Two Boys of Right & Wrong and the Hogwarts Order of Defense

LUCIUS MALFOY PUT BEHIND BARS
MINISTER EMERGES FOR STATEMENT

This was the heading that instantly met Harry’s eyes the morning after the long awaited raid on Malfoy Manor, which had taken a week of his stay at Grimmauld Place just to plan, and he couldn’t tell what he felt about it. He had wished--he had practically begged--that they’d at least save Draco from the place, but the Auror’s who were members of the Order simply returned that night to say it hadn’t been convenient, so they never got a chance.

Harry personally believed this all to be an elaborate lie, but had kept his mouth shut if only because he could see the way Hermione’s hands were shaking and the unusual frowns on the twin’s lips. He had to remind himself he wasn’t the only one who was worried about Draco, and resorted to eating his food in silence.

Now he ate his breakfast in silence as well, handing the paper off to Hermione who read it earnestly, while Tess took a seat across from him and attempted to lighten the tense atmosphere.

“Ron says your mini-Irontail keeps trying to eat his clothes. I sent my Horntail to Charlie as a gift, but you don’t have to. Be nice though. He nearly cried over it, I think.” Harry merely grunted his response, and so Tess frowned, looking almost disappointed in his dismissal. But Ron waved a hand at her to indicate he hadn’t meant anything rude by it, so she merely shifted in her seat to turn to Percy.

Harry spent the rest of the day sulking, as he was no use for cleaning Grimmauld Place anymore, which was what had calmed his raging thoughts the past week, so he instead laid on his bed mostly, staring at the paper or Draco’s letter. Sometimes he would even take his badge out from under his bed, or the picture of all the champions together, and would stare at the grinning platinum blonde, begging it to move, despite him knowing perfectly well it was a muggle photo. That was impossible.

Ron and Hermione of course worried for him constantly, lying to the adults that he was locked in his room focusing on the last of his summer work or studying ahead for the O.W.L’s they’d be taking that year, whilst telling him he had to pull himself together before Molly or Sirius or anyone else started asking questions.

But the voice in Harry’s head told him they didn’t understand how he felt at all. That they got a party and shiny new prefect badges to wear while he got confused looks as to why he hadn’t received one too, and nightmares he couldn’t shake. ‘Headaches’ became his regular excuse for everything once his friends called an ‘intervention’, which was believable enough, as his scar was giving him quite an amount of problems, but they still were skeptical.

Though, days out from seeing Draco again and getting to apologize a hundred times over for leaving him behind, Harry couldn’t care less what they thought of him.

-*-*-*-

“Draco, sit up straight, you’ll ruin your posture completely sitting like a hunchback.” The newly made ‘man of the house’ could care less if his posture was a little off as he leaned his head against the window of his Ministry escort car, ignoring the Auror’s driving him and the way Altais was squirming in his arms, desperate to break free from the confines of the frightening vehicle. And honestly, Draco could hardly blame her.

He had been careful to avoid Narcissa’s gaze all trip, because he knew exactly what he’d be met with--the same cold blue eyes that had pushed every trace of an emotion out so she could remain as stone cold as possible in front of the Ministry officials, straight backed and formal. The hidden anger and grief written into the lines of her face and thinness of her lips. Because yes, this was her son’s fault, and that was rightfully enraging, but also sorrowful to see her darling boy betray his idol.

But she’d never understand how it was all he could do to make Fudge listen. How many people would be saved from the claws of death because a couple wizards and witches got put in jail. Besides, Draco had turned over the possibilities in his head a thousand times, maybe more. There was no way Lucius Malfoy was going to Azkaban; his power over the Wizengamot far outweighed Fudge’s weak grip, which was slipping with each tense day.

So Narcissa could really cut it out with the passive aggressive accusatory glares, and admit their messy family would be back to being a trio in no time.

“Ack!”

If he got out of this car in one piece, that is.

“Draco! Oh, love, did that cat bite you again?” Draco winced as he glanced down at the four red dots in his skin patterned in a square shape and hid it from his doting mother’s view, who was leaning past Giausar’s--his eagle owl--cage to get a look at it. “If that cat doesn’t calm down I swear I will--”

“Her name is Altais, Mother,” Draco said, stuffing the feisty Kneazle between him and the door so Narcissa couldn’t reach her. “And she’s perfectly harmless, just startled. She doesn’t like this ridiculous car, but once we get out she’ll calm down, don't worry.” Narcissa didn’t look convinced, but she backed down anyway, straightening in her seat and addressing their driver formally.

“Driver, could we go a little faster, please? I would prefer it if my son made it on the train with his limbs not entirely torn by his own pet, thank you.” The Auror in the passenger seat sniggered while the driver simply flicked his mirror so he could look her in the eye and she him as he said, “Promise we’re going as fast as we can, ma’am,” even while Draco watched the arrow on the car's speed dial slow.

He didn’t know much about muggle means of transportation, but he could understand that meant they had done the opposite his mother had suggested, and slowed down. Beneath his arm, Altais hissed lowly, so he smoothly covered her little face with his hand and turned back towards the window.

He let his thoughts wander to Harry idly, and soon he was shaping a perfect image of the handsome Gryffindor who he was still astonished to call his friend in his mind and for a moment he let himself get lost in imaginary emerald eyes, before remembering how he’d sent the Ministry to retain his Dad, left him alone in his hell of a home, and gotten him stuck on this tense ride to King’s Cross in the first place, and a familiar sense of malice rose up from the depths of his heart.

He’d sworn off of bullying Harry ever again some months ago, but ever since he’d hugged his sobbing mother, and looked his former friends in the eye with a familiar smirk on his lips… Things were tangled in his brain. He didn’t know whether to be mad at them or the rest of the Quartet, and he certainly didn’t know how to act if he was mad. Was he mad? Was he mad, but not in the angry sense, but the crazy sense? That’s certainly how he felt when left alone in his room for a bit too long some summer nights.

Maybe he just needed a break from all his friends for a while. Aren’t breaks supposed to fix things? Stepping away from the problem, giving yourself some time to breathe…

The car lurched as it stopped abruptly outside King’s Cross station, and the Auror in the passenger seat swiftly hopped out, throwing open Draco’s door and reaching for his arm, but the boy slapped his hand away in an instant, cleanly sliding out of his seat with Altais wrapped in his arms, who instantly calmed just as he said she would once met with fresh air.

Narcissa excepted the help of the Auror as she stepped out the car and Draco pulled out his trunk and Giausar’s cage, waiting as the Auror flipped open the trunk of the car and pulled out his second, bigger trunk, before nodding down the paths of bustling Muggles before them. “Let’s go.” He grunted, and off they went, dropping the two trunks on a trolley and paying quickly before continuing towards Platforms 9 and 10, Draco placing Altais on top of his baggage and whispering an order for her to stay and be good, which she seemed to be doing quite well, even with the angry hooting of Giausar beside her.

The owl and the cat hadn’t quite gotten along well ever since Draco’s birthday, but they were intelligent pets enough to understand they had to look their best both for Narcissa’s disbelief of them possibly being worth keeping, and the Auror escorting them to the Hogwarts Express like prisoners, despite Lucius not even being fully convicted yet.

Still, Draco took his mother’s words before leaving the Manor and put them into action, keeping his back straight and head high just as she was, not at all caring about the way the wizards and witches he passed glared at the two Malfoy’s, no doubt because of how the Daily Prophet had plastered the news of Lucius Malfoy’s arrest on every headline for the past week.

He simply pushed through the barrier, ducked out of the crowd with his mother, and said goodbye in peace.

“I love you.” She said, as if to remind him, kissing him on the forehead and pressing his face between her hands as if he was going to disappear any minute and this was the last time she’d ever get to hold her darling son. It was jarringly similar to the many times she had done so over the course of the previous year, when the stakes had almost certainly been life or death, and not incessant bullying for a convicted father he caused the conviction of. “Be safe, okay?”

