Chapter Four: Return to Hogwarts
Thanks to Harry turning Sirius's hair a different color, he was able to join them on their journey to King's Cross Station without risking himself. Just being a dog wasn't enough, not when everyone who knew about his Animagus form knew it was a Grim. Harry had added little wheels to one end of his trunk so he could just pick up one edge and roll it rather than trying to lift the whole thing. Sure, he'd put a wandless Featherlight Charm on it, but it was still awkward to move. Sirius was acting like a giant puppy, chasing squirrels and birds and generally bouncing around, his rear and tail moving at full wag the whole time. It made the kids all grin and laugh, despite Mrs. Weasley's disapproval of him being out at all.
Tonks joined them on their way, appearing to be an old woman. She had tightly curled gray hair and wore a purple hat shaped like a porkpie.
It took them twenty minutes to reach King's Cross by foot and nothing more eventful happened during that time than Sirius scaring a couple of cats for Harry's entertainment. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through onto platform nine and three quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families. Harry smiled a little, as he was nearly home.
"Nice dog, Harry!" called a tall boy with dreadlocks.
"Thanks, Lee," said Harry, grinning, as Sirius wagged his tail frantically.
A porter's cap pulled low over his mismatched eyes, Moody soon came limping through the archway pushing a cart full of their trunks.
"All okay," he muttered to Mrs. Weasley and Tonks. "Don't think we were followed…"
Seconds later, Mr. Weasley emerged onto the platform with Ron and Hermione. They had almost unloaded Moody's luggage cart when Fred, George, and Ginny turned up with Lupin.
"No trouble?" growled Moody.
"Nothing," said Lupin.
"I'll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore," said Moody. "That's the second time he's not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus."
"Well, look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all round. He reached Harry last and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "You too, Harry. Be careful."
"Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled," said Moody, shaking Harry's hand too. "And don't forget, all of you—careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all."
"It's been great meeting all of you," said Tonks, hugging Hermione and Ginny. "We'll see you soon, I expect."
A warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying onto the train.
"Quick, quick," said Mrs. Weasley distractedly, hugging them at random and catching Harry twice. "Write…Be good…If you've forgotten anything we'll send it on…Onto the train, now, hurry…"
For one brief moment, the great black dog reared onto its hind legs and placed its front paws on Harry's shoulders, but Mrs. Weasley shoved Harry away toward the train door hissing, "For heaven's sake act more like a dog, Sirius!"
The train began to move, while Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waved to the people on the figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as they shrank rapidly, the penny-colored dog bounding alongside the window, wagging its tail; blurred people on the platform were laughing to see it chasing the train, and then they turned the corner, and Sirius was gone.
Fred and George went to find Lee and get some "business" done, Ron and Hermione had to go to the prefect carriage to get their initial instructions, and Harry and Ginny went to find a cabin for them all. Harry immediately noticed the atmosphere of mistrust on the train as they poked their heads into different cabins looking for seats, but he didn't take it to heart. He knew it was because of the Daily Prophet. He did wonder, however, what it would take for him to buy the paper and force them to start writing sense, if the public trusted them so much.
In the very last carriage they met Neville Longbottom, Harry's fellow fifth-year Gryffindor, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.
"Hi, Harry," he panted. "Hi, Ginny…Everywhere's full…I can't find a seat…"
"What are you talking about?" said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here—"
Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.
"Don't be silly," said Ginny, laughing, "she's all right."
She slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside it. Harry and Neville followed.
"Hi, Luna," said Ginny. "Is it okay if we take these seats?"
The girl beside the window looked up. She had loosely curled, waist-length blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Outwardly she appeared rather dotty with her wand stuck behind her left ear for safekeeping and her necklace of butterbeer caps, reading a magazine upside down. But her presence in the force was not only distinctive, but shining and bright. She was powerful, and he wondered if she was hiding on purpose or if she just didn't care what others thought. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded.
"Thanks," said Ginny, smiling at her.
Harry and Neville stowed the three trunks and Hedwig's cage in the luggage rack and sat down. The girl called Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She stared and stared at Harry with an unblinking gaze, as he sat in the seat opposite her. He could feel her nervousness.
"Had a good summer, Luna?" Ginny asked.
"Yes," said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter," she added.
"Yes," said Harry. "Pleased to meet you, Luna."
Luna turned to Neville. "And I don't know who you are."
"I'm nobody," said Neville hurriedly.
"No you're not," said Ginny sharply. "Neville Longbottom—Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," said Luna in a singsong voice.
Harry answered her, "Great wit is fine. Understanding is better."
She smiled brightly at him, her nerves calmer, and nodded, then raised her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face and fell silent. Ginny and Neville looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. Ginny suppressed a giggle.
