Remember Two Things

by FrostyTheDopeMan

Reeling from his ordeal in the graveyard, Harry Potter is left anxious and isolated with the Dursleys. A mysterious letter and some uninvited guests cause him to rethink his plans to stay at Privet Drive for the summer. Join Harry as he takes on corrupt governments, finds love, inspires his friends, and learns magic at the side of his greatest mentor, Albus Dumbledore. 5th year.

10. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Chapter Ten: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

"Hello, Astoria," said Harry, setting both his trunk and Hedwig's cage down in the corridor. "How've you been?"

"Oh, fine, I suppose. I'm sorry I didn't write you back last time. I didn't think you wanted Hedwig making too many trips."

"No problem," he said, waving her off. "What —"

"How do you know Harry?" Ginny interrupted from behind him.

"Oh!" said Astoria with a start, not realising anyone was listening in to their conversation. "We...wrote to each other some, over the summer."

"That's right," Harry jumped in. "Astoria wrote to let me know that not everybody believed the rubbish the Prophet was saying about me. I wrote back to thank her, and we kept in touch over the summer."

"Okay...well, I'm going to go find a compartment," Ginny said hesitantly.

"Go on ahead, I'll catch up."

"All...all right, then."

With that, Ginny grabbed her trunk and moved along the corridor and into the next carriage, stopping once to look back over her shoulder.

"I take it that was one of the Weasleys?" asked Astoria.

"Yeah, Ginny — Ron's younger sister."

"I don't think she liked me..."

"Really?" asked Harry, sounding surprised. "I can't see why...she's probably just confused, because I've never mentioned you before." Astoria's eyes narrowed slightly at him, and he raised his hands in surrender. "I know, I know," he said. "We don't have to hide being friends, I promise. I just didn't know what to say without giving away where I'd been staying."

"I suppose that makes sense. Your explanation just now was good, though. You're much better at that than I am," she admitted.

"Well, when you think about it, what I said was completely true — I just left out a few details."

"Maybe more than just a few," she laughed. "Anyhow, the corridor is lovely and all, but wouldn't you rather join me in my compartment?"

"Sure," he agreed, before his nose wrinkled in disappointment. "I mean, I would and all, except I already promised —"

"Now, Harry, you wouldn't refuse a lady's request on her birthday, would you?" asked Astoria, pretending to pout even as her eyes sparkled with humour.

"I suppose that would be rude of me," he replied with a slight grin. "Is it really your birthday?"

"Yep, fourteen today."

"Wow, really? So that means..."

"Yes — it's a bit annoying, really," Astoria said with a scowl. "If I had been born just a few hours earlier, I'd be a fourth year instead. Daphne and I are actually less than a year and a half apart."

"Huh, funny how that works."

"Yes, it's quite hilarious...come on, then. I feel like people are starting to stare at us."

Harry nodded and started dragging his luggage back towards Astoria's compartment, where she slid open the door and allowed him to enter first. He stepped in and quickly realised that the compartment was not, in fact, empty. Staring back at him with curious expressions were three people he had never met.

One on side of the compartment were two girls; one of them seemed rather tall and had her long, dark hair tied back in a ponytail. The other looked to be closer to Astoria's height, with curly auburn hair that fell just around her shoulders. Across from them was a rather young-looking boy who didn't seem overly thrilled with Harry's sudden appearance.

"Harry, I'd like to introduce you to some of my friends. This is Ethan Bexley," said Astoria, gesturing to the only boy. "He's a third-year Ravenclaw, too. So is Felicity, actually — Felicity Eastchurch." The curly-haired girl gave him a polite wave. "And this is Noreen Kirkby; she's a Ravenclaw too, except she's a fourth year."

"It's nice to meet you," Harry said politely, and then turned around to hoist his trunk and Hedwig's cage up onto the luggage rack. When he turned back around, he saw that Astoria had asked Ethan to scoot over and sat down in the middle of the bench, leaving room on her other side for Harry.

He sat down in his designated spot and waited for the inevitable questions. The shorter girl (Felicity, Harry reminded himself) spoke up first.

"So, how did you two meet?" she asked, almost bouncing with excitement.

Astoria responded for him, repeating the abbreviated version he'd told Ginny earlier.

"I wrote to him over the summer to let him know that some of us believed him, and not the tosh being printed in the Prophet. He wrote back to say thank you, and we just kept in touch."

"How romantic!" gushed Felicity.

"Oh no, it's not like that!" Astoria responded quickly, her cheeks suddenly turning bright pink. "Harry and I are just friends."

"I see...my apologies," the other girl replied, clearly not convinced. "Funny you never mentioned him when you wrote to me this summer."

"Yes, well —"

"So you believe him, then?" Ethan cut in. "All that rubbish about You-Know-Who?"

Harry's expression darkened at the comment and the temperature in the compartment dropped a few degrees. Ethan started subtly edging away from Harry, looking as if he regretted even opening his mouth.

"Of course, I believe him!" Astoria said crossly. "Harry is not a liar, and neither is Professor Dumbledore. To anyone who pays attention, it's obvious that the Ministry are just trying to cover things up!"

"But...why would they do that?" pressed Ethan, somewhat taken aback by her fierce defence of Harry. "My father works at the Ministry, and he's a good man!"

