A/N: It seems that I am always apologising for late posts, but it really can't be helped. I've just lost interest in this story somehow, and then there's NaNoWriMo. I will not abandon it though, I refuse to, I've started too many stories and not finished and I have a really elaborate plan for this one and everything. So, with that in mind, three things:
1) There is a statement here that may seem inaccurate given events of the fic; I know about it, I'm leaving it for a reason.
2) The new student included, though way off canon, is here for a reason.
And 3) Further updates, again, will be slow, and so I've paused A Tale of Winter, with luck that won't happen here.
Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, nothing here except most of the plot is mine, and frankly, I don't want it. This way it never has to end.
*****
Percy the Professor
Though he was sure that it had, Hogwarts did not look as if it had changed a bit from the day they left it mere months before. As Harry walked through the front doors with Ginny, Ron, Neville and Luna, he couldn't help but be struck by how familiar it all felt, and then still foreign. Of course, considering that three people would now never walk through its doors again-one of who he would personally see to if he could-how could it not?
There were the same moving suits of armour standing tall against the castle walls; there were the same smiling and waving portraits-though a few looked rather grim now-welcoming back the returning students; there were the ghosts (Nearly Headless Nick actually sought his eyes to give a feeble nod) floating somewhat cheerily to the Great Hall for dinner and there were the proud banners of the four houses still fluttering tall as they themselves walked in. But it was all changed; it would never, ever be the same again.
Firstly, in the Headmaster's seat sat a new person. In robes of tartan with her hair pulled back in its usual stiff bun, Professor McGonagall greeted all the returning students with a slight smile (almost uncharacteristic of her) and a polite nod. Harry returned it and then scanned the seats beside her to see who else was there. Most of the other teachers had returned but four seats still sat empty, three of which would be filled later on that evening he supposed.
Second, as they took their seats in the Great Hall all noticed that half their number had not returned. There were large gaps between groups of students as they sat down, and though they were directed to come forward and together by Professor Grubbly-Plank-who had only just entered and was probably taking over Hagrid's classes again until he returned-it just emphasised how many parents had not been assured by the Ministry's promises.
At least a few had though, for as Harry sat down with Ron, Neville and Ginny, they were pleasantly surprised to find that Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas and the Creevey brothers, among others, had returned as well.
"Hey Harry," greeted Colin Creevey, and for once he was without his camera. His brother, Dennis, beside him shyly waved.
"Hello Colin, Dennis," replied Harry, returning the greeting as cheerfully as he could.
The obviously missing students, which included the Patil sisters, jarred his eyes as he went back to checking the tables. Lavender Brown, who was usually already giggling and speaking low with Parvati, looked completely miserable, and even more so when she saw Ron. Ron, for his part, made a point of not looking her way.
And, of course, third, under a querulous night sky, the hall was decorated by a series of black banners, the head table covered in a black table cloth decorated with the school's emblem in varying degrees of black, grey and white. They were still in mourning.
Gradually, everyone was seated and settled and Professor McGonagall unsteadily stood to speak. She said nothing at first though, just surveyed the room as if counting the vacant seats and seemed to note them with an increasingly dejected look. But when she spoke at last, finally finished with her count nearly five minutes later, she said firmly, "On behalf of myself and the staff, I would like to formally welcome all of you back to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… if lesser in number than we had expected. But before we get to the much anticipated meal and important announcements, let us have our Sorting."
She sat again and Argus Filch, the caretaker, opened the doors to admit Hermione, Ernie and the First Years. And Harry could not contain the very relieved but short exhale he gave when he saw them either.
For their part, the newly appointed Head Boy and Girl marched the students to the front of the hall without ceremony. Hermione, having apparently finally cleaned up her act, managed a smile at them while she passed their table, and Ernie did the same to his friends in Hufflepuff, but otherwise they gave no indication of any real joy in their new positions. Being Head Boy and Girl, considering the outer environment, was no longer what either must have felt it originally. And when they were at last at the head table, they deposited their young charges without a word, greeted the teachers, and then lamely returned to their friends.
Harry slid a space down for Hermione to sit between him and Ron, and when she did she exclaimed, "Thank goodness that's done, getting First Years into the boats and across the lake is harder than it looks! And half of them are still crying over Dr-Dr-Malfoy!"
