After Harry and Draco dropped their trunks off at their dormitory, they made their way to the Welcoming Feast. As they walked through the common room, Draco caught sight of Urquhart sitting near the fireplace.

"Quick," Draco said, "Or else he'll see us."

Harry picked up his pace, but it was too late. Urquhart leaped to his feet and sped across the common room, not quite breaking into a run. Urquhart still looked ridiculous; walking at that speed, he reminded Harry of the old women who would go buzzing around Privet Drive in the early mornings during the summer.

"Harry! Draco! Congratulations, you guys!" Urquhart's voice was obsequious and grated on Harry's ears.

"What are you congratulating us about, Urquhart?" Draco asked.

"Well, one of you is quidditch captain!"

"What makes you think that?" Harry said. There was no need to make things easy on the little sycophant. If Urquhart was going to accost them before they even made it out of the common room, then Harry was going to make Urquhart work for whatever it was that he wanted. Over Urquhart's shoulder, Harry saw Pansy and the rest of the fourth year girls leave the common room for the feast.

"It isn't Pucey or Derrick or Bole or Montague or Warrington, so it has to be one of you two!" Urquhart smiled triumphantly. He was proud of his reasoning, as if he had just completed some sort of difficult logic puzzle. "I want you two to know that it was a great choice. You're both such good players. You really understand the game."

"Do you even know who got the badge?" Draco asked, carefully avoiding any claim of actually being named captain.

"Er… no? But either way, I want you guys to remember me at tryouts. I've always believed in you two."

Harry frowned. "Don't I remember you complaining when we made the team over you in our second year?"

Urquhart started to turn red. "That was just in the heat of the moment. Now that I've seen you play for a couple of years, I know that Flint made the right decision. I needed to get better."

Draco laughed in Urquhart's face. "Is there anything you wouldn't say to make the team?"

"Hey, I'm serious!" Urquhart was now completely flushed. "I've been practicing."

"I'm sorry, Urquhart," said Draco, who didn't sound sorry at all. "But I'm not the captain, and neither is Harry."

"Come on, guys. It's just me!" Urquhart reached out with his hand and patted Harry on the upper arm. Harry assumed that the gesture was supposed to feel chummy and familiar, but it came off as stilted and awkward. "You can tell me!"

"Urquhart, shut up and listen!" Harry's annoyance boiled over into anger. Harry was certain that, at some point in his life, he must have heard a sound more annoying that Urquhart's voice… but Harry certainly couldn't think of any time off the top of his head. "It isn't me. It isn't Draco."

"But… it has to be! Who else is there?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "And right now, I don't care. We're late to the feast and I'm starving." Harry brushed past Urquhart and continued through the common room. "Come on, Draco. Maybe Pansy saved us a seat."

Draco followed Harry out of the common room. When the two boys arrived at the Great Hall, the Slytherin table was mostly filled. Pansy was seated next to Blaise, and there were no other open seats around.

As Harry looked down the table he saw Tracey Davis, who waved him over. Tracey was sitting near Daphne Greengrass and Theo Nott. There was a pair of empty seats next to the group, one seat on each side of the table. Harry moved to take the seat next to Tracey, and Draco took the long way around the table to the other chair.

As Harry walked down the table, he passed by Derrick and Bole, the Slytherin beaters. The older students greeted him cheerfully.

"Hey, is one of you Quidditch captain?" Harry asked.

Bole shook his head. "Pucey asked the same thing. Not us."

"We thought it would be you or Draco," Derrick said. "A little young, maybe, but Flint was captain before his seventh year, too."

"It isn't either of us," Harry said.

Bole frowned. "Please tell me it isn't Urquhart."

"It isn't anybody, as far as I can tell," said Harry. He patted Derrick on the shoulder. "Enjoy the feast, you guys. I'll talk to you later."

Derrick and Bole said goodbye, and Harry continued down the table. Harry took his seat next to Tracey. They were sitting across from Draco and Daphne, and Nott was sitting on Tracey's other side.

"Thanks for saving these for us," Harry said.
"Not a problem," said Tracey. "I was sad that we couldn't talk on the train, so I convinced Blaise to take the last empty seat next to Pansy."