The train rattled onward, speeding them out into open country. It was an odd, unsettled sort of day; one moment the carriage was full of sunlight and the next they were passing beneath ominously gray clouds. Harry folded his legs up under him on the seat and went to work on his new Occulmensy shields. He had a feeling he would be able to make them much stronger now that he didn't have a piece of Voldemort's soul stuck to his mind.
Once he had the shields in place, he sunk into the force, prodding them and looking for weaknesses. It was not something he could do from the inside, as it were, because the view would be too subjective. But the force could tell him what he needed to work on. Right away, he found a couple of cracks in his shields, and started bolstering them. Once they sealed, he felt the shield become stronger, more fluid. He'd have to keep doing that until he could instinctively raise a rock-solid shield.
Neville had gotten a cactus for his birthday, and went to show them it's very cool defense mechanism, but Harry stopped him when he went to poke it with a quill. "Isn't that the plant that produces stinksap?" The cactus was quivering in the force, full of nervous energy, and if it were threatened, it would not react well. Neville nodded, and Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't fancy wearing it, do you?"
"Oh." Neville said sheepishly.
"Oh, indeed. It's still very interesting, though." Harry didn't want his friend to feel bad about it, and he perked up.
Harry noticed the article in Luna's magazine on Sirius, and asked her if he could read it. It was strange, expressing the opinion that Sirius was actually the lead singer for the Hobgoblins, Stubby Boardman, and was therefore nowhere near the scene of the crime he was accused of. Because of this they were calling for him to be pardoned. He appreciated the sentiment, of course, but it would do no good, being based on falsehood. He returned the magazine to Luna, thanking her.
"You seem disappointed."
"I don't mean to."
She smiled gently at him. "You'll have the proof you need eventually." He smiled back at her gratefully.
Ron and Hermione came in about an hour after the train left the station, and they told the others who all the new prefects were. Malfoy had, of course, gotten the male slot in Slytherin, joined by Pansy Parkinson. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott were the prefects in Hufflepuff, and Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil were the ones for Ravenclaw.
"We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often," he told Harry and Neville, "and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something. . . ."
"You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!" said Hermione sharply.
"Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all," said Ron sarcastically.
Harry said, "Ron, do you really want to be lumped in with him?" Ron scowled at him. "Don't look at me that way. I know you're better than him, Ron, so you should act like it!"
As if their thinking about him had summoned him, the compartment door slid open to reveal Draco Malfoy's smirking face.
Harry said in a cold voice, "May we help you?"
"Just offering my congratulations to the two new prefects, Potter. Noticed you got passed over."
He shrugged. "There can't be more than two. And I hear congratulations are in order for you as well. Consider them offered."
"Thank you. You might just have to watch your step this year, though."
Harry let the corner of his mouth turn up just a bit. "We'll see. Have a nice day."
Irritated that he hadn't got a rise out of Harry, Malfoy turned back into the corridor, his nose in the air. Ron said, "How do you do that?"
"Meditation has given me the tools to stay calm. It also has study benefits, like retaining information with less study time and it's required for several magical disciplines, such as Occulmensy." He didn't state out loud that it was required for touching one's magical core and accessing the force. "I could teach you, if you want. It takes patience, though, and discipline."
Ron frowned. "Sounds like a lot of work."
Harry smiled. "It was at first. But a lot can be accomplished by a calm mind." He looked at Hermione, and she grinned, knowing exactly what he meant by that.
By the time they reached the castle, the clouds and darkness had made everything gloomy and spooky-looking. Hagrid was missing, with Professor Grubbly-Plank replacing him, at least temporarily, in leading the first year students to the boats.
"Where's Hagrid?" he said out loud.
"I don't know," said Ginny, "but we'd better get out of the way, we're blocking the door."
He nodded, and walked on. Harry and Ginny became separated as they moved off along the platform and out through the station. Jostled by the crowd, Harry squinted through the darkness for a glimpse of Hagrid; he had to be here, Harry had been relying on it—seeing Hagrid again had been one of the things to which he had been looking forward most. But there was no sign of him at all.
He can't have left, Harry told himself as he shuffled slowly through a narrow doorway onto the road outside with the rest of the crowd. He's just got a cold or something…
He looked around for Ron or Hermione, wanting to know what they thought about the reappearance of Professor Grubbly-Plank, but neither of them was anywhere near him, so he allowed himself to be shunted forward onto the dark rain-washed road outside Hogsmeade station.
Here stood the hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle. Harry glanced quickly at them, turned away to keep a lookout for Ron and Hermione, then did a double take.
