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⚡︎
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟖
ˢᵉᵃᵐᵘˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃʳʳʸ'ˢ ⁽ⁿᵒᵗ⁾ ˢᵒ
ᵖᵒˡⁱᵗᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ

"ᴇʀᴍ ʏᴇs . . . ʜᴇ's
ᴠᴇʀʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ"

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐃 not want to tell the others that he and Luna were having the same hallucination, if that was what it was, so he said nothing about the horses as he sat down inside the carriage and slammed the door behind him. Nevertheless, he could not help watching the silhouettes of the horses moving beyond the window.

"Did everyone see that Grubbly - Plank woman?" asked Ginny. "What's she doing back here? Hagrid can't have left, can he?"

"I'll be quite glad if he has," said Luna. "He isn't a very good teacher, is he?"

"Yes, he is!" said Harry, Ron, and Ginny angrily. Tasmin nodding agreement rather hesitantly.

Tasmin nudged the girls shoulder in order to get her attention, she nodded to Harry who was currently giving his friend a death glare. If looks could kill, Hermione Granger would be six feet under.

She cleared her throat and quickly said, "Erm . . . yes . . . he's very good.

"Best we've ever seen!" Tasmin agreed hurriedly.

"We Ravenclaws think he's a bit of a joke." Luna said without a care in the world.

"You've got a rubbish sense of humour then." Ron grumbled with a hint of distaste clear in his tone while the wheels below them creaked slowly in motion.

Luna did not seem perturbed by Ron's rudeness; on the contrary, she simply watched him for a while as though he were a mildly interesting television program.

Rattling and swaying, the carriages moved in convoy up the road. When they passed between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars on either side of the gates to the school grounds, Harry leaned forward to try and see whether there were any lights on in Hagrid's cabin by the Forbidden Forest, but the grounds were in complete darkness. Hogwarts Castle, however, loomed ever closer: a towering mass of turrets, jet - black against the dark sky, here and there a window blazing fiery bright above them.

The carriages jingled to a halt near the stone steps leading up to the oak front doors and Harry got out of the carriage first. He turned again to look for lit windows down by the forest, but there was definitely no sign of life within Hagrid's cabin. Unwillingly, because he had half hoped they would have vanished, he turned his eyes instead upon the strange, skeletal creatures standing quietly in the chill night air, their blank white eyes gleaming.

Harry had once before had the experience of seeing something that Ron could not, but that had been a reflection in a mirror, something much more insubstantial than a hundred very solid-looking beasts strong enough to pull a fleet of carriages. If Luna was to be believed, the beasts had always been there but invisible; why, then, could Harry suddenly see them, and why could Tasmin and Ron not? What had changed over the summer that had allowed him to finally see the mythical beasts. What did Harry have in common with Luna that allowed them to see them?

"Are you coming or what?" said Ron beside him.   

"Oh . . . yeah," said Harry quickly, and they joined the crowd hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.     

The entrance hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start - of - term feast. The four long House tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly to one another, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other Houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes. Again, Harry noticed people putting their heads together to whisper as he passed; he gritted his teeth and tried to act as though he neither noticed nor cared.

Luna drifted away from them at the Ravenclaw table. The moment they reached Gryffindor's, Ginny was hailed by some fellow fourth years and left to sit with them; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville found seats together about halfway down the table between Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor House ghost, and Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, the last two of whom gave Harry airy, overly friendly greetings that made him quite sure they had stopped talking about him a split second before. He had more important things to worry about, however: He was looking over the students' heads to the staff table that ran along the top wall of the Hall.

"He's not there." Tasmin said worriedly. He was just with him and now he wasn't. Did this happen often? Is that why Hermione and Ron weren't too fazed at their best friends random and rather sudden disappearance?

Tasmin, Ron and Hermione scanned the staff table too, though there was no real need; Hagrid's size made him instantly obvious in any lineup.

"He can't have left." said Ron, now sounding slightly anxious about his missing best friend.

