Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the authors, producers, and companies with whom the material in question is affiliated.
A/N: Here you go! Real life is starting back up again, so I may have to start posting weekly or bi-weekly rather than the insane pace I set for the last book. Thanks for your continued interest and for taking the time to read.
Chapter Five – Back Again
The rest of the journey from London to Hogsmeade Station passed in a blur of sweets and lively conversation. Hermione especially enjoyed hearing about Neville and Harry's zeppelin ride.
"We took a cruise-class LuxeAir 220 to France because Mum hates planes, but it wasn't anything near so wonderful as a rainforest. We did have our own suite, though."
"I'll ask Mum and Dad if we can all go again, sometime," Harry promised. "It was pretty amazing."
Hannah blinked between the two of them, and her brow furrowed.
"What're you on about?"
When she continued her inquiry after Neville's airborne boat description, Hermione eagerly launched into an explanation of what zeppelins were and how they worked so thorough that even the unflappable Blaise leaned forward in interest. Susan, whose ken included much about the modern non-magical world from exposure through her aunt's line of work, helped translate the scientific terms for a wizarding audience.
"So, it's like a giant balloon?"
"Basically," Harry agreed.
"And it's got a compartment, sort of like a ship's cabin, underneath for people to ride in?"
"Exactly," Hermione nodded.
"And it doesn't use magic?" Blaise said doubtfully. "I know muggles are clever and all, but you can't just make something fly without help."
"Where non-magical people lack in magic they do with technology," Harry said for what felt like the millionth time since first learning about Hogwarts.
"It really does work," Hermione assured her disbelieving friends. "Look, if it's that difficult to imagine, we'll build a miniature one together."
"Oh, Jenny'll like that. How big should we make it?" Harry said, rubbing his hands together. "You've got to specify the scale, here."
"We can't make it big enough to ride in," Hermione scoffed.
"Then how are you going to prove it works, really?" Draco grumbled. "If you don't put anyone in the cabin, you haven't proved anything."
"We'll make it big enough for a six-year-old," Harry insisted. "My sister's always wanted an airship."
"No magic allowed, agreed?" Susan suggested.
Tracy stared around at them all like they were mad.
"Is anyone going to comment on putting a six-year-old in an experimental flying vehicle and giving her the steering wheel?" she demanded. "You're all bonkers or supremely confident. I can't tell which."
Hermione and Harry grinned.
"We accept your challenge," he said, ignoring Tracy's interjection. "We'll ask mum to requisition the materials this weekend."
They pulled into the station shortly thereafter, and the quintet separated from the others to find one of the carriages waiting to carry them off. The thestrals pulling them padded the ground silently. Harry watched his friends' expressions. He felt fairly certain from the way they approached the vehicle that all of them could see the leathery, skeletal, winged horse, but no one commented to confirm his suspicion before or after they climbed in and shut the door bearing the Hogwarts crest behind them.
Excitement overwhelmed Harry's melancholy as the line of steadily moving carriages passed through the wrought iron gates guarding the road to the castle, where two hulking winged boars of weathered stone stood as sentries on either side. Their granite snouts twitched as each carriage drove past.
"I hope they've got fruit tarts for pudding," Neville said as the castle's brilliant windows came into view on the horizon. "I'm starving."
Harry practically bounced in his seat by the time they pulled to a stop before the main steps. A sea of black-robed students poured through the soaring entrance, their pointed hats casting spiky shadows behind them. Harry barely fought down the impulse the push past them, unwilling to be caught in so closely pressed a crowd after Diagon Alley. Finally, they swept into the great hall, and the uncomfortable closeness eased with the students' dispersal among their houses. Neville and Hermione gave their Slytherin friends a short wave as they disappeared among them. Harry immediately began scanning the head table.
He found them near the end, where Rose beamed down at him from Snape's side with the Doctor next to her. He talked animatedly with Professor Flitwick, and Harry could tell by the animation of his dynamic eyebrows that he found thorough entertainment in the conversation. Snape's eyes found Harry after his parents waved to him. He nodded subtly, and Harry smiled unreservedly. Already, Hogwarts seemed a brighter place for his family's presence. Snape looked decidedly less crotchety than he had for the entirety of the last year, he could see his sister every day if he wanted, and his parents were there to keep the Headmaster in line. Harry only looked away when sitting required it.
