Harry Potter and the Ancient Secret of War

Chapter Eight

Hogwarts At Long Last

“Aunt Petunia, if you disturb me any more, I will go send Hedwig to inform the Order,” Harry mumbled groggily in his sleep. There was a giggling noise somewhere in the room and Harry felt someone shaking him vigorously.

He opened his eyes to see Hermione perched on the edge of the bed and looking positively elated at the thought of returning to Hogwarts the same day. In fact, Harry shared this elation with her, but just not now, that he was in the midst of an unusually long slumber.

“Uh! Hermione! Why do you have to wake me up so early? It’s only…” Harry rubbed his eyes and said sleepily, while trying to determine the time by squinting at the clock on the left wall.

“It’s eight and it’s not early. Honestly Harry!” Hermione rolled her eyes at him, “We’ve to be ready and floo over to Headquarters in the next hour and a half. You’ve got to get a move on.”

With that, Hermione yanked the sheets off Harry, leaving him exposed before her, scantily clad in only his boxer shorts.

“Hermione, that’s gross! You’re not supposed to see me like this,” Harry complained.

“No, Mr Potter! I may not be!” she replied, “But in case I must remind you, I’ve seen you exactly like this over the last one month when I had been sleeping with you.”

No sooner did she say this than Hermione turned a dark shade of red. Harry too, found himself, blushing, and there was a sudden strange feeling in the extreme lower end of his abdomen.

“Sorry!” Hermione said, blushing even more furiously, “That didn’t come out right!”

“It’s okay,” Harry told her although he looked abashed as well, “But I still think you should go downstairs before anyone comes in and incriminates us for nothing.”

“Well, you’re right about going downstairs, but don’t worry! No one will come upstairs. Everyone is having their breakfast at the moment,” Hermione paused and said, “Speaking of breakfast, that’s why I came to wake you up. You must get ready and appear in the kitchen immediately within the next half hour, or you won’t get your breakfast.”

“Oh! Talk about a tyrant,” Harry teased her and then assumed an oily, almost seductive tone, “But you could fix up something for me later.”

“Yes, maybe Mr Potter! But then again, maybe no!” Hermione retorted as she paused while pushing open the door and exiting the room, “But I wouldn’t want anyone to take the chance.” And with this good-natured teasing remark, she left the room, leaving behind Harry to tidy himself up.

Harry sighed as Hermione closed the door and looked around fondly at the room which he had called his own for the past one month. He looked around searching for the right words to describe in his mind what he was feeling. Well, for one, nostalgia would be an appropriate word. Harry had come to regard the house as a real home, a place he wanted to come more often to. This was the place where he had crossed the line of friendship with Hermione and grown emotionally dependent on her. The house, the room, had now created for themselves a special place in Harry’s heart and he doubted whether he could forsake that place inside of him after all that had happened in the past month. And it was not only for the fact that it was Hermione’s home but Harry also believed that it was in part due to his own firm belief that the house had somehow contributed towards making him a stronger person than he had once been. He couldn’t place his finger on the exact reason, as to ‘why’, but he knew in his heart that it was true.

Exactly twenty-five minutes later, Harry walked into the Granger kitchen, only to see Hermione talking to her parents quietly. Remus Lupin was sitting immersed in the Daily Prophet as he sat in the living room. However, it was clear to Harry as he walked by that he was paying more attention to his watch that to the newspaper.

Hermione broke off the conversation and smiled at Harry as he entered the kitchen and sat down, “Hello, Harry. Good morning!”

Harry smiled back at her and wished her back, “Good morning, Hermione! Good morning, Mr Granger, Mrs Granger!”

“For god’s sake Harry, how many times do we have to tell you that it’s Bob and Julia and not Mr and Mrs Graner,” Hermione’s father said with an unmistakeable twinkle in his eyes, “And yes, good morning to you too. Ready to go back to school, I presume?”

“Yeah, more than ever,” Harry said with a grim that made Hermione melt right where she sat. (“They’re getting along,” she thought of Harry and her parents, “That’ll help when I break the news to them.”)

