Unusually for Harry, he was not looking forward to the end of the holidays. Sure, he wanted to go back to Hogwarts; it was the only place that had ever really felt like home, but he would miss his family. He finally had a family he could miss.
And so it seemed, in direct contradiction to his wishes, that the 30th August approached at breakneck speed. They flew back to England early on the 31st, arriving back at the Burrow by lunchtime, having used a Portkey from the airport. Luckily all of the washing had been done before they packed, so the trunks were just stacked up in the hallway instead of unpacked.
The following morning was only slightly less chaotic than usual, thanks to the fact that everyone was packed. All that was necessary was to add a few last minute bits and to get themselves ready, but with six teenagers, plus Arthur leaving for work and the other adults getting ready to see everyone else off the Burrow was in chaos. Sirius was unable to accompany the group to platform 93/4 for obvious reasons, and instead was leaving for the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix along with Remus. Both of the former Marauders had told Harry to be careful and to keep his head down. They had also insisted that Harry contacted them via the mirror at least once a week in order to keep them up to date on both the goings on at Hogwarts and his wandless magic.
The train journey was rather boring, especially when compared to the summer. Harry had shared a compartment with Ginny and Neville Longbottom, a rather shy boy in Harry's year, due to the fact that Ron and Hermione had to attend the prefects meeting and patrol the corridors.
That had come as something of a surprise. They had known that Hermione would be a Prefect, but Ron's status as one was completely unexpected. It had led to an interesting, if somewhat predictable exchange between the trio after Ron had hesitantly stated that he had to join Hermione at the Prefects meeting.
"You're a prefect?" Harry asked.
"Ron! Why didn't you tell me? I was wondering who got it! It going to be great!"
"It's humiliating!" Ron groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Fred and George aren't going to let this go."
"Ron! Being a prefect is an honour! You're setting an example for the lower years!" Hermione cried, horrified that Ron didn't like being a prefect.
Harry smothered a grin at his friend's outrage. Despite everything that had happened Hermione still placed the utmost importance in rules and authority figures. And so they left Harry sitting in the compartment while they moved towards the front of the train, still bickering as usual.
Unusually, the highlight of the journey was Draco Malfoy's visit. The three Gryffindors had been looking at Neville's birthday present from his Great Uncle Algie, a cactus like plant that was covered in boils instead of spines and pulsated slightly. Everyone knew of Neville's love of herbology, so his enthusiasm for the rare plant was understandable.
"What is it?" Ginny asked, peering at the small, grey cactus.
"Mimbulus Mimbletonia. I'm not sure if Professor Sprout has one, but I'm hoping she could help me grow some cuttings. Though it might not work as it's not a native plant," the shy boy explained enthusiastically, in his element.
"That makes it even more likely that you'll kill it. After all, it can't escape like the toad can," a drawling voice intruded from the doorway.
The Prince of Slytherin stood there, his habitual sneer firmly in place. Not giving anyone a chance to react he plucked the plant out of Neville's hands, inspecting it quickly before turning his attention back to his year mates, clearly unimpressed by the rare specimen.
"You want to be careful Longbottom. Potter's opposing the Dark Lord by killing off purebloods. Diggory was first. I wouldn't want you to be next," Malfoy taunted, paying no attention to the plant he now held. He was also unaware of the motion of the train, and was therefore caught off guard when it changed tracks, giving the passengers a jolt.
Unfortunately for Draco Malfoy the Mimbulus Mimbletonia took offence to this, covering Draco and his entourage in Stinksap, a dark green, viscous fluid that smelled similar to rancid manure. Everyone in the compartment did a collective blink, taking in the situation before reacting. Malfoy forced the plant into Neville's hands before turning and storming out with as much dignity as he could muster, while Neville and Harry exchanged a look before falling about laughing.
They had calmed down 20 minutes later when Ginny joined them and the three ended up playing Exploding Snap for most of the journey, with Ron and Hermione occasionally joining in between patrols.