"I don't know who your father is, and I really don't care," Harry responded, speaking in a flat, emotionless tone. "It's not as if there's a grand conspiracy that involves everyone in the Ministry. It mostly comes down to Fudge himself. He's in complete denial, and it all rolls downhill from there. I'm pretty sure Voldemort has at least a few agents inside the Ministry, too."

All four Ravenclaws flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, although Harry noticed that Astoria had gotten better at minimising her reaction. The other two girls were looking at him thoughtfully, but Ethan was just shaking his head in denial.

"Look, believe what you want," said Harry. "I'm not here to convince anybody. The truth will come out eventually, that much I guarantee."

Ethan looked around at his housemates, and realising that he didn't have any support, he seemingly decided he'd be better off sitting elsewhere for the remainder of the journey.

"Right, well...I just remembered that I promised to meet up with Trevor on the train. I'll see you all at the feast," he said, and then hurried out of the compartment.

"Don't worry about him, Harry," stated Felicity. "We believe you, right Noreen?"

The other girl shrugged. "I don't have any reason not to," she replied, before turning to face Harry. "My mother sits on the Wizengamot and was there for your trial. She wasn't impressed by the Minister's behaviour."

"She wasn't the only one," grumbled Harry.

The others laughed, and they fell into light conversation for a while. Eventually, Felicity fell asleep and Noreen became engrossed in a book, giving Harry and Astoria some time to catch up.

"I didn't want to say anything whilst the others were listening, but I noticed your scar looks different," she whispered.

"Yeah...something weird happened about a week ago and the scar ended up fading," Harry explained. "It's actually a good thing...a really good thing, but I don't think I can say much about it right now."

"Okay...well, whatever it was, I'm glad it turned out well for you."

"Thanks. How about you? Did you ever finish that book you were reading?"

"I did!" Astoria said brightly. "It was so good, too. The author wrote a second book that picks up where the first left off, but I've only just —"

Her explanation was interrupted by the door to their compartment sliding open.

Harry turned, and standing in the doorway was Cho Chang, the exceptionally pretty sixth-year girl who was also the Seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

"Oh...hello, Harry," she said hesitantly.

"Um...hey, Cho. How've you been?"

"Okay, I guess. Did you have a good summer?"

Harry looked at her curiously. "I've had better," he replied flatly.

Cho's face flushed. "I'm sorry, that was a stupid question," she said apologetically, but Harry just waived her off.

"Don't worry about it. I have a feeling yours wasn't much better."

"No..." she admitted, her eyes starting to moisten. "Well...I didn't mean to interrupt...I just saw you and thought I'd say hello. I'll see you around, Harry."

"Okay...'bye," he said, giving her an awkward wave as she closed the door and continued on down the corridor.

"Well, that was rude, don't you think?" commented Noreen, not bothering to look up from her book. "We're her housemates and she basically pretended like we weren't even here."

"That was strange," agreed Astoria. "I don't know her well, but she's usually not like that. She looked like she was about to cry."

"Well, she was dating Cedric," Harry pointed out.

Astoria's hand shot to her mouth. "Oh! That's right, I forgot all about that. No wonder!" she exclaimed. Seeing that Harry's eyes had taken on a faraway look, she added, "I'm sorry, Harry, I know that's a hard memory for you, too."

Harry shook his head.

"No, it's fine. I've been dealing with it a lot better lately."

"But still..."

"It's fine," he insisted, flashing her a reassuring smile, which she seemed to accept.

The commotion managed to rouse Felicity from her nap, and conversation resumed between all four occupants. As much as he was enjoying himself, Harry was beginning to wonder what Ron and Hermione were up to. He hadn't seen them pass by, but he admittedly hadn't been paying close attention. Just as he was beginning to think about getting up to find them, the compartment was visited by another, far less welcome guest.

"There you are, Potter," drawled Draco Malfoy as he slid open the door, flanked as always by his loyal sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry had to fight the instinct to go for his wand. For the past four years, Harry had considered Malfoy little more than a nuisance — a persistent nuisance, perhaps, but never one that presented any real threat.

Things were different now.

He looked up at Malfoy's sneering face and was immediately transported back to the graveyard, where Harry had seen Draco's own father kiss Voldemort's robes and re-commit himself to the Dark Lord's cause. When Harry was lacking the necessary intent to practice deadly curses over the summer, it was visualising Lucius Malfoy's face that gave him the boost he needed. As Harry looked up at the younger Malfoy, he had to wonder if picturing Draco might have done the job, too.

The comments Draco had made on the train last year were enough to erase any benefit of the doubt that Harry might have given him. Malfoy and his bodyguards had been practically giddy at the thought of Voldemort's return, and he had publicly celebrated the idea of 'mudbloods and muggle-lovers' meeting their sticky end at the hands of the Dark Lord and his followers. While it was true that Draco was not his father, Harry had sworn to never allow himself to become a victim again — which meant he couldn't give Malfoy an inch.

"Congratulations, you found me. Now get out," Harry said coldly.

"I'm surprised to find you in here," countered Malfoy, his eyes flitting towards Astoria as he ignored Harry's request. "What's wrong, Potter, did you finally get tired of spending all your time with mudbloods and blood traitors?"

"Watch your mouth, Malfoy," Harry bit back.

"And what exactly are you going to do about it, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "Unlike you, I am a prefect, which means that I have authority over you. So, you'd better watch your step this year."

"Or what, Malfoy?" scoffed Harry. "You'll take away house points?"

