A.N. (Thanks a lot everyone for the reviews! Some of you gave advice, and I'll definitely try my best to follow. Sorry for the extremely long wait, by the way. Many things kept me apart from the story, so I can't tell you exactly how often I'll get to update, but I promise I won't leave this story. One more thing, I'll no longer copy direct quotations from the books, as someone told me it was annoying, and also, the chapters are going to be a little different from the canon from now on. Hope you like this chapter…)
Poll #3 Results: First five winners of Which two male characters in Harry Potter do you like the best?
Harry James Potter(6 votes), Sirius Orion Black(4 votes), James Harry Potter(3 votes), Neville Longbottom, Albus Severus Potter, George Weasley (all tied with 2 votes) Yes, I know it's six people, but three of them tied, so I couldn't exactly leave one of them out. Thanks for voting!)
Poll#4 (What is your favorite Harry Potter pairing? Please remember to vote!!!)
Chapter Eight: The Wrath of Lucius Malfoy
Early morning sunshine filled Gryffindor Tower with light, which illuminated the scarlet papered walls and made the gold draperies glow. In the first year boys' dormitory, three of the boys, awake, were contemplating whether or not to awake the other two boys, whose snores filled the room as if ten people were sleeping in it.
"You reckon we should pour water on him?" Dean Thomas asked Harry nervously, pointing at the snoring Ron.
"Dunno," replied Harry yawning, "Experience has taught me that there are those who do not take to water that nicely."
"We'll miss breakfast," piped up Neville, looking longingly towards the door.
"Go on ahead of us Neville, we'll come after we wake up Ron," said Harry.
"But I don't know the way," said Neville, looking imploringly at them, "If one of you can only come with me."
"Neither do I," said Seamus Finnigan, "But I'm quite famished as well, so we might as well ask a prefect for directions to the Great Hall."
Neville happily followed Seamus out of the dormitory and down the flight of stairs into the common room.
"How bout' him?" asked Dean, pointing towards Draco.
"What about him?" asked Harry.
"Shouldn't we—"
"Nah," said Harry, "It'd be quite funny to see him walk into class late."
"Yea, but we sleep in the same dormitory as him. He could murder us in our sleep if we don't wake him," suggested Dean.
"True," said Harry, nodding his head, then, "Oi Malfoy! The sun is up and the birds are singing! Time to rise!"
With a yelp of surprise and fright, Malfoy fell on the floor, bed sheets rolled around him. He untangled himself with as much decorum as he could muster and gave a big glare to Harry and Dean, who were sporting innocent grins and trying not to burst into laughter.
"I was already awake," he said with dignity, stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.
Harry, who was hungry, didn't feel like waiting forever to wake up Ron and pulled the bed sheet from under him. Ron gave a yell and falling to the floor like Malfoy, protested, "What was that for?"
"If you haven't noticed, today is the first day of classes, and we only have 45 minutes before breakfast ends and our classes begin," said Harry sarcastically, "and Malfoy's in the bathroom by the way. You'll have to wait."
Ron grumbled as he got his things ready.
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"Ooh, is that him?"
"Where?"
"Over there"
"I can't see, move over!"
"He's right there, next to the tall kid with red hair!"
Harry felt extremely uncomfortable. Whispers had followed him the minute he had stepped out of Gryffindor Tower, and everyone, literally everyone, stared at him, some even tip-toeing to get a better look. It wasn't like he was some animal in the zoo or something! Gritting his teeth and trying not to get annoyed, Harry walked to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Thanks to his father, Sirius, and Remus, Harry very easily found his way to the Great Hall, remembered which stairs not to step on, and which doors were not really doors. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts, at least according to his mother. Harry hadn't bothered to open Hogwarts, a History before coming to school.
A month before school started, James and Sirius had grilled Harry and Dudley about every aspect of Hogwarts castle, including the secret passageways and the staircases: the wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump, etc. It was all very confusing to take in, especially doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending.
The Hogwarts ghosts, not limited to Nearly Headless Nick, the Grey Lady, the Fat Friar, and the Bloody Baron, didn't help much either. Of course, nobody actually asked the Bloody Baron for help, but rather him than Peeves the Poltergeist, who was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"
"Thank god your parents told you bout' Hogwarts, or I'd never have found the way here in time!" exclaimed Dean, falling into his seat out of breath. Although good exercise, Gryffindor Tower having so many staircases between it and the Great Hall wasn't very convenient.
"All my parents told me was to 'study hard', at least, my mum did. My dad just told me to ask a muggle the function of a rubber duck," said Ron, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, "Hey Dean, you're a muggle; so how does a rubber duck work?" Dean gave him a very strange look, but before he could reply, the mail came.