“Mom…” Draco groaned, wiggling out of her grip and squeezing her cold, shaky hands, forcing a half smile. “I can’t possibly get involved in another Tournament, can I? I’ll be fine.” She didn’t look the slightest bit convinced, still, so he lunged forward, hugging her tight, no longer around the waist, because he’d grown over the summer and gotten just a bit too tall for that, but he could reach her head of yellow hair and kiss it softly. “I love you, and I’ll see you soon. Dad too, don’t worry.”

The two Malfoy’s pulled apart from each other to simply gaze into each others eyes, cherishing their final second of summer, before the Auror gave a sharp whistle and nodded in the direction of the the train, which was now mostly full with the platform noticeably only filled with parents at this point, so Draco turned away, slipping his hand from his mother’s and waving.

He then turned and disappeared into the crowd and the smoke, headed for the nearest open car and loaded up his luggage, grabbing his bag containing Hermione’s book on Animagi, his shiny new prefect badge, treats for Altais, and light reading for the train. He climbed aboard the train then, tightening and adjusting the strap of the bag only so he’d have something to keep him distracted from the hundreds of eyes following him as he walked down the path of the train. He just needed to get to the prefect meeting, then find Harry, he didn’t need all the prying eyes boring into him, as if wishing he’ll get it over with and curse them.

And maybe that small voice wanted him too, as his hand twitched to his wand, hidden within his sleeve, but then he spotted a redhead and dark mane of bushy hair ahead and felt a tug on his lips, joy filling him entirely unprompted as he hurried over to the two.

As soon as Hermione and Ron spotted him, they smiled too, though Ron playfully groaned when he spotted the shiny badge as Draco slipped it out of his bag, while Hermione brightened even more.

“You're a prefect too? That makes it the three of us! Oh, I’m sure Harry’ll be thrilled.” The muggleborn exclaimed, and Draco spotted the badges on both their chests and marveled for a moment at how the Weasley boy managed it, and not Harry, but forced a grin their way anyway.

“Yeah,” He said, sliding open the compartment door and stepping into the magically enlarged interior, where the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff prefects were already waiting, “I bet.”

They sat together by the door and a curly haired blonde Ravenclaw waved shyly in his direction, while Padma Patil frowned darkly at him. “I’m Anthony Goldstein.” He said, leaning over the table that separated the two to shake his hand, and Draco took it casually. "Pleasure. I’m--” “Draco Malfoy.” A high pitched voice sounded, and the trio of friends groaned as they looked up at the open compartment door.

Leaned against it coolly, tapping the shiny new prefect badge with a finely manicured nail, Pansy Parkinson smirked down at them, looking just as vile as usual. Clearly, a summer’s break from power hadn’t dwindled her desire to own the school as Queen B, but enhanced it. And the prefect badge would surely only make her worse.

“How was your summer, Draco? I was so incredibly devastated to hear what happened to your father,” She slithered along the compartment and kicked aside Ernie Macmillan so she could sit beside him, starting to absently play with his hair as she spoke. “I always liked him so. Though, I do suppose you aren’t sorry. Seeing as how you are the one who turned him in.”

Instantly, Draco felt his hands curl into fists, and every prefect in the compartment snapped to him, except Hermione, who remained glaring at Pansy, saying, “That’s enough! No one knows who gave the Auror’s the tip--”

“No… but who else could it have been? Who else would Fudge believe? Surely not the murderer Harry Potter. No one’ll believe him now.” Ron and Hermione gave each other a worried glance that said everything, and Draco was just getting to his feet, reaching for his wand, ready to fight…

When the door slid open suddenly, and with a light tap on his shoulder Draco collapsed back in his seat as he got a face full of hottie-McHotstuff Head Boy Cedric Diggory, who was grinning kindly, as usual. He had just opened his mouth for a greeting when Head Girl Angelina Johnson marched forward, chin high and authoritative like a true Quidditch Captain, and waved him aside to take the lead in the meeting.

“Alright listen up, I want to make this quick. I got two eager redheads waiting to dazzle me and Quidditch maps to perfect so I do not need you wasting my time. Now,” She glanced around at the selection of mismatched prefects with her hands on her hips. At Padma, sitting primly and waiting instruction with her hands folded on her knees, and Anthony attempting to copy her straight back beside her. At Hannah Abbott, pushed into a corner with a book up to her nose, hiding her face, and Ernie Macmillan seated uncomfortably against the window across from her, Pansy sprawled out beside him, making his face go red. And Ron and Hermione, holding hands for comfort, the latter already sliding her hand down to Draco’s because what she needed right now was a reminder of how things used to be two months ago. A hope that he hadn’t become closed off and cold as Harry had.

And when he turned to look at her, and saw the grief written all too clearly in dark brown eyes, he smiled, recognizing just as Harry had that Hermione deserved it.

Angelina frowned, but quickly snapped out of her daze of trying to decide how to deal with the mismatched bunch, and delved into a speech which was clearly well rehearsed, leaning on Cedric to jump in at times when it seemed the kids needed a kinder hand.

True to her word, the speech was short, and Draco supposed that it was an even better thing because he couldn’t hardly remember any of it. But soon they were dismissed anyway, and the trio got up to leave, but not before Pansy pushed through them with a wink in Draco’s direction that made his stomach twist in angry knots, making him slow down and give Anthony a chance to grab his wrist.

He recoiled instantly, if only on instinct, expecting to turn and see a wand pointed in his face, but instead he saw the boy had raised his hands up in a surrendering motion, forcing a shaky smile. “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you. I just wanted to say that I… That I don’t blame you.”

Draco started. “Blame me?” He blinked profusely, looking between this strange Ravenclaw who was beginning to look like quite an idiot holding up the prefect’s wanting to get out of the compartment behind him, and the two Gryffindors waiting behind him, already out in the aisle, shrugging their shoulders. “For what?”

“For your dad!” He exclaimed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which Draco knew it to most certainly not be. “It’s not your fault he’s going to Azkaban right? Listen, I just wanted to say congrats. Couldn’t, last year, but I really wanted to. You were brilliant in the Tournament really brilliant--”

Draco turned sharply on his heel and marched away, Ron hurrying behind him while Hermione scoffed and gave the startled Ravenclaw a hurried apology before following. He didn’t have time for his blunders. All he wanted right now was to collapse in a silent compartment with Harry, and await his desperate apology, which he would listen to with an exaggerated frown, then grin and watch relief pour over his dark features as he waved a hand at the Gryffindor and claimed it to be ‘water under the bridge’ or some other strange muggle term.

His musings were interrupted by Hermione, of course, who was shoving herself beside him and angrily glaring.

“That was rude,” She snapped, her hair bouncing with the anger of her stomps. “And uncalled for.” Her eyes had lit up with a spark Draco knew instantly meant he had slipped up, and now she really did think he was just as hopeless as her Gryffindor friend. But maybe he was, and this submission is probably why he ended up shrugging his shoulders and making her glare even harder.

“It was nothing personal, Granger,” He said casually, sliding open the door at the end of the train car, and leaning over to open the door to the luggage car in front of him and hopping over the racing tracks to get to it, causing the muggleborn to now have to shout of the wind.

“If it was nothing personal why would you have done it? You just met him, Malfoy, way to set an example!” She shouted as he pushed aside different trunks to reach his own with his robes inside. “You are a prefect now after all.”

“He is too. Your point?” He glanced over at her briefly, pulling out his freshly ironed, Slytherin green school robes. “C’mon, Granger, it’s just the way we talk, alright? Slytherin language. Cold attitude is how we show affection.” He slid the robes over his head but could still clearly hear her scoff and Ron commenting, "You can't exactly 'show affection' if you don't say anything.”

He hopped back onto the car and followed the Gryffindor’s as they led him to the far back of it then, keeping his head low once more to avoid the gazes of students whose smiles immediately vanished upon laying eyes on him. Why’d he have to be the only son of a Death Eater who got caught? If Crabbe and Goyle’s dad’s were taken in…

Actually, he didn’t quite know if that would make things easier or more difficult, as he passed their shared compartment with Nott, who was predictably huddled in a corner with a book, and caught the way their smiles towards him were a bit too forced. It was then he remembered Pansy’s words, and a fleeting, dark thought floated to the forefront of his brain.