Felicity snickered at Harry's retort before quickly covering her mouth.

Malfoy glared at the Ravenclaw for a moment before turning back to Harry. "There's a lot more at stake this year than house points, Potter," he spat. "If you want to survive it, you'd best learn to respect your betters. That goes double for your mudblood friend."

Harry rapidly drew his wand from his sleeve and snarled, "Oscausi!"

There was a flash of white, and Malfoy's mouth completely vanished from his face. It actually looked as if he had never even had one in the first place, with an unmarred patch of skin covering the entire area between his nose and chin.

Malfoy's eyes widened in shock once he realised what had happened. He tried to yell out, but without a mouth, the best he could manage was a high-pitched grunt. Crabbe and Goyle took that as their cue and stormed into the compartment, but Harry wordlessly stunned them both before they could even come close to him, leaving Malfoy without any backup. The door slammed closed with another wave of Harry's wand, and Malfoy soon found himself pressed up against the glass with a wand jabbing him under his chin.

"I warned you to watch your mouth, Malfoy," growled Harry, grabbing the Slytherin by the front of his robes. "You never know when someone might take it from you."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed defiantly as he continued to grunt at Harry. While the words were unintelligible, his intent was clear — nothing but threats and promises of retribution. Clearly, Harry still had some work to do in order to get his point across.

With two rapid flicks of his wand, both of the Slytherin's nostrils sealed themselves shut, completely robbing him of the ability to breath. Malfoy's eyes practically bulged out of his head, and he immediately started panicking, desperately looking around for someone to help him. Tightening his grip on Malfoy's robes, Harry leaned in and spoke to him in a low voice.

"You seem to think that just because your father's master is back, that somehow makes you untouchable. Well, I'm here to tell you that you're wrong about that — very wrong. No more games, Malfoy," Harry warned the Slytherin. "I'm taking threats to myself and my friends seriously this year. Like you said, there's a lot more at stake than house points."

Harry gave Malfoy one final shove against the glass before letting go of him. The boy's face was beginning to turn red, and tears had begun pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"Now, here's what's going to happen," said Harry. "I'm going to reverse my spells, and then you're going to take your lackeys and go. If you say a single word, I'll remove your mouth permanently. Do you understand?"

After receiving a frantic nod of agreement, Harry quickly revived Crabbe and Goyle before unplugging Malfoy's nose and restoring his mouth to its rightful place. "Go," he said, gesturing towards the door with his wand, and the three Slytherins hastily exited the compartment without looking back.

Harry sighed and closed the sliding door behind them. When he turned around, he noticed that the three girls had scrunched themselves up against the back wall of the compartment. Astoria was wearing a look of deep concern, while the other two seemed shocked by what they had seen.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," apologised Harry, returning his wand to his sleeve, "but believe me, he had it coming."

The girls all exchanged looks with one another, and Harry felt a brief stab of regret. He really hadn't meant to scare Astoria and her friends like that. In fact, for a few moments he'd honestly forgotten they were even there, his anger at Malfoy temporarily driving out any other thoughts.

Harry sighed and fretfully ran a hand through his hair. "I should probably go...sorry," he said, and then turned towards the door.

"Harry, wait," said Astoria, breaking out of her stupor and grabbing him by the sleeve. "Please stay," she pleaded. "I'm sorry. We know you would never hurt us. We just aren't used to that sort of thing, and it was a bit frightening."

"Thank you for saying that, but I really should go. I've bothered you and your friends long enough, and I haven't seen Ron and Hermione since we got on the train."

"Please, I really would like you to stay just a bit longer — if you don't mind of course," she implored him. "I think Draco is unlikely to come back and try anything, but I'd feel better if you were here, just in case."

Felicity and Noreen shared a look, and with a nod they both reclaimed their previous seats. Harry looked into Astoria's eyes and saw that she was being completely genuine with her request, so with a resigned sigh, he nodded and sat back down. For one long, uncomfortable minute, the four of them sat there in silence until Noreen finally spoke up.

"You used nonverbal magic," she said, looking directly at Harry.

"I did."

"How many spells can you cast silently?"

"A few," he replied vaguely. "I've only just started."

"Impressive," she remarked, and then picked up her book and resumed reading.

"That was amazing," declared Felicity, breaking the tension. She quickly got up and moved across the aisle to sit next to Astoria, forcing her to slide closer to Harry. "Don't worry, Harry. It sounded like he was threatening you, and we'll say so if anyone tries to get you in trouble."

"Thanks."

"I mean it!" she reiterated. "I've never liked him, anyway. What were those spells you used?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "Just something I picked up in a book," he replied.

Astoria gave him curious look, but she didn't say anything. When Felicity eventually left to go the loo, Astoria leaned over to whisper in Harry's ear. "That was something you practiced with Daphne, wasn't it?" she asked him.

He turned and looked at her in surprise.

"I'm not naïve, Harry," she told him, giving Harry a pointed look. "I know you two practiced dangerous spells whenever I wasn't around. Daphne isn't as clever as she thinks she is."

"I see," Harry replied hesitantly.

"I'm not mad or anything. I don't like violence, but I understand that fighting is sometimes necessary. Just don't expect me to do any of it."

"Are you sure?" he asked her, more relieved than anything.

"Of course, I'm sure," she replied, with just a hint of a grin. "Why do you think I made sure to leave you and Daphne alone for at least an hour every day?"

