Title: Irrumpo Ritus
Author: Chris Atola
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Dark and D. belong to Yukiru Sugisaki. I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit and will return them more or less intact when I'm done.
Warning(s): AU from Voldemort's resurrection ritual in Goblet of Fire.
Summary: What if Voldemort hadn't been resurrected in GoF? What if Harry had help in hunting down the horcruxes a bit earlier than in canon? AU from book 4 onward.
Note: Dark still only has a fairly minor part, but he'll play a much bigger role later on (not for a few chapters though, I think).
Chapter 4
"Bloody hell!"
"What?" Harry asked.
"...Prefect!" Ron uttered, after gaping for several long seconds. "They made me Prefect!"
And with perfect timing, the twins Apparated in right next to Harry's chair. By now Harry was so desensitised to this occurring that he didn't even twitch.
"We were wondering who set the Dorsey book," Fred commented.
"Because it almost looks like Dumbledore made Snape the new Defence teacher," George finished.
There was a collective shudder. After a moment Harry opened his own envelope and read the booklist. "Three new ones," he said, "Plunkett's Practical Potions by Carl Applegate, Defence for Dunderheads by Damara Dorsey and The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk."
The twins nodded, but Ron didn't react.
"What's up with you, Ron?" asked Fred.
Ron was still unresponsive. He was too busy gaping at the contents of his envelope. Fred impatiently moved around to look over Ron's shoulder, and his mouth promptly fell open. "Prefect?" he said incredulously. "Prefect?"
George lunged forward and snatched the envelope out of Ron's hand an upended it. A red-and-gold badge fell into his palm. "No way," he almost whispered.
"It's got to be a mistake," Fred insisted, grabbing the letter out of the envelope and held it up to the light.
"Nobody sane would make Ron a Prefect!"
"We thought he was bound to pick you, Harry," George said, indignant.
"Winning the Tournament and everything!" Fred added.
"I s'pose all the mad stuff counted against him," George mused aloud, looking at Fred.
"Yeah," Fred agreed, "Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate. Well, at least one of you has their priorities straight." He trotted over to Harry and clapped him on the back before turning to give Ron an almost scolding look.
"Prefect... ickle Ronniekins the Prefect."
Harry was just glad not to have the responsibility. Dealing with both whatever Dark's purpose here was and the responsibilities of a Prefect seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. In the back of Harry' head, Dark let out a loud snore.
Mrs Weasley was overjoyed at Ron's news and bought him a broomstick while in Diagon Alley buying everyone's school books. Ron accepted it with a pleased smile shortly before dinner, and carried on smiling right through the meal.
Lupin kept giving Harry odd, thoughtful looks, but never gave voice to his thoughts. Harry felt slightly nervous after the third such look, worried that maybe Lupin really was catching on. However, nothing came of it that night.
Harry slipped away as quickly as he could after dinner, but was delayed by Mrs Weasley's reaction to the boggart. When he finally made it into his bedroom he shut the door behind him and slumped against it, sliding to the floor with a drawn-out sigh. He was already developing a headache, which was further exacerbated by his scar flaring up in pain only a few moments later.
Harry grumbled and rubbed his forehead, thoughts revolving around the photo Moody had shown him and how those people had been blissfully unaware of their imminent fates. He had never felt as old and weary as he did at that moment. In his head, Dark finally awoke and momentarily drew Harry's thoughts away from the people in the photograph.
What's wrong?
Harry heaved a great sigh and said, Moody. He showed me a photo of the original Order and it just really got to me, seeing all those people. They had no real idea they'd be dead soon after. And Neville's parents... It just hit me: we're heading into a war.
Don't worry, you're not alone. I'm not going anywhere, and you've still got your friends.
Okay, who are you and what have you done with the sarcastic voice in my head? Harry asked, slightly cheered. Vaguely guilty, embarrassed silence answered his question. After a moment Harry murmured, Thanks, Dark.
Dark gave no reply. After a moment Ron came in and they went to bed.
Harry later recalled the following morning as a blur of packing, scrambling for breakfast and re-packing to include previously-forgotten items. Finally they were ready and made the twenty-minute journey to King's Cross on foot because, of course, the Ministry was not providing transportation. Harry was thankful that he had sent Hedwig off ahead of time, considering all the strange looks they had been getting from the other pedestrians in the area. After all, a group of people dragging trunks and carrying a small menagerie were hardly a common sight on the streets of London.
