We do not own Harry Potter. Just a few OCs.
Chapter 2
Harry Potter felt an odd sense of loss as he watched his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, drag their trunks towards the front of the train where the Prefects sat. Now it was where they sat, as they had been made Prefects themselves last year, and although he was very happy for them, Harry had a feeling he might not be seeing them as often as he used to. The thought made him sad, but he pushed it away, remembering that he had his other friends, including Ginny, Ron's little sister, and Neville Longbottom.
As if the thought had summoned her, Ginny appeared at Harry's shoulder. Come on," she encouraged. "If we get a move on we can save them some seats."
Harry shook himself out of his thoughts and nodded. "Right," he said abruptly; he grabbed his trunk in one hand, Hedwig's cage in the other, and followed the redheaded girl down the corridor in search of an empty seat. In the last carriage they mat Neville, whose face was strained from the effort of pulling his trunk along while keeping Trevor the struggling toad in a tight grip.
"Hi Harry, Ginny," he greeted them breathlessly. "Everywhere is full… can't find a seat…"
"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked, glancing to her left. "There's room here. There's only Loony Lovegood…"
Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hi Luna," she said, with a halfhearted grin. "Can we take these seats?"
Luna looked up slowly, her pale eyes regarding them with faint interest. Harry could see at once why Neville had chosen to overlook this compartment. Luna had an obvious aura of dottiness about her. Her waist length dirty blonde hair was scraggly, she had her wand behind her left ear, and the magazine she was reading was upside down. She let her gaze wander over the three newcomers with her pale eyes, and when they settled on Ginny, she nodded.
"Thanks," Ginny said, and the three of them piled into the compartment and sat down.
Harry instantly wished he chosen a different seat; as it were, he was directly across from Luna, whose unblinking eyes regarded him with indifferent curiosity. It was quite unsettling, and he started slightly when she spoke.
"I know you," she murmured in a dreamy voice. "You're Harry Potter."
"I know I am," Harry replied slowly, suppressing a snicker at her naivety. Of course she knew him, everyone at the school knew him.
Neville, listening to every word, couldn't suppress his slightly amused snort at Luna's comment. The pale Ravenclaw girl turned her gaze from Harry—to his relief—and onto Neville. "I don't know you," she commented.
"I'm nobody," Neville said quickly, a bit panicked.
"Of course you're not," Ginny protested hotly. "He's Neville Longbottom, I'm Ginny Weasley, and you already know Harry—"
She broke off when someone tapped on the door of their compartment. Harry glanced up to see a boy about his age and a girl younger than Ginny standing outside the door, looking quite embarrassed to be bothering, but they didn't move when Ginny stood and pulled the door open.
The older boy spoke. "Hey… um, I was just wondering if there was any room in here… Everywhere else is full and we don't know anyone yet. " His stormy grey eyes implored them hopefully, and Ginny turned to make sure no one would object to their joining them.
"We can make room if Ron and Hermione come back," Harry consented, and Neville agreed. Luna didn't say anything, just watched them, paying slightly more attention to the boy's wavy, mid-back length hair, which seemed confused as to whether it was supposed to be dark brown or blond. Ginny nodded and moved aside to admit the two.
"Thank you," the boy said gratefully as they stepped in. "There was only one other place, but the three boys there wouldn't let us join them. Said they were too busy 'making plans.'" He sat down in the seat across from Harry—Harry had slid over in his seat unnoticed—and the girl sat next to him, her eyes wary.
Ginny was first to introduce herself, then proceeded to do the same for everyone else. When she had said what year everyone was and what house they were in, she asked, "So, who are you two? I don't think I've seen you before, but I don't know the entire school. What house are you from?"
"I'm Ammon Pendleton, and this is my sister Avery," he replied. "This is actually our first year at Hogwarts, but we were transferred from the Sarah Good Academy of Magic. We're exchange students. Back in America, I'm in the house of Lockwood. Avery's in the house of Sturgis."
Ginny nodded. "How do they sort people over in America?"
"The teachers will use a form of occlumency to get a feel for the personality of the student, who is then sorted based on that information. The house of Lockwood is for the ones most hungry for knowledge. The house of Sturgis is for the most bold. The house of Culpepper is for the loyal and friendly. The house of Van Buren is where the most persistent of people are sorted. What about Hogwarts?"
Harry explained Hogwarts' four houses. Ammon found the similarities between Sturgis and Gryffindor, Lockwood and Ravenclaw, and Culpepper and Hufflepuff to be rather striking. However, the Slytherins were not quite similar to the Van Burens.