Harry just stared at her for a moment before grinning and shaking his head. Astoria was indeed a clever witch, and judging by the wry look she was giving Harry, she knew it too.

A short while later, Felicity returned to the compartment and reclaimed her spot next to Astoria, as Noreen didn't appear to be in the mood for conversation. While the girls chatted with one another, Harry rested his head against the back of his seat and closed his eyes.

The altercation with Malfoy had left Harry feeling slightly puzzled. The confrontation was inevitable, of course — that wasn't what was bothering Harry. It wasn't his performance, either. He was actually rather pleased with the way he had conducted himself. What vexed Harry was how ruthless he had been. He had taken aggressive action against the three Slytherins without hesitation, and he had threatened Malfoy calmly and with little thought to the potential consequences.

Harry wasn't too worried about Malfoy or what he might try to do in retaliation. What concerned him was what the incident said about himself and the person he was becoming. There were too many variables to pinpoint a cause, but he had enough self-awareness to realise that the Harry Potter of even a few months ago would never have acted in such a manner.

"The Harry Potter of a few months ago barely survived the graveyard," he reminded himself, before shaking away the intrusive thoughts. It wouldn't do to let Malfoy of all people ruin what had, up until that point, been a rather pleasant train ride. Harry shifted in his seat and allowed his mind to wander to more leisurely activities — namely, the upcoming Quidditch season.

oOoOoOo

Harry bent low over his Firebolt, urging the broom to push beyond its limits as the Snitch flitted just out of reach. He dove after it, and his fingers had almost closed around the tiny golden ball when he was awakened by a hand gently shaking his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, and he saw Noreen crouched over him with a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"There you are," she said, before sitting back down. Harry noticed that both she and Felicity had changed into their Hogwarts robes. "We're getting close to Hogsmeade, so you two should probably get changed."

That was when Harry first noticed the small weight pressed up against his side. Looking to his right, he saw that Astoria had apparently dozed off too, while also managing to use his shoulder as a pillow.

"She fell asleep a little while after you did," explained Felicity. "You looked so cozy together that we thought it best not to wake you, but like Noreen said, we're almost there."

Harry nodded, thankful that the girl had refrained from saying anything more embarrassing, even though it looked as if it was taking all of her effort not to do so. Realising that Astoria wasn't going to wake up on her own, he reached over with his left hand and lightly jostled her right shoulder.

"Astoria, wake up," he said quietly.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Astoria quickly sat up and rubbed her eyes. It took her a moment to realise what had happened, but when she did, her cheeks flushed, and she looked at him with wide eyes.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that, I promise!"

"No harm done," he said with a laugh. "I only just woke up myself."

Astoria relaxed slightly at Harry's words, though she was still clearly embarrassed. Feeling that a distraction might be appreciated, he grabbed his school robes from his trunk and excused himself to go change in the lavatory. He took his time and only returned to the compartment after several minutes had passed, making sure to knock first before opening the door. As he had hoped, all three girls were already dressed and back in their original seats, and it wasn't long before the train arrived at Hogsmeade Station.

"Are you sure you don't want to take a carriage with us, Harry?" asked Felicity a few minutes later, as they stepped off the train and onto the platform.

"I really should go find my friends," said Harry, shaking his head. "Thanks, though, and thanks for sharing your compartment with me, too. Unwelcome visitors aside, I really enjoyed the trip."

"So did we, Harry. It was definitely more interesting than the usual journey, that's for sure," she replied with a laugh.

"I'm sure," chuckled Harry.

"I hope we'll be seeing more of you, then?" she added questioningly, her eyes flitting towards Astoria.

"I would expect so," he confirmed, receiving a wide smile in return.

Felicity looked as though she had more to say, but Noreen grasped her by her elbow and led her towards the carriages. Once they had gone, Astoria shook her head and looked up at Harry.

"Sorry about her; she can be a bit enthusiastic at times."

"Not to worry. Your friends seem nice — Felicity and Noreen, at least. I don't think the bloke cared too much for me."

"Who, Ethan?" she asked. "I wouldn't worry about him too much. He's a friend, but the three of us aren't really that close to him. He can be a bit closed-minded at times."

Harry nodded his understanding, and then neither of them spoke for a few moments.

"Well," continued Astoria, breaking the silence. "I should probably go catch up with the others. It was nice seeing you again, Harry."

"You, too."

"Don't be a stranger," she added, and with a small wave, Astoria left to go join her friends while Harry went off in search of his own.

After weaving through a few clusters of students, Harry found Ron and Hermione lingering nearby with Neville, Ginny, and an unfamiliar girl with stringy, waist-length blonde hair. Ron, being the tallest, was the first to spot Harry and beckon him over.

"There you are!" he exclaimed as Harry approached the group. "Where've you been this whole time? Ginny said you ran off with some girl."

"I didn't run off with anyone," he said, while Ginny avoided his gaze. "I did wind up in another friend's compartment, though. I meant for us to meet up eventually, but I never saw you walk by, and then I ended up falling asleep," he added with a shrug.

"Which friend, Harry?" asked Hermione curiously.

"Here we go," he said to himself before replying, "Astoria Greengrass."

"Who's that?" asked Ron, looking puzzled.

"She's a Ravenclaw, like me," said the blonde girl. "I like her. She's always been nice to me."

"Er — Harry, this is Luna. Luna Lovegood," Hermione said awkwardly.

