Dementors and Dramatic Entrances
Charles
The day before school, Charles met up with Ron and Hermione in Diagon Alley, to roam around. He had gotten close to Theo in the past days, often going out with him (with an adult or Harry accompanying them, just in case). Theo had even come to Potter Manor once.
Still, this day was only for the Trio to hang out, so Charles hadn't invited Theo.
"I've still got ten Galleons," Hermione told them as they finished their ice-creams, and she checked her purse. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."
"How about a nice book? Ron suggested innocently.
"No, I don't think so," Hermione said composedly. "I want an owl. I mean, Charles has got Hedwig and you've got Errol-"
"I haven't," Ron denied. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."
Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.
"There's a magical creature shop just over there," Charles said, who knew Diagon Alley very well. "You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl,"
So they crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie. There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants Of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Charles, Ron, and Hermione waited, examining the cages.
A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.
The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter. "It's my rat," he told the witch. "He's been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt."
"Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.
Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better look.
Like nearly everything Ron owned, Scabbers the rat was secondhand (he had once belonged to Ron's brother Percy) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.
"Hm," said the witch, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"
"Dunno," said Ron. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."
"What powers does he have?" said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.
"Er -" The truth was that Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace of interesting powers. The witch's eyes moved from Scabbers's tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly. "He's been through the mill, this one," she said.
"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," Ron said defensively.
"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the witch. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these -"
She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs."
"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.
"Okay," said Ron. "How much - OUCH!"
Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.
"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" the witch cried, but Scabbers, shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.
"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Charles followed. It took them nearly ten minutes to catch Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ron stuffed the trembling rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head.
"What was that?"
Charles sighed. "It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger."
"Where's Hermione?"
"Probably getting her owl."
They made their way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As they reached it, Hermione came out, but she wasn't carrying an owl. Her arms were clamped tightly around the enormous ginger cat.
"You bought that monster?" Ron demanded, his mouth hanging open.
"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.
That was a matter of opinion, Charles thought. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermione's arms.
"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" Ron cried.
"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" Hermione purred like the cat.
"And what about Scabbers?" Ron pointed at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"
"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," Hermione said, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."
"Wonder why," Ron bit sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron and used their floo. They were going to spend some time at the burrow before Charles would go back to his own house. Hermione would remain and go to the platform with the Weasleys in the morning.
They found Mr. Weasley sitting on the table, reading the Daily Prophet. "Charles! Hermione!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you both?"
"Fine, thanks," Charles and Hermione intoned as they joined Mr. Weasley with their shopping. Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and Charles saw the familiar picture of Regulus Black staring up at him.
"They still haven't caught him, then?" Hermione asked.
"No," said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."
"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" asked Ron. "It'd be good to get some more money -"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."
At that moment Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen through the floo, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts with Harry; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and the youngest and only girl, and first Slytherin Weasley, Ginny.
Ginny, who had gotten over her crush on Charles the previous year, grinned sharply at him. He noticed she had gotten a lot more confident now, and her smile was cutting, not at all like the shy little girl Charles had gotten to know in the years.
Percy held out his hand solemnly as though he and Charles had never met and said, "Charles. How nice to see you."
"Hello, Percy," Charles replied, trying not to laugh.
"I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.
"Very well, thanks-"
"Charles!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy -"
"Marvelous," George said, pushing Fred aside and seizing Charles' hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."
Percy scowled. Mrs. Weasley scolded, "That's enough, now."
"Mum!" Fred exclaimed as though he'd only just spotted her and seized her hand too. "How really corking to see you -"
"I said, that's enough," Mrs. Weasley ordered, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello, Charles, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she swelled with pride.
"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.
"I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."
"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."
"Besides," Fred added, "we never had a chance in front of Harry. I take it he got it?" he added, looking at Charles, who nodded.
"Congratulations to him, then. He's such a well-behaved boy." Mrs. Weasley smiled. Then she snapped at the twins, "You want to set a better example for your sister!"
"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," Percy said loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner..."
He disappeared and George heaved a sigh. "We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Charles. "But Mum spotted us."
Harry
The Potters and the Blacks met up with the Weasleys on the Platform the next morning, and after a good teasing session Fred and George went away to meet with their own friends. Sirius and Remus had already left to get in the teachers' compartment on the train.
Harry found his friends already in their compartment when he arrived with Jéricho. Sera grinned at him as he stowed his trunk away. "Effie's settled with Astoria already."