Do they think I’ll be the reason their dad’s get caught in the future?

They stopped outside the door to the last compartment, and Draco slumped resignedly as Ron threw the sliding door open and his eyes landed on the mismatched bunch inside, just the sort Harry Potter would undoubtedly go frolicking with. He should have known.

Sitting within this compartment was a youngest and only female Weasley, who Draco had to pry into the depths of his brain to remember the name of, but then he debated for a moment whether ‘Ginevra’ could've been a prank by the twins because that name was seriously ridiculous, but he didn't care all that much, so found himself horrified by the abomination in Longbottom's hands, and his mere presence in fact. He seriously thought Harry at least understood how lesser of company that blubber was, but when his eyes fell on the Ravenclaw girl pushed in a corner with an upside down magazine well, that just made him lose all faith in Gryffindor kind.

But before he could ask why in the name of Merlin's pants Harry was sitting with Loony Lovegood, Ron had already thrown himself into the seat beside the jet black haired boy, stowing his tiny owl's bird beside Hedwig's cage and grabbing a chocolate frog while announcing. "I'm starving," and immediately bit into it. Harry could clearly care less about the thievery, as he immediately sprung up from his seat and hesitated a moment between hugging or simply standing in front of Draco, and settled on clinging to his shoulders.

"Draco!"

"Hi Harry."

The two boys spent what felt like an eternity just staring into each others eyes, soaking in the presence of the other and, slowly, as they gazed into emerald or gray, they realized how the other's summer had gone and how they really felt, and that's what caused them to step away from each other, to let go, and to grimace.

Draco saw in Harry the anger barely being contained, while Harry saw in Draco the grief he was attempting to hide between stone features. But both recognized that haunted gaze. The loss of innocence. Because both had been to the graveyard, both had seen Viktor Krum murdered, and both had seen Voldemort's return.

They sat down slowly, Harry choosing to go to Ginny's side while Draco sat across from him, beside Luna. Hermione stood awkwardly in the door for a moment, before sitting with Ron, who had closed his eyes with an expression that read, 'I'm not seeing this' while Hermione's read, 'I very much am.' Not in a good way.

"Er…" For once, the bright witch was at a loss for words for the situation, before finally forcing a smile and blurting, "Draco's the Slytherin prefect!"

Harry nodded, but Draco took in the way his expression darkened, and knew his hunch had been right. The Boy Who Lived wasn't in any way happy about all his friends becoming prefects and not him, but when was he ever the one to actually express how he was feeling? Then again, when was Draco ever good at that either?

"Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein are for Ravenclaw." Ron said, pinching the bridge of his nose and wincing before sitting up and opening his eyes. "And Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan for Hufflepuff." Harry turned to his friend, eyebrow raised in question, suspecting the exact answer to his question before he even asked it.

"Whose the other for Slytherin?"

All three prefect's present groaned. "Pansy Parkinson." Hermione growled while Draco murmured, "Total pig."

"Dunno, always thought of her as a cow." Said Ron, taking another frog while Hermione released a very not-like-Hermione giggle. "I agree."

"Have to say her face always reminded me more of a pug." Harry confessed, and then the whole Quartet burst out laughing, whilst Ginny giggled and Neville laughed nervously, Luna peering over her Quibbler with a smile.

It got less awkward after that once Harry and Draco's eyes met while laughing, and they remembered, seemingly in unison, how good their friendship had been last year, and that masked grief and anger could wait for maybe a few more hours, so they could feel, just for a second, that joy again. The union the Quartet had had during the Triwizard Tournament, and how Dumbledore had reminded the school to maintain that same unity.

Just as they passed this silent message between each other with just their eyes, the door slid open, and they turned and saw with great surprise the Head Boy himself, skin practically glistening in the sunlight coming from the windows, with one arm hooked around his girlfriend's shoulders, whose dark hair practically shimmered.

As usual Cedric and Cho were proving to be the hottest couple at Hogwarts in centuries.

“Hello, Harry!” Cho waved while Cedric nodded at them all, and Harry felt his face go pink despite his attempts for the opposite. “Have a good summer, everyone?” Cedric asked and the kids gave half hearted nods in response, still unsure why these two were visiting.

“Sorry about Angelina,” Cedric continued, unhooking himself from Cho, to which her ever present smile flinched slightly at being separated from her boyfriend, but he seemed to not notice. “She can get pretty… intense sometimes. I barely managed to convince her to keep the speech as short as she did,” He shook his head, “Probably would’ve gone on for at least an hour otherwise.”

“It’s alright, Cedric,” Hermione said as she noticed the others absentminded nods. “It was useful to know how serious we had to be about being prefects. Right, Ronald?” The boy beside her, who was shoving a third chocolate frog into his mouth now, looked around in confusion before settling on her gaze and widening his eyes. “What?” Hermione rolled her eyes, but Cedric smirked, seemingly amused.

“It’ll be nice to be back on the Quidditch field, right?” He asked, stepping forward into the compartment and waving his wand, making it stretch itself so he’d have room to sit beside Harry, Cho now standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Yeah,” Harry said, actually brightening for a change at the thought of being back in the sky, chasing a brilliant golden snitch. “Can finally challenge you to a real rematch.” He gave the Hufflepuff Seeker a crooked grin which still couldn’t quite meet his eyes, but was enough to convince him and make Draco jump in, saying, “That’s if I don’t wipe you out of the competition first.” while raising his eyebrows mischievously.

“Be realistic, Malfoy,” Cho said slyly, folding her arms against her chest. “You can barely keep your broom steady as it is.” Ron actually let out a barking laugh at that, going as far as to lean towards Cho for a high five, and it made Harry’s spirits lift to something that could be considered normal, because he had worried, briefly, his friends might not get along well with his crush as he did, but seemingly they were fine, though he did see the way his eyes were eyeing the Tutshill Tornados badge on her chest skeptically.

“Well, I better get back to the compartment, right Cho?” Cedric asked and the girl nodded, though Harry couldn’t help but notice how her eyes flicked to him as she began to step out of sight, and a hint of a smirk tugged on her lips, before she had grabbed a tight hold of Cedric’s hand and with a wave from the Hufflepuff, the two left.

The ride was somewhat silent after that. Harry asked to read Luna’s Quibbler once she’d rolled it up after it started to rain outside, and had become quickly unimpressed by what it contained and handed it back, much to her displeasure, though Crookshanks and Altais brought everyone out of the awkwardness once they noticed how the two had begun play fighting on the floor with Ron’s growing pile of candy wrappers, which they had somehow managed to form into a ball all on their own.

It was quite entertaining watching them roll around in a true cat fight, and soon got them all laughing, even Luna.

Once they’d finished however, Hermione stood up, taking Ron’s hand and pulling him to his feet as well, and announced, “We should get changed.”

After pulling their robes on, the two Gryffindor prefect’s joined Draco, who was already waiting at the door, and left to monitor the students soon to be piling out the train, which left Harry with the others and a pile of pets.

Neville left quickly with his arms full of his strange plant, though Harry sensed he was very grateful to have his arms already full as he eyed the two cats on the floor, who had proven by their fighting to be formidable beasts. Ginny had scooped Crookshanks up in a hug quickly though, even if the orange cat didn’t seem pleased, and Luna slowly knelt before the pale white Kneazle, petting her fur before lifting Altais in her arms as well, and holding out her hand to Harry.

“I can take that one,” She said, nodding towards Pigwideon, who was already unhappy with his cage as he spun around it excitedly. Harry nodded gratefully and so she lifted up his cage and they headed out the compartment into the bustle of students struggling to either get towards the carriages or boats, if you happened to be a first year.

Speaking of, Harry was quite surprised to not hear a yelling Hagrid’s familiar call of “Frs’ years over ‘ere… firs’ years…” As it was as normal a sound to him each year coming to Hogwarts as the hooting of owls, meows of cats, croaks of toads, and whistling of the train. So where had it gone?

