Disclaimer: As much as I wish it was, it is not mine. But you know this. So why are you reading it again?
A/N: Sorry for the delay. Two weeks of camp and a writer's block didn't help. & Thank you to my beautiful betas: Amanda (The former Lady Cyllan), Nicole (who remains anonymous), and Julia (whose pen name I am unaware of)! Any grammar mistakes, rambling, awful wording, and spelling errors are completely my fault.
Chapter Four: Announcements
Hermione sidestepped out of the flow of students eager to get to the Great Hall, and looked around for Professor McGonagall. She spotted the transfiguration teacher as she made her way across the river of students, shouting at them as she went.
"Fanged Frisbees are not allowed, Mister Corner! Excuse me, Colin. Nice to see you, Eleanor. No more fighting, or I'll give you a detention, Mister Crabbe. Mister Weasley, are you coming or not?"
Hermione noted that the teacher was less formal with students she knew well and those who actually paid attention in her class. She could hear the stress in her voice before she could see it in her face. The teacher was tight-lipped, tired, and frustrated. Her usually tightly bound hair was loosened, and her hat crooked. She strode out of the flow, and immediately straightened her hat and took a deep breath, letting the frustration flow out of her system. The lines on her face decreased, but Hermione could still see the signs of stress written all over.
"Something wrong, professor?" She asked, hoping to hear what had, or was going to, happen.
McGonagall looked surprised at the adeptness of her student, but quickly recovered.
"No, no, nothing for you to be worrying about, dear. Just a few changes in the school is all…"
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off as Ron approached.
"There you are, Mister Weasley," McGonagall said quickly, "Let's get going, you two. The first years will be arriving soon, and we can't leave Hagrid to direct them here by himself. They'll no doubt get lost… one always does, it seems…" the professor seemed to mutter that last part to herself as they set off down the corridor, leaving each to his or her own thoughts.
They made their way to where the boats were already docked, and Hermione took great pride in helping the first years as they gazed in awe at the magnificent castle before them. Hermione took a moment to herself to reminisce about her first year, but quickly put her thoughts aside to continue the task set before her.
Ron, on the other hand, would have much rather been inside the castle sitting next to Harry, and didn't notice as a pure-blooded first year decided to secure his destiny as a Slytherin by inserting a foul-smelling dung bomb into Ron's pocket, ticking to set off at any moment. And for good measure, he but a fake wand right beside it.
Harry sat in the Great Hall with Ginny and Neville while they waited for Ron and Hermione to get done with their head-duties. People were still filing in, but most were already seated at the various tables, eagerly awaiting the sorting, announcements, and, finally, the feast.
The rumbling stomachs are proof of that, Harry thought to himself.
"When are the first years going to get here?" Neville asked, trying to peer over peoples' heads. "I'm starving…"
Harry smiled at the comment in accordance to his previous thoughts. "I'm sure they'll be here soon, Neville."
"Don't you guys remember you first sorting?" Ginny asked wistfully, playing with a lock of her curly hair. It was really getting long now, Harry noticed. She'd grown her bangs out too; they now rested gracefully on her cheeks when she smiled. With layers all the way down, her hair looped in gentle twists much more than it had done before.
Harry was so entranced with the way the light from the flickering candles danced in Ginny's delicate, cinnamon-colored hair, and his longing to touch and play with it, that he didn't notice the blush that crept across Ginny's cheeks as she noticed his gaze, and was shaken rather cruelly from his unrealistic reverie as his two best friends sat down at the table, Ron across from him and Hermione next to him.
"Hey, Harry," Hermione said, her face slightly flushed from the night air. "Looks like a nice bunch this year."
"Nice bunch my a-," Ron noticed the look on Hermione's face and quickly changed his wording, "-uh, my sneak-o-scope… yeah…"
"What'd they do, mate?" Harry said, suppressing laughter.
"Well," Ron answered, speaking a bit more loudly as to gain a larger audience before launching into a wild, rather unrealistic version of went on after a first year had implanted the dung bomb carefully into the head boy's robes. Ron's arms flailed as he retold the story, about how the corridor had suddenly smelled positively dreadful, and how McGonagall was beside him when they figured out where it was coming from, and the only reason he didn't have detention for three weeks was because the culprit had been boasting quite loudly about his antics a corridor later.
But, despite his good storytelling, Ron never got any feedback on his story. As soon as he'd finished the far-fetched tale, the doors had creaked open (for dramatic purposes), and the first years followed their transfiguration teacher in a single file line to the front of the hall, all looking mystified and nervous about what was about to ensue.