The coaches were no longer horseless. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts; if he had had to give them a name, he supposed he would have called them horses, though there was something reptilian about them, too. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither—vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. Standing still and quiet in the gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister. But to the force, they simply felt like a leashed predator, quite tame, in fact.
With caution, not wanting to spook or irritate it, Harry approached one of the creatures, allowing it first to scent his hand, and then when he got a favorable reaction, he ran his hand down the creature's bony neck and across the shoulder. The coat was just like horse hair, but there were scales beneath it.
Ron said, "What are you doing?" He was looking at Harry like he had three heads.
"What? Sure they look fierce, but they're quite obviously tamed."
Hermione, who was just getting into the coach said, "What are?"
He realized suddenly that they couldn't see them for some reason. "Come here." They looked at each other and shrugged, then came over to join him. He had each of them petting the horse-like animals, not wanting either of them to think he'd gone 'round the bend or something.
"Why can't we see them?" wondered Hermione.
Luna said, "Because you have never seen death. They're called thestrals. Most people are glad not to be able to see them, I'm sure. We should go."
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During the trip to the castle they talked about Hagrid's absence. Not knowing him as they did, Luna expressed a rather negative opinion of his teaching that set Ron and Ginny off. Harry said, "While he may not be the best teacher, Luna, he has a real love of the subject, and more importantly to all of us, he is a great friend."
She looked at him closely, trying to figure him out. Harry just looked back, and she nodded slowly. "I understand."
Once they reached the castle, they all disembarked, and Harry threw the thestrals a long look. Then he turned to go inside with everyone else. They went up the stone stairs, through the torch-festooned entrance hall, and into the brilliantly-lit Great Hall. Luna went her own way toward the Ravenclaw table, while the five Gryffindors quickly found seats together at their own house table.
A quick scan of the staff table revealed Master Kang and another new face. She looked, Harry thought, like somebody's maiden aunt: squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turned her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet and he saw a pallid, toadlike face and a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes. He wondered what her position on the staff was to be.
Then Professor Grubbly-Plank appeared and sat in the seat that would normally be taken by Hagrid. That meant the Sorting was about to start, and he sat a little straighter in his seat. Not long after that the doors from the entrance hall opened. A long line of scared-looking first years were then led down to the front of the hall by Professor McGonagall, where the Sorting Hat waited on a stool.
The Hat sang a rather long song this year, declaring the need for unity among the houses, warning them that they would need each other. Then it Sorted the first years, from Abercrombie, Euan to Zeller, Rose. Finally, Dumbledore released the students to eat, leaving everyone to enjoy the welcoming feast and to discuss their summer vacations.
When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the hall was starting to creep upward again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the headmaster. "Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students—and a few of our older students ought to know by now too." (Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged smirks.)
"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.
"We have had three changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons while Professor Hagrid visits with family; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Kang Pitei-Kusan, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Kang comes to us from the far east in South Korea and has agreed to give us a year of his time. Finally we welcome Professor Dolores Umbridge, who will be teaching a new and required course called Laws and Customs for British Magical Persons. You'll note that there was no text for her class on your school book lists, but they will be provided for you on your first day in the class."
Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on—"
He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, "Hem, hem," and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.
Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts. He didn't think they should be underestimating the seriousness of the situation.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome." She then launched into the most boring speech Harry'd ever had to endure, including Professor Binns's class, but he forced himself to listen closely, and it wasn't good. He had a feeling that this would have been the person teaching them Defense if Professor Dumbledore hadn't thought to ask Master Kang to teach it, and he was quite grateful that she wouldn't be. This new class would be difficult, though.
Her speech finished, she sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Harry noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again. "Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now—as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held . . ."
"Yes, it certainly was illuminating," said Hermione in a low voice.
"You're not telling me you enjoyed it?" Ron said quietly, turning a glazed face upon Hermione. "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy."
"I said illuminating, not enjoyable," said Hermione. "It explained a lot."
"Yes," said Harry. "The Ministry is trying to interfere in how Hogwarts is run. This is a private school, so they should have no say, legally. I wonder what changed?"
"There would have had to be a new law written, requiring this Law and Custom class. Mind I think something along those lines should have been part of the curriculum in first year to help the Muggleborn students, but I doubt that's what's going to be going on in that class."
Harry nodded. There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Hermione jumped up, looking flustered.
"Ron, we're supposed to show the first years where to go!"
Harry said, "I'll catch up to all of you later. I'm going to the library to find anything I can on magical mental disciplines. I want to know if there's anything other than Legilimensy and Occulmensy."