He got his answer once he, Ginny, and Luna began pushing through the crowd, and a different voice called out across the crowd of students, “First years line up over here, please! All first years to me!” And when he turned, he saw it to be the short-timed substitute for Car of Magical Creatures, Professor Grubbly-Plank, and, in spite of himself, he blurted aloud, “Where’s Hagrid?” But gained no reply, as when he turned back, he saw he had been separated from the two fourth years by the crowd.

He kept pushing through the crowd all the way to the carriages but all the while thought of Hagrid, which didn’t stop until he finally reached the horse-less transportation which had become familiar as well, and turned for any sign of his friends, ending up doing a double take because what do you know, those carriages were certainly not horse less anymore.

Though, he could hardly call what was drawing them horses. They had four legs, and big leather wings folded out the sides of their reptilian-like black coats, which were barely visible, as every bone in their skeletal-like bodies was showing, including in their dragonish heads and wide, white eyes. Pupil-less and, quite frankly, Harry had to admit while standing inches away from the creature in front of him’s nose, very creepy.

“Where’s Pig?” He nearly sprung out his skin, turning sharply to see Ron coming up behind him casually, as if the sudden appearance of horses straight from nightmares wasn’t entirely strange and unusual. Though given the track record of what he and his friends had seen at Hogwarts, he supposed Ron just went with it all after four years, going on five. So Harry merely replied, “That Luna girl was carrying him,” jumping to a more strange occurrence pressing on his mind, “Where d’you reckon--”

“--Hagrid is? I dunno,” said Ron, sounding thoroughly worried as he too glances around the crowds of kids for the Half-Giants massive form. “He’d better be okay…” “Knowing that oaf’s track record of surviving the most ridiculous circumstances,” Draco drawled and they turned to see the Slytherin slowly making his way towards them casually. “I’m sure he’ll be back in all his horrific animal obsession glory soon. Nothing can fire him. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

After he’d finished with his dramatic entrance and seemed satisfied with Ron’s half-hearted glare, Draco’s eyes slowly sliding over to the carriages and, just like Harry, he did a full double take, cool slouched posture slipping to a straight back and tense muscles as he stared wide eyed at the terrifying horses.

“Wha--What are those?” He choked out in a shaky voice Harry was sure he’d be pretending he’d never used in his life before the next day.

Ron looked around, confused, frowning slightly, and asked, “What are what?”

“Those! Those things, those… The horses! Drawing the carriage, Weasel, what are they?” Ron again looked around, this time even more confused as he took in Draco’s words, because nothing had ever, in their four years at Hogwarts, pulled these carriages before, but he found nothing again, so he turned back to Draco, one eyebrow raised mischievously. “There’s nothing there, Ferret. Now, is there something still up in that thick skull of yours? Or have you lost your mind now too?”

The pointed face drew down in a deep frown. “Believe me, Weasley, if anyone here has a thick skull it’s you,” he gestured to the strange creatures drawing the carriage. “And somehow your brain still managed to escape it because there are clearly creatures here!”

Ron opened his mouth for a retort, but Harry raised his hand out to him, shaking his head. “No, Ron, he’s right. I can see them too.” Now the ginger turned to his best friend with eyes wide as saucers, mouth gaping just as wide. “You what? Harry… Harry, I hope you aren’t seriously barking or the Prophet’s gonna wake up the globe with the celebrations they’d have.”

“Did I hear that right?” Ron’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what he’d done while the other two boys craned their heads over the crowd to see Pansy making her way towards them, shoving second-years nearly half her size out of her way as she pranced. “Has Potter really gone mad?”

Her bellowed voice made many heads turn in Harry’s direction, horror written on their faces and murmurs already spreading like wildfire, to which Pansy smirked proudly at, and Draco groaned under his breath, “Only been here ten minutes and she’s already stirring up trouble.”

“I swear I’ll report her!” He nearly jumped out his skin when a bushy head of hair appeared out of seemingly nowhere beside him, face flushed red in anger. “Already abusing her power… Draco, I swear, if you step even a toe out of line I’ll be marching down to the dungeons and--” “Woah, Granger!” Draco turned and grabbed her by the shoulders and looked at her seriously. “Calm yourself. I’m ashamed of you, I thought you knew I’ve changed my wicked ways?” The witch merely frowned darkly, looking very doubtful, so he shook his head and turned her around to face the creepy horses instead of continuing with the uncomfortable topic.

“Either way, please tell me you can see them.” His voice was as pleading as his dignity would let it be, because she was the smartest witch his age, so if she couldn’t see it that certainly meant the whole world was mad, or he and Harry were, and neither were desirable options when he seriously just stepped off the train.

“What am I supposed to be seeing?”

He let out a long groan and face palmed, but Hermione merely shook her head in dismissal, seemingly thinking this was just another one of his antics, and turning back to the others. “Where’s Crookshanks?”

“Ginny has--Oh, here she comes.” Sure enough the wild head of red hair burst from the crowd with a squirming Crookshanks, spotting Hermione and gratefully holding her arms out, the other girl taking him just as gladly. “Come on, let’s get a carriage together before they all fill up…”

“I haven’t got Pig yet!” Ron called in protest, uselessly, as Hermione and Ginny were already headed around the strange horses and climbing into their carriage, Draco shrugging and following behind while saying, “And I don’t have my Kneazle. But I doubt Loony would leave with them; she’s not mean, just weird.” This earned him a hard smack on the arm from Ginny as he climbed in across from the Gryffindor girls.

True to his word, Luna proved not to be mean as she appeared out of seemingly nowhere with Pigwidgeon and Altais in her arms, and Ron quickly grabbed his bird as she commented sweetly, “Here you are. He’s a sweet little owl, isn’t he?” Ron frowned at her, but shrugged. “Er… yeah… he’s all right.” He said gruffly, backing up towards the carriage. “Well, come on then, let’s get in.” He turned on his heel and climbed up into the musty interior of the carriage, Harry following, and Luna trailing close behind.

Ginny slid to the side in an instant so Ron could plop beside Hermione and Luna squeezed in beside her friend, while Harry sat down beside Draco, Altais springing from Luna’s arms and into his quick in a blur of white fur, causing a couple of them to snort or giggle. Hermione was just lifting her wand to shut the doors when they swung open wide, a firm hand having pushed them open, and all the Gryffindor’s blinked in surprise when they saw the two Slytherin boys standing outside their carriage.

“Hi, Draco…” Goyle said while Crabbe gave a halfhearted wave, and the inhabitants of the carriage slowly turned to face the only other Slytherin inhabitant as his face flushed just a tinge of pink. “Er--Hi? Boys, what’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be pushing through second years for ‘Queen Parkinson?’”

Both boys winced at that, glancing at each other and the kids were left awkwardly exchanging glances as they turned away and pressed their foreheads together briefly, conversing in hushed whispers for a minute before sharply turning back, Crabbe declaring, “She kicked us out!”

Ron scoffed with a, ‘No surprise there,’ look, while Hermione sent him a pointed glare then forced a smile through gritted teeth at Draco. “And I assume you came crawling back to your former boss because of it, did you? Well Draco,” She nodded her head to the two, still forcing that smile, “What are you going to do now?”

Draco went especially pale, blinking between Hermione and his friends for a moment, clearly unsure what she wanted him to say, but decided on his own opinion in the end, clearly, as he cleared his throat, dropped a hand between him and Harry and lightly pushed the boy to the side, using his other hand to gesture the two forward. “Come on in.”

Every Gryfindor but Harry, who was getting pretty exhausted and merely wanted to get to the Great Hall to eat some potatoes now, gaped as the two Slytherin’s grinned thankfully and climbed in, plopping down between Draco and Harry and declaring, “Thanks Malfoy!” in unison, to which the third Slytherin waved a hand as if to say, ‘Don’t mention it.’

They stayed silent after that, everyone in the carriage did, Hermione merely silently shutting the doors of the carriage with a wave of her wand and shaking her head slightly at Draco, to which he shrugged, because no matter what the Gryffindor’s around him said these two were still his friends, and the thought he’d had on the train had made him worry.

