HARRY

As he lay on the compartment floor like an absurd turtle turned on its shell, blood from his nose dripping onto his face profusely, Harry had never hated Malfoy more.

He lay there beneath his cloak, listening helplessly to the sound of the fading footsteps and voices in the corridor. His first thought was that surely someone would come and check the compartments; then Harry realised they would have to step fully into the compartment in order to find him. His best hope was that someone would come in and trip over him.

But surely Ron and Hermione would know he was missing. As soon as the thought entered his head, he dismissed it. They would think that he had only left without them and would meet them in the Great Hall.

Harry attempted to make a noise, a grunt, but it was impossible. Then he remembered that the most advanced wizards could perform nonverbal spells, and tried to summon his wand by thinking accio wand as hard as he could.

There was a jolt, and Harry felt the train begin to move with a creak and a groan. He began to panic, thinking of the castle disappearing into the distance before anyone realised he was gone, Malfoy gleefully recounting the incident to a thestral-pulled carriage of Slytherins roaring with laughter…

Then the cloak was pulled off his paralysed body with a swish, and a voice above him cursed quietly: "Oh, Hades."

The boy standing above him looked to be around his age, but Harry couldn't tell much else from the dim train lights. "Reparifors," he said with an exaggerated movement of his wand, and looked rather pleased with himself when Harry got up, groaning.

"Thanks," he said thickly, trying to wipe the blood from his face. "Who—"

"We gotta get off this train," said the boy, cutting him off. "It's leaving. C'mon, we'll jump."

They hurried into the corridor. The boy shoved open the train door and leapt with no hesitation; meanwhile Harry stumbled off and left the door flapping open as the train picked up speed.

He got up, dusting himself off and casting a quick episkey on his bloody nose. "Thanks," he said again, turning towards his savior. "You —" Then he got a closer look at the boy's face and startled. "You're the transfer."

"Yup, that's me," said the student — Percy, Harry thought. The name reminded him instantly of Ron's older brother, the Ministry worker. His mouth twisted into a grimace. Thankfully, Percy didn't seem to notice.

"We should — er, go back to the castle," said Harry, and they began walking up the path.

The evening air was cool and quiet, the first of thousands of stars beginning to show up as slim silver needle-tops upon a black velvet pincushion. The last twilight was disappearing quickly behind Hogwarts, which was silhouetted very clearly against the violet sky. Harry thought he saw a flash of silver white in the corner and snapped his head in that direction, but the lane was deserted. The situation was rather awkward, and he stuffed his hands inside his pockets. He was struck suddenly by the realisation that he had been supposed to change; it was too late for that now.

"How'd you find me?" he asked Percy curiously, trying to change the atmosphere a bit. "I mean — why were you in the compartment where I was?"

Percy held up a muggle watch that flashed dull bronze in the moonlight. "I lost this, but I found it in that compartment. I thought I'd look since I went in that compartment at the beginning of the train ride when I was looking for a seat."

"Oh," said Harry. A thought struck him. "You went for a seat in Malfoy's compartment?" He spat out the name without thinking.

The transfer student looked at him. "Was that his name?" He seemed indifferent. "He didn't tell me. But I'll say, he was pretty nasty." He paused. "Malfoy — wasn't that the guy Ron was complaining about?"

"Oh," said Harry again. They had been rather reckless talking about things around Percy. "Yeah, it was."

He shoved his hands deeper in his pocket, and although he felt Percy's inquiring gaze directed at him, offered no more information on the topic.

It was a source of great relief when they arrived at the gates, flanked by two pillars topped with winged boars. But when Harry put out his hands to push them open, he found them locked with chains.

"Alohomora," he said confidently, pointing his wand, but nothing happened. He groaned. "There must be some sort of enchantment…" he craned his neck upwards. "I suppose I could climb them."

"There's someone coming," Percy pointed out, and indeed, a figure in a black cloak carrying a lantern was moving towards them from the other side of the gates.

With a sigh of relief, Harry stuffed his Invisibility cloak inside his bag and prepared to enter. He was so grateful to finally be out of the situation that he was ready even to deal with Filch's complaints and scoldings about being late, or McGonagall's strict lecture on tardiness… it was only when the figure was about ten feet away and could be properly seen that Harry's stomach dropped.

With the warm yellow glow from the lantern highlighting a hooked nose and perpetual scowl framed by long, greasy black hair, there stood Severus Snape.

"Well, well well," the professor sneered triumphantly, "look who decided to turn up at last. The great Harry Potter. And apparently he has not deigned to even change into school robes. Well, Potter, did you think the attire would detract from your appearance?"

All thoughts of despising Malfoy were long gone as Harry glared heatedly into Snape's face. "I couldn't change, I didn't have my —"

"And who's this?" Snape cut him off, swinging the lantern to Percy as he tapped the padlock on the gates.