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If there was one thing Harry hated, it was being stared at with fear. He'd grown to hate that feeling in second year, when everyone had thought he was the Heir of Slytherin, and he hated it now, feeling it coming from various minds around him in the Hall. He should have expected it, he supposed. They'd seen him come back with Cedric's body, shouting that Voldemort was back, and they'd all read the paper over the summer. Many believed the smear that the Minister and the Prophet were running. But he resolved to ignore it, to not let it get to him. It was enough that he and his friends knew he was not mad, that his friends trusted him.
He only found one book in the library on mental arts, and it proved to be a copy of the same one Sirius had given him, so he left it there and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. When he reached the portrait door, he realized he didn't know the password. But Neville ran up behind him and told the Fat Lady, "Mimbulus mimbletonia."
She said, "Correct," and opened up to let them into the tower.
"Thanks, Neville."
When he went into the dorm, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan were talking, but they stopped when he walked through the door. Dean tried to smooth the space over by asking, "Hey, Harry. Good summer?"
"It didn't start off that way, but I think it ended well. You?"
"Better than Seamus's."
Neville asked, "What happened?" as he placed his cactus on the table next to his bed.
Harry wasn't sure Seamus was going to answer for a moment, he put so much effort into ensuring that his Kenmare Kestrels Quidditch poster was hung just as he wanted it, but finally he said, "Me mam didn't want me to come back."
"Why?" Harry asked, hedging around the reason he suspected. "Was she afraid Voldemort would attack the school?"
Seamus flushed. "No. Because she doesn't believe you and Dumbledore."
Sadly Harry nodded. Quietly, he said, "And what do you believe? Am I a liar, and Dumbledore a fool for believing me? Or is Voldemort quietly gathering strength while the Minister does his job for him?"
"Merlin, Harry, do you know how that sounds?"
"No, and I'm afraid I don't have the luxury of time to worry about it. I'm sorry if that's caused you problems at home, though."
Seamus stared at him for a moment, looking him right in the eye. Slowly he nodded. "They've got you all wrong, haven't they. And that means he really is back. All right. Since we aren't going to hear it from them, let's hear it from you. What happened at the end of last year?"
So, for the next hour, Harry told Dean, Seamus and Neville what happened in the final task and in the graveyard, and immediately after. He told them of Sirius Black's innocence, and he told them of Peter Pettigrew's betrayal of his parents. He didn't tell them about the Order of the Phoenix, but he did tell them that Dumbledore was planning his fight against Voldemort since the Minister refused to see reason. Finally, he said, "Now please don't misunderstand me. I'm not looking for vindication against everyone who's speaking against me. I've only told you lot because we're mates and you deserve to know what's going on. But I just can't go through it with everyone in the school, you know?"
The boys all looked at one another and nodded. Seamus said, "Don't worry, Harry. We've got your back."
Dean nodded, too. "Yeah. We'll get the others to back off about you. It's none of their business, anyway."
Ron had come in during this, and grinned at Harry. He just smiled back at his friend and they all went to their beds.
Before sleeping, Harry meditated and practiced his Occulmensy, once again looking at his shields from the outside to see how they were holding up. They were certainly getting better, especially since he didn't have that Horcrux making them worse, but he still spotted a few cracks here and there and worked on sealing them. Deep in the grip of the force, a vision came to him. He knew that it was of the future, but how far forward he couldn't say. It was of Voldemort, standing over a broken white tomb, holding a wand over his head in triumph. Coming out of it, Harry took out his dream journal for Divination and wrote it down. He might think Professor Trelawney was nutters, but that didn't mean she wasn't correct about some things, and writing down a dream which may prove prophetic was a good idea.
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Notes: To the reviewer Smutley DW; One, Harry is still a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors rush forward where angels and more sensible people fear to tread; Two, Harry is trying to become a Jedi, and therefore trying to put away such things as petty vengeance. I'm not saying you're wrong about how this would play out for other versions of Harry, but not this particular one.
To the reviewer Huh; I found more than one word. Both made sense to me, not being a student of Latin.
To the reviewer Darksnider; The OotP is kind of a neighborhood watch kind of group dealing with an actual threat. They're not dealing with bicycle thieves, to be sure, but they're not an army, either. And Merlin help us if the Minister ever actually gets off his duff about it! No, this is still a very individually oriented fight. As for Arthur, well I wouldn't want to give anything away.
To the reviewer Vukk; Snape made an Unbreakable Oath to Narcissa at the beginning of DH. And Remus is proud of Harry for taking the moral high ground, even if the wolf in him would like to use them for chew toys. The Patronus is burnt onto the blade of anyone using this new variant of the spell by virtue of the spell still having that form. You'll note that Master Kang's is a crane.
To all reviewers; Thank you for your comments. They make me think, make me watch what I'm doing so that I don't contradict myself or something, and give me a reason to keep writing other than the plotbunnies trying to eat my ankles.