"Nice to meet you," Harry greeted her.

"It's nice to meet you too, Harry Potter," replied Luna, looking at him curiously with her overlarge eyes.

Harry took a closer look at the girl, who was wearing radishes for earrings and a necklace made from what he suspected were Butterbeer corks. There was definitely something different about her, but Harry figured the same could be said about him, so who was he to judge?

"We should probably get going, if we don't want to walk to Hogwarts," remarked Ginny. The others quickly agreed, and they all started making their way towards the road just outside the station.

"So, this Greengrass girl...How d'you know her?" enquired Ron, as they walked.

"Oh...she wrote to me over the summer. She wanted to let me know there were people out there who didn't believe everything the Prophet was saying about me. I wrote her back, and we kept in touch ever since."

"The Daily Prophet is a horrible newspaper," Luna interjected. "They almost never report the truth, plus they're complicit in the Rotfang Conspiracy."

Harry pulled up short at that, but he decided it was better not to ask and simply agreed with the girl instead. He turned and noticed that Ron was still looking at him speculatively.

"So, is that who you were writing to at...you know, the place we were staying?" he asked pointedly.

Harry sighed internally. They knew that someone had helped him after he left the Dursleys, and Harry had later admitted to still being in contact with that person. He knew his friends would figure it out eventually, but he'd figured they'd at least get back to the castle first. Honestly, he was both surprised and a little impressed that Ron had made the connection before Hermione did.

"Yes, I'd rather not talk about it here, though," replied Harry, subtly indicating the crowd of people surrounding them.

Fortunately, Ron understood his meaning and said no more, although he shared a meaningful look with Hermione. They had just joined the throng of students queuing up to ride the horseless stagecoaches up to the castle, when something unusual caught Harry's eye.

The usual coaches were no longer horseless. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts; if he had to give them a name, he supposed he would have called them horses, though there was something reptilian about them, too. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither — vast, black leathery wings that wouldn't look out of place on a giant bat.

"What are those?" Harry wondered aloud, but the others were busy boarding one of the carriages and didn't hear him. Shaking his head in disbelief, Harry climbed into the coach and took a seat between Hermione and Neville.

They had just begun winding their way up the cobblestone path that led to the castle, when Hermione turned to Harry. "Is Astoria related to Daphne Greengrass?" she asked him.

"Yeah, Daphne's her older sister. I don't really know her, though," he lied, honouring his promise to keep their association to himself.

"Why does that name sound familiar?" Ron asked, as he gazed out the window.

"She's a Slytherin in our year," responded Hermione. Ron's eyes bulged slightly, and he whipped around to look at Harry.

"Like I said, I don't really know her," he lied again, holding up one hand in protest. "I think she mostly keeps to herself though. Besides, it's not like all Slytherins are bad."

"If you say so, mate," Ron said with a shrug, relaxing somewhat, even if he sounded sceptical.

"Well, our trip was rather pleasant, at least," continued Hermione. "Malfoy didn't even stop by to harass us this year."

A grin slowly formed on Harry's face. "That would be my fault," he said, and then leaned in to recap what had happened on the train.

oOoOoOo

The carriage came to a stop near the stone steps before the gigantic oak doors leading to the entrance hall. Harry jumped down first and immediately went up to touch the strange skeletal horse, which he had just learned was called a thestral — a magical creature that could only be seen by those who had witnessed death.

Luna, who had been able to see them ever since she came to Hogwarts, explained that they had always pulled the carriages. Harry supposed that witnessing Cedric's murder had granted him the ability to see them. He didn't understand why he hadn't seen them at the end of the last year, although he supposed he might've still been in shock at the time. While Luna's explanation of thestrals was appreciated — Hermione's confirmation that they were real even more so — Harry definitely felt better after touching one and confirming he wasn't just seeing things.

The group followed the crowd up the stairs and across the entrance hall, before taking a right through the open double doors and entering the Great Hall. It was just the same as always: the four, long House tables, the enchanted ceiling displaying the starry night sky, dozens of lit candles floating along the tables, and even a handful of ghosts gliding around.

As soon as he walked through the doors, Harry was filled with a sense of contentment. No matter what was going on outside the walls, there was just something about Hogwarts that felt like home.

As they entered the Hall, Luna broke off to find a place at the Ravenclaw table. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville found a spot about halfway along the Gryffindor table, while Ginny went a little further down to join some of her friends.

Attempting to distract himself from all the whispers and the staring directed at him, Harry began surveying the room with his eyes. Over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy was huddled in discussion with Crabbe, Goyle, and Theo Nott. Based on the dark looks they were sending his way, Harry assumed he was the topic of conversation — not that it worried him in the slightest.

Next, he caught sight of Daphne, who was sitting a short way down the table from Malfoy. Next to her was another girl he recognised from classes, though he couldn't remember her name. For a moment, Harry thought Daphne might have noticed him looking in her direction, but she gave no sign of recognition. Instead, she simply tossed her long, blonde hair over her left shoulder and continued on with her conversation.

Over at the Ravenclaw table, Luna Lovegood was sitting alone, reading a magazine of some sort. He then spotted Astoria at the far end of the table, sandwiched between Noreen and Felicity. The boy from earlier — Ethan, if he recalled correctly — had rejoined the girls and was sitting next to Noreen, though he was facing the other direction and talking to another Ravenclaw boy.