“Well, but you’ll first have to bear with Hermione’s cooking,” Julia Granger said with a laugh as she motioned for Hermione to bring Harry some breakfast. Before he could even try to say that he’d help himself, Harry saw a large pile of bacon, eggs and sausages along with toast, marmalade brought before him and he started wolfing down the lot at a speed which was just about less enough so as not to be called unmannered.

As he ate, Harry reflected on the apparent difference between the Grangers and the Weasleys – his favourite family. With the Weasleys, it was more crowded and merrier and you got the impression that everything happened exactly at one and the same moment. It was as if ‘Chaos’ was the rule of the house. But with the Grangers, everything was far more relaxed in a way (not laid back, mind you), more organised, in a manner of speaking.

One of the effects was very apparent to Harry. Over the past years, the morning of Harry’s return to Hogwarts was spent in the midst of a whole houseful of Weasleys and he couldn’t deny that things usually were very disorganised and confusing. But then that was the nature of the Weasleys. (Of course, Harry conveniently forgot that it was he should have packed his stuff up earlier each time). The Weasleys had this lovable ‘large-family-living-very-happily-together-inspite-of-getting-disgusted-with-other-members-of-the-family-more-often-than-not’ air about them, which was all the more reason why they were Harry’s favourite family in the world.

However, Harry couldn’t deny that it was nice for a change to be sitting quietly, enjoying his breakfast without the thought of packing and re-packing entering his mind even once. Of course, Hermione had nagged him to death until he finished his packing the previous afternoon and although he’d protested then, he was glad for it now.

* * * * *

About roughly an hour later, Harry found himself taking a portkey into 12, – the Headquarters of the Order of the – from where they were to go across to the King’s Cross Station. Dumbledore had apparently insisted on all Order movements occurring using Undetectable Portkeys (one of his latest inventions, Lupin had told Harry, to add to an already long list) He had reinforced the security arrangements around Sirius’ ancestral home even further by revoking the Floo connection from there.

Harry braced himself up as he felt the jerk behind his navel, and seconds later, he found himself standing on the kitchen floor of .

There was no one in the kitchen and this struck Harry as odd. But that oddness vanished the moment he concentrated on the precincts of the kitchen of the old, ragged house where he’d last had a peaceful and merry talk with his beloved godfather. Indeed, every fibre in Harry’s body felt as if it would dissolve into oblivion as he felt himself uneasily looking around for any sign of life in the room.

As he considered everything, he felt a light touch on his arm and turned around to see Lupin looking sombrely and sadly at him.

“Sort of reminds you of Sirius, doesn’t it?” he asked, a small smile on his face as he remembered his old friend fondly.

Harry said nothing, absolutely nothing. After all, there was nothing to be said. Perhaps Lupin would have understood if Harry had explained to him how Sirius’ death affected him. Perhaps he could understand this turmoil; after all Sirius had been Lupin’s only surviving best friend, who for the Marauder, was equivalent to his family (Pettigrew did not count, of course, after all no person on the side of the good would be naïve enough to associate himself with one of Voldemort’s minions) But Harry’s case was just, well, completely different. He and Sirius had shared a special bond; both were once outcasts in the world they were forced to live in. Both were hated in that world for things that were no fault of theirs. Both had faced enormous trials and tribulations before being accepted by friends who judged them for what they were instead of for what they were believed to be and for what it was believed they had done. No one could penetrate that bond, no, not even Lupin. So, like the Mr Repressed Feelings that he nearly always was, Harry decided to remain passive.

“Harry, are you all right?” Lupin asked, concern lighting his tired-looking eyes.

“Yeah, I am fine,” Harry replied in  an unconvincing tone. “Just feeling a bit dizzy after the Portkey. I think I’ll just sit here for a bit. You go and round up the Weasleys.”

Lupin appeared unconvinced, but didn’t question anything. He nodded to Harry and strode out of the room and on upstairs, taking care to be quiet so as not to wake up Sirius’ ‘sweet-tempered and extremely polite mother immortalised in an irremovable portrait.’ (Sirius had used these exact words to describe his mother to Harry once last year in what was a fine moment of wit and satirical dialogue.)

