Chapter Two
THE UNEXPECTED GUEST

DISCLAIMER: All characters are the property of J. K. Rowling. I do not own any of this material, except the plot line, of course.

A witch with snarled, unbrushed, black hair and a crooked nose stood outside Eeylop's Owl Emporium, brandishing a large box. Before long, a young woman with silky red hair skipped by.

"Would you like a time turner, my sweet? They're only two galleons."

"Ooh, yes please! I haven't been able to get my hands on one of those since we smashed the supply at the Ministry." She pulled two fat, gold coins from the pocket of her jeans.

Just as they were about to exchange items, Harry bolted down Diagon Alley as fast as he could. "NO, GINNY! DON'T TOUCH IT!" But it was too late. Too late to even say goodbye.

******

Harry awoke in a vicious sweat, his eyes stinging and filled with tears. Every night for the past five months, he had relived the same anguish, the same agonising memory. Ginny was gone, and it was entirely his fault. How could he let her wander around Diagon Alley on her own, with her innocent mind? As for that stupid woman, selling cursed time turners. 'May she rot in hell,' Harry thought.

After a cool shower and a spot of breakfast, Harry returned to his room. His tawny owl was tapping at his window. Harry had named his new owl Elphick, which he had found, like Hedwig, in A History of Magic. Elphick was clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry didn't know why he bothered to subscribe. There wasn't any real news any more – no disappearances, no mysterious deaths, no mass breakouts from Azkaban – only 124 pages of fillers, courtesy of the scandalous Rita Skeeter. Harry took the paper from the owl, and unravelled it. His eyes pored over the front page, but then he saw something that caused him to do a double take. The date in the corner indicated that today was the 31st of August. He would be off to Hogwarts tomorrow.

At least that gave him something to do. Instead of sitting around the house, drinking coffee, bored out of his wits, Harry could pack his trunk. It was then that he realised how little he knew about teaching. What kind of things should he pack? Was he supposed to have lessons planned already? He decided that he needed a trip to Diagon Alley; he would just pick up anything and everything that he found fitting.

******

Some tedious hours later, Harry Potter found himself, once again, aboard the Hogwarts Express, in an empty compartment. He hauled his trunk up into the luggage rack. It was rather heavy. Harry had managed to cram in at least twenty books from Flourish and Blotts, and had packed the shard of Sirius' mirror and his dad's old invisibility cloak for good measure, as well as his necessities. His heart twittered – this scarlet steam engine would take him to Hogwarts, his home in a matter of hours. Harry was withdrawn from his train of thought when the compartment door shot open.

"Harry!" piped an all-too-familiar voice.

"Neville? What are you doing here?" Neville Longbottom still sported some permanent scars from the Carrows' vile punishments, but he didn't look half as bad as when Harry had last seen him.

"I'm the Herbology professor. My gran doesn't like it; she thinks Herbology is a soft option – she thinks everything's a soft option, really – but I think it's fantastic! This year, I'm going to be working with mandrakes, shrivelfigs, puffapods, bubotubers –"

"– That's great, Neville. Um, listen, you get comfortable in here, and I'll go see if I can find the trolley."

******

Harry had been having a rather enjoyable time on the Hogwarts Express, talking to Neville and nibbling at some Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, when the compartment door slid open for a second time. A young girl in Hufflepuff robes stood dumbfounded in the doorway, staring at Harry's face. Harry cocked his head to the side, causing the girl to snap out of her trance. She then handed two small scrolls of parchment to both Harry and Neville.

"Oh no." Harry muttered after reading the message. "Professor Slughorn must've gotten wind that we're on the train. I was hoping he'd forgotten about us." He glanced down at the fat scrawl covering the parchment.

Harry, m'boy,

It would be delightful if you could come down to compartment C for lunch. It seems like forever since we last met. I would love to catch up and introduce you to some fascinating people.

Professor H. Slughorn

Neville nodded. "I suppose we should go, then."

The two got up reluctantly – partially annoyed and partially nervous – about the remainder of the trip.

******

"Alas, Harry, m'boy." chortled a rather portly man. The only acknowledgement he gave Neville was a slight nod. "Sit down, sit down." he urged, shuffling in his seat.

