This chapter is coming a little later than usual. I wish I had some exciting excuse to make for my tardiness, but the reality is that I simply had a graduation to attend. The next chapter will also be delayed, as I'll be staffing an anime convention this weekend. But I will get the next chapter out as soon as I can, and hope to resume my usual weekly schedule before long. Thanks for your patience!


Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Three - The New Professor

"Firs' years, this way!" bellowed Hagrid as Harry stepped off the train. They had arrived at the small station just outside the village of Hogsmeade. Though the sun had long since set, wrapping them all in a warm, late summer night, it was easy to make out the Hogwarts groundskeeper. He towered above the timid first-year students, who gathered in the golden glow of the lantern he held aloft.

Harry knew they would soon make their way toward the boats that would guide them across the Black Lake, there to behold the castle for the first time. But something was different tonight. Gone was the pink umbrella Harry remembered from his first year at Hogwarts, the one which Harry always suspected housed the broken pieces of Hagrid's first wand. Instead, Hagrid held a proper wand, though one that rather resembled a tree branch than a twig. With a few short words, he soon had the first-years arranged in a single-file line. Harry stared as the students passed under Hagrid's wand, each bearing terrified looks on their faces, as if one wrong move would send them right back on a train bound for home.

"I suppose extra security is to be expected," Ginny observed, stepping lightly off the train behind Harry. She nodded significantly toward the line of first years, "What with You-Know-Who back, and all."

"I guess so…" agreed Harry. He stared a moment longer, trying to catch Hagrid's eye, but soon gave up as it became clear that his friend was far too busy with the task at hand.

"Ginny! Hurry up! There's already a line for the carriages!" shouted another fifth-year girl.

Ginny gave her a wave, then turned to Harry once more. She stared at him with thoughtful eyes, then mumbled, "Well, be seeing you…"

Harry watched her disappear into the crowd. She had been rather quiet on the train after Harry told them all about the prophecy. She didn't need to say anything for Harry to know she would soon share what she had learned with Ron, and by extension, Draco. Harry sighed. He trusted his friends to keep what they knew a secret, and yet he was also fairly familiar with the Hogwarts Rumor Mill. He wondered how long it would take the truth to spill out, and spread over the rest of the school.

As the crowd on the platform grew, Harry was dragged from his thoughts as Blaise collided painfully into his side.

"Oi, what's the hold up?" he complained, craning his neck in an attempt to see over the mob of jostling students.

Harry rubbed his elbow in an attempt to ease the tingling sensation running up his arm. "New security measures, I think."

"Who've they got running things?" Millie grumbled, "A mountain troll?"

Her guess was not far off. When they finally reached the line of carriages waiting to pull students toward the school, they spotted Filch and two men in dark robes that Harry suspected were Aurors. While the two Ministry officials efficiently ran their wants over the students, their movements similar to Hagrid's, Filch badgered irritated individuals who had been pulled aside for suspected contraband.

"And what exactly are these?" Filch demanded of Luna Lovegood, who had somehow worked her way to the front of the line before the rest of them. He shook the pair of glasses Luna had been wearing on the train in front of her face.

"Those are Spectrespecs," Luna replied breezily.

"Spectrespecs!" Filch repeated as if she had just uttered a curse word. "Another Weasley product, no doubt…"

"No, indeed," Luna said, now sounding slightly miffed. "I got them from daddy's magazine."

"A likely story…" Filch seethed, "And what are they supposed to do?"

"They make wrackspurts visible to the wizarding eye," explained Luna.

Flich spluttered, "Wrackspurt? I've never heard of such a thing…"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Filch!" cried one of the Aurors, "We've already checked those twice! There's no sign of dark magic from the girl. Let her go so we can get a move on!"

Filch begrudgingly allowed Luna to pass, and the Spectrespecs miraculously escaped confiscation. The harried Aurors fortunately did not seem to recognize Harry, and after passing through their inspection, he soon joined Luna and Nell.

Once, Harry thought the carriages pulled themselves. But after his fourth year at Hogwarts, when he had witnessed the murder of Alastor Moody, he discovered that there were strange beasts attached to the harnesses, visible only to those who had seen death firsthand.

"Woah…" breathed Blaise, stopping short as he joined Harry's side. He was gazing directly at the thestrals. "So that's what they look like?"