"Your mother's even prettier in person," Draco complimented as they sat nearest the head table, in a perfect position to view the rest of the hall. "But who's that waving at you?"
Harry turned and groaned. There, seated on McGonagall's left, was the last person Harry wanted to see in the defence professor's post.
"Is that Gilderoy Lockhart?" Daphne hissed indignantly. "But his books are awful. They're more an extended autobiography than anything else."
"How can you say that?" Pansy Parkinson snapped. "Just because he's prettier than you–"
"Believe me," Daphne interrupted in a tone of bored dismissal. "If I begin to desire your dubious opinion, I shall notify you. Otherwise, please do keep that awful whinging voice to yourself."
Blaise, a few seats down, choked back a laugh. Draco smirked.
Whispers began sweeping the halls. Those who recognised Lockhart easily filled in the others, and everyone correctly assumed he would be taking the defence professorship for the year. No one, however, seemed to know who the two strangers were.
"Are they together?"
"He's proper gorgeous–"
"Have you ever seen a Hogwarts professor you'd actually want to–"
Harry very deliberately tuned out the older boys' commentary after that.
"What do you think she'll teach?"
"Did they create a new class?"
"Who are they?"
"Who is she?"
"Fabulous dress sense–"
Finally the main doors opened again, and McGonagall led in the first-years, immediately blanketing the hall with a buzzing, anticipatory calm.
"Oh, that one looks like she fell in the lake," Tracy said sympathetically, nodding to a particularly small girl with large blue eyes and sheets of water-darkened blonde hair.
McGonagall absently cast a drying charm at her once the first-years came to a stop. Everyone eyed the ancient Sorting Hat, and dutifully applauded its song. The first-years seemed to understand their trial had begun, and all started shifting anxiously in their neat little queue. Harry counted only a few more than in his own year, and he wondered whether they had looked as terrified before their sorting.
McGonagall unfurled her list with a practiced, economical twitch of her wrist, and a deeper hush settled over the great hall.
Aubrey, Beth was the first to be sorted. The little brunette hopped eagerly onto the stool. The hat had barely touched her head when it shouted:
"GRYFFINDOR!"
And so it went. The girl who looked like she fell in the lake ended up in Ravenclaw. She skipped the whole way to her table, where her housemates whooped and hollered. Harry's stomach grumbled. He absently noted Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley joined Beth in Gryffindor. Only five remained, now. The boy felt very glad McGonagall had nearly exhausted her list.
Finally, Edward Zuirl joined the Gryffindors, too, and the hall exploded in applause. As before last year's feast, Professor Dumbledore had the decency to hold off on long announcements until after they had the chance to satisfy their bellies.
"Tuck in!" he simply said.
"Hear, hear!" the Weasley twins shouted in unison.
Nearly everyone laughed. Platters of delicious food appeared on the table, and only eleven years of hard-learned table manners kept Harry from ripping into the beautiful pheasant before him with both hands as Ron Weasley was doing two tables away. He couldn't help but notice the boy more often than other people he mildly disliked, and thought perhaps Ron exasperated him more often than most since he liked the boy's older brothers so well.
At his sides, conversation around the table picked back up where it left off.
"So, does anyone know who the beautiful witch is?" Adrian Pucey asked.
"Why?" Draco laughed. "Wanting to court her?"
"She's a little out of your league," Blaise said playfully. "Leagues out of your league, really."
"Don't be stupid." Adrian rolled his eyes. "I'm just curious."
"She's Mrs Roselyn Smith," Daphne said primly. "And the gorgeous one–"
Harry shuddered at the look on her face. It was too weird to have people admire his mum and dad that way.
"–is Mr John Smith."
"How do you know, Greengrass?" Parkinson sneered.
