Chapter 14

In These Halls, We Will Resist

Despite the surge in enrolment reported in the Daily Prophet, students could not help but notice the extra space in the Hogwarts Express. When Harry arrived, he moved to take his trunk to the loading area, only to be intercepted by several parents of students anxious to shake his hand and thank him for his remarks in the Prophet. They assured him that they supported him all the way. Harry responded politely if somewhat coolly.

"These are the 'cowards hiding in their houses' that Ron mentioned," he thought.

With Hermione's position as Head Girl and Ron remaining a prefect, and given all of the changes and confusion at Hogwarts this term, Harry's best friends could not join him until late in the journey. Harry walked down the aisle of the train, and could not help but notice the heads that turned with each step. In the past Harry had been reviled and mocked by his school mates, but this time the turned faces betrayed admiration, respect, and even fear.

"This is going to be a long year!" he confided to himself.

Eventually he found Luna Lovegood occupying a compartment by herself, so Harry decided to join her. If anyone in the school would not care one iota about Harry's fame, it would be the unique Ravenclaw sixth-year. Harry took a good look at Luna after their greetings, and per her habit, she stared unflinchingly at him. She really was not an unattractive girl, Harry mused, though her choice of attire did not fit Harry's more conservative attitude. She looked every bit the hippy bohemian this day, with a long gypsy-style skirt and lots of beads around her neck (but no butterbeer caps). If Harry had ever heard of the group, he would have said that she belonged at a Grateful Dead concert.

"I read about you in the Prophet," Luna mentioned matter-of-factly, fingering the beads around her neck, "I wish you would have given the interview to the Quibbler." Luna's father, as Harry well knew, owned and edited of the Quibbler, a magazine devoted to the fringes of the magical world.

"It wasn't an interview," Harry defended himself, though Luna did not look the least bit upset, "I was surrounded by a hundred people, and I had to say something. Nothing was planned; it just happened." The young wizard flicked a lock of hair out of his eye, momentarily exposing his scar.

"Yes, that's what I figured," Luna acknowledged, "but my father could have used the interview anyway. Circulation's been down over the summer." She pulled several strands of her blond hair from her neck. Harry noticed that her hair had grown a few inches since he last saw her. It looked nice.

"Oh, sorry to hear that," Harry sympathized genuinely, as he had a soft spot in his heart for the Quibbler for agreeing to publish his interview in fifth year when he was a pariah in the magical world, not the "hero" that he had become.

"I hear that Ginny and you are no longer going together," Luna commented, unconcerned as to whether Harry might not want to discuss such a sensitive topic. But for some reason, Harry felt he could discuss certain matters with Luna that he would not with others. Luna always had a unique perspective on things which Harry found helpful.

"Yeah, that's right. How did you find out?" Harry inquired.

"Harry, you should know that word about things like that travels like wildfire. Everyone knew about it within a day of Dumbledore's funeral. I thought you might get together again over the summer. I'm sure Ginny wanted to." Luna explained. She had been fiddling around with various items from her bag, but now Luna set everything aside and stared intently at the young man in front of her.

"You're right, she did want to, but I really can't be with anyone right now," Harry replied, trying to choose his words carefully, "My life is kind of complicated right now."

Luna nodded in understanding, "I'm sure it is, having to kill You Know Who and all. It must be a terrible burden."

Harry's eyes betrayed his complete shock from Luna's statement, and for several moments his brain ceased functioning. Finally he managed to put words to a question.

"Why do you say that?" He knew Luna did not know the prophecy, and she certainly was not the type of person to believe the hype printed in the Daily Prophet.

"Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it. You Know Who wants you dead and hasn't had any luck yet." Luna spoke with such dispassion that Harry almost felt that she was referring to another person, not himself. "He must have a good reason for wanting to kill you. I guessing that the prophecy that broke in the Department of Mysteries was about that somehow. The Ministry may have a copy of it. It's probably being suppressed. Maybe you could take legal action to learn what it says. You have the right, you know, to hear any prophecy about yourself, now that you are of age." Luna shifted slightly in her seat, adjusting the beads around her neck.

Harry sat dumbfounded at how Luna's logic, while unfathomable, essentially landed right on the mark. Still, he could not just come out and confirm her educated guessing. Instead he decided to change the subject.

"Well, Voldemort being after me is one of the complicating factors, that's true. But there's a lot of other stuff too. Like not being able to go anywhere without being mobbed by a bunch of witches."

Luna nodded sympathetically, as if she faced the same problem. Of course for Luna the opposite was true; most people tried to avoid her.

"That must be very irritating," she surmised, "but I'm afraid you may not find Hogwarts much of a relief."

"Why is that?"

"I know that many of the girls are quite taken with you, Harry, and now that you are not with Ginny, well, you could say it's open season." Luna looked out the window while saying this, gazing at the rolling fields of northern England, where black and white cattle grazed without a care in the world.

Harry pursed his lips and considered Luna's remark, but he did not feel too worried.

"I kind of went through that last year. It will all pass over after a while."

