Chapter 12
The Seventh Year
The morning of September 1st found everyone both packed, and pensive. This would be their last ride to Hogwarts before graduation; Hermione found this both elating and sad, and was alternately cheerful and teary-eyed, which drove Ron to distraction. Harry himself felt nothing at all – or perhaps, more honestly, a quiet sensation hovering somewhere between anticipation and foreboding. Would all of the teachers have returned with the decision to reopen the school delayed so long? What had happened with Malfoy's trial? They had carefully scanned the Daily Prophet every day since Harry attended the hearing, but the paper had given no indication that a trial had ever taken place, much less what had happened during it. And what had happened to Snape?
As with the year before, the Ministry of Magic had arranged for a car to take them to King's Cross Station, with a silent, unsmiling Auror driving them and two more waiting to unload them and get them onto Platform nine and three-quarters.
With their trunks had been stowed away on the train, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley faced Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Harry, all lined up together. "Goodbye, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, hugging her daughter tightly. "Have a wonderful time and we'll see you at Christmas." Ginny, her lip trembling and eyes inexplicably bright, hugged her back fiercely. "Things will be all right," her mother whispered in her ear. Mr. Weasley also hugged her. "Goodbye, Daddy," she said in his ear. "Try to get some rest."
Mrs. Weasley was beaming at Ron, who looked a bit downcast. "Sorry I didn't make Head Boy, Mum," he mumbled as she hugged him.
"Oh tosh, don't worry about it!" she laughed, holding him at arm's length. "Three years as prefect is just as good! Ah, my little Ronnie, finally ready to graduate. I'm so proud of you!" And she hugged him again even more tightly, as he looked at Hermione and Harry, his face burning with embarrassment.
Mr. Weasley put a hand on Ron's shoulder as his mother moved away from him. "Well done, Ron," he said simply, a proud smile on his face.
Ron's face lit up as he smiled back. "Thanks, Dad," he said just as simply. He and Mr. Weasley hugged for a moment.
Mrs. Weasley was now smiling at Hermione. "I wish your mother and father could be here to see you off," she said and hugged Hermione tightly as well. "I know they'd be so proud of you!"
"Thank you!" Hermione said feelingly. "I know they'll be here in June when I come home. Thank you for being here now, and for all your hospitality!"
"Very glad to have you," Mr. Weasley beamed, offering her his hand, which she took. "I know Ginny thinks of you almost like a sister."
"And I her," Hermione said, looking over at Ginny, who smiled back.
Mrs. Weasley had come at last to Harry. She was almost in tears, yet smiling radiant at him. "I'm glad you made it here," she told him softly. "I don't know what Ron and Hermione would have done this year without you."
"I don't either," Harry agreed. Knowing what they had planned, he was a bit uncomfortable about what he was saying to her, but the next moment Mrs. Weasley was hugging him tightly.
"Be safe this year, Harry dear," she whispered in his ear. "There'll be plenty of time for running around and making things right after you're out of school."
"Touching scene." At the drawling voice Mrs. Weasley, startled, let go of Harry and stepped back, a tear trickling down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away. Draco Malfoy was standing a dozen feet away, an amused smirk on his face. His mother Narcissa was beside him, staring at the group as if public displays of affection were high crimes.
Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's cronies, were also nearby, smiling nastily as they pushed their and Malfoy's trunks toward the train. "Thought you wouldn't be seeing me this year, perhaps?" Malfoy went on. "Well, did you?"
"What makes you think I've been thinking about you at all?" Harry said coldly.
"It seemed like you were making everything I did last year your business," Malfoy sneered as he walked after Crabbe and Goyle toward the front of the train. "Let's go, Mother," he said to Narcissa. They walked a few feet, then Malfoy suddenly turned around and said, "Oh, and better watch your step, this year, Potter, or you may get detention." He folded back the lapel of his robe. Hermione and Ron both gasped.
Pinned to his chest was the Head Boy badge, its bright silver H gleaming in the midmorning sunlight. "See you at Hogwarts, Potter." Malfoy turned and was gone. Ron uttered a curse under his breath. His mother turned toward him sharply, but surprisingly, said nothing.