All of them were relieved when they arrived at the station in Hogsmeade. They were famished and the train ride seemed to take longer every year. They made their way off the train, becoming separated in the crowds. Harry took in the familiar sights of Hogsmeade as he made his way across the bustling platform. Catching a glimpse of Hermione's bushy hair he hurried towards her. It was when they were separated by only a few people that Harry realised what was different about the station.
There was no Hagrid. No deep calls for the first years, so he could take them across the lake. No lantern swinging above everyone's heads. Instead it was Professor Grubbly-Plank who was ushering small first years down the path towards the boats.
Harry felt worry shoot through him. He had met Professor Grubbly-Plank last year when Hagrid had nearly resigned because everyone had found out that he was a half giant. But he couldn't have left! Hagrid loved Hogwarts and Dumbledore wouldn't have let him leave, that had been clear last year.
'He's probably just ill, or dealing with a problem in the forest,' Harry thought, trying to keep himself calm. 'Someone would have told us if something had happened.'
Due to his preoccupation he didn't notice the creatures in front of the previously horseless carriages until he was walking right by one. The animals looked like they shared the same bone structure with a horse, but that was about as far as that resemblance went. There was very little flesh to them; instead their gleaming black coats were stretched over their bones. The solid white eyes were set in a head that strongly reminded Harry of the Hungarian Horntail dragon he had met last year. The large leather wings only served to reinforce this resemblance.
The mass of students surrounding him prevented Harry from getting a better look at the grotesquely fascinating creatures, so he had no choice but to reluctantly clime into the carriage he had seen Ron enter. When neither Ron nor Hermione mentioned the new additions to the carriages Harry decided to bring up the topic himself.
"What are the things pulling the carriages? And why? I mean, they go fine without them," he said, glancing between his two friends, confident that one of them would know what he was talking about.
"What do you mean? Ron replied, confused. "The carriages are enchanted, there's nothing pulling them." His tone of voice implied that the answer was obvious and had Harry hit his head recently?
"Ron's right Harry," Hermione added. "If it was anything else it would be in Hogwarts: A History."
"Besides mate, if there was something there then we'd have seen them already."
"Right," Harry agreed, wishing he'd ever brought up the issue. "It must have been a shadow or something." He moved the conversation on, the three of them speculating on why Hagrid was absent from the station, while Harry resolved to ask Moony about the creature he'd seen.
Hagrid's disappearance was discussed in more detail once they were seated in the Great Hall, where it became obvious that Hagrid wasn't just tied up with something.
"Do you think he's been fired?" Ron asked tactlessly.
"Nah. We'd have heard. And even if he wasn't a professor he'd still have been at the station. It's part of his groundskeeper duties. And someone would have told us if he was hurt," Harry rationalised. "Who's the woman?"
This was a rather polite description of the toad-like woman seated at the High Table with a fluffy pink cardigan over her robes.
"She has to be the new Defence professor," Hermione replied logically.
"Doesn't look like much," Ron commented. "I bet she's another Lockheart."
"Useless or self-obsessed?" Harry asked with a grin.
"Useless. I bet she teaches us nothing useful this year."
"You're on. I bet she has some connection with Voldemort," Harry agreed, ignoring the flinches.
"You in Neville?" Ron asked.
"Um… connected with the Ministry."
"A bar of Honeydukes finest?" Ron checked, this being their usual prize.
Harry nodded, turning his attention to the terrified first years being led into the Great Hall by Professor McGonagall.
A hush settled over the school as the tattered Hat was brought in and placed in full view of the whole school. Everyone waited for a moment, staring at the Sorting Hat until, with a twitch, a rip near the brim opened and the hat started to sing.
In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
'Together we will build and teach!'
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might some day be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest.'
Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest.'
Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name,'
Said Hufflepuff, ' I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same.'
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A house in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gyffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the houses and their founder
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with duelling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfil my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether Sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you …
Let the Sorting now begin.
After the Hat had fallen silent the students broke into applause while exchanging curious looks. What were the warnings for? Why now?
