A/N: I don't know if I've mentioned this before, or if you all have figured it out, but a galleon is equal to £50.
Wow, I am seriously humbled, guys. This story is officially over 100 favorites. I seriously can't believe it. I feel as if Bragi himself smiles upon me.
I've noticed some authors say that they agonize over and rewrite entire chapters. While I've experienced this with a portion or paragraph, I've not experienced second-guessing an entire storyline like I've read some do. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that I don't second-guess my writing, but it is odd, as I second-guess everything else I do in my life. What a weird place to find confidence!
Anyway, back at it.
mikeblade: Thank you. The app does that sometimes
Harry opened his eyes slowly; he had no idea how long he had been asleep, but his entire body ached. He moved and sat up slowly, and a soft pop alerted him to the arrival of a house-elf.
Toppy, the elf, stood at the foot of his bed, wringing the loose toga that he wore in worry.
"It be a hard price the Lord Potter pays to secure his home, Master. I am sorry I did not warn you of it, sir, but it was necessary for the protection of our home."
"It—" Harry's voice cracked from being dry, and the elf snapped in a glass of cold, fresh water, which Harry immediately drank.
"It's fine, Toppy. My body isn't used to being still for that long, so I'm sore, but other than that, I'm alright. How long has it been? It feels like a long time."
"It has been four days, sir. We have cared for you since you emerged from the sanctum. I have two potions for you, sir: one for the pain and the other is a general healing potion that will help your muscles recover from atrophy,sir, make you not so stiff" Tappy popped in and placed the two potions on the table next to Harry's bed. Harry sat up and drank them down in the next few minutes.
"The wards have been raised again to protect you from harm while you were recovering. You will need to use the ward book in the master's office to fix the ward level and allow back any and all friends. Any previous allowances have been removed by the restructuring of the wards, burned away by their fire. All pests have also been removed: five boggarts were removed from the basement, and four doxie colonies were burned away. Their mess has already been repaired and cleaned."
It was several hours later that a showered, laundered, and fed Harry Potter stumbled out of the Floo from Blackstone Hall and into his sitting room in the furnace. He had told the house-elves that this was his main residence and that they were more than welcome to come and spruce the place up, something they hadn't been able to do until he lowered the war wards on Blackstone Hall that prevented them from leaving.
Toppy informed him that the four elves would be jumping around, fixing up the eight other Potter properties. He also said that if they needed help with pests, they would contact him. Once that was done, one of the elves would stop by and care for their master's new home.
Harry didn't expect to see them until he was off to Hogwarts.
Once again, on his table was a slightly larger collection of letters that his hidden guards must have collected and examined, along with two copies of the newspaper "The Daily Prophet."
There were six letters.
One, from Daphne Greengrass, surprisingly, among other things, was simply asking after him.
Another letter from the manager of the potions shop he now owned in Diagon Alley, noting a 20 percent uptake in customers now that "the boy who lived, Harry Potter" was supplying the shop with "Potter family recipes" and asking that he actually do that as they were legendary in the potions field.
1 letter from the Ministry noting the restructuring of the Potter wards and asking to be allowed to examine them for weaknesses as part of his protection detail.
(which he subsequently denied; the wards were enough on their own to protect him, and the lords book had warned not to let anyone not of the family snoop around them.)
The booklist for Hogwarts finally arrived, a week and a half before school. They were cutting it close this year. It also listed McGonagall as Headmistress.
One from Hermione asking if he was all right and if she can come over this week and spend time with him or vice versa.
And one from Ted's Law Office with a receipt for payment that must have finally gotten transferred through Gringotts.
The Daily Prophet had two notes, one from the Tonks family and one from the Weasleys.
Upon opening the one from Tonks, Harry read the headline.
"MINISTRY EMPLOYEE AND NIECE FOUND."
Early on Wednesday morning, the missing Amelia Bones and her niece were found and rescued from a property belonging to Elphias Doge, a longstanding friend and supporter of Albus Dumbledore, who claimed to have kidnapped and killed the two in a public display of madness last week. They were found once the DMLE was given permission to raid the properties of Doge, who was killed by Aurors in the confrontation between Dumbledore's group and the Boy Who Lived. Both women are expected to make a full recovery.