"Of course he hasn't," said Harry firmly.

The trio all wheeled around at once at the sound of his voice.

"Where have you been?" Tasmin asked the boy quietly.

"Nowhere." Harry dismissed rather quickly.

"You don't think he's . . . hurt, or anything, do you?" said Hermione uneasily. Ignoring the fact that Harry had just turned out of nowhere and instead focused back on Hagrid's absence at the dinner table.

"No," said Harry at once.

"But where is he, then?"

There was a pause, then Harry said very quietly, so that Neville, Parvati, and Lavender could not hear, "Maybe he's not back yet. You know — from his mission — the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore."

"Yeah . . . yeah, that'll be it," said Ron, sounding reassured, but Hermione bit her lip, looking up and down the staff table as though hoping for some conclusive explanation of Hagrid's absence.

"Who's that?" she said sharply, pointing toward the middle of the staff table.

Harry's eyes followed hers. They lit first upon Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his high - backed golden chair at the center of the long staff table, wearing deep - purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. Dumbledore's head was inclined toward the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear. She looked, Harry thought, like somebody's maiden aunt: squat, with short, curly, mouse - brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turned her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet and he saw, with a shock of recognition, a pallid, toadlike face and a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes.

"It's that Umbridge woman!" Harry seethed.

"Who?" said Hermione.

"She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!"

"Nice cardigan," said Ron, smirking.

"She works for Fudge?" Hermione repeated, frowning.

"What on earth's she doing here, then?"

"Dunno . . ." Hermione scanned the staff table, her eyes narrowed.

"She must be the new dark arts professor." Tasmin spoke. All friends turned to the girl with a look of disbelief in their eyes.

"No," Hermione muttered, "no, surely not . . ."

Harry's attention had just been caught by Professor Grubbly - Plank who had just appeared behind the staff table; she worked her way along to the very end and took the seat that ought to have been Hagrid's. That meant that the first years must have crossed the lake and reached the castle, and sure enough, a few seconds later, the doors from the entrance hall opened. A long line of scared - looking first years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizard's hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim.

The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back.

The first years' faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. Harry recalled, fleetingly, how terrified he had felt when he had stood there, waiting for the unknown test that would determine to which House he belonged.

In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
"Together we will build and teach!"
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest."
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest."
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name."
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same."
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A House in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure - blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the Houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether Sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within.
I have told you, I have warned you . . .
Let the Sorting now begin.

The hat became motionless once more; applause broke out, though it was punctured, for the first time in Harry's memory, with muttering and whispers. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors and Harry, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about.

"Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?" said Ron, his eyebrows raised.

"Too right it has." Said Harry.

The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts Houses and its own role in sorting them; Harry could not remember it ever trying to give the school advice before.

"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" said Hermione, sounding slightly anxious.

"Yes, indeed," said Nearly Headless Nick knowledgeably, leaning across Neville toward her (Neville winced, it was very uncomfortable to have a ghost lean through you). "The hat feels itself honor-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels —"

But Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first years' names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. Nearly Headless Nick placed a see - through finger to his lips and sat primly upright again as the muttering came to an abrupt end. With a last frowning look that swept the four House tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out,

"Abercrombie, Euan."

The terrified - looking boy Harry had noticed earlier stumbled forward on the floor but quickly got up and put the hat on his head; it was only prevented from falling right down to his shoulders by his very prominent ears. The hat considered for a moment, then the rip near the brim opened again and shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest of Gryffindor House as Euan Abercrombie staggered to their table and sat down, looking as though he would like very much to sink through the floor and never be looked at again.

Slowly the long line of first years thinned; in the pauses between the names and the Sorting Hat's decisions, Harry could hear Ron's stomach rumbling loudly. Finally, "Zeller, Rose" was sorted into Hufflepuff, and Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands — welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate — for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread, sauces, and flagons of pumpkin juice.

"Excellent," said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them onto his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick.

