A Second Chance
By S.L
Chapter Eight: Back to School
After leaving Dumbledore's office, Harry didn't much feel like going to the feast downstairs. The Headmaster had left his stomach in knots, and the thought of food wasn't going over very well in his mind. Besides, the feast would be nearly over anyway, so even if he did head for the Great Hall, he would only manage to make it for the puddings. Instead, Harry headed for Gryffindor Tower.
It was only when he was down the hall from the fat lady that Harry realized that he didn't know the password. Luckily enough a group of what looked like fourth or fifth years just in front of him, so this did not become a problem.
The two girls were giggling, and clinging to one another's arm. One of them pointed at the blond boy ahead and whispered something in her friend's ear.
"Pringles!" One of them called out, and then the group broke down laughing as they climbed through the portrait hole.
Definitely fifth-years, Harry decided. One of their friends had probably become prefect this year and had been allowed to make up the password for the first time. Whenever that happened, without fail, the password was always in inside joke of some kind to the prefect and their friends.
The portrait swung shut behind the group, and Harry made the last few yards to the Fat Lady alone.
"Password?" She said in a bored voice as she examined a tear in her dress.
"Pringles," Harry said.
She looked up and squinted at him. "Now, I don't recognize- ah that's right!" She winked. "Don't worry about being new, you'll be fine, boy. Dumbledore's told me to watch out for you."
The words were meant to be comforting, and Harry was sure that the Fat Lady thought that they were. However, Harry knew that when Dumbledore had told the Fat Lady to 'watch out' for him, he had really meant to keep track of whether or not Harry snuck out, or if anything unusual happened around her. All that would be lost on the Fat Lady, so Harry just nodded thankfully and stepped through the portrait hole.
He had been right, dinner must have been nearly over, because Gryffindor Tower was not yet full of chattering students, contained few groups of chattering students.
Harry turned at the sound of his name; his brother Bran was sitting by the fire in Ron's old favorite chair. There were a few other boys gathered around him- his year-mates, Harry figured. He walked over to join his brother to see what he wanted.
"Harry, these are my mates, Jack, Andrew, and Ritchie. Guys, this is my cousin Harry that I told you about," Bran said as he pointed to each boy in turn.
Something about the statement must have been funny, because Andrew suddenly snorted, and Jack covered up a laugh with a cough.
Feeling like he was missing something, Harry just nodded to the four slowly. "Hello," he said. "It's very nice to meet you."
But just then his eyes slid past the four boys and settled on a hunched over figure in the far corner, well away from the noise at the entrance, and from the glow of the fire in the grate.
"Excuse me," he told them and strolled past.
It was Hermione, bent over a stack of books, all by herself in the dark corner. He was sure it was her, though there was something different about the way she looked that Harry could quite place. Both Hermione and Ron had died during the long war in his world. This time, rather than the flip-flop his stomach usually did when he had been re-introduced to someone close he had known who died, Harry felt unusually calm.
"Hello," Harry said as he approached, though now that he was here he felt a little silly. This Hermione wouldn't know him at all, but he had to make sure they became friends without coming off as a complete creep. "I'm Harry Potter, I've just transferred into your year, I think."
She looked up with a hint of hesitation. She was wearing reading glasses and her hair was pulled back in a frizzy bun. She nodded slowly, placed her quill down, and stuck out one hand. "Hermione Granger, I'm the Head Girl. Headmaster Dumbledore told me to make sure that you were getting along alright."
Harry managed a weak smile. "Yes, I figured he would," he muttered to himself.
"What was that?" Hermione said, removing her reading glasses and giving him an expectant look. "I didn't hear you."
"Oh, it was nothing," Harry spat out quickly. "I was just saying that it was nice to meet you."
Her mouth opened a little, and her eyebrows slanted. "Oh, okay then. Well, let's see then, do you have any questions about anything yet?"
"Er-" Harry's brain scrambled to think of something to ask her that would keep her talking, but nothing was immediately jumping to mind. What kind of questions could he have about something he knew everything about?