Harry was elated as he read. He didn't know Susan very well, but he thought very highly of Amelia Bones and was very pleased to see that they were both all right.
The other from the Weasleys was also good news and answered a question from his Hogwarts letter.
With Albus Dumbledore's flight into criminality, a new headmaster was sought, and amid a string of recommendations, Minerva McGonagall was appointed to head Hogwarts.With her busy schedule running the most important institute of education in our nation, it comes as no surprise that Minerva McGonagall has stepped down from her long-time role as mistress of transfiguration.
Who could replace her as a professor in what is arguably the most difficult, dangerous, and important subject taught at Hogwarts? Molly Weasley has been appointed to this role. See pages 8-9 for interviews with Minerva McGonagall and to see Molly Weasley's qualifications.
At this, Harry was very excited. He had only just met Mrs. Weasley, but he felt she would be a fantastic teacher—with any kid that wasn't hers, at least.
Poor Fred and George. Well, I might as well see if Hermione wants to go school shopping with me.
And so it was, three hours later at 2:00 p.m., that Harry and the Grangers found themselves in a tightly packed Flourish and Blotts, where a famous wizard was having a book signing. It was the same wizard who had written the entire Defense booklist. As they got in line, they caught sight of the Weasleys further up the queue as some loud scuffle broke out between Mr. Weasley and Lord Malfoy. The place was so packed, however, that they couldn't get much closer. The elder Malfoy stormed off, and the author, a man named Gilderoy Lockhart, could be seen bouncing up and down in excitement, although Harry and the Grangers were too far away to hear him. The Weasleys got their books signed and left after a short chat with Harry and Hermione, as they were still waiting. But when it finally came time for Hermione to get her books signed, Harry couldn't be bothered either way and was simply keeping his friend company. Lockhart signed her books with a lot of smiles and flourished quill strokes, but as he looked at Harry, he did a double-take, and his eyes scanned Harry's forehead.
"It couldn't be! Harry Potter himself, here to buy my books and get a signed copy of my autobiography, "Magical Me." Come around here, Harry, let's have one together for the Prophet, and you can have your copy as a personal gift from me!"
And he pulls Harry around the table, and by the connection of their hands, Harry pulls Hermione with him.
"A big smile, Harry! Together, you, your lovely friend, and I will be enough to make the front page!" Gilderoy Lockhart shouted while beaming and pulling Hermione over to his other side. She was beaming as well and waving to the camera, so he smiled his best and tried to match Hermione's waving energy. As a flash brightened the room, it was followed by a giant puff of smoke.
"And ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement I've been sitting on! Harry and his friend here came to get a signed copy of my autobiography, "Magical Me," but little did they know that they would soon be getting the "real" magical me! That's right, this September I will be stepping into the hallowed halls of Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Gilderoy Lockhart commanded the room with a lot of pompous flair that struck Harry the wrong way, eliciting a scowl from the young man. More smiles and more waves to the camera. Harry and Hermione were both gifted signed copies of the autobiography with a signature in golden ink that he apparently saves for special addressees.
With that circus out of the way, and it now being near dinnertime, Harry and Hermione returned to his flat for Harry to cook for the two of them. But when he stepped into his kitchen, he saw Tappy placing two fully cooked meals of steak, asparagus, and baked potatoes, with a bowl full of salad, on the table. The elf straightened up and bowed before popping away.
"Wow, great service! Er, thanks, buddy." Harry smiled.
"At least you appreciate them. I've been talking to wizards and reading books, and apparently, some—or I'd say most—wizards treat house-elves less than dirt. It's absolutely sickening, but yours seem happy, so I guess that's a positive."
"Perhaps I can use my Wizengamot seat to push for better laws surrounding house-elf treatment?"
"It's a good idea, but you know the wizarding world. It'll be an uphill battle." hermione said contemplatively while eating her steak. "ypu know i wander how tappy knows how i like my steak."
