Chad Walsh and Mallory Hollister are made up. I didn't know who the Head Boy and Girl were, so I had to just wing it.

I also added a movie moment. See if you can spot it.

Chapter 165: The Journey Back

Harry spent a lot of the last week of the holidays pondering the meaning of Malfoy's behavior in Knockturn Alley. However, neither Hermione nor I really gave a fuck. And I for one had grown bored after a day of talking about it.

"Yes, I've already agreed it was fishy, Harry," said Hermione a little impatiently. She was sitting on the windowsill in Fred and George's room with her feet up on one of the cardboard boxes and had only grudgingly looked up from her new copy of Advanced Rune Translation. "But haven't we agreed there could be a lot of explanations?"

"Maybe he's broken his Hand of Glory," I said with a shrug, as I attempted to straighten my broomstick's bent tail twigs. "Remember that shriveled-up arm Malfoy had?"

"But what about when he said, 'Don't forget to keep that one safe'?" asked Harry for the umpteenth time. "That sounded to me like Borgin's got another one of the broken objects, and Malfoy wants both."

"You reckon?" I said, now trying to scrape some dirt off my broom handle.

"Yeah, I do," said Harry. "Malfoy's father's in Azkaban. Don't you think Malfoy'd like revenge?"

I looked up, blinking.

"Malfoy, revenge? What can he do about it?"

"That's my point, I don't know!" said Harry, frustrated. "But he's up to something and I think we should take it seriously. His father's a Death Eater and-"

Harry broke off, his eyes fixed on the window behind Hermione, his mouth open. He looked as if something big had dawned on him.

"Harry?" said Hermione in an anxious voice. "What's wrong?"

"Your scar's not hurting again, is it?" I asked.

"He's a Death Eater," said Harry slowly. "He's replaced his father as a Death Eater!"

There was a silence; then I erupted in laughter. "Malfoy? He's sixteen, Harry! You think You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join?"

"It seems very unlikely, Harry," said Hermione in a repressive sort of voice. "What makes you think-?"

"In Madam Malkin's. She didn't touch him, but he yelled and jerked his arm away from her when she went to roll up his sleeve. It was his left arm. He's been branded with the Dark Mark."

Hermione and I looked at each other.

"Well... I dunno..." I said, not even entertaining the thought of that cowardly prat being a Death Eater.

"I think he just wanted to get out of there, Harry," said Hermione.

"He showed Borgin something we couldn't see," Harry pressed on stubbornly. "Something that seriously scared Borgin. It was the Mark, I know it-he was showing Borgin who he was dealing with, you saw how seriously Borgin took him!"

"I'm not sure, Harry..."

"Yeah, I still don't reckon You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join..."

Annoyed, Harry snatched up a pile of filthy Quidditch robes and left the room.

Hermione and I gave each other sympathetic looks.

"He's obsessed."said Hermione.

"Come off it, Hermione."

"You know how Harry gets when he feels he is right about something." said Hermione. "He just doesn't let it go. He lets it consume him and cloud his better judgment and you know what happened last time right?"

I sighed and rubbed my arm. She was right, I couldn't even argue her on that.

"Yeah. You're right." I said. "I guess we should try to keep him preoccupied, yeah? Keep him from obsessing over it?"

Hermione nodded in agreement.

Then, a feeling of awkwardness came when we realized we were the only two in the room. It hadn't been like that since Harry arrived.

"Hermione, are you okay?" I asked as I leaned my broom on the wall.

"Want do you mean?" she asked. I could tell she knew exactly what I meant. She was just trying to avoid it. So, I decided to hold my question in and say something else.

"Are you still having nightmares?" I asked instead.

Hermione looked relieved that I had asked that and not about nights ago. "Sometimes. I asked your mum to put up a silencing charm around the bed I sleep on in Ginny's room so I don't disturb her anymore."

"Hermione you know you can talk about it if you want to. I'll listen. And you know about my barmy dreams I've been having."

