As they disembarked the train and started making their way towards the carriages, Harry felt a sinking in his stomach at the number of students – in his class all the way down to the second years – who were stopping and staring at the Thestrals, once invisible and now standing plain as day in front of them, occasionally tossing their black, skeletal heads. He heard Luna explaining to one of her fellow Ravenclaws, "They won't harm you – they're quite gentle. They just look scary because they usually like keeping to themselves; the Hogwarts Thestrals are one of the only tame herds in Europe."
Slowly, people were getting over the seemingly sudden appearance of the beasts and were getting up into the carriages. Harry found himself sharing with Ron, Hermione and Ginny.
Once settled, Ron immediately turned to his sister as the carriages started forward with a jolt, a frown marring his freckled face.
"Oi, what's the deal with Zabini?"
Ginny shrugged, and Harry had to hide a smile – the resemblance between the two redheads wasn't obvious at first (barring their shared hair colour), but seeing the two siblings sit across from each other, Harry couldn't help but notice the similarities in their gestures. Hermione caught his eye and hid a smile by looking out the window – she'd mentioned something similar to Harry in the past.
"Nothing's the deal with Zabini – he helped us out last year. He's alright."
"He's a Slytherin!" Ron exclaimed, and Ginny's cheeks started to flush the way they did when she was trying not to get angry.
"So what? Ron, we can't be doing this anymore! This is entire bloody war was only possible because of that kind of thinking! Slytherins aren't inherently evil, just like Gryffindors aren't always good. Don't you know that's why Percy left?"
"What?" Ron stammered, confused by the sudden change in topic.
"Why he left. Why he found it so easy to walk away from us, when You-Know-Who had first returned?" Ginny's freckles were almost hidden by her flushing cheeks now, and her eyes sparkled with angry tears that refused to fall.
"No, I never asked him. He came back, it doesn't matter why he left." Ron said mulishly, and Ginny snorted.
"Of course it matters, you idiot. He left because he felt more accepted at the Ministry than he did at home. Because all his life – all our lives – we had been told that to be a Slytherin is evil. To be ambitious, and cunning, and to want to succeed in life... is wrong. Did you know that the Sorting Hat wanted to put Percy in Slytherin?"
Ron gaped at his sister, and Harry felt a pang of sympathy for Percy Weasley. When the Hat had tried to put Harry in Slytherin, he'd argued against it, and he'd barely known about the Hogwarts Houses for a day. He could only imagine how it must have affected Percy, who would have grown up with his everyone around him expecting him to go into Gryffindor like the rest of his family.
"But- he didn't. The Hat put him in Gryffindor!" Ron sputtered finally, and the uncomfortable feeling Harry got in his stomach whenever he was reminded of the Sorting Hat's wish to place him in Slytherin encouraged him to speak up.
"The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account. If Percy didn't want to go into Slytherin, the Hat wouldn't have put him there."
"And the only reason Percy didn't want to go into Slytherin was because he was scared."
"I'd be scared to go into Slytherin too!" Ron muttered, and Ginny cut over him.
"He was scared, Ron, of what Mum and Dad would say. What we would say. So he asked to be put into Gryffindor, where no one understood his ambition, and where he felt almost completely isolated for seven years. Is it any wonder he sided with the Ministry, where he was at least appreciated, when Voldemort returned?"
"But if he'd been put in Slytherin, he'd have ended up being a Death Eater sympathiser, thinking that purebloods were better than Muggleborns!" Ron argued, his ears growing red enough to match his hair.
"That's not necessarily true, Ron," Hermione said quietly as the carriage started to slow down – they were approaching the castle. "Zabini's proof that not all Slytherins are pureblood elitists; their head of house was a Half Blood, after all. Maybe, if Percy had been in Slytherin, less of the Slytherins in his year would have been fighting against us in the war, and more with us."
"Hermione's right," Harry found himself saying, the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach abating as he spoke. "Don't underestimate the influence one person can have on others. I'd never even heard of Slytherin or Gryffindor before I met you on the train," (and Malfoy, in Diagon Alley, Harry's brain supplied helpfully) "But one conversation with you about the Houses and I asked to be put in Gryffindor, even when- when the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."
The carriage had come to a stop but his friends didn't move to get out, and instead stared at Harry, their mouths agape.
"The hat wanted to put you in Slytherin?" Ron asked disbelievingly, and Harry nodded.
Ginny sat back in her seat smugly.
"There, you see? Obviously Slytherin isn't made up of evil berks, if Harry was nearly one!"