There wasn't anything to say after that. Mr. Weasley shook Harry's hand wordlessly, giving him a grim nod as they boarded the train. The whistle sounded and the train began to move. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley waved goodbye, and the train departed the platform for their last trip to Hogwarts.
Ron and Hermione went forward to the prefects' car while Harry and Ginny found an empty compartment. They hadn't spoken much in the last two weeks; Harry was frankly a little unsure how to proceed. The reason for him breaking up with her was supposedly gone now, but they both knew perfectly well thing were nowhere near being finished with Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
"You don't have any idea what to say to me, do you?" Ginny said suddenly. Harry looked up at her. It was almost uncanny. He'd been playing over things in his head, trying to decide how to start a conversation.
"I – well, I don't – er –" Harry stammered. "No, I don't," he finally finished lamely.
Ginny chuckled. "Well for one thing, stop trying to overanalyze what you should say to me. It's just us, you know?"
Harry smiled slowly. "Yes," he agreed. "It's just us. So," he said briskly, taking her words to heart. "What are we going to do about Quidditch this year?" They talked Quidditch for some time, and were discussing the World Cup results when someone came into view outside their compartment. It was Jonathan Crown, dragging a trunk behind him. Harry tapped on the compartment door's window, motioning for him to enter, and Jon accepted gratefully. He shook Harry's hand and Ginny's as well, remembering her from outside Gringotts Bank.
"I'm not used to lugging something like this around," he said, indicating the trunk. "I usually have several suitcases back in the States, but a trunk seemed to be in keeping with the custom, so I decided to try it."
"We got on just as the train started to leave," Harry said. "Did you get on before?"
"No," Jon said feelingly. "I found the passage to Platform nine and three-fourths and came through just as the train was starting to pull away. I barely got myself and this trunk on – I had to jump to make it! I've been looking for a compartment since then."
"They can't all be full," Ginny said with a frown.
"Well, they haven't been," Jon conceded with a shrug, but a lot of the seats were being 'held' for someone else, when I asked."
Ginny snorted. Jon laughed. "I thought so too, but I wasn't going to push it. Plus, there's some guy a few cars back named Neville who's entertaining a large group of people with some story about a wizard named Voldemort – wasn't he killed recently or something like that? What is it?" he added, as Ginny and Harry looked at each other, then back at him.
Harry sighed. "That's a long story, believe me."
"Is it worth hearing?" Jon asked, interested.
So Harry told him the story of Voldemort's rise, decades before, and how people like his and Neville's parents had fought against him. Neville's parents ended up insane, his own ended up dead, but Voldemort was stopped for a time because he believed killing Harry would nullify a prophecy made that a child would be born that would have the power to destroy him.
A month ago, however, that prophecy was apparently broken when Voldemort and his followers attacked Neville and his grandmother at their home. His grandmother was killed but somehow, it seemed, Neville had managed to destroy Voldemort.
"You don't sound like you believe Neville killed Voldemort," Jon said, after Harry finished describing these events.
"I would like to believe he did," Harry said honestly. "The prophecy could apply to either of us, except –" Harry lifted the hair over his forehead, revealing the lightning scar. Jon looked at it with interest. "—Voldemort marked me, first with this scar, when he tried to kill me, then when he decided that I was the one the prophecy referred to, not Neville. Plus, there are reasons to believe that Voldemort is not completely dead."
Jon smile. "You mean he's only mostly dead?"
"Yes." Harry was hesitant; he did not know Jon well enough to want to drop an inadvertent hint about Horcruxes in front of him. Ginny was giving him a warning look as well. "I don't want to say more than that, but there's reasons to think Voldemort did not actually die."
A knock on the compartment door startled them. The door slid open and Luna Lovegood leaned in, her protuberant eyes looking over each of them in turn. When she settled on Harry, she said, "Hello there, may I come in and sit with you for a while?"
"Sure, Luna, come on in." Luna, a Ravenclaw girl in Ginny's year, already dressed in her Hogwarts robe even though the lunch trolley hadn't even come round yet, walked in, perching herself solemnly on the seat next to Harry, across from Jon.
"I see you have a new friend," she said, looking at Jon, who was smiling benignly at her. "He looks nice."
