A/N: Hello everyone, and sorry again for not updating for a while... But here it is at last, chapter six. I hope you like it! Oh, and thanks so much to everyone who reviewed my last chapter! It helps, it really does!
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
The Great Hall was crowded. As Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione made their way inside, they noticed that Dumbledore was already standing, urging the students to take their seats quickly. Draco gave Harry a pained look, sighed heavily, and made his way over to the Slytherin table, sitting down at the end. Harry noticed that several of the Slytherins had put their heads together as Draco approached, and were now whispering animatedly, some pointing quite openly and sending him nasty looks.
As Harry didn't think his staring was going to make Draco's situation any better, he focused his gaze instead on the headmaster, who was still standing and was watching the last students take their seats. As Harry looked at him their eyes met, and Dumbledore gave him a small nod before raising his hands, signalling that he wanted silence.
Ron and Hermione had sat down on either side of Harry, and had also fixed their gazes on the headmaster, Hermione wearing an expression of genuine interest as always, and Ron wearing an expression that told Harry quite plainly that he hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast.
Ron turned towards Harry and opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment the Great Hall fell silent, and he turned back to face the headmaster, who was smiling warmly at his students.
"Welcome," he said, holding his arms out as if he wanted to embrace them all. "I know you are all hungry and tired, but I am going to ask for your attention all the same, before the new students are sorted."
Dumbledore paused for a moment, and there was an outbreak of murmuring in the hall. It was not customary for the headmaster to speak to them like this; he usually gave any announcements after the first-years had been sorted and they had all eaten dinner.
Ron turned to Harry with a questioning look. Harry shrugged, letting his gaze fall briefly on his best friend before turning his eyes back to Dumbledore, who looked as though he was contemplating exactly how he was going to say what he wanted to say.
A few moments went by while Dumbledore stood there, surveying them all, then, looking as though he had finally come to a decision, the headmaster walked around the teachers' table, and came to a halt directly in front of the students, with his back to the other professors.
As he did this, the hall fell silent again. Almost everyone was wearing an expression of mild concern, counting out some of the younger students, who looked nothing short of terrified, and many of the Slytherins, who looked like they could care less.
As Harry looked at Dumbledore, he noticed that the robes the headmaster was wearing tonight were not of the usual colourful kind he would usually don, but were instead a very dark blue. This alone was enough to tell Harry that this year was going to be a very different one. The start-of-term feast was always something Harry had associated with excitement and happiness –a pleasant break from everyday life before school started, but now all he could feel was an air of tension, curiosity, and fear. What did this mean for the rest of the year?
Harry's musings were cut short however, as the headmaster started to speak.
"As most of you already know," he started, putting a hand to his long, white beard. "-We are facing some very hard times. Before the new students enter this hall I must ask you all to think about the year ahead. Think, for a moment, about what you wish to do. At a time such as this, it is essential that you stand together, and though the young ones being sorted today will be split up into different houses, I am asking you to take care of them all, no matter if they end up in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. We are only as strong as we are united, and I hope you can show the new students that friendship is not limited to people of your own house. I trust you to set a good example. Thank you."
There was complete silence as Dumbledore walked back around the teachers' table and sat down. It seemed as if no one knew quite what to say. The teachers were looking at him as well, all wearing expressions that told the students quite plainly that this speech had come as a complete surprise to them also.
After a minute or so of confused silence, Dumbledore waved his wand, and the door behind which the first-years were waiting opened slowly, revealing Professor McGonagall and the frightened eleven-year-olds.
McGonagall led them all in and lined them up, as was customary. Then she fetched the little three-legged stool and placed upon it a very old and tattered piece of cloth, namely, the Sorting Hat.
As she walked off to the side, where she would always stand and watch, the new students all looked at the hat, their expressions turning from fear to curiosity. Harry remembered how, when he was to be sorted, he had been scared half to death because he had thought he was going to be made to do magic. He smiled slightly to himself as he also recalled how Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George had told their younger brother that he would have to wrestle a troll to get in. It was strange to Harry to think that five years had passed since then, and yet it seemed even more strange that it had only been five years; he felt so much older now; he had had to go through so much since he was introduced to the magical world. Yet he wouldn't give it up for anything, that he was sure of. This was where he belonged.
So why did he feel so out of place? Why was he the one who had to live as a weapon? Why, of all people, was he chosen?
Harry was just about to become utterly lost in these thoughts when the rip near the brim of the Sorting Hat opened as a mouth and started its song, bringing Harry back to earth as he focused his attention on the old head garment.
