So we're talking forever

You almost feel better

But better's no excuse for tonight

You see, it's never been enough to just leave or give up

But it's never good enough to feel right

Now I'm lying on the table with everything you said

Well I'll catch up eventually

We'll get caught up and honestly

The way that my decisions were impossible to hold

They were never yours

This Photograph is Proof (I Know You Know)—Taking Back Sunday

Chapter 6 Heading Home

They returned to the Burrow in low spirits. Bill, however, greeted them in the living room, smiling. It became evident immediately why as Fred and George came tramping down the stairs.

Ginny squealed and ran to hug them. The twins greeted each in turn but they stopped when they got to Harry. "You'd better take care of our room," Fred said.

"Yeah, and if you find any tricks or experiments lying around send them our way," said George with a smile.

"Will do," Harry said, grinning back.

"So, are you ready for seventh year? Planning any pranks to keep the Head Boy and Girl busy?"

"Well, seeing as I'm Head Boy and Hermione's Head Girl, I'm thinking no," he said with a chuckle.

The twins glanced at each other. "As long as you're not like Percy…" Fred said, stopping abruptly at the mention of his brother's name.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "It must be hard."

"Yeah, well, it's not like he was that great to us anyway," George commented, looking around to make sure no ones was listening in. "I just wish we could have been closer, you know," he continued, apparently satisfied that they weren't being overheard. Fred nodded his agreement.

"But, we really must be going," George said briskly. "Everyone, it was great to see you again. Come visit us sometime," and they were gone.


Harry got out of bed the next morning at six. He did not want to be pushed for time this year. He double and triple checked to make sure everything was packed and finally traipsed downstairs with his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

He was going back; returning to the one place where everything would always be all right, no matter what. It was one of the only places where he felt that he'd always belonged.

He grabbed a piece of toast from the table and sat chatting merrily with everyone, counting down the hours till they left.

Around nine, everyone piled into Bill's new car and headed to King's Cross Station. Passing through the barrier between platforms nine and ten seemed so easy now, compared to how lost he'd felt his first year at Hogwarts.

Ten minutes later, the group was saying their good-byes, knowing very well that it might be the last time they saw Bill, who was leaving for business with the Order the next night. What exactly this business was, he wouldn't say.

"Thank you for everything," Harry said, extending his hand to Bill. Bill, however, did not settle for a handshake. He drew Harry into a tight hug, embracing him like his own brother, also sensing that he might never see his family again. "Take care of yourself," Bill whispered. "And Ron and Ginny, too."

The group boarded the train, Ginny sobbing openly. Harry put an arm around her to comfort her and waved back at Bill who smiled. "Thanks, Harry!" he called back to him.

"You're welcome," Harry said to himself.

Hermione turned to her friends. "Harry and I have to go to the very front. Why don't you all go to the prefect's compartment and wait for us."

Hermione and Harry headed for the front, chatting about their summers. Harry left out most of the details of his holiday, but Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to have had a great summer. She and her parents had visited every country in Europe, as planned. "But, it's good to be back," she finished as she slid the door open to the compartment they'd be meeting in.

Their talk was interrupted by a crack like a whip as Dobby the house-elf appeared before them. "Excuse me, Mr. Harry Potter, but Dumbledore is sending Dobby to give these to you," he said after greeting Harry.

Harry looked down at the paper. They were his Head Boy instructions. "Why doesn't someone come talk to us? I thought we'd be meeting someone."

Dobby answered back tentatively, "Someone was planning to come but something at school came up. I'm sorry, but Dobby must return," and with a low bow he was gone.

Harry glanced back down at the parchment in his hand. "Our own bathrooms?" he asked, staring at the letter. He smiled.

Once they'd assigned the prefects their jobs, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny sat talking in the prefect's compartment. Hermione soon became bored with their endless babble and pulled out a copy of The Quibbler.

"Herm," Ron said, using her nickname. She never let anyone but him get away with that. "I thought you didn't believe the stories in there. Why are you reading it?"

She shrugged and continued reading. "They don't print so much rubbish anymore."

Harry stared at the cover, looking over the headlines. One in particular caught his eye. "New Hope for Werewolves," it read. "Can I see that, Hermione?" Harry asked, reaching for the magazine. Harry flipped to the article and began to read.

The cure is finally here for those among us know as werewolves. Feared and resented by most of the magical community, these men and women have been unable to find employment anywhere. Now, a new injection is changing all that.

The shot is administered once a month, before the full moon. The human will then be unable to transform into the wolf and, therefore, pose no threat. Only trained Healers may prescribe or administer the injection.

