A/N: As a reviewer mentioned, there is a lot of cannon - but changed according to the new paradigm.
The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. Harry immediately recognized Professor McGonagall. Harry noted that many of his fellow-first years were quite nervous at her appearance. She did look quite intimidating.
Harry himself was not nervous at all – he quite liked the woman.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it.
The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done.
Finally she addressed them. "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts.
"You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." She looked around the room to see if there was anything obvious.
Harry tried to flatten his hair, as impossible as it seemed to be. Professor McGonagall's lip twitched the slightest amount. Nobody noticed.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
Before she turned away Harry said, "Thank you, Professor McGonagall." Several other voices repeated this, most sounding quite nervous.
She nodded her head in acknowledgement with a very slight smile and then left the chamber.
The other first years were looking at Harry. He looked around. "What?
One of the other first years (sandy-haired with an Irish accent) said, "That's a scary looking woman! She might have taken offense to someone talking out of turn!"
Harry was about to reply when a drawling voice came in from the side. "It's only good manners. Any Pureblood knows that you should treat those in authority with respect." Several turned to see Draco Malfoy standing to the side with a snobby expression. Hermione, Neville, and Ron all looked at Harry and rolled their eyes.
Harry grinned to himself: Gotcha!
Harry immediately said, "Mr. Malfoy is correct." Draco looked smug. His friends looked disbelieving. "But it's not just teachers. When I got my letter, the Professors told me that manners were extremely important in dealing with others, including other students. You don't have to like everyone. But many Magical races are much easier to deal with if you're polite. It's just good sense to get into the habit early." Harry took on a look as though what he said was obvious correct in all respects.
He missed a number of speculating looks by others who knew Draco Malfoy. Was this all that was needed to get him to shut up? Hermione also took on a thoughtful look. Harry knew she was a bright girl – she would work it out. He'd likely have to explain to Ron and Neville.
Flashback
Harry shook his head. "I know that's kind of funny. But Professor Dumbledore seemed to act like he would crack down on that type of thing in the future. So I can't do anything like that."
Remus had nodded and Sirius looked morose.
Harry said thoughtfully, "How do you prank the idiots and keep good etiquette?"
Sirius' faced had also taken on a thoughtful look – and then one that was quite manic.
Harry looked at Sirius. "What?"
Sirius grinned as he said, "Well, the big problem with the pureblood bigots is that they act superior and insulting. You just have to 'Out-Snob the Snobs'."
Harry was confused.
Sirius leaned closer. Remus was also quite interested. "The first opportunity, the very first opportunity, find the biggest ponce you can." He thought about his cousin and her son. "I'm sure you'll find one. Anyway, as soon as he or she acts the slightest bit rude protest their lack of good manners and breeding as politely as possible but very loudly."
Harry asked, "How will that help?"
Sirius laughed. "Cause most Purebloods can't let anyone else have anything that they can be called on. They have to be 'the authority'. Whoever it is will take the first opportunity to point out his good manners and breeding in front of witnesses."
Harry thought about it. "Well, it will make it harder for him to be rude. But it's not much of a prank."
Sirius looked at the other two. "Ah, but you have to do one more thing."
Harry got interested. "One thing? What is it?"
Sirius sat back and took on a superior look. "Agree with him."
"Huh?"
Sirius looked like the cat that got the canary. "Agree with him and applaud his manners in front of all witnesses. Point out how the Dumbledore and McGonagall explained about good manners and how important it is. Don't be condescending, cause other students will take offense, but hammer home how important good manners are. The ponce will have no choice but to keep it going. And if it's the biggest ponce around, you know he will have to correct the other ponces to show how superior heis. The Professors will agree with him, too. He'll feel superior. And then, you can call the ponce on insulting other people. Just act insulted and disappointed that such rudeness is taking place. Cause you know the ponce will slip. After a while, he will stop being insulting because he will HAVE to be superior because he's 'A Member of Good Pureblood Society' and better than everyone else." Sirius' grin got bigger. "It will defang the ponces and you don't even have to hex them to do it."
