Chapter 6: Welcoming
Prefect duties discharged, Harry took a seat next to Ron in the train carriage the red-head had claimed, Hermione settling on his other side.
Across from them sat Neville Longbottom and a blonde Ravenclaw Harry didn't know. She had her wand behind her ear, which was certainly odd, but struck Harry as a vastly better idea than keeping it in a bookbag like some students did, so long as the wand stayed put. She was reading a magazine upside down, which Harry thought was also odd, but impressive. He'd been sufficiently bored a few times over the summer to attempt reading books held upside down. He'd found it tedious and time-consuming, and had kept having to turn the books right-side-up to make out difficult words.
He cocked his head to read the upside-down headlines, and pulse thudded in his ears when he deciphered the headline: Sirius Black: Villain or Victim?
Harry said, "Could I see your magazine?"
The girl smiled in the general direction of his left shoulder and handed him the magazine. Harry blinked at the news that Sirius was a retired rock-star named Stubby Boardman, and thought the bit about Fudge running a conspiracy against the goblins to be plausible except for the assumption that he was competent enough to do so.
Also, he couldn't imagine Fudge having goblins cooked in pies.
Ron, who'd looked at the magazine over Harry's shoulder, called the magazine barmy, then called the girl barmy when she called him narrow-minded. Hermione told Ron not to be rude, then she told the girl all about how she shouldn't believe such rubbish, then seemed at a loss when the girl kept believing it anyway.
Harry thought she was barmy too but didn't see any need to be rude about it.
"Harry Potter," said Harry, shaking extending his hand.
"Luna Lovegood," she said, shaking it.
"Loony Lovegood more like," muttered Ron, loudly enough that Harry guessed Luna had heard.
"Oh hush," said Hermione.
Luna said, in a detached, objective sort of manner, "Your sister is much nicer than you, and being nice isn't her greatest strength, really."
Before it could devolve into an argument, Harry said, "Hermione! Thanks so much for your birthday present. It's great." He pulled the prep-book from his bag and opened to the first spells page.
Hermione said, "I did make it for your birthday, that's why I went to the trouble of compiling it all, but now that I have..."
"You want to make duplicates?"
"I thought it might help Ron."
"Definitely. It'd be weird if we both had the prep-book and Ron didn't. And I was thinking. You should make a lot of duplicates, and then charm them against duplication, and sell them. Maybe a galleon each."
"I couldn't possibly. I'm just a student. It would be very presumptuous of me." She looked mortified, thinking about it.
"You're the best student in our year. When people find out about the prep-book, they're going to want a copy. Giving them to me and Ron and maybe Neville and Ginny or whoever else you call a friend is one thing. Giving them out to people who you hardly know or don't know at all? Charge them a galleon."
"A galleon would be too much even if I were selling, which I wouldn't." said Hermione
"A few sickles then. Wouldn't you like to have some pocket money that doesn't come from your parents? Burden them a little less?"
Hermione glared. "That's a low blow Harry. Besides, my parents are dentists and I'm an only child. Even with the exchange rate we're hardly poor."
Harry's eyes flicked over to Ron, Hermione caught his meaning, and they both breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that the red-head, eating a chocolate frog and talking to Neville, had missed the exchange.
Harry said, "Sorry. That probably wasn't the best tact. It'd be a learning opportunity though, wouldn't it? You wrote that you're interested by the idea of being a businesswoman. You might learn a lot trying it out on this sort of small scale."
Hermione bit her lip, frowning the frown that meant she was thinking it over, and Harry dropped the issue.
Harry took out three buttons, two pebbles, a metal hair-clip and matchstick, and started running through first-year charms and transfiguration spells.
They were all laughably easy from the perspective of a fifth-year, but he'd forgotten the wand movements and incantations for a few he hadn't much occasion to use since learning. Though now that he thought of it, the softening charm had had hardly any practical use for him when he couldn't cast it on anything bigger than his fist, but these days he could probably get a lot more use out of it.
Ron looked over as Harry floated all three pebbles at once (which was quite a lot harder than floating a single stone would've been), stared at the review book, and said, "You're already studying?"
Harry shrugged. "It's over two months since I've done any magic. I've been missing it."