A horde of owls, all in different shapes, colors, and sizes, came flying in. Some of those who were muggle-born and not familiar to this kind of communication shrieked in surprise. Others exclaimed in awe. Harry saw Hedwig fly over to him, but not surprisingly, she had no letter with her. After all, Harry had only sent his parents a letter last night.
"Hey girl," he said, patting her. Hedwig gave him an affectionate nip before taking a few gulps of pumpkin juice from his goblet and flying back to the snug warm owlery.
"What do we have first today?" asked Ron, taking a large bite from a muffin.
"Transfiguration," replied Harry, glancing at the schedule Percy had just handed him, "then Herbology and History of Magic before Lunch. A two hour break after lunch, and then Defense Against the Dark Arts before the school day ends."
"That's not so bad," remarked Dean, "What do we have tomorrow?"
"Not much," said Harry, looking at the Tuesday column, "Only two classes: Potions and Charms, but they're both double hours."
"Ah well," said Ron, "Guess we'd better go, or we'll be late for Transfiguration. Fred and George told me Professor McGonagall hates late-comers."
"Not to worry!" said Harry cheerfully, "I know a secret passage that will take us directly to the classroom next to the Transfiguration classroom in five minutes! My dad, Uncle Padfoot, and Uncle Moony always used it back when they were at school."
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15 minutes later, Harry, Ron, and Dean stumbled into the Transfiguration classroom, 5 minutes late and very out of breath. But fortunately for them, Professor McGonagall didn't seem to be there. Strangely, a cat was sitting on her desk, surveying them. For a second, they thought it was Mrs. Norris, the caretaker, Mr. Filch's, annoying cat, but then noticed that she was a much handsomer cat and quite a different color.
"Good thing she's not here yet," wheezed Ron, dropping into a seat in the back row, "Can you imagine the look on her face if she had seen us walking in late? And you promised that the secret passageway would bring us here in time!"
"I probably got it mixed up with the one behind Wendell the Weird's portrait!" Harry defended himself, coloring slightly. "Give me a break, we haven't even been here a day yet!"
Neither Harry nor Ron noticed the warning glances Hermione Granger, who was sitting in the front row, was giving them, but you can say they were quite aghast when the 'cat' suddenly transformed into their strict faced transfiguration professor, now bearing an even stricter expression, so that the lines around her face looked quite menacing. Ron especially gulped, praying fervently that the professor hadn't heard his first remark.
"Explain yourselves," Professor McGonagall snapped.
"We…we were lost," Harry stuttered, trying to ignore the smirks of Draco Malfoy.
"Perhaps you could have used a map," Professor McGonagall crisply replied. "And what is this I hear about a secret passageway, Mr. Potter? I was under the impression that no one save Mr. Filch and the Headmaster knew of any secret passageways in this school."
Harry gaped at her. How was he to explain himself out of this one? But an odd smile, a very brief smile, crossed the professor's face, and disappeared as fast as it had come, so that Harry and Ron had to wonder if there was a smile at all.
"Do not make this mistake again," she said, "I will let you off now, since it is the first day, but any late-comers from now on will have 2 points deducted from their house, and it will double each day they're late."
Walking back to the front of the room, she said, "And Mr. Weasley, next time, do watch who's in the room before commenting on that person."
Ron gaped and colored bright red, his face contrasting quite horrible with his bright red hair. Harry and Dean snickered while Hermione Granger looked disapprovingly at them.
"Transfiguration is one of the most difficult and risky magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back, as I have no patience for time-wasters. You have been warned."
Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas gulped, while the other felt a little unnerved. Only Hermione Granger looked excited, quite intent on proving herself capable of lasting in Professor McGonagall's class, and sat up straight, with a slightly haughty expression on her face. Harry didn't look at her, as she reminded him of a girl in his primary school named Susie Michaels, who was abnormally smart and very annoying to listen to, not to mention a little proud.
Transfiguration wasn't so bad, but it was true that it was very tricky, and needed their utmost concentration. They started off with turning matches into needles, and the pointier the needle was, the better their grade was.
Professor McGonagall turned her desk into a pig and back again, but at their excited faces, told them that kind of high level magic was taught in third year, and if they worked hard enough, would be able to do more exciting things by their seventh year.
Professor McGonagall was, Harry soon found out, nicer than her countenance showed. Out of their class, only Hermione Granger had made her needle the pointiest, and second, Draco Malfoy, whose needle was only a little less pointy than Hermione's. He looked quite sour that a girl had done better than him, and that too a muggle born. Nevertheless, Professor McGonagall awarded each of them five points, and they were the only two exempt from homework.
"The rest of you shall have to write a foot long essay about the history of this spell, and master it for the next class, which will be day after tomorrow. Good luck!"
Ron grumbled about the homework the entire way to Herbology, which was taught by a squat cheerful looking witch called Pomona Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff House.
