Aftermath

"All I want to know is who the target was!" Harry's words filled the dinning room of Grimmauld Place two days after the attack on Diagon Alley. Needless to say, the attack caused an immediate reaction within the Wizarding community.

When word broke that the Harry had been involved in the battle, the Prophet quickly latched on to the story and ran with it. In a day's time, it turned into an epic struggle of good against evil, The-Boy-Who-Lived against a countless, faceless horde of Death Eaters. How only he had been brave enough to stand up against the forces of evil. So-called eyewitnesses spoke of how he had stared down twenty Death Eaters then stunned them all before the Aurors had even bothered to arrive. It was complete rubbish of course, but that hadn't stopped the Prophet from printing a third edition before noon that day to keep up with demand. It was their highest selling edition since the Potter, Granger, Krum love triangle two years before.

But despite this hyperbole of heroism, the next day Diagon Alley, the central hub of Wizarding commerce for London if not all of Britain, was deserted. Shops were closed due to construction and even those few owners whose stores were left untouched by the massacre decided to stay away. Even Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes was closed for the day but there was a note on the door referring potential customers to their self-updating catalogues. But that would have required customers to come to brave the outside world and come to Diagon Alley to see the note. This single move by You-Know-Who had created a panic unseen in the Wizarding community since the days of Grendelwald. Such a daring strike at the heart of the Wizarding world caused a resounding pang of fear to spread across and engulf the entire magical community. No one left their homes unless it could be helped and even then they would only travel in groups with more than four people. Families gathered for dinner in silence, as if a whisper would bring the wrath of the Death Eaters down upon them. The Ministry had been inundated with requests to close Floo connections and create Anti-Apparation wards across the country. But even without these requests, the Ministry had their hands full trying to spin the incident.

The Daily Prophet, their ally only months earlier in the war against Harry, had turned on their former master. The next day, beneath Harry's heroic victory against all odds, was a scathing editorial by none other than Rita Skeeter condemning the Ministry for their lack of foresight, preparedness, and sheer incompetence. Speaking of how they should have known that this would have happened, how countless innocent lives were lost because the Ministry, and Fudge in particular, showed a reckless disregard for the safety of their own citizens. This of course gave the Ministry no help in actually creating a plan to stop another incident from occurring and really only established that more people wanted Fudge out of office than ever before.

This was compounded when the Ministry's Muggle Relations Department learned of the deaths of Hermione's muggle parents since they now had to fabricate a plausible reason that two healthy dentists died while still in London. Amidst the creation of the fatal automobile accident, a member of the team had burst through the doors with news of muggles outside Diagon Alley speaking of explosions coming from what had always been believed to be a barren lot had caused quite a few complaints to the local law enforcement. These complaints were quickly dismissed due the audacity of the claims and that once they left the station they had no recollection of why they had been there (courtesy of an oblivator rushed to the scene).

The Order, in the meantime, was trying to find out as much information as they possibly could concerning the motivation behind the attack. Unfortunately, due to the inherent limitations of monitoring Voldemort's activities, the task of gathering information fell to one person.

"If the target wasn't me then it had to have been someone else!" Harry reiterated.

"There was no target Mr. Potter," Snape's cool voice seeped through the room from where he sat.

"How could there have not been a target?"

"Yes Serverus," Dumbledore's calm voice floated across the assembled Order members. "Would you care to explain yourself?"

"The Dark Lord has made no overt actions since the Ministry made the statement concerning his return. The…incident at the Burrow," Snape began, cutting off those who begun to interject, "was not something the Dark Lord wanted to happen and it was not reported so it is of no concern to the public. The attack on Diagon Alley was an overt act of terrorism. The only goal of that attack was to maim or kill as many people as possible."

"But why wait?" asked Ron.

"Because, Mr. Weasley, by waiting two months after the Ministry's statement, people begin to doubt the Ministry. Now the people will be screaming for the Ministry to do something. Now all we can do is to hope they make the right decision."

"We've seen all the 'right' decisions they've made before," Harry muttered, rising from the table and heading for the door. A few murmurs came from those of the Order unknown to him, but he ignored their remarks and pushed open the door. Making a right, he headed up the long staircase to the second floor his mind adrift…all those people dead, Hermione's parents dead, lives destroyed…and for no reason, just to cause pain…so this, this is a war…

-----

Rain whipped past the window of the compartment Harry had decided to occupy for the trip to Hogwarts. Hermione and Ron had left for the Prefect's compartment as soon as the train had departed Platform 9 ¾. Ron had once again reverted to calling the first year's midgets, but to everyone's surprise and Harry's concern, Hermione said nothing to correct him. To say that Harry was concerned would be an understatement. Knowing full well what that type of guilt does to a person. She had barely had any time to grieve before they had to return to school and with the funeral only the day before and barely any of her family being able to make it, Harry was sure this was having more of an effect on her psyche than she let on. That compounded with the fact that the family Granger was spread across the globe, it seemed highly unlikely that she would be able to stay in England if she went to live with a relative.

