I don't own Harry Potter…la di daa daa.
…
The Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher never did show up that night. But, when making her announcements, McGonagall appeared totally unflustered, but solemn. She began with the usually announcements.
"Most of you should know by now that the Forbidden Forest is named what it is for a reason. Please do not enter it.
"The list of banned items has once again been expanded, along with the expansion of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. All of their items are on the list, along with a few others. If you wish to check, the list will be hanging on Mr. Filch''s office door." She grew even more serious.
"With the death of Headmaster Dumbledore, this school is not quite as safe as it used to be. Please be aware of this fact. Safety precautions this year will include the cancellation of all Hogsmeade weekends" – everyone groaned – "and no student will go out on the grounds unless accompanied by at least two others, preferably including at least one fifth-year or above. No one will leave the grounds. To break any of these rules will place the entire school in danger, so please take these seriously, even if you take the other, long-standing rules less so.
"If you sight a Death Eater anywhere on or near the grounds, don't try to fight. Get back to the castle and raise the alarm. There are fighters more capable than you here; please realize that they are more capable of dealing with an attack than you." As she said this, the entire Great Hall was stone quiet.
"If you cannot run, or do not have time, then send sparks into the air. Tomorrow morning's classes have been delayed so that we can check that every student is capable of performing this spell. This signal, however, is a last resort. If we are being attacked then it would not be advisable to give away your position unless absolutely necessary." McGonagall paused for a moment, and Harry was sure that, like him, she was remembering the attack at the end of last year.
"Many of you have probably noticed that the chair usually occupied by our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is empty. Because of the war with You-Know-Who, I have not been able to find a teacher for this position. Anyone with any fighting experience is too busy fighting to teach. Because Defense is such a crucial subject, especially now, I do not intend to have the classes cancelled. For now, I will personally teach these classes.
"As I am now the Headmistress, I have had to decide on the new Gryffindor Head of House. Trust me; this has not been an easy task, as I have enjoyed guiding all of our young Lions…" Here McGonagall smiled fondly. "…although some of you are quite troublesome. In the end, I chose Professor Hagrid. Please make him welcome in his new position." Everyone excluding the Slytherins clapped politely as Hagrid stood and waved to the Gryffindor table.
"I also have had to find a new Transfiguration professor. Thankfully since transfiguration does not require any skill in fighting, I was able to find you all a Professor, though he is currently running quite late. I expect him to be here by tomorrow morning, at least.
"In the morning all years, except first years, will stay in the Great Hall after breakfast in order to be cleared as far as their knowledge of our signal spell. First years will all be taught this spell in charms, whenever that takes place for each individual.
"There is only one more thing. Most of you know what happened to one of our students in the attack last year." Harry ducked his head. He wished that McGonagall had warned him she would be speaking about him.
"Harry Potter cannot speak. Please do not take advantage of this, while he learns to adjust."
Harry, suddenly feeling like his situation couldn't be left like the Headmistress had painted it, whirled to Hermione and signed frantically to her.
"Stand up, and tell them that I'm not helpless!"
"Will Harry still be the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team?" Cho Chang, now the Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, asked loudly.
"That is entirely up to Mr. Potter."
Harry stood, drawing Hermione up with him.
"Tell them yes, I'm still Quidditch Captain!" He signed, not caring that the entire school was watching, mystified by his gestures.
Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "Are you sure you don't want to tell McGonagall this in private, Harry?" He nodded vehemently.
"Harry says he'll still captain the Gryffindor Quidditch team." Hermione announced. The Gryffindors cheered.
Harry elbowed her in the ribs.
"Tell them I can still do magic! Please!"
"He said? How could he say anything? I thought he was dumb?" Pansy Parkinson shouted. The comment was obviously enough to get Hermione to overcome her nerves as Harry clenched his fists at the derogatory term.
"Harry can still communicate, just not in the way we are all used to. He uses sign language now; some of you probably heard about it at the end of last year. I will be putting together study groups for those who wish to learn it; notices will be posted in the library. Also, Harry…" here Hermione glanced at her friend, who was still annoyingly signing her, telling her to make sure that they didn't think he was helpless.
"…would like me to tell you all that he can defend himself. He is still able to perform magic, despite what the Daily Prophet has been saying. They never even came to see Harry himself; there is no reason to believe anything they have said regarding him. All of it is stories. Now, Harry, does that satisfy you?" Harry nodded and sat back down, finally. Hermione also resumed her seat and then glanced around, blushing at the realization of what she had just done.
McGonagall, still up at the podium, cleared her throat and awkwardly resumed speaking.
"As I was saying, I believe that is all. You may all go to your dormitories; first years follow your prefects. Goodnight." Then she hurried away through a back teacher's door, and was followed by the other members of staff.
Hermione and Ron both stood.
"First years! Follow me!" Hermione called. Harry stood with her and Ron as they gathered the tiny little first years around them.
The children stared at Harry with unconcealed curiosity, but none of them spoke to him. Hermione shepherded them out of the Great Hall and up to the Gryffindor Portrait Hole, where the other, older Gryffs had already gathered and were waiting to hear what the password was.