"I hope I am nice," Jon said, extending his hand to her. "I'm Jonathan Crown, from the United States."
Luna shook hands with him. "Ah, that would explain your American accent, then," she said vaguely.
"Yes, it would," agreed Jon.
"What brings you to see us, Luna?" Ginny asked. "How's Neville doing?"
Luna looked out the compartment, then leaned forward and gestured for them all to come closer. Harry, Ginny and Jon all leaned forward as well, and Luna said in a stage whisper, "I think Neville's having a bit of trouble dealing with his newfound fame."
Imagine that, thought Harry, who'd been dealing with his own, mostly unwanted fame for the past six years. "What's up with him?" he asked aloud.
"His story about defeating Voldemort is becoming more and more unbelievable every time he tells it," Luna said worriedly.
"Don't you believe it?" Jon asked.
"Oh, I have to believe it," she told him. "I was there, after all. I just don't know how much of it he believes anymore."
Jon looked perplexed at this statement, but Harry leaned in, intrigued. "What do you think he believes, Luna?"
"My father's writing an exposé on it for next month's Quibbler," Luna said, smiling dreamily. "I read it this morning before we left to catch the train. He explains how Professor Snape put an Imperius Curse on Neville to force him to attack You-Know-Who."
"But, I thought Voldemort attacked Neville at his grandmother's home," Jon protested.
"Yes, Professor Snape cursed him as well. With both Neville and You-Know-Who out of the way, he's now poised to become the new Dark Lord," Luna replied in a very sensible tone.
Before Jon could respond to this, Neville himself appeared at the door of their compartment. "Oh, there you are!" he said, opening the door. "Luna, I've been trying to talk to you ever since we've gotten on the train!"
She looked at him a bit forlornly. "You haven't been doing a very good job, then, because we haven't talked much."
"I know," Neville said. "I'm sorry! It's just that so many people want to hear the story –" He caught sight of Jon at that moment. "Oh, hello! I'm Neville Longbottom."
"Hello, Neville, I'm Jon Crown."
"You may have heard, I killed Lord V-Voldemort a month ago, just when I turned 17," Neville said, adding quietly but feelingly, "after he killed my gran."
"I have heard that, Neville. I'm sorry about your gran."
"Thanks," Neville mumbled. He turned back to Luna. "Do you want to go back to my compartment so we can talk? I don't want you to be upset with me."
"I'm not upset with you, Neville," Luna said complacently. "I just didn't want to be a bother while you were talking with all of your new friends."
"Will you come back?" Neville pleaded. "Please?"
"Of course." Luna stood, then turned back to Harry. "It was nice to see you again, Harry, and you, Ginny." She looked at Jon. "And it was nice to meet you, Jon. I like your accent." She turned to Neville and he stepped back to let her out.
Just then, however, another student appeared in front of the compartment. "Are you Neville Longbottom?" she asked, giving him an envelope when he nodded. Neville stood in the doorway opening the letter as the girl tried to step around him. His face lit up as he read the contents.
"Oh! I'm invited to the Slug Club!" he exclaimed. "Come on, Luna!" He ran off in the direction the girl had come from; Luna, after looking back at them momentarily, followed. The girl who had just given Neville the letter leaned into their compartment.
"Are you Jonathan Crown?" she asked Jon. He nodded and she handed him an envelope as well. "Ginny, this is for you," the girl handed her an envelope as well.
"Thanks, Heather," Ginny said as Heather smiled and left.
Jon was looking at his letter. "What's the 'Slug Club?' " he wanted to know.
"A waste of time, if you ask me," Ginny muttered disdainfully.
Harry offered more of an explanation. "One of the professors, Horace Slughorn, invites certain students to have lunch with him on the train to Hogwarts and during the school year. He tends to pick students who he thinks will go on to bigger and better things."
"Oh, I see," said Jon. He looked at the envelope with an expression somewhere between a frown and a grin. "So he can say, 'I knew them when' after they're famous?"
"Or infamous," Ginny added. "He knew Voldemort when he was a student here at Hogwarts."
"He knew my mother, too," Harry said.
"So what would he want with me?" Jon asked.