"Nearly every dark wizard who came from Hogwarts was in Slytherin," Harry explained. "It dates back to when one of the founders, Salazar Slytherin, asked the other founders to stop admitting Muggle-born students. They objected to this, and eventually a sort of civil war broke out between his house and the others. He eventually was forced to leave Hogwarts and never return. But to this day, there's still a rift between the Slytherin students and those of the other houses."
Ammon frowned, troubled by the fact that a dispute from a millennia ago had caused such lasting friction. Of course, houses at the Sarah Good Academy would sometimes take their quidditch rivalries a little too far, but such tension never lasted too terribly long. And it certainly was not the case that one house had a much worse reputation than the others; aside from Culpepper, the houses had turned out nearly identical numbers of dark wizards over the years.
Ginny changed the subject to something a little less somber. "Tell us about yourselves. How did you get your magic?" She paused momentarily. "Not that it'll affect our opinion of you, but are you purebloods?"
"Yes and no," Ammon replied. "Our mom and dad both have magic, but our family line is weird from Mom's side. One generation will have magic, but the next is usually full of squibs. The generation after that also lacks magic, but the one following has it, and then the cycle repeats. Except in this case, it skipped a generation because our dad came from a pureblood family." He chuckled. "Dad never did care much for pureblood tradition, or any sort of tradition for that matter."
Avery was quick-perhaps suspiciously quick-to change the subject, even though she had not said a word earlier. "What's Hogwarts like?"
That one question lasted the entire journey, as the newcomers listened intently to the others' descriptions of everything that happened at the school. The subject went from classes to teachers, and Hogsmeade and Holidays, the Forbidden Forest, spells, fellow students, magical creatures, legends, and everything else. While Harry and Ginny did most of the talking, Neville often piped in to add his part and Luna even commented a few times. Halfway through Harry's explanation of Quidditch, the snack cart came by, and soon they were all munching on Pumpkin Pastries, Chocolate Frogs, and the famous Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Following Ammon's unfortunate discovery of a vomit flavored bean ("This somehow tastes even worse than my Aunt Venus' sweet potato casserole!" He shuddered.), an incredible challenge game ensued in which each person had to guess a particular beans' flavor, then see if they guessed correctly. Not one was guessed right, and it wasn't long before everyone had tears streaming down their faces from laughing so hard.
All too soon, the trains' first whistle sounded, announcing the nearing of their destination. Harry heard Ammon's faint gasp as the castle came into view and saw the look of wonder on his and Avery's face. He grinned to himself, remembering how amazed he himself had been when he arrived his first year.
He was shaken out of his thoughts as his friends started pulling their luggage out of the overhead racks. They had changed earlier so now they were all wearing their black robes as the train slowed, then came to a stop. The corridor was soon very crowded as everyone piled out of their compartments, heading towards the exits. Harry and the others slipped into the throng, dragging their luggage behind them.
As they stepped into the evening air, Harry automatically glanced around, listening for the familiar call of "Firs' years this way!" After a moment of no luck, he asked no one in particular, "Where's Hagrid?"
"Not sure," Ginny replied distractedly, trying to find Ron and Hermione in the crowd of faces.
Harry suddenly heard a voice calling to the first years (and this time, exchange students as well), but it wasn't Hagrid's. Closer inspection told him the brisk female voice belonged to Professor Grubbly-Plank, the professor who had replaced Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class. Disappointed, and also a bit worried, Harry and the others started walking in the opposite direction, he trying to convince himself that his half-giant friend was okay.
Soon free of the thickest crowd, they spotted a hundred or so horseless carriages lined up a short ways away. Harry started to turn around, then did a double take. The horseless coaches were no longer horseless! Standing between the carriage shafts were creatures Harry had never seen before. They had looked like horses at first glance, but he realized they had not flesh at all. Their dark cots hung on pale bones and two massive black wings sprouted from the withers, bat-like. Harry wondered why they were allowed to pull the carriages when they could pull themselves just fine.
"Something wrong, Harry?" Ron appeared at his shoulder, trying to see what Harry was staring at. He must have arrived without Harry realizing it.
"Do you see them?" Harry demanded, pointing at the odd black creatures. Ron followed his gaze, then gave Harry a confused look.
"See what?" he asked, letting his gaze scan the area, searching for anything out of the ordinary.
"The black creatures pulling the carts! Don't you see them?"
Harry got the sinking feeling that his friend couldn't see them, and his suspicion was confirmed when Ron shook his head slowly and said, "They've always pulled themselves."
As he followed his friends towards the carriages, Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was seeing things. If Ron didn't see the creatures, and no one else even acknowledged them…
"You're not crazy. I can see them too." He started slightly when Luna Lovegood's dreamy voice sounded behind him. She too was gazing intently at the nearest black horse with her pale eyes; it regarded her with no sign of emotion, its dark, unblinking eyes eerily blank. "Don't worry; you're just as a sane as I am."
