CHAPTER FOUR: WELCOME BACK

Diagon Alley

London, England

28 August 1994

"What about this one?"

Hermione blanched. "Please no."

Lily smirked. "But why?" she asked, giving the chartreuse fabric a swirl. "It'd be a flattering color on you."

They looked at each other for a moment, then burst into giggles. "You do have proper dress robes, right?"

"Of course. Harry's godfather insisted on buying them for me."

"Ah, so they're nice then."

Hermione nodded fervently. "Acromantula silk, and double-lined. I tried to convince him not to buy them because they were rather expensive, but once he gets an idea in his head, he becomes very mule-headed."

"I extend my sincerest condolences," Lily said, straight-faced. "It must be absolutely terrible to own an expensive pair of dress robes. I don't know how you can bear it."

"Oh, shut it."

They exchanged another look, and once again delved into laughter. "Alrighty, we should probably head out now if we want to meet Millie in Flourish and Blotts."

They took one last look at the garish robes on the clearance rack before piling out of Madam Malkin's. Diagon Alley was crowded, as usual, for the end of August, with parents chivying their children along to buy school supplies and pods of students goggling at the latest Quidditch gear as they clutched large dripping ice creams from Fortescue's. Hermione and Lily expertly wound their way through the crowd, dodging floating shopping bags and avoiding hawkers.

At last, they arrived at Flourish and Blotts. Millie was there already, grinning broadly and excitedly waving hello. Hermione could have sworn the girl had grown by several more centimeters.

"How were your summers?"

"Good!" Lily enthused. "We went to Rome, and saw some pretty awesome gladiator fights at the Colosseum. There were two guys who took down a chimaera, which was incredible."

"The Colosseum?" Hermione checked.

"Yeah."

"Wasn't that destroyed?"

Lily winked. "Only the muggles think so."

Hermione shook her head. "When I think I've learned everything, stuff like this gets

sprung on me. I didn't even know just how awesome the real Stonehenge was until this summer when the camp I went to had a field trip there."

"Eh, you're fine, Hermione. Which camp were you at?"

"The one sponsored by Lord Gaunt."

Lily and Millie exchanged a look that Hermione couldn't quite decipher. "And how was that?"

"It was pretty fun, actually. I even got to go the Quidditch World Cup."

Millie brightened. "Really? What did you think? Did you see Krum? Isn't he just amazing?"

"Yes, it was great, yes, and yes," Hermione said, "I mean, it was Quidditch, but wow, it was good. Definitely a lot more interesting than watching school games."

Millie nodded fervently. "I can only imagine the ideas Harry's going to get for drills after watching the World Cup. Higgs will probably go along with it, too."

"Oomph."

"Yeah."

"Are we going to get our books or just stand here talking?" Lily asked.

"Sorry," Hermione and Millie chorused.

"It was her fault!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing a finger at Millie. "She's the one who started talking about Quidditch!"

"Oi!"

"Alright, alright, so books," Lily interjected. "What do we need?"

Hermione unfurled the school supplies list from her pocket. "Let's see, the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four; The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection; Exotic Elixirs for the Intermediate Potioneer; Winogrand's Wondrous Water Plants, and I think that's it for core classes, since we're still using the Intermediate Transfiguration book. We need volume two of Numerology and Grammatica for Arithmancy; An Introduction to Runic Casting for Ancient Runes; and, Merlin save us, we'll be using the Monster Book of Monsters again for Care of Magical Creatures."

"Ugh, don't remind me of that horror."

"I was tempted to drop Creatures this year," Hermione admitted, "but I really want it for O.W.L.s next year."

"How'd you not end up in Ravenclaw?"

Hermione smirked. "Magic."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Ha ha."

Hermione stuck her tongue out in a fit of eloquence, and the trio set off into the depths of Flourish and Blotts. Hermione quickly found the texts she needed, then hurried over to the section on Dueling. She'd made significant progress over the past year, which could be largely attributed to Aria Nott. Now that the older girl had graduated, Hermione would once again be on her own, and she didn't think for a moment that Slytherin's resident Blood Purists had changed their minds regarding her. If anything, they would be more skilled than before, which made it even more important that Hermione continued to improve.

Hermione scanned the titles and the tables of contents before deciding on three books: Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts; The Darks Arts Outsmarted; and Curses and Counter-Curses. While Curses and Counter-Curses looked to be much lighter reading than the other two, it covered a far wider breadth which would be incredibly helpful for her.