"Maybe, but I happen to know that there are a lot of girls who are very fond of you. I must admit that I'm quite fond of you too. Why wouldn't I be?" Luna asked, apparently finding nothing unusual about describing her heretofore unknown feelings for a boy with the very boy in question.

Harry flinched slightly, not sure he heard her correctly, but Luna continued without hesitation, "You have always been quite nice to me, unlike most boys, for whom I am a bit too unusual. Add to that the fact that you are tall, dark and handsome, and that you have an interesting history, why wouldn't I like you?"

How does a person respond to something so bizarre? Harry liked Luna quite a lot, but certainly not in a romantic sense. In most respects, Harry was not an eccentric person, in fact quite the opposite. But opposite him in the compartment, declaring her affections for him, sat the most eccentric person he had ever known. He shifted nervously in his seat.

"Uh, that's very nice of you to say, Luna. But like I said, my life is quite complicated right now. I really cannot be thinking about things like that."

"Oh don't worry, Harry, I know that you would never like me in that way. I'm far too odd for you. Despite all the strange things which have happened to you, you really are a very nice, normal, boring person."

Harry gave Luna the widest grin he had given anyone since Dumbledore's death. How could he not enjoy speaking to such a brutally honest person, honest both with others and with herself.

"You're an incredible person, Luna. I'm really glad that I know you. Somehow after I talk to you, I see things more clearly."

While the two friends conversed, Harry vaguely noticed that many students passed by the glass door to their compartment, stopping to ogle him. None of them, fortunately, had the courage to open the door to interrupt. Another group of girls passed by, and from the corner of his eye, Harry noted Ginny's profile. He turned to look, but Ginny apparently had not seen him. Another girl in her group did notice, however, and Ginny stopped to look in as well. Upon seeing Harry, she initially displayed no emotion, but then gave a thin smile and a wave. Relieved that at least she showed no sign of hostility, Harry returned the greeting. Ginny and her pack moved on.

"I knew you two would break up eventually," Luna commented, taking in the scene.

"Really?" Harry asked, "Why is that?" He truly was interested in her opinion on the matter.

"Well, you know that I like Ginny very much. She has always been nice to me, even when others in my year have not. But she is not patient. I think any girl who is going to be your girlfriend will need to have a lot of patience. The same was true of the Chinese girl who liked you before. What was her name?"

"Cho Chang. She was in Ravenclaw too."

"Yes, now I remember. Cried all the time. First after Cedric Diggory died and then about you, though I don't know what happened to cause it. But she was not a patient person," Luna declared with certainty. She had pulled a brush out of her bag for her long hair.

"You're right about that. Cho and I were a disaster," Harry recalled, watching the young witch brush her hair, "Actually I like Ginny a lot, but you're right, she is not patient. She tried to force me to get back together this summer, when she should know that I can't. Not now."

Suddenly, Harry felt much better about how he handled Ginny's August ultimatum. Luna made sense; any girlfriend of his would have to have tons of patience, and Ginny was not that person, at least not now. He wondered who that person might be, or whether such a person even existed.

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As the students entered the Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle, everyone wrenched their necks to determine who had returned and who had not. The Gryffindor table had not changed appreciably from previous years, though they noted a few empty spaces. Parvati Patil as expected did not return, nor did her Ravenclaw twin Padma. To Ron's relief, Lavender Brown also counted among the missing. Otherwise everyone in their year returned.

The glaring absence stuck out unavoidably at the Slytherin tables, where only five students sat. No Malfoy, no Goyle, no Crabbe, no Zabini, no Parkinson. Harry did not recognize any of the remaining Slytherins, and no seventh year Slytherin returned.

As they gazed at the nearly empty table, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione and commented, "You really have to admire those five. It must have been difficult to return."

"At least they'll have plenty of room in their dormitories," rationalized Ron, "Each of them can have their own room."

"Can't say I'll miss them," Harry mused, "but it just doesn't seem right somehow."

"I know what you mean. A thousand years of Hogwarts history out the window," Hermione expressed with a hint of sadness. Her Head Girl badge reflected the candle light. "For all practical purposes, Hogwarts now has three houses instead of four. The five Slytherins will be grouped with Hufflepuff for all of their classes. Other than sleeping in their dormitories, being a Slytherin will mean nothing."

The half-giant Hagrid led in the first-years, and murmurs immediately rumbled through the hall at the noticeably smaller incoming class, though a decent number lined up at the door. Professor McGonagall, who had never appreciated the opening poems of the sorting hat, apparently put an end to that tradition, as the sorting began without delay. Only one new student entered Slytherin.

When at last Professor McGonagall stood, the hall immediately silenced, for the students anxiously wanted to hear from the new headmistress, given the events of the past months. McGonagall paused a few moments, unnecessarily, to allow the noise to die down. All eyes gazed upon her, and she surveyed the remnants of the Hogwarts student body.