"'CRACK!' Tappy appeared. "It is our job to serve Mistress Herminy." To please my master's friend, I asked two who would know better than I." And then she disappeared with a mischievous grin.
"I wonder who she asked," Hermione said with concern in her voice.
"Your parents, I would imagine."
"Oooh! Yes, you're probably right. I'll have to ask them."
They continued with their meal, and Harry learned that Hermione eats salad after her steak. Apparently, it was better for your teeth to eat in that order.
"You know, I was never one for watching the tele, but I wonder if I can get one to work here. This building is on the outskirts of the alley, so the ambient magic won't be so strong, but maybe the wards will mess with it."
"It would be nice to watch a movie after dinner, although I suppose we can just pop over to mine for that. The Knight Bus shouldn't take that long."
And the teens did just that, spending the rest of the afternoon and evening watching a few movies from the Grangers' collection of VHSs. And it was only when Harry stepped into his flat, alone and tired, that his troop of elves popped in, carrying another elf—a restrained elf trussed up like a roast pig, complete with a large red apple shoved into its mouth.
The elf was pale and emaciated, covered in new and old wounds. An absolutely filthy tea towel covered its slight body.
Tuppy straightened up and addressed Harry. "We intercepted this elf trying to break through the wards of this building, Master. He is Dobby and claims to have a dire warning for you, Master."
"Well, let him speak then," said Harry quietly, sitting in a comfortable recliner.
After being released, the elf sat, breathing heavily. "I am Dobby, sir, and as the great Harry Potter's house-elf has said, I am here to make a dire warning! sir." The creature's large, bulbous, green eyes seemed to glow with worry.
"And, er... that would be what, exactly?"
"Oh, sir, dark things are planned this year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dark and unspeakable things, sir. The great Harry Potter must not go back, sir. He must leave the school where he is safe."
"Dobby, I have to go back to Hogwarts. It's where I belong. After what's happened this year and last year, a little mortal peril isn't going to stop me from going back."
"But you must, sir, you must know that history is to repeat itself once more. You must stay away where it is safe!" The little elf held out his arm to Harry as if to try to save him then and there but flinched in pain as he raised his bony frame. He dropped his arm, limply breathing heavily from the shock of the pain he had just put himself in. "If only you knew, sir, knew how much you mean to us, the beaten down, the enslaved. Sir, dark times, sir, and we house elves were treated like vermin, sir. Dobby is still treated like vermin." The elf's long ears drooped to the floor in his misery.
"Dobby, who did this to you? Who gave you these injuries?"
"Dobby did, sir. Dobby is ordered to punish himself, sir, and if his punishment is not severe enough on its own, then he must punish himself harder, sir. And the master takes his frustrations out on Dobby as well, sir."
"Is there anything we can do to help you, Dobby?"
"Don't go back, sir—" 'POP!' and Dobby Disapparated as if he were called away, which Harry realized he probably was.
"Did he say anything else, Toppy?" Harry asked with great concern for the beaten-down elf.
"Not much, sir, just that he wanted to warn you, sir. He seemed persistent, master. You will see him again should we continue to intercept him for you."
"No, I might be able to weasel some more information from him in the future."
As you say, Master, we are almost done fixing the outer properties, sir. You will not see them or us until your Christmas holidays. And so went the last of Harry's summer holidays. Hermione would come over most mornings and stay until her parents were off work. Ron would stop by a few times, and the three spent their days laughing and exploring Blackstone Hall. Harry found a heated underground swimming pool and spa that had apparently, according to the elves, not been used in nearly 100 years. Andromeda and Harry had the meeting with the Malfoys and Longbottoms and, through several hours of tense negotiations, worked out a contract for the Malfoy family contractors to clear the land of all overgrown magical plants and split the profits 60-40 in favor of the Malfoys. And then the Longbottom family will sow and work the fields from that point onward with a 30-70 split in favor of the Longbottoms. The houses built for the field hands were restored, and his elves quickly and happily agreed to work with and look after the Longbottoms while they were on the property, but not to allow themselves to be mistreated.