Daphne smiled sweetly at Harry. He sent her a pleading look, but the girl either ignored or did not recognize his silent appeal.
"Because they're Harry's mum and dad."
Sharp, calculating eyes turned on him, and Harry found himself the centre of an inquisition much greater than the one he faced last year. Word spread like mad down the Slytherin table and across the hall until the volume level raised several decibels, and many students craned in their seats to see Mr and Mrs Smith better.
"What are they going to teach?"
"I thought they were muggles!"
"Are they related to the Smiths of Exeter?"
When the puddings lay thoroughly demolished and it was time for Dumbledore to speak again, the headmaster had to let off a cannon blast before the hall returned to a semblance of peace.
"Thank you for your attention," he said mildly, his beard twitching with obvious amusement. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! If you are returning, I am very glad to share some very exciting changes with you all. If you have just joined us, I am sure you shall benefit greatly from these new measures. As you no doubt have noticed, we have the honour of welcoming not one, but three new professors to our staff this year."
The Professor paused and smiled when his students contained their obvious curiosity.
"In addition to Mr Gilderoy Lockhart, your new professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts, it is my great pleasure to introduce Mrs Roselyn Smith, Professor for Non-Magical Culture. This subject shall be replacing the class previously known as Muggle Studies. Dear Professor Lumsden–"
A burly Scott Harry vaguely recognised rose and waved to everyone.
"–Graciously agreed to teach a new subject, Wizarding Law and Etiquette, which, after careful consideration of the school board, shall be mandatory for all students from first to third years."
This produced a response from nearly everyone. Many groaned in disappointment at the added workload, and none more loudly than the boys of Gryffindor. The Hufflepuffs seemed mostly accepting, the Ravenclaws excited, and the Slytherins, per their usual habit, whispered among themselves. Harry sat a little straighter. He hadn't known about that, but supposed it made sense. Perhaps the Doctor had come up with the idea to keep Mr Lumsden happy.
"Professor Smith brings joins us with a Mastery of Non-Magical Cultures and Sciences from the Melbourne Academy of Higher Magical Study and a Mastery of Social Sciences from Oxford University, a most prestigious muggle school of higher learning. In addition to teaching her Non-Magical Culture, she will be offering a select group of students aside from her own the opportunity of off-grounds expeditions, which will be announced ahead of time and shall require the permission of a parent or guardian. If you have questions, her office hours shall be posted in your common rooms along with her colleagues'. Please join me in welcoming her to Hogwarts."
Harry and his friends clapped the loudest as his mum stood and nodded to them all, a huge smile on her face. Several boys whistled, to which Harry tried not to wince. It was too weird. He knew his mum was pretty, but he felt embarrassed on behalf of his gender and not a little uncomfortable. Professor Dumbledore smiled around at them all indulgently, and eventually raised his hands for silence. The ghost of Professor Binns floated through the floor to hover beside him. Everyone began murmuring all at once: He never left his classroom.
"For over a century, Hogwarts has been blessed with the honourable Cuthbert Binns' wonderful teaching. Indeed, so dedicated was he in his efforts to educate young minds, he could not leave his post until a teacher of equal or greater calibre could be found. I find it bittersweet, then, to ask you all to join me in applauding Professor Binns in his remarkable performance as he formally retires from his post."
The acclamation was slower this time and a little hesitant. No one enjoyed Binns' classes, but they did afford an extra naptime to anyone so inclined. Binns bowed around at them all and promptly sunk back through the floor.
"Professor Binns has graciously offered himself as an assistant librarian to Madam Pince. He shall always be available for students desirous of extra assistance in history."
A few students snickered at the unlikelihood of anyone taking him up on the offer.
"It is, therefore, a great pleasure to announce his successor: Mr John Smith, Doctor of History, Sociology, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Medicine, Psychology…"
Many of the non-magically raised began murmuring in amazement as the headmaster glanced over his half-moon spectacles at his podium.
"Actually, this list is quite long, so I shall shorten things by assuring you Mr Smith holds just about every Degree of higher education available to muggles, in addition to internationally certified Masteries in Charms, Transfiguration, Magical Theory, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Healing and History."
