A/N: Sorry for not updating for ages - I was in hospital unexpectedly. I did, however, manage to plan the whole of this story, so I'll be updating with more, longer chapters, like this one. Hope you like it!
It was a strange experience, watching everybody below eating their fill at the house tables. Harry could see Ron stuffing his face eagerly with chicken drumsticks while Hermione and Ginny battered him from both sides in disgust. The new first years, in between shovelling down mouthfuls of food, were staring up at him in awe. Looking over towards the Slytherin table, he saw that it was very empty. Each of the older Slytherin students sat on their own, either wholly occupied with eating or staring at their plates, and the first and second years grouped together, making no contact outside of their group.
"Harry," said McGonagall, leaning over towards him, "it is common practice that the Professors retire to the staff room for a short briefing after the feast. This is especially important for you, considering your situation. Would you join us?"
"Of course," agreed Harry. "May I also bring Hermione?"
"Indeed you may. Why not any of the others?"
"Well, I think the others would rather go straight to bed," explained Harry, "and in any case, she can explain it to me if it all gets too complicated. I'm feeling rather tired, so I might need her there."
"Ah yes. It will be quite complicated." Professor McGonagall returned to her food, where she began to carve up her chicken. Hagrid was making slobbering noises to his right as he ate whole chickens only just faster than Ron.
As dessert came, Harry realised the benefits of being on the staff table. He didn't have to reach through the mountains of ice cream and profiteroles to grab a slice of treacle tart. The golden plates around him filled with just the desserts he wanted, and so most of them were filled with a deliciously sticky treacle tart.
"The elves have excelled themselves once again," commented Harry. He yawned widely and stretched, brushing Hagrid as he did so.
"Ar, yer right there,Harry,"the half giant agreed. "Darn, there goes another feast." The food had disappeared and Ron had dropped his head onto the table below in horror. Professor McGonagall, wincing at Hermione's following slap, rose from her seat and addressed the entirety of the cavernous Great Hall.
"After another marvellous feast, I bid you all goodnight. I know you all want to wake up nice and refreshed for tomorrow's lessons. If Professor Granger could stay behind and the prefects could lead the first years to their respective common rooms, I'd just luck to wish a final good luck for the year ahead."There was the usual deafening scraping of benches as a sea of black rose from the tables like a flock of bats suddenly woken up. Hermione fought her way through a gaggle of third years and walked up to the staff table.
"Ah, thank you Miss Granger. Would you care to join us in the staff room?" Hermione beamed her acceptance, and the teachers trailed off, led by McGonagall. As they approached the gargoyles in the entrance hall, McGonagall called "Viridian" and they immediately sprang aside, allowing the entire column of Professors to enter the now familiar, panelled room without breaking step.
"Filius, Pomona and Horace," called McGonagall, "I'd like to talk to you first with Harry and Hermione." She pulled them away to the other end of the room while the other Professors began murmuring with interest. "The situation with Defence Against the Dark Arts, particularly Harry here, means that the Defence Professors will often be needed to teach at the same time as having lessons with you. Would you three be willing to repeat some of your lessons outside the normal timetable?"
"Of course," agreed Slughorn vehemently, "though I doubt any of them would need it." Professors Sprout and Flitwick also murmured their agreement.
"Good!" exclaimed McGonagall, beaming and turning back to Harry and Hermione. "Now, I must tell you that you will have more than one class, usually, at the same time. If only one of you is teaching, start off the less teacher-intensive class. My final pointer for you two, and for the others, is to call the other Professors by their first names. It helps cohesion. Of course, we're still your Professors in your classes. But anyway, let's get back to the others."
"I can teach you their names if you need it," offered Hermione.
"My fellow Professors," began McGonagall, addressing the room at large, "let's make this year a very good year. We can't let the tragedies of last year affect us. The castle is rebuilt, so let's rebuild our reputation and continue building on the education of the students. This year's timetable will consist of five lessons per day; two in the morning and, according to Septima, that leaves three in the afternoon." The teachers chuckled at this rare show of jollity.
"Most classes, if not all, will be shared classes between two houses, but this year we will have full-year classes. This is instead of having two of the same classes at once. June, I'll talk to you about Head of House duties later. Harry, would you consent to being the eighth year representative?"
"What's that?" he asked, puzzled.
"Oh yes, we forgot to tell you. Everybody retaking their NEWT year is now called an eighth year. There are no houses in the eighth year, so we're building a makeshift fifth hourglass for eighth year points. Don't worry," she added, seeing Harry's questioning but panicked look, "we'll make it fair. Also, the eighth year now has their own common room which we signposted for tonight. Everyone teaching Defence has an office and bedroom just off the common room, which we have to provide as part of your contract. There's no use protesting, Harry."
"Ok," agreed Harry, "I accept." He let out a huge yawn.
"I can see you're tired, Harry," said McGonagall. "You go off to bed and I'll tell Hermione what you'll have to do. You've got a lot ahead of you this year." Harry looked at the Professors one last time with bleary eyes, and waved goodnight to them. Professors Sprout, Flitwick, Vector, Sinistra and Bell all waved back as he turned and headed out of the staff room.