#
#
The staff table was slightly larger than in years past. In addition to the typical staff, there was Mad-Eye Moody (the real one), still thin and pale from his ordeal, Horace Slughorn, and five faces he didn't recognize, none looking much older than Percy Weasley.
He turned his attention from them to the milling first-years waiting to be sorted, Professor McGonagall standing by the hat, ramrod straight, face as hard as stone, her version of trying to give off a relaxed, reassuring vibe.
"Abercrombie, Euan," she called.
The frightened little boy sat on a chair, the overlarge sorting hat was placed upon his head, barely held up by his ears, and a moment later the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
The Gryffindor table cheered. The boy jogged over. Harry shook the boys hand, introducing himself as "Harry Potter, fifth-year prefect," and Hermione introduced herself a moment later.
He nodded, overawed, and Harry hoped he'd like the kid-he'd be looking after him for the next three years, after all.
He sat the boy on one side of him, he and Hermione having already taken places amid the empty portion, planning to sit among the firsties.
The next Gryffindor was Ben Betlin, followed by "Crane, Artemis." The little girl strode confidently forward, tugged the hat onto her head a little tighter than she should've, and the hat cogitated a little longer than it had for most before declaring her a member of Harry's house.
The sorting continued. Delfought, Demeter going to HUFFLEPUFF!
"Morningsdotter, Athena," went to Ravenclaw. The hat spent longer on "Paxlator, Hekate," than anyone else. Finally, it said, "SLYTHERIN!" and little Hekate swept the hat off her head and bowed low to the crowd before returning it to Professor McGonagall and making for the Slytherin table.
Harry laughed and clapped for her, wishing the girl with the audacity for that had been sorted into his house, though presumably the sorting hat knew what it was up to.
To cap it off, Zeller, Rose, went to Hufflepuff, Dumbledore welcomed everyone, and the food appeared.
Harry counted the students. Sixteen first-year Gryffindors. Nine boys and seven girls.
His own year-mates numbered only nine. And come to think of it, the years above and below all had more, though none of them by so much.
He cast a glance at Hermione. "Birthrates fell during the war, and then a baby boom after?"
She nodded fractionally. "Plus, with more and more muggles there's more and more muggle-borns. And magical immigration is approaching pre-war levels, though blood-purism, which is stronger in Britain than in many other..."
Hermione continued, seguing into the still weak but slowly recovering tourism industry.
Harry gave half an ear over to listening, focusing more on eating and on the first-years. He was only four years older, but they seemed very young to him.
He turned to the boy closest to him, small and dark-haired. "You're Ben, right?"
"Yes."
Harry wasn't sure what else to say; asking muggle-borns to raise their hands might not come off well.
Hermione spoke loudly enough to be heard by the first-years. "I was ever so excited when I was sorted. I'm muggle-born, you see, so I'd never seen so much magic before."
That got them discoursing about their families, and Harry kept track. He'd been bewildered by the wizarding world the first few months, depending on Ron to explain everything, which probably hadn't been the best.
Five purebloods, and six half-bloods. Approximately. Separating the purebloods from the halfbloods took a bit of guessing. Five muggle-borns, which seemed like a lot.
Ben said, "I won't be behind, will I? Being muggle-born and all."
Hermione said, "Have you read your textbooks?"
"I've looked over them quite a lot. I wouldn't say I've read them."
"That's where you should start," said Hermione. "If you want to do well."
Harry opened his mouth to say that he was a prefect now and he hadn't read his textbooks before his first year either. But he wished his eleven-year-old self had read them, it would've made the year easier, so he said, "Hermione's right. She's the biggest bookworm in my year and also the best student. That isn't a coincidence. You don't have to take it as far as she does, but if you don't like reading or you're not good at it, you should fix that."
Artemis said, "I like reading fine. But novels mostly. The textbooks..."
"The textbooks are very interesting, really, if you think about them properly," said Hermione.
Harry said, "The textbooks can be dry. Thinking helps. You might enjoy other books from the library on the same subjects. We'll show you the library tomorrow."
Anne Innsy said, "Sir."
"Call me Harry."
"Harry, where's the loo?"
The nearest loos were just outside the Great Hall, normally, but Hogwarts did move them from time to time and it was ridiculously easy to get lost in the castle, so Harry said, "I'll show you."