"Are they getting worse?"

"More detailed I'll say. I remember the first night I had them. They were all over the place. Now, it seems like it's going slower, like the thoughts want me to see every single thing." I said with a shudder.

Hermione walked over and touched my arm. The scars didn't hurt as much as they used to anymore, but any form of physical contact would make them feel loads better. Especially her touch.

She ran her fingers gently down one of the bigger ones. I closed my eyes and let the comfort of her touch wash over me like a wave over sand.

"Does that feel okay?" she whispered. I nodded. I guess she had looked at my reaction. I couldn't tell because I seemed to not be able to open my eyes.

She ran her fingers down another one that was on my shoulder. She didn't go far because that particular one led under my shirt, where others were. I would have lost it if she would have touched my bare chest.

"Hermione!" came Ginny's muffled yell from below the room. Her room was under the twins. "Can you come real quick? I need you."

My eyes sprung open. The moment was over. Hermione gave me a small smile and left the room.

He was somewhere far far away from home near enemy ground. He had made a friend there, a muggle, who was a year younger than him and was just as scared to be there as he was.

They were supposed to be surveying that day. Nothing too difficult, just mapping out possible safe places to camp.

Suddenly, his friend, who was a few soldiers ahead of him stepped on something they called a hidden land mine. There was an explosion that had rendered him deaf for about thirty seconds. He looked around a frantically for his friend, but the only thing he found of his were his helmet with a singed and bloody picture of his fiance back home.

Our departure the following morning was smoother than usual. The Ministry cars glided up to the front of the Burrow to find us waiting, trunks packed; Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, safely enclosed in his traveling basket; and Hedwig, Pig, and Ginny's new purple Pygmy Puff, Arnold, in cages.

"Au revoir, 'Arry," said Fleur throatily, kissing him goodbye. I hurried forward like a fucking idiot, hoping she would bless my cheeks as well, but fucking Ginny stuck out her foot and I fell, sprawling in the dust at Fleur's feet. Furious, red-faced, and dirt-spattered, I hurried into the car without saying goodbye.

There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King's Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forward the moment the cars stopped and, flanking the party, marched them into the station without speaking.

"Quick, quick, through the barrier," said Mum, who seemed a little flustered. "Harry had better go first, with-"

She looked inquiringly at one of the Aurors, who nodded briefly, seized Harry's upper arm, and attempted to steer him toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"I can walk, thanks," said Harry irritably, jerking his arm out of the Auror's grip. He went through the barrier with the rest of us following closely behind. Once through, Harry motioned to Hermione and I to follow him up the platform, looking for an empty compartment.

"We can't, Harry," said Hermione, looking apologetic. "Ron and I've got to go to the prefects' carriage first and then patrol the corridors for a bit."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," said Harry.

"You'd better get straight on the train, all of you, you've only got a few minutes to go," said Mum, consulting her watch. "Well, have a lovely term, Ron."

I gave Mum a quick hug and boarded the train with Hermione. Ginny offered to take our stuff with her, so we went ahead to the Head's compartment.

The Head Boy and Girl this year was Chad Walsh and Mallory Hollister, two Hufflepuffs that were fairly nice. Hermione and I sat between Padma and Ernie, as there was no way we were going to sit anywhere near fucking Malfoy and Pansy's pug looking asses.

I halfway listened to the directions knowing that Hermione would more than likely remind me later. Besides, she was the one distracting me.

I had noticed that her hair smelled different. Usually it smelled like milk and honey. Today, it smelled like the same kind that Ginny used, which bothered me to no end, even though I knew it shouldn't have. It just didn't smell like my Hermione. Wow. My Hermione. The only other time I had thought of her in that was was fourth year at the Yule Ball when her hair was different.

After the meeting, we were handed our patrol schedules. We had first patrol, where we had seen Malfoy sitting with his friends when he was supposed to be getting ready to replace us. However, he didn't look as if he was going to do so anytime soon.