Harry took his seat at the kitchen table at the same place where he used to sit every single time last year, during his stay in this old house. His eyes fell upon the place where Sirius usually sat, joking, laughter and mirth clearly evident in his eyes. To Harry, it seemed as if Sirius would return at that very moment to his old place; but he knew, in his heart of hearts that he was hoping for the impossible. Sirius was not coming back, no never, and Harry…he was just not ready to accept that, even though he knew it was true.

“Harry…Harry?” he heard Hermione calling his name from across the table and brought Harry out of his musings and back into reality. For one, it just made the resurgent feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach subside marginally.

“I knew this would happen. The moment you stepped into this house, you would go back into your shell and forget about everything but yourself and your grief,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “You can’t go on like this, Harry, being mute about what happened in the Department of Mysteries last summer. We all loved Sirius. A part of every one of us died with him that night. You need to understand this, Harry. You must move this load off your chest and stop this self-pitying and wallowing.”

“Don’t tell me about what I must do,” Harry replied, indeed more fiercely that he should have, “You don’t know even half of the truth. You don’t know what I am destined to do. You don’t know anything about the pro…”

At this, Harry stopped abruptly. He’d gone on too far, and he knew Hermione would be quick to catch up on this. Sure enough, she’d raised her eyebrows at him. At the same time, though, there was a loud crashing sound in the living room, followed by equally loud, rude cries. Evidently, someone had dropped a trunk while carrying it downstairs and this had set off Sirius’ mother should for all she was worth. (Apparently, her son’s death had hardly fazed her.)

“FILTHY SCUM, INHABITING MY HOUSE AGAIN LIKE LEECHES. EVEN WITH MY WORTHLESS SON DEAD, YOU COME TO MY HOUSE, SEEKING SHELTER FOR HALF-BLOODS, MUDBLOODS AND HALF-BREEDS…” came the slightly slurred voice of Sirius’ mother from beyond the closed door.

But Harry heard none of this. He looked down at the table, at his hands, at his fingers and at the floor, at the walls - everywhere except directly at Hermione. Ashamed of how he’d talked to her, he broke the brief silence on the part of the both of them and said slowly and softly, “Hermione, I’m sorry. But I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t think I could talk about this, not yet.”

Hermione nodded in understanding, her brown eyes glazed with a couple of tears. She brought her hands across the table to Harry’s and squeezed his hands.

“It’s okay, Harry. I understand. But never feel that you’re alone. I’m with you and shall always be. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded and immediately he felt the mixed feelings of anger and guilt subsiding rapidly inside of him. He knew it was temporary; they would be back again after a while, but as long as he’d Hermione to comfort his like that, he felt he could overcome them.

However, he felt all his grievances ebbing away as he discerned Ron standing in the living room with them later on. Mrs Weasley had earlier come into the kitchen and after greeting both Harry and Hermione with her trademark bone-crunching embrace, told them to go and wait with their luggage in the living room for the Ministry cars to arrive. Harry had asked her to repeat what she’d said. Apparently, Harry found out, that the Ministry had finally retreated from its hostile stand against himself, although Fudge did still carry on a hidden propaganda against Dumbledore, perceivably to thwart what he still believed was the attempt at the creation of two power centres in the wizarding world. (Of course, Fudge was forgetting that Lord Voldemort had already done that job by polarizing the magical community). Anyways, the Ministry had evidently accorded to Harry, the status of an A1 secure wizard which was equivalent to the highest level of security a wizard could receive while being in the Muggle world. As a result, the Ministry was sending a car to pick them up.

As a result of all these developments, Harry was now sitting in the living room, with Hermione, Ginny, Lupin and Mundungus Fletcher, who’d evidently come the night before for an Order meeting and had since not stopped snoring, despite all the noises that were being made around him. Ginny told Harry that she suspected that the twins had slipped a sleeping potion into Mundungus’ juice at dinner in order to get back at him for selling them Neekerbreekers (A/N: This term belongs to JRR Tolkien and Samwise Gamgee. I don’t own it. I am just using it for a bit of fun, with the fun being the only profit) at what they’d reckoned was double the market price. Harry did not believe this though. He didn’t think that the twins were so foolish that they’d show the audacity to prank on their major supplier. He personally suspected that Mundungus’ mysterious ‘nap’ was something to do more with his ‘dealings’ than with anyone else.