Anne and Jim followed him out of the Great Hall, and the loos were nearly where they were supposed to be.
Jim finished first.
Harry led them back and had just retaken his seat when one of the firstie boys said, "Where's the loo?"
Harry grimaced, Hermione said, "I'll take care of it this time," and Harry took the chance to eat. The food at Grimmauld Place had been good, but what the Hogwarts house-elves produced was a step or two up. Hermione said it was like eating at a 15 pound a plate restaurant every meal. Not that Harry had ever been in such a place.
Dumbledore rose and the hall fell silent. His eyes twinkled as he took in the students, and embarked on the longest speech Harry had ever heard the headmaster give. "This is an unusual year at Hogwarts. A year of progress and change. The funds from last year's Tri-Wizard tournament, along with a most generous donation from Lucius Malfoy and the entire Malfoy family, have enabled us to expand our programs. It's my privilege to introduce Mr. Jack Morfing, Assistant Professor of Transfiguration. Miss Elizabeth Mendez, Assistant Professor of Charms, Mr. Kurt Moon, Assistant Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Miss Jennette Nearly, Assistant Professor of Potions, and Miss Katherine Wallygomit, Assistant Professor of Herbology."
The young people at the staff table rose as Dumbledore called their names. As they and the applause ended, Dumbledore continued, explaining that the various Assistant Professors would be occupied mainly with the younger years, allowing all students to receive more one-on-one attention, and Harry commented to Hermione that he wouldn't mind if Miss Jennette Nearly took over their OWL potions class, fully qualified or not.
Dumbledore said, "In addition to these additions to our pure academics, it is my pleasure and honor to introduce Mr. Horace Slughorn, former Hogwarts Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin House, now Hogwarts Director of Extra-Curriculars. Mr. Slughorn, if you would."
Slughorn rose, Dumbledore clapped, and the students followed his lead in polite applause.
Slughorn spoke as the tepid applause trailed off. "It's wonderful to be back here in Hogwarts, where I resided for so many long years. I can only hope that I can give back as much as I've been given. First, I'd like to introduce Miss Penelope Clearwater, Assistant Director of Extra-Curriculars."
A pretty, dark-haired woman rose and bobbed her head. There was a scattering of applause, she sat, and Slughorn continued. "We'll have a variety of evening and weekend workshops. Basic healing. Housekeeping and magical cooking. Family life. Personal finances. Wards. Spell creation. Algebra, calculus and non-euclidean geometry. Ballroom dancing, art, wandmusique, and literature. Those who complete a workshop series will receive the relevant certificate of completion."
Hermione was hanging on his every word, and was hurriedly scribbling in a little notebook.
Slughorn said, "But it won't all be educational. We'll have competitions. Chess, entertainments, golem wars, the whole kaboodle. And best of all, there will be three dances."
The Hall broke into a chatter even larger than that at the previous year's Yule Ball announcement.
"Fourth-year and up, younger years by invite only. A harvest masquerade on October 21st, a Yule Ball, this time occurring before the Holiday break, and the spring dance."
The hall grew louder, most of the girls looking as if they'd never heard better news, most of the boys looking horribly nervous.
Hermione sniffed, "Everyone's acting as if that's the most important part."
Harry said, "You enjoyed it last year."
"Yes, but it's not important. And don't tell me you're happy about this."
"Not really, but I made such a hash of it last year that I like the idea of a do-over. I didn't learn to dance, I was a horrible date, and I waited too long on asking. Speaking of which." He leaned close and lowered his voice. "Would you like to go to the Harvest Masquerade with me?"
Hermione gaped, and Harry raised an eyebrow, trying to appear calm, though his heart was pounding and he felt oddly pinched. He couldn't believe he'd actually said it. From the way she was staring, she couldn't either.
Harry said, "Think about it."
Dumbledore spoke. "Thank you, Director Horace Slughorn."
As Dumbledore gave his usual spiel on school rules, Harry kept glancing at Hermione, who looked surprised and bewildered, which nearly made up for how dreadfully nervous he was.
They were dismissed to bed, and Harry and Hermione led the first-years off, taking, as Cedric had said, the long way around so they could see a bit more of the castle, and to tire them out so they wouldn't be up all night talking about the sorting.
