I'm back! Thank you, reviewers! I was very happy to see some new people reviewing- my story's spreading... YAY! I'm also very, very, very sorry for the long wait! I had my midterms and was enveloped in studying, which is priority! But I'm really glad to be back!

Big thanks to hedwig136 and Gabwr- these two always review on almost every chapter, and I'm so grateful. You ROCK! Anyways, on with the story and please review!

Disclaimer: Despite many elaborate schemes, I still do not own Harry Potter.

THIS IS THE EDITED CHAPTER 11. Always look for this note! Always! :-)

It Ends Now

Part 11: "Newcomer"

The Hogwarts students departed from the train, dispersing out in different directions. The chattering that normally rung out through the cool, dark evening was replaced by a foreboding silence, full of suspicion and fear. White and trembling countenances sought out the castle's outline, fear etched into the eyes of many a witch and wizard. The last few hours had been marked by chaos, but this one oozed of shock.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione lingered off to one side, mingling in a small crowd of sixth years. They listened to all the rumors flying around about how the Death Eaters had really been driven away after their great ransack. Harry watched with mild humor as one over-eager first year divulged to entranced peers his version of the event, which included howling banshees eating Voldemort's associates after turning them into pumpkins. Others just discoursed on in shock, rambling incomprehensibly about how unsafe Hogwarts was and wondering why no teachers had come to their aid. Harry wanted to snort. It wasn't as if Voldemort had sent an owl ahead to warn Dumbledore of his plans. Pulling his attention back to more important matters, Harry scanned the multitudes for the third years who'd been tortured and held prisoner. Nope... The professor who had saved the trio was nowhere to be seen either. Harry surmised the man was already up at the Hospital Wing, delivering the kids to Pomfrey's tender mercies.

Harry sighed, queries and suspicions whirling around dizzingly in his brain. Why was the Order not informed immediately? Had the professor been there the whole time? And if not, how had he known about the attack? Would Dumbledore be able to prevent this oversight in the future?

Harry felt a sudden tug on his shirt, and looked around at Hermione questioningly.

"We're going up now," she whispered in a strained voice. Harry nodded in reply, noticing she too seemed discomfited. Harry knew how she must feel, worrying about 'what if's, but his anxiety had lessened some. Already, the pressure bearing down on his chest- fear, the sixteen year old realized- was being replaced with that calm feeling Harry got from coming home to the castle.

They headed off in the direction of the carriages, the mysterious thestrals gleaming iridescent against the night sky. Harry shivered as the trio approached the winged creatures that resembled oddly-configured hippogriffs, unpleasantly reminded of the fact that he alone had looked Death in the eye. Before climbing up into the stagecoach to join his friends, Harry glanced into one thestral's pearly, almost translucent eye. A strange sensation swept over his body- drawn deep into their gray depths, Harry watched on disturbed as a green flash of light flew at Cedric Diggory. The image muddied and shifted, now showcasing the dreaded archway room. Harry stared in horror as Bellatrix launched her fatal curse at his godfather. Like a broken record of his nightmares, Sirius was hit full force in the chest, laughter not fully gone from his face as he was lifted into the air and subsequently flung past the Veil. Then Cedric was being murdered-

Look away, look away! Harry told himself desperately. He wrenched his eyes away instantly, blinking a few times in the darkness. The ache in his heart returned, then a pain began pounding dully in his eyes. It took Harry a second to realize that his vision was blurry, pleading to release the moisture building up there. He swallowed the lump that had rose up in his throat with difficulty just as Hermione stuck her head out.

"Coming, Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry clambered up into the carriage just as it began pulling away. Clothed in total darkness, he settled onto the seat next to Ron. Fidgeting uncomfortably, the Boy-Who-Lived decided to pull open the blinds and stare up at the heavens. Lights of a thousand stars illuminated the youthful face playfully, though Harry's green eyes were anything but. He simply gazed morosely upward, scoping out various constellations. Leo, the Big Dipper, the Dog Star... Harry's heart gave another pang. Spirits sagging once more, he let the blind fall. The carriage was blanketed in darkness for a second time.

Ron and Hermione had been observing his face flash through different emotions like wildfire. With a nervous throat-clearing, Hermione was the first to break the silence.

"Harry... are you okay?"

Harry looked around quickly, suspicious.

"Why?" his carefully masked voice asked.

Ron answered next. "You've been real quiet the whole way, ever since we got off the train. Something bothering you?"

Harry didn't reply; he wasn't sure he wanted to discuss Sirius or anything related to that subject. Hermione, perceptive girl she was, came to the right conclusion immediately.

"You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" her soft voice nudged gently. A hidden compassion lay behind the words. Harry glanced down, chewing his lip in indecision. Should he answer and broach that wound? He and his friends hadn't talked much about Sirius, mostly due in part to Harry's staunch aversion around the subject.

"I... I guess, a bit. Dumbledore talked to me during the summer, and that helped a lot. But... sometimes the little things..."