After we finished, we went to the compartment that Harry and the others were in.

"Wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving," I said longingly, slumping into the seat beside Harry and rubbing my stomach. "Hi, Neville. Hi, Luna. Guess what?" I added, turning to Harry. "Malfoy's not doing prefect duty. He's just sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we passed."

Harry sat up straight, interested. "What did he do when he saw you?"

"The usual," I said indifferently, flicking off no one in particular as I showed Harry what he did. "Not like him, though, is it? Well... that is, but why isn't he out there bullying first years?"

"Dunno," said Harry.

"Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," said Hermione. "Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that."

"I don't think so," said Harry. "I think he's-"

But before he could expound on his theory, the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom and Harry P-Potter," she faltered, as her eyes met Harry's and she turned scarlet. She was holding out two scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, Harry and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.

"What is it?" I asked, as Harry unrolled his.

"An invitation," said Harry.

Harry,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" asked Neville, looked perplexedly at his own invitation.

"New teacher," said Harry. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"

"But what does he want me for?" asked Neville nervously, as though he was expecting detention.

"No idea," said Harry, "Listen, let's go under the Invisibility Cloak, then we might get a good look at Malfoy on the way, see what he's up to."

The two of them disappeared under the cloak and left the compartment. I switched sides and laid down on the seat that Hermione was occupying, laying my head on her lap.

"I'm falling asleep. Wake me when we get there." I said, closing my eyes. I soon felt Hermione's fingers gently stroking my hair, the feeling lulling me to sleep.

The man came home with all types of medals of honor, though he didn't feel very honorable. Half his platoon had died. He had lost so many of his friends, as well as a commander he was rather fond of.

Still, he came back home. Home to his grandmother, despite him thinking she hated him for what he really was.

Instead, he was greeted by her extremely wrinkled, yet smiling face. Her shaky arms reached out to touch his scarred face. She spoken on how proud of him she was. How she felt terrible for how she treated him for being a wizard. How him not coming back home that one year in school broke her heart, almost killing her.

He melted into her embrace, where he felt the most at home.

A gentle tug of my hair awakened me. I looked up and seen Hermione's gorgeous brown eyes looking down at me.

"Time to change." she said. "We will be at school soon."

I sat up and seen that Neville and Luna were into their uniforms already. Hermione got her uniform out and headed to one of the bathrooms with Luna, while I stayed and finished changing with Neville.

"Where is Harry?" I asked him. Neville gave me a shrug as he smoothed out his robes.

By the time I was done, Hermione and Luna had returned, with Ginny in tow.

"Either of you see Harry out there?" I asked the girls.

All three of them shook their heads. "I haven't seen him since the meeting with Slughorn." said Ginny. " He didn't come back here?"

"Obviously not."

"Smartass."

The train slowed to stop at Hogsmeade Station with no sign of Harry.

"Ginny, can you get Hedwig and Pig and I'll get Harry's trunk?" I said, pulling our trunks out of the cubby holes.

We walked out onto the platform and looked around. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

"Where could he be?" said Hermione, looking up and down the platform.

"Bet you a chocolate frog he's went fucking around with Malfoy." I sighed.

Hermione groaned. "Well, we can't wait around. We have to help Hagrid get the first years to the boats."

I handed my stuff and Harry's over to Neville, Ginny, and Luna, who said they would make sure it got to school while Hermione and I went with the other prefects to do our job.

After we helped Hagrid and gotten to the school, we walked in with the other students. Ginny, Hermione, and I kept our eyes peeled for Harry, but we still did not see him.

"Do you think he make it off the train?" asked Ginny. "Did he and Malfoy have a go?"

"There's Malfoy there." said Hermione, pointing towards the Slytherin table where sure enough, Malfoy, Pansy. And Zabini were sitting down, looking smug about something.

"Nothing we can do but sit and wait." I said as the doors closed.

A few minutes later, McGonagall lead the new firsties in to be sorted. The hat spoke once again about unity and keeping safe in these troubled times, sorted the lot, Dumbledore said a few words, and the feast began.