Unfortunately, after the immediate display of emotions following the deaths of her parents, she had shut herself off completely. Everyone who tried to speak to her was cast aside and ignored. Ginny had tried to talk to her once while bringing her food but the result, as Ginny had put it, was like she had been petrified: she was physically there but there was absolutely no reaction. Mrs. Weasley had tried to speak with her on multiple occasions but on the rare occurrence that she said anything it consisted of "Leave me alone." This alone had created tension over what, if anything, that they could or should do for her.

The problem that had arisen from that line of thought was that, aside from Harry, none had dealt with the loss of a parent under the same circumstances. Initially they had tried being coy about getting him to talk to her but after all attempts of subterfuge failed Ron, under pressure from his mother, finally came to Harry to ask him flat out. It was that question that tore Harry in multiple directions. On one hand he didn't want one of his friends to suffer through the loss without anyone there to help. But on the same token, he didn't want to force Hermione to speak with him about it if she didn't want to since all that could come of that was more self-loathing. Finally making the decision that he wouldn't force anything, he remained in the dinning room of Grimmauld Place awaiting the trip to Platform 9 ¾.

"I can't believe they attacked Diagon Alley," Neville muttered in disbelief from behind his copy of The Daily Prophet.

"That's not really how it happened," Ginny cut in flipping to the next page in her edition, but she seemed just as annoyed with the Prophet's rendition of events as Harry was.

"I know it's not what happened," Neville replied a little dejected. "I just can't believe it happened…"

Luna, who had remained withdrawn in her own world since the train left, finally glanced over her upside down issue of The Quibbler to look at Harry, "How's Hermione?"

"She's pretty shaken, I don't kn- who's that?" the entire compartment turned to look the direction Harry had turned to see a young witch with shoulder length dirty blond hair standing just outside the door. The door opened timidly.

"Umm…Hi, all the other compartments are full, do you mind?" Huh, she's polite for an American.

"Sure, take a seat," Ginny answered, apparently eager for female company that actually responded.

The girl took a seat across from Harry, who turned back to studying the rain pelting the window. He barely caught that her name is Avalon but he did notice that he'd never seen the hazel-eyed witch before and that made him very wary of her. He also hadn't consciously slipped his hand into his robe to grab his wand but did realize that it remained there for the rest of the trip…

The group of five met up with Ron and Hermione when the train finally reached the station at Hogsmeade. After saying a brief hello to Hagrid and jumping into a carriage (with Avalon much to Harry's chagrin) they traveled up the narrow path to Hogwarts. As they entered the castle, Avalon split away from the group and Ron immediately leaned towards Harry, "Who was that?"

"Avalon-something," Harry answered as they approached the Great Hall.

"Mr. Potter."

Harry's attention turned towards the oh-so-familiar voice of Professor McGonagall. "Yes Professor?"

"I need to have a word with you please, this way." She gestured away from the Hall. Following her down the hallways they eventually arrived at her office. "Mr. Potter, I believe that I have something of yours."

"I don't believe so Professor," Harry answered, unsure of her meaning.

"Please, take a seat," she motioned to the chair opposite her desk and Harry quickly took the invitation. "I had made this decision quite some time ago; unfortunately it had taken quite some time to deal with the Ministry's remaining red tape. As such, I was unable to get this to you in a timely fashion." After rummaging through one of the drawers of her desk she removed a small brown envelope and handed it to Harry.

Unsure of what decision she could have made 'quite some time ago,' Harry opened the letter to find what appeared to be a silver prefect badge but closer inspection showed that the word "Captain" was where the word "Prefect" would have been. She made me Captian…I'm Quidditch Captain… "Professor, I-"

"Now a few things must be cleared up first," McGonagall interrupted, although the slight grin told Harry that she was just as pleased as he was. "First, although I believe that you will be an excellent Quidditch Captian, I have grown quite accustomed to having the House Cup in my office and I do not want to hand it over to Severus."

She paused, obviously making sure Harry had got the point. Although at that same instant, Harry realized that he didn't have a full team and as Captain it became his job to find replacements. That meant tryouts which he would have to watch over which added one more thing that he needed to do on top of his classes. A feeling of unease began to fill his stomach when Professor McGonagall continued.