Hermione, with Ron trailing behind, pushed her way through the throng. At the portrait she turned and addressed the crowd of Gryffindors.
"The password will be changing weekly now. Please do not write it down. I'm afraid you'll have to rely on your memories." Hermione gave them all a small smile, and fished a small paper from her pocket, presumably with the new password on it.
"This week's password is, 'protection.'"
The fat lady opened her portrait silently, watching the stream of students flow past without a word. It was uncharacteristic of her, Harry though. But then again, he supposed that the war could get to even the portraits.
Harry stuck closely to Neville, who was the last person in the ragged line to get in the common room besides Harry. Neville noticed Harry's proximity and turned to him.
"Don't worry, Harry, you won't be left out here. I'll make sure. We'll have to talk to McGon…I mean, Hagrid, to see if we can figure out some way for you to get into the common room by yourself." Neville said.
"It's weird that Hagrid is our head of house now. I can't believe it isn't McGonagall anymore. But Hagrid'll be good, I think. He is brave, that's certain, working in the Forbidden Forest…" Neville trailed off and shivered in fright. Harry. Having long ago decided that finger-spelling was much too tedious to carry out a conversation with, just gave Neville a small smile and a nod in reply. Neville seemed satisfied, though.
"McGonagall has got one heck of a workload this year, don't you think? I mean, she's just getting herself installed as headmistress and now she's got to teach classes, all because of the war. At least she doesn't still have to manage Transfiguration. I wonder who the new teacher for that will be? Someone from the Order, maybe?" Neville continued to chatter as they drew nearer to the portrait.
"U know order?" Harry finger-spelled, surprised that Neville knew about what was supposed to be a secret organization.
"Yeah, my parents were in it. I heard from my gran that it got started up again, back in fifth year. Your parents were in it too, Harry." Neville said.
"I know. I been in headquarters." Harry signed, again having to spell out each word individually.
Neville goggled at Harry for a second.
"I should have known, you being you. Do Ron and Hermione know, too? Have they been? When did you find out?"
"Yes, yes, summer pre-fifth."
"Wow, you've known that long? Have you joined? Do you think I could?"
"Inside." Harry finger-spelled, as they had reached the portrait hole and Neville hadn't realized it. Harry led the way in, and hearing Neville following behind.
Hermione was already giving the first years a lecture on the basics: going over the school rules, how they weren't allowed to join the Quidditch teams yet, and how if they had any problems to come to find her or Ron, or one of the other younger prefects from sixth or fifth year.
Once she had finished that, she looked up, spotted Harry watching her talk while Ron stood back awkwardly, and she smiled.
"Now, first years, I know that you heard the Headmistress's announcements, but I'd like you to meet Harry." Harry's eyes widened and he unconsciously took a step back as the first years turned to look at him as if they were a single entity, all moving in synch with each other. Then the older years, realizing that something was happening, turned to look at Harry as well.
Harry felt pinned to the wall.
"Hermione, make them stop. Everyone is staring." Harry signed, glancing around. Hermione just smiled.
"Now, Harry is our Quidditch team captain, so if you ever want to get on the team he's the one you have to impress. And, he is also quite shy, so please try not to stare at him." Immediately all the first years made themselves look anywhere in the common room other than Harry, although they did sneak a few glances at him. His shoulders relaxed and he made his way over to one of the armchairs by the fire, where some of the older years were hanging out. A few were even frantically completing summer homework!
Harry flopped into a plush chair and thought about what a schedule he'd have this year. He not only had to keep up with classes, silent magic, advance even farther in sign-language, and captain the quidditch team; he'd be re-starting the DA, Hermione was probably going to wrap him into her sign language study groups, and the Slytherins were going to be a nuisance. Not to mention that he couldn't get into the common room without someone else, couldn't play chess without causing panic over Parseltongue, and wasn't going to be able to go anywhere for the first month or so without being stared at by absolutely everyone.
Harry decided he should plan out the Quidditch schedule first, and then plan out the DA. Realizing he needed his writing supplies, but not wanting to have to trudge up to the dorm to get it, Harry took out his wand.
The students around him were suddenly watching him. They had heard the stories in the Prophet; Harry wasn't supposed to be able to perform magic anymore, even if Hermione had said differently in the Great Hall.
Harry resolutely ignored them, on concentrated on summoning his quills, inks, and parchments scrolls. Even though he couldn't see any effect, he could feel his magic working, and he knew that the supplies he had summoned were on their way.
Harry relaxed back into the chair and put away his wand. The students around him frowned in confusion.
Then a clump of writing supplies whizzed through the air and plopped themselves in Harry's lap. The students stared in astonishment, while Harry calmly ignored them and set himself up to do some organization.
"How did he do that…"
"A multiple summoning charm…"
"Must be difficult…"
"Completely silent…"
"Best magic…"
"Thought he was…"
"Squib…"
In just a few seconds the entire Common Room knew exactly what Harry had just done. Everyone was talking excitedly to their friends, discussing Harry's magic. The only exception was Harry himself, who sat oblivious to it all while he planned out his hectic year.