It was three days later, on the 31st, that Harry fell asleep in his Diagon Alley home with the Grangers filling the guest rooms, ready for the train ride the next day—back to his first home, back to Hogwarts.
'Knock, knock, knock.'
"Harry! Wake up, will you?" Hermione shouted from behind his bedroom door.
Harry grabbed his wand and cast a quiet Tempus Charm to reveal 8:15 a.m. "We are less than a 20-minute walk to the train station, and they can Floo there if they wanted. Why is she trying to wake me up this early?" groused Harry, flipping himself out of his sheets and comfortably warm bed.
Fifteen minutes later, I saw him done with his morning ablutions and glaring at Hermione, who was innocently crunching on a croissant, ignoring him. Dan and Emma were going through the checklists that Emma wrote for both kids, and it caused Hermione to choke when Emma asked if she remembered her "pads," which confused Harry as to why Hermione would need padding or why it was embarrassing. But Harry also knew that girls were confusing sometimes, so he chose not to ask. After all, Harry was equally embarrassed when Emma had asked if he had packed his underwear a minute before.
"So kids, do you want to walk with us to the station, or are you ready to throw yourselves into the fire to get rid of us old fogies?" grinned Dan Granger.
"I think that we're going to Floo," said Hermione. "Walking through London with our school things will raise a lot of eyebrows."
"We thought so as well, dear," said Emma. "We are going to miss you both, Harry. It truly has been wonderful meeting you, despite the trouble with the trial and the madman that's after you. So, you have until ten, and it's only nine. What should we do to fill the time, dear?"
"Breakfast would be fantastic!" giggled Hermione, and almost at once a full-service breakfast table appeared, loaded with everything from roast tomatoes and mushrooms to a plate of American waffles the size of Dan's head, and lots of bacon, sausages, and fresh fruit. The four of them dug in and had a great breakfast together, laughing and swapping stories from the past week: from Harry's negotiations to the Grangers' practice and Hermione's solo trip to Flourish and Blotts, where she encountered her first wizarding romance novel—or as Hermione called it, "a horrendous, lecherous thing involving far too many werewolves." It made the rest of them laugh at her pink face and laugh even harder as she pulled the flimsy paperback from her book, wrapped up as a "parting gift" to her mom.
After that, the Grangers enjoyed the few remaining minutes together before Harry's Tempus Charm displayed a smoky 9:55 a.m., and the two students knew it was time for them to go. Two long, heartfelt hugs for both of them by both of the Grangers, and Harry and Hermione and their luggage tumbled through emerald-green flames, landing in the busy and bustling wizarding section of King's Cross, where they passed the crowd and got onto the train, searching in vain for an empty compartment when, from just behind them, a feminine voice called out, "Potter!" causing them to stop and turn. Harry saw Daphne Greengrass there in the aisle with her hand up to get his attention. "Why don't you and Granger come and sit with me? It's only Tracy sitting with me currently."
Hermione looked at Harry. "Daphne's okay, I told you, but it's up to you, Hermione. If you want to try to find an empty compartment, I'll follow you."
"No, no, I'm sure this will be fine." And then he entered the compartment, greeting Tracy Davis, Daphne's Slytherin friend and the only known half-blood in Slytherin.
"Well, well, Potter and Granger, I never thought Mister and Missus Gryffindor extraordinaire would deign to give us lowly Slytherins their company," said Tracy icily.
Harry narrowed his eyes in response. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing for the ice queen and her preferred snake-skinned jester." Hermione looked nervous at this exchange.
"Now, Harry, just because—" Hermione started but was cut off by Tracy laughing.
"Oh, you're right, Daphne, he is rather funny! You'll do, Potter, you both may stay," said Tracy, relaxing into the cushion behind her. Right then, a troop of red-haired kids passed by the window, and Ron stopped, but seeing who Harry had as company, scowled and marched on and had disappeared into the crowd by the time Harry could open the compartment door.
"Forget it, Harry," said Hermione. "You know how Ron is; he'll probably come 'round by midday, you'll see."