He had been mad at them before, it was true. Mad at how they still blindly followed the ideals of their parents, despite how even Draco had nearly died at the hands of Voldemort last year, and he still was mad. But when he saw how they’d looked at him in the train, forcing smiles with the fear that he’d take their father’s from him written in their eyes… Well, he hardly could stay as mad as he had been before, especially when he recognized a fight when he saw one. Crabbe’s fist was tight but he could see the blood on his robes where it lay. Goyle’s chin might be lowered but the purple discoloration was still clear to see. Pansy hadn’t just kicked the two out the carriage; she’d forced them out, in a fight she’d keep on fighting if it meant remaining the tiny crumbs of power she still had over the boys and girls Draco used to control.

Besides, Dumbledore had said they needed unity between houses, right? And right now, he was looking at a carriage full of Gryffindor’s, Slytherin’s, and a Ravenclaw. And he knew the Hufflepuff’s would be the easiest to fall in line. If anything, welcoming his old friends into this awkward ride was the entirely right thing to do, no matter how hard Hermione’s stare across from him might be.

Finally, the carriage slowed to a stop, and the group stumbled out, a cramped, uncomfortable exit to a very uncomfortable ride. But finally, the eight of them were standing outside the carriage, and as Draco and Harry glanced around, the two became horrified to see hundreds upon hundreds of the creepy horses wherever they looked, all drawing the carriages that had never been drawn before, while people bustled about, about, unbeknownst to any changes.

“What the…” Draco muttered while Harry grabbed onto his friends arms, turning them to face the lines of horses and saying, panicked, “There, right there! Can’t you see?”

Ron smacked his forehead while Hermione groaned, but both firmly detached themselves from their friend, saying, “No!” in different tones. Ginny, who was already moving towards the castle with Luna, turned around sharply in surprise to raise her eyebrows at Harry, confused. “See what?”

“The horses, pulling the carriage!” Draco exclaimed and now even Crabbe and Goyle looked confused. More so than usual, at least. “There’s nothing pulling the carriages, Malfoy.” Crabbe mumbled. “They’re always pulling themselves.” Goyle continued, and Hermione nodded. “Yes, what they said.” Though she looked very conflicted about agreeing with him.

Draco and Harry exchanged worried glances, fully ready to believe the two of them had officially gone crazy, when Luna stepped forward with a dazed smile. “It’s alright,” She said in her dreamy voice. “You’re not going mad or anything. I can see them, too.”

“Can you?” Both boys exclaimed, desperate at this point for anyone to prove they weren’t insane. “Oh, yes,” said Luna, blinking and as she did, they noticed the bat-winged horses reflected clearly in her eyes. She could see them. “I’ve been able to see them ever since my first day here. They’ve always pulled the carriages. Don’t worry. You’re just as sane as I am.”

And just like that, she turned on her heel and left, Ginny merely shrugging her shoulders and following her hurriedly, while Ron smirked and patted his friend's shoulder, saying, “Well, guess that settles it, mate.” And walking off while Hermione could only simply force a smile towards the boys, not a single hopeful emotion resting in her eyes.

“In my opinion you’ve always been completely barmy.” Goyle said and Draco snapped around and slapped him on the arm, growling, “Gregory!” though the other Slytherin merely shrugged. “What? He is.” And when the boy's gray eyes shifted to him, Crabbe agreed, “Yeah, and you used to think so too, Malfoy.” He shrugged his shoulders, bumped his friend's shoulder and nodded to the stone steps, then they had turned and disappeared in the crowd as well, leaving the Gryffindor and Slytherin boys to look between themselves and the horrifying invisible creatures.

“Those two…” Draco grumbled and Harry forced him a smile much more comforting than Hermione’s, nodding towards the other half of their Quartet and leading Draco forward, choosing to forget, for the time being, all about those creepy horses, and instead focus on the feast ahead, which his stomach was begging for.

“Who do you think it’ll be?” Ron asked the others as they hiked up the steps, and the three turned to him in confusion. “The new Professor.” He clarified and they all made various ‘oh’ sounds.

“Well, what does he even have to choose from at this point?” Draco pointed out, raising his eyebrows high and beginning to tally off on his fingers, saying, “First it was a psychopath, then we got a celebrity, then a homeless man, and last year was an Auror who really was a Death Eater thinking he had a theater degree.” He waved his hands for emphasis. “Not many options left!”

“He may hire someone already on his staff.” Hermione pointed out, shrugging her shoulders, “Maybe even Snape.” Though she recoiled at the thought and Ron and Harry both groaned. “Then the world is really falling apart.” Harry said and even Draco nodded, “Yes. At this point, it’s become something to expect. Dumbledore’s never giving him that job, even if he’s the most qualified.”

They reached the Entrance Hall which was, as usual, lit with torches and echoing with the hundreds of footsteps of students clicking and clacking across the stone floor, mumbling amongst themselves about anything and everything, all ready to dig into the start-of-term feast. The Quartet headed in with them, not even hesitating when met with the four long house tables, and instead walking right to the Gryffindor table, Draco sparing no glance to the Slytherin’s, who had made it very clear on the train they didn’t want to see him either. Except Crabbe and Goyle who, for even just a fleeting moment, Draco felt bad for leaving behind with Pansy and her gang.

The Quartet found seats between Nearly Headless Nick, Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown, and across from Dean, Seamus, and Neville. All of whom didn’t seem to blink at the presence of Draco, all too used to it after a whole year, but did seem uncomfortable with Harry, eyeing him in a way that made him glare and look pointedly away.

His gaze happened to fall on the staff table and, absent-mindedly, or maybe it was just muscle memory at this point, he searched it for any changes.

“He’s not there.” Ron, Hermione, and Draco turned to face the staff table too, and in an instant they had all come to the conclusion that Harry had; Hagrid was missing.

“He can’t have left,” Ron said, sounding slightly anxious. “Of course he hasn’t,” Harry agreed firmly, mostly because he couldn’t believe anything could make his life right now worse, and Hagrid leaving would have been a very big one. “Draco’s right, nothing can take him out of this school.”

“You don’t think he’s… hurt, or anything, do you?” asked Hermione uneasily, and Harry, still completely unable to believe anything could be wrong, persisted with, “No.” “But where is he, then?”

Draco leaned towards the three, so close no one else could have heard, and whispered, as quietly as he could, "Maybe he's on that mission--you know--the thing Dumbledore has him doing."

Harry nodded instantly, while Ron said, "Yeah… yeah, that'll be it," sounding completely assured, though Hermione was biting her bottom lip and back to eyeing the staff table for changes.

Everyone else scanned it too, but everyone was the same until the very center, right beside Dulbeldore's large golden Headmaster's chair. Here sat a squat woman they couldn't suite see the face of yet, as she was leaned close to Dumbledore's ear and whispering to him, but they could see her short, curly, golden-brown hair with a horrible pink Alice band that matched her fluffy pink cardigan draped over matching pink robes. But once she turned to take a sip from her goblet, Harry flinched, because her face was worse than any bad fashion choice, pallid and stretched, with a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes. She looked, remarkably, in Harry's opinion, like a toad.

"Whose--"Hermione could hardly get out a word before Draco had grabbed Harry's shoulders and gasped, "No!" And the three Gryffindor's turned to face him, confused. "I know her!"

"You do?" Harry and Hermione both exclaimed, and Draco shook his head. "Well I don't know her name, and I couldn't say I’ve really met her, but I have seen her. She works for Fudge."

Ron pushed himself away from the table and craned his neck to look Draco in the eye and clarify, "She's from the Ministry?"

"That certainly wasn't on my DADA Professor Bingo." Parvati pointed out, surprising all of them, and then again they were caught surprised again when Neville said quietly, "She dresses worse than my Grandmother." Which made Ron and Dean both laugh, though Seamus seemed in an awful mood, and only smirked.