Remus looked amazed at Sirius' explanation. Where was this logic when they were going to school? Harry just grinned, making plans in his head.
End Flashback
The students were contemplating what Harry had said, until suddenly something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air — several people behind him screamed.
He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing.
What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know he's not really even a ghost — I say: What are you all doing here?"
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.
Harry, having just espousing the importance of good manners, volunteered, "We're waiting to be sorted, Sir."
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them.
A few people nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned.
One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."
Feeling suddenly extremely nervous, Harry got into line behind the boy with sandy hair, with the other three behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place.
It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.
Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.
Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought, that seemed the sort of thing— noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
Harry heard Ron mutter, "And the twins were going on about a troll – it's just a hat." Harry remembered the twins' comments when he visited the Burrow the first time. He had taken it as a joke because of Mrs. Weasley's response.
Harry was quite nervous about getting sorted in front of everyone in the Hall. It was quite intimidating.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" Harry recognized pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails as she stumbled out of line. She was one of the girls from the compartment where he found Trevor.
She sat on the stool and put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. There was a moment's pause —
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her. Harry politely clapped as well. Hermione, Neville, and Ron followed suit – even if Ron was a bit more hesitant. Finally, the other first years also started clapping.
The Professors and all of the students looked over at the first years and many non-Hufflepuffs began clapping as well. The Great Hall was now filled with applauding students.
The girl blushed furiously at the applause.
"Bones, Susan!"
The other girl he had seen in the compartment moved forward and donned the hat. "Hufflepuff!" She moved to sit next to Hannah Abbot as applause once again filled the hall.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
He moved to table second from the left; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Harry observed that this table held the most people which looked like ponces. He clapped regardless, forcing the other first years and thus the rest of the hall to continue doing it, even the Gryffindor table which was most hesitant. He missed the surprised look from the tall figure on the dais with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
Harry started to feel a little queasy as his turn came closer. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. He didn't like the reminder of his time with the Dursleys.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at other times it took a little while to decide. "Finnegan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" Harry's clapping became much more enthusiastic for his friend. Hermione shot him a grateful look.
When Neville's turn came, he fell over on his way to the stool. Harry was close enough to help him up. He chuckled a bit ruefully as he patted Neville on the shoulder. Neville looked a bit less anxious at the gesture.
The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. Finally, it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," and Neville ran off – still wearing the hat. He jogged back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." Harry gave him a commiserating look.
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"
Harry politely clapped, giving Ron a bit of a glare when he didn't immediately join in. Ron reluctantly clapped as well.
There weren't many people left now. "Moon"…, "Nott"…, "Parkinson"…, then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"…, then "Perks, Sally-Anne"…, and then, at last —
"Potter, Harry!"
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.
"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, "I'd prefer to stay with my friends in Gryffindor."
"Gryffindor, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head. Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Well, if you're sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen for Gryffindor, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet.
Percy got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"
Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.
He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Professor Dumbledore. His silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted a professor looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.
And now there were only four people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table.
"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now.
Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.
"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin.
Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He was getting a bit hungry as the substantial snacks had run out quickly.
Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry laughed: Professor Dumbledore certainly knew how to grab everyone's attention. He looked around at the other first years to see their reactions. Percy lifted a plate and asked, "Potatoes, Harry?"
Harry looked down and saw that the table was now full of food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.
Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.
Harry had a grand time eating with the other first years. The ghost had introduced himself — Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington — and Seamus Finnegan had relayed his more common nickname. He decided to keep with 'Sir Nicolas' as 'Nearly-Headless Nick' didn't seem to go down as well.
Harry learned his year mates' stories. Neville related his learning of his magic. He also related Professor Dumbledore's response. The listening Gryffindors were quite taken with Neville's description and all turned an impressed look toward the Headmaster.
Harry was a bit surprised that Neville volunteered the information. He had become less hesitant but was still a bit shy. Harry guessed that Neville had breaking out of his shell and apparently wouldn't be crawling back inside of it.
Hermione wanted to talk classes and Percy Weasley humoured her.
Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. The purple-robed teacher in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
It happened very suddenly.
The hook-nosed teacher looked past the turban straight into Harry's eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.