"I've taken the liberty," Hermione continued, turning back to her notes and arranging a small pile of scrolls. "Of compiling my notes from the fall term so that you would have some reference for class," she said in an excited voice. "If you look these all over tonight then, hopefully you'll be prepared classes tomorrow without being too far behind." She dripped some sand on the scroll she had been working on, rolled it up and handed it to Harry in the stack with the others.
"Um-" Harry managed before he was interrupted again.
"I'll be your partner in all of our core classes, until you catch up at least," she went on in a formal tone. "Also if you need me at any other time, my room is at the very top of the tower in the Head Rooms."
"What she means is," a voice mocked, just behind Harry's left ear. "She wants you to meet her at midnight tonight for a little rendezvous."
Hermione's serious expression suddenly darkened, though she was blushing furiously. "Go away Weasley, this doesn't have anything to do with you."
None other than Ron Weasley slipped into Harry's field of vision and crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Hermione. "So sorry, Granger. Shall I just wait for you to finish bossing him around then?" He looked at Harry smugly. "Did she tell you that you've got to be her partner in every class because she can't get anyone else to do it?"
In fascinated horror, Harry turned to see Hermione's reaction to this. Her cheeks had suddenly become very puffy, and she looked like she was trying to bite off her bottom lip.
"You're just angry because you couldn't make Head Boy, Weasley," she snapped. Then she turned and started to gather up her things. "Why don't you go and- and," she had turned back to Ron now, her arms full of books. Her eyes looked dangerously watery.
"And what Granger?" Ron said with a mock pout. "Can't you think of anything?"
Instead of answering with words, Hermione made an angry sort of sigh and stomped off up the girl's stairs.
Immediately Ron started laughing, and Harry became aware that there were two other boys standing just behind him, echoing the laugh.
"Ron Weasley," Ron said as he stuck out his hand to Harry.
Harry stared at it in confusion. His brain was still a few minutes behind the present, trying to figure out just what the hell had just happened. That, and his arms were still full of the scrolls that Hermione had forced on him. He set those down on the table gently to buy himself some time, and then took Ron's accepted hand.
"This is Craig Wilson, and that's Seamus Finnegan," he said jerking his head to the two behind him.
Harry just nodded at the two, but didn't bother to spare the thought as to who Craig Wilson was, he would figure that out later. "So did I just miss something or…" his voice trailed off.
Ron snorted and waved a hand. "Nah, not really mate. Granger is a complete wand-in-the-mud, and a real pain."
"She seemed perfectly fine to me," Harry snapped, suddenly defensively, though he felt ridiculous. Imagine defending his best friend to his other best friend, who were in turn, best friends (well and more, but obviously not in this world), it was starting to get very hard to follow.
Seamus stepped forward and knocked the top scroll off the small pile on the table and watched it fall to the floor. "Oh and you enjoy having a weeks worth of homework assigned to you by your housemate on your first night of school then?"
"Um," Harry looked at the scrolls again, trying to think of something nice to say. "She did take the time to make sure I wouldn't be left behind."
Ron's mouth opened, and he looked as if he was concentrating on something very hard. Harry had to resist the urge to tell him not to strain himself.
"Right," Ron said slowly, after a moment. "So you're the new transfer student? McGonagall told us to watch out for you at dinner."
"Where're you transferring from?" The stranger, named Craig asked, slumping down in the chair Hermione had just abandoned.
They had rehearsed Harry's back-story at the Potter cottage on one of his first nights back and Harry's brain scrambled to remember it all. He was playing the part of James' nephew, the son of his estranged brother Jason Potter. He had been traveling with his 'father' across Europe for many years and had been unable to go to a boarding school because of it. Instead he had been trained in day academies and had been home schooled by his father. This was to be his first year at a boarding school and Dumbledore had only accepted him after his father had died and James and Lily had offered to take him in so that Harry could graduate in a real school.
"I'm not really transferring from anywhere I guess," Harry offered. "I mean I used to travel a lot, I never really stayed at one school very long, but I'll be here until the end of the term though."
The three boys exchanged a look, but then seemed to accept that because next Ron smiled and said, "cool."
The next hour or two Harry found himself describing all the places that he had supposedly been on his travels. Luckily enough, during his search for the horcruxes Harry really had done a great deal of traveling, so his descriptions weren't entirely made up. After that the three other boys showed Harry up to their dorm, and they had all called it a night.