Harry didn't say anything. He was slightly relieved that he wasn't the only one who could see them, but he was far from reassured.
After the ride up to the castle, everyone was ushered quickly into the Great Hall. Harry found himself hoping Ammon and Avery would get sorted into Gryffindor, although he did not expect that Ammon would be. After all, at the Sarah Good Academy, he was considered one of the brightest students in the American version of Ravenclaw. Why would it be any different over here?
Ginny was ushered over by some of her friends from the previous year, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione found a seat at a different area of the Gryffindor table. They all noticed grimly that Hagrid hadn't shown up yet, but Harry saw an obese woman with short, curly brown hair and a toad-like face sitting at the teacher's table where his former Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Barty Crouch Jr. impersonating Alastor Moody, was last year. Ron saw a look of recognition spread across Harry's face.
"You know her?" He asked.
"It's that Umbridge woman!" Harry whispered in reply, being careful not to be overheard, "She was at my hearing. She works for Fudge."
Hermione frowned. "If she works for the Minister of Magic, then what could…No. No way. Of course not…"
Harry opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, but before he could, the hall fell silent, as Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house, entered, followed by the first years and the Pendleton siblings. In one hand she held an old, battered hat, in the other a small stool; she set them up at the front of the hall where all four houses could see it. Everyone watched with bated breath as a rip opened in the hat and began its song:
In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The Founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
"Together we will build and teach!"
The Four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest."
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest."
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name,"
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same."
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A House in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor,
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the Houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But the discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
And they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you..
Let the sorting now begin.
The hat fell silent and applause broke throughout the hall; however, for the first time in Harry's memory, it was accompanied by whispers and mutterings.
"I wonder if its ever given warnings like that before," Hermione said anxiously.
"Yes indeed, it has," Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor Ghost, responded matter-of-factly. "The hat feels itself honor-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels-"
But Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first-years' names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. Nearly Headless Nick placed a see-through finger to his lips and sat primly upright again as the muttering came to an abrupt end. With a last frowning look that swept the four house tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out the first name.
"Abercrombie, Euan."
Harry watched as a scared-looking first year he had seen on the train earlier walked nervously up to the hat, put it on, and sat down. After a moment, the hat yelled, "Gryffindor!" and Euan went over to the Gryffindor table, a huge grin plastered on his face. Harry applauded with the others. Then he began to notice something. As McGonagall got further down her list, he realized that a suspiciously high number of students were being sorted into Slytherin. Thinking hard about it, an idea of what might be going on started to form in his mind, but it was quickly forgotten when he heard McGonagall call out "Pendleton, Ammon."
Ammon, obviously a lot older than a first year, was unfazed by the whispers that followed him to the front. The hat fit him perfectly, unlike those previously sorted, but hardly needed more than a couple of seconds to make its decision.
"Ravenclaw!"
Slightly disappointed, but also relieved that his friend hadn't been sorted into the dreaded Slytherin, Harry clapped loudly for his friend. However, he saw that Ammon did not immediately get up to join the Ravenclaw table.
"Please," He whispered, "Sort my sister into Ravenclaw."
"I sort students according to their traits. Not by family. Now go join the other Ravenclaws."
Somewhat nervously, Ammon did as he was told, sitting next to Luna. He waited anxiously as his sister sat down on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on. Please, if you don't sort her into Ravenclaw, at least put her in Gryffindor! After a moment, it called out her house, and he nearly cried out in dismay.
"Slytherin!"
A few more students were sorted into Slytherin before the sorting ended. The hat and stool were put away and Professor Dumbledore stepped forward to speak.
"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!'
There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate - for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice.
"Excellent," said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them on to his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick.
"What were you saying before the Sorting?" Hermione asked the ghost. "About the Hat giving warnings?'
"Oh, yes," said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. "Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within."
"Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?" said Ron.
His mouth was so full Harry thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.
"I beg your pardon?" said Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted. Ron gave an enormous swallow and said, "How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?"
"I have no idea," said Nearly Headless Nick. "Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there."
"And it wants all the houses to be friends?" said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court. "Fat chance."
"Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude," said Nick reprovingly. "Peaceful co-operation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron."
"Only because you're terrified of him," said Ron.
Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted.
"Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins-"
"What blood?" asked Ron. "Surely you haven't still got-?"
"It's a figure of speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. "I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!"
"Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!" said Hermione, throwing a furious look at Ron.
Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point again and all he could manage was "Node iddum eentup sechew," which Nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air, he straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.
"Well done, Ron," snapped Hermione
"What?" said Ron indignantly, having managed, finally, to swallow his food. "I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?"
"Oh, forget it," said Hermione irritably, and the pair of them spent the rest of the meal in huffy silence.