"Harry, we know you must feel terribly," Hermione's voice broke in quietly, "but..."

Ron took over. "... But we just wanted to let you know that we'll be there for you through this whole ordeal, and we understand. Whenever you want to talk, we'll be ready to listen."

Harry's heart swelled in immeasurable gratitude. "Thanks," he mumbled. Though the other two couldn't see it, the boy was smiling.

oOo

The carriages halted with a jerk, and students descended their shelter in throngs, beginning the mass parade up to the castle. Talk was beginning to fill the night; slowly, everyone's initial shock was wearing away, fading into comfortable familiarity. They were home; they were safe.

As the wide, grand oak doors opened, Harry's heart leapt, rejoicing over the Hogwarts surroundings. It was such a welcoming feeling to be back in this place! Footsteps and laughing echoed; bouncing off the high ceiling. The large coterie of students moved in unison across the Entrance Hall, flooding into the Great Hall. Harry was trailing Ron and Hermione when he heard his name being called.

"Potter! Potter!" Harry turned to find Professor McGonagall beckoning him over to the staircase, First Year duties obviously done.

He trotted over obediently, gracing the old witch with an inquiring, "Professor?"

"I should like to see you in my office for a minute. Not to worry, you're in no trouble," she added at the look on his face. "It will be very quick, as I do not want to delay you from the feast too long." And with that, the Gryffindor Head of House whirled around and began marching up the stairs. Harry followed suit promptly, gesturing to his waiting friends to go on in without him.

As Harry struggled to keep up behind McGonagall- who was taking annoyingly long strides in a gait similar to Dumbledore's- he pondered the reason for this unexpected meeting. Last time, it was to check on his health. Harry certainly hoped this wasn't the case today, but news of the Death Eater ambush had undoubtedly reached her. And then, the boy blushed as he recalled their most recent encounter. He had cried all over her that time, and wasn't keen on rehashing the experience in her presence...'I mean, doing it in front of Dumbledore is one thing, he's just that type of person, but McGonagall... that's just plain embarrassing!' Harry thought wildly.

"Hurry up, Potter," McGonagall chided sternly. Harry, realizing he had been dawdling, jogged to resume his position in her wake. The pair stopped upon reaching their destination, and she pushed the door open with a jerk of the head ordering him inward. Tentatively, Harry entered the small room- most of his memories of this office ended with a reprimand or detention. He chose to seat himself down on the wooden chair in front of McGonagall's desk. She, on the other hand, went to stand behind the desk. For a moment, the female professor only regarded him with a swift, searching look.

"Are you alright?" McGonagall finally asked solicitously. "Professor Dumbledore informed me of the attack on the Hogwarts Express, as well as your involvement."

Inwardly, Harry groaned. Not another repeat of *this*! Surely she wouldn't try to send him to the Hospital Wing like third year? Malfoy would have a riot!

"Professor, I'm fine. Really! And I don't need to go to the Hospital Wing either," Harry tacked on desperately. To his surprise, she just chuckled.

"No, Potter, I will not make you go to the Hospital Wing. I daresay you've seen far too much of that place during your schooling here." Harry smiled and nodded back in relieved concurrence. "What I would like to hear is your account of what happened- every little detail is crucial. The Order was not aware of the ambush, so we need all the facts we can procure."

And so, Harry told his story for the second time that night, and by the end was weary with the constant retelling. McGonagall nodded, beady eyes narrowed as she appraised his features and obvious exhaustion.

"Thank you, Potter. Your information is valuable to the Order. You are free to leave now... Ginger Newt?" she offered, indicating the tartan tin of cookies that lay off to the side of her desk. Harry, now bordering on famished, took one gratefully. He then proceeded to slowly make his way down the stairs, munching on the Newt. The biscuits seemed a fancy of hers, much like Dumbledore and his lemon drops. He chuckled- teachers (at least magical ones) had such strange tastes.

oOo

Harry dropped into his usual seat near the end of Gryffindor Table, in between his two friends. Without further ado, they started interrogating him.

"McGonagall just asked me what happened on the train," he answered seriously. "Nothing apocalyptic, guys."

"Oh," Ron responded mildly, maybe even a little disappointed. "I was hoping we might get awards for our bravery, or whatnot."

"Nope. Not even one House Point!" Harry seethed playfully. Ron made a face, then turned back to his food with an eager gleam in his eyes. Harry did the same, hoping to satiate the hungry beast gnawing at his stomach. It seemed forever ago since breakfast! But just as he reached for a piece of mouth-watering chicken, the dinner victuals disappeared to be replaced with the dessert course. Harry pouted, but grabbed a treacle tart nonetheless.

"That's healthy," Ron muttered, rolling his eyes.

"They're my favorite," Harry retorted, sticking his tongue out at the red-head as he stole a couple more. "And you're one to talk!"