Good evening one and welcome all,
The time has come again
To reunite with happiness
As summer nears its end
You gather here expectantly
And listen to my song
But what I have to say this year
Is only for the strong
But first, the houses, strong and true,
Stand as when they were young
And it has been my task for years
To sort you into one
Fair Ravenclaw, she knew it all
She chose those who were smart
And founder Godric Gryffindor
Took just the brave of heart
The cunning, quick, and clever ones
Were picked by Slytherin
While Hufflepuff, the kind and sweet
Let all the others in
And so it was the houses four
Were shaped by founders' calls
And they shall be your families
While in the castle's walls
But now I feel that I must warn you
Of what is to come
For hard times we are facing now
And we must stand as one
Though I must, here, tear you apart,
You go your different ways,
I urge you now to realise
The fault that is my place
I think it wrong in times like these
To split you all apart
For in lack of trust and faith in friends
Togetherness is hard
So therefore I must tell you now
That Hogwarts is a whole,
That colours do not matter,
What to look at is the soul
So worry not about your house,
Your colour, or your place,
For friendship is not limited
By house or rank or race
As one must we now
Fight the growing evil that's at hand
Alone we are defenceless,
But together we can stand
With this I bid you all good night
And hope that you will see
No matter where these children go,
Together you are free
Applause broke out as the Sorting Hat finished its song, but, just as last year, it was subdued. The hat had, again, given them a warning, and many of the students were now turned towards one another, whispering urgently.
Ron turned to Harry again, looking concerned.
"Getting darker and darker every year, isn't it..?" he said in a hushed voice.
"Yeah," Harry mumbled, thinking the same thing.
"What do you reckon it means?" Ron asked quietly, leaning closer to Harry.
Hermione, who had not said a word up until now, turned around to face Ron and gave him a look of incredulity.
"Honestly Ron!" she said exasperatedly. "The Sorting Hat couldn't have made it much more obvious…"
When Ron merely raised his eyebrows, she let out a sigh of frustration and started to explain it to him.
"It's just about friendship Ron, friendship between the houses. Alone we are defenceless, but together we can stand –the hat is saying that if we try to seclude ourselves, saying that different houses can't get along, we will fail the battle against V-Voldemort, but if we manage to see that we are all part of a whole, we have a much greater chance of prevailing. Furthermore…"
Harry had a feeling that this speech could have gone on for ages, and he was just about to zone out again, but Hermione was cut short as Professor McGonagall started calling up names, and their attention was, once more, drawn to the front of the hall.
"Adkins, Erik!"
A particularly tiny boy with completely white hair stepped out of the line, trembling visibly as he walked very slowly towards the stool on which the Sorting Hat was placed. Upon reaching his destination, he merely stood quite still for a few moments, watching the hat, before looking over to McGonagall, wearing an expression of mingled fear and curiosity, though clearly, the fear was the winning part, as he did not make a move to put the Sorting Hat on his head.
Professor McGonagall, looking extremely frustrated, came up to him and removed the hat from the stool, motioning for him to sit down. As he finally did so, she placed the hat on his head and walked over to the side of the room, where she had been standing prior to Mr. Adkins' reluctance at being sorted.
Now the little white-haired boy sat with the Sorting Hat not only covering his entire head, but also his shoulders, as it tried to make its decision.
After several minutes, the Sorting Hat finally called "GRYFFINDOR!" and the boy, ripping the hat rather violently off his head and placing it forcefully back on the stool, ran over to their table, where he was greeted with applause and a couple of reassuring pats on the back.
"Aww, he is so cute!" said a voice a little further down the table, and both Harry and Ron turned to see Parvati and Lavender looking fondly at the newcomer.
"He reminds me a bit of my little brother," said Lavender, smiling in a very motherly fashion and giving the little boy a wave.
Ron frowned, then turned to Harry, giving him a puzzled look.
"I wasn't aware that she had a little brother," he said, turning back to look at Lavender.
"He's seven," said Hermione quite unexpectedly, causing Ron to jump slightly in his seat and turn very abruptly towards Hermione.
"Blimey!" he said breathlessly. "It's bloody frustrating how one thinks you're not listening and then it turns out you are…"
Harry couldn't help but grin as Hermione sent Ron a pitying look and turned back to the sorting. Ron let out a frustrated sigh as he put his head on the table and uttered one word:
"Hungry…"
Luckily for Ron, the rest of the sorting ceremony didn't take very long, and soon the last student (Zohler, Wendy -"RAVENCLAW!") had been welcomed to her table, sitting down just as Dumbledore stood up.
"I can see that you are all hungry," he said, smiling.
Harry noticed that Ron was nodding rather vigorously on his right.