There was also Mrs Weasley, who was, as usual, bustling here and there, doing this or that, completing what seemed to Harry an endless list of seemingly unimportant chores. Ginny was relaxing in one of the chairs while Ron was standing back in the shadows. To Harry, he looked eerily silent and thoughtful.

Finally, the doorbell rang and the loud cries of Sirius’ mother accompanied it. At the same time, Lupin whipped out his wand and muttered a silencing charm over the whole room so that they could only see Mrs Black’s face moving. No sound could be heard. Of course, that also meant that they were all dragging their luggage along with them in silence as well. But no one complained.

They made their way outside only to find a yellow-coloured battered looking car standing outside on the street with Kingsley Shacklebolt at the helm. “Hi there, everyone!” he said quite jovially (which was frankly a bit out of character for Kingsley) as they made their way to the car. “Hop in now!”

Harry would ordinarily have thought in the first eleven years of his life (ten of them with the Dursleys) that fitting so many people in one small car would have been impossible but with five years worth of experience of the magical world now behind him, he knew that looks could indeed be very deceptive. Sure enough, every one of them fitted quite easily in the car with the luggage sagely stowed in the boot.

“Wow, Kingsley!” Ginny exclaimed. “I didn’t expect you to be driving us.”

“Yes, Kingsley,” Mrs Weasley echoed, “How come you are here?”

“Well Molly,” Kingsley replied, “You know how it is. Dumbledore doesn’t want the Ministry to know anything about Headquarters and the Ministry insisted on chauffeuring Harry and his friends themselves. So, I volunteered to appease both parties. Fudge actually didn’t want me to do this, but you know how it is now, he is getting over-ruled for even the most trivial decision by the Warlocks.”

At this, Harry noticed a significant look upon Hermione’s face which meant that she had just comprehended something very important. But Harry knew it wasn’t the right time to ask her about it. He’d have to remember to ask her later.

The journey from to King’s Cross was spent in silence as everyone dealt with their own inner musings. Harry thought about Hermione, Ron, Voldemort…just about everyone and everything. Hermione thought about Harry and Ron and the upcoming year at Hogwarts. As for Ron…well for the first time in days, he’d finally reached a decision on his desire to maintain his friendship with his two best friends. Although the decision he took was not without debate and moments of withdrawal, he knew he must do it. And he was intent upon doing it.

About half and hour later a few moments prior to the departure of the Hogwarts Express, customary goodbyes were being said by the adults to the teenagers (In Harry’s case, there were a good many ‘be careful’s thrusted in with the rest of the words) He’d approached Platform Nine and Three Quarters with a sense of foreboding, fearing whether it would be the same as before, especially with Voldemort now out in the open. But much to his immense relief, Harry noticed upon passing through the barrier to the entrance of the platform at a relatively easy pace, that the platform was just the same as before, the Hogwarts Express looked no better nor any worse for wear and there was still the same old crowd of Hogwarts students swarming about the place.

As the train set off, Hermione whispered to Harry that she needed to go to the Prefects’ meeting and would be back later. She left along with Ginny who was the sixth-year Gryffindor prefect and Harry was left alone with no one to keep him company.

He gazed steadily outside the window. The settlements were passing by swiftly and Harry knew that in a matter of no time, they would leave these scattered dwelling behind and the Hogwarts Express would pass through dense woodlands, all the while advancing towards the Hogsmeade station and the stone ramparts of Hogwarts castle.

As he sat there alone staring outside, Harry remembered that day in his third year when Sirius had sent Pigwidgeon with his first letter to Harry. The thought of his godfather was growing on Harry’s mind ever since his brief visit to the ancient Black home and he tried his best to ignore those thoughts.