"Yeah," said Harry, frowning at the crown before moving to sit next to Hermione.
The next few hours were spent by the four talking, getting to know each other as four new friends might, speculating on the coming year, the new teachers, and Daphne and Tracy asking Harry endless, speculative questions about Dumbledore—his reasons, his motives, things Harry nor anyone else aside from the old goat himself could really answer. And the time was also spent with the three girls talking about girl things in a way Harry could not follow, although he got the gist that they were comparing how witches and Muggle women handle some annoying event. It went over Harry's head. All this went on until, true to Hermione's prediction, Ron knocked on the door not five minutes after twelve o'clock.
They opened the door in response to the redhead's knock, and surprisingly, Tracy was the one to speak up in a friendly and teasing tone. "Here's Ron, how are you? Come to apologize for being a prat, then?"
"Err, yeah, I reckon I am then." The redhead seemed not to know how to handle Tracy's friendly demeanor.
"Right then, Weasley, get to it then. Daphne and I do need to use the loo, so excuse us." And the two girls quickly left the compartment.
"Right, erm, sorry, then why are you all holding up with a couple of snakes anyway?" asked Ron.
"Oh, they're not so bad, those two. At least you won't catch me getting buddy-buddy with Malfoy or his lot. But Daphne's dad helped me a lot with the emancipation. I'm thinking of using his export business when the new crops are ready for harvest."
Ron suddenly perked up. "Hey, speaking of snakes, where the ruddy hell is Smara?" he asked, looking around.
Harry pointed to the trunk on the luggage rack that was currently casting a shadow over them as their tops were fully in the midday sun. Up there, basking, she pigged out on four full-sized cavies. She's been pretty much comatose for two days now, the pathetic thing.
A half-hearted hiss could be heard from the tops of the trunks.
"What did she say?" asked Ron quickly, causing Harry to shrug.
"Sometimes, a hiss is just a hiss."
The girls came back shortly after that, and the three Gryffindors and two Slytherins had a fun time comparing the other people in their houses. From Wood and Flint being Quidditch-obsessed nutbars to Daphne and Hermione for both being the true Ravenclaws hiding among them. Eventually, even Ron, awkward at first, opened up and began having fun with the discussions. Until shortly before they arrived at Hogwarts, a familiar head of blond hair threw open the door to their compartment and sneered at the three Gryffindors. With the usual human boulders as a backdrop, the blond ponce strode into the compartment.
"Well, Potter, when I heard you'd taken over your family's business early, I thought you'd grown some brains, especially since you and my father are doing business together. But I see you're still hanging around with the dirty riffraff that's taken to polluting our society."
"Those are three insults, Malfoy—three that you get for free. If I hear one more from that gaping chasm you call a mouth, I will rescind my contract with your family and give it to the Longbottoms."
"You can't do that. My father showed me that contract. If you back out, you'll have to pay us three times the amount of the estimated profit," Malfoy said in his annoying faux superior tone.
"Then I suggest, Malfoy, that you read that contract again, or have someone read it for you since I doubt you can do even that by yourself. It states very clearly that if any in-house Malfoy insults the House of Potter, the Lord Potter, or any person deemed to be under the protection of the Lord Potter (which these two are, by the way), then I can call insult and resign from any business deals between our houses. I was very, very careful to put that in there, Malfoy, because I know you can't control your fat mouth, and I thought this would be a good way for you to practice shutting up when it's good for you. Oh, and if I break the contract due to insult, then your family must pay twice the cost for the Potter family to clear it in restitution, But that was in a different section of the contract, and you probably couldn't read that many big words." Malfoy, for once, seemed speechless. Harry thought that Malfoy knew he couldn't risk breaking the contract even if Harry was making up what he said, which he wasn't. "So, Malfoy, it looks like your daddy didn't show you anything only told you the basic outlook of the business deal, so it looks like he doesn't trust you to read contracts on your own. Now, leave before you make a bigger fool of yourself." And surprisingly, Malfoy wordlessly stormed off, knocking people out of his way as he left. Harry sat down, breathing heavily through sheer irritation. The three other occupants of the compartment looked at him with worry.