Harry smiled. "That's nice." Effie had been more excited and bouncy than ever during summer.
The minute the train had started, Sera stood up. "Prefect meeting, guys!"
All of them {except for Adrian, who was snickering} groaned. They were all prefects for their respective houses that year. Adrian hadn't made it, of course, but that was expected. He was a strong spell-caster, sure, but he wasn't exactly punctual or sincere in academics.
When they reached the Prefect carriage, they found that the Head Girl alongside Percy was none other than Penelope Clearwater, his girlfriend. Cedric's Prefect partner was Haluna Green, and the Slytherin Prefects were Cassius Warrington and Eureka Yaxley. The Gryffindor prefect alongside Harry was Alicia Spinnet, who gave him a friendly smile as he stood beside her.
The speech that Percy gave was beyond boring, and Harry spaced out after five minutes. The others were no better. They all listened to the patrol schedule given to them, though, and Harry found himself almost always partnered with either Alicia or Cassius. That was fine with him because he was on good terms with both.
His first patrol on the train was with Yaxley, so Harry left the carriage with her, leaving his three friends to get back to their carriage.
Charles
When they'd found an empty compartment, Charles told Ron and Hermione all about Regulus Black's weird connection to their family and about how it was suspected that he might be after Charles. What he didn't them was how Regulus was Jéricho's birth father. When he'd finished, Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth.
She lowered them to say, "Regulus Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Charles... you'll have to be really, really careful. don't go looking for trouble -"
"I don't go looking for trouble," Charles countered, nettled. "Trouble usually finds me."
"How thick would Charles have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?" Ron said shakily. "Especially when the said nutter is his uncle, in a sense?"
They were taking the news worse than Charles had expected. Both Ron and Hermione seemed to be much more frightened of Regulus Black than he was.
"No one knows how he got out of Azkaban," Ron shifted uncomfortably. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner too."
"But they'll catch him, won't they?" Hermione said earnestly. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too..."
"What's that noise?" said Ron suddenly.
A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.
"It's coming from your trunk, Charles," Ron, stood up and reached into the luggage rack. A moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Charles' robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron's hand and glowing brilliantly.
"Is that a Sneakoscope?" Hermione asked interestedly, standing up for a better look.
"Yeah... mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron said. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Charles."
"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" said Hermione shrewdly.
"No! Well... I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys... but how else was I supposed to get Charles' present to him?"
"Stick it back in the trunk," Charles advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly.
Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a pair of his old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.
"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," Ron said, sitting back down. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me."
"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione keenly. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain -"
"Yeah, I think it is," said Ron in an offhand sort of way. "But that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honey Dukes."
"What's that?" said Hermione.
"It's this sweetshop," said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, "where they've got everything... Pepper Imps - they make you smoke at the mouth - and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next -"
"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione pressed on eagerly. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery, it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shades supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain -"
"- and massive Sherbert balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.
Hermione looked around at Charles. "Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"
Charles didn't get to answer as the door slid open and three people entered. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.
"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel."
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.
"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," Malfoy continued. "Did your mother die of shock?"
Ron stood up so quickly that he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Charles got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold Ron back. A voice said from behind, "What were you saying again, Malfoy? I didn't hear you, I'm afraid."
Malfoy's pale face paled even more as he quickly turned around. Standing there were Harry and another Slytherin prefect, who both had their eyes narrowed at the boy. "Detention, Malfoy." the Slytherin eyed him coolly. "For uncouth comments about a classmate's mother and background."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed; he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight with prefects. "C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.
Charles and Ron sat down again, looking appraisingly at the prefect who'd spoken. "Eureka Yaxley," she said. "Fellow prefect. Don't worry; we all hate that ferret."
With that, the two were off. Ron massaged his knuckles and said angrily, "I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year. I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and -"
Ron made a violent gesture in midair.
The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, and the wind roared.
"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look at the now completely black window.
The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down. "Great," Ron got up and walked over to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast..."
"We can't be there yet," Hermione frowned, checking her watch. "So why are we stopping?"
The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.
Charles, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.
"'What's going on?" said Ron's voice from behind Charles.
"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"
Charles felt his way back to his seat. "D'you think we've broken down?"
"Dunno..."
There was a squeaking sound, and Charles saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.
"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard...."
The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Charles' legs.
"Sorry - d'you know what's going on? - Ouch - sorry-"
"Hullo, Neville," Charles said, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.