"What were you saying before the Sorting?" Hermione asked the ghost, ignoring Ron's actions. "About the hat giving warnings?"

"Oh yes," said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. "Yes, I have heard the hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: Stand together, be strong from within."

"Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?" said Ron.

Harry looked to Ron and was surprised that he could even speak at all with the amount of food in his mouth. Tasmin, trying to keep in her laugh, spoke up, "Uhm, I think what Ron was trying to say was that how can it detect the schools in danger if it's a hat?"

"Oh." Nick replied with a look of dawning realisation on his face. "I have no idea," said Nearly Headless Nick. "Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there."

"And it wants all the Houses to be friends?" said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court with none other than Tasmin's brother Christopher. They seemed to Harry, to be mocking the first year from earlier falling on his face. "Fat chance." Tasmin noticed where the boy was looking and sighed slightly, her receiving a small reassuring smile from Harry, said boy gaining one in response.

"Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude," said Nick reprovingly. "Peaceful cooperation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate Houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I wound never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron."

"Only because you're terrified of him." Ron said while looking at ghost confusedly.

Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted and aghast.

"Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins —"

"What blood?" Asked Ron. "Surely you still haven't got blood —?"

"— It's a figure of speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck (Harry was quite glad at that moment that Nick was in fact a ghost, as he didn't want a severed head in his food). "I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!"

"Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!" said Hermione, throwing a furious look at Ron. "He was just —"

Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point again and all he could manage was "— node iddum eentup sechew," which Nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air, he straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.

"Well done Ronald!" Hermione snapped impatiently, tired of Ron's big mouth opening at rather unfortunate times. Tasmin assumed this was a rather common occasion at the look on Hermione's face and the use of Ron's full name. She thought Hermione looked rather much like Mrs. Weasley by the way she was scolding the red - headed boy.

"What?" said Ron indignantly, clearly not having understood what he did wrong and finally having managed to swallow his food. "I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?"

"Not if it's offensive. You shouldn't be treating Nick any different because he's a ghost. How would you like it if I asked you questions like that if you were a ghost?"

"Well luckily for me I'm not. And they weren't offensive." Ron denied sharply.

"That's not the point! Besides maybe, if you started listening to S.P.E.W and helped me with my ideas of badges then —"

"— Not again with bloody S.P.E.W Hermione. I'm not wearing a badge with a house elves face on it. Especially if it's Kreacher."

"The lives and treatment of house elves matter! That's why I started the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare in the first place."

Tasmin tuned out the rest of their argument. She turned to look at Harry who was sitting beside her. "Does this happen often?" She asked.

"Oh this happens every day. I'm thinking of just ditching them and finding new friends to be honest." Harry joked. Of course he wasn't being serious, Ron and Hermione had been through everything with him. They were his best friends. Tasmin chuckled slightly at this. "Well, if you do I'd be happy to sign up for the new best friend position. I'm sure many people would fight to the ends of the earth to be your friend."

Harry scoffed bitterly at this. How could she think anyone would want to be his friend. Everyone thought him to be mad (again). Last year, everyone had thought that he had entered the Triwizard Tournament when he hadn't. Now, this year everyone thought that he hadn't duelled Voldemort when he had. It was rather frustrating to him. Although Harry appreciated the girl's kindness.

"Yeah right. Everyone thinks I'm lying about Voldemort's —" He stopped at the girls wince of the name. " — sorry." He apologised. "You - Know - Who's return."

"Hey, not everyone thinks that." She reassured while putting a comforting hand on his hand. Harry felt his face heat up ever so slightly at the gesture but it seemed that she didn't notice. "The Order believe you —"

" —That's because they have to —" Harry interrupted.

" — Ron and Hermione believe you —"

" — Because they're my friends —"

" — I believe you." She interrupted once more. "And I always will, through everything."

"Why?" The boy asked. He hadn't had anyone care for him as much as Tasmin had (except for perhaps Sirius or Mrs. Weasley but that was a given). He hadn't had a friend care about him and believe him so quickly through everything as much as Tasmin had. Harry also didn't know why her validation of belief meant the most him but it did, more so than The Order or Dumbledore.