"He wasn't difficult to convince," Theo said. Blaise's crush on Pansy was starting to become well known among the fourth year boys.

"And now I get to talk to Harry," Tracey said with a smile.

"What if one of the firsties has a crush on Harry and tries to sit between you two after she gets sorted?" Daphne asked.

"Then I will hit her with my closed fist," Tracey said. Her voice was flat and serious; she had completely missed Daphne's teasing tone.

The Slytherins were silent for a moment, until Harry burst out laughing. Daphne and Draco and Nott quickly joined him. Tracey looked around, confused.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked.

"No," said Harry. "I just missed you this summer." Tracey was so serious about everything she did; it was refreshing after a summer full of Dudley's apathy and laziness.

"I'm laughing because I keep imagining you punching out a first year," Nott said. "I hope that one of them does try to sit next to Harry."

"'Welcome to Slytherin; sit somewhere else,'" Draco said. He punched the air with his fist. "Wha-bam!"

"I still think you might be laughing at me," Tracey said.

Harry's answer was cut short by the sound of loud voices down at the other end of the Slytherin table. One of the voices was distinctly Pansy's; there was no mistaking her slightly nasal voice.

Harry turned to look and was surprised to see Ginny Weasley standing behind Pansy. Pansy had turned around in her seat and was staring at Ginny, arms folded. The Gryffindor girl was frozen in place, and her face was beginning to turn red. There was a long bit of awkward silence before Pansy spoke again.

"I said, 'What are you doing over here?' Are you dumb?"

"I came to talk to Harry," Ginny said quietly. Harry could see that her hands were beginning to tremble.

"Harry Potter?" Pansy laughed, a nasty noise. "You don't speak to Harry Potter. Harry Potter speaks to you."

"I just… I just-"

Pansy cut her off. "'I just- I just- I just-' If that's all you have to say, don't waste our time."

"Pansy, lay off," Harry called down the table. Harry felt protective of the Gryffindor; not only was Ginny one of Hermione's close friends, but he had saved her life in second year. He certainly hadn't done it so that his friends could treat her poorly. Pansy ignored Harry, though, and continued to taunt Ginny.

"Why don't you slink back to where you belong, you stupid slag. If Harry wants to speak to you, he'll let you know."

"Pansy!" Harry's voice was sharp and commanding; Pansy turned immediately to look at him. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't mind talking to Ginny."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You can't-"

"If I want a secretary to manage my appointments, I'll hire one," Harry said, his voice cool. "Stop acting so working class."

The Slytherin table burst into snickers. Pansy's mouth worked up and down, fish-like, but no words came out. Finally coming to her senses, she responded to Harry with the incredulity that can only be managed by the extraordinarily privileged.

"You can't talk to me like that!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Can't I?" He stared at Pansy for a moment, then turned away, pointedly ignoring her. "Ginny, come down here."

Ginny moved slowly toward Harry, still in shock from her encounter with Pansy. Harry stared down the rest of the Slytherin table, silently daring them to say anything to Ginny. Harry's housemate's were too amused by Pansy's discomfort to make any snarky comments, however, and Ginny reached Harry without further confrontation.

Harry scooted away from Tracey, making room for Ginny to sit. Tracey frowned, but kept silent after Harry glared at her.

"Thanks," Ginny whispered as she sat down.

"Why did you come over here, anyway?" Harry asked. It was the first day of school, and inter-house tensions were high. Houses competed over sorting the first years almost as much as they competed over quidditch.

"I… wanted to talk to you," Ginny said.

"Yeah, we gathered that," said Draco.

"Take it easy," said Harry. "It took a lot of guts to come over here."

"But not a lot of smarts," said Draco, "Which is exactly why she should be sitting at the Gryffindor table instead of the Slytherin table! Salazar is probably spinning in his grave as we speak!"

Harry ignored Draco and turned back to Ginny. "What'd you want to talk to me about?"

"Quidditch."

"And it couldn't wait?" said Draco.

Harry opened his mouth, but before he could speak Ginny was snapping at Draco. "Malfoy, one more little comment and I swear to Merlin that you'll have your own bogies climbing out of your nose and smacking you in the face."