I was horribly hungry, so when the food appeared, I dug right in, grabbing up chicken and mashed potatoes, carrots, chips, and macaroni.

As I sat there, delightfully filling up my stomach, I felt eyes on my shoulder. I looked over to the left of me and seen Hermione's brown eyes burning a hole into my face.

"What?" I said, muffled by the chicken in my mouth.

"Will you stop eating?!" said Hermione, as she hit my arm with her book. "Your best friend is missing!"

"Oi!" I said, suddenly seeing Harry out the corner of my eye. "Look there, you lunatic!"

Harry was coming up on us fast. We could see what looked like blood on his shirt.

"Is that blood?" whispered Ginny. "Why is he always covered in blood?"

Harry forced his way in between Hermione and I in a huff. We could now see where the blood was coming from.

"Where've you-blimey, what've you done to your face?" I said.

"Why, what's wrong with it?" said Harry, grabbing a spoon and squinting at his distorted reflection.

"You're covered in blood!" said Hermione. "Come here -"

She raised her wand, said "Tergeo!" and siphoned off the dried blood.

"Thanks," said Harry, feeling his now clean face. "How's my nose looking?"

"Normal," said Hermione anxiously. "Why shouldn't it? Harry, what happened? We've been terrified!"

"I'll tell you later," said Harry curtly as he looked over at Ginny and Neville.

"But -" said Hermione.

"Not now, Hermione," said Harry, in a darkly significant voice. He reached across me for a couple of chicken legs and a handful of chips, but before he could take them they vanished, to be replaced with puddings.

"You missed the Sorting, anyway," said Hermione, as I dived for a large chocolate gateau.

"Hat say anything interesting?" asked Harry, taking a piece of treacle tart.

"More of the same, really... advising us all to unite in the face enemies, you know."

"Dumbledore mentioned Voldemort at all?"

"Not yet, but he always saves his proper speech for after the the feast doesn't he? It can't be long now."

"Snape said Hagrid was late for the feast -"

"You've seen Snape? How come?" I asked between stuffing my face with gateau.

"Bumped into him," said Harry evasively.

"Hagrid was only a few minutes late," said Hermione. "Look, he's waving at you, Harry."

Harry looked up at the staff table and grinned at Hagrid, who was indeed waving at him.

"So what did Professor Slughorn want?" Hermione asked.

"To know what really happened at the Ministry." said Harry.

"Him and everyone else here," sniffed Hermione. "People were interrogating us about it on the train, weren't they, Ron?"

"Yeah," I said, wiping my mouth. "All wanting to know if you really are 'the Chosen One' -"

"There has been much talk on that very subject even amongst the ghosts," interrupted Nearly Headless Nick, who had floated over and sat on the other side of Hermione. "I am considered something of a Potter authority; it is widely known that we are friendly. I have assured the spirit community that I will not pester you for information, however. 'Harry Potter knows that he can confide in me with complete confidence,' I told them. 'I would rather die than betray his trust.'"

"That's not saying much, seeing as you're already dead," I observed.

"Once again, you show all the sensitivity of a blunt axe," said Nearly Headless Nick in affronted tones, and he rose into the air and glided back toward the far end of the Gryffindor table just as Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table. The talk and laughter echoing around the Hall died away almost instantly.

"The very best of evenings to you!" he said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room.

"What happened to his hand?" gasped Hermione.

I looked and seen that Dumbledore's right hand was blackened and dead-looking, as if it was going to rot right off his body. Whispers swept the room as others began to notice; Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly, merely smiled and shook his purple-and-gold sleeve over his injury.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now ... to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you... "

"His hand was like that when I saw him over the summer," I overhead Harry whisper to Hermione. "I thought he'd have cured it by now, though ... or Madam Pomfrey would've done."

"It looks as if it's died," said Hermione, looking like she was going to be sick. "But there are some injuries you can't cure... old curses... and there are poisons without antidotes..."