Hermione treated it as a tour, discoursing on whatever they passed-historical notes, classrooms, various enchantments, where passages went. Harry hung at the back, pointing out the loos and gently pushing ahead students who fell behind.
The students, even the purebloods, ooed and ahhed when a staircase switched to a different hall. Artemis said, "Isn't that dangerous?"
Harry said, "Falling off is not lethal, but the experience is is unpleasant. For more information, contact Seamus Finnegan."
They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and Hermione said, "Mimbulus Mimbletonia."
The students clambered through the portrait hole into a mostly empty common room, and Harry led their boys to their dorm as Hermione led the girls to theirs.
"Breakfast will be served from 6:30 to 9. The first few times you go through Hogwarts by yourself, you will get lost, so we will proceed down together. We'll gather in the common room at 7:15," (7:30 in reality, but they didn't need to know that) "and from there proceed to breakfast. The loo is through there." He pointed. "Any questions?"
Euan said, "Did you really defeat a dragon?"
"No, I just survived stealing from one. Anything else?" After a moment of silence, Harry said, "Good night, and welcome to Gryffindor."
He closed the door, and caught Hermione's eye, standing on the opposite hall.
The went down their respective stairs, meeting in the common room, and Hermione dragged him off to a private nook. She whispered, "You asked me to the Masquerade."
"Yeah. So. Do you wanna go?"
"Why did you ask me?"
"So you'd go with me, hopefully. Will you?"
She half glared. "I'm thinking about it."
Hermione went up the stairs to the girls' dorm, looking back at him several times, and Harry let out a breath. He hadn't said quite what he was supposed to, but his voice hadn't cracked and he hadn't stuttered or said uh, er or um. A massive improvement on how he'd invited Cho last year.
He checked to see no one was looking or in hearing distance, withdrew a mirror from his pocket and said, "Padfoot."
After a moment, Harry's reflected face was replaced by the cheerful visage of Sirius Black. They'd tried it out a couple times before, but Harry was relieved to see that it worked even through the Hogwarts wards.
Harry said, "You know how you said I should ask Hermione out as soon as they announced the first Hogsmeade weekend?"
Sirius's eyes narrowed. "You did it already?"
"They announced a dance for October, a masquerade, so I asked her. She said she'd think about it."
Sirius nodded approvingly. "Quick work. Well done. Thinking about it though... that's usually prologue to a no. Not always. Don't push, but be nice. Remember, if she asks you why, none of that malarking around with 'who else would I go with,' or 'we should go together because we're friends.' You fancy her and you want to see where it goes. Got it?"
"Got it."
#
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Harry woke early, sat on the edge of his bed, meditated for twenty minutes, then changed clothes and went for a very short run-just up and down a long flight of stair for ten minutes.
He returned to his dorm, performed a few hygiene charms to clean off the sweat he'd worked up, and used the Levitation Spell to get his school robes on, which took a few minutes, then slipped inside the firsties' room.
He rousted them.
"Rictusempra, rictusempra, rictusempra, rictusempra."
The room filled with shrieks as the tickling charm struck the students, and Harry cast quickly, aiming to get all nine boys before they'd properly woken.
"Rictusempra, rictusempra, rictusempra, rictusempra."
Only Ben avoided it, rolling off the side of his bed to dodge, and Harry said, "Well done Ben. One point to Gryffindor. Now get ready, get dressed, we're going to breakfast."
Twenty-five minutes later all the first-years had gathered in the common room.
Harry said, "Listen up. You're Gryffindors now. Gryffindor is the house of the brave, but that doesn't mean it should be the house of the reckless or hot-headed. Sometimes the bravest choice is to swallow your pride and ask for help. Sometimes it's to apologize. Sometimes it's to buckle down and learn what you're afraid you can't. Sometimes it's to be kind to those who are mean to you. One thing that definitely isn't brave is breaking the rules for no reason. If you do break the rules, it should be for a good reason and you should have thought about it."
"Harry!" said Hermione.
"What? It's true."
Hermione shook her head and lectured the kids on the rules, which was why they'd gathered early in the first place. Curfew, library books, prohibited items, and the Weasley twins. They repeated the password several times, promised not to write it down or tell it to anyone who wasn't in Gryffindor, and Harry and Hermione lead them to breakfast.