"What is it?" asked Percy.
"Nnothing." Harry tried to pass it off. The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look — a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.
"Who are the teachers with the turban and the one talking to him?" he asked Percy.
"The one with the turban – that's new – is Professor Quirrell. He was the Muggle Studies Professor but took a year off. No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after the DADA job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."
Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.
At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.
"A few words now that we have full bellies and empty heads: Please welcome back Professor Quirrell. Some may remember him from before his sabbatical. He has returned to take up the vacant Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts position." He politely began applauding and the Hall followed suit.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch or their House Quiddich Captain."
A number of students cheered.
Finally, Professor Dumbledore motioned for quiet. He took on a serious look. "We have, in the past years, allowed a bit of latitude in terms of behaviour and punishment in order to avoid stress to those distracted by circumstances outside of Hogwarts. However, it has been ten years since the last major conflict was resolved to a degree. It is now time to return to proper behaviour."
He looked out at the audience, not targeting any particular House or Individual. "I will now, as the saying goes, take the 'train-brakes off' of the staff. They will be watching for proper behaviour and civility toward your fellow students and the staff."
Albus hated doing this. He cursed Wulfric mentally for his reputation of being lenient with troublemakers. He had to come up with a reason for his 'changed policies' which would be acceptable and this was his best choice.
"In the normal course of life, there will be disagreements and there will be those you do not like nor get along with. This does mean that improper behaviour will be excused. I do not expect students to have to accept poor treatment from others. Professor McGonagall," he motioned to her Deputy, "will have de-facto authority on the validity of punishments both in loss of points and in detentions assigned. Should any student still disagree with a punishment assigned, they may appeal to myself as Headmaster."
Professor Dumbledore hardened his expression at the looks of relief on the face of many students. "I will warn you ahead of time: This will no longer be the 'soft' option. If I find an appeal particularly frivolous, a doubling of the penalty is likely to be assigned." Those that had relaxed tensed once more.
He relaxed his expression and took on a kindly look. "That being said, I may not agree with a politely expressed appeal but I will not spuriously create harsher penalties. I am the last authority within Hogwarts when a student or parent has an issue or problem with Hogwarts' staff, facilities, or classes. Aiding students is my job. As it is for all Professors. So do not hesitate to come to me if other options have been exhausted."
The students as a whole relaxed – a little.
"We are Witches and Wizards! Magic is for use and I would encourage you to do so! The rule on magic in the Halls is to prevent accidents as are many other rules. This does not mean that you should avoid magic where it is safe." He took on a sly look. "I have even been known to appreciate a finely executed prank or two." He smiled even as the students laughed a bit. "There is an old credo: 'An it harm none, do what ye will.' Whilst this is a bit too lackadaisical to be a proper guide, it is the general idea that we shall follow. But heed my warning." He looked around. "Just because a counter-curse might correct a spell which otherwise is uncomfortable, that does not give leave to you, or anyone, to cast the spell because 'it didn't cause harm'. A stinging hex is still a hex, and if you use it on a fellow student without permission, it is still harm, even if temporary. Are there any questions?"
The Weasley twins looked at each other and then raised their hands. Professor Dumbledore nodded at the two to ask.
"Who decides what is harmful"
"And what is not? There are"
"Some who might disagree and"
"We need guidance in"
"The proper art of pranking."
In unison they added, "Guide us, Oh Magnificent One!"
The students were split between laughing (mostly Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs) and rolling their eyes (mostly Slytherins and Ravenclaws). The Headmaster chuckled a bit, as did a couple of the staff. Some of the staff (Professor Snape) looked annoyed. Finally the Professor answered, "All you have to do is ask. I shall encourage the staff not to retaliate if asked on the subject. Questions are not worthy of receiving a penalty. I am, once again, the last authority on what is acceptable."
The twins grinned and gave each other high fives. The students laughed again.
"Any more questions?" None volunteered. Finally he completed his statements with, "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"
Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"
And the school bellowed:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you go!"
The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry noticed that most were chattering about Professor Dumbledore's comments.
Harry's legs were like lead, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries.