"But maybe that was-" and here Ron lowered his voice as the four of them jumped down from the carriage and joined the throng of students making their way up the castle drive to the Entrance Hall doors, which Harry could see were swung wide open, the golden candlelight flickering and guiding them towards the castle. "Maybe Harry was nearly put in Slytherin because he was one of You-Know-Who's… you know. Horcruxes."
Harry was shaking his head even before Ron had finished.
"The Hat said-" and he blushed, remembering Hermione's description of his 'hero complex'. "It said that I wanted to... I don't know, prove myself, or something."
Hermione snorted and grinned.
"Well, I think we can safely say you can tick that box, Harry. No, don't look embarrassed, it's okay – I know exactly what you mean. I think Muggleborns, or in your case, Muggle raised, often think that all this," she gestured to the castle looming up in front of them, "is too good to be true. Remember what I was like the first few months here? Always answering every question? I was trying to prove myself as well."
"What do you mean, 'first few months'?" Ron snickered, and Hermione elbowed him in the side, smirking as the gangly redhead yelped in mock pain.
Harry and Ginny laughed as the two sniped at each other, Ron putting on a ridiculously high-pitched voice and jumping up and down with his hand in the air as he squeaked 'Professor, Professor!' in a genuinely terrible imitation of Hermione. The bookworm was rolling her eyes, though Harry could see the twitch in her cheek that meant she was doing her best not to smile at Ron's antics, the evening around them darkening as they walked under the shadow of Hogwarts.
Harry looked away from his friends teasing and gazed up at the castle he had considered home for so many years, and sighed. Though there had been plenty of reconstruction in the months since the final battle back in May, Hogwarts still bore signs of the conflict. Here and there a turret was missing, a wall crumbled, a scorch mark from a wayward curse marred the ancient stone. There was still so much to do – Harry could only hope that the inside of the castle had fared better, though he had his doubts.
His spirits rose slightly as they ambled into the Entrance Hall – clearly a lot of work had been focussed on the main halls of the school, as there was hardly any sign of destruction here. All the students were making their way towards the Great Hall, the murmur of conversation following the children as they strode through the castle. As they entered the Great Hall, Harry paused alongside Ron and Hermione, surprised. Instead of the usual four long tables running length ways up the room, there were instead eight smaller (though still fairly long) tables running along the Hall, four at the front and four at the back. In the centre of each table, was a number – one through to eight.
"What the hell has McGonagall done to the place?" Ron asked, flabbergasted.
"She's obviously decided to try something new. It looks to be separated by year – come on, I see Neville, let's go grab a seat." Hermione said, leading the boys towards the table to their left. Harry could see Ginny heading over and sitting next to Luna at the table adjacent to their one. The two senior years were at the back of the room, with the first and second year tables at the front.
"What the hell was McGonagall thinking?!" Ron repeated as they sat next to Neville, and a voice on the other side of the broad Gryffindor piped up cheerily.
"I think it's rather brilliant, actually – gives us all a chance to catch up!"
Harry leaned forward and grinned at Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was looking around the room happily, nodding a welcome at every new Eighth year that sat at their table.
"Justin, how are you?"
"Not bad, Harry, not bad! Glad to be back, I must say – it was a wretch not being here last year, I tell you! But my parents decided it was going to be too dangerous; of course being Muggles they didn't really understand the whole war thing. Mother kept trying to explain to me that the only types blood comes in were medical ones!" Justin chuckled and Harry joined him – they might have had their differences in second year, but after the whole Parseltongue, Heir of Slytherin thing had been cleared up, Harry had found himself quite enjoying Justin's chats. He was a bit pompous at times, but he was a good bloke, and his cheery disposition – though occasionally grating – was currently exactly what the quiet table needed to get conversation started.
The Eighth year table chatted for a few minutes as the last of the students trickled in and took their newly arranged seats. Harry had just noticed the three students wearing green down the far end of the table. It seemed Millicent Bulstrode was the only other Slytherin joining Malfoy and Zabini this year. She and Zabini were talking quietly, every so often sneaking a glance at Malfoy, who was staring down at his hands, which were resting on the table. Harry's attention was drawn away from the three snakes by a clear ringing sound through the room, and the students turned as one to see Professor McGonagall standing before them at the dais.
"Hush now please – the first years are about to arrive."
Everyone fell quiet, and McGonagall was proved correct as the doors to the Great Hall swung open, and a line of terrified looking first years came shuffling in. They were following what looked to be a floating hat, and Harry realised after a second it was actually Professor Flitwick – he just couldn't see the rest of the short man because his fellow students were in the way.