Once they arrived on platform nine and three quarters Ron and Hermione disappeared to the Prefects' compartment with apologetic looks and promises to return as soon as they could, and Harry was left to find a compartment with only Ginny (and the perpetually-sleeping Dark) for company. Since it was so early he had no problems finding a completely empty compartment at the back of the train, where Ginny joined him at first. After about ten minutes, however, she decided to go and find one of her friends and left him with a whole compartment to himself. Shortly before the train left Harry was joined by a small crowd of first-years who mostly ignored him and chattered away amongst themselves.
After another hour Ron and Hermione returned and they struck up a conversation on the coming school year, who they thought might be the new Defence professor, ("Snape. It's got to be!" said Ron, "Just look at the book title!") and how they were going to survive with Malfoy as one of the Prefects.
"I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something!" Ron exclaimed. "I want to get Malfoy's friends – if you can call them that – before he gets mine. Next time I catch those prats picking bullying somebody I can give them lines. They'll hate that!"
"You're not going to start abusing your position, are you Ron?" Hermione prodded Ron with a clear warning in her voice.
"N-no, of course not," Ron replied, almost cringing. When Hermione looked away he leaned toward Harry and whispered, "She's been spending too much time with Mum!" Hermione looked in Ron's general direction and he promptly sat up straight and tried to look innocent. She looked unconvinced but said nothing.
Harry smiled slightly and looked out the window.
After a few hours the train finally slowed to a halt and, having already changed into their school robes, Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way out of the train and over to the carriages. Harry came to an abrupt stop a few metres away from the carriages and stared warily.
"What are those horse things?"
"What horse things?" Ron asked, confused.
"The horse things pulling the carriages!" Harry exclaimed, impatient. "Can't you see them?"
"There's nothing there, mate," Ron told him, bewildered.
Harry, utterly confused, got in the nearest stagecoach and said no more on the subject. Am I going mad? He wondered.
No, Dark answered him, I saw them too.
So what are they? Harry asked.
Dark's only answer was a mental shrug. Harry shook his head and paid attention to Ron and Hermione, who were looking at him oddly.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione wanted to know. "Your eyes went all glassy."
"...Nothing," said Harry. After a little while, perhaps a quarter of an hour, the carriages slowed to a halt near the flagstone steps leading to the main doors of the school. Harry was the last to exit the coach and warily watched the strange, reptilian horse-creatures out of the corner of his eye as he made his way up to the doors.
The ceiling of the Great Hall depicted a beautiful, clear night sky with bright twinkling stars. Harry paused for just a moment to watch it, before catching himself and walking to the Gryffindor table. As he sat down between Ron and Hermione he thought she seemed to be giving him yet another strange look.
"Harry," she said, "Are you alright? You haven't paid that much attention to the ceiling since first year!"
"I'm fine, Hermione, just thinking," he assured her.
At that moment the Sorting Hat started its song and no more was said on the topic. Instead there was much discussion of the Hat's warning, and the unusually lengthy song.
"What do you s'pose it meant?" Ron wondered.
The ensuing contemplative silence lasted for the remainder of the Sorting.
After the last, terrified first-year had been sorted into Hufflepuff, Dumbledore stood up and began his greeting.
"To our newcomers, welcome! To our old hands: welcome back!" Dumbledore beamed, "I have a whole speech planned out for you, but first – tuck in!" Appreciative laughter rang out along with a smattering of applause as the feast appeared on previously-empty platters and trays.
Nearly Headless Nick happened to float by just as the Gryffindors returned to the discussion of the Sorting Hat's song, and offered his own knowledge on the topic. "Oh, yes, the Hat has given warnings a number of times in the past, always when if felt the school was under threat. And its advice is always the same: stand together, be strong from within."
When all the students had finished eating Dumbledore stood to give his start of year announcements while the trays and platters magically emptied of their contents. "Well, now that we are all digesting another stupendous feast, I have a few announcements to make. The first-years should be aware that the forest on the grounds is expressly forbidden to all students – and a few of our older students should remember that, too.