There were indeed quite a number of red faces and puffy eyes in the group, making them very much a miserable-looking lot. Harry looked away from them to avoid thinking about Malfoy's death, and despite Hermione's exclaim she had actually faltered pronouncing his name. They had not been and possibly would never have been friends, but none of them could just ignore the fact that he was gone.
At the head table though, Professor Sprout had risen and was walking to the group with list and Sorting Hat in hand. While all eyes were directed to this, Harry took the opportunity to lean over and whisper to Ron and Hermione, "When this is done we go directly to Professor McGonagall."
They both nodded and turned back to the head table.
The Sorting Ceremony, the means by which Hogwarts students had been selected for one of the school's four houses-Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and of course, Gryffindor-since time immemorial was somewhat a much-hallowed event at the school. For almost as long as the Sorting Ceremony existed too, it had conducted by an old, worn mangy-looking hat-the Sorting Hat-which had once belonged to school founder, Godric Gryffindor. This Hat, being a magical hat, had a song that it usually sang before the sorting too, to introduce the new students to the houses and their qualities. On rare occasions though, and once in Harry's memory, the Sorting Hat could change its song, and this night was once more to be one of them.
When Professor Sprout brought the Hat and rested it on a stool that had been previously set out for the ceremony, the First Years stood a while staring at it both curious and surprised. And then the rip in its brim opened, and it began to sing… and repeated the warning song of two years previous.
Though now a song that they had heard three years in a row, when it was done no one could speak nor was there a dry eye in the room. The only sound that did prevail though was a thunderous silence that filled Harry's ears to shut out the world and fill his head with images of people, and all of them now dead.
He saw and heard Professor Dumbledore with him leaving the cave, the fake Horcrux in his pocket, his body weak and yet his declaration clear: "I am not worried Harry, I am with you."
He could feel the anger radiating in Snape's eyes-and in turn felt his own burning in his chest-as he called him coward and chased him to the gates, and then the hollow triumph as he revealed himself the Half-Blood Prince.
He could see the shock in Draco's eyes as the same Half-Blood Prince's spell cut through his chest, spraying Myrtle's bathroom and almost everything in it in his hot red blood. It quickly changed though, to a flutter of black cloth, and Harry's imagination procured and fuelled an image of a mangled, broken body, a white-haired boy with pointy chin, lying at the bottom of a dried-out river bed under the train tracks.
He shook his head to clear the image and saw Hermione studying him with an expression of deep concern. He looked away just as the first student ("Abdul, Corinne!") went off to Ravenclaw.
It soon settled into the pattern of the Sorting Ceremonies previous-moment of anticipation as the name called, loud cheers from the house who "won"-and Harry allowed his mind to wander. There were a far many other interesting things to look at, including around at the Aurors for who might have claimed the none-too-coveted Defence Against the Dark Arts post. Until, that was, he heard a name that had no business in the Sorting, unless he was mistaken.
Even Ginny and Ron snapped up to the head table when they heard Professor Sprout read, "Weasley, Mafalda!" from her list.
The last student standing: a small girl with her family's trademark bright red hair, bright brown eyes like Ginny, but freckled like Ron, and an upturned sort of nose that curiously produced an image of Narcissa Malfoy, walked timidly to the bench and sat down. Harry quickly leaned over and whispered to Ron, "Who's that?"
"O-our cousin I guess…" Ginny replied for him. "Our stockbroker cousin… he… he has a witch…."
Harry turned back to the stool and the girl atop it, vaguely remembering Ron's passing mention of him back in their first year. But as he did so, the Sorting Hat announced her new house, and shocked them all, "SLYTHERIN!"
Harry was quite sure that the gasp that seemed to resonate through the hall did not come from him alone.
Mafalda though, looked completely unimpressed, and merely hopped off the stool and joined her strangely cool new housemates. Ron looked at her go and said, "Expected as much."
Hermione, Ginny and Harry all looked at him with slightly arched brows.
Ron replied to Ginny, "What? You heard what he's like, where'd you think she'd go?"