It wasn't just Blaise who stood motionless before the carriages. Millie, Hermione, Nell… Everyone who had been with him in the Department of Mysteries the night that Sirius died. Harry hadn't realized it at the time, consumed as he had been by grief, but they all must have witnessed the moment that Sirius breathed his last.

Millie recovered first, tearing her gaze away from the skeletal horses with their leathery black wings to nudge Blaise in the side. She nodded covertly toward Harry, and soon Blaise was urging everyone into the carriage, acting as though nothing was amiss. Harry wanted to tell them that he was fine. In a strange way, he felt comforted that they could all see the thestrals now. Trauma can form bonds as strong as joy, and Harry was reminded all at once that no matter how much he was hurting, he wasn't alone.

He decided not to mention this somber topic, however. When the carriage began rolling, he decided to cut through the oppressive atmosphere by asking Luna, "So, what are wrackspurts, anyway?"

Luna seemed pleased that he had taken an interest, for she happily replied, "Oh! They're invisible creatures that float through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy."

"Run into a lot of those, do you?" Blaise asked. Nell promptly elbowed him in the side.

Hermione scoffed and muttered, "What nonsense…"

That caught Luna's attention, for she directed a rather steely look at Hermione, slipped the Spectrespecs back over her eyes, and observed, "Looks as though you have an infestation, Hermione. Might want to get that checked out."

It was so unexpected, and coming from Luna Lovegood of all people, that Harry couldn't help but giggle. This did not earn him points with Hermione, unfortunately. She kept silent for the rest of the ride, and when they finally entered the Great Hall, she parted ways with Harry without so much as a wave goodbye. With a sense of foreboding about the future of their relationship, Harry settled down at the Slytherin table with Millie and Blaise.

The Great Hall looked much as it always did for the start of term feast. The enchanted ceiling displayed the clear night sky, its twinkling stars vying with the floating candles to see who could shine the most brilliantly. Beneath all this splendor, arrayed on four long tables, sat rows of golden plates and goblets, waiting to be filled by the house-elves working in the kitchens below. Harry thought of Kreacher and wondered how he was enjoying his freedom, and whether he was giving Dobby any trouble.

The talkative students fell silent as Professor McGonagall marched into the Great Hall, holding the Sorting Hat and leading a small troop of first-years. There seemed to be fewer new students this year than in years past. Harry suspected that more parents had decided to keep their children home, or else send them to schools abroad, worried about Voldemort's second rise to power.

New students and old alike waited for the Sorting Hat to begin its annual song. Each year it was different. Usually, the hat did nothing more but introduce itself, and provide a description of the four houses. But last year a warning had been embedded in the lyrics, foretelling of danger to come, and cautioning students to unite against a common enemy.

Harry, like the others, waited with baited breath for the Hat to begin, but soon lost interest as its song carried on with the same dire warnings as last year, only more melancholy. He had heard all of this before. Instead, he cast his eyes further down the Slytherin table. Draco was sitting between Daphne Greengrass and her friend Tracey Davis. Harry assumed he'd taken an earlier carriage with Ron and Theo Nott, though he was curious to know whether they could now see the thestrals, too.

Further along, Crabbe and Goyle sat side by side, smirking thickly at the Sorting Hat's dire warnings. Pansy Parkinson sat across from them, and Harry couldn't help but notice that her usual gang of girls were keeping their distance.

At last, the song came to an end, and one by one the first-year students were called toward the three-legged stool on which the hat had been placed. Harry continued to stare at Goyle for some time, as if by doing so he could somehow read his thoughts. His concentration was broken only when he heard a familiar name.

"Greengrass, Astoria."

Harry turned his head and watched a waifish, pale girl with strawberry blonde hair sidled up to the stool and too, her place. The hat took a short time to deliberate, then a seam near the brim split open, and the hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

The entire table erupted into cheers, but without exception, Daphne was the loudest.

"That's my little sister!" she screamed, grabbing Draco by the shoulders and shaking him violently with all the exuberance of an affectionate sibling.

Draco accepted the abuse with good grace, and even offered Astoria a welcoming smile as she collapsed in the open spot next to Daphne. She, however, seemed too embarrassed to appreciate the warm reception she had received. Harry couldn't blame her. He was reminded of his own sorting, when he begged to be placed anywhere but in Slytherin. And while Harry no longer held regrets about his House, he wondered whether Astoria had asked to be sorted elsewhere.