Harry grinned and passed to article to Ron and Hermione. "I'll bet Lupin's thrilled."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" spat Ginny.

Harry's head snapped up. Sure enough, Draco Malfoy was standing over them. Malfoy ignored her. "Out in the hall, Potter."

"Why?" he asked indignantly.

"Just go!"

Harry stood and caught Ron's eye, whose brows were raised. Ron nodded, then waited a beat and went to the door, where he listened in on the conversation, ready to help his friend if he should need it.

"What's all this about, Malfoy?" Harry asked curtly.

"You need to get Hermione's parents out of their village tonight."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's going to be an attack tonight. You need to warn them."

"Why should I believe you?" Harry asked, turning to head back into the compartment.

Suddenly, he was wheeled around and shoved against the wall of the corridor. Malfoy grabbed the collar of Harry's robes in his fists and pushed his face closer. "Because I'm telling the truth!" he hissed through gritted teeth as his gray eyes flared with anger. "The Dark Lord is going to attack tonight! You can either believe me or let your best friends parents die."

Harry wrenched away from Malfoy. "You have never given me a single bloody reason to trust you. Why should I start now?"

"Damn it, Potter, I'm trying to help you!"

Harry stared back, confused. "Why? You, who have always made my life miserable, are suddenly trying to 'help' me, and you want me to believe you. What do you take me for?"

"You don't get it do you," he muttered, running his fingers through his silver blond hair. He turned on his heel and started to walk away. Then he stopped as if he'd just thought of something and spun back around. "Fine. But this will all be on your head," he said, poking Harry hard in the chest with his finger. Then he turned and walked away.

Ron came out of the compartment. "What was that?" he asked, staring at Malfoy's retreating back.

Harry shrugged. "Do you think he's telling the truth?"

Ron shook his head. "His dad's a Death Eater. Besides, the slimy git's never told the truth before. It's probably a trap."

"Maybe I should tell Hermione."

"No, I wouldn't. It would just worry her."

"For some reason though, I don't think he would make that up. I'll tell her, and she can take it how she wants to," he said as they walked back inside.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Malfoy had an interesting message for you. He told me you need to get your parents out of their village because Voldemort's going to attack it tonight," Harry said, sitting across from Hermione.

Hermione cocked her head. "Do you think he's telling the truth?"

Harry shrugged.


"I'm starving. When are the first years coming?" Ron was staring longingly at his empty golden plate. "It seems like they take longer every year."

"No, you're just hungrier," said Hermione absentmindedly, scanning the teacher's table. Ron mocked her behind her back.

Harry laughed and looked at the head table. "Ugh, Snape's still here. Hmmm… who's the Defense Against the… Oh my gosh! Tell me that isn't who I think it is," Harry said slapping Ron's arm hard to get his attention.

"That's…That's Lupin!" Ron cried, sitting straighter in his chair to get a better look.

"He's back?" Ginny asked.

"He's back!" Hermione exclaimed, bringing her hands to her mouth.

"Do you think he's really staying?" Harry asked. However, no one answered because the new first years began filing in at that moment. Most, Harry noticed, had varying expressions of terror etched across their faces.

All eyes turned to Professor McGonagall who brought a decrepit old hat to the front of the room and set it down on a wobbly looking three-legged stool. A rip near the brim opened and the hat began to sing.

I combined the songs from first and fifth years to make this song cuz I have no poetic ability at all. Just pretend that no one's ever heard this before.

Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep you bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

In times of old when I was new

And Hogwarts barely started,

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted:

United by a common goal,

They had the selfsame yearning

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

"Together we will build and teach!"

The four good friends decided

And never did they dream that they

Might someday be divided.

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there and so can tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, "We'll teach those

Whose ancestry is purest."

Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose

Intelligence is surest."

Said Gryffindor," We'll teach all those

With brave deeds in their name."

Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,

And treat them just the same."

So Hogwarts worked in harmony

For several happy years,

But then discord crept among us

Feeding on our faults and rears.

And for a while it seemed the school

Must meet an early end,

What with the fighting

And the clash of friend of friend.

And at last there came a morning

When old Slytherin departed

And though the fighting then died down

He left us quite downhearted.

And never since the founders four

Were whittled down to three

Have the Houses been united

As they once were meant to be.

And now the Sorting Hat is here

And you all know the score:

I sort you into Houses

Because that is what I'm for,

But this year I'll go further

Listen closely to my song:

Though condemned I am to split you

Still I wonder that its wrong.

Oh, know the perils, read the signs,

The warning history shows,

For our Hogwarts is in danger

From external deadly foes

And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within

I have told you, I have warned you…

Let the sorting now begin.