On the opposite wall, just to the left of the staircase, there was a sparkling sign pointing the way upstairs to the eighth year common room. He stumbled up the marble staircase and followed the signs up four more flights of stairs, barely aware of where he was going. The final sign was slightly different, so Harry was shaken from his reverie just long enough for him to notice that it was a wooden sign sticking in a patch of swampland. Slightly puzzled, Harry pushed open the door to the eighth year common room.
"Welcome Harry Potter, eighth year representative. There is currently no password to this door. What would you like the password to be?" Too sleepy to wonder where the voice was coming from, he mumbled "Dumbledore" before sloping off to his room, falling asleep fully clothed before his head hit the pillow.
Harry sat bolt upright, yelling. At least he would have, were it not for a small redhead wrapped around his torso.
"Sorry Harry," mumbled Ginny, looking up from his chest. "I only came in to say good morning..."
"Seriously, Ginny, that's creepy," said Ron. Both Harry and Ginny jumped noticeably as their heads snapped towards the now filled doorway. "I mean, come on, you barely know each other!"
"What do you mean?" asked Harry, suddenly annoyed at his best friend's appearance. "We know each other very well, thank you!"
"Ok then," retorted Ron, "what's her favourite dessert?"
"Erm, ice cream?" asked Harry desperately. A scowl crossed Ron's face for a fleeting moment.
"Hm. Fine. I still say you know nothing about her."
"Ronald! What are you doing?!" Hermione's voice yelled as she spotted Ron through Harry's office.
"Your utter prat of a boyfriend here doesn't want me to say good morning to mine!" yelled Ginny "He claims we know nothing about each other!"
"Leave them alone, Ron!" growled Hermione, dragging him out of the room and looking extraordinarily like his mother. "They know each other perfectly well. And tell me," she added as their voices began to fade into the background hubbub, "what's my favourite dessert?" Neither Harry nor Ginny heard Ron answer.
"What's up with him?" asked Harry.
"Oh, just Ron being a hypocrite again. He thinks that because he and Hermione spent the whole of last year getting to know each other so well that he can suddenly disapprove of us again. When will he learn that he doesn't control what I do?" She began to get up. "When I get my hands on him..."
"Calm down. I'll talk to him later. Just leave it to me." Ginny agreed, and left him to get changed after a quick hug. As he pulled on his robes, he looked around the room he was in. It was quite basic, furnished with a wardrobe, a small armchair and the bed he'd been sleeping in. The bed was warm and soft and covered in red sheets which were adorned with the roaring head of a lion.
Harry emerged into a small crowd gathered around his door. Every face in the room was turned towards him, as though expecting him to say something. He looked blankly back.
"Well what are they?" asked George, scratching at his lone ear.
"What are what?" asked Harry, puzzled.
"The new passwords. There's a sign on the noticeboard saying you're choosing the passwords this year. We usually know next week's password by now."
"Well, what is it now?" Harry had no clue that a password had been set.
"Hermione worked it out last night when she came in. She says you'd set it to 'Dumbledore'."
"Well," replied Harry, rubbing his chin, "I'm going to keep 'Dumbledore' for this week, but change it to 'Griphook' for next week. That should be hard to guess, right?" Placated, the crowd dispersed, chatting amongst themselves. Harry searched for his friends, and found Ginny, Luna and Neville sitting together at a small table in the corner. Luna caught his eye and waved at him.
"Hello, Harry. Did you sleep well?" she asked.
"Yes, thanks," replied Harry, smiling. "Should we all go to breakfast now?"
"That sounds like a plan," called Ron as he ran past.
"We should all sit together to discuss the timetables, remember?" said Hermione as she hurried after him. Harry walked over to the door and held it open for Ginny, who walked out and waited by the swamp for him. Luna followed, with Neville close behind. As Ron and Hermione completed their circuit of the common room, Ron ducked out and ran along the corridor towards the Great Hall, closely pursued by a blur of bushy hair. Chuckling, Harry, Ginny, Luna and Neville followed them at a more leisurely pace.
Harry walked into the Great Hall to find Ron and Hermione sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, arguing over Ron's stack of toast. The four of them settled around the pair, causing them to fall silent immediately. Harry pulled over a few slices of toast and a pair of juicy sausages and began to devour them hungrily. Soon enough, their timetables arrived via the arms of Professor Bell.
"Ahh, our new Defence Professors! How are you this morning?" They informed her that they were indeed happy, refreshed and ready for the year to come. "Oh, good," she replied, beaming at them, her eyes twinkling and crinkling with unadulterated joy. "Now, here are your timetables, and on the other side is the overall timetable of Defence lessons. Is everything ok?" They all scanned their timetables. Hermione's was the fullest of the lot.
"What's this black box, last thing on Friday?" Harry asked. Nobody else seemed to have one.
"Minerva asked me to tell you to poke it with your wand when you want to see it. Oh, and by the way, you and Ginny are going to have to sort out Quidditch captaincy sometime soon. We didn't know who was going to be captain this year."
"I'm sure we can work something out, Professor," said Harry, smiling at Ginny.
"Harry, call me June. Remember what Minerva said?"
"Oh yes. Sorry, June." Harry smiled apologetically at the new Head of Gryffindor, who carried on handing out timetables, this time to a group of fourth years next to them. Harry jabbed the little black square, which melted under the touch of his wand.
"So, what's happening on a Friday afternoon, then?" asked Ron through a mouthful of bacon.
"Auror training."