McGonagall picked up a tattered hat from seemingly nowhere, and placed it on a stool in front of the room. The entire room fell silent as the hat cleared its throat. Well, the entire room except for the first-years, who all gaped at first, but quickly closed their mouths, and pretended they knew this was coming all along.
The Sorting Hat launched into its song, the whole room as its audience. Almost. Hermione Granger was the only one not giving the hat her full-fledged attention. Actually, she wasn't giving it any attention at all. Being the smart witch she was, over the years she had figured out that, in order to gain the most knowledge about the coming year, she oughtn't listen to the hat upon its stool- but at the teachers sitting at their table. They all ended up letting their guard down when they thought everyone else was watching- and listening- to the Sorting Hat. And apparently the new Head Girl was the only one who'd noticed. She looked up and down the table- and was unnerved at what she saw. All of the teachers had a certain look of apprehensiveness, sitting uneasily in their seats.
Professor Sprout looked downright nervous, fiddling with her nails and furrowing her brow. Professor Snape had a newfound look of loathing upon his face- as if disagreeing completely with the world and its countless antics. Professor McGonagall seemed even more stressed- although the dung bomb incident had done nothing to calm her nerves- but mixed in was a dab of nervousness. McGonagall was never nervous… she was always so sure of what was going on… this put Hermione on edge. But what really made her uneasy was the familiar glint in her headmaster's eyes… he was planning something. And she wasn't so sure it would be good.
Before she could finish her thoughts, however, she was snapped back into reality as the Sorting Hat immersed itself in its final verse with authority and much louder tone, as if it knew she hadn't been listening.
"So now I separate another year
But everything comes with a price
We must now come together
Or I fear we shall scatter like mice."
"Eh, not his best," Ron said, criticizing.
"Why's it warning us again? Haven't we already heard all this stuff?" Ginny asked, putting her head in her hands and rubbing her eyes.
"Probably because we haven't 'come together' yet," Hermione answered constructively.
Ginny sighed to herself, "You know, it was a rhetorical question…"
"Though it's a good idea," Harry thought aloud. "I mean, I could always use a few more allies…"
"Slytherins though? Oh, yes, they'd make jolly good allies," commented Ron, his words dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed.
"He's right, you know," Neville leaned into the conversation. "I don't think a Slytherin has ever done anything considerate for anyone in another house, let alone a Gryffindor."
"But what about the other houses? Is there a reason that we shouldn't be friends with the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs?" Hermione questioned them, and when they squirmed in their seats, she knew the answer. "I mean, just because the Slytherins don't seem to believe in inter-house unity, doesn't mean we shouldn't either. We should set an example."
Silence met her words for a moment before Ron spoke up. "Hermione, you know that isn't going to happen any time soon."
With a sigh, Hermione resigned and started paying attention to the Sorting that was ending.
"Wolfe, Mitchell," McGonagall called out.
"That's the one!" Ron stage-whispered so his friends could hear him. "That's the one that put the dung-bomb into my pocket!"
The boy smirked, although he had a long way to go before he could rival Draco's signature smirk, and sat down. He'd barely put the had on his head before it shouted "Slytherin!" and the far table erupted, embracing it's new member as Ron glared at the kid. Hermione wouldn't be surprised if daggers appeared in his line of sight, heading straight towards the boy.
"Zabini, Gwendolyn." The last student left was a small, blonde-haired girl with an oversized cloak. She started walking up to the hat, and immediately stumbled, gaining small chuckles from the audience. With all eyes on her, it was amazing that she didn't turn red. All she did was let out a small giggle and watch her footing as she made her way over to the stool, without stumbling, a smile on her face the entire time.
Draco watched the scene with a smirk on his face, and punched Blaise lightly in the shoulder when his sister stumbled. When she didn't turn the color of Weasley's hair, but instead smiled to the world, he knew that with her pride, and her brother's footsteps to lead the way, she ought to be put into Slytherin without hesitation. Which is why, moments later, a look of confusion crossed his face when the Sorting Hat was still thinking. Of course, Draco's face was nothing compared to poor Blaise's when the sorting hat shouted out "Gryffindor!" and the lion's table erupted with cheers and smirks. Blaise watched, jaw on the floor, as his sister was patted on the back, and welcomed graciously into the arms of his enemies.
"That's too bad, Blaise," Pansy said with a shrug. "Maybe she wasn't so much like you, after all."
"Guess not," was all Blaise managed to get out, still rather stunned by the hat's defiant declaration, before the headmaster stood, ready for his yearly welcoming.
"Ahem." Dumbledore stood at the front of the hall, his arms raised for silence. Immediately, the triumphant Gryffindors settled down into their seats, and the air in the Great Hall changed from warm, welcoming, and wild, to impatient and eager as the students waited for the headmaster's address.