"Well, you're obviously going to go on from Hogwarts to be someone rich or famous, or both," Ginny said sardonically. "Unlike Harry, who's obviously off the list this year," she added, giving him a wide-eyed, innocent expression.
Harry managed a chuckle. "I s'pose I am," he said. "But I've already had my day with Slughorn."
"What do you mean?" Jon asked, curious again.
"Oh, nothing," Harry said, waved off the question. "You'd both better get going to see Slughorn. Tell me how it turns out."
"Will you be alright here alone?" Ginny asked. Harry looked at her for several moments, wondering if there were any of his own feelings for her showing through the veneer of friendship they'd covered things with.
"I'll be fine," he said gamely. "Everybody's probably listening to Neville's story at the Slug Club by now."
"Don't be a smart aleck," she said, her tone much like her mother's when she spoke sternly, but she covered it with a smile. Jon opened the compartment door for her and they stepped out and were gone.
Sighing, Harry wondered what to do next, with no one to talk to. Just as he'd decided to close his eyes and sleep, if he could, the compartment door opened again and Hermione and Ron stepped in.
"Pansy Parkinson's Head Girl," Ron said without waiting for Harry to ask. "She and Draco make such a perfect couple," he said, imitating Parkinson's voice in a simpering falsetto. "Of prats, that is," he added viciously.
Hermione didn't say anything; she simply threw herself down on the seat beside Ron, looking perfectly miserable.
"What's been going on back here?" Ron inquired.
"Neville and Luna came by a while ago," Harry said. "I think they're a couple now, by the way."
"Really?" Ron said, sounding surprised, but Hermione looked at them both like they were thick.
"They've been a couple since just after the fight at the school," she said. "Don't you know anything about what's going on with her and Neville?"
"How do you know, then?" Harry challenged her.
"Luna told Ginny and Ginny told me. It's pretty serious, Ginny said Luna told her they planned to get engaged at the end of Neville's seventh year. Well," Hermione added as an afterthought, "I don't know how recent events might've changed things, I haven't talked to Ginny or Luna about it in some time."
Harry and Ron looked at each other. "So, what about Malfoy and Parkinson?" Harry asked, looking for someone they could all enjoy abusing. Hermione and Ron complained for quite some time about the various outrages Malfoy and Parkinson had heaped on them after showing off their Head Boy and Girl badges to the other prefects.
Eventually the lunch trolley rolled past and they bought some pastries and other treats, with Harry getting extra in case Ginny or Jon returned. They did, eventually, but it was nearing time for them to change into school robes, which they did before everyone settled themselves to await the train's arrival in Hogsmeade.
"So how did the first meeting of the Slug Club go?" Harry asked Ginny after they were all seated.
"Too long," Ginny complained. He spent most of it getting Neville to tell his story over and over."
"Who else was there?" Ron asked. Perhaps so he could avoid them during the school year, Harry wondered.
"Malfoy was there, Pansy wasn't," Ginny counted off the list on her fingers. "Neville, of course, and Luna was there as well; Neville insisted and Slughorn allowed it. Zabini and Marcus Belby were back. Malfoy kept wondering aloud why you weren't there," she added, "but Slughorn just ignored the question. Jon, what did you think of Slughorn?"
"Well, he was nice enough, I suppose," Jon said. "He fed us well."
"Jon impressed him too," Ginny said with a twinkle in her eye, glancing Hermione's way as she spoke. "He's gotten straight A's in all his classes for the last three years at school."
Hermione's eyes widened but Ron looked unimpressed. "Straight A's? So what, I got seven O.W.L.s and most of them were E's."
"In America, Ron, A's are the equivalent of O's here," Hermione said softly.
Ron looked at her. "How d'you know that?" he asked.
"I read it in a book," she fired back. "You should try it sometime."
The train was beginning to slow. Everyone put their things away in preparation for leaving the train and for the carriage ride from Hogsmeade Station to the school. Hermione and Ron said goodbye so they could exit with the rest of the prefects and direct students to where they would need to go. Harry, Ginny and Jon joined the throng of students milling about outside the train. Harry heard Hagrid's familiar voice and turned toward the sound to see him walking nearby.