Lily walked up behind her. "That's an aggressive amount of dueling books."

Hermione jumped. "Merlin, you startled me. And no, it's not. This one -" she gestured to The Dark Arts Outsmarted "-is technically a supplementary text for O.W.L. DADA."

Lily gave her a look, and Hermione stared right back, daring her friend to challenge her selection.

"Are you still worried about…" Lily began.

"Yes, and we can talk about it later when we aren't in the middle of a bookstore," Hermione cut in. While she had thoroughly humiliated Atlas Carrow and his cronies the year before, she wasn't going to put anything past them, especially given that there were five of them and one of her.

Lily opened her mouth to respond, but was spared from answering by Millie's arrival.

"I grabbed the last copy of Gwenog Jones' latest book," Millie said, puffing slightly. "Nearly snatched it out of Angelina Johnson's hands. The Gryffindors aren't going to be happy with me."

"...that's great, Mil."

Millie looked between the two of them. "Did I miss something?"

"No, just Hermione's absurd amount of extra book purchases."

"You're one who has the boxed set of the Mysteries of Hretha trilogy," Millie pointed out. "At least me and Hermione bought useful books."

Lily sniffed primly. "Reading creative literature expands the mind."

Millie rolled her eyes. "Sure it does. I swear, if you think Hretha should have ended up with Lazarus instead of Cato, I will fight you."

"...er…"

"You can't be serious! Lazarus is the stupidest character in the series!"

"Well…"

Millie and Lily continued to bicker all the way to the cashier, down the Alley, and didn't stop until they arrived at Fortescue's. Harry and Ron were there already, and tackling the most enormous ice creams Hermione had ever seen.

"We saved you seats!" Ron called, gesturing to their table. "Also, don't try the currant ice cream unless you really like currants."

Hermione nodded at the sage advice, and went off to order herself a reasonably sized triple chocolate cone. They ate in silence for several minutes, savoring the delicious ice cream and trying to avoid drips, since Hermione had decided not to spend the extra three Knuts for a Drip-Free cone.

"So, how was everyone's summer?" Ron asked.

"The Quidditch World Cup was amazing!" Millie gushed as Hermione and Lily groaned in unison. Quidditch was fine and all, but did they really need to discuss the same game sixty times?

After several minutes of heated debate about whether Krum had made the right decision, there was a lull in the conversation, which Hermione used to interrogate Ron about his Gringotts job. The work sounded interesting on a conceptual level, albeit rather dull in reality. Hermione decided she would thoroughly research similar opportunities for herself for the next summer.

"Does anyone have any good advice about what I should do about Sirius?" Harry asked suddenly.

"What'd he do?"

Harry fiddled with a couple of cone crumbs that'd fallen onto the table. "He keeps buying me things. He just got me the latest edition of the Firebolt despite the fact that he got me the first edition last year for Yule, and the amount of Galleons he's spending makes me uncomfortable. I don't need him do any of those things; honestly, just having time away from the Dursleys is good enough."

"Have you tried talking to Sirius about it?"

"Yeah. Kind of. He always says things about making up for lost time."

"Maybe he would be more receptive if you told him it made you uncomfortable?"

Harry didn't look convinced. "Maybe. I could try."

"I wish I had the problem of my relatives spending too much money on me," Ron said, jealousy creeping into his voice. "The only one I have left besides Mum is Great-Aunt Muriel, and she has a tighter grip on her Galleons than a dragon has on its hoard."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air.

"So, what does everyone think the mandatory dress robes are for?" Lily asked in an effort to change the subject.

"I dunno, but I got new glasses when we were out buying mine," Harry said. "They're charmed with Impervius, so they won't get blurry or foggy when I play Quidditch in bad weather."

Hermione resisted the urge to bang her forehead against the table at Harry's lack of tact and the inevitable turn the conversation took towards Quidditch.

Hogwarts Express

Somewhere, United Kingdom

31 August 1994

Harry watched idly as Ron moved forth his knight, clearly on his way to trouncing Hermione in chess once again, much to her obvious displeasure. Lily was curled up in a corner reading a book, and Millie and Theo were engaged in a heated whispered discussion. Theo had beggared his way into their compartment - apparently, Malfoy was acting too strange for words, and Blaise was walking around with a stick up his arse after the events of the summer. Harry had no idea why that was, especially since it was Blaise's mum who'd been dumped at the altar.