The line of new pupils walked through the centre of the room, and Hermione nudged Harry in the side. "Were we that small? I don't believe we were that small. They're so little!"
Harry had to agree with her – he remembered his own sorting, and the way the Sorting Hat fell over his ears and almost hid his face. Harry was sure if he tried it on now, it would likely just sit there on top of his head, and murmur incorrigible things in his ear.
And speaking of the Sorting Hat – Harry did his best to lean around Ron and get a good look, but he couldn't see for the other tables. After a few seconds, the familiar, sly voice began to sing.
On top of your heads
Is where I will go
To see where you best belong.
But before we begin
There is more you must know
So attend to this, my song.
Once there were four friends
Whose goal was great indeed
A school of enchantment they did plan
To teach magic, was their creed.
Gallant Gryffindor, who sought the brave
Kind Hufflepuff took the Just
The most cunning went to Slytherin
And for wise Ravenclaw, wit was a must.
But their vision was clouded
Their bonds torn by pride
And though they four are gone
That old rift still remains wide
So you might have survived
Through loss and the dark
But I'm afraid it'll be for nought
If you my words you do not hark;
Don't repeat your errors
While still the castle holds
Begin anew and fairer
Mend the bonds of old.
So enjoy the dawning sun
the darkest storm seems past
But there's healing to be done
if Hogwarts is to last.
Harry clapped along with the other students – the Hat's meaning seemed obvious enough this year, and the applause seemed more subdued than usual. 'I wonder what the song was like last year', Harry thought, shooting a look at Neville, whose hazel eyes were solemn and contemplative as he watched the first student (a 'Rachel Addams', according to Flitwick's characteristic squeak) be called up to be sorted.
The little girl bounced nervously on the stool, the Sorting Hat sunk down on her head so far that it nearly covered her freckled nose. After a few moments, the Hat shouted out "Gryffindor!" and Harry and the other Gryffindors shouted their approval as Addams went and sat all by herself at the table marked with a number '1'.
Harry frowned at the disjointed cheers spread across the room – he wasn't entirely sold on this new seating arrangement – and sat up straighter to get a better look at the newest Gryffindor. Harry could see her wide eyes all the way from the back of the Hall, but the tiny blonde raised her pointed chin mulishly and waited for the next first year ('Nicolas Abbington', Ravenclaw) to join her. Harry grinned at her stubborn expression and watched as, slowly, the line of first years dwindled down until the very last student was sorted.
There was a few moments chatter as Flitwick charmed the stool the Sorting Hat sat on to float out ahead of him as he guided it through the door behind the staff table. The talk quieted almost immediately as Professor – Headmistress, Harry corrected himself – McGonagall stood once again at the podium.
"To our new students, welcome to Hogwarts. To our old – welcome back. I won't keep you long, I know you must be hungry – but before we begin the feast, I wanted to say a few words. This school year will be unlike any Hogwarts has experienced before. Not only do we have Eighth years, for the first time," and she gestured to the back of the room where Harry and the other senior students sat, "But we also have the opportunity for many other firsts. Past students will have noted the new layout of the Great Hall – this year, and perhaps in following years, you will no longer sit divided by your Houses. Instead, students will sit among their year mates. If you would like to discuss something with an older or younger student, then you may do so after the main course of each meal, when mingling will be allowed – encouraged, even." McGonagall added with a prim smile. Harry thought she was doing a stellar job of ignoring the muttering that had risen up as she spoke, not to mention the occasional glare – a few even coming from the staff table behind her.
"Now – as you may have noticed upon your arrival, there are still areas of the Castle that are badly damaged. Since May there has been extensive construction throughout Hogwarts, though not everything has been completed or even, in some cases, begun. For your safety, there are certain areas are out of bounds unless you are either accompanied by a staff member or given written permission – these areas are marked off in obvious ways. Anyone found meddling with the markers or ignoring them will receive detention and lose house points." She looked austerely over her glasses at the students before her, before continuing. "After dinner, Prefects will lead First years to their dormitories. Eighth Years, you will stay behind. Remember, class timetables will be handed out at breakfast, so no sleeping in, if you please." McGonagall gave the room a stern once over, and any student who had been considering a lie in the next morning quickly rethought that decision.
"Thank you for your patience, I won't keep you from your supper any longer. Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone!"
As the tables filled with dishes upon dishes of food, a weight Harry hadn't known he was carrying seemed to lift from his shoulders. As he filled his plate with pork chops and roast potatoes, he couldn't help but smile - it was good to be home.