"I'm not taking any crap from Malfoy ever again. I'm the lord of an ancient and noble house, and he's a third-rate daddy's boy who barely rates as an heir. In fact, has he ever been called one before?" said Harry, his breathing settling as he spoke.
"He is technically the heir of the 'noble' House of Malfoy, but that's just because he is the only child of his parents. His father has not granted him the official title yet," explained Daphne in a clinical voice. "He only holds so much power in Slytherin because his family is extremely wealthy, and the children are afraid of making the Malfoy family angry and retaliating against theirs financially."
"His whole family is more rotten than pond scum," blurted out Ron angrily before changing the subject. "So, do you think they'll start lessons tomorrow? One day of lessons before the weekend doesn't make sense to me."
"They will most likely—yes, if just to hand out the syllabus and talk about the course aims for the year," said Hermione. "But it will most likely be an easy day, except for Binns. I don't think he stops teaching even in the summertime, just drones on day in and day out about whatever giant war or goblin rebellion catches its way through his mind.
As time passed, Harry made further visits to his friends Neville and the twins, as well as some friends of Daphne and Tracy from Slytherin, who didn't stay long. He even received a visit from Ron's little sister, Ginny, who was, as usual, star-struck by Harry. Harry thought she looked unwell. As they drew closer to Hogwarts, they all donned their Hogwarts robes, and Ron disappeared to the loo to change into his actual Hogwarts uniform to wear under his robes. However, he must have been held up by his brothers because he didn't return. They eventually found him on the platform, standing between his older brothers and giving Ginny a pep talk before she crossed the lake with Hagrid. Then, Harry, Hermione, Daphne, and Tracy bundled themselves into a carriage pulled by a skeletal black dragon-like horse creature.
"What are they?" Harry whispered. The creatures were as frightening as they were beautiful. He reached out and, after letting it smell his hand, began to stroke the creature's furless, well-muscled neck.
"What are you talking about, Harry?" asked Hermione.
"These!" Harry patted the creature on the neck, making a soft smacking noise.
"Oh!" said all three girls, but it was Daphne who spoke up. "They must be Thestrals. They're supposedly dark creatures who are only visible to those who have seen death."
"Well, that makes sense. I saw Quirrell die, and thanks to my uncle, I practically shook Death's hand," Harry explained glibly. Not wanting to hold up the line any longer, he climbed into the carriage and offered his hand first to Hermione, then Tracy, and then Daphne, helping all three girls into the carriage. After they all sat down, it began to trundle down the winding dirt track, up the long hill, and across the great stone bridge to the lights and heights of Hogwarts Castle. Harry and Hermione shivered as they passed through the school's ward system.
At this, Smara seemed to stir on Harry's neck. "Be still, morsel. It is hard to nap with you jibbering as well as dancing about at the slightest touch of magic.
"I apologize. Oh, great queen of serpents, I shall endeavor to hold still in the future," Harry said in English for his friends' benefit as he straightened up and locked his entire body into a weird pose for a few seconds before Smara whacked him on the back of his head with her tail, causing Harry to smile.
"You know, I know she's like one of the deadliest creatures in existence, but she truly is a gorgeous animal," said Daphne.
A bout of hissing preceded Harry explaining.
"For a hairless monkey, you are not as ugly as one wouldn't think either. You belong to my father's house, no?" Daphne nodded. "Then I shall join you tonight. It will do us both good to return to Slytherin grounds, and I can show you something I bet has been lost to time. I know many secrets of this school, as I witnessed its construction."
"That sounds like a plan, Smara. I can't wait. But how will we communicate? I am no parcel mouth," said Daphne.
"A short hiss, followed by Harry saying, 'Don't worry, she can communicate fairly well without words.'"