There was a long silence.

"At least she's clever," said Daphne. Ginny grinned at her, and Daphne smiled back. And with that, the ice seemed to be broken.

"I heard what you asked Ron about our quidditch captain," Ginny said. "I asked Angelina, and she told me that she hadn't been made captain this summer. So I asked Katie and Alicia, and they hadn't been named captain, either. I know it wasn't one of my brothers, which leaves…"

"Nobody," Harry said.

"Exactly. So, who's replacing Flint?"

Harry's eyebrows went up and he exchanged a glance with Draco. Draco shrugged; maybe the girl was cleverer than they gave her credit for.

"Thought so," said Ginny.

Out in the hallway, Harry could hear the booming voice of Hagrid, as he led the first year students up to the great hall.

"Better head back," Harry said. "Wouldn't want to confuse the firsties, seeing one of your lot over here with us respectable types."

"Respectable isn't the word I would use." Ginny grinned and stood. "If you find out what's going on, will you let me know?"

"Sure," Harry said. As Ginny moved to leave, Harry grabbed her arm. "Actually, Draco's dad mentioned that something big was going to be happening at Hogwarts this year. Something secret."

Ginny furrowed her brow. "My brother Percy—he works at the Ministry, you know—he was going on about being involved in something very important at Hogwarts this year. Same thing?"

Harry let go of her arm shrugged.

"We'll find out eventually, I guess," said Ginny. "Bye, Harry."

"Bye."

Harry turned back to his table. His Slytherin classmates were staring at him with expressions in varying mixes of surprise, disgust, and anger.

"What the hell was that?" asked Draco.

Before Harry could answer, Hagrid burst into the Great Hall, leading the first years to their empty table. The noise that accompanied the younger students prevented any reasonable conversation, and Harry wasn't going to shout to be heard. How vulgar.

Harry didn't pay much attention to the sorting. He dutifully cheered with his classmates whenever a new student was sorted to Slytherin, and he lightly booed whenever a Gryffindor was sorted. Harry paid little attention to a list of names that, as of now, meant nothing to him—Ackerley, Stewart; Branstone, Eleanor; Quirke, Orla—and instead considered the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who was seated at the head table.

The man was older than Lupin and younger than Dumbledore, but that was as near as Harry could establish his age. He was… grizzled. The man had two eyes, but only one natural. The other eye was a bulbous blue magical construction that constantly moved in its socket, casting the man's gaze all around the room. Under the table, Harry could see that one of the man's legs had been cut off above the knee and replaced with a wooden peg. Whoever it was, he had clearly been through more than his share of duels.

The gaze of the man's magical eyeball touched Harry and came to a sudden halt. Harry met the gaze calmly; he wasn't going to allow himself to be intimidated by a new professor simply because the man looked scary. The scarred man turned his head slowly, now focusing his natural eye on Harry, as well. The pair looked at each other for several seconds, neither breaking eye contact.

"Ahem."

Harry looked away from the new professor. The sorting had finished, and Dumbledore was now standing at the head table. Traditionally, he would say a few words before dinner.

"Tuck in," Dumbledore said.

The plates on the house tables were suddenly filled with food. Harry smiled to himself, remembering his amazement at his first sorting feast. He was less impressed, now, knowing that the feast was created and transported by house elf magic. Harry grabbed a large spoonful of mashed potatoes and brought it to his plate. Harry looked down and paused.

Sitting in the center of his plate was a single round peppermint, swirled red and white.

Harry turned and looked across the hall. At the Gryffindor table, Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger were clearly having words. Hermione was waving her hands and gesturing dramatically at the food. Ginny, red hair flying, was snapping back at Hermione. Clasped in Ginny's hands was a steaming mug of what could only be hot chocolate.

Harry heard a snapping sound. He turned back and saw Draco leaning across the table, snapping his fingers.

"What is wrong with you?" Draco said.

"Nothing," Harry said, belatedly depositing the potatoes on his plate.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked. "Defending Gryffindors at the World Cup, talking to them on the train, protecting the littlest Weasley from Pansy, and then inviting her to sit at our table? Are you going crazy, Harry?"