Some time later, Harry heard the door of his compartment opening. Presuming it to be one of the students moving around the train, he continued staring outside the window. But soon he felt that someone who’d entered the compartment staring at him earnestly. Harry turned around slowly, and was immensely relieved to find that that person was none other than Luna Lovegood, already dressed in her Hogwarts robes and still sporting the Butterbeer cork necklace (The earrings were done away with).

“Hi, Luna!” Harry greeted her. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Luna looked at Harry as though he were a tiny spider she wanted to take a closer look at. Then she abruptly stopped staring and said in a mystic, ethereal voice not unlike that of Trelawney’s. “Hi Harry! Hope you enjoyed the summer. Ginny told me you are seeing Hermione.”

Harry felt a bit awkward. He never thought that he’d have to discuss his love life with Looney Lovegood, of all the people. He shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat and was saved from further embarrassment by the sound of Hermione and Ginny walking into the compartment, with Ron close behind them, his face red and looking like he’d just been subjected to a lot of stress or pressure.

Hermione greeted Luna (a little tensely, it seemed to Harry) as she took her seat besides Harry and Ginny took the one on the opposite side. But Luna hardly seemed to notice. She just looked around straight past them and at Ron and said in her same dreamy voice, “Hello Ronald! Hope you had a good summer!”

Ron grimaced inwardly at her words. His summer had been anything but good. His fights with his best friends, his failed relationship with Hermione, the cold shoulder that he received from his mother and sister and the incessant time he had spent in the dark and dreary Black home alone…well, things hadn’t been good by any means.

However, he was jolted out of his thoughts by Ginny clearing her throat significantly, “Ron, I believe you wanted to day something.”

“Not before her,” Ron pointed to Luna.

“You know, Ronald, it’s rude to point at anyone,” Luna appeared unfazed by what Ron was implying for her to do.

“Don’t mind Luna, Ron,” Ginny said, “She’s a friend. Just say what you want to.”

At this, Harry gave a very out-of-character false laugh and said harshly, “What does he want to say? Didn’t he say enough during our last meeting?”

Ron’s intentions received a big blow as Harry said this. He’d expected to say his apologies and to have them accepted immediately by his best friends. But he realized now that it wound have been too easy to be possible. He remembered vaguely about what someone had said about choosing between the good and the easy (most probably, it was Dumbledore. The old guy always seemed to have the craziest ideas about everything)

Driving these latest thoughts from his mind, Ron focussed on his best friends sitting side by side in the compartment and said, “Harry, Hermione, it’s just that…well…I’m very sorry for…I mean, I know I acted like a big fool…like the biggest prat in the world but believe me…I didn’t mean to do either of you any harm. I guess I was just…just peeved at you both…jealous more likely and I’m very sorry for everything I did. I thought about this and realized that both of your friendship means much more to me than anything and I couldn’t afford to ruin it over the mere fact that you and Hermione are seeing each other.”

Ron was initially stuttering as he started saying this, but as he progressed, he felt the right words coming out of his mouth in the right manner and felt more confident.

After he finished, an eerie silence descended upon the compartment. It seemed that even Luna was watching the proceeding with great interest.

At last, Ron broke the pregnant silence and said, “Look Harry, I value both of your friendships more than everything. I am sorry for what I said or did, but I really want to be your friend again.”

There was another silence that followed and finally, Harry said, “So do I, Ron. So do I. But I don’t know whether I can ever forget what you did, Ron. I don’t think I ever shall. But I’ll admit this. You were the first friend I had and also my best friend all this while ever since I came to Hogwarts and I love you for that. As far as your apology is concerned, it’s more to do with Hermione than with me. If she accepts your apology, so shall I.”

At this Ron looked expectedly at Hermione. She was looking at the floor, biting her lower lip, obviously thinking hard.

At last, she said, “I forgive you, Ron. Although it will be hard for me to forget everything, I agree that your friendship is much more important than anything else.”

With that, she got up and walked over to Ron and hugged him lightly. Ron hugged her back and a smile appeared on his face. Hermione pulled back from the embrace and Ron got the chance to see Harry’s reaction. To his relief, Harry was smiling as well. Ron walked over to him and shook his hand.

“Nice to have you back, mate,” Harry grinned at him.