"Why?" She asked with a grin on her face. As though the mere fact that he even asked that was amusing to her (which it was). "Because you Harry James Potter, are officially certified as my best friend, well one of them."

"I would of thought I was already one of your friends Tasmin." The boy replied rather cockily. Which was very different from his usual behaviour.

The two conversed for a bit longer until the booming voice of Dumbledore echoed throughout the Great Hall.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start - of - term notices," said Dumbledore. "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students — and a few of our older students ought to know by now too." (Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged knowing smirks).

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty - second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door."

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly - Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause during which Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged slightly panicked looks; Dumbledore had not said for how long Grubbly - Plank would be teaching.

Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the —" He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, "— Hem, hem," and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high - pitched, breathy, and little - girlish and again, Harry felt a powerful rush of dislike that he could not explain to himself; all he knew was that he loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat - clearing cough ("Hem, hem") and continued: "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing her pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Both Harry and Tasmin glanced around the room, nobody was smiling.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

"That's likely." Fred and George said in unison with matching smirks on their faces.

Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.

"I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan," Parvati whispered to Lavender, and both of them lapsed into silent giggles.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ("Hem, hem"), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned - by - heart sound to them.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Harry distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little "Hem, hem" and went on with her speech.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation . . ."

Harry found his attentiveness ebbing, as though his brain was slipping in and out of tune. The quiet that always filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking was break breaking up as students put their heads together. At the Hufflepuff table, Ernie Macmillan was one of the few still staring at Professor Umbridge, but he was glassy - eyed and Harry was sure he was only pretending to listen in an attempt to live up to the new prefect's badge gleaming on his chest.

Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. Harry had the impression that a full- scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech. The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively, and Hermione seemed to be drinking in every word Umbridge spoke, though judging by her expression, they were not at all to her taste.

". . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Harry noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now — as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held . . ."

"Yes, it certainly was illuminating," said Hermione in a low voice.

"You're not telling me you enjoyed it?" Ron said quietly, turning a glazed face upon Hermione. "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy."

"I said illuminating, not enjoyable," said Hermione. "It explained a lot."

"Did it?" Harry asked in surprise. "Sounded like a load of waffle to me."

"There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle," Hermione countered grimly.

"Was there?" asked Ron blankly.

"How about 'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? How about 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'?"

"Well, what does that mean?" Ron questioned impatiently.

"I'll tell you what it means," Hermione answered ominously. "It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."

There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Hermione jumped up, looking flustered.

"Ron, we're supposed to show the first years where to go!"

"Oh yeah," said Ron, who had obviously forgotten. "Hey — hey you lot! Midgets!"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded.

"Well, they are, they're titchy . . ."

"I know, but you can't call them midgets. . . . First years!" Hermione called commandingly along the table. "This way, please!"

A group of new students walked shyly up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, all of them trying hard not to lead the group. They did indeed seem very small; Harry was sure he had not appeared that young when he had arrived here. He grinned at them. A blond boy next to Euan Abercrombie looked petrified, nudged Euan, and whispered something in his ear. Euan Abercrombie looked equally frightened and stole a horrified look at Harry, who felt the grin slide off his face like Stinksap.

"See you later." He said to Ron and Hermione and he and Tasmin made his way out of the Great Hall, doing everything he could to ignore more whispering, staring, and pointing as he passed. He kept his eyes fixed ahead as he and Tasmin wove their way through the crowd in the entrance hall, then they hurried up the marble staircase, took a couple of concealed shortcuts, and had soon left most of the crowds behind.

Harry felt that he had been rather stupid not to expect this, he thought angrily, as he walked through much emptier upstairs corridors. Of course everyone was staring at him: He had emerged from the Triwizard maze two months ago clutching the dead body of a fellow student and claiming to have seen Lord Voldemort return to power. There had not been time last term to explain himself before everyone went home, even if he had felt up to giving the whole school a detailed account of the terrible events in that graveyard.