"Did anyone hear who the new prefects are?" Lily asked.

"Evan Rosier and Cassandra Parkinson are the new Slytherin prefects," Millie said, abandoning her conversation with Theo. "Pansy's been bragging about it all summer. She thinks she's going to get special privileges because her cousin is in charge."

"Gross."

"I know."

"Anyone know the other houses' prefects?"

"I think it's Marietta Edgecombe and Silvanus Scabior from Ravenclaw," Theo said, ticking them off on his fingers, "Richard Fortescue and Maxine O'Flaherty from Hufflepuff, and Ava MacBeth and Jamie McGonagall from Gryffindor."

"Of course old McGonagall would choose her nephew for prefect," Millie grumbled. "Euan got it in his year, too."

"Grand-nephew," Theo idly corrected. "Jamie is the grandson of old McGonagall's younger brother. Euan is the grandson of her older brother, Moray, the clan head."

"Sounds like they get special privileges," Harry complained.

"Who else would they choose for the Gryffindor prefect in that year? McLaggen?"

"The berk who thinks he's a Quidditch star?"

"That's him."

"Urgh. Thank Merlin he's not a perfect."

"Exactly. It's not as if Slytherin prefect selection is any less biased, anyway," Theo continued. "I don't even know how far back you'd have to go to find a prefect who didn't have a family member in the House of Lords."

Across the compartment, several chess pieces fell to the ground.

"Oi!" Ron complained.

Hermione, meanwhile, looked furious. "Excuse me?"

"What?"

"Only people with strong political connections become Slytherin prefects, or prefects at all?"

Theo looked rather uncomfortable. "Er, it's not a rule persay, just a tendency…"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Hermione demanded.

"Well...ah...purebloods just tend to do better academically, and have more leadership positions in clubs, and such…"

Hermione pounced. "Purebloods do better academically, huh? Yeah, right. If that was true, how in Merlin's name would I have been top in our year in every class?"

"I didn't say always, just tend to…"

Hermione cut him off. "Maybe you should think before you speak, Nott."

"Look, Hermione, you're taking this the wrong way, you know that's not what I meant."

"Hmph. I bloody well better get prefect next year, if good marks are all they're looking for."

"...and leadership…"

"I'll re-establish the Dueling Club or something. Anything to show that muggleborns can be just as good at purebloods."

An uncomfortable silence descended over the compartment, with the exception of whispered chess instructions and quiet cursing from Hermione's direction as she continued to lose against Ron. Harry wasn't sure what to think. Millie, Lily, Theo, and Ron all had the advantage of not only having direct relatives sitting on the House of Lords, but also coming from a long pureblood lineage. As a muggle-raised halfblood with a seat waiting for him on the House of Lords, Harry felt he didn't quite fit in any group, and he also had the added privilege of being the Boy-Who-Lived. Fame was useful sometimes, but Harry was tired of going to Chudley Cannons games with Ron and having everyone in the VIP box bother him for his autograph.

After what felt like ages, it was time to change into their school robes, and pile out of the train onto the blustery platform and into the horseless carriages. Harry pressed his nose against the window of the carriage, staring longingly at the welcoming bulk of Hogwarts looming above them. It'd been far too long since he'd been home.

The Sorting ceremony couldn't come soon enough. A line of small first years made their way across the dais, with one short boy swathed in Hagrid's overcoat. Harry idly wondered if the boy had tried to go swimming, or if the wind had blown him out of the boat.

Harry's stomach rumbled, distracting him from the Sorting Hat's song, which, from the parts he had paid attention to, seemed just as corny as it'd been the previous year.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward. "When I call your name, please sit on the stool and place the Hat on your head to be Sorted. Creevey, Dennis!"

The small boy abandoned Hagrid's overcoat and plunked himself down on the stool.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Del Valle, Carla!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Fergusson, Douglas!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Greengrass, Everard!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Gustafson, Marley!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry quickly lost interest in the Sorting Ceremony, only remembering to clap when 'Kaltwasser, Sylvia,' became a Slytherin. He was too hungry to focus on the Sorting, and far too busy scheming how to convince Millie to lend him the latest Gwenog Jones book. At long last, the line of first years dwindled down to three.

"Slughorn, Elsie!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Thompson, Nigel!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Vance, Elvira!"
"RAVENCLAW!"