"So I shall not delay your meal any further," the headmaster continued. "Bon apetit!"
As he said this, dozens of golden platters appeared on the table, and Ron let out a moan of longing as he threw himself over the nearest one and transferred what Harry could have sworn was half of its contents onto his own plate. Harry saw Hermione throw Ron a disgusted look before filling her own plate, and Harry was just about to pull a platter of pork chops to him when a feeling in the pit of his stomach made him stop what he was doing abruptly and look around.
Harry knew that feeling; it was the feeling he got whenever he was being watched. And as he turned slightly to his left he noticed what, or rather, who, was causing it.
Sitting at the Ravenclaw table was a girl with curly reddish-blonde hair whom Harry recognised as Marietta, Cho's friend, who had given the DA away last year; her eyes were fixed on him, staring intently. He furrowed his eyebrows, giving her what he thought was a questioning look, but she took no notice; she simply kept staring at him as if he were the only person in the room.
Just as he was about to turn back to his table and ask Ron and Hermione if they knew anything, he saw something that almost made his heart stop; the girl's eyes, eyes that had been blue just moments before, were changing. The blue colour was fading, and it was being replaced by –no, it couldn't be, not here. Harry looked around, his heart pounding in his chest, but no one else was paying the girl the slightest bit of attention. He looked up at Dumbledore, but the man seemed completely undisturbed and unaware of what Harry was now seeing. For Marietta's eyes had changed; where there had once been blue, lively eyes, there were now slits, slits red as blood.
Harry's heart jumped up into his throat as he turned around and quickly tugged at Ron's robes, forcing him to turn around and look at her, but just as he had done this, her face was once again back to normal, and she was now looking at them both with a confused expression. As Harry stared blankly at her, she turned to the girl on her right, who, Harry hadn't noticed until this point, was Cho Chang, and they both turned around to look at him, Cho looking as if she might cry again.
Harry turned back around with an utterly bewildered feeling. Ron was giving him a worried look, every now and then glancing back at Marietta and Cho.
"Something wrong, mate?" he said after a few moments, giving Harry a nervous pat on the back.
Harry shook his head slowly, his breathing rather ragged.
"I thought-" he started, then decided to leave it. He was probably just tired. And discussing what he had just seen in front of the entire Gryffindor table probably wouldn't be the smartest thing to do anyway.
"Is it Cho, mate?" Ron said quietly, giving Harry what he obviously thought was an understanding look.
"No, it's not –I could care less about Cho," Harry replied, the answer coming out in a much more bitter tone than he had planned.
Harry suddenly felt stupid. Now Ron was going to think that he had gone back to fancying her or something, and he certainly hadn't. After everything that happened last year, he had had enough of Cho to last him a lifetime.
"It was nothing," he said decidedly, giving Ron a weak smile. "I'm just tired, is all. I thought I saw something, but I must have been imagining it."
Ron gave him a suspicious look, but said no more. Harry was glad that his best friend had decided to let the subject lie. He felt slightly foolish for letting himself become so alarmed, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. Why had he seen something like that if it didn't serve some purpose? Something was definitely wrong. He decided to talk to Ron and Hermione about it as soon as dinner was over and they were back in the Gryffindor common room.
At present, Harry remembered that he still hadn't had anything to eat, and his stomach was now complaining rather loudly about this lack of food. Harry therefore pulled the platter of pork chops to him again, and transferred some onto his plate before starting to eat.
The rest of the meal went by without any extraordinary happenings; dinner was followed by a marvellous selection of desserts, and after having several helpings of both, both Harry and everyone else was very full and very tired.
As everyone was finishing up, Harry looked up at the enchanted ceiling and noticed that it was a very clear night. The stars were all shimmering in the distance, adding extra enchantment to the already magical atmosphere of the hall. He could see several of the constellations; he amused himself for a moment with pointing out Orion's Belt, the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, and many others. He had never realised that it was possible to do this from inside the castle before, and it definitely fascinated him more than it should, so he turned his face back to earth and found that Dumbledore had stood up yet again, no doubt to give the start-of-term announcements and send them all off to bed.
"Now that you have all had something to eat, I would like to ask for your attention for a few moments before you head off to bed," the headmaster said, smiling.
Harry sighed. Going to bed did sound very inviting about now. It had been a long day, and he also wanted to get to the common room so he could properly discuss, with Ron and Hermione, what he had seen during the meal.
As he listened to the announcements Dumbledore was giving, he leaned back in his chair and relaxed; this was nothing he hadn't heard before.