Further discussion was interrupted though, by Professor McGonagall rising once more, and after sternly, and loudly clearing her throat, beginning, "I have some announcements to make."
Everyone sat straighter in their seats and went silent.
"First of all, the new rules: This year, in light of the on-going… situation… all Hogsmeade visits, Quidditch games and unnecessary deliveries to the school have been cancelled."
The groans and shouts of protest rose quickly, she determinedly spoke on over them.
"At the advice of the Ministry and our board of Governors, we have deemed it too unsafe at this time to allow them. Only mail and necessary deliveries are allowed, no student is to leave the school unless for a family emergency and for the foreseeable future brooms are only to be used for flying lessons. Students with their own brooms are only to use them with official permission."
The groans grew louder, but if any looked at Professor McGonagall, they might have noticed her own displeasure at the loss of Quidditch. Given the fact that the house last in possession of the cup was Gryffindor though, the disappointment could not be that bad.
Presently she silenced them once more, continuing, "Also, a strict curfew has been set in place. Students are expected to be in their houses by eight p.m. every night, and nine on weekends and during the Christmas and Easter breaks. The only exceptions of course, are for Astronomy lessons and detentions. Any students out after that time must have signed permission from a teacher or be escorted by a prefect. There will be no exceptions."
Harry thought that she gave him a meaningful look then. He maintained his expressionless one.
There was a pause, a soft sigh, and then she began again, "Now, I would like to introduce two new members of staff that will be joining us this year. You already know Professor Horace Slughorn, who teaches Potions…."
She looked to him and they all turned to Slughorn seated at the head table between Professors Trelawney and Flitwick. Still short and overweight with his shiny bald head, prominent eyes (in no way reminiscent of Luna) and enormous walrus-like moustache, he was dressed in yet another gold-buttoned waistcoat over some expensive-looking but somewhat shabby old-fashioned clothes. But despite this sameness in his eyes they could clearly see some exhaustion and though Harry could not be sure, fear. He greeted them all with a modest, deprecating smile though and winked at Harry.
"He has graciously agreed to retain his post to ensure that idleness is kept at bay. But he will have some specially trained assistance, as our new Transfiguration Professor-temporarily of course-is in fact, an Auror. Auror Nymphadora Tonks."
As her name was called, Tonks finally appeared, stumbling out of the shadows where she had been waiting, quietly observing them all, to the staff table. Her hair was a brilliant green, her robes just a size too big-and open, to reveal her Weird Sisters t-shirt beneath-and though she tried her best to look authoritative, no one believed it. Professor McGonagall quietly sighed when she sat down and knocked over a goblet. Harry wondered then, why, if she had obviously known of Tonks' clumsiness and slightly non-conformist behaviour, she had selected her for the position anyway.
She waved at them, and they returned it with bright smiles.
Professor McGonagall then said, "And lastly, but certainly not least, I'm sure… we have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor… Percy Weasley."
Simultaneously, the jaws of Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Harry, dropped.
But sure enough, stepping out of the shadows where Tonks had been was the tall, skinny Weasley-outcast with his red hair slicked neat and his wear-shorn glasses set primly on his nose. He gave the entire hall a look of obvious disdain and quietly and contemptuously took a seat beside Professor Slughorn.
"I don't believe this…" said Ron.
"Me either…" said Harry.
"Whatever makes them think that that prat is going to make a good teacher?" asked Ginny, as bewildered as the rest of them.
"Remember Umbridge?" asked Harry, and she paused as if actually considering it, and flashed him a grin.
"Now that that's done, I have only one thing to say. I know that we have all been through and are going through a terrible time. I know that we are afraid, that we are concerned, but I also do know that we are all going to do our best to carry on as usual. Professor Dumbledore… was a great man, and a good teacher, and would have most certainly loved to be here today. But he isn't. And we, who are, while we are not going to forget him, are going to do exactly as he would have wanted us to…."
She paused a moment for silence, as well as to gather her composure, before continuing, "I have been informed of the occurrence on the train this afternoon. I know that you are all distressed and disturbed by what transpired. But I ask you to remember that Draco Malfoy was a very troubled boy; there is nothing that any of us could have done no matter how much we wanted to. Our thoughts are with his family, and his friends, we know you all miss him."