"... and Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn." Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table into shadow, "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions?"

"Potions?"

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

"Potions?" said Hermione and I together, turning to stare Harry. "But you said -"

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" said Harry, so loudly that many heads turned in his direction. My jaw dropped so far it could have touched the table. How could Snape be given the Defense Against the Dark Arts job after all this time? Why the bloody fuck would he still want to do it? I was pissed. I was looking forward to a Snapeless year, as I wasn't taking Potions. There was no avoiding that greasy haired bastard

"But Harry, you said that Slughorn was going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts!" said Hermione.

"I thought he was!" said Harry, looking thoroughly confused.

Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up his mention of his name; he merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment of the applause from the Slytherin table. He had a sort of subtle triumphant grin on his face.

"Well, there's one good thing," Harry said savagely. "Snape'll be gone by the end of the year."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"That job's jinxed. No ones lasted more than a year... Quirrell actually died doing it... Personally, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for another death. "

"Harry!" said Hermione, shocked.

"He might just go back to teaching Potions at the end of the year," I said with a shrug. "That Slughorn bloke might not want to stay long-term. Moody didn't."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. The three of us were not the only ones who had been talking; the whole Hall had erupted in a buzz of conversation at the news that Snape had finally achieved his heart's desire. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Dumbledore said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing.

"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

The silence seemed to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke. "I cannot emphasize 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 bed 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's blue eyes swept over us students 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!"

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward our dormitories. Hermione had darted ahead to fulfill her prefect's duty of shepherding the first years, but I remained with Harry.

"What really happened to your nose?" I asked, once we were at the very back of the crowd and out of earshot of anyone else.

Harry told me what happened on the train. How he had snuck to the Slytherin car and overhead Malfoy, Pansy, and Zabini's strange conversation, and how Malfoy had discovered him and kicked his nose broke, and how Tonks had found him and fixed it.

"I saw Malfoy miming something to do with a nose," I said darkly, remembering when he had sat down with his friends. Pale faced prick.

"Yeah, well, never mind that," said Harry bitterly. "Listen to what he was saying before he found out I was there... "

As I listened to Harry go on and on about the conversation in more detail, I couldn't help but feel bored by it.

"Come on, Harry, he was just showing off for Parkinson. What kind of mission would You-Know-Who have given him?"

"How d'you know Voldemort doesn't need someone at Hogwarts? It wouldn't be the first -"

"I wish yeh'd stop sayin' tha name, Harry," said a reproachful voice behind us. Hagrid had appeared, shaking his head.

"Dumbledore uses that name," said Harry stubbornly.

"Yeah, well, tha's Dumbledore, innit?" said Hagrid mysteriously. "So how come yeh were late, Harry? I was worried."

"Got held up on the train," said Harry. "Why were you late?"

"I was with Grawp," said Hagrid happily. "Los' track o' the time. He's got a new home up in the mountains now, Dumbledore fixed it-nice big cave. He's much happier than he was in the forest. We were havin' a good chat."

"Really?" said Harry.

"Oh yeah, he's really come on," said Hagrid proudly. "Yeh'll be amazed. I'm thinkin' o' trainin' him up as me assistant."

I snorted loudly, but managed to pass it off as a violent sneeze. We were now standing beside the oak front doors.

"Anyway, I'll see yeh tomorrow, firs' lesson's straight after lunch. Come early an' yeh can say hello ter Buck - I mean, Witherwings!"

Raising an arm in cheery farewell, he headed out of the doors into the darkness.

Harry and I looked at each other. I could tell that Harry was experiencing the same sinking feeling I was.

"You're not taking Care of Magical Creatures, are you?"

I shook my head. "And you're not either, are you?"

Harry shook his head too.

"And Hermione, she's not, is she?"

Harry shook his head again and both of us winced. I didn't want to think about what Hagrid would say when he realized his three favorite students had given up his subject.