While the sorting ceremony continued, Daphne began introducing her sister to all of her friends. When she finished with those closest to them, she went on to point out those further down the table.

"And that's Blaise, the one I told you about. And next to him is Millicent Bulstrode. She's not as scary as she looks, and then there's Harry Potter, of course…"

Harry gave her a wave. Astoria merely stared back, her mouth hanging open in awe. She wasn't the only one. As Harry turned away with a sigh, he spotted other students taking covert looks at him. Wanting to avoid eye contact, he fixed his attention on the staff table. Hagrid, freed of his security duties, waved jovially. Harry returned his greeting with a smile. Next to him sat Professor Trelawney. Harry was rather surprised to see her. The Divination teacher rarely came down from her tower, even for the start-of-term feast. Harry had been stunned to discover that it was she who delivered the prophecy about him and Voldemort. Feeling slightly superstitious, Harry avoided her magnified gaze, lest the mere sight of him trigger another spontaneous prophetic vision.

The next professor to attract his notice was Snape. He wasn't looking at Harry, though it did not appear to be deliberate avoidance this time. He was bending his ear toward Slughorn, who was talking animatedly while making grand gestures with both hands. Harry wondered that they could be talking about, but as usual, Snape's expression was impossible to read.

Harry had not seen or heard from the professor since his unexpected appearance at Sirius's funeral. Harry had mixed feelings about their reunion at Hogwarts. Though it had become his custom to tease the Potions Master about his history with Harry's mother, after the events of the preceding year, he really wasn't sure on what footing he currently stood with the professor.

Finally, the sorting was complete. Dumbledore rose from his own chair in the middle of the staff table, though his announcement was brief.

"Tuck in."

At once, the golden platters bloomed with all manner of delectable food. Gasps of wonder issued from the few first-years while sighs of appreciation escaped the older, hungry students. Harry busied himself taking a heaping portion of shepherd's pie when he heard a voice calling his name.

"Harry! Hey, Harry!"

Colin Creevy had somehow managed to maneuver both himself and his friend Herb Pandey so that only a few students sat between them and Harry. He was leaning eagerly forward, the expression on his face one of enthusiastic curiosity.

"Is it true what they're saying about you?" Colin continued, needing no invitation from Harry to begin, "Are you really the Chosen One?"

Herb paused in the act of taking a bite of some heavily seasoned sautéed spinach and potatoes to listen. Though he had more shame than his friend, and therefore was silent, it was clear he was just as interested in the conversation.

Harry was spared from having to answer the impertinent question by Blaise, who immediately came to his defense, saying, "You're not going to start following us around with a camera again, are you Creevy?"

Colin grinned and shook his head, "I wasn't planning on it."

"Good, because if I thought you were looking for information to sell to the Daily Prophet, I'd have Millie hex you."

"Do it yourself," Millie remarked, "Didn't you get an Outstanding in your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL?"

His friends had so effectively turned the conversation that Harry was spared the necessity of directly answering anyone's questions regarding Lord Voldemort. Colin and Herb, now fifth-years themselves, were soon engrossed with the hints Millie and Blaise could give about their upcoming exams.

Once the savory dishes had been replaced by dessert, and the students had their fill of trifle and biscuits, Dumbledore rose from his seat once more. He opened his arms wide in his customary gesture of welcome, and in doing so revealed his blackened, injured hand. Whispers broke out across the hall before Dumbledore could readjust his sleeve. Harry remained silent and motionless, though beside him, Millie and Blaise's voices joined the anxious murmurs.

"Did you see that?"

"But… Don't you think… It sort of looked like…"

They both glanced at Harry. He didn't look at them. He didn't say a word. Though he had told them everything he knew about the prophecy on the train, he had conveniently neglected to mention that Dumbledore had been struck with the very same curse that affected Sirius. His friends were not stupid, however. He was sure they had made the connection. They would have questions for him later, but for now, they lapsed into silence with the rest of the students as Dumbledore pressed on with the start-of-term announcements.