Harry expected the transfer student to quail under Snape's gaze like all the other students upon first meeting him, but he looked unfazed.

"Hi. You look like my bio teacher." He fiddled with the buttons on his wristwatch distractedly, only half-paying attention to what was going on.

Snape's lip curled in disgust, and Harry felt a sudden rush of goodwill towards Percy. "Perseus Jackson."

At this, Percy looked up. "You know my name already? Why?" Had the lantern light not been unreliable, Harry would have thought his expression was slightly panicked.

"The transfer student, of course. The whole staff knows about you." Snape frowned. "Potter, find your way to the Great Hall. Mr. Jackson, come with me."

Percy began to follow him in, but suddenly Snape turned around again, cloak billowing. The lantern lit up his leering face in yellow shadows. Harry felt very suddenly a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach.

"And fifty points from Gryffindor, I think, for tardiness," he said, and Harry's anger flared into a hot flame. He opened his mouth to protest, but Snape didn't allow him. "That must be a record," he continued nastily, "Entering your house in the negatives before pudding." With that, he swept away, leaving Harry standing there in humiliation.

Percy cast a sympathetic glance behind him before following Snape to a side entrance. "Sorry, Harry. I really can't afford to get expelled this time —I'll see you at the feast, I guess!"

Harry stalked toward the great oaken front doors, pulling the cloak over him again in hopes that he would be able to sneak into the Great Hall while attracting as little attention as possible. The floating candles cast a glittering light upon the four long tables as usual, the staff table sitting proudly at the head of the room, but the red tingeing the edge of Harry's vision blocked the decorations out effectively. He was still fuming when he slipped in between Ron and Hermione and took off his cloak, who turned to him, puzzled.

"Harry, where were you?" Hermione hissed frantically. "You missed the sorting, and — oh, Harry, what've you done to your face?"

"What about it?" Harry asked through clenched teeth.

"Blimey, it's covered in blood. What'd you do, murder someone?" Ron said with wide eyes.

Hermione raised her wand briskly. "Tergeo." The blood disappeared from his face. "Really, though, Harry, what happened?"

"I'll tell you later," Harry said, casting a dark glance at the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was recounting some tale animatedly to his fellow housemates. He didn't have to be a genius to figure out what it was.

Just then, Snape swept into the room and bent down to whisper something to Dumbledore, who nodded and stood. Almost instantly, the room quieted. Most were expecting him to give his usual beginning-of-year speech and announcements, but he did not.

"Students," he said airily, "This year there has been an unexpected event."

Murmurs burst out among the students. "What do you think it is?" Hermione whispered anxiously. "Surely they haven't thought up another Triwizard Tournament…"

"No, I think it's just the transfer student, remember," Harry told her in a low voice. "He's probably got to get Sorted."

She nodded, relieved. "That must be it."

Sure enough, Dumbledore's announcement was only introducing Percy Jackson (who walked in to be Sorted after). He sat down on the stool, some of the Great Hall craning to watch and others ignoring the happenings.

The Sorting Hat seemed to straighten up a little as it was placed on Percy's head, muttering thoughtfully; Harry saw Percy frown slightly, and soon after the hat bellowed: "GRYFFINDOR!"

The table burst into applause as he made his way towards it. Spotting Harry, Ron, and Hermione, he sat down on the bench opposite them. "Hey," he greeted them.

"Hi," said Harry. "Congratulations — welcome to Gryffindor. You don't want to go around consorting with Slytherins, and people like Malfoy." He threw a dirty glance at the back of Malfoy's slicked white-blond head, still furious over what had happened.

"Yeah, welcome," added Ron.

Percy grinned. "So I was wondering — what's your thing against this Malfoy character? — I mean, he was a jerk, sure, but you seem to really hate him."

Harry scowled. "He was the one who…" his throat worked. "Y'know."

He got a confused glance from Percy and his two friends. Face reddening, Harry told Ron and Hermione what had happened on the train, hoping that his voice was low enough so the other Gryffindors would not overhear. Although he was sure Malfoy would spread the news as far as he possibly could, it might not reach the ears of some Gryffindors. As for those Gryffindors — and Harry despised himself for thinking this — he would much prefer them to think the blood had been from some heroic endeavour involving death eaters and dementors.

When he was finished, the two were staring at him in horror. Harry silently thanked the mark of their friendship that they did not laugh. He couldn't read Percy's expression, although it seemed vaguely angry at Malfoy's cruelty.

"That ferret," Ron said darkly, clenching and unclenching his fists, "Why, I ought to -"

"Oh, sit down, Ron," said Hermione anxiously, for he had half risen from his seat, but she too looked ready to murder Malfoy. "We mustn't get in trouble for attacking a student — all the same, though, he attacked you. Harry, you need to —"

"Tell Dumbledore, I know," he said. "But listen, I did hear him saying some stuff before to Pansy and their lot, I'll tell you later where there aren't so many people around." Harry looked around at the people around them who were probably curiously listening in, wondering what sort of top-secret information the Chosen One might be sharing about Voldemort to his friends.