Harry glanced uneasily at his friends. The Sorting Hat had been warning Hogwarts since his fifth year but somehow this year's song seemed to worry him more than usual. He had a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't quite explain. Something bigger than ever would happen this year. Harry mentally shook himself and clapped along with the rest of the school.

As the applause died down, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and called forward the first student (Applebee, Cynthia) to try on the Sorting Hat. The Great Hall waited with bated breath as a frightened girl with dark brown hair crept forward. The hat had barely touched her head before it called out "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry scanned through the line of first years. Mark Evans waved to him, grinning broadly. Then he was called to the stool, where he sat with a hopeful expression on his face. Harry crossed his fingers under the table. The hat thought a moment. It opened the its mouth to give an answer, but it snapped shut again. Three times it did this. Finally, the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Yes!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet to welcome Mark to the table.

"I take it you know him," Ron said.

"This is Mark. He lives a few blocks away from me."

Harry's friends greeted him in turn.

The Sorting Ceremony crept slowly on and still no one else had been sorted into Gryffindor. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had the usual amount of new students and Slytherin had nearly twice as many as last year. Harry turned to ask if anyone else had noticed this too, but stopped as a horrible pain shot through his scar and his stomach gave and excited lurch.

Harry clapped a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "I will not get sick," he willed himself, remembering the last time his scar had hurt. Taking a deep, calming breath, he opened his eyes and glanced back at the Sorting Hat as if nothing had happened.

A small, blond haired boy sat nervously on the stool. His eyes were shut tight and he seemed to be whispering something to the hat. Harry looked closer and saw the boy's mouth form the word "Gryffindor" again and again. After a few more minutes of silence, the hat finally called out its answer.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Confused, Harry watched the boy slouch over the Slytherin table. "I don't get it," said Harry to Ron. "He wanted in Gryffindor."

Ron shrugged. "Well, I mean who wouldn't want in Gryffindor? We've got the best Quidditch team, the best reputation. Poor bloke got put in Slytherin though."

By the end of the ceremony, only three first years had been sorted into Gryffindor.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked, staring at the over crowded Slytherin table. Harry shrugged. At least he wasn't crazy. There were more students in Slytherin this year. His thoughts, however, were interrupted as the headmaster stood. A hush quickly fell over the Great Hall as Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. All eyes turned his way as he held up a hand unnecessarily to quiet the students.

"I'm sure you are all just a tad bit hungry, so I'll save the speech making for later," he said, a twinkle visible in his blue eyes. "For now, tuck in!"

"Best thing anyone's said all day," said Ron, picking up his knife and fork as plates upon plates filled with meats, puddings, and other assorted food items appeared all along the tables. Harry loaded his plate with every intention of eating, but as he ate in silence, worry began to creep into the back of his mind, and he soon lost his appetite.

Somehow this years Sorting Ceremony worried him. The addition of so many new Slytherins had sent his mind reeling. The warning of Malfoy, however farfetched it seemed, rattled his nerves also. He finally decided some serious talking with his friends and other members of the Order was needed.

"Why aren't you eating?" Ginny whispered, startling Harry out of his thoughts.

Harry shrugged. "Not hungry I guess."

He waited impatiently for the feast's end. The plates emptied as the food appeared to melt away and Dumbledore stood again. He cleared his throat and the students all turned to face him, some with dreamy expressions on their faces, due no doubt to the large quantity of food they had just consumed.

"Welcome! It's great to have you all here. I hope everyone had a pleasant summer (Harry snorted) but it's time to get back to business. I would like to introduce, or reintroduce to some of you, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin."

The applause within the Great Hall was tumultuous, particularly at the Gryffindor table. Only the Slytherins defiantly didn't clap. Lupin wasn't very popular amongst them. The new professor humbly stood and waved to familiar faces in the crowd before sitting down.

Dumbledore continued when the applause finally died down. "Mr. Filch would also like to remind you all that magic is off limits in the corridors between classes. The full list of restrictions is still posted in his office if anyone would like to view them." A knowing smile crept across his face and his eyes twinkled mischievously. Harry knew exactly what the man was thinking. It was highly unlikely that any student would dare venture into the caretaker's office. Most students hated Filch and lived to torment him anyway.

"Also, first years, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds. And if anyone is interested in trying out for the Quidditch team, make sure to talk to your team captain. And now, I'm sure you're all very tired. Prefects, please lead the way back to the Common Rooms. I shall see you all in the morning."

Harry stood and made a beeline for the Head Table. He wanted to talk to Lupin more than anything. Someone from the outside magical world was within the very walls of Hogwarts. He needed to know what had happened over the summer.