There was a moment of silence again that even Ron and Harry had to observe, and then she announced, smiling now, "Welcome to Hogwarts, let the feast begin."
Piles upon piles of delicious-smelling and tastefully arranged food appeared on the tables before them. Professor McGonagall resumed her place at the head table, and Harry did not miss the distinctly peeved expression on Percy's face. If he had been planning on making a speech he was not going to get the chance. Harry looked away though, to whisper again to Ron and Hermione, "Remember, we see McGonagall after this."
They both nodded as they reached for their plates.
*****
Two hours later, the feast was over and the students were being herded off to their dormitories. Harry and Ron though, slipped out of the group of Gryffindors (a more difficult task than usual, but given past experiences no one batted an eyelid) and waited around for Hermione at the top of the staircase.
She would return a full half hour later-during which time Harry and Ron had taken advantage of the opportunity to look at the Slytherins slinking off to bed, the Weasley with them conspicuously at the back of the group-and sighing, said, "I like Ernie, I really do, he's a wonderful boy, but would it kill him to shut up?"
Both boys had to stifle their grins; she didn't look in the mood for it.
"So, ready to go?" she asked, having exhausted her complaints on Ernie.
Harry sobered at once. "Yes, McGonagall's supposed to be in the office and everyone else's supposed to be in their rooms."
They started off to the headmistress' office and Hermione asked, "Did you hear the new rules?"
"Yes, no Quidditch, don't remind me. Why don't they just put us into comas until this is over? Whose brilliant idea it was anyway?" muttered Ron, angrily.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance and Hermione continued, "No, I mean the rules about being out after curfew. It's going to make getting around a lot harder."
"No, it won't," said Harry. "Not for us anyway, we have the Map, and as soon as we talk to McGonagall we should have more. Dumbledore knows we can't hide here for an entire year while Voldemort's out there killing people."
But just as they rounded the corner they came face to face with Filch's red-eyed grey cat, Mrs Norris. And she did not look amused to find them out of bed.
Harry and Ron though, made a point of walking round her and carrying on as usual. Ron whispering as they went, "Expect Filch soon, wherever that cat is, he isn't too far behind."
For once though, he wasn't, and they were able to continue up to the Headmistress' office without incident. (Well save for the occasional portrait hailing Harry the closer they got to it.) At the stone gargoyle, Harry gave the password-it had not changed from the vacation, or at least, not yet-and led the winding staircase up to the office. Professor McGonagall, once again, was awaiting them at her desk.
"Good evening Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, I was wondering how long it would take you to come here."
Harry spoke first, "Good evening, Professor. You said in your letter that you wanted to speak to us first before you agreed to anything?"
"Yes, Mr Potter," she replied, sitting up. "I have some terms of my own."
The three exchanged glances and sat together before the table. Professor Dumbledore joined his fellow former heads in feigning sleep to listen.
"According to your letter, the three of you do not intend on spending the entire school year here. That you may leave, though you won't tell me why, and that you expect to be allowed to do so and as discreetly as possible."
She stopped and looked at them, Harry nodded, unnecessarily, and she continued.
"After speaking to Albus, I have agreed to your terms. But, as I said, I have some of my own. Firstly, as long as you are here you are to obey the rules of the school as they are. That means you won't be out after curfew, you will go to your classes, and if you have to be out, you will not do so without first making a formal request for permission or being previously invited. I don't want you just bursting in here every time you like, this is still your school."
The three nodded again.
"Also, as you expect discretion from me, I expect the same of you. You know the Minister's intentions, so that when you do leave I am sure that you have some way of doing it without attracting too much suspicion…?"
"Yes ma'am," Harry replied.
"Good," she said, sighed for what felt like the millionth time for the evening, and then asked, "Now, is there anything you would like to tell me?"
Hermione at once leaned over and placed the Head Girl badge on her desk, "I can't accept this."
"Why not?" asked Professor McGonagall and she looked rather displeased. But then, so was Ron, who was looking at Hermione confused and upset. Only Harry said nothing, having come to the general conclusion on her intention while he and Ron waited for her to return.
"I can't be Head Girl if we're not going to be here all year," she replied, simply. Her expression though, was more of surprise herself, than steely determination.