"Firs' years, follow me," Hagrid was directing new students to fall in line behind him; every year, as with Harry's first, he brought the first-years across the lake in a flotilla of boats. "Hiya, Harry!" he said as he passed, giving Harry a pat on the back that pushed him a few steps forward. "I'll see yer at the th' Feast!" Hagrid called over his shoulder, waving . "C'mon firs' years, let's get goin'!"
"What happens next?" Jon asked as Harry turned back to him and Ginny.
"Now we take a carriage ride," Ginny said merrily. She pointed to where the students over first-year were walking, out of the station where a hundred or so thestral-drawn carriages waited for them.
Thestrals were large, skeletal horse-like creatures with leathery wings and dragon-like heads. Harry had first been seen them when he arrived for his fifth year at Hogwarts. Neither Ron nor Hermione had been able to see them, however, making Harry worry whether he was hallucinating, until Luna Lovegood told him that she saw them, too. He wondered if Jon would be able to see them; meaning, of course, that he had seen someone die.
Ginny must have wondered too because as they approached the carriages she pointed them out and said, "So, what do you think?"
Jon looked at them, then at her and Harry. "I think they're carriages," he said with a grin.
"What about what's in front of them?" she asked.
"More carriages?" Jon said with a laugh.
Ginny laughed as well; an uncomfortable sensations ran down Harry's spine. What were she and Jon doing, flirting?
"No, I mean between the shafts," Ginny persisted.
"You mean those big things that look like horses with bat wings?"
"So you can see them, then?" Ginny asked.
"Yes," Jon said, a bit perplexed. "Can you?"
"Yes," Ginny nodded.
"You can?" Harry said to her, surprised. "Who'd you see die?"
Ginny gave Harry a little "don't you remember?" look. "That Death Eater, Gibbon, who was in the attack on the school. I saw him get hit by Rowle's Killing Curse."
Harry wanted to ask who Jon had seen die as well, but such a question seemed out of place for someone he barely knew. He pushed it out of his mind for now.
They got into a nearby empty carriage. After a few moments Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan approached; seeing Ginny, Dean hesitated but she said insistently, "Come on, you guys," and they climbed in, nodding at Harry and looking at Jon curiously. The carriage began moving down the road toward Hogwarts castle.
Along the way Harry introduced Seamus, Dean and Jon, who all shook hands. "Good to meet you," Dean said, nodding again.
"Jon's here from America, Dean," Ginny said at Dean's look of confusion at the unusual greeting.
"Excellent!" Dean said with a wide grin. "I've always wanted to meet a Yank! Uh, I hope that's not a bad term," he added quickly.
"Not at all," Jon shook his head. "Any more than 'Brit' is, I hope."
"Actually, I'm Irish," Seamus said, grinning as well. "But I expect you didn't mean anything by it."
They arrived at the front of the school along with the other carriages, disembarked and climbed the stone steps into the castle's entrance hall. Jon was looking around in awe at the torchlit walls, the high arching ceiling, and the marble staircase in front of them. "Wait 'til you see the Great Hall!" Dean told him excitedly.
Making their way to the Gryffindor table, they were greeted enthusiastically by the other students already seated there, including Ron and Hermione, who had saved spots for them. Almost as soon as they were seated, however, the doors of the Great Hall opened again and Professor McGonagall, now the Headmistress, entered, leading a line of first-years to the front of the Hall, where Professor Flitwick was placing a four-legged stool, on top of which was a very old, patched wizard's hat. As everyone in the hall stared at it, the hat suddenly began to sing:
Oh, you may say I'm old and torn,
That I'm not a pretty sight.
But looks aren't brains, so wait and see,
How oft I end up right.
I wasn't made too fancy
Not for royalty or the ball,
But I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
The top hat of them all!
I'll have a look inside your noggin
A gander, just to see
What kind of brains you've got up there,
And where you ought to be.
Perhaps you'll go in Gryffindor,
Where dwell those hearts so stout
Their bravery, nerve and chivalry
Make Gryffindors stand out.
You might reside in Hufflepuff,
Good people, loyal and just
Those hard-working folks in Hufflepuff
Will ever earn your trust.