Harry looked at his friends. Draco seemed genuinely concerned, in a "Are you aware of what you're doing to your social standing in Slytherin" sort of way. Daphne was scowling a little bit, and Theo looked as if he had swallowed something sour. Even Tracey was looking skeptically at Harry.

"Am I really acting that odd?" Harry asked.

"Yes," said Tracey. "I don't like those Gryffindors coming between us."

"Sorry," Harry said.

"So what was that business with Ginny Weasley, anyway?" Theo asked.

"Pansy was being boring," Harry said. "Nobody cares about those sorts of insults."

"It was working," Draco said. "A few more seconds and Weasley would never have shown her face around you again."

"I thought it would be more interesting to lure her in and thoroughly embarrass her," Harry lied. "Bring her in, make her think that she was safe, listen to what she had to say… then loudly tell her that Pansy was right and she was wasting my time."

"But then you discovered that she had something interesting to say," Draco said. "Gryffindor doesn't have a quidditch captain, either."

"Right. And if she can keep getting me information about that, why would I embarrass her?"

"Maybe you should tell Pansy that," Theo said. "Because right now, I think she's plotting to murder you."

Harry looked down the table at Pansy. Harry had seen plenty of hateful expressions on Pansy's face; she was notorious for being one of the nastiest girls in the school. Her nastiness, however, was usually directed at other girls. This was the first time that Pansy had truly been angry at Harry, and the strength of her gaze was almost a physical shock.

"Okay, yeah," Harry said, leaning slightly away from Pansy. "I'll do that as soon as the feast is over."

The rest of the feast passed without incident. Harry spent most of the meal catching up with his friends, exchanging stories about their summers and gossiping about students in other houses. After pudding, when all the students had taken plenty of time to eat, Dumbledore again stood to address the school.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," the headmaster said. "I am pleased to see a room full of young faces, all so eager to learn." Scattered boos and catcalls arose in the room, mostly good-natured. Dumbledore smiled gently. "To ensure that you are able to learn, I will remind the students of the following rules: the Forbidden Forest is, predictably, forbidden. Hogsmeade is off-limits to all students without permission slips, and all students who are younger than third year. Mr. Filch's list of forbidden items has been expanded to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Ever-Bashing Boomerangs, and Fanged Frisbees. If you have any interest in viewing the whole list, it is posted outside Mr. Filch's office." Dumbledore smiled slightly; neither the students nor the faculty had any interest in the list.

"Finally," Dumbledore said, "I am glad to announce the cancellation of the quidditch cup for this school year."

Shouts erupted around the room. Harry was astonished; he looked across the table, and saw a mirror image of his own expression plastered across Draco's face.

"In lieu of the quidditch cup, Hogwarts will host students from Durmstrang Institute and Beaxbatons Academy in the first Triwizard Tournament to be held in over a century. This tournament is made possible by the Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports."

Dumbledore went on to explain the tournament: a champion would be chosen from each school by an impartial judge. The champions would compete in three tasks, designed by the headmasters of the three schools. The tournament champion would win a prize of one thousand galleons.

"Alas," said Dumbledore, "Participation will not be open to all students. The tournament was originally discontinued because of its rather significant death toll. Thus, only students who have reached the age of majority shall be allowed to compete." Once again, boos and catcalls arose from the students, much more heartfelt than before. "More details will be given at a later time.

"Finally, I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, my old friend, Alastor Moody." Dumbledore gestured to the man with the magical eye. The portly man nodded in acknowledgement, then took a conspicuous swig from the flask he carried on his belt. Professor McGonnegall frowned disapprovingly.

"Professor Moody is a veteran auror, and has graciously agreed to come out of retirement to teach this year. Please make him feel welcome. And with that, our evening is concluded! Off to bed with the lot of you!" Dumbledore clapped his hands, and the prefects from the various houses stood to lead their students to their dormitories.

On the way back to the common room, Harry drifted away from Tracey and Draco and found Pansy in the crowd of students. Harry sidled up next to Pansy and offered her his elbow. Pansy was certainly still furious, but Harry was betting that Pansy wouldn't be able to resist; Pansy was enamored with exaggerated formality, and there was an inherent status boost if she was seen on Harry's arm. Pansy glared at Harry, but took his arm.