But immediately as he said this, there was a loud sob in the compartment and everyone looked up amused, in the direction of Luna who was gently dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief saying, “You guys are so sweet.” At this, the tension that had been imminent in the compartment all that while dissipated into thin air and the rest of the journey was spent in peace, happiness and great expectations with the upcoming year at Hogwarts, much like the previous times they had rode the Hogwarts Express.

* * * * *

That evening, the train slowly pulled into the quaint little Hogsmeade station and everyone got out in  midst of the familiar hustle and bustle of students getting down the train and making their way towards the Thestral-pulled school carriages. Hagrid, meanwhile, was there as well. Harry didn’t really get to meet him up close since he was at the opposite end of the platform, but he knew that Hagrid would take the first years to Hogwarts via a boat ride over the lake. Sure enough, he was shouting, “Firs’-years! Over ‘ere!” to that effect.

Harry waved his hand to his first real acquaintance in the wizarding world and moved over to one of the carriages along with Luna and Neville. Harry felt a bit sick as he saw the Thestrals. They definitely reminded him of the night Sirius had died.

He got into the carriage and closing his eyes, he tried to rid his brain of those very depressing thoughts. He tried to bring into force, every bit of Occlumency that he’d learnt from Snape. He tried to empty his mind but to no avail.

Suddenly, Luna’s voice broke in onto his thoughts as she said, “Makes you sad, doesn’t it? Sort of reminds you of that night.”

Neville looked at Luna and a look of comprehension dawned upon his face. But Harry remained rather impassive. Over the summer, he’d tried to avoid thinking about Sirius’ death. At that time, it had been relatively easy since he was in the Muggle world; but now, in the wizarding world, he realized that it would be far more difficult that he’d imagined.

However, Harry was saved from answering Luna’s rather, rhetorical question as the carriage rattled onto the Hogwarts grounds and entered the gates flanked on either side by the vision of two winged boars. The castle loomed closer and closer and finally the carriage stopped in front of the entrance. Harry got down and with a last pat on the mane of one of the Thestrals drawing their carriage, he made his way towards the Great Hall where the sorting ceremony and the subsequent Opening Feast would be held.

Harry took his regular place at the Gryffindor table and was soon joined by Hermione and Ron both looking very happy indeed. Hermione told Harry about Malfoy being the bullying git that he always had been and at the same time, wondering why he hadn’t made his customary appearance to taunt Harry during the train ride. But just as Ron was saying, “Maybe he realised Harry isn’t someone to mess around with!” the doors to the Great Hall burst open once again and Professor McGonagall walked in with the Sorting Hat and a whole line of frightened looking children in tow. Harry, meanwhile, thought that they looked more like toddlers than children.

Professor McGonagall was looking quite fit. She had probably recovered from the attack on her last year and as she place the old, battered looking Sorting Hat on a stool near the teachers’ table, everyone saw a mouth open near the brim of the hat and subsequently, everyone heard what was probably the worst rhyme, composed by the Hat:

            Long ago, foundations of stone

            Were laid upon the hard work of bone

            And thus was born

            In a world bleak and forlorn

of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Famous and alive for years far more than a century

The founders were great

They made wizardry an art

They worked hard in unison

And taught everyone on their part

But the future of the school seemed doomed

When differences between the founders arose

Such a quarrel there was

As cannot be expressed in song or prose

That time Hogwarts survived

Even though it was torn asunder

Yet everyone was relieved to see

That the school continued doing its wonder

But once again threat loom

When the date of our doom

Lingers over our head

When no longer can we have peace in our bed

With the enemy now out in the open

It’s time for the war to begin

Remember what always I’ve been saying

For that is the only key to winning

I’ll sort you into your houses

But you need to stand together as a wall

For the only truth apparent is

United we stand, Divided we fall

There was only a semblance of rippled applause across the Hall as the Sorting Hat finished its song, or rather its cryptic warning. Of course, it wasn’t all that unexpected since it felt to Harry, rather expected after a similar occurrence last year.