The smart ones end in Ravenclaw,
Of sharp and ready mind
For those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind.
Or perhaps the House of Slytherin
Is where you'll make your stay
The cunning who use all their skills
So things work out their way!
Now put me on! I'll top you off
Let's find where you belong
For I'm a Thinking Cap, I think,
And I am never wrong!
As everyone applauded, Headmistress McGonagall stood and began unrolling a parchment scroll. "When I call your name," she told the first-years before her. "You will put on the Hat and sit on the stool. When the Hat has announced your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table." And the Sorting began.
As the names were being called Harry scanned the Great Table. One person sitting there caused Harry to sit up and take notice. He nudged Ron and pointed out the newcomer. "Look who's sitting with the teachers next to McGonagall's chair!" he whispered.
Ron did a double take. "Whoa! What's Tonks doing up there? D'you think she's a teacher now?"
"Dunno. Hermione!" Harry caught her attention as she was talking with Ginny. "Why is Tonks sitting up with the teachers?"
Hermione looked, her eyebrows shooting upward in surprise. "That's interesting! Mrs. Weasley never said a word about it."
Jon was looking up front as well. "Which one of them is Tonks?" he wanted to know.
"The one with the pink hair, mate," Ron said. "Bit hard to miss, isn't she?"
Tonks was wearing her hair pulled back in a bun, but it was a shocking shade of pink. Harry couldn't help but smile, wondering what the other teachers thought of her, if indeed she was to be a new teacher this year.
After the last of the sorted first-years took their place with the other members of their new House, McGonagall, instead of picking up the Hat and stool, stood in front of it and addressed them once more.
"This year, some of you may have heard, in honor of our board of governors deciding to keep Hogwarts open, and in light of certain recent events, I have allowed two exchange students to join the seventh-year class. I would now like those two students to come forward and be sorted into the House they will become a member of while they attend classes here. Will Jonathan Crown and Deirdre Recaunt come forward, please?"
Jon stood and walked up to the front of the class, Harry looked around to see who the other student joining him was. He saw her stand at the Ravenclaw table; she had been seated next to Luna Lovegood. Luna applauded as Deirdre walked toward the front. She was a tall, gangly girl with long straight brown hair and a face that could best be described as "cute," Although she wasn't beautiful by any means. Seeing her in profile, however, Harry was vaguely reminded of his Aunt Petunia. She and Jon stopped in front of McGonagall, both looking uncertain about what to do next.
"Mr. Crown, if you would go first, please," McGonagall handed him the Sorting Hat. Looking bemusedly at the Hat, Jon sat down on the stool and placed it on his own head. Harry and Ron exchanged a grin – it looked faintly ridiculous for a seventh-year to have to go through the sorting ritual.
The hat was motionless for some time, reminding Harry of how long his own sorting had seemed to take. The Hat had almost put Harry into Slytherin until he insisted he didn't want to go there. Finally the tear along its brim opened and it shouted out, "Gryffindor!" The Gryffindor table burst into applause and Jon, smiling and applauding with them, retook his seat near Harry.
"Good show!" Ginny said as he sat down. "I was just beginning to wonder where we were going to put you tonight!" Harry stared at her a long moment, but she did not look at him.
Everyone's eyes were now turned to the other new student, Deirdre Recaunt, as she slipped the Sorting Hat onto her own head. Within a few moments the hat roared "Ravenclaw!" and Deirdre rejoined Luna at the wildly clapping table as Professor Flitwick removed the stood and Hat.
Returning to the golden chair at the center of the Great Table, McGonagall studied the class silently for a moment, giving Harry a chance to really look at her for the first time since they had seen her a few weeks ago. She was beginning to look a bit gray, and her features were more tired than he'd ever seen them before. He wondered how much she'd had to work to get the school opened by September 1, undoubtedly the reason for her weary appearance.
"Before we begin the Feast, I would like to thank our board of governors for giving us the opportunity to continue teaching our craft to the students of Britain, and now the world." She began to applaud, which the other teachers and then the entire student body took up, until the Great Hall was filled with the thunderous sound of hands of all shapes and sizes clapping together.