"Students. Welcome, once again, to another year," Dumbledore paused, for dramatic reasons, before continuing, "at Hogwarts. Thank you for the warm welcome for this year's newcomers, I'm sure they all appreciated it. I would also like to welcome back an old friend, who, I hear, was more than willing to take up his previous job as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Please welcome back Professor Remus Lupin!"
Lupin stood up at the table, a broad smile illuminating his face as he heard the cheers of all the older students who recognized him, and the younger ones who had heard (exaggerated) stories about what he'd taught students, the most popular of them about the boggart, and Neville's reaction to it. With a small nod, he sat back down in his chair, letting Dumbledore once more take possession of the hall's attention.
"I must once again warn you all to take serious precautions to stay safe, both here, in the castle, down in Hogsmede, and back at home. With Voldemort still at large," the headmaster said, ignoring the shudders from a few students at the mention of Voldemort, "we must make sure to be aware of our surroundings and company. Filch has also asked me to announce that there is a strict rule against any products bought from 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' in Diagon Alley. A full list of the prohibited items is available in his office. Now, on a lighter note, I'm sure you all are starving, so please give your attention to Professor McGonagall, who has an important announcement to make, before the feast begins."
Whispers flew from student to student at this last announcement, weaving their way around each other in a delicate dance until the entire hall was filled with the students' thoughts on another professor announcing something during Dumbledore's speech. Any noise in the hall came to a stop, save for a few last whisperers, as the transfiguration teacher stood up, and prepped herself to talk.
Hermione realized, as the head of Gryffindor house was straightening her robes, that this announcement must've been what she was stressed about. Whatever she was going to say, it must be something big.
"Students, this year Hogwarts is going to try something it hasn't done before. Other schools have been starting it up, and we thought it wouldn't hurt to try. This year, the first-, second-, and third-year students will be leaving Hogwarts to go on a visit to Animaux Mystiques, in the northeastern corner of France." As the talking started up again, the professor waited until it was silent to go on.
"Animaux Mystiques is a school that specializes in magical animals and their properties, habits, and care. The students will be learning and caring for creatures that the older students have already studied, and will be gone for approximately three weeks, thus covering all material they would in a years time. Half of our staff will be going with them, so you will only have half of your classes, but they will fill your extra periods, too," she added, squashing the hopes of the older students.
"You will have your classes with the other teachers when they get back. We have arranged your schedules so that you will have just as much time in each class as you would any other year. We will be leaving in two days' time. Now, please, enjoy your delayed dinner."
She locked eyes with Dumbledore, who waved his arm, and the food magically appeared on the plates, much to the glee of the first years. The room was immediately filled with delicious aromas and a warm feel as the students plunged into the food put so graciously before them by the house elves. Hermione still hadn't forgotten the last bit about the house elves, and uneasy as she was about it, she had learned to accept their customs, seeing as it obviously made them happy, and helped herself to the food. She reached for the serving spoon associated with a bowl of strawberries, but was cut off as Ron's hand shot out to grab it and dump a pile of the fruit onto his plate, next to a pile of potatoes, corn, gelatin, and turkey.
"You sure you can eat all that, Ron?" Harry asked, following Hermione's amused gaze.
Ron looked down at the food on his plate, then back at Harry with a confused look. "Of course… why wouldn't I?"
Harry just laughed and turned his attention back to his own food before serving himself up another helping of corn. Hermione ate her strawberries subconsciously- her mind was on other things. I mean, sure, half of Hogwarts leaving for three weeks is a big thing- but it shouldn't make the teachers that stressed, should it? It just didn't make sense. Glancing at the head table again, the look on Hagrid's face confirmed her suspicions. He should be gleeful being able to see all those creatures at the new school, but he looked almost as nervous as McGonagall was stressed. Dumbledore was the only one acting normal, and that did nothing to ease her mind at all. She'd have to talk to Harry and Ron in the common room after the feast. In the meantime, she resolved, she would enjoy the steaming food those poor house elves had worked so hard to make.
A/N: Thanks to Elise Bentwin (for being a reviewer since the beginning), Morgan Ray (for reviewing each and every chapter), Queen Tigress, Janangel, Kandygurl4, CherryIzzy, and Kjerstimalfoy (I made Ron head boy mostly because I didn't want Draco to be. It was too cliché. And I think Ron might've jumped off a bridge or something if someone didn't give his character a spotlight of some sort.). Once again, sorry for the late update, but two weeks of camp and a writer's block doesn't exactly help. Thanks again! Please review, I love you guys!
&TheScarlettSecret