Hermione was not amused in the slightest as she leaned towards Draco and asked, in a low voice, "What is she like? What on Earth is she doing here?" But he only shrugged.

"Dunno, like I said, never properly met her. But if the Ministry is sending someone to teach at the school…" He shook his head. "That can't be a good thing, can it?"

"No." Harry agreed, looking darkly over at the toad in pink. "It's definitely not."

The doors burst open, and every head in the hall turned to watch as Professor McGongall led a line of eager, shy, or mesmerized first years forward, carrying a stool with the Sorting Hat sat on top.

The kids lined up in front of the staff table as McGongall set the stool down before them, and the school was left to wait with baited breath as she stepped aside, all eyes boring into the tattered old hat, until the prominent rip at the front of it opened, like a mouth, and it began to sing:

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

The Hat became motionless once more, and, in an instant, applause spread across the crowds of students, though you could hear beneath it whispers and muttering, as every student turned to their neighbors, all discussing the strange change to the Hat's normally playful tune.

"Just to be clear," Harry asked his three friends beside him, "Since I've missed a lot of these, he's never sung like that, has he?"

Hermione and Draco shook their heads. "No, he usually just talks about how Hogwarts was founded. He's never told us how the founders broke apart before." Hermione explained, and Draco suddenly found himself very uncomfortable with the many eyes now turned to the odd one out at the Gryffindor table.

The song had been clear in saying Salazar Slytherin was the catalyst for Hogwarts never being united once more. He hardly blamed them for watching him apprehensively as they did now.

They turned back to the staff table as Professor McGonagall unrolled a long list of names which, Harry noticed, reached the floor this time, which hadn't happened with any classes before.

"Baby boom," Hermione explained when she caught his confused expression. "These kids had to have been born when people felt safe enough after the war to have children."

"Abercrombie, Euan." A severely shaking boy who had only gotten worse by the warnings in the Sorting Hat's song, sat upon the stool and the great Hall waited in silence as the Hat considered for only a moment, before bellowing, "Gryffindor!"

Draco groaned as all the students around him broke into great applause, covering his ears when Fred and George got on their seats to shout and holler.

"I did not think this through." He said aloud and Harry shook his head, patting his shoulder half-heartedly. "No you did not, my Slithery friend."

He was severely regretting his words, however, when "Avery, Yolanda." Got Sorted into Slytherin and Draco started to clap rather obnoxiously next to Harry's ears, stopping only when he was pushed backwards straight into Nearly Headless Nick's ghostly form, causing a truly awful sensation no one liked feeling when going through ghosts.

So the Sorting continued and the students all across the Hall began to get increasingly more restless, not used to the sheer amount of people that encompassed this years First Year, but finally once “Zeller, Rose” was Sorted into Hufflepuff, Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and stool and Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet, and everyone sat in baited silence, awaiting the food that would be appearing on their plates at any moment.

“To our newcomers,” Dumbledore announced in a ringing voice, arms wide, a beaming smile ever present even when all Harry had heard up to this point since he’d last seen him suggested he hadn’t been in a good mood at all lately, “welcome! To our old hands--welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!”

And after a sprinkle of laughter mostly spread by the younger years, everyone brightened at the sight of food suddenly surrounding them, and began serving themselves gratefully.

“Bit strange about that hat, right?” Ron said aloud, reaching straight for the pork chops before Seamus could lift a hand. “Why’s it warning us? It’s a hat, isn’t it?”

“Well, the Hat has been known to give several warnings before,” The group turned in surprise as Nearly Headless Nick spoke up, who, at the sight of their prying eyes, cleared his throat and seemed happy to provide more information. “It has always been at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within.”

“Bit ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?” Nick blinked in surprise at Ron. “I beg your pardon?” The ginger swallowed and leaned forwards, repeating, “But how can it know the school is in danger if it’s a hat?” The Gryffindor House ghost shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “I have no idea. Of course, it lives in Dumbledore’s office, so I daresay it picks things up there.”

“And it wants all the houses to be friends?” Harry asked, looking around at the lines of students casting cautious glares at him and Draco. “Fat chance.”

“Excuse me?” The freshly redeemed Slytherin slapped his arm lightly. “I think we’ve got a pretty good chance at that.” He noticed how the Gryffindor’s surrounding him still looked incredibly perturbed. “Oh come off it! Have you all simply forgotten all I’ve done since befriending Potter here?”

“Yes but you’re one Slytherin,” Ron explained, gesturing to the Slytherin table that was noticeably a lot more deenergized then usually, the first years sat together at one end the only ones making real noise while Pansy attempted to draw her gang in conversation but they kept pouting or glaring over their shoulders at Draco. “I’m not taking chances of getting cursed for life trying to get those prudes all on our side.”

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

“Only because you’re terrified of him,” Ron pointed out, barely beating Draco to saying the same exact thing as he opened his mouth, instead saying, “Yeah, everyone is.” But this proved to be the very wrong thing to do as Nick instantly got highly offended by this. “Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins--”

Here Ron crossed a line, asking, “What blood? Surely you still haven't got--?”

“It’s a figure of speech! I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!”

“Nick, he wasn’t really laughing at you!” Hermione exclaimed, throwing a furious look at Ron, but unfortunately Nick was already rising into the air, straightening his hat before turning and floating away to the other end of the table, leaving Hermione to turn to her friend in anger. “Well done, Ron.” She snapped.

“What?” Ron said indignantly after swallowing another mouthful of food. “I’m not allowed to ask a simple question?” “Oh, forget it,” Hermione said irritably, turning away and finishing her own food in silence, which left Ron looking genuinely hurt as his eyes watched her sadly, before shifting to his food as well and the two remained quiet to each other.

Draco tapped Harry’s shoulder lightly as dessert began, and Harry leaned towards him when he began to speak in a low voice. “I still think we should try to work together, you know,” He began, immediately making Harry groan. “Oh c’mon! Dumbledore said so last year, didn’t he? And now the Hat’s singing about it? It’s a sign and… Oh you must have seen, in the carriage? Gryffindors, Slytherins, and a Ravenclaw all riding together… And Cedric even came to our compartment on the train! Harry… This might be our chance at helping to stop Voldemort, can’t you see?”

Harry didn’t have the heart to tell him he was hoping to fight Voldemrot alongside the Order, and didn’t look forward to having to spend the school year around all those kids who he knew, deep down, didn’t believe him. Though he was mad or a murderer or both, and that wasn’t likely to change soon. But he didn’t say any of that, because how could he, so he instead gave Draco a halfhearted smile, and stayed as silent as Hermione, leaving Draco just as hurt as Ron.

Slowly, people pushed their plates aside and conversations got louder, and when that happened Dumbledore placed his own goblet down and rose to his feet, talking ceasing almost instantly as all eyes turned to their Headmaster, eager for both the speech and bed.

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students--and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.” While the Gryffindor trio smirked here, the fourth member of their Quartet only groaned about ‘what his life was coming to.’ “Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s office door. We have had two changes in staffing this year! We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Dolores Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There was a round of polite but very noticeably unenthusiastic applause as everyone generally knew at this point not to get used to their new teacher, who was bound to be gone in a year just like the others.

Dumbledore continued, “Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the--”

A squeaking of a chair, and a slight tensing to Dumbledore as he looked down slowly at Professor Umbridge, who didn’t at all look like she had stood up, as short as she was, not much taller standing than sitting. Every watched in awe as she cleared her throat with a slight, “Hem, hem,” because no one ever would dream of interrupting Albus Dumbledore, and even the Headmaster looked taken aback himself before nodding and taking a sit, allowing her to slowly step out along the staff table and come to stand before all the students.