As the applause died down McGonagall spread her arms wide. "And now, let the Feast begin!" She clapped her hands together one last time and on the tables, all the empty golden plates filled with food: roasted beef, fried and roasted chicken, and fillets of fish; potatoes mashed and boiled and chipped; corn, creamed and on the cob; peas and beans by the bowlful; there were platters of rolls and plates of bread of all types; bowls of gravy and hollandaise and marinara; vegetable trays and bowls of apples and oranges.
Ravenous at the sight, Harry and Ron and the rest of the Gryffindor table tucked into everything in sight, too busy eating to even talk at first. Eventually, as people were becoming sated, conversations began popping up throughout the Great Hall. The food disappeared, replaced by puddings and pastries of all types, which students quickly helped themselves to, to top off their meals. Soon the Great Hall was filled with sighs and groans of satiety as everyone pushed away from their plates and dishes.
There was a clinking of glass and everyone turned to the Great Table where Headmistress McGonagall had risen once again. "I hope everyone is getting their fill of the Feast," she said warmly. "I am glad to see everyone is enjoying themselves. We just have a few details to sort out before I dismiss you all to your rooms and some well-deserved rest and relaxation before your first day of classes tomorrow.
"First years, take notice that the forest on the school grounds is forbidden to all pupils. All pupils," she repeated, staring at someone on the other side of the Hall, though Harry could not tell who it was. He exchanged a glance with Ron, who was looking as well; they were both surprised McGonagall hadn't been looking at them, as often as they'd ended up there over the past six years.
"Mr. Filch, our caretaker," McGonagall continued. "Has asked me to remind everyone that joke and gag items, especially those from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, are banned from the school."
"That's a lost cause considering how many Hogwarts students were in the shop before start of term," Ron muttered to Harry.
"Anyone wishing to play Quidditch for their House team should give their name to their Head of House as usual. First years will not be allowed to participate in Quidditch."
"That's right," came a drawling voice from across the Hall that Harry recognized as Draco Malfoy's. "No first years have been allowed to play since Harry Potter, six years ago."
"Mr. Malfoy, kindly do not interrupt me while I am speaking," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Five points from Slytherin for rudeness." There were mutterings and grumbling from the Slytherin table, which quickly subsided when McGonagall added archly, "Would you care to try for ten points?" When there was no response, she returned her gaze to the rest of the Great Hall.
"This year, as with every year, prefects – all prefects," she emphasized, looking again at Malfoy. "Will direct first year students to their rooms and will furnish them with the password for their common rooms. Also, I would very much appreciate if the seventh year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw prefects will help get our exchange students settled into their dormitories. Agreed, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron, who had been picking at a fingernail, jumped and nodded as McGonagall fixed him with a hawklike gaze. "Miss Jones?" Megan Jones, who was the seventh year girl prefect for Ravenclaw, nodded as well.
"I would like seventh year students to remain in the Great Hall after the other students are excused," McGonagall said. "To discuss a policy that has been instituted this year by our board of governors."
McGonagall seemed to hesitate, but only for a moment, then continued briskly. "Finally, we have only one more item to discuss before you are all excused to your beds to rest in preparation for tomorrow's classes. I would like to introduce our teaching staff."
"Finally," Ron muttered to Harry. "I think Tonks must have gotten the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It's the only thing that fits why she's here." Harry nodded silently, wondering if that was the reason for her presence here.
"Our teaching staff is largely the same as last year," McGonagall continued. I am pleased that all of them were able to return at such short notice, and I deeply appreciate the sacrifices they made to do so. Please give them a warm welcome back."
The Hall exploded into applause, most notably from the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. The Hufflepuffs were cheering as well; the Slytherin table's welcome was lukewarm at best.
When the applause had died away, McGonagall turned to her left where Horace Slughorn, a short, wide, heavily mustachioed man, sat finishing off the last of a portion of gateau. "Professor Slughorn joins us for another year as Potions Master." There was a smattering of applause as Slughorn waved an airy hand.
Turning back to her right, McGonagall continued. "And taking over the subject of Transfiguration is our newest member, Professor Nymphadora Tonks."