Harry did not say anything, either. Why is it so hard for the two of them to get along? For years now, they had been by far Harry's closest friends. However, it was never pleasant to be around them when his tactlessness and her occasional bossiness clashed. Rather than try to break the tension, he looked around for Ammon and Avery.
Ammon was near the end of the Ravenclaw table, having nearly finished his meal. He was sitting across from Luna, and appeared to be listening to her. There was a half-smile on his face. Avery, on the other hand, hardly touched her food and did not talk to anyone. Harry frowned. She didn't seem like the type to be sorted into Slytherin.
Further down the table, Harry could just see Draco Malfoy chatting with some of his friends. Harry frowned when a smug grin spread across his face. I wonder if he had anything to do with the hat. It's suspicious how many new Slytherin students there are this year. He tried to remember the theory he had come up with just recently, but before he could, Dumbledore got to his feet.
"I beg a few moments of your attention for our start-of-term notices." In mere seconds, the students all became silent and turned their attention to the Headmaster. "First of all, ventures into the forest are not permitted. A few of you ought to know this by now."
Harry smirked at Ron and Hermione, remembering their several escapades into the dangerous forest. They both returned the look.
Dumbledore continued speaking. "Our caretaker Argus Filch has asked me, for what he claims is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to inform and remind you that magic is not permitted in the halls between classes. For a long list of other things that are not permitted, check Mr. Filch's office door. There are too many forbidden actions and items for me to list at present.
"We have had two changes in staffing this year. First, we are rather pleased to welcome back Professor Grubby-Plank, who for the time being will handle Care for Magical Creatures lessons in lieu of Rubeus Hagrid."
Most of the students applauded politely but unenthusiastically. (Care for Magical Creatures was hardly a favorite subject among students.) Harry, Ron, and Hermione all exchanged worried glances. Harry could tell by the look in the eyes of both of his friends that they were thinking the same thing; "How long will Hagrid be gone?"
"We are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place-"
He suddenly turned to Umbridge, who had gotten up from her seat. For a moment, he appeared surprised, but then sat down when it became apparent that she wanted to make a speech as well. The students and other Professors and staff all glanced around at each other in astonishment. New teachers never interrupted Dumbledore like this. Harry saw the astonished looks of several older students turn to smirks at her ignorance of how things were done at Hogwarts. Hermione's was one of them.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Umbridge practically squeaked, "for your ever so kind welcoming words." For a middle-aged woman, she had a surprisingly girlish voice that Harry could not stand. "It is so lovely to be back at Hogwarts!" She smiled, "And so nice to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"
Harry looked around and saw that hardly anyone's face was happy. He found it difficult to discern what bothered them more; the fact that she had upstaged Dumbledore, her voice, or the fact that they were being spoken to as if they were young children. Are you blind, lady?
"I'm so excited to get to know you all, and I just know that we'll be very good friends!" She paused momentarily to clear her throat. "Hem, hem!"
Now her voice began to sound less girlish and more businesslike. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young wizards amongst its top priorities. Your rare gifts with which you were born will not amount to anything if they are not perfected with careful instruction. The ancient skills…"
Harry lost focus as other students, accustomed to Dumbledore's speeches, began whispering and giggling amongst themselves. He saw Luna holding a magazine upside down and gesturing to it while speaking to Ammon. His guess was that she was explaining something in or about the magazine to him. Whatever it was, Ammon seemed not to find it odd; he nodded every now and then in understanding. The only other student Harry thought was really paying attention to Umbridge was, of course, Hermione.
Umbridge, however, seemed oblivious to the lack of attention. She just continued droning on through her speech, not unlike Professor Binns when he taught History. Harry wondered if it would take a full-scale riot to gain her attention.
Thankfully, she wrapped up her speech within the next five minutes and sat back down. Dumbledore clapped politely, as did the rest of the present staff. However, Harry noticed that they mostly only clapped once or twice. The students had just realized her speech was over, and before they could follow suit, Dumbledore stood back up.
"Thank you, Professor Umbridge, for that enlightening speech." He turned back to the students. "Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held-"
"Yes, very enlightening indeed," Hermione muttered in a low voice.
Ron gave her an alarmed look. "You actually enjoyed that speech?" He whispered incredulously. "That was the dullest speech I've ever heard, even worse than anything Professor Binns or Percy could have come up with, and that's saying a lot!"
"I said enlightening, not enjoyable. The only thing worthwhile about listening to it is that it explained a lot."
"Didn't sound like it," Harry replied.
"She mentioned that 'progress for the sake thereof must be discouraged' and something about 'pruning whatever practices ought to be prohibited'. Even I didn't catch everything, but I got most of it."
"What's all that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Hermione replied grimly, "That the Ministry is attempting to take control of Hogwarts."