#
#
When they'd at last handed off the firsties to Professor McGonagall for orientation, Harry let his head hit the dining table. "Looking after them is twice as fun as I expected and ten times as exhausting."
Hermione gave his hand a squeeze. "Makes me empathize with the teachers a little." Then she looked at their hands, turned slightly red, and tore her hand away. She said, "We won't need to spend as much time with them as the year goes on. We'll eat lunch with our yearmates."
"Good. We're doing a lot more than I remember Percy doing. Who was the girls' Prefect anyway?"
Hermione had to think. "Sandra Brownboar. She did her rounds, but that was it. Even the girls saw more of Percy than of her. Percy wasn't bad, but let's be better prefects than either of them. Do you want me to look over your summer homework?"
"Remus already did. He made me re-write a couple essays."
Hermione put on a pleading expression and Harry rolled his eyes. "You enjoy correcting my homework, don't you? It gives you some weird pleasure. Alright. I promise you'll be proud. I'll even look over your homework and marvel at its brilliance. Hey, Ron."
The red-head, sitting several seats down, next to Neville, said, "Swhat? M e-eing."
"Chew before responding," said Harry. "Let's check each others' homework this afternoon."
Ron swallowed. "I haven't finished mine."
Hermione said, "Ronald Weasley, you had all summer."
"Classes don't start till Monday. Plenty of time."
Hermione said, "How much have you done? There was more than usual, I guess since it's our OWL year. It took me at least forty hours, all told."
Ron looked quite nervous, but said he'd done most of it.
Harry said, "I reckon it took me over twenty hours. I'm sure I didn't revise or research as much as Hermione."
Ron said, "Right, Hermione, let me look at yours."
"That's cheating," said Hermione.
"I won't copy, I just want to see what you wrote."
"And paraphrase the main ideas, I'm sure. That's still cheating."
As they argued, a brown owl landed on the table. Harry untied the little note.
Harry, see me.
-Dumbledore.
#
#
Harry sucked on the sherbet lemon, wondering why Dumbledore liked them so much.
Dumbledore handed him a silver ring inset with a small black pearl. "This prevents you from being spatially relocated without your consent. In order to use a floo, a portkey, or be apparated, you'll have to allow it. The ring is also a portkey with three locations."
Harry slipped the ring on his middle finger, next to the ring that changed temperature when someone pointed a wand at him. A tendril of of awareness crept up against the edges of his mind, not invading, just touching, reminding him of the toaster at Grimmauld Place.
Harry said, "The gates of Hogwarts, the stoop of Grimmauld Place, and, what's this third location? Beneath an oak tree?"
Dumbledore said, "A randomly chosen spot in the Welsh countryside. A place with no connection to you or me or anyone but an arthritic muggle shepherd named Steve."
Dumbledore handed Harry an armband. At a nod from the Professor, he put it on, and it sunk into his skin, disappearing entirely.
"If someone attempts to take your blood against your will, they'll get fake blood instead. If added to the potion Voldemort was using, the potion will burst into flame when Voldemort is placed within the cauldron."
Placed within the cauldron? It was nice to know that if Voldemort captured him the resurrection ritual probably wouldn't work, but preventing himself from being captured in the first place was definitely the preferred plan. "Do you really think he'll reuse the same plot?"
"It's possible. I've yet to find his mother's body, and I'm unsure whether I ever will. We would be very foolish indeed if he made a second attempt at the same ritual and we were unprepared for it. The best preparation, however, is for you to become someone he cannot capture. Have you read all the books I recommended?"
"Yes." With a thud, he set a canvas bag of books on Dumbledore's desk. "I've gotten my own copy of all the ones I borrowed."
"Excellent. You'll have to meet with Professor Snape once a week for occlumency practice, but I'd rather it were not known that such is taking place. I trust you to arrange the detentions responsibly."
Harry contemplated the multitude of ways he could get a detention from Professor Snape. "I'll have fun with that."
"I hope you plan to attend the extra-curriculars."
Most of them sounded good, but it wasn't as if he wasn't going to be busy enough already. "Some of them. The ones on magic."