The Hall burst into applause once again. Harry whistled loudly; Tonks caught his eye and grinned as she waved amiably at the rest of the students applauding her.
"And now my final introduction." Suddenly McGonagall's voice seemed strained and uneasy; Harry felt an unsettling sensation growing in the pit of his stomach. If Tonks wasn't the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who was?
"I'm pleased to announce the end of a long-standing problem we've had, one that's run on for a very long time now. It has now come to an end." McGonagall's words were cheerful, but their meaning was anything but that to Harry, who now suspected something dreadful was about to occur.
"Back for his second year in a row as Defense Against the Dark Arts –"
It felt as though someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed, making its beating difficult and painful. This can't be! his mind protested in horror.
"– Head of Slytherin House, Professor Severus Snape!"
SNAPE!
The Slytherin table surged to its feet, applauding and cheering wildly as Professor Snape appeared at the door behind the Great Table and approached to stand at the Slytherin end of the table, waving lazily to the cheering students before him. The other teachers at the Great Table were applauding, but none of them looked at all happy about seeing Snape again.
The rest of the school had come to its feet as well, but not to cheer for Snape. "He's a murderer!" shouted Dean Thomas.
"He shouldn't even be here!" several Ravenclaw students were shouting as well.
"Murderer!" Ginny was screaming. "Murderer! MURDERER!"
Hermione had covered her mouth, her eyes were wide with terror – not for fear of Snape, but at the look of murderous rage on Harry's face. His wand, somehow, was in his hand. He didn't remember drawing it. "No, Harry!" Hermione whispered desperately, as he continued to stare at Snape's sallow features, the sneer on his face Harry was sure was there just to torture him. He'd promised that if Snape ever crossed his path, it would be so much the better for Harry, so much the worse for Snape.
"SILENCE!" McGonagall had magically amplified her voice. It reverberated throughout the Hall and the shouts and cries died away. "Professor Snape is a teacher in good standing with the school. He has been cleared of all charges against him –"
"Yeah, by Harry Potter!" Malfoy's voice rang out again. The entire Hall gasped. Even McGonagall stepped back as if struck a physical blow, her wand slipping away from her throat.
"He gave testimony at Professor Snape's trial two weeks ago that cleared him of murdering Dumbledore! I was there and heard every word!" Draco shouted.
That was who the hooded figure next to Umbridge must have been, Harry realized. The trial had been for Snape, not Malfoy! The Ministry had tricked him again. Harry looked at Snape; a hard, cruel smile had come across his pale, thin face, and he turned to look at Harry with victory once again flashing in his eyes. This was too much to bear. Too much!
Harry turned and ran headlong for the doors of the Great Hall. "Potter, stop!" he heard McGonagall call to him but he paid no heed. Throwing open one of the doors, Harry dashed into the entrance way and up the marble staircase, running blindly. He ran with no goal, no destination in mind except to put as much distance between himself and Snape as possible. He could not fight him here, in Hogwarts; neither could he run away from his friends.
As he bounded up a flight of stairs Harry realized that he had unwittingly come back to the place where all of this had started. He stepped through the door at the top of the stairs and found himself on the Astronomy Tower, the place where he had witnessed the last conversations of Dumbledore with Malfoy, the Death Eaters who had broken into the school, and Snape. He walked slowly, his body trembling, to the spot where he'd leaned, immobile, under his Invisibility Cloak as he listened to those last words.
Tired, despairing, dispirited, Harry slipped to the stone floor of the Tower, lying prone, his arms covering his head. Why did you immobilize me, he thought to himself, seeing Dumbledore in his mind's eye as he was that night on the Tower. I could have helped you against Malfoy and the other Death Eaters. I could have stopped Snape from killing you!
No, you would have been killed, another voice, in the back of his mind, answered. You were barely able to catch Snape afterwards, even with help from members of the Order and Dumbledore's Army. And Snape might have harmed you, perhaps even killed you, if not for Buckbeak's timely intervention; as it was, he escaped anyway.
Harry was not having much luck arguing with himself. He lay with his cheek against the cool stone, wondering what he would do next, what he could do next.
Sleep, the voice told him softly. Things will work out for the better tomorrow. Sleep.
Harry fell asleep.