"Second, the position of Quidditch Captain grants you the same rights and privileges of a house Prefect including the ability to give and take points. This is a tradition that has gone back as long as Quidditch has been played at this school…mainly to keep other teams from interfering with another house's practices but nevertheless it is a privilege that will be honored. I trust that you won't use them lightly."

"Yes Professor."

"Excellent, that is all Mr. Potter. I believe that we have missed the sorting but we should be able to make it back in time for dinner."

-----

"So what was that about?" Ron asked through a mouthful when Harry sat next to him. Once again he had missed the Sorting Ceremony but was glad to see he hadn't missed dinner. Once in his seat and after grabbing a share of the food covering the table he pulled the silver Captain badge from his pocket and showed it to Ron. "She made you Quidditch Captain? Wicked!"

"The only problem is we only have half a team," Harry managed to say after draining a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Simple, just have tryouts," Ron replied, before mumbling, "I hope I make the cut."

"What?"

"I just said," Ron voiced loudly, "I hope I make the cut."

"What are you talking about? You're already on the team."

"Harry, look," Ron said softly, "Everyone saw me play last year and if you don't try me out then everyone else would just say I'm there because I'm your mate. I don't want that."

"Do you really want to try out?" Harry asked cautiously.

"If I'm on the team then I want to prove I should be there."

"Okay then," Harry replied realizing his friend had made his choice and after five years of knowing Ron, Harry knew how stubborn he could be.

"So, you remember the new girl?" Ron asked after finishing seconds and reaching for thirds.

"What about her?"

"She's in our house. Took the Hat a while to decide, almost as long as you."

"So…?"

"Well," Ron said, leaning closer, "she's too big for a first year and she has an accent so she's probably a transfer student…do you think its Tonks?"

"Why didn't I think of that?" Harry smacked his forehead before glancing down the table to see where she was sitting. Luckily she wasn't too far and had taken a seat next to Ginny and was currently speaking with Ginny, Lavender, and Pavarti about the American obsession with action movies. Apparently Lavender had seen them before but Pavarti and Ginny, both being from wizarding families, had never heard of movies. Hermione, who was sitting next to Ginny, was completely oblivious of the conversation and was steadily moving mashed potatoes from one side of her plate to the other…it'll be easier after dinner…

A few minutes later the empty dishes, helf-full goblets, and the now spotless serving trays vanished from the tables and the entire student body turned expectantly towards Dumbledore. Not one to disappoint, the aged Headmaster dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin and rose from his seat. "I would like to welcome all first-years and returning students to another year here at Hogwarts.

"Now as you all know, due to a lack of foresight by the Ministry, we once again have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," you would have had to be deaf to miss the cheer that ripped through the Great Hall at the news of an Umbridge-free year. "Now I would like you all to welcome Seran Cleir as our new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts." There was a half-hearted round of applause from the assembled students. "I would also like to mention that for those sixth and seventh year students who elected to take Alchemy, Professor Cleir will be your instructor for that class as well."

"Oh joy," Harry groaned.

"Now a few housekeeping matters…I would like to remind all students that the Forbidden Forest is still just that and that students are not allowed in the halls after dark. Our caretaker Mr. Filch has asked me to announce to you that there has been a recent increase of banned items which includes nearly all items sold by Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"Free advertising," Ron mumbled to Harry before Dumbledore continued.

"Now for the parts that must be said. The return of Lord Voldemort-" a collective shudder ripped across the school. "-is something that affects all wizards, not just those who have decided to fight against him. I must ask that you all be wary of anything unusual and be sure to report it to an upper-classman, a Prefect, to our Head Boy or Head Girl, a Head of House, or any of your teachers." His eyes passed over the gathered students and came to rest on Harry with that mysterious twinkle somehow absent, and one thought filled his mind…he knows something…

"Now," Dumbledore clapped his hands together pulling Harry from his reverie. "Enough bad news, Prefects if you would lead your first-years to the dorms, I think that we've all had a long day."

Ron leaned to Harry, "The password is Orion," before he jumped to his feet. "Oi, all you midgets over here, on me! Come on, let's go!" Harry watched with a small grin as Ron towered over the group of first years. He said few words before leading them from the Great Hall with Hermione following silently at the rear.

Once Ron and Hermione had left the Great Hall, Harry leaned to Avalon, "Wotcher, Avalon."

Her hazel eyes flashed a deep blue before returning to their previous hue. She grinned slightly before replying, "Wotcher Harry," in a perfect American accent.

"We need to talk to Dumbledore, he knows something." She nodded in agreement and the two Gryffindors made their way to where Dumbledore remained sitting with his hands folded before him. "Headmaster, we need to talk-"

"In my office, correct?" Dumbledore rose from his chair and the three quickly exited the Great Hall.