Breakfast the next morning was- very strange to say the least. Harry had woken up earlier than any of his dorm mates, since he still had trouble sleeping most nights. So he had been one of the first to arrive in the Great Hall. Automatically, Harry's gaze drifted up to the head table to see who was there.
Both his parents and Dumbledore had not yet arrived, but Severus Snape was sitting in his usual spot with Minerva McGonagall right beside him.
Harry's eyes did a sort of double take at the sight. Both had been alive in his world when he had left, but it had been a very long time since he had seen both sitting together so calmly at the head table. It was sort of strange and gave Harry the sense of stepping back in time, again.
Feeling a little shaken now, Harry made his way to the Gryffindor table and sat down across from Hermione.
"Good morning, Hermione," he told her as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. He was anxious to become friends with her, despite all of Ron's warnings about what a pain she was.
As far as Harry could gather from the other boy's comments last night, Hermione was not at all liked by much of anyone in the school, except teachers. She was top of all her classes, a know-it-all, bossy, and her position as Head Girl just gave her the power to tell everyone what to do.
Though the descriptions did not seem at all ill fitting in Harry's mind, he knew that those were some of the reasons that he had liked her so much in his world. He liked that she was a know-it-all and the top witch of their year. It was what made Hermione, Hermione. He was trying very hard not to hold the matter against Ron, since he very much wanted to be friends with him too. Somehow he had to figure out a way to be close to them both, or even bring them together. The pair had been very much in love in Harry's world and had died together when the time had finally come. If they only had a mutual reason for being in the same room together here maybe they could have that relationship again. At least, Harry was determined to try.
"I wanted to thank you for those scrolls again," Harry said, trying to get her to open up a bit. "They'll be a big help for today."
"You're welcome Harry," Hermione said formally; she was moving her scrambled eggs back and forth across her plate with a fork, trying not to look at him. "Though I'll recind my earlier offer to be your partner. You can partner up with whomever you like."
The back of Harry's neck prickled and he spared a quick glance behind him, Snape was staring at him, Harry gave him a long stare back before turning to Hermione again.
"No, don't do that," Harry said. "I have a feeling that I'll really be needing some help with some of my classes, and you are Head Girl."
Hermione paused mid-bite. "You're sure?"
"Yes, I am," Harry said seriously and grabbed for a piece of toast just as Mare sat down beside him.
"Good morning, Harry," she said shortly, she glanced across the table at Hermione. "Good morning, Hermione," she added.
Harry couldn't tell by the way that Hermione greeted her back if the two were friends, or if they didn't get along, though after a moment he decided that they just weren't usually familiar with one another. Mare was a fourth-year after all, and Hermione was the tenth-year Head Girl, it would be unlikely that the two would spend much time socializing.
"How're you doing this morning, Mare?" Harry asked as his sister reached to make herself a plate.
"Fine, but I have potions first thing this morning," she said bitterly.
Hermione nodded in sympathy. "We have potions for the second morning block."
"Yes, I know," Mare said, sparing Hermione a brief look. "I see you all when we're leaving for History of Magic."
"How is Binn's doing?" Hermione asked.
"Same old, same old," Mare answered. "He's not really the changing type."
Deciding that Harry should be brought into the conversation Hermione turned her gaze on Harry. "Professor Binn's is the History of Magic teacher here, but you won't have him. Most students stop taking his class after their seventh-year."
"Yes, but you took his advanced class didn't you Hermione?" Mare said, in an interested tone.
Harry looked between the two girls, but felt that he shouldn't be too surprised that they seemed to be getting along. They were both complete bookworms in any case; it was only natural that they would have some things in common.
A heavy hand slapped Harry on the back and as another hand clutched Mare's slim shoulder. "Good morning, kids," James said, bending in between the two. "Good morning, Hermione."
"Good morning Professor Potter," Hermione greeted and took a sip of her milk.
Harry turned on the bench so he could see his dad more clearly. "How are you this morning?"
"Good," James admitted. "I just wanted to make sure you got settled in okay and that you found all of your school books."