While Dumbledore could remain composed throughout all of this, no one else could hide their surprise. Professor Sprout’s eyebrows had gone so high they’d disappeared beneath her bangs, and Professor McGongall’s mouth had tightened to the thinnest of thin lines, while Professor Snape was raising one inquiring eyebrow and Professor Flitwick had frozen with his fork in his mouth, Professor Trelawney having done the same, but dropping hers, the clang of it hitting her plate the only noise made besides that of Professor Umbridge’s heels as the students were even stunned speeches in gaping up at her. Though some, such as Fred and George, were smirking, aware that this new woman clearly had no clue how things worked here at Hogwarts.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Professor Umbridge simpered, “For those kind words of welcome. Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!” She smiled at all the shocked students, mostly disgusted now by the onslaught of ugly pink robes and the high pitched girly voice. It didn’t help now that her smile revealed very pointed teeth. “And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!” Harry couldn’t help but spare a glance around at the students to confirm that they did indeed, bear no smile.

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I’m sure we’ll be very good friends!”

“That’s likely.” The twin’s both said, Lee chuckling and nudging Fred’s shoulder while Parvati whispered over to Lavender, “I’ll be her friend as long as I don’t have to borrow that cardigan,” causing them both to silently giggle.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again (‘hem, hem’) as the mutterings began to spread along the four tables, but this time she didn’t speak entirely breathy and girly, more businesslike with a dull learned-by-heart sound. “The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.”

Professor Umbridge turned and did a little bow to her fellow staff members, who didn’t make any sort of response to her other than confused blinking. Harry couldn’t help but notice Professor McGongall exchanging meaningful looks with Professor Sprout, whose jaw had dropped with the sort of disgust that meant she couldn’t believe the words coming out of the pink woman’s mouth, who, with another ‘hem, hem’ continued.

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

The speech continued, and as it lagged on, repeating itself with the most boring words Harry had ever heard, rivaling even that of the lectures in History of Magic, he and his friends became acutely aware of how the quiet in the Great Hall had become that of tired boredom instant of disgusted awe, and now, it had begun to even break up, which had never happened during one of Dumbledore’s speeches before.

At the far end of the Hall, the Slytherin table the kids had delved into deep whispers between each other, and Pansy Parkinson and moved seats somehow and begun instructing the First Years, who were all watching her, finding her far more interesting than Professor Umbridge, but looked confused by the Fifth Year prefect. Next to them, at the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang had begun chatting animatedly with her friends and, a few seats along from Cho, Luna Lovegood had got out The Quibbler and begun reading. Meanwhile, at the Hufflepuff table, Ernie Macmillan remained stoic with his back straight, trying to focus on Professor Umbridge’s speech, but his chin kept nodding down, as if he was trying not to fall asleep. Cedric Diggory was hardly doing any better, clearly trying to live up to his status as Head Boy but being distracted by the whispering and jokes from his classmates, which he was slowly trying less and less to resist laughing at, judging by the shakiness of his thin lipped stare.

Professor Umbridge, for her part, was committed to whatever she was saying, which Harry had completely tuned out, not caring in the slightest, and had the impression that Draco had stopped listening a long time ago.

But, he had to notice, the Teachers (and even Hermione) remained attentive in listening, though Hermione clearly didn’t like a single word she heard.

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

And with that, at last she took a seat, and Dumbledore instantly began to clap, the staff (some jerking in surprise in their seats) followed suit,though the others, who had been sharing sly glances and watching Professor Umbridge coldly, only clapped once or twice before continuing to glare. The students barely took notice, only coming to realize the speech had ended when Dumbledore stood up again, and a familiar silence fell, almost comfortable compared to the strangeness of ignoring a teacher’s speech.

“Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating. Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held…”

“Yes, it certainly was illuminating,” said Hermione, to which all her three friends around her turned their heads in surprise.

“You’re not telling me you enjoyed it?” Ron said just as quietly, looking quite ready to hit the pillows and pass out from the exhaustion that seemed to cause him. “That was about the dullest speech I’ve ever heard, and I grew up with Percy.”

“I said illuminating, nor enjoyable,” Hermione clarified. “It explained a lot.” She hadn’t turned from her firm stare on Professor Umbridge. “Did it?” said Harry in surprise. “Sounded like a load of waffle to me.”

“There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle.” She said grimly, and Ron asked, “Was there?” rather blankly while Draco leaned closer to her to ask, “What sort of stuff?” sounding worried.

“How about: ‘progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged’? How about: ‘pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited’?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Well, what does that mean?” Asked Ron impatiently, and she finally turned around to look at the three boys, grim and mad. “I’ll tell you what it means. It means the Ministry’s interfering at Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore’s speech ended, and as everyone stood up, Draco stepped closer to Hermione, whispering, “But I thought the Ministry was on our side. Fudge believes us, doesn’t he?” The Granger girl glances over at her two friends and the three exchange knowing looks. “We’ll explain everything later, Draco,” Harry said, nodding at him in what he hoped was a reassuring manner and gesturing towards the Slytherin table, where Pansy was half stood up on her seat, waving like mad. “You better go do your prefect stuff.”

“Right! Ron, we’re supposed to show the first-years where to go!” Hermione exclaimed, grabbing a tight hold of the ginger’s hand and pulling him back as he started to walk for the doors. Draco slowly backed away, giving Harry a knowing smirk. “Oh yeah. Hey--hey, you lot! Midgets!” “Ron!” “Well, they are, they’re tiny…”

Quickly, Draco weaved his way through the crowds of students pushing to get out of the Great Hall, and found himself back at the Slytherin table beside Pansy, frowning down at the naive faces that were, admittedly, very small.

“...And this is prefect Draco Malfoy. Like I said, any problems or questions you may have can be solved by him--or me. Any questions?” The first years all shook their heads, looking very nervous still, so Pansy nodded firmly to the doors and led them away. “Follow me then! Or,” She glanced over at Draco hurrying to walk beside her, a smirk slowly snaking its way onto her face. “Us.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“I’m just as much of a prefect as you are, Pansy.” He reminded her, too annoyed to put very much playfulness into it, but Pansy was clearly prepared to push through with snarkiness. “Well I can’t understand how you could possibly be a Slytherin prefect if you insist on sitting with the Gryffindors." Draco couldn't protest that, instead finding himself opening his mouth than clamping it shut rather quickly like a guppy fish.

"Excuse me?" The two prefects spun their heads around in surprise as a small boy with a freckled pale face raised his hand from the first year clump, pushing himself to the front while asking, "Are we not allowed to sit with any other Houses?"

Pansy sent a glare at Draco as if House discrimination and the breaking down of such discriminations was entirely his fault (though he supposed it mostly was) and he was naturally put on the spot to say, "Er--No. You may sit with whoever you like Mr…" “Lynch. Garrison Lynch.” Draco forced a smile he hoped was comforting and, by the way the boy's eyes quickly lit up, it seemed to do the trick. “You can sit with all the Gryffindors you want, Mr. Lynch.” The boy grinned, then giggled, saying, “Thanks but I actually was talking about a Ravenclaw.”

When Draco turned back to face Pansy, he saw her face had flushed red as a tomato with anger, and instantly felt a rush of triumph he hadn’t felt since his bully days. And it felt good. And it only got better as the kids behind him began to freely talk as their prefects led them down the stairs to the Dungeons, giggling and teasing each other about their out-of-house friends from the train, only a couple worrying about what their parents might say about inter-house frolicking, but being shut down quickly by a bolder Slytherin.

A small part of him could only dream of what his life would be like if he had acted this free at this age, but then again, what friends from outside his own house had he had at the time? Harry had denied the handshake then, and it was only them finally shaking hands that caused the longstanding rivalry to finally crumble. In the end it was Harry, it was always Harry.

With this thought in mind, Draco waved Pansy forwards and backed his way through the crowd, under the pretense of making sure there were no stragglers, which he quickly called out to her in explanation while she rolled her eyes in clear disbelief, which was granted. Really, he was scaling the steps back to the Entrance Hall to scan for any signs of Harry, already feeling the thought of him tug at the corners of his lips, but when his eyes caught sight of familiar jet black hair, he grew saddened rather quickly by the dark expression on the boy's face.