Ron opened his mouth to ask Hermione but closed it again at her glare, knowing she wanted to watch the sorting uninterrupted. After what seemed like hours the final student, Rose Zeller, was sorted and Dumbledore stood to address the school.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Announcements must be made, but I am sure they will be better received on full stomachs! Tuck in!"
With the final two words the tables became heavily laden and students rushed to fill their plates, the noise level in the Hall rising as friends chattered excitedly about their summers.
"Have you ever heard anything about the Hat giving warnings?" Harry asked Hermione, trying desperately not to look at Ron who was consuming everything in sight with all the grace and manners of a hippogriff.
"The Hat has given several warnings over the years," Nearly Headless Nick replied, having overheard Harry's question. "Always when it feels that the school is under threat. Its advice is always the same. Stand together and put differences aside."
"That makes sense," Hermione mused out loud. "Strength in numbers and all that."
"I suppose," Harry agreed reluctantly, before moving on. "But how does the Hat know when there's a threat?"
"How should I know?" Nick asked before moving down the table, repulsed by Ron's eating habits.
"I guess it must hear things in Dumbledore's office," Harry suggested before shrugging and turning his attention to the feast in front of him.
He had just finished his second helping of treacle tart when Dumbledore once again stood, causing the plates to clear and everyone's attention to fix on the headmaster.
"Now that we have all had our fill, there are a few start of term notices," he started. "First years ought to know that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all 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 two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magucal Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause, during which Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged slightly panicked looks at the realisation that no mention had been made about how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching.
Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the house Quiddich teams will take place on the-"
He broke of and looked towards Professor Umbridge. The whole school followed his lead, wondering why he had stopped. It was only after she cleared her throat (hem, hem) that the students realised that she had stood up intending to make a speech. Professor Dumbledore managed to conceal his surprise after a few moments and promptly sat down looking attentively at Professor Umbridge. The other Professors were not as adept at hiding their shock. Snape was glaring at her with the kind of loathing he usually reserved for Harry and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it. Not that it was surprising. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before.
"Thank you Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "For those kind words of welcome."
Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and a little girlish and Harry felt an inexplicable rush of dislike. He realised that he loathed everything about her from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan.
"Hem hem. Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say," she continued, smiling. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"
Harry glanced around. None of the faces he could see looked happy. On the contrary, they all looked rather taken-aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.
"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"
Students exchanged a look at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.
When Professor Umbridge continued, (hem, hem) her voice had taken on a much more businesslike tone, the words flowing as though recited from a script.
"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to br of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed with careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lost them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."
Here she stopped momentarily to give a small bow to her colleagues, none of whom bowed back.
"Hem, hem. Every Headmaster and Headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance then between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…"
Harry tuned out as the longwinded monotone continued. He was beginning to get an inkling about where the Defense Professor was going with this and was starting to become concerned. As he glanced around the Hall he noticed that most of the students had given up paying attention and had returned to their own conversations, not noticing anything amiss. Other were making the effort to look interested but the glazed over look in their eye's gave them away. In fact, besides the staff, the only one Harry could see who was actually listening attentively was Hermione, who did not appear to agree with Professor Umbridge.
"… because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
Umbridge sat down promptly, the sudden silence caused by the mass realisation that the speech was over only broken by the applause from the staff table, where most of the Professors only clapped once or twice before stopping. Dumbledore once again stood.
"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge. That was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now, as I was saying, Quiddich tryouts will be held …"
"It certainly was illuminating," said Hermione in a low voice.
"You actually enjoyed that waffle?" Ron said quietly, though his tone carried the full weight of his incredulity. "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard and I grew up with Percy."
"I said illuminating, not enjoyable. And there was important stuff hidden in the waffle," Hermione explained grimly.
Harry stayed silent, agreeing with Hermione but reluctant to say what he was thinking.
"Such as?" asked Ron blankly.
"How about 'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? How about 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'?"
"Well, what does that mean?"
"It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."