There wasn't much to see at the Hufflepuff table, although Harry did briefly wonder how those who knew Cedric were coping with his death. What gave Harry the most pause was who he saw at the staff table, or more accurately, who he didn't see.

"Where's Hagrid?" he wondered aloud.

"He wasn't at the platform either. That Grubbly-Plank woman was out there gathering the firsties, too," Ron informed him, gesturing with his thumb towards the staff table, where sat the older woman who had previously substituted for Hagrid.

"I hope he's not hurt or anything," Hermione said quietly. "He was off doing something for Dumbledore, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, that's right. Maybe he's just not back yet," Harry said hopefully.

"I hope you're right..."

Harry looked up at the staff table again and did a sharp double take. He had been so focused on Hagrid's absence that he hadn't noticed the other new addition.

"It's her!" he hissed.

"Who?" asked Hermione, turning to follow Harry's gaze.

Perched right next to Dumbledore was a short, squat woman with an amazingly toad-like face. She had a fluffy pink cardigan pulled over her robes and wore a rather hideous pink Alice band in her hair to match. The woman was smiling broadly as she surveyed the crowd of students, but Harry noticed that her pleasant expression didn't reach her eyes.

"It's that...Umbridge woman! She was at my hearing; she works for Fudge!"

"She works for Fudge?" repeated Hermione, while Ron occupied himself by making jokes about the woman's cardigan.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she glared up at the staff table. She had clearly made some sort of connection. Her explanation would have to wait, however, because at that moment, Professor McGonagall entered the Great Hall carrying the Sorting Hat and an old wooden stool, leading a line of nervous first years up the centre aisle.

The hat's song was a bit of a departure from the norm. Instead of simply describing the qualities preferred by each of the four Hogwarts founders, it had advised the school to band together and even warned them of impending dangers from external, deadly foes. The song had generated a fair amount of conversation amongst the students, but the Sorting Ceremony continued on as it always had until "Zeller, Rose" was finally sorted into Hufflepuff.

As the applause died down, Professor Dumbledore stood from his golden chair and welcomed everyone to Hogwarts, before officially opening the feast. Food instantly appeared up and down each of the House tables. Hungry as he was, the mixing of so many delicious smells instantly made Harry's mouth water.

Ron groaned in pleasure as he took a bite of an enormous pork chop, causing Harry to nearly snort pumpkin juice out of his nose. Hermione just shook her head and decided that Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, would make for better conversation.

Once everyone had eaten, the headmaster once again stood to give out his usual start-of-term notices. He confirmed that Professor Grubbly-Plank would be substituting for Hagrid, though he didn't specify for how long. He also introduced Dolores Umbridge as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, which Harry was sure didn't bode well for the future.

Evidence that his first impression was correct appeared a short moment later, when Professor Umbridge actually interrupted Dumbledore with a rather obnoxious "Hem, hem."

She stood and launched into a prepared speech that lost the attention of the majority of student within just a few seconds, although Hermione's eyes got more and more narrow the longer Umbridge droned on. Harry listened closely for a while but quickly gave it up as a bad job — he had already heard enough. He made eye contact with Hermione and nodded ominously. Fudge had definitely sent the woman to Hogwarts for a specific purpose. The only question in Harry's mind was whether she was here for him, Professor Dumbledore, or both.

After the feast, Ron and Hermione left to escort the first years to the Gryffindor common room — part of their duties as prefects. Harry had just fallen into step with Neville when a Hufflepuff prefect approached him and handed him a small scroll of parchment.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to give you this," she said, and then immediately turned around walked off in the opposite direction.

Checking first to make sure no one was watching him, Harry quickly unrolled the parchment and read the brief note within.

Dear Harry,

I request that you join me in my office this evening, as soon as you are able. Due to the current climate, I strongly suggest that you to wear your Cloak.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. I have been quite fond of Jelly Slugs as of late.

"This is it," thought Harry. "I'm finally going to hear the rest of the prophecy."

Shoving Dumbledore's note into his pocket, Harry hurried out of the Great Hall and up to the Gryffindor common room. He bypassed the crowded common room and practically sprinted up the stairs to the fifth-year boys' dorm. Once he was there, he threw open his trunk, took out his Invisibility Cloak, and stuffed it into the pocket of his robes.

After saying a quick hello to Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, who were just entering the dorm, he raced down the stairs and came face to face with Ron. At first, the redhead seemed confused by Harry's behaviour, but then a spark of recognition lit his face.

"Is it Dumbledore? Are you going to hear it?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, I think so," Harry replied quietly. "I'm heading up to his office now."

"All right, good luck."

Harry nodded and stepped towards the portrait hole, slipping on his Invisibility Cloak the moment he was out of sight. Fortunately, he didn't meet anyone on his way except for a couple of ghosts, and before long he was standing before the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office.

"Jelly Slugs," he whispered, and the gargoyle hopped aside.

The wall opened up, and Harry stepped onto the moving spiral staircase within and rode it upwards until he came to the gleaming oak door. The sense of anticipation that had been building since he first read Dumbledore's note hit its peak as he took hold of the griffin-shaped brass knocker and rapped once on the door.

"Enter," came a call from within.

Harry opened the door and found Professor Dumbledore sitting at his desk and reading through a stack of parchment. The headmaster was still wearing the deep purple robes he worn during the feast, though the matching hat was nowhere to be found.

"Good evening, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, as Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak.

"Good evening, sir."