Closely, he watched as the Gryffindor meandered his way through crowds of staring students, but focused on that dark, cold face, rather than sneering glares it passed. He had seen in his eyes on the train only grief and the remnants of the horrors of the graveyard but this…

Harry disappeared into a dark corridor, far from the perring eyes of the kids around him, and Draco caught the brief worried glances of prefects Ron and Hermione, before the former squeezed his friends hand tight and led her forwards up the Gryffindor tower stairs, first years scurrying behind.

This was Harry Potter angry, Draco could nearly feel it, and as he did, turning and descending the rest of the way down to the Dungeons, ducking his head while blending in with the crowd of students filing into the Slytherin Common Room, the thought of his friend being mad angry by those events in the graveyard sent a strange sort of shiver down his spine. Because Harry Potter wasn’t the type to get rageful, but how much does it take, what trauma can be done, that would be enough to push you beyond the point of your conscience saying ‘this isn’t you?’

He left you behind at the Manor, remember? He promised he’d never leave you. You begged him not to leave you, but he did anyway. He’s changed, something in him has changed, admit it.

Draco stepped into the common room, took one look at all the glaring students already waiting in their grandiose sofas and armchairs, and sneered, turning and heading straight off to bed. Sure, Harry could’ve changed, but the way he saw it, Harry was all he had right now. If Harry wasn’t by his side anymore, who would be?

If Harry Potter stays at your side, a knife might just join him at your back.

-*-*-*-

With a bang, Harry slammed the portrait hole door shut after Neville had climbed through, hearing the muffled scoff from the other side as he did so and turning to first see Neville’s look of surprise, before catching sight of the crowd of Gryffindors possibly even waiting for him with apprehensive sneers. Harry gave all these stares no mind though, in no mood to deal with them, instead waving briefly to Fred and George before jogging straight up the stairs to his dormitories, Neville followed right behind.

Dean and Seamus both had already arrived and were setting up the room to be just the way they wanted it, so Harry went to his bed, where his luggage was waiting, and snapped open the large box.

"Hey, Harry," said Dean as he stepped away from pinning the last of his family photographs over the bed and sliding on a pair of pajamas in the West Ham colors. "Good holiday?"

"Not bad," Harry muttered on instinct, even though the clear truth was it was an awful summer that he wished had been half as long as it ended up being due to pure anxious boredom, but he assumed that would've made this night longer if he explained that. "You?"

"Yeah, it was OK," chuckled Dean, though it felt forced and very awkward. "Better than Seamus's, anyway, he was just telling me."

"Why, what happened, Seamus?" Neville asked as he placed his brand new Mimbulus Mimbletonia, which Harry very much didn't want to look at as it only reminded him of an awkward encounter he didn't intend to replicate, beside him on his bedside table.

For a moment it seemed Seamus was ignoring Neville as he continued to straighten his Kenmare Kestrels Quidditch team poster upon the wall between him and Dean, but then Harry took notice of how the poster appeared to be clearly quite straight already, and the Irish boy was clearly merely stalling. At last he said, though he was still 'fixing' the poster, "My mum didn't want me to come back."

"What?" Said Harry, pausing as he pulled his robes up over his head, and Seamus turned now, opening his trunk. "She didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts." He began slipping a pair of pajamas on as Dean was finishing, sitting himself on his own bed awkwardly.

"But--why?" Harry asked, having always considered Hogwarts the safest place on Earth, even after the Tournament last year. He was left to watch Seamus continue to button up, however, as he did not answer until he was completely dressed. "Well," he said in a voice reeking with the clear strain of having to remain calm, "I suppose… because of you."

"What d'you mean?" Said Harry quickly, admittedly a lot more lacking in calm as Seamus, though his heart was beating out of his chest, so he had good reason.

"Well," Seamus repeated, now thoroughly avoiding looking at Harry, and he could see his hands shaking as he pulled back the covers on his bedspread. "She might think your… Not just you, I mean Malfoy came back with the body…"

Everyone in the room went deathly silent and pale, and Seamus froze in his process of fixing up his bed as well, looking horrified by his own words, as if unsure that they were even his, or what had possessed him to say them.

Harry looked down, and saw that his hands were shaking as well. He clenched them to fists, then said slowly, very slowly, "You think… After all that… What Dumbledore said… You think Draco killed Viktor Krum?"

"Mate–" Dean was silenced by Neville's hand on his shoulder.

"No," Seamus raised his head, swallowing, and Harry could see his eyes were almost horrified, now not of his words but of him. "You did it."

As Harry’s shaking hands attempted to place his wand on his bedside table, they let go, the slim piece of wood dropping to the floor with a clatter, and Neville flinching with it just at the end of Harry’s peripheral vision. “Oh really?” The Gryffindor slowly turned to face the other, emerald eyes narrowed to slits. “You think I killed Viktor?”

Seamus’s eyes were wide, purely consumed by horror now.

“Er--Yeah. What else are we supposed to think?”

“We…” Harry growled, scoffing as he threw off his robes and tugged on his pajamas, throwing himself in bed in silence as the others slowly moved around the room to do so as well, all except Seamus, who kept a steady eye on Harry, hands still gripping his blankets tight.

“Well,” Harry finally said, raising his eyes to meet each and every pair around him, all leaned close to hear what he’d have to say in earnest fear. “If that’s what you all think, fine. Got a problem sharing a dorm with me? Think I’ll slit your throats in your sleep? Fine, I’ll move to the couch. But tonight I need to rest. Don’t go crying to mummy that big scary Potter’s gonna murder you in your sleep.” That was maybe a step too far, but the words had already tumbled their way off his tongue, as they so often did these days, and Harry honestly couldn’t see if they were so wrong at all. Seamus had overstepped as well, the whole world had. Maybe they deserved his anger.

But Seamus must’ve been too busy pissing his pants about ‘big scary Potter’ to make a come back, because the whole room when deathly silent, Neville shifting and lying down under his blankets, sneakily blowing his light, the only sound for a few moments, the dimming of the lights just slightly the only change in the tense atmosphere.

“What’s going on?” That is, until Ron could step inside and push through it, maybe even saving Harry’s skin from getting his own throat slit in the night.

“Hey, Ron.” Dean said, that uncomfortably forced smile returning, now morphing to look more like a wince than anything. “We were just… We were er--We were waiting for you.” “To turn the lights out.” Seamus agreed quickly, and Harry had to note the way his whole body slumped with something like relief when turning away from his gaze and instead focusing on Ron. Harry didn’t, though, instead nodding his further agreement to the excuse and shifting onto his side, back turned to his best friend.

“Oh, alright I guess… Harry, are you alright there?”

There was a long silence, so Harry only reached a hand forward to lift his wand off the ground and flick it to snuff out all the lights in the room, then dropped it on his bedside table and shut his eyes, not bothering with his glasses even. He could hear shuffling as the other boys got comfy under their blankets and Ron found his bed in the dark, but other than that everyone stayed silent, and Harry really felt the heavy weight of a long day filled with exhaustion settle on his heart.

He’d been so convinced just hours before, easily allowed to believe by the optimism in those gray eyes he’d missed so much, that unity between houses was going to be possible this year. That he and Draco were evidence that it had been possible. But how was he supposed to convince the school of Voldemort’s return and his own innocence, and get them united? How, when even his own dorm mate, Seamus, whom he had always liked very much, was convinced to the point of being driven to terror that he was a murderer?

And why was it, with all the success with Fudge, Dumbledore still kept the news of Voldemort’s return away? Or was Fudge simply making him keep it behind locked doors? What was the point in sending a Ministry official to teach and meddle at Hogwarts? Was she a spy? But wasn’t Dumbledore spying on Fudge as well, in using Percy? How were the Minister and Headmaster truly getting along in their secret meetings, if they seemed so keen on seeing what the other was doing every second they didn’t have eyes on each other?

These questions dug into Harry’s brain for what felt like hours before fully dragging his eyelids down and his consciousness with them, but it was with great conviction in thinking Dumbledore would no doubt explain this all to him eventually, seeing as how close they had become over last year, that allowed him to drop into deep and much needed sleep with a somewhat clear mind.

Though the nightmares, which he had gotten quite used to at this point, proved there was always something lingering inside that skull.