"Charles? Is that you? What's happening?"
"No idea - sit down -"
There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.
"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.
"Who's that?"
"Who's that?"
"Ginny?"
"Hermione?"
"What are you doing?"
"I was looking for Ron -"
"Come in and sit down --"
"Not here!" said Harry hurriedly.
"I'm here!"
"Ouch!" said Neville.
"Quiet!" came a stern voice suddenly. Charles recognized it instantly. "Remus! What's going on?"
Remus didn't respond. There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Remus appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his alert and wary face.
"Stay where you are," he said and got slowly inside with his handful of fire held out in front of him.
But the door slid slowly open again. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Charles' eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...
A dementor.
As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Charles' gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak, being visible for only a second.
And then the dementor drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings. An intense cold swept over them all. Charles felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart...
Charles' eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in the cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder...
And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, horrified screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn't... a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him...
"Charles! Charles! Are you all right?" Someone was slapping his face.
Charles opened his eyes; there were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking - the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to him, and above them, he could see Neville and Ginny watching. Charles felt very sick; when he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face.
Ron and Hermione heaved him back onto his seat.
"Are you okay?" Ron asked nervously.
"Yeah," Charles looked quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. "What happened? Where's that dementor? Who screamed?"
"No one screamed," said Ron, more nervously still.
Charles looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale. "But I heard screaming-"
A loud snap made them all jump. Remus was back and breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.
"Here," he said to Charles, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."
Charles took the chocolate and put it in his mouth, warmth spreading immediately to the tips of his fingers and toes. "What the hell was a dementor doing on the train?" he demanded.
"Regulus Black," he answered simply. "I need to go talk to the conductor, now. Excuse me." He strolled past Charles and disappeared into the corridor.
"Are you sure you're okay, Charles?" Hermione asked, watching him anxiously.
"I don't get it... What happened?" Charles asked, wiping more sweat off his face.
"Well - that thing - the dementor - stood there and looked around... I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face... and you - you..."
"I thought you were having a fit or something," Ron said, who still looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching -"
"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," Hermione continued, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Regulus Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Professor Lupin muttered something and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away..."
"It was horrible," said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"
"I felt weird," Ron shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again..."
"But didn't any of you - fall off your seats?" Charles asked awkwardly.
"No," said Ron, looking anxiously at Charles again. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though...."
"I think Harry, Jéricho, and Sirius did, though." Hermione suddenly said. "I mean, when it was over, Sera Greengrass came in and asked Remus for help. She said something about how the three were unwell and needed help..."
Charles sort of understood. Sirius' short time in Azkaban still haunted him... He wondered why Harry and Jéricho had collapsed, though.
Remus came back again. "We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. Are you all right, Charles?"
"Fine," he muttered, embarrassed. Remus smiled kindly. "Don't worry; you're not the only one to have fainted. Harry and Jéricho did, too, though they woke up minutes before you. And Sirius wasn't much better, either."
"Are they okay now?" he asked anxiously.
Remus nodded. "Yeah. Thankfully, I had enough chocolate for everyone."
Charles snorted a laugh. Remus was a big chocoholic.
They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.
"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice. Charles, Ron, and Hermione turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.
"All right, you three?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform. They followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Charles could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.
The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. Charles felt a lot better since eating the chocolate, but still a tad weak. Ron and Hermione kept looking at him sideways, as though frightened he might collapse again.
As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Charles saw two more towering, hooded dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Ron got out.
As Charles stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in his ear.
"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?"
Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Charles' way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.
"Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.
"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" said Malfoy loudly. "Did the scary old dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"
"Is there a problem?" said a mild voice. Remus had just gotten out of the next carriage.
Malfoy gave Remus an insolent stare, and with a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, said, "Oh, no - er - Professor," then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle.
Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.
The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Charles followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!"
Charles and Hermione turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall was calling them from over the heads of the crowd. Charles fought his way over to her with a feeling of foreboding: Professor McGonagall had a way of making him feel he must have done something wrong.
"There's no need to look so worried - I just want a word in my office," she told them. "Move along there, Weasley."
Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Charles and Hermione away from the chattering crowd; they accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.
Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned them to sit down. To their surprise, Harry and Jéricho were also there. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Messers Potter and Black."
Before they could reply, there was a soft knock on the door, and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in. The three boys went red in the face. It was bad enough that they'd passed out without everyone making all this fuss.