"Look, I think —" Percy began.

Having finished his glass, Dumbledore tapped it with his spoon, and the ting sound it made resonated all throughout the Great Hall. He smiled and stood once more at the immediate silence that followed. "The very best of evenings to you all. Welcome to yet another year at Hogwarts, to both the new students and the old. Awaiting you is a year full of magic and education, and it is my hope that you enjoy it and learn to the best of your ability. However, there are a few announcements that must be made.

"First, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to announce a blanket ban on any products from the shop Weasley's Wizard Wheezes…"

Ron snorted into his treacle tart. "Like that's going to happen," he said gleefully. "Look, Harry, they're famous now."

Harry was not listening. He was busy looking carefully at Dumbledore's sleeve, which had been tugged down to cover his hands. Still, the very tips of his right fingers peeked out, and they were just as blackened and withered as Harry had seen over the summer. He elbowed Hermione.

"Hermione, look at his right hand," he whispered.

She squinted, then gasped. "Harry! It looks… dead," she said with a nauseated expression.

"Yeah. I'd have thought it would have healed by now."

"There are some curses and potions that can't be healed," Hermione pointed out. "I wonder what happened…"

"I dunno," Harry said darkly.

"What're you all talking about?" Ron said.

"Tell you later."

"...This year, we have a new addition to our staff. Please welcome Professor Horace Slughorn, your new Potions professor!"

There was a scattered burst of applause through the Great Hall. Ron nudged Harry.

"I thought you said he was going to be Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"I thought that was what Dumbledore told me," said Harry, a sick feeling filling his stomach quickly. Now that he racked his brain, he could not remember being told what position Slughorn was taking. He must have assumed.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "But then… that means…"

The sick feeling made Harry's mouth go dry. "Oh, no."

"Taking over the Defence Against the Dark Arts position will be Professor Snape," Dumbledore announced, and Harry's heart sank.

Snape stood to acknowledge the loud applause coming mostly from the Slytherin, a triumphant smirk adorning his face. Harry could have sworn he looked him directly in the eye ominously before sitting back down.

Ron and Hermione were staring with a mixture of horror and shock at Dumbledore. "At least one good thing might come out of this," Harry pointed out, and they both turned their expressions to him.

"What good thing could possibly come from the old snake teaching the position he's wanted for so long?" Ron said incredulously.

"The position's cursed. With any luck, Snape'll be gone before the school year ends," replied Harry darkly.

"Harry!" Hermione scolded at the same time Percy interjected, "What do you mean, the position's cursed?"

Ron lowered his voice as if spilling a secret. "Ever since Harry came to school, not one Defence Against the Dark Arts professor has lasted more than a year."

Harry flushed slightly. " 'S not my fault Quirrell was evil."

Percy was grinning a little. "Seems like an interesting curse."

"It's not," Hermione said, still slightly reproachful at Harry. "Quirrell actually died on the job."

"He was evil. In my opinion, Snape's just as much so. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed for another death…"

"Harry!"

"He might go back to teaching Potions after this year," pointed out Ron. "The Slughorn bloke might not stay long term."

"I hope so." Harry turned to Percy. "Do you —"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. The Great Hall had, once more, broken out into hushed conversation at the latest announcement, but he seemed unfazed. "Now. As many of you know already, Lord Voldemort is now at large and gaining in strength and followers."

The silence seemed to thicken, people just barely holding themselves back from turning to their friends at his words. Harry glanced at Malfoy; he was levitating his fork with his wand, the announcement seeming to have bored him. He narrowed his eyes. Surely only someone working with Voldemort would not be affected by the claim that he was rising again. Harry made a note to talk about it to Ron and Hermione afterwards.

"I cannot emphasise strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that you teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Dumbledore observed all the students in the hall before he smiled once more. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

The benches were scraped back with the usual thundering noise, and Hermione and Ron went to lead the first years to the common room. "See you," Harry told them, and they said the same back.

"The Gryffindor common room's just this way," Harry said to Percy as they followed the stream of Gryffindor students.

"A painting of a fat lady?" Percy said when they reached the portrait.

"The painting of the Fat Lady," the portrait sniffed, affronted, and he yelped. "Password?"

Percy gaped. "Your paintings talk?"

"Do they not have that in America?" Harry frowned. "That's strange. All our pictures and such move here."

"Er — no, I guess not," said Percy. "We do have a talking stuffed leopard head though. Named Seymour."

Harry blinked. Americans had strange magic.

"He also really likes sausages," Percy added, and the portrait door swung open.