"What brings you here Harry? Coming back to finish your NEWTs? Of course, with your potions expertise, I daresay you'll need the extra study. And Nelson, is it? I thought you completed your schooling last year?"

"Actually, Professor," Harry began, "We're teachers,"

"Oho. Oho! Is that so? If it isn't Potions, then, what do you teach?"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, sir."

"Oho. Of course. What, with all that fighting against the Dark Lord, I suppose. I still say you'd make a dab-hand Potions professor. Perhaps when I retire. What about you, Nelson?"

"It's Neville." He corrected. "I'm teaching Herbology."

"Hmm. Well, let me introduce you to some people."

Harry and Neville sat silently for the next forty-five minutes, nibbling at some pheasant sandwiches. They listened to Professor Slughorn boast about Marietta Jones, Gwenog's niece; Alfred Bode, Broderick's son; and about ten others whose names Harry could not remember.

******

When the Hogwarts Express finally lurched to a halt, Harry and Neville sprung off the train and pushed to the front of the crowd. The traditional thestral-drawn carriages awaited the students. This time, however, Neville could see the thestrals too.

The two new professors spent much time debating over whether they should take the carriages to the castle, or whether the transportation was intended for students only. In the end, they jumped aboard a carriage, and hoped that none of the students would miss out due to their decision.

The Great Hall looked ten times brighter and more elegant than it had in previous years. Of course, nothing had changed, except the atmosphere, which had optimised exponentially since the downfall of the Dark Lord.

The sorting took place, and Harry was delighted to see so many new Gryffindors. As Professor McGonagall was now headmistress, it was Professor Flitwick who brought in the three-legged stool and the Sorting Hat, and led the first years in to be sorted. After the sorting, McGonagall rose from her seat to give the start-of-term announcements. It felt rather foreign to Harry, not hearing Dumbledore's absurd words which nobody could make sense of.

"Welcome, welcome, to another year at Hogwarts. First, and foremost, there have been some staff changes. I would like you to make Professor Longbottom, our new Herbology teacher, welcome." Neville stood slowly. He looked absolutely petrified, but relaxed a little when he was greeted with applause.

"I don't know how many times I have had to say this, but we once again have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." Harry's stomach lurched, remembering the jinx that had been placed on the position. He wondered whether this year would be his last. "I trust you will make Professor Potter most welcome." Cheers, applause and whispers erupted all over the Great Hall as Harry stood and nodded slightly. He hated all this blasted publicity.

"Finally, as most of you will know, Professor Sprout retired at the end of last year, leaving the Head of Hufflepuff House position vacant. It is my pleasure to announce that Rubeus Hagrid will be filling this position." Harry grinned and applauded as hard and fast as he could. He didn't care how stupid he may have looked. Hagrid appeared overwhelmed.

"And now, without further ado, let the feast begin." Mountains of food and songs of chatter filled the merry hall. Harry had forgotten how good it was to be home.

******

Harry was on his way down to the kitchens. His mind was far too alive after the feast, and he decided that a hot chocolate might help him sleep. As Harry was just about to tickle the pear on the portrait to the kitchens, he heard something odd from just down the corridor. KABOOM! Trace amounts of smoke began to trickle into the dungeon corridor in which Harry was standing. Naturally, his curiosity kicked in, and he went to go investigate.

Harry wrenched open the door of Dungeon Five. The smoke was beginning to clear. He managed to make out a portly figure. "Professor! Professor Slughorn! Are you alright?" As the smoke dissipated and Harry's senses returned to normal, he distinguished another figure as well.

A woman with sleek, ebony hair pulled into a tight bun, rosy cheeks, vivid lips and a beautifully curved body stood in shock. She appeared to be about thirty. Harry thought he recognised her from somewhere, but he couldn't identify her.

In an attempt to be polite, Harry cleared his throat. "Sorry, ma'am. I'm Harry. Harry Potter. I don't think I caught your name." He raised his right hand to offer a handshake. To his dismay, she rejected it, and gave a rather stern reply.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall."

[ A/N ] Ooh … the suspense. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. This chapter was very difficult, in that I had to decide what content to include, and what to cut.

Thanks for your support and comments!

By the way, Neville can see the thestrals now because he witnessed Voldemort, and most likely many of the other Death Eaters, die.