"I'm sorry about that business earlier," said Harry.

"You should be."

"I didn't mean for things to turn out that way," Harry said, vaguely enough to not be lying. He hadn't meant for things to turn out with Pansy completely infuriated.

"And what did you expect would happen? You embarrassed me in front of our entire house."

Harry told Pansy the same story he had told Draco: that he had intended to embarrass Ginny Weasley after making her feel safe. Not a word was true, of course.

"So, a social trap?" said Pansy. She was very familiar with these, both in their setting and avoidance.

"Exactly. But, amazing as it seems, I was actually interested in what Weasley had to say. I had to abandon my plan, but it was at your expense. So… sorry." Harry hung his head.

"Harry, you've grown so much since we first met." Pansy smiled and pulled him closer. "You've changed from a naïve muggle into a shrewd wizard. Seeing you take control in the Great Hall, just by using your words… it was amazing." Pansy shuddered, but not unpleasantly. "I love a man who is willing to take charge like that."

Harry looked at Pansy and smiled. Pansy stopped walking and moved slightly closer to Harry, bringing her lips close to Harry's face. Pansy's breath was warm as she whispered into Harry's ear.

"If you ever embarrass me like that again, I will make your life a living hell." Pansy brought her free hand up and patted the side of Harry's face. It wasn't hard enough to be a slap, but there was nothing gentle about the gesture.

"Okay, Pansy," Harry said, suddenly frightened of his friend.

"Good!" Pansy said brightly. She let go of Harry's arm and began to walk off at a brisk pace. "Now, let's talk about how you're going to apologize to me in front of all of Slytherin."

When Harry and Pansy arrived at Slytherin, they walked conspicuously through the common room. Pansy had once again taken Harry's arm. Both Harry and Pansy were smiling and laughing. This confused Goyle, who was eating candies next to the fireplace.

"Whoa," Goyle said as Harry and Pansy walked past. "Pansy, aren't you pissed at Harry?"

"Of course not," Pansy said loudly. "I knew Harry wasn't being serious at dinner."

"Er… he wasn't?" Goyle had stopped eating, with a chocolate frog halfway to its mouth. The frog struggled to escape Goyle's grasp, but the boy's chubby fingers held it tight.

"Of course I wasn't," Harry said, also slightly too loud. "I just wanted a chance to take the mickey out of Weasley myself. Pansy knew that."

"Next time, you have to wait your turn," Pansy said to Harry.

Goyle looked from Harry to Pansy, utterly confused. "But, Pansy, you looked so mad…"

Harry started laughing. "Goyle, you must be astoundingly thick if you think I would actually treat Pansy that poorly."

As Goyle frowned and hung his head, Harry glanced around the room. He could see the faces of his fellow classmates begin to change as they realized that Pansy was no longer the unfortunate target of Harry's wit. Instead, Harry and Pansy were friends, and it was Goyle who was worthy of disdain. The shift in attitude was like a shift in the wind—completely unseen, yet clearly felt.

"Really, Goyle?" called Urquhart from across the room. "We all knew Harry wasn't being serious. Try having an ounce of cunning for once in your life."

The Slytherins in the room began to laugh at Goyle. Urquhart had chosen his moment well. The snippy little comment had certainly improved Urquhart's standing in the eyes of his classmates. Harry still thought Urquhart was a sod, of course, but even sods could be unexpectedly useful on occasion.

Harry reached forward and ruffled Goyle's hair. The large boy pulled his head away and waved a ham-fisted hand in the air, trying to shoo Harry away.

"Don't worry, Goyle," Harry said. "You'll figure it out eventually. Later tonight, just when you're about to fall asleep, it'll all make sense." Harry paused. "Probably. If not, I'll explain it again in the morning."

The common room erupted in laughter again. Pansy squeezed Harry's arm as she laughed, causing warmth to rush through Harry's body. As Harry looked around at the smiling faces of his classmates, he was struck once again by the thought that this was going to be a good year.

The best.