Harry reached onto the floor and held up his bag that contained all of his new textbooks. He didn't want to tell his Dad that most of the books he had found, he already owned, but from a different world. He figured it would be best to keep to the new books, just in case there were any variations in the texts. He didn't want to be in class talking about a spell that didn't exist here, or something of that nature.
"Alright then," James said and stood up. "The tenth-years have Defense class this afternoon, so I'll see you then, and I'll see you," he pointed to Mare. "Tomorrow morning."
"Right, Professor," Mare agreed and turned her attention back on her breakfast.
When James had left Harry turned back to his sister. "You call him, Professor?" He asked.
"Yeah," Mare said as if this were obvious. "It wouldn't be right to call them Mum and Dad while we are in school; it's not professional. So Dad is Professor Potter and Mum is Ms. Evans."
"Evans?" Harry asked, even though he knew that had been his Mum's name before she had married their Dad.
"Her maiden name," Mare told him and took a bite of her toast.
"Well I'm going to go to the library for a bit this morning," Hermione announced, and set her napkin down on the table announcing the end of her meal. "Harry, we don't have our first class until the second bell; we have Potions with Professor Snape," she jerked her head up to the head table. "He's the one with the black hair next to Ms. Evans." Harry spared a quick glance at Snape who was firmly ignoring both women on either side of him, his Mum didn't look as if she was too pleased with the seating arrangements either. "If you want," Hermione continued, hoisting her book bag over one shoulder. "I'll meet you in the Great Hall so I can show you how to get to Potions class."
Harry gave her what he hoped was a grateful smile. "Yeah, I'd appreciate that."
When the table started filling up with various Gryffindor students Harry decided that it was a good time to go and explore the castle and the grounds a bit more. If his year didn't have class until the second block then he had a good hour and a half to see what changes there were in this Hogwarts in comparison to the one he knew. Also he wanted some private time to collect his thoughts and think over what he had been faced with so far, most of all Dumbledore.
He didn't much feel like going out into the cold, but he wanted to go to the Owlery and see how Hedwig was fitting in, so he decided to head there first.
So far Harry wasn't sure what to think about this new world. Everything seemed to be coming at him so fast, he barely had time to digest anything new. However, he did feel like he had at least a general impression of everyone he had met so far.
James, was unsure of himself, he wanted to be close to Harry, and was becoming so, albeit very slowly. Harry didn't think he wanted to trust that Harry really existed yet, but Harry understood, because he was the same way.
There had been points in Harry life, that after losing so many people you weren't sure relationships were worth it. It had been that way with Ginny, for him. At first Harry had wanted to end their relationship so that she wouldn't get hurt, then after realizing that this was a stupid thing to apply to Ginny Weasley, who was probably a stronger person than him, things had changed. By the time he had realized that, Harry had already lost his best friends, many of his comrades, and had done many things he had not been proud of. After that he had not been able to trust that Ginny still wanted him, still knowing all that he had done. He had already lost so many people, that he thought getting close to Ginny was just setting himself up for losing someone else just a little further down the line. When Ginny and he finally did end up together, what Harry had feared the worse became true. She had died, just as he thought she would if he became involved with her.
Lily was much easier to understand than her husband, as everything with her came down to basic maternal instinct. Harry could tell that when she looked at Harry, she just saw her baby boy, the one that she had lost when she was still a new mother. With Lily, Harry thought that she was just happy he was alive, and was willing to accept him in any form, just so long as he was hers.
Bran and Mare didn't spare much thought for Harry at all, that much was obvious. Neither one of them knew the importance that surrounded Harry, neither one of them knew that Harry was their brother, so he didn't hold anything against him. To them, he was just some intruding cousin, who hadn't been around for any of their lives and probably wouldn't be around for much of the rest of it. To him, he was temporary and they would put up with him as such.
Harry on the other hand, fascinated Sirius. He had been the first to ask all the trivial little questions about Harry, his life, his world and everything that had brought him here. He was a bundle of energy and clearly a very intelligent man once you caught his attention for more than thirty seconds. Harry had little doubt that his relationship with Sirius would ever be strained as it had been in his world. This Sirius had more than enough friends, which Harry's Sirius had lacked, and wouldn't expect too much out of him. Like Remus, Sirius had left the Potter cottage, only after making Harry promise to write to him whenever he could, and the promise to have him over to Grimmauld Place one weekend so they could get to know one another better.