It was now time for the Sorting Ceremony and as Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on the head of a little boy having brown hair and wide brown eyes (his name was read out to be Ackerman, Alvin and by the looks of it, Harry could hardly tell whether his eyes were really so wide or they had grown so on seeing such wondrous feats of magic) The Sorting Hat shouted out Gryffindor and Harry joined his fellow housemates in greeting the new boy, who seemed to Harry, a Muggle-born by all means, especially since he did not make out anything spectacular of his lightning bolt scar, at least not for now.

However, as the Sorting progressed, Harry found his attention gradually waning. He now diverted his attention to the staff table. Dumbledore was sitting there serenely watching his newest charges getting sorted into their respective houses. Everyone else seemed to be there as well, including Snape who shot Harry one of his trademark looks of pure venom, Harry sighed at this. Some things would never change. Harry had no doubt in his mind that his ‘OUTSTANDING’ Potions OWL had indeed increased Snape’s loathing of him and incensed the Potions master to seeking out new heights of revenge.

But it was not Snape that caught Harry’s eye, it was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who was sitting beside Snape and surveying the students with a cool, calculated look. Yes, Harry knew that he was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher since there were no other real vacancies left on the Hogwarts payroll.

The new teacher, was well, in one work, he looked to Harry like an ex-Colonel or something or that sort who had retired from the army. He had a few soft features on his face that seemed accentuated by the wear and tear it had seen. His hair was like salt and pepper as was his bushy moustache that reminded Harry distinctly of Uncle Vernon. His dull blue eyes were covered by a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. He was wearing black robes, almost like the students and had a very interested look in his eyes that seemed to breathe life into their dull blue colour.

By the time Harry finished his minute observations, the Sorting was over and he saw Professor McGonagall remover the Sorting Hat from the stool. Finally when everyone was seated, Dumbledore got up and announced, “Let the feast begin!”

At this the empty plates in front of the students filled themselves with food and like every year, Harry spent his first two hours back at Hogwarts eating up his fill to his heart’s content. The food was excellent as usual and as Harry rounded off his dinner with his favourite treacle tart; he silently thanked the Hogwarts House Elves for being so efficient that even amidst all the upheaval in the wizarding world, the nature of their work had never changed. Some things never really did change.

Finally after the dinner was over and everyone was chattering across the Great Hall catching up on the news of their friends, Professor Dumbledore got up and cleared his throat.

“Welcome, welcome, to another year at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore began and the Great Hall immediately went silent. “I will take this opportunity to welcome all of you back from the summer holidays, especially the first years who will be spending the next seven years of their life at Hogwarts and the seventh years for whom this is the opportunity to be at Hogwarts as students for the last time.”

Harry was a little amused at this. What Dumbledore said didn’t make sense especially when you had your stomach full and your body tired. He caught a glimpse of Cho Chang at the Ravenclaw table and saw that she was listening, enamoured. He remembered that this was Cho’s last year at Hogwarts and that she might be trying to soak up the atmosphere, one last time.

“First let me get a few of the usual start-of-the-term announcements out of the way. The students need to note that the Forbidden Forest on the edge of the grounds are forbidden for each one of them, irrespective of which year they belong to and how much advanced magic they know. In case anyone has any urgent need to go into the forest, I would advise them to inform their teachers about that,” Dumbledore said dryly, at which there were sounds of scattered laughing at what many thought of as a joke. But Harry knew otherwise. He was hit by a pang of guilt as he remembered all that had happened when he last ventured into the , and knew that Dumbledore was indirectly referring to that incident. He tried to ignore that guilty feeling and forced himself to concentrate on what Dumbledore was saying.

“Secondly, Quidditch tryouts will be held in the week beginning next Monday and the Quidditch captains are to ensure that the schedules are prepared for the same,” Dumbledore continued in a cheery voice. The students at the Gryffindor table broke out into loud whispers at this, since there were five vacancies left on the Quidditch team. However, Harry wondered about the Quidditch captain. The only senior members of the team were Ron and Harry and he would have willingly bet all his money on himself as being the next Quidditch captain.