Suddenly he sat bolt upright. Pain seared through his scar such as he had not felt in several months. Gritting his teeth, he put a hand to his forehead, pressing it against the scar as he breathed heavily. It felt like his whole head was on fire.
"What's wrong, Harry?" came Hermione's worried voice from his left, as the pain got worse and worse.
Harry merely shook his head; he was sure that if he opened his mouth he would start screaming, and he really didn't want that kind of attention on his first day back.
"Is it your scar?" came Ron's voice from his right, sounding equally worried. "Is it him, Harry?"
Harry nodded, and, with great effort, managed to croak,
"He's killing someone."
Just as he had said it, a great wave of anger coursed through him, anger he was quite certain that he wasn't feeling, and the pain intensified, causing him to let out a stifled cry as it started spreading to his entire body.
The pain seemed to last for an eternity, but finally, it receded, and as it did, Harry noticed that Dumbledore had stopped talking and was now standing right next to him, supporting his back, and that every eye in the hall was on him.
"What happened Harry?" Dumbledore said quietly.
He kept his hands on Harry's back, and Harry was glad of it, for he was afraid he might just keel over and faint if Dumbledore let go. He felt as if he had just been burned alive, and his whole body was aching. His breath was coming out in short gasps, as if he had just run three miles, and on top of all this, he felt embarrassed and ashamed. People were gawking at him as if he were some sort of circus attraction.
Trying his best to ignore this, and gathering all of his remaining strength, he steadied himself with his hands and turned around to face the headmaster, who was looking at him with a very concerned expression.
"S-scar," Harry stuttered, trying to keep himself from shaking too much. "V-V-Voldemort. He was –someone was… I think he killed someone. He was really angry."
Dumbledore nodded.
"Can you walk, Harry?" he asked softly.
"Wha- yes, I think so but-"
Harry didn't understand. He had told Dumbledore that Voldemort had just killed someone. Surely that was more important than his ability to walk at the moment? He was going to point this out to the headmaster, but found that he was, presently, shaking too violently to speak so he settled on giving him a confused look instead.
"I think you should come with me, Harry," was the only thing Dumbledore said to this.
Harry didn't know what else to do or say, so he simply nodded, hoping that some explanation would come.
Hermione and Ron were both looking at him with very frightened expressions as Dumbledore helped him get to his feet, and they looked as if they had every intention of following them, but the headmaster held up a hand to stop them.
"I will be taking him to the Hospital Wing," he said calmly. "He will be out by tomorrow, don't worry, but I am going to have to ask you to wait until then to see him."
Upon seeing Ron and Hermione's frustrated expressions, he added,
"You do also have your prefect duties."
At this, Hermione straightened up instantly and gave the headmaster a curt nod, while Ron, rolling his eyes, nodded as well.
As Dumbledore led Harry out of the hall, he could clearly see Hermione walking around the table, ordering people to sit down and giving people directions, Ron wandering along behind her.
Some ten minutes later, Harry and Dumbledore entered the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore led Harry over to a bed, where a pair of pyjamas were laid out for him, and the headmaster left him to change while he went to fetch Madam Pomfrey.
A few minutes later, he returned with the medi-witch, who was carrying a small vial of what was unmistakably a Dreamless Sleep potion.
Dumbledore walked up to the side of Harry's bed and gave him a worried look.
"I want you to drink this before you go to sleep, Harry," he said gently.
Harry nodded, but he was still confused. Why wasn't Dumbledore doing anything? Why wasn't he alerting the Order? Why was he so calm?
As though the headmaster had read Harry's mind, he said,
"I have already alerted the Order members, and I have reason to believe that Voldemort was only dealing with his own tonight. But we will talk more in the morning. It is very important that you drink this entire potion, Harry. For even more important than your getting a good night's sleep is the fact that Voldemort can not access your dreams if you do not have any."
Dumbledore gave him a reassuring smile as Madame Pomfrey handed him the potion. Taking it, Harry thought that what the headmaster had said did indeed seem logical. And sleep did sound very nice at the moment.
As Harry slowly drank the potion, another thought came to his mind. How had Dumbledore managed to alert the Order members? Hadn't he been with Harry ever since his scar had started hurting?
Again, it was as if the headmaster had read Harry's mind.
"I have ways of contacting the Order that do not require me to abandon what I am doing, Harry. But now you must sleep."
Nodding, Harry lay his head down on his pillow, and before he knew it, the world had faded into darkness and he thought no more.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope it was to your liking. Please keep those reviews coming, guys. It really keeps me going. Feel free to ask questions in your reviews. Answers and general comments can be found in my profile, so check that out if you have reviewed. I will try to update my profile tomorrow. Thanks again!