They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.
A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.
"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself."
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.
"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" Harry remembered the Slytherin ghost that was pointed out to him during the feast.
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"
He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks above Neville's head. He ducked to the left and the sticks landed with a loud clatter. They heard Peeves zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said.
"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it – some of the shorter ones needed a leg up – and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.
"Great food, wasn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings.
Harry was going to ask Ron if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.
Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he wanted to stat in Gryffindor; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it — then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold — there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.
He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.
The staff met in the chamber off of the Great Hall. It was too far to trek all the way to the Headmaster's office.
Professor Snape was almost apoplectic. "Headmaster! How could you encourage those two menaces in their juvenile pursuit of idiotic tomfoolery?"
Albus' face took on an exasperated look. "Severus! In the years that you have been involved with Hogwarts, how often have you wished that the teachers had control of those that 'pranked' others incessantly?"
Severus Snape nodded, admitting that such had been a common thought.
"By allowing controlled options, the staff will now have a way of preventing those actions which are truly malicious or damaging. How can such be a bad thing?"
The Potion's Master sneered. "And what happens when the idiots hurt someone with their antics?"
"Then they will be punished. Harshly. As will any student who harms another. If necessary, I will even submit reports to the DMLE. This is not a prison – but it is a respected institution. We shall ensure the students act properly and those that refuse will not be here."
Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout were all nodding in agreement with the policy. The other staff were amazed. Professor Snape reluctantly nodded. "And what happens if a report is received but cannot be verified?"
Professor Dumbledore sighed. He really hated Wulfric's lackadaisical policies. "Are we not Wizards and Witches? We have oaths, pensieves, and methods to inspect wands. If necessary, we shall receive permissions and waivers from parents or the Ministry. A student might even request Veritaserum through the Ministry. We shall not turn a blind eye."
Severus Snape, once again, realized that life had changed drastically in Hogwarts.
Professor Dumbledore got everyone's attention. "Now, tomorrow morning the newly mandated screenings shall begin. First years shall be given examinations in the morning. As shall Sixth years after their NEWT schedules are set. Seventh years shall be after Lunch. All other years shall be inspected during their first scheduled History of Magic class."
"Why H-H-H-istory of M-M-Magic, H-Headmaster?" Professor Quirrell asked.
"Because it will prove the least disruption and all years First through Fifth attend it. This year is the only year all students will require a mandatory screening. In the future, it will be only First and Fifth years." He looked around. "I recommend that once the First and Sixth year examinations are completed the Sixth Years be assigned to take one or two First years and show them where classes are located. As all classes will be postponed until Tuesday, tomorrow will give ample opportunity. As the Sixth years are not preparing for OWLs or NEWTS, they will provide the most stable source for younger years to ask questions of if the prefects are not available. Impress upon your advanced students that the staff and I expect their good behaviour in dealing with the younger years. Are there any questions?"
The staff indicated not.
"Another item: I expect the bylaws to be followed. A monthly Head of House meeting should be scheduled for Monday next and then as appropriate. Coordinate between yourselves so that all meetings occur simultaneously. If your time is becoming difficult to manage, talk to me so that things may be rearranged as needed. Tell your students that I may drop by to each meeting."
The Headmaster made his way out and to his quarters. Many of the staff left as well. The Heads of House remained. Filius volunteered to the other Heads, "Albus' methods have changed. He has never been so invested."
Minerva nodded her head, "And a welcome change it is. I find it most refreshing to be certain that we will receive the Headmaster's support in ensuring proper behaviour." She turned to Severus. "I will impress upon my Lions the change in culture. You control yours and I will control mine."
Severus nodded. "I shall inform my Snakes of the lack of cunning in challenging the Headmaster in this." He swept out of the room, robes billowing.
Filius commented on his way out in the company of the other two Heads, "I still am curious as to how he creates that billow every time."
Professor Quirrell was feeling terrified and in pain. His Master was not terribly happy at the changes his old Transfiguration Teacher was implementing. The only reason they were still here was to attempt to goad out of the Headmaster the composition of the protections placed on the location in London. It would be a dangerous game.