Professor Lupin and I made our way back to the Great Hall. It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a four-legged stool out of the hall.
"Oh no," I said annoyed, "I've missed Sorting this year, again!"
"Why'd you miss Sorting last year?" Professor Lupin asked.
"Long story," I replied, remembering the disgusted look on Professor Snape's face when he confronted Harry, Ron, and me last year.
New students at Hogwarts were sorted into Houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the House they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin). Professor Lupin strode off toward his empty seat at the staff table, and I set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table. People looked around at me as I passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at me, as well. Had the story of my collapsing in front of the dementor traveled that fast?
I sat down across Ron, as he, Harry, and Hermione seemed to have saved me the seat. Harry and Hermione were sitting on either side of Ron.
"What was all that about, Amelia?" Hermione muttered to me.
I was thinking of an excuse to say, but at that moment the headmaster stood up to speak, and I turned to him, avoiding Hermione's question.
Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn't why I respected him. You couldn't help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as I watched him beaming around at the students, I felt really calm for the first time since the dementor had entered the train compartment.
"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast. ..."
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."
He paused, and I could tell that Dumbledore was not happy with the dementors guarding the school.
"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Leo, and I glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors," he said.
Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from Leo, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.
"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.
"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard. Unfortunately, Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.
"Look at Snape!" Ron hissed in Harry's and my ear.
Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even I, who hates Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger: It was loathing. I knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on me.
"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."
Leo, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I stared at each other, stunned. Then we joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. I leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby-red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.
"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"
Harry, Ron, Leo, Hermione, and I were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, we saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.
"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"
The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. I, suddenly ravenous, helped myself to everything I could reach and began to eat.
It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. Leo, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I, however, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Hagrid.
I know how much being made a teacher would mean to him.
Hagrid wasn't a fully qualified wizard; he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year for a crime he had not committed. It had been Harry, me, Leo, Hermione, and Ron who had cleared Hagrid's name last year.
At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for us all to go to bed, and we got our chance.
"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed as we reached the teachers' table.
"All down ter you five," said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at us. "Can' believe it ... great man, Dumbledore ... came straight down to me hut after Professor Ketdeburn said he'd had enough. ... It's what I always wanted..." Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his napkin, and Professor McGonagall shooed us away.
We joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower.
A large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, "Password?"
"Coming through, coming through!" Percy called from behind the crowd. "The new password's 'Fortuna Major'!"
"Oh no," said Neville Longbottom sadly. He always had trouble remembering the passwords.
Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases. I climbed the spiral stair with no thought in my head except how glad I was to be back. We reached our familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds, and I, looking around, felt I was home at last.