Ron just grimaced at him over his second helping of blueberry pie. Hermione made conversation with the boys as she consumed- at a normal pace- her Indian pudding. "You missed the sorting of the new first years, Harry." She inclined her head down the table to a bunch of awed and overwhelmed little kids. Harry remembered his first day at the castle as if it were only yesterday, and was able to relate to how they must feel. The first years were all looking with trepidation at the piles upon piles of food laying before them, as if wondering if they were allowed to eat it and how much.

"Hat say anything new?" Harry asked, tearing his eyes away from the little children. Hermione shrugged.

"It talked about the Houses needing to work together if we are to face our threat open-mindedly," she replied. "I agree; Inter-House unity would be a big advantage for our side if worst came to worst."

"You mean... like an attack on Hogwarts?" Harry elucidated, a painful feeling in his gut. Hermione nodded, but Ron snorted into his dessert.

"The hat is off its rocker! I mean, who knows how long that thing's been around; it's ancient," the ginger opined. "It went on and on about 'the foes within', 'be wary of your friends', and the need for 'Inter-House unity to defeat the perils we face.' What nonsense! The hat isn't asking Gryffindors to get cozy with Slytherins, is it? And what's all that 'beware your friends' stuff?"

"Obviously it's a warning, Ron. The hat lives with Dumbledore, so it hears and knows all sorts of stuff. It's giving good advice!"

"Whatever," the red-head muttered. They were broken off by the rising of Dumbledore. The wise old Headmaster outstretched his arms warmly, as if trying to embrace the whole room. His brilliant blue eyes blazed with the force of twinkle being emitted.

"Another year has come, soon to be filled with the art of learning, loving, and maturing! Ah, education of young minds is a wonderful thing. But now is not the time for teaching. Now is the time for introductions, warnings, and a bit of peace of mind. This year, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. May you all warmly welcome, Professor Livey Piremost!"

The mysterious hero from the train stood up, giving a small bow before sitting down again. Clapping ovation followed, and Harry noticed that Snape was lone among the teachers who gave the Defense professor a nasty glare, albeit with a reluctant twitching that could have been an attempt to clap. He nudged Ron.

"It's him!"

"Quiet, please," Dumbledore called, for much scattered whispering had ensued in response to the new teacher. Instantly, the Great Hall fell quiet. "There are a few other announcements I would like to make. Firstly, I am sure everyone has, by now, heard of the incident on the Hogwarts Express- or at least fragments of it."

Dead silence filled the air; a pin drop would have reverberated cacophonously around the Hall. All were hanging on to Dumbledore's every word like starving children in need of satiation.

"Eight students were injured in the course of action, and all are currently being tended to by Madam Pomfrey. I must ask you not to press them for details, as to some the experience was mildly traumatic. The attack on the Hogwarts Express is an example; an example of a small piece of the terror that lays beyond these walls. It shows to us the ever-growing need for acceptance; for tolerance. The dire necessity of unity... For without these, there is no chance of defeating Lord Voldemort (he ignored the flinches and gasps that rippled through the crowd). I shall repeat the words our Sorting Hat so excellently gave us: 'Divided we fall, united we stand'. To those who fought back on the train, I commend your bravery. I have heard many stories about students who took on the Death Eaters in an attempt to protect their peers. They are the epitome of all the Sorting Hat praised in humankind's resilience. I thank you with fifty points to each house," Dumbledore said, bowing lightly at the waist. "I would also like to reassure the student body that precautions have been taken to ensure an attack of this kind never occurs again. I am deeply sorry to any who suffered on account of my oversight, and I take fully the blame for this egregious err."

For a few seconds, no one moved as the light in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed. He seemed to be staring apologetically at everyone in turn. Harry shivered when the Headmaster met eyes with him, dearly wishing for the dead look in those blue eyes to leave. He was mollified when the twinkling reignited.

"And now, our regular announcements. Once again, Mr. Filch..."

Harry stopped listening at this point; he could barely count on two hands how many times Filch had goaded Dumbledore into reading aloud a list of tabooed items. It seemed every year the number bred rapidly... He turned to his friends.

"So, Professor Piremost is our new teacher," Harry stated contemplatively. "I sure hope he isn't like Umbridge."

Ron waved a nonchalant hand. "If he is, we'll just throw him to the centaurs."

Even Hermione laughed at that.

oOo

That night, Harry lay in his familiar four-poster bed, listening to the loud snores of his roommates as he stared at the royal maroon hangings. Another term had begun, bringing with it all the ups and downs of the teenage years- and not to mention a fresh ladling of danger to boot. It hadn't taken long for Ron and Hermione to return to their usual bickering, this time over proper prefecting practices. Harry rolled over, sighing and closing his eyes.

One of these days, Ron or Hermione was simply going to kill the other. That, or snog them senseless. It was hard to say.

Harry smirked at the image, drifting off into oblivion.

Oh, it was wonderful to be home.

Hope this chapter was worth the wait. The next one will be a bit more exciting emotionally. Stay tuned :)

Review, please!

AngelMoon Girl