The Gryffindors had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, therefore giving Harry and his friends a chance to greet Dudley and his friends.
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Albus Dumbledore paced the length of his office, with his hands behind his back, and deep in thinking. A letter, with the unmistakable scrawling of Lucius Malfoy, sat on his desk. Dumbledore walked back to it and sat on his chair with a thoughtful expression on his face. Pushing his slipping glasses up his nose, he peered at the letter once again, as if trying to understand a deeper meaning from it.
Albus Dumbledore,
I do not know what you mean by insulting my family in such a way as you did yesterday. My son, the heir of Malfoy Manor, placed in Gryffindor? Your sorting hat must be out of it's mind! I will be seeing you this evening after dinner. Mark my words, I shall not leave until my son has been placed in the right house.
Lucius Malfoy
Albus Dumbledore was not an ignorant man. He knew the threat behind Malfoy Snr's words. My son better be transferred to Slytherin, or else. Plucking a lemon drop from the small glass bowl on his desk, he chewed thoughtfully, as if deciding what to do. Yes, thought Dumbledore, he had been surprised indeed when the young Malfoy child had been placed in Gryffindor, not because he was not brave or spirited, but because he surely must have picked up the old Malfoy prejudices against Gryffindor and muggle-borns. But…the sorting hat never made any mistakes, and surely in young Draco's case, it must have done the right thing. Therefore, there was no need to worry or take any drastic actions. Mr. Malfoy would just have to learn to adjust to his son's placing.
When Lucius Malfoy burst through Dumbledore's office, banging the door open with no consideration to the sleeping portraits surrounding the office, Dumbledore only looked up with a slight smile on his face, not at all surprised with the rude entrance of the Senior Malfoy.
"Welcome Mr. Malfoy," he greeted from his couch-like chair, "Do take a seat."
"Explain yourself," Lucius growled, dropping onto the offered seat angrily.
"I don't know what you mean," said Dumbledore peacefully, "What's troubling you, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Don't play dumb with me Dumbledore!" Lucius sneered, "Did you think I'd find it funny when you placed my son in…filthy Gryffindor!"
"The sorting hat does the sorting, Mr. Malfoy, not I, so maybe you could place your inquiries to it?" asked Dumbledore.
"You very well know the sorting hat won't change its decision!" Malfoy hollered, jumping out of his chair.
"Then it seems as if the situation is out of my hands," replied Dumbledore calmly.
"You can simply place my son into the rightful house," Malfoy said, collecting his calm.
"Rightful house? The sorting hat chose his rightful house when it sorted your son, Mr. Malfoy. Exactly what do you mean by rightful house?" Dumbledore inquired, peering at Lucius's eyes.
"You very well know I am referring to the noble house of Salazar Slytherin, Dumbledore," Malfoy sneered, making up his mind that Albus Dumbledore really was dense.
"Ah," said Dumbledore, "But young Draco's rightful house is Gryffindor, Mr. Malfoy, as the sorting hat placed him into it. The Sorting Hat never makes mistakes, as you well know."
"Rubbish!" was all Lucius said.
"I apologize," said Dumbledore, standing up, "But the matter is out of my hands. Once placed, a student will not be transferred."
"So you refuse to move my son?" asked Malfoy in a still voice, glaring at Dumbledore.
"If you put it that way, then, yes," Dumbledore calmly replied. Lucius Malfoy looked at Dumbledore with a stony silence for a full minute before opening the door with all the dignity he could muster. "This is not the end of the matter," he said quietly before leaving with a sweep of his robes.
Dumbledore stared at the open door before closing it quite calmly. No doubt, Lucius Malfoy would write to the Minister of Magic for support in the matter, but fortunately, the Decree for Education of Magical Children stated that in issues regarding the sorting of future Hogwarts students, the ministry must not get involved.
"I've often thought students get sorted too quickly," Dumbledore muttered to himself, "But maybe not in all cases. What do you think, Dippet?" Dumbledore looked at the portrait of the sleepy Armando Dippet, previous headmaster of Hogwarts.
"Couldn't agree with you more, Albus," Dippet murmured, dropping into a deep sleep.
A.N. (Sorry for not writing too long, but I've been terribly busy with college work, and I just couldn't find time to spare for this story! But I promise I'll update as soon as I get a chance. Hope you all enjoyed this, and remember to cast your vote for the poll in my profile!)
A peek into the next chapter…
"I've found her—we've found her!" James exclaimed, swinging Lily around in happy circles while she laughed.
"You must come back with us Tuney," Lily whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek, "We promise, we'll get Duncan and Delilah back."
"I can't—oh, I can't!" Petunia broke down crying.
"Albus, I found you the perfect candidate for Muggle Studies professor," Lily stated.