The murmuring became a smidge incredulous. The professor responded by raising his voice by a few decibels.
"He will be taking up Professorship for History of Magic. I am sure, after seeing his lesson plans, that you shall thoroughly enjoy his class. He has also generously offered to teach monthly weekend seminars. Any O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. student who would like to revise in his subject may sign up in his common room."
Despite the students' mixed feelings about the class, nearly everyone clapped (the girls most loudly of all) as the Doctor bowed and waved. It died more quickly than the applause for Rose, to her obvious satisfaction. She winked at her husband, who shrugged and smiled unconcernedly back at her.
"Finally," Dumbledore continued once quiet reigned again, "I must remind you all the Forbidden Forest remains, indeed, forbidden. Also, Mr Filch has refreshed the list of banned items. It has been posted in each of your common rooms and on his office door for your perusal. Quidditch tryouts shall be held on the third Saturday of this month. Please check with your head of house and quidditch captains if you are interested in playing for your team."
The headmaster twinkled at them all as if being among them were his greatest joy and clapped his hands together. The plates, leftovers and cutlery vanished, leaving behind spotless tables.
"Thank you all for your attention. Now, pip, pip! Off to bed."
Harry lingered as his housemates milled toward the door. He caught his parents' eye and waved before following the other Slytherins out of the great hall.
…
A Slytherin in want of information was a thing to witness. Harry should have known how excitable his housemates were sure to be after so momentous a welcoming feast, but for whatever reason, he forgot exactly how determined they could be.
They laid in wait, crammed into the common room, when he entered. Harry goggled momentarily at them all. Usually, the space felt rather intimate, big enough to fit perhaps fifty people at most (uncomfortably); however, it seemed nearly all two hundred-some Slytherins gathered throughout the den.
"Is it bigger in here?" he asked absently as Daphne and Draco stepped through the doorway to flank him.
"Of course it is," Draco murmured after a quick look around. "How else do you think they did the common room feast last Halloween?"
"He probably assumed a buffet and year group study room situation," Daphne whispered.
The seventh-year head prefects, Terrance Higgs and Bridget Blishwick, set off a couple flash bangs, and the clamouring shouts for Harry's attention faded out.
"Right. Professor Snape will be here momentarily," said Bridget with a stern look at the underclassmen. "And we have class in the morning, so I propose we handle this with the dignity I know you all to possess."
"Blishwick and I have discussed it, and with Potter's permission, we would like to have a question-and-answer session tomorrow at eight o'clock, here in the common room. In the meantime, please put your questions in this box."
Terrance waved his wand at a lump of firewood, which levitated to the centremost coffee table and morphed into a plain oaken box with a little slot at the top.
"Well, Potter? Do you agree?" he prompted.
Everyone stared to look Harry where he'd stopped by the entrance. He weighed their faces, which ranged from curious to frustrated, and finally gave a shrug.
"Fine with me. Obviously, I reserve the right to dismiss any question I find too personal. Other than that, I suppose a little foreknowledge would set you lot up for more points."
"Excellent. Thank you for your graciousness," Bridget nodded. "Now, everyone above first year should go to bed. Breakfast begins at half past six and ends at nine if you're lucky enough not to have a lesson scheduled for eight-thirty. Higgs and I shall have timetables delivered to your rooms by eight."
On that note, Harry, Draco and Blaise retired to their beds, wholly ignoring Nott, who shouted questions after them as soon as they entered their common study. Harry breathed a sigh as his door swung shut behind him. The magical wards built into the wood by an especially thoughtful past head-of-house hummed to live, and Hedwig, who sat on her perch, gave a gentle screech of welcome. Her human spent several moments stroking her soft feathers before she flew off to hunt.
"I can tell you enjoy thisss," Kilat hissed in Harry's ear after he lay down for the night.
Harry yawned and gently brushed a finger over the little snake's tiny head.
"I grew up around a certain level of chaos," he said tiredly. "Besides, I'd put up with nosiness any day to keep my parents around. Last year was awful."