"I have been asked by Mr Filch, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to inform you that magic is prohibited in the corridors between classes, and so are a number of other things. An extensive list of these things can be found affixed to his office door.
"There have been two changes in staffing this year. First, please welcome Professor Eupraxia Bland, who will be teaching Potions this year. I am also pleased to announce that Professor Snape shall be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts."
There was a horrified silence from all of the returning students in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, who knew just what Snape was like as a teacher. The first years and Slytherins, however, applauded loudly – the first years because they did not know any better, and the Slytherins because Snape was their favourite teacher.
Dumbledore went on to announce Quidditch tryouts on the following Wednesday and finally sent everyone off to bed. Ron and Hermione began gathering up the first-years and Harry, after getting the password from Hermione, started making his way to Gryffindor tower. Taking a few hidden shortcuts allowed him to avoid most of the usual pointing, staring and whispers that followed him around, and especially the accusing looks from those few who thought he had something to do with Cedric's death.
The rest of the evening was uneventful, and once Harry was stretched out in his comfortable four-poster bed it only took a short while for him to fall asleep.
The weekend before Monday, September fourth, was spent catching up with friends, showing first-years how to get to the Great Hall for meals, and generally getting ready for classes. A few people asked Harry about the Third Task, wanting to get their facts straight, but for the most part Harry was left in peace.
Eupraxia Bland, Harry decided, was a gaudily-dressed absolute walking disaster. There was something very wrong with every potion she had the class brew: this resulted in potions exploding left, right and centre. Her eye-searing wardrobe only exacerbated the problem by making it impossible for the students to see their potions reacting badly to an ingredient, which therefore prevented them from halting the reaction in its tracks. The problem truly came to a head two weeks into the new term when instead of setting the class to carry on brewing their current potion she called everyone to the front of the room and said,
"Now class, watch me as I show you how to brew the Strengthening Solution..." Professor Blank started adding pomegranate juice to the brew and Hermione groaned quietly.
"That's supposed to be salamander blood," she muttered just loudly enough for Harry to hear.
Mere moments after the juice was added the potion began making ominous noises and frothing over. Professor Bland continued talking while the potion turned neon green, and something told Harry to get under the table.
"Down!" he yelled, pulling Hermione down with him and most of the class followed his lead as the exploded violently and without further warning. Fortunately for the observing students (but unfortunately for Bland), the potion splattered only onto the teacher. Almost immediately multicoloured boils formed on Bland's skin, rapidly followed by her hair turning a bright, orangey red. The class watched in mixed horror and fascination as the boils began to burst, and toxic green slime covered the teacher's face. Bland shrieked in horror and ran out of the classroom, presumably in the general direction of the hospital wing. The class stood in silence for a few seconds, then filed out of the classroom – all except for Hermione who stayed behind long enough to clean up the mess made by the exploding potion.
"I reckon she won't be back to teaching today," Ron commented as they finally made their way up to the common room. Harry nodded wordlessly in agreement.
At the end of the lunch period one of the second-years approached Harry to tell him Dumbledore wanted to see him in his office, and told him the password. "Meet me in the unused classroom near the ladder to the Divination tower, at eight this evening," Harry told Ron and Hermione.
"Why?" Hermione asked.
"I'll tell you later," Harry said and hurried off to see Dumbledore.
As he reached the gargoyle Harry said, "Fazer Blue." The gargoyle grudgingly moved aside, moving irritatingly slowly.
Dumbledore looked up as Harry entered and said, "Ah, Harry my boy, come in and have a seat. Lemon sherbet?"
"Er, no thank you, Professor. You wanted to see me?"
Fazer Blue (Fazerin sininen) is a brand of absolutely wonderful milk chocolate. If you ever get the chance to try it - don't miss out!
I'm sure you noticed I didn't reproduce the canonical song or try and write a new one. I didn't think I could do a convincing job of it, so I left it to the imagination.
I don't really do Evil!Dumbledore. Neglectful, yes, (see Foundling,) but I reckon he had the best of intentions even when making (big) mistakes. And I'm sure we all know the location that good intentions pave the way to...
Minor edit on January 2nd, 2012, to fix a mistake I made with Harry's class schedule.