Professor McGonagall paused, considering this, and then told her, "My dear, at this point the school may not be open the entire year, unless Mr Potter here decides to hurry, so I think there's nothing wrong with you keeping the badge."
"But-" Hermione made to protest before she was cut off.
"No `buts', the badge is yours, and while you're here I know you shall maintain the prestige the position has always held," replied Professor McGonagall, firmly. "So again, is there anything else you would like to tell me?"
Ron looked for a moment as if he were engaged in a fierce internal war, and then said, "Percy…?"
Professor McGonagall's mouth became a thin line, and she replied, "The Minister personally recommended him, we had no choice. Don't worry though; I'm sure you and your brother can get along."
Ron looked away, immediately disproving that, but Hermione poked him in the arm and, turning back to the Headmistress, asked, "And Tonks?"
Professor McGonagall looked down then, with a little chuckle so uncharacteristic that it startled them all, and said, "Another one of the Ministry's 'choices'. We all know that she can be a bit clumsy but she assured me and I have seen myself that she can be trusted. If it helps, I will also have some eyes on her, she is a trained professional though, so the only ones who will be in any real danger will be the Ministry. She won't let us down."
Harry tried to convince himself of that-sure that she herself was going trying the same-and said, "Okay… well, I guess we'd better go then-"
"I have something to say," spoke up Professor Dumbledore's portrait at last, and they all turned to him.
"Our first meeting should be Wednesday night, the adventure, I'm afraid, is far from over," he replied.
"It was no adventure," said Harry, his voice cold.
Professor Dumbledore stopped a moment, considering this, and replied, "No, you're right, it wasn't. But one should never take life too seriously, it depresses the soul and makes it more vulnerable to harm than anything."
Harry said nothing to this; Professor McGonagall rose and bid them all goodnight.
*****
There was a surprise in the common room. As soon as they came through the portrait hole they were greeted by all of Gryffindor house gathered on couches, cushions and every available sitting place awaiting them. They stopped where they stood, and looked right back at them.
Eventually, the Gryffindor emissary, Ginny, stood and asked, "When's the first meeting?"
"What?" Harry asked, confused and then just a little concerned.
"For Dumbledore's Army, you've got some new members. The others would be here, but the curfew is up and the teachers are patrolling tonight," she replied.
Only slightly relieved, Harry began to say, "Who said I was starting the DA again?" but was cut off by Hermione, "You're going to have to give Harry some time to settle in, we'll have an answer for you next week."
The sounds of angry protest quickly filled the air, as everyone began to complain at once. Ron and Harry both turned on Hermione and Harry demanded, "What do you mean 'we'll have an answer for you next week', we can't do this!"
"I know what I'm doing," she insisted.
"You better," said Ron.
"Are you sure?" asked Harry.
"Yes, tell them," she told him.
Harry turned back to the others and raised his hands. Surprisingly, they all fell silent, and he said, "Next week, we'll have our first meeting in a week. We've only just got here, and I'm tired."
The groans of protest rose again, but they were weaker now and very quickly more than half of the gathered Gryffindors dispersed. Harry decided not to wait around for the rest, as of those that remained, including Neville, Seamus, Dean and Lavender, looked as if they wanted to talk. He nodded to Ron and Hermione and they separated and went up to bed. After all, tomorrow was the first day of school.
Before Harry fell asleep though, he remembered Draco, and Professor Dumbledore's voice running in his head, "It was Severus' belief that young Draco was being used as a tool to punish his father. I'm sure you know of Lucius' attempt at escape recently, Voldemort gave Draco this task at once to be rid of me and then to punish him for failure. It was a suicide mission, and any purpose to which Draco is put anymore-though he may have 'succeeded' here-may be to that end, to kill him."
For the first time since he met him he wondered about Lucius Malfoy. How would he take the news, and his wife, and then Voldemort? Voldemort would be happy of course, Narcissa would probably be distraught, but Lucius…. Harry had never liked him, was quite sure that he never would, but he remembered the way he had allowed his son to bully him…. He swiftly cut of the thought, they were a terrible family. They had brought this on themselves.
Yet when Harry finally fell asleep, he dreamt of trains.
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