"After all," Sirius had said with a lopsided smile and a jab to Harry's ribs. "You are my godson aren't you?"
Remus, was Remus, and it seemed as if there was very little that was different about the man. He was as understandable and easy to talk to as he had always been. Harry knew that he probably had some very deep thoughts about Harry, but would more than likely keep them to himself unless called out on them. Remus had always been a private sort of person, and Harry expected him to remain that way in this world as well. Except that in this world, this Remus also had a great more deal of confidence. Harry thought this came from having all of his friends around him. In this world Remus wasn't alone; he did have people to talk to. So perhaps it would be jumping to conclusions to think that he was keeping things as bottled up as the Remus Harry had known, would have. Harry would have to watch Remus to see how things developed before he decided how he really thought about things.
Both Ron and Hermione were different in this world. Neither one of them had a Harry to balance their personalities out, or had ever become close with each other. Of course this Ron and Hermione had also lacked having to deal with all the things that being friends with Harry had forced them to in his world.
Without him, they hadn't confronted a troll, hadn't figured out countless mysteries surrounding him, Voldemort, Hogwarts, Snape, and Dumbledore. There had been no secret organizations, no Triwizard Tournaments, no escaped murderers, nor secret dragons. This Hermione and Ron had never been forced to defend their friend against all odds, to stand up against full-grown Death Eaters, or to save one another from countless adventures. So far, he couldn't be entirely sure how this had affected their personalities. In this world they had been forced into the war at an early age, or had learned what it meant to be friends with the 'Chosen One' by fighting for their comrades lives, and eventually their own.
From what he could gather, this Ron and Hermione were perfectly ordinary students. Ron was the popular guy he had always wanted to be, but had never been able to with Harry always in the spotlight. He had Seamus and the newcomer Craig, who Harry still didn't know, as his best friends. He tolerated Neville and Dean, but obviously didn't like them much, and he seemed to be trying to at least make an effort to get along with Harry. He had been smart enough to become a prefect, Harry had learned last night, but not Head Boy, and he was the Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He had a certain confidence that had been lacking from the Ron Harry had been best friends with, and it showed.
Hermione however, was lacking that confidence. Harry imagined that she had spent the past ten years getting made fun of for being smart, and never having a Ron or Harry to cheer her up had taken its toll. She was Head Girl, so she was still very clever, but she had never had to put her mind to the complex situations that it had been forced to face when Harry and her had been friends. She didn't seem to have many friends, and was therefore, very unable to connect with the people Harry had seen her interact with so far. He only hoped that he would be able to draw her out of her seclusion, into some type of friendship before the year was up.
Then there was Dumbledore. The man was the same mystery he had always been. However, Harry had had a good many years to become friends with the old Headmaster over the years, and only hoped that this would help him better understand him in this world. Dumbeldore wasn't the type of man who could change, no matter what world he was in. He was unique and decidedly Dumbledore. If there were any differences in the man, Harry doubted that he would be able to spot them, Dumbledore was just too clever for all of that. He did know that Dumbledore knew more about Harry than he let on. Harry knew that Dumbledore had already recognized something in Harry that he had not wanted him to, but since he wasn't calling Harry out on it yet, Harry didn't see any reason to address it. Perhaps he had realized Harry was more powerful than an ordinary wizard, or more unusual. Whatever it was, he suspected that he had more to do with the war than any usual twenty-year-old would have, and that could be helpful for later on.
Harry didn't want to be completely revealed for being what he was, and fight Voldemort openly with the Order, but he had decided that he wasn't going to stand around. Voldemort was alive in this world, and he intended to find out as much about him as he could. He intended to destroy the horcruxes (provided they were what they had been in his world, which he hoped they were since it would make them easier to find and destroy), and he intended to destroy Voldemort himself. First however, he needed to sit back and see where exactly everyone stood in this war. Was Snape a spy here? Was there an Order of the Phoenix? Were the members the same? Was Dumbledore still its head? Where did his parents fit in? Remus? Sirius? Where did Sirius being an Auror work into it all? Right now there were just too many questions to be answered before Harry could truly start to address what needed to happen. Though he knew that it was going to involve some fancy footwork on his behalf, it was going to be a difficult game to balance on his own, and he knew eventually he would have to bring in someone to help. Depending on where things stood in this world Harry had an idea of whom he would need to address, or if not, who he would have to call from his world to come to this one. There were many people who owed him favors, in his world, and one more so than any other.