Dumbledore however, did not pay heed to all the chattering that had broken out at this announcement. “We are also very happy to welcome a new staff member this year to our fold for the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I am pleased to welcome Professor Elijah Bickerstaff.” At this Harry diverted his attention, to the middle-aged man with hair like salt and pepper sitting beside Snape. Dumbledore gave a short nod of his head towards the direction in which the new professor was sitting. In fact, Harry got the feeling that Dumbledore was quite pleased with this appointment. Professor Bickerstaff gave only a curt nod of his head to acknowledge the polite applause that the students were giving him.

“Before I let all of you off though, I’ve one more thing to say, the same thing that I told all of you during the Leaving Feast last year,” Dumbledore said, (Harry’s ears pricked up, he hadn’t attended the Feast last year and had no idea of what Dumbledore had told the school of), “Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. (A/N: Thank you, Peter Jackson and LOTR) Lord Voldemort is now out in the open and he will not stop until he gains absolute power or perishes. We are now at war and everything that we have created for the good of our world in now in danger. So, why am I telling you all this when it undoubtedly creates fear in your mind? I am telling you this, because each and every one of you needs to be ready. Every one of you is involved in this war, and somehow everything will change, when it will end, either for good or for evil. I have always said that Hogwarts is the safest place there is for any of you, but remember that even though that may be true, it is not unbreakable. The only way we can protect Hogwarts and ourselves is to be united. That’s what it will require to resist the evil that currently surrounds us and I hope each and every one of you will keep this in mind as you go about staying here at Hogwarts this year. Now off you go!”

With that, Dumbledore sat back down and the Great Hall witnessed a stunned silence, trying to understand what Dumbledore had said. ‘Hogwarts is not safe?’ was the subject of the panicked whispers of most students. No one got up from their seats and panicked whispers arose across the hall among students.

All this forced Dumbledore to get up from his seat and explain his statement with the air of a tired man, “There is no reason to panic. I still maintain that Hogwarts is the safest place there is. However, know this. If everything else in the magical world falls prey to Lord Voldemort, Hogwarts will most certainly fall. I will hence, reiterate that the only way of preventing such an eventuality is to remain united and fearless. We must learn to overcome our fears; we must learn to look beyond them and live our lives on the path of good. That’s why I told you what you did, because the time to keep secrets is past.”

With that Dumbledore sat down again. The panic among the students had subsided a bit and this caused Harry to wonder whether this year might just turn out to be like his second year when everyone lived under the cloud of fear regarding the monster residing in the Chamber of Secrets. However, there was indeed, one group which looked positively gleeful at the prospect of a weakened Hogwarts. It was of course, Draco Malfoy and his equally snobbish Slytherin mates, most of whose families were entrenched in the Dark movement upto their noses.

Finally, everyone started getting up from their seats and making their way towards the exit of the Great Hall. Harry saw Ginny and Hermione lead the first year girls towards the Gryffindor common room, while Ron and Rowan (the fifth-year Gryffindor prefect, Harry was struck by the likeness of their names) led the boys in the same direction.

Harry took a few shortcuts here and there and found himself in one of the many corridors at Hogwarts. He had covered about three-fourths of the distance to the Gryffindor common room within no time, by taking these shortcuts and was strolling along at an easy pace. He had almost turned the corner to the next corridor, when he felt the hair on the back of his throat rising and he ducked just as he felt the purple light of a spell pass over him. Harry was just about to roll over and shoot a counter spell on the person who’d attacked him from behind, when someone called to him in a smooth, silky tone, “Mr Potter, a word please.”

 * * * * *

Author’s Note:

Sorry, but I am having some thought blocks over the latest chapter. I have rewritten it about five times, and I still am not completely satisfied with it. It’s already more than 5000 words and I think it could end up in excess of 7500 words. Still, I’ll be trying to update this as soon as possible. Maybe sometime between Saturday to Monday will be the time. Thanks for keeping with me though.

Now for something on the reviews. I did not expect to get so many reviews when I started on Portkey, that too, with no flame in the 90 reviews I have got so far. The story has already got more than 6500 hits. So, I thank all the readers for the reception they have given the story. Please stick with me for the remaining chapters as well. (There will be about 30-32 chapters in the story)