Dumbledore set aside the parchment and examined Harry over his half-moon spectacles.

"I am sure you are most anxious to hear the prophecy, and so you shall," he assured Harry, while gesturing for him to take a seat. "First, however, I must ask how you have been feeling. Have you noticed anything different about yourself, now that you are rid of the soul fragment?"

Harry had to think about it for a moment.

"Well, now that you mention it...yes, I think so," replied Harry. "For starters, my scar hasn't bothered me, and I've been sleeping better."

Dumbledore nodded as if he'd been expecting that response, gesturing for Harry to continue.

"Also, I feel like it's easier to concentrate. This past week, I've been able to cast a few spells nonverbally, when I was really struggling before."

"Ah, so you have discovered the loophole in the Trace related to performing underage magic within magical households," remarked Dumbledore, though he sounded neither angry nor disappointed. "I had suspected as much, based on something you had said during our last conversation, but I was not certain."

Seeing no reason to lie, Harry answered, "Yes, sir. Sirius helped me practice almost every day."

"A reasonable use of your time, I would say. The fact that the Ministry cannot detect magic at homes such as Grimmauld Place is a rather poorly kept secret. Rest assured that you are far from the only student to take advantage of said loophole."

"Thank you, sir," grinned Harry. "Sirius did say that I improved a lot while I was there, but especially after the locket incident. He said my spells were a lot more powerful, and that my control seemed a lot better too."

"I see," Dumbledore replied thoughtfully. "And what do you think, Harry? Do you agree with Sirius's assessment?"

Harry rubbed the back of his head as he thought back to their last few training sessions, and then nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah, I'd say so. The funny thing is, I hadn't really noticed until Sirius said something. It all felt normal to me...natural, even. Sirius had me working on feeling my magic and channelling it into my spells, since I'd never actually done that before, so I guess I just figured that was why everything felt easier."

"Are you saying that until recently, you have never purposely directed your magic into your spellcasting?" asked Dumbledore, surprise evident in his voice. When Harry nodded in confirmation, the headmaster simply stated, "How fascinating...I must admit that I greatly look forward to seeing how much you have improved, but that is all I will say on the subject for now. Have you experienced any other side effects?"

For a moment, he considered telling Dumbledore about the incident with Malfoy on the train and his unusually ruthless response. It was likely completely unrelated, of course, but the fear that Voldemort's soul had left behind a permanent taint did briefly cross his mind. Regardless, the last thing Harry wanted was to give Dumbledore unnecessary cause for concern, so he ultimately decided to keep his fears to himself.

"No, sir, not that I've noticed."

"Very well, then," said Dumbledore. "There is one last thing, however. I request that you pay Madam Pomfrey a visit at your earliest convenience, as we previously discussed."

"Yes, sir."

"Splendid!" announced Dumbledore, rising to his feet. He strode across the room and retrieved the Pensieve, setting the basin on the desk. "And now, Harry, I shall show you the prophecy in its entirety."

Just as before, the slowly rotating form of Professor Trelawney rose up out of the Pensieve and intoned in a harsh, raspy voice:

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES...AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT...AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES...THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES..."

Professor Trelawney's figure sank back into the silver substance below, leaving the room in complete silence. Harry's head was swimming. He had no idea what to think, so for a few minutes he just sat there and replayed what he'd just heard in his head and tried to sort through what it meant.

"Sir..." he said after a while. "The part about marking him as his equal...is that why you're sure it's me, instead of Neville?"

"That is correct, Harry. His attempt to kill you when you were a baby resulted in his marking you as his equal, so to speak," explained the professor. "Voldemort, of course, never heard that portion of the prophecy. One does wonder if he would have acted differently, had he known the dangers of attacking you."

"What do you mean, sir?" he asked, frowning in confusion.

"Think about it, Harry. By taking action against you that night, Voldemort created his own worst enemy — the one with the power the Dark Lord knows not — you."

"Me? How can I be his worst enemy?" spluttered Harry. "I don't have any special powers or anything like that. I'm okay at magic, I guess, but nowhere near good enough to beat him. I'm not like you, sir."

"Harry, Harry, Harry," sighed Dumbledore, rising to his feet. "We are more alike than you could possibly know, but in other ways, I admit, we could not be more different," he said in a pensive tone, gazing out the window. "I do not believe the prophecy speaks of magical power, though you have far more of it than you currently understand."

Harry looked on as Dumbledore began pacing around the room.

"Voldemort knows and understands magical strength as well as anyone," the headmaster continued. "His knowledge of magic likely exceeds that of nearly everyone on the planet. It is not a battle of wands where you will hold the advantage, Harry — that is a power of which the Dark Lord certainly knows."

"Then how am I ever supposed to beat him?" replied Harry, almost pleading.

Dumbledore sighed heavily and resumed gazing out the window.

"Alas, I cannot provide you with a definitive answer to your question," he said quietly. "What I can tell you, however, is that you possess many qualities which Voldemort will never understand. It is in these qualities, I believe, that we must place our hope."

"I don't understand, sir. I don't have any special qualities," he murmured.

"Nonsense!" cried Dumbledore, once again turning to face him. "You, Harry, are one of the most remarkable young men I have ever met. One week ago, you fought off an attempted possession from part of Voldemort's soul and managed to expel a second piece of it in the process! Do you have any idea how extraordinary that is?"

Harry shook his head.