Professor McGonagall made her way back to her seat, and the Headmaster stood. "Welcome back to another wonderful year at Hogwarts. Our staff has several surprises in store for you this year, but I'm afraid those announcements will have to wait until after the feast. For now, I will limit my comments to a few words of wisdom from my good friend and colleague Nicolas Flamel: 'You must learn to question everything. To wait before moving, to look before stepping, and to observe everything.'" Dumbledore sat down, and immediately the tables were groaning with food.

Harry turned to Ron. "What do you think he means by 'several surprises?'"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno. We'll find out soon enough. Pass the potatoes, would you?"

Harry passed them, although not before taking a large dollop for himself. The feast seemed to drag on now that there were mysterious surprises in store.

When the main courses cleared away, Harry helped himself to a generous slice of treacle tart as conversation turned once again towards Quidditch. Harry had finally convinced Higgs to have a full team of reserves instead of just a few reserve players for each position when the last of the desserts disappeared and the Headmaster stood once more.

"Now that we are all fed and watered, I have several important announcements to make," Dumbledore began. "Firstly, there will be no Inter-House Quidditch tournament this year."

Commotion erupted in the Great Hall, and Harry looked at Ron in abject horror. "What does he mean, no Quidditch?"

Ron's brow furrowed. "I dunno. Doesn't seem like he's joking, either…"

Dumbledore set off several firecrackers out of his wand to regain silence. "Secondly, Hogwarts will host the Triwizard Tournament this year."

Commotion reigned once more, and Hermione leaned across the table. "Is he barmy? The tournament hasn't been held since 1792 after a cockatrice mauled all three school Heads."

Dumbledore set off more firecrackers, and the Great Hall quieted down once more. "For those of you who are unaware, the Triwizard Tournament is a friendly competition between three of the oldest European wizarding schools: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang."

"Olympus is older," Hermione muttered.

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore continued, "the tournament has been discontinued since a particularly unfortunate incident in 1792 involving a cockatrice. Recent negotiation with the respective Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have led to a revival of the tournament along with several adjustments to bring it into the twentieth century as well as avoid high mortality rates. In two weeks' time, delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive at Hogwarts, and they will be lodged in the East Wing. I fully expect you to extend them every courtesy, as they will not only have the opportunity to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, but also join our classes.

"Both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will bring several of their professors who will guest-instruct classes to offer you new and interesting perspectives. Now, I am certain you all are quite curious about the logistics of the tournament. In the past, only one champion of any age has been allowed for each school, which not only reduced the number of students eligible to participate but also pit less-experienced students against challenges they were not equipped to face, which greatly contributed to the fatality rate.

"For this reason, the Triwizard committee has decided to divide the tournament into three age brackets: third and fourth year students; fifth and sixth year students; and students who are of age. This will allow for three champions per school with one in each bracket.

"For all those not involved in the Triwizard Tournament, we will have other opportunities to foster international competition and cooperation, which includes a Quidditch tournament, a chess tournament, and a dueling tournament."

A buzz of curiosity filled the Hall.

"Madam Hooch will hold an informational meeting about the Quidditch tournament once Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive. Those interested in participating in the Inter-School Chess tournament should speak to Barclay Urquhart, Palin Patil, or Aoife Moran. Professor Runcorn is seeking students with dueling experience to assist with running the dueling tournament. If you are interested, speak to him during his office hours, which are posted on your common room notice boards.

"Before we get into our annual announcements, I would like everyone to extend a warm welcome to our new first and second year Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, veteran Auror Alastor Moody."

A grizzled wizard stood up and glared at them. Several students clapped nervously, but stopped once they realized they were the only ones.

"Professor Moody is highly experienced, and is an excellent resource for anyone interested in the Auror program. Now, for our annual announcements, Mr. Filch would like me to remind you that eight new items have been added to the forbidden items list, which can be found on his office door…"

Harry tuned out the rest of Dumbledore's announcements as his mind spun. This year certainly wouldn't be dull.

A/N: To answer the Guest reviewer's question on the previous chapter about Cornelius Fudge...the reason he's still in power is two fold: it's a case of better-the-devil-you-know, and the fact that the Blood Purists and Traditionalists have a vested interest in having a Minister they can control. Fudge also hasn't had to deal with any incredibly controversial issues, with the exception of Sirius Black and the other "innocent" Death Eaters, and while he certainly isn't a good Minister, he isn't a bumbling fool. Lucius (and many other of the narrators) aren't completely reliable.