"Did you not believe her when she told you he could perform magic?" Ron shouted, to the room at large. He had apparently become fed-up with being pestered about his friend's magical abilities, and had so decided to settle things once and for all.
"Hermione told everyone that Harry can still do magic. Well, all you've just seen is confirmation. So stop gossiping about it." Ron said. Harry, although he appeared to not notice any of this, was actually listening intently. He was glad that Ron had put a stop to the gossiping.
Now that Angelina Johnson had graduated, not all of the Gryffindors seemed quite as protective of Harry as they had been. She had seemed to get people to rally under her, for her cause, which had been, "protect Harry at all costs." Because she had inspired them, they had rallied around Harry. But now, she wasn't here anymore, and no one was declaring that Harry needed protecting and it was their job, as Gryffindors, to do it.
But, it didn't matter too much. Harry was glad that he really didn't need protection anymore.
It still would have been nice to have some more support, though.
…
Eventually, Harry decided to hold the Quidditch try-outs the next week on Monday. He had two Chaser positions open, as well as the two beaters. Ron was keeper, Ginny was a chaser, and Harry himself, of course, was still the seeker. Harry wrote out his notice for the try-outs.
Gryffindor Quidditch Team Try-Outs
The positions open will be two Chasers and both Beaters. If you do not make the team, you may be put on the reserve team. Try-outs will be next Monday morning at 7a.m, before breakfast. Talk to me if you have any questions.
Harry
That was good enough, Harry thought, holding the parchment up and waving it in the air a bit, just to make sure that the ink had dried. He got up from his armchair and made his way over to the notice board, which wasn't very full at the moment. The only other things posted was an advertisement for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which Ron had put up under duress from his twin brothers; and the usual daily schedule, showing when the meals took place and when the holidays began and ended.
Harry used a sticking charm to post his Quidditch notice. He was perfectly aware that he was being watched again, but he ignored the eyes trained on him as he made his way back to his armchair.
After a minute or two, students began to trickle up to the notice board to see what Harry had posted. A few seemed disappointed, as if he would have written an autobiography and stuck it up for the entire common room to see.
But a few stayed and read his notice, and Harry saw a few of them muttering as they read to themselves. They were the ones who were actually interested in the try-outs, and not just Harry and his life's drama. Harry looked them over, searching for the potential team members.
There was a girl from third year, who looked as if she would make a fair chaser. Her build was light, which would help her speed and maneuverability. Another boy was tall and skinny. He might have been in sixth year. He, along with yet another girl, seemed to have the right build for chasers.
There were three boys who looked about fifth year, who were stocky and would be well suited for the beater positions. Harry just hoped that they were all decent flyers.
Harry noticed one of the girls detach from the clump of people around the board and start towards where he was sitting. Harry pulled out his notebook and pen, in preparation for a conversation. Then he started to plan out the DA meetings, just to appear busy.
The girl lingered a few feet behind his chair for a couple minutes, and Harry began to get impatient. Was she scared of him?
Finally he gave up pretending to be busy, and turned to look pointedly at her. He quirked his eyebrow, asking, what is it? She seemed startled at first, but then she ducked her head and walked up to him.
"Hi, I'm Brianna." She said. Harry nodded in acknowledgement. She was definitely nervous.
"Well, you probably know who I am." Harry wrote on his pad, and he showed it to her. Her lips quirked in a tiny smile.
"Yeah, I sort of do. Umm…I was curious…why are the beater positions open? I thought that last year two beaters were found."
"Their families decided to leave Europe, because of the war with Voldemort. They're in the states, I think." Harry wrote, trying to keep his usually messy handwriting neat so that Brianna could read it.
"Oh…"
"You can ask, you know."
"Ask? What?" She seemed surprised, and a little guilty.
"You seem awkward. You can ask about my voice, if you want to know. I'd rather people find out the real story from me than just blindly believe the lies in the Prophet."
"What…what happened?"
"A rogue curse hit my neck. I have no idea what it was; only that it sort of lit the insides of my neck on fire. It burned away my vocal chords."
"Oh…that must have been terrible. It must still be terrible." Brianna had, by now, come up next to Harry so that she could read his messages as he wrote them.
"I'm managing."
"I know…but…still…if you don't mind my asking, what has been the hardest?"
"Realizing everything that I cannot do now. For the first few weeks I was sort of in shock; I didn't really react. Then one day…it sort of all just came crashing down on me. I was a wreck."
"I'm sorry."
"I don't need sympathy."
"No, I'm sorry about everything that's been in the papers. They had no right to say anything."
"Well thanks. That's the first time someone said something along those lines. The papers are what sting the most."
"Yeah well…I'm glad you're still alive. I'll be trying out for a chaser position, so I guess I'll see you on Monday."
Harry nodded, and she turned and walked away. Another group of younger girls immediately surrounded her, pestering her about her conversation with Harry Potter. Harry sighed. Some things, like people's curiosity, never changed.