"I doubt that more than one out of a thousand wizards could have succeeded in even casting Lord Voldemort out, which has nothing on the second, more impressive part of your feat. Do you recall telling me how you finally overcame him?"

"Not really," replied Harry, wearing a puzzled expression. "He just sort of gave up. I thought I was going to die...at one point, I think I actually wanted to, just to make the pain stop. But then, everyone was there trying to help me, and...I don't know, I guess I just started thinking about my friends and Sirius, and..."

"Love, Harry," professed Dumbledore, as he sat back down at his desk. "In that moment, your love for your friends and family was the strongest weapon you could have possibly wielded against Lord Voldemort. Your feelings could only cause unimaginable pain to a soul as maimed and twisted as Tom Riddle's. You, on the other hand, were empowered by your strong emotions, and you used that strength to force the other piece of soul to escape, along with its brother."

"So...you're saying that love is the power he knows not?" replied Harry sceptically. "What am I supposed to do, then, hug him to death?"

"No, Harry, that would not be my recommended course of action," said Dumbledore, his beard twitching slightly. "Consider this," he continued, "Tom Riddle does not understand love, nor does he have any desire to. He has no friends, believing them to have no value. His servants follow him either out of fear, or because they believe they have something to gain by allying with him. Do you understand where I am going with this?"

"I think so," mused Harry, his mind drifting back to his feelings of contentment as they sat around the table at Grimmauld Place. "Is it something about how we have something worth fighting for, and they don't?"

"Precisely!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "And yet that is not all. You have inspired deep loyalty in nearly everyone who has been granted the opportunity to know the real you. At this point, your friends would do nearly anything for you — a fact for which I, along with a roomful of adults, recently received a rather vocal reminder."

Harry smiled at the thought of his bushy-haired friend lecturing the Order of the Phoenix and wondered if he could convince anyone to share a Pensieve memory of the event.

"Yes, you have very good friends, Harry. You also have more allies than you know, and you could have even more if you were to allow more people to get close to you," the headmaster continued wisely.

That was something that Harry had been considering, especially after spending time with Daphne and Astoria. Their meeting had been one of circumstance — luck, even. How many more potential friends could be out there waiting for him, if only he put forth just a little bit of effort?

"Also, let us not forget that you are also perhaps the only wizard to have ever successfully thrown off Voldemort's Imperius Curse," continued Dumbledore. "That very same evening, you won a second battle of wills by forcing Voldemort's wand to submit to yours after they had connected. Do you have any idea how remarkable that is, let alone at fourteen years of age?

"My point is that you are strong, Harry. Your inner strength alone is extraordinary, but what sets you apart is the way you build strength through your close connections to others. Conversely, those around you draw strength from you, and knowingly or not, use their connection to you to drive themselves forward. That, Harry, is a power that the Dark Lord certainly knows not."

With that, Dumbledore sat back in his chair and folded his hands in front of him on his desk. It all sounded rather far-fetched to Harry, but he had to admit that there was a ring of truth to the professor's words. It may not have been the guarantee of victory that Harry had been hoping for, but he couldn't deny that a small spark had formed within him.

"You see, Harry, while the prophecy names you as the one with the power to vanquish Lord Voldemort, that does not mean you must go it alone."

"I think I see that now, sir," Harry responded, somewhat more confidently.

"I am glad to hear it. I wish I had more specific answers for you, I sincerely do," Dumbledore told him earnestly. "For now, all I will say is that if you stay true to yourself and to those around you, then there is no doubt in my mind that you will eventually triumph."

Sagging in his seat, Harry thought hard about everything Dumbledore had told him. It was a lot to take in, but he had somehow come away feeling both better and worse than he had before. Still, the feeling of knowing was at least an improvement over his prior uncertainty. Looking up, he locked eyes with Dumbledore.

"Thank you, sir," he said resolutely.

"You are most welcome," the headmaster replied sincerely. "Now," he continued, rising to his feet, "I believe it is time for you to return to your dorm for the evening. One wouldn't want to meet their first day of classes with less than a proper rest."

Harry had more questions, but he was too tired to press the issue, so he simply nodded in agreement.

"I should also inform you that I have not forgotten my promise," added Dumbledore. "You shall be receiving private instruction from myself throughout the year, though my other responsibilities do not permit me to follow a set schedule."

"I'm looking forward to it," Harry replied happily.

"Good...I also believe there is some wisdom in making our meeting times unpredictable, regardless. May I assume that you recognised Professor Umbridge from your hearing?" he said knowingly.

"Oh yeah, she made quite the impression," snarked Harry.

"Indeed...indeed..." chuckled Dumbledore, before speaking to him seriously once more. "You know to whom she reports. As such, I believe it inadvisable for our meetings together to become public knowledge. It is for that reason that I requested you wear your rather magnificent Cloak to my office."

"I understand, sir."

"Excellent. Now, she will likely attempt to provoke you," predicted Dumbledore, as he peered at Harry over his glasses. "I strongly advise you to avoid direct confrontation with Dolores Umbridge at all costs. She will take advantage of every possible opportunity to undermine or punish you. You must not give her that opportunity."

"I'll try, sir," promised Harry, though Dumbledore's warning gave him a distinctly uneasy feeling.

"I sincerely hope that you do, Harry. It is important to understand that the events which determine who wins or loses a war often occur far from the battlefield."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Harry, finally standing up. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Harry."