"Welcome all of you to Hogwarts. It is my sincere hope and expectation that this term at Hogwarts will be a successful one, despite the formidable obstacles facing us. But firstly I must thank all of you for returning to or enrolling for the first time in Hogwarts. You will have noticed that a number of familiar faces are absent today, and I most certainly respect the decisions of those students and their families. However, my colleagues and I believe with all of our hearts in the value of a Hogwarts education, and I applaud each of you who have decided to return to this castle during this time of uncertainty." She paused a moment, perhaps expecting applause, but the Great Hall remained completely silent.

McGonagall waved her hand in reference to Hogwarts Castle, and proceeded, "This school has opened on September first of each year for more than one thousand years, and the thought that it might not have opened on this September first is one I did not allow myself to consider. Yet many problems did face us, most importantly the matter of security. As many of you know, Professor Dumbledore placed many protective wards on this castle, and his tragic demise left the status of these wards in question. I am pleased to report, however, that these wards remain in place, despite the fact that according to common knowledge, some of them should have disappeared with the passing of the headmaster. As we all know, Professor Dumbledore was an especially great wizard and man, his mastery of magic unmatched. Somehow he arranged for these formidable wards to remain. While no place is completely secure in these times, Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the world."

"Now is not the time to discuss specifics of your schedules. You will learn over the next days of certain adjustments to what has been customary in the past, but I am confident that these adjustments will not be difficult. Unfortunately, due to security concerns, we no longer are able to allow Hogsmeade visits, though we are attempting to determine if visits by small groups can be arranged. Moreover, due both to security concerns and a drop in enrollment," her eyes involuntary scanned the Slytherin table, "no organized quidditch will be played this year. Again, we will make every attempt to allow informal games for those of you who love the sport."

If McGonagall expected groans at these last points, she was surprised, for the assembly remained silent. No doubt the students had already guessed at these measures and for once did not hold them against the Hogwarts administration. They also realized the difficult position of the new headmistress and did not want to burden her further with complaints. The fact that Slytherin house had virtually disappeared doubtlessly contributed to the good manners.

After reviewing more routine security measures, Professor McGonagall paused one last time before concluding. The headmistress was a witch of conventions, not one to create trends or cause ripples. Certainly she had never uttered the name of You Know Who in a public address. Thus her concluding comments especially jarred the Hogwarts student body.

"Let us all realize that we live in a time of great danger. Lord Vol . . . Voldemort is alive and seeking to impose his warped version of magic upon the magical world. Let it be known that in these halls, we will resist! In these halls, all wizards and witches shall be treated equally, pure-blood, half-blood, muggle-born; it matters not! Discrimination based on blood shall not be tolerated! Now more than ever, we must unite and cooperate."

Harry felt quite impressed that the headmistress spoke the words "Lord Voldemort" instead of the euphemism, though she stumbled slightly when pronouncing them. Nevertheless, the effort showed how seriously she felt about taking a stand, and the clarity with which she denounced the purity-of-blood debate encouraged him. Yet all in all, Harry found it hard to care about any of this. Yes, he had returned to Hogwarts, but in body only. His spirit resided elsewhere, and he wished his body did too.

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At about 10:30 pm, Hermione stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, completely exhausted. Harry and Ron sat up waiting for her, and she smiled her appreciation, as she dropped into her favorite comfortable chair by the fire which they had saved for her, her bag falling to the floor. She took a couple of pins from her hair and let it shake free.

"I hope every day isn't as tiring as this one," she pleaded.

"What's been going on?" Ron asked.

"Well, we had the prefects meeting, as you know, and then I had to meet with McGonagall in her office with several teachers. She calls it her 'Executive Committee.' She plans on having a meeting about once a week, at least for the first few months. Ernie and I are supposed to attend as representatives of the students."

Ernie McMillan of Hufflefuff had been named Head Boy. Not an inspired choice, Harry considered, but he could not think of anyone better.

"Any big news?" Harry inquired, as he cared little about the normal ins and outs of running the school.

"Well, there's no DADA teacher yet. To begin with, aurors from the Ministry will fill in. Slughorn has not returned, so there is a new potions master, a woman. Can't remember her name right now." Hermione yawned and shifted in her comfortable chair next to the relaxing warmth of the fire. "Flitwick is back for Charms, but McGonagall can't do Transfiguration, so there is a new teacher there too."

This was not what Harry wanted to know.

"I meant, is there any 'big' news, like threats from Voldemort."

"Oh," Hermione muttered as she bent her legs under her, "Only one unusual matter. McGonagall mentioned it at dinner. They can't figure out why some of the wards are still intact, as they definitely were tied directly to Dumbledore. They should have ended when he died, but they have checked several times, and the wards are still in effect. Apparently because his body is buried here, the wards somehow have remained, but nobody knows how. Of course, we're not complaining, but McGonagall is worried that the wards will suddenly fall. I guess that's why Voldemort hasn't tried to attack."

They looked at each other with puzzled expressions, until Hermione finally could stand it no longer, and excused herself to head for her bed. Just as her feet touched the floor, with a soft pop Dobby arrived.

"Harry Potter, sir, Dobby has good news. Dobby found Amelda Barlow. Dobby knows where Amelda Barlow lives."

"Great!" Harry exclaimed, "Where?"

"Amelda Barlow lives in Romania."