Harry was just turning his mind to this prospect when he approached the West Tower, which contained the Owlery. Already he felt the ice cold blast that was always associated with the round room that was open to the outside elements, so Harry pulled his cloak about him tightly and continued inside.
Stepping inside, and looking around, Harry realized that he was not alone and his breath caught in his chest. Right in front of him, tying a letter to the leg of a dark black owl was Ginny Weasley.
She turned as she heard his footsteps behind her and gave him a little sneer. "So you're the new Potter," she said disdainfully, turning back to her owl. "And here I am thinking that there were enough of your lot here already."
Taken aback, Harry swallowed, what did she have against his family? "Sorry?" he asked instead.
Slowly she turned to face him again and gave him a condescending look. "I said," she began very slowly. "That I thought there were enough of your lot here already." This had taken a moment to get everything out as she had annunciated each word carefully.
"No I got that part," Harry said, feeling a little defensive of himself now. "I was just trying to figure out why you were beings so nasty to someone you did even know."
She smiled, but even this managed to look sour on her usually gentle features, and then she pointed to the front of Harry's robes where his Gryffindor crest was sewn on. Harry followed her direction and then looked back at her robes and noticed what he had not seen, or had been ignoring, from before. She was wearing Slytherin colors and had the Slytherin crest on her own robes.
"Ah, I was told about house rivalries," Harry said in a strained voice. How could Ginny possibly be in Slytherin? She was the most loving, caring, decent girl he had ever met in his entire life, and most definitely a Gryffindor through and through, she hated Slytherins. "I just hadn't realized they were so… conclusive."
Her grin twisted and she threw her owl up into the air, who flew away and out the window gracefully.
"Afraid so, Sparky," she quipped, putting her hands on her hips. "You'll get used to it after a day or two. Now why don't you run along to the rest of your Gryffindor friends and do whatever it is you goody lot do."
Amused, more than anything else, Harry shook his head. This was unbelievable. Here was the girl of his dreams, the only person he had ever truly loved and lost, back from death itself, and she was a Slytherin. How the hell was he supposed to scavenge his way through this?
"So automatically, because of the color of my scarf we're enemies?" Harry retorted, now that he was up to speed with the game. There might be a way to salvage this relationship still, if he played his cards right. "You think I'm like the rest of those self centered bothers?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Ginny's delicate features. "You're telling me you're not? I'm afraid the sorting hat doesn't lie, little Potter, you're in Gryffindor for a reason, as I am in Slytherin. I'll forgive you this once though, you are new, and you have a lot to learn."
Harry smiled. "Sorting hat? I'm afraid the Headmaster wouldn't allow me to try it on. My aunt and uncle intervened and asked that I be put in the same house as my cousins, so I would have someone familiar to relate to."
This time Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" She said. "Interesting."
"Is it?" Harry responded, and crossed his own arms against his chest to cover up his pounding heart. He was taking a risk, if Ginny was in Slytherin this changed so much, but how had she ended up there?
"It is," she confirmed, and dropped her hands off her hips so they swung casually at her sides. She looked more gorgeous than ever. "Well," she continued, pursing her lips in a pout. "We'll just have to see about you then won't we, Potter?"
"I suppose so," Harry said, his voice sounding strange even to himself. How was he managing to take this all so calmly, inside he just wanted to scream. You're not a Slytherin! You're little Ginny! My love, my Ginny, you're mine. It only took your dying for me to realize it, but I want you! I love you! It was a strange sort of feeling. Then again, this was a strange sort of situation and he had a strange sort of life, so he should be used to things like this by now.
This time Ginny didn't answer, instead she hoisted a book bag over her shoulder and sauntered past Harry back into the castle, but not before throwing him a long look as she passed.
When she was gone Harry heaved a huge sigh of… of relief, or pain, or confusion, or of whatever it was that was searing through his body right then. He didn't really know what to feel, yet.