Soon, he felt a hand on his shoulder breaking him out of his thoughts, notifying him that they had reached the end of the corridor to the Gryffindor common room. They had come to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady before realising that they in fact did not know the new password.

"Er . . ." he said glumly, staring up at the Fat Lady, who smoothed the folds of her pink satin dress and looked sternly back at them.

"No password, no entrance," she said loftily.

"How are we supposed to know it we —" Tasmin began but was cut off.

"Harry! Tasmin!" A voice called which the both recognised to be Neville. "I know it!" He panted out of breath. He must of been running to catch up to them. "Guess what it is? I'm actually going to be able to remember it for once —" He waved the stunted little cactus he had shown them on the train which had unfortunately squirted Harry in stinksap. "Mimbulus mimbletonia!" Neville recited proudly. Glad he could be of help to the two.

"Correct," said the Fat Lady, and her portrait swung open toward them like a door, revealing a circular hole in the wall behind, through which Harry, Tasmin and Neville now climbed.

The Gryffindor common room looked as welcoming as ever, a cozy circular tower room full of dilapidated squashy armchairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands before going up to their dormitories; on the other side of the room Fred and George Weasley were pinning something up on the notice board. He was about to go and join Tasmin with Fred and George to see what it was they were pinning up, but it was at that moment he caught Dean Thomas' eye from the other side of the room.

"Hey Harry." He greeted.

"Hi." Harry replied rather glumly.

"Good holiday?" He asked.

"Not bad." Muttered Harry, not really wanting to think about the dementor attack and how he had nearly gotten expelled from Hogwarts this year.

"You?"

"Yeah, it was okay," Dean chuckled. "Better than Seamus's anyway, he was just telling me."

"Why, what happened, Seamus?" Neville questioned.

Seamus did not answer immediately. Then with his back still turned to Harry he said, "Me mam didn't want me to come back this year."

"What?" said Harry. By now Tasmin had left from her spot with Fred and George and walked over to Harry, standing next to him and ready to defend him should he need it (even though she was sure he wouldn't).

"She didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts."

"But — why?" said Harry, astonished. He knew that Seamus's mother was a witch and could not understand, therefore, why she should have come over so Dursley-ish.

"Well," He said in a measured voice, "Let me see er . . . because of you."

"What d'you mean?" said Harry quickly. His heart was beating rather fast. He felt vaguely as though something was closing in on him.

"Well," Said Seamus again, still avoiding Harry's eyes, "she . . . er . . . well, it's not just you, it's Dumbledore too . . ."

"She believes the Daily Prophet?" said Harry. "She thinks I'm a liar and Dumbledore's an old fool?"

Seamus looked up at him. "Yeah, something like that."

Harry said nothing. He was sick of it; sick of being the person who was stared at and talked about all the time. If any of them knew, if any of them had the faintest idea what it felt like to be the one all these things had happened to . . . Mrs. Finnigan had no idea, the stupid woman, he thought savagely.

Harry was about to make way to the dormitory, but before he could do so, Seamus said, "Look . . . what did happen that night when . . . you know, when . . . with Cedric Diggory and all?"

Seamus sounded nervous and eager at the same time. Dean, who had been playing a game of chess with another Gryffindor, went oddly still and Harry knew he was listening hard.

"What are you asking me for?" Harry retorted. "Just read the Daily Prophet like your stupid mother, why don't you? That'll tell you all you need to know."

"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that!" Seamus roared, he had never looked so angry.

"I'll have a go at anyone who calls me a liar," Said Harry.

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"I'll talk to you how I want," said Harry, his temper rising so fast he snatched his wand back from his robe pocket within an instant. He couldn't help it, the words were just spilling out without his control.

"Harry!" Tasmin warned, putting his arm down, slowly taking his wand from his hand.