Dumbledore said, "All of them. Especially the ones that aren't on magic."
Harry frowned. Art and music sounded nice, but they wouldn't keep him alive if the year was like any other.
"You've read the book on deific magic I gave you?"
Harry thought of everything it had to say on mental states and emotional depth. "I'll do the literature class at least."
"Excellent. As to your prefect duties, I assure you there are many ways to use the time spent on your rounds productively. Especially with the assistance of a map.
"As for that. It seems that in the 1300s and 1400s, an extensive and ingenious series of tracking wards was laid upon the castle, taking over a century to be completed, and were subsequently improved in later centuries. In the 1800s, Headmaster July Cloud hid the wards as she did not trust her successor, Mr. Nigellus Black, to use them properly, and they remained unknown ever since. The Marauders co-opted them, though they did not understand what they had done and never worked out why their map worked so much better than expected."
Dumbledore gestured to a cabinet. "I've made my own copy, with certain modifications. Rather than intruding upon the privacy of students and staff by watching it, I've set up alerts. It alerts me if someone is in the castle who isn't supposed to be here, if people disappear, if people spend substantial time in certain places-Myrtle's bathroom, for example-if someone doesn't move for a long time, et cetera.
"As for your map." Dumbledore set the old parchment on his desk. "Normally, a student would have no business with such a device. But you've ended up in life-threatening situations on a yearly basis, so I'm making an exception. I expect you to use it responsibly. I've added several secret passages, but you'll have to find secret rooms on your own. Once you do, they'll appear on the map."
Harry said, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," tapped it with his wand, and nothing happened.
"Additional security precautions. If you'd place your hand on the parchment..." Harry did so, and Dumbledore moved his wand over the hand in loops and squiggles. Harry tried to feel what he was doing, but it was horribly complex.
After a full minute, Dumbledore said, "It's keyed to you. You'll have to bring in Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley if you want them to be able to use it."
That was a pain, but he should probably do it.
"Now, Harry, these dreams you're having have made me quite curious about this odd connection you have with Voldemort. Do you have any speculations?"
He'd spoken to Remus and Sirius on the subject, and skimmed over a number of books they'd recommended. "I assume whatever happened on Halloween all those years ago created a liefnote or even some sort of strange soul bond, though the idea of being soul bonded to Voldemort..." He let the idea hang.
"A superposition would also explain the symptoms, though some awkwardly. I would be reluctant to investigate if Voldemort were embodied, as the strength of the connection seems to vary with both his power and his proximity, but he is wounded, incorporeal, and far away, so, with your consent, I'll risk it."
Harry nodded, and Dumbledore stepped forward, the tip of his ornate wand drawing shapes in the air millimeters over Harry's scar. He recognized a few cursebreaking diagnostics, but none of the other spells, and before long he closed his eyes, preferring darkness to the close view of Dumbledore's beard.
The tip of the wand touched his scar. It was very cool, right at the edge of unpleasantness, like an ice-cube felt through a towel.
The angle of the wand changed, and sensation transformed.
"Does that hurt?"
"It feels yellow."
"Focus on your occlumency, not to block any effects, but to suss them out."
More scraping of Dumbledore's wand over Harry's scar. A strange heat and pressure pushing into his head.
"Anything?"
Harry said, "I'm more irritated than I should be." His nails were digging into his palm.
The pressure receded. Harry opened his eyes as he heard Dumbledore step back.
Harry said, "Suss anything out?"
"I have more questions. There's no rush; I'll ask them once Severus is satisfied with your occlumency."
Harry waited for an explanation, and Dumbledore said, "You're free to go."
:::
Common fantasy tropes imply that 'naive' is synonymous with 'good.' I think this is stupid. I hope to create a Harry who is realistic, effective, self-aware, decisive in the face of the dreadful algebra of necessity, and unambiguously good.
My plan is for Harry and Hermione to date for a while and then break up. But, y'know, JK Rowling had a plan for Ron and Hermione to get together, and for Harry and Ginny to get together, and then she wrote the story and it seemed to many like Harry and Hermione were a perfect fit.
I think going ahead with her original plan was a mistake, and I promise not to make it too. If the break up doesn't feel right, I won't make it happen, plot be damned. You're in as much suspense as I am.