A short time later, Harry and Hermione were found sitting at the Gryffindor table. Harry, bereft of Smara's weight, watched as Smara herself was wrapped around Daphne's shoulders and given the welcome of a queen by the Slytherins. Daphne and Tracy told the Slytherin students the story that Harry had told them of Smara's origins. It seemed that the favor of Salazar Slytherin's own serpent had propelled Daphne into the upper echelons of Slytherin social circles—or perhaps "hierarchy" would be a better word. Harry saw from a distance that Malfoy seemed to be brooding over the loss of his sycophants, and even some teachers came from the High Table to speak to the snake and confirm the rumors. Most likely, Harry had, after all, had to submit a dangerous familiar form to the school to notarize her allowance into the school. With Professor Babbling's call that the first years had arrived, the crowd dispersed and found seats.
Following the sorting, where Ginny was, of course, sorted into Gryffindor along with a tiny, rather twitchy kid named Colin, and a few other first years, new Headmistress McGonagall stood up at the golden lectern and began to speak.
"I would like to say welcome to Hogwarts to our new first years and welcome back to our returning students." The old familiar intro got an appreciative chuckle from the older students who were more familiar with the traditional start to the welcoming speech, most of whom had wondered if the new head would change it.
"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! I am Headmistress McGonagall, and as I'm sure you know, this will be my first year heading this school. We will be learning this new chapter together, but for now, I see many tired and hungry faces waiting, so let the feast begin!" And after a short double clap of her hands, mountains of food sprang from the golden plates.
As Harry enjoyed his dinner with polite gusto, he took in the familiar sights and sounds. Pleasant conversations, laughter, Ron getting told off by Percy for trying to impersonate a vacuum. Harry wondered how Percy knew about vacuums, but then he remembered Muggle Studies was a class.
After the last dessert disappeared from the last platter, the new headmistress stood up.
"Now that we have all eaten and had our fill of food and conversation, I have a few start-of-term notices. Firstly, all students, including the older ones, especially the Weasley twins and Mr. Potter, should be aware that the Black Forest on the edge of the grounds is forbidden to all students not accompanied by Professor Sprout or Grounds Keeper Hagrid.
Secondly, our caretaker, Argus Filch, has asked me to reiterate that there is to be no magic in the corridors between lessons. This is to protect the priceless artifacts and artworks that are housed in this school.
Third, as you might assume, we have in fact had some staffing changes, as announced in the Daily Prophet. Gilderoy Lockhart has accepted the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
As well as Molly Weasley, who will be replacing me as Mistress of Transfiguration.
Most of you will have not heard, but upon my first day of accepting this position, I called an exorcism, and Professor Cuthbert Bins has been removed and blocked from this school. Replacing him will be Professor William Chambers, a graduate of Ilvermorny Academy of Magic in the United States. And finally, many Gryffindors will be very pleased to hear that Gamekeeper Hagrid is now a probationary professor. I have great care for magical creatures. Professor Kettleburn is retiring at the end of this year, and I know of no other person more knowledgeable about magical creatures than Rubeus Hagrid.
The fourth announcement is that, as we have so many first-time teachers this year, several auditors from the Ministry of Education Commission will be coming in from time to time and checking on these new professors when they are in the building. I expect an even higher level of behavior in this school.
And finally, unlike my predecessor, my office will have an open-door policy. You may simply come to the gargoyle guarding my office and request entry. Of course, during certain times, you will have to set an appointment with your Head of House. But in the main, you may simply come and air whatever may concern you as Headmistress. I am pleased to hear of any concerns you may have. Thank you all. Now, it is quite late enough. Classes have been postponed until Monday the fifth. First years, I suggest you learn the locations of your classes before they start so you don't get lost. Now, off to bed with the lot of you!
Hermione, Harry, and Ron stood up together to make their way up the long trip of far too many stairs and to Gryffindor Tower. There, after saying goodnight to Hermione and seeing her up the girls' stairs, Harry climbed into his four-poster and was asleep before he even realized it. He dreamt of a small family: a man with messy black hair, a woman with fiery red hair, and a small baby with a messy tuft of hair that sat upon the top of his otherwise bare head. The dad was skipping around the baby, playing a very energetic game of peekaboo which made the baby laugh the clearest and brightest laugh Harry had ever heard—a sweet and innocent belly laugh.
And the night wore on.