"What's going on here?" A voice rang out across the room. It was Ron. He, along with Hermione, had come back from showing the first years where to go as they filed through the common room rather hurriedly.

"He's mad is what's going on!" Seamus yelled while pointing an accusing finger at Harry.

Seamus stayed quiet until he spoke once more. "I don't want to share a dormitory with him anymore. He's a madman!"

"Now that's out of order Seamus." Ron was quick to say. He looked almost as mad as Seamus himself, his ear glowing a bright red much like his hair or the uniform he was currently wearing.

"Out of order am I?" shouted Seamus, who was now, in contrast with Ron, turning paler. "Do you two really believe that rubbish he's spurting out about You - Know - Who?!" He demanded the two stood by Harry's side.

"Yeah, we do." Ron defended.

"You got anything else you want to say about Harry?" Tasmin questioned all while glaring at Seamus heavily. Except, he didn't say anything about just Harry this time. "You're all just as mad as him!" He spat, now talking to all three of them.

"Yeah? Well unfortunately for you, pal, I'm also a prefect!" said Ron, jabbing himself in the chest with a finger. "So unless you want detention, watch your mouth!"

Seamus looked for a few seconds as though detention would be a reasonable price to pay to say what was going through his mind; but with a noise of contempt he turned on his heel, and began storming upstairs into the boy's dormitory.

"Anyone got anything else to say about Harry?" Ron asked. Everyone in the room stayed silent.

"My parents are Muggles, mate," said Dean, shrugging. "They don't know nothing about no deaths at Hogwarts, because I'm not stupid enough to tell them."

"You don't know my mother, she'll weasel anything out of anyone!" Seamus snapped at him. "Anyway, your parents don't get the Daily Prophet, they don't know our headmaster's been sacked from the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards because he's losing his marbles —"

"My gran said it's the Daily Prophet that's rubbish." Neville supplied, all eyes turned to him. "She's cancelled our subscription."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Neville. Nobody else said anything as they started to make their way up to their respective dormitories. Harry turned to Tasmin, only to find that she was having a rather heated conversation with Seamus in the corner of the common room. Hermione was stood by her side and Dean by Seamus'. Harry would get his wand back from her later. He then glumly made his way up the stairs to the boy's dormitory with Ron and Neville.

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 Tasmin had finally made their way to their dormitory which they shared with Lavender and Parvati Patil.

"Seamus really shouldn't of said those things." Tasmin huffed while beginning to take of her uniform. Lavender and Parvati were already asleep so they didn't have to worry about them listening in to their conversation. "I mean what was he thinking. You know, I should of just let Harry do what he wanted to do with his wand. Maybe he'd be able to magic Seamus his brain back. And some common sense too." She scoffed.

Hermione laughed slightly at that.

Tasmin sighed. "Has he ever been that angry before though? It's just — He doesn't seem the type to just blow up like that. It's like that saying that muggles sometimes say, 'calm before the storm'. I got that from Mr. Weasley actually."

"No. I mean . . . I don't know, I've never seen him that angry before. Apart from the time he found out Sirius was actually his Godfather, and when he first arrived at Grimmauld Place."

"Ah, I thought I heard some yelling."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Hermione winced.

"It's alright." Tasmin reassured.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Without even a mention of the name, Hermione knew who the girl was talking about.

Hermione stayed silent before answering. "Yes, I think he'll be perfectly fine. Especially with you around." She finished with a smile on his face.

Tasmin immediately stopped what she was doing to look at Hermione. "What's that supposed to mean." She asked.

"Nothing." She replied. "It's just, I don't think I've ever seen Harry so happy. And I think he's his happiest when he's with you."

"Me?" Tasmin questioned hesitantly.

"Yes you." Checking her watch, Hermione continued.  "We better go to sleep. We've got our first day of classes tomorrow morning." And with that, she drew the curtains around her bed shut. Tasmin sighed before she too, got into her bed. Hermione's words racking her brain for hours before she could fall asleep.

And I think he's his happiest when he's with you.

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