"Welcome everyone to another year at Hogwarts," he began pleasantly, "Our new students will take note that the forest bordering the school grounds is forbidden. And our returning students will have noticed that there has been an increase in our security measures. You may be asked to comply with rules you may find irksome, but I assure you, this is for your own protection. I must therefore remind you all of our curfew. Students who are caught out of bed after hours will receive detention, and any use of magic in the halls between classes will be strictly punished.

"On that note, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has also advised me that he has put a blanket ban on all Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products." Dumbledore paused to allow a round of groans to pass from the students, many of whom arrived at Hogwarts with their pockets lined with trick wands, Nosebleed Nougat, and Decoy Detonators. "Anyone caught with these products will have them confiscated. Of course, that is only if you are caught with them…"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously before he continued, "Those who wish to play for their house Quidditch teams must give their names to their Head of House. Incidentally, we are also seeking two commentators for the matches. You may submit your request for these positions to Professor McGonagall.

"And now, for new staff announcements. Professor Slughorn has agreed to assume his former role as Potions Master…"

Slughorn rose heavily from his seat, though his stature was not much different whether sitting or standing. Once again, whispers broke out across the hall.

"Potions, did he say?" murmured Millie.

"But I thought…" Blaise hissed.

"And Professor Snape," continued Dumbledore over the noise, "has agreed to take on the Defense Against the Dark Arts role."

"NO!" shouted Harry, drawing shocked stares from all sides. He didn't care. He was glaring disbelievingly at Snape. How could he?

At the conclusion of Dumbledore's speech, which Harry paid not the slightest attention to, he sent them off to bed. Millie and Draco rose to perform their prefect duty of guiding the first-years to their dungeon common room, but Harry moved against the tide, walking purposely toward Snape at the staff table. Blaise called out to him, but was resolutely ignored.

"HEY!" Harry shouted before the professor could disappear through the staff exit.

Snape halted, his shoulders stiffening at the sound of Harry's voice. When he turned around, however, he met Harry's green-eyed stare with the utmost calm.

"Potter," he said sanguinely, "I assume you want to discuss your appointment as the new Quidditch Captain…"

Harry ignored this obvious attempt at distraction and confronted him with, "How could you take the Defense Against the Dark Arts post? Don't you know it's cursed?!"

Snape's lip curled ever so slightly. "There are not many competent instructors who will accept the role these days…"

"So it has to be you?" Harry persisted, "You'll just do whatever Dumbledore wants without question?"

"Potter, I hardly think…"

"Moody died doing this job!" Harry interrupted, positively seething, "So what? You're just going to leave, too?"

The vehemence of his outrage took his breath away, forcing Harry to stop, his chest heaving with effort it took to calm himself. Snape was silenced for a moment. Then he spoke, in an undertone meant only for Harry, his voice surprisingly gentle, "I have no intention of dying yet, Potter."

Harry was prepared to argue the point further. After all, he was sure that Moody and Sirius had no intention of dying, either. But before he could say another word, Hagrid came bounding over, lightly scolding Harry with the words, "What're yeh still doin' here, Harry? Push on, now! Everyone's already gone off ter bed, and yeh don' want ter be caught past curfew on yer firs' day! Didn' yeh hear Dumbledore's speech?"

Harry began to protest, but Snape had already used Hagrid's appearance as an opportunity to escape down the staff passageway.

Feeling dissatisfied and angry with Snape, he allowed himself to be led toward the entrance to the Great Hall. Hagrid didn't appear to notice his foul mood, though Harry supposed it was for the best. He was full of cheerful tidings about how his half-brother Grawp had been moved to a new home in the mountains.

"He's much happier there," Hagrid reported, beaming, "An' his English has improved. You oughta tell Nell. I know she was helpin' ter teach him. She'd be proud if she could see him now. I think I migh' train him up ter be my assistant in a few years…"

Harry wondered just how much of this was true, and how much was brotherly affection for the giant. Whatever the facts of the case may be, he smiled at Hagrid's tales, grateful that he could rely on at least one adult in his life to remain constant. He could always count on Hagrid's warm affection, both for Harry,, and all manner of dangerous beasts.

"Well then, I'll let yeh get off ter bed," Hagrid said, giving Harry a pat on his shoulder that made his knees buckle, "But we'll talk some more tomorrow! Yeh've got Care o' Magical Creatures firs' thing after lunch."

Harry grinned at him, and replied with genuine feeling, "I'm looking forward to it."