"I'm fine," Charles said, "I don't need anything."
"Actually, he's right." Harry put in. "We've already had chocolate. Remus - uh, Professor Lupin - gave us some."
"Have you?" Madam Pomfrey looked satisfied. "Very well. Then there's nothing to do."
"Very well." McGonagall nodded. "Then you all can go. I need to have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule."
The three went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to herself. They ran to the Great Hall in a hurry to not miss the sorting, and just entered as 'Potter, Euphemia' was called. They seated themselves at their respective tables and waited.
It was just about to be declared as a hat stall when the Sorting Hat yelled, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
The hall exploded in cheers as Euphemia made her way to the Hufflepuff table. She was one of the very few Potters not in Gryffindor, but then again, it was sort of expected. She could have been in Gryffindor, but it wouldn't have suited her as much.
Hermione emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, just as the sorting ended. "Oh," she said softly as she sat beside Charles, "I've missed the Sorting!"
"No problem." Charles grinned at her. "Effie's in Hufflepuff, by the way."
"What was all that about?" Ron muttered to Hermione. They started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment Headmaster Dumbledore stood up to speak. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn't why Charles respected him.
No, you just couldn't help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as Charles watched him beaming around at the students, he felt calm for the first time since the dementor had entered the train compartment.
"Welcome!" Dumbledore boomed, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."
He paused, and Charles got the feeling that Dumbledore wasn't very happy with the dementors guarding the school.
"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Charles and Harry glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors," he said.
Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from Charles, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.
"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome three new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
There was enthusiastic applause among the students.
"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued, "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."
Charles, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Charles couldn't help but notice, though, that Harry didn't look too happy at this. Charles frowned and decided to ask him later. For now, he leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.
"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"
Charles, Ron, and Hermione were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.
Dumbledore smiled. "As for our last appointment... Kindly welcome Lord Sirius Black, who has agreed to take on as the Dueling Instructor of Hogwarts. He will also be teaching Spell-Crafting and Warding to all those interested from fifth-year and above."
As if on cue, Sirius entered the hall from a chamber door behind the staff table. His robes bellowed behind him impressively, and he winked, looking extremely dashing. Most of the girls sighed dreamily or blushed and giggled. Even some boys did! Charles mimed gagging, but he had to admit that it was quite a dramatic entrance.
After Sirius, James entered too, not quite as dramatically, but grinning goofily at the students and waving a bit. The other half of the school also waved and laughed. Charles' eyes popped out as he exchanged an incredulous look with Harry, who seemed as bewildered as him. Remus was rolling his eyes and mumbling under his breath in annoyance as Sirius and James took their seats on either side of him.
"Oh, and I welcome Lord James Potter, who's the Auror on duty at the Castle this year."
Charles frowned; why hadn't his father told them?
"Look at Snape!" Ron hissed in Charles' ear.
Snape was staring along the staff table at the three marauders with loathing. While it was common knowledge that the man wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, he seemed to be extra-murderous seeing all three marauders on the staff with him.
"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"
The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Charles, suddenly ravenous, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat.
It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. Charles, Ron, and Hermione, however, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Hagrid and James. They knew how much being made a teacher would mean to Hagrid. He wasn't a fully qualified wizard; he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year for a crime he had not committed. It had been Charles, Ron, and Harry who had cleared Hagrid's name last year.
At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.
"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed as they reached the teachers' table.
"All down ter you three," said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at them., "Can' believe it... great man, Dumbledore... came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough... It's what I always wanted -"
Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his napkin. Charles rounded on his father along with Effie and Harry. "Dad, why didn't you tell us?!"
James just grinned. "A surprise."
"How'd you like our entrance?" Sirius asked like an excited child.
Jéricho rolled his eyes. "Just please don't date any student, no matter if she's seventeen or eighteen."
Sirius gasped, mortified. "I have standers, Ech! Do you think so little of your father? I'm thirty-four!"
Harry snorted and laughed. "Well, you look more like twenty-seven, to tell the truth. Besides, all the girls were swooning when they saw you."
Sirius puffed up and Remus groaned. "Don't go inflating his already inflated ego, would you?"
That was when Professor McGonagall shooed them away. Jéricho went his own way, and the others joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower's large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, "Password?"
"Fortuna Major," Harry said.
Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases. Charles climbed the spiral stairs with no thought in his head except how glad he was to be back. They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds, and Charles, very tired, was quick to fall asleep.