Foreshadowing the Unexpected

Chapter Four - The Trip to Hogwarts

"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." - William Shakespeare

The following day turned out to be as cold and overcast as the previous day had been warm and sunny. Dark clouds seemed to be gathering for a storm, and so the kids stayed indoors and sprawled in chairs or on the floor of the living room, reading from the many books and magazines that they purchased in Diagon Alley. Every once in a while, one of them would read out some fact or point of interest, but for the most part it was very quiet. Even Rupert had joined them; he was sitting in a corner armchair, looking subdued and tired.

"It says here that a man dressed up like a witch tried out for the Holyhead Harpies this week," Connor said with amusement. He was reading one of the Quidditch magazines he had bought the day before. "He didn't make the team."

The others chuckled appreciatively. The Holyhead Harpies was the only team in the league that only took female players.

Adam and Ian had stayed overnight at their Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron's house, and had yet to return. Connor knew his father had gone in to work, and had spied him carrying Quentin's broom with him when he left, though he didn't mention this fact to his friend. Ginny was in the kitchen making bread "the Muggle way," and seemed to enjoy kneading the dough over and over while she hummed tunelessly. Overall, Connor found it a very pleasant way to spend the day. He could hear the wind chimes that Lucy had made last spring tinkling in the breeze that was stirring up the air outside, and knew that it would probably rain before midday.

"Did you know that the very first Muggleborn witches and wizards had to have the little fingers of their left hand cut off at the first sign of magical ability?" Zack asked, looking up from his book.

"Why would they want to go an do a thing like that?" Connor asked. He looked at the cover of the book that Zack was reading: What Do Purebloods Know?

"Apparently, it was to identify them," Zack said, consulting the book. "They thought that pureblood wizards were stronger than those of 'diluted magical ancestry.' A pureblooded wizard was more highly sought after for employment of any type, and received honours and was given social standings far above those who could not prove that their ancestors had not brought any non-magical blood into their family lines."

"That's nuts!" Connor exclaimed.

"I hope they at least used a severing charm," Rachel said with her usual pragmatism.

"Sorry." Zack grinned. "Had to be done with a stone knife."

"Eew," Ivy said without looking up from her new spell book. "Gross."

They all lapsed into silence again.

The storm finally broke just after lunchtime, with claps of thunder and spears of lightning.

Connor wandered to the window to watch. Only four days left until they would be on their way back to Hogwarts. He was looking forward to it, but knew he was going to miss being home. After the harsh words his father had has with the younger boy the day before, he wondered if Rupert would be going with them. Rupert had been surly when they'd arrived back from Diagon Alley, and had gone to bed early in order to "think about stuff."

It was late afternoon when there was loud crack outside that was not quite like thunder. A few moments later, there was a knock on the front door, and surprisingly, Ivy jumped up to answer it. Ginny came out of the kitchen with a curious expression on her face, while wiping her hands on an apron. Connor jumped up and looked out the front window to see a funny little orange car sitting in the garden, and a wizard with a large square basket in his hands.

Ivy flung the door open, and the wizard tipped his hat and announced, "Delivery for Miss Ivy Longbottom!"

"That's me!" she answered breathlessly.

"Sign here, please, Miss." The wizard presented her with a clipboard. Ivy signed her name on the slip it held and then took the basket with an ecstatic thank you.

The wizard ran back through the rain and got into the little orange car, which was gone an instant later.

Ivy set the basket on the table as everyone watched, and opened a little door in it. She reached inside and cooed, "Hello, precious!" When she pulled her hand back out, she was cradling a black and white fur ball in her hands, that mewed pitifully for a moment, then began to purr when she stroked it gently.

"Oh it's so cute!" Rachel cried, going to Ivy's side at once to see the new arrival.

"Who sent you a kneazle?" Ginny asked, smiling indulgently.

"I fell in love with her yesterday and wrote to my parents right away to ask if I could buy her," Ivy said, eyes glowing with joy. "Dad sent payment in by owl and asked them to deliver her here. Isn't she sweet?"

"I'm allergic to cats," Rupert announced.

"It's not a cat, it's a kneazle," Ivy corrected. "They're much smarter than ordinary cats and live much longer. Don't worry, I'll keep her away from you."

Connor grinned at the puffball, and scratched it's head with one finger, and asked, "What will you name her?"

"Circe," Ivy announced at once. She had evidently given this some thought since yesterday. Circe began to purr very loudly in approval.

"Oh, that's real original," Quentin muttered, but smiled a bit when Circe batted at Ivy's hair with her paw. "My mother has a kneazle. It hates me."

The rain, it seemed, had decided to stay for the next two days, and the kids were basically stuck indoors. Connor's Aunt Susan had come over to help Ginny prepare the little schoolhouse behind the Potter home for the beginning of the term. Pre-Hogwarts magical children would spend the next school year Flooing there daily for basic education. The kids lent a hand, hanging posters and straightening books and such, but they bored of it quickly.

Clive had come on Wednesday afternoon for their final session together and had given Connor a parting gift: a small glass ball about the size of a Snitch, charmed to look as though it contained a bit of the summer sky within, to help him with visualization when he got back to school.

"It's a tool to help with visualization once you get back to school," Clive explained. "You might not always have the opportunity to close your eyes and occlude when you need to. I think your teachers would probably end up thinking you were sleeping through your lessons."

Connor thought it sounded a little silly, but smiled politely, and said "Thanks," before putting it in his pocket.

Lucy, Prue and Gwen came over on Thursday when Hermione Flooed over to say that she had an appointment. Ian and Adam joined them in a game of hide and seek that had them all trying to squeeze into bizarre places around the house. Ginny chased more than one of them out of the cabinet of the huge grandfather clock in the parlour.

After she found Gwen and Adam tied up back to back in the pantry, Ginny called a halt to whatever game it was that had caused clothesline to become necessary, then set them all to rolling out cookie dough and cutting it out into the shapes of unicorns, lions, broomsticks and cauldrons.

Rupert remained quiet and moody, but finally let Quentin try to teach him how to play chess. Connor and Ivy set up a board next to theirs, and played their own game, while keeping an eye on how well Rupert was doing. He actually caught on very quickly, much to their surprise, and seemed to enjoy the challenge. Rachel and Zack seemed to content to spend the days before school trying to read as much of their textbooks as possible.

On Friday, the sun came out again, and all of the kids went outdoors to stretch their legs after being cooped up. Connor wanted to ride broomsticks, but his father had left for work without returning the ones he had been working on, and his mum refused to let them go into the basement to retrieve them.

"Merlin knows what your Dad's done to those broomsticks!" she told them. "There's no way I'm letting any of you near them until I'm sure they're safe!"

Instead, they ended up taking a long walk over the fields and along the stream where they had spent the day before. Rupert said that he didn't want to go, and had apparently not made the mistake of complaining again, since he was not doing any chores when they returned.

By dinnertime, Rupert was looking ill tempered again, and refused to join into any type of conversation around the table during the meal. It wasn't until he finished eating and left the table without a word to anyone that Harry shed light on the mood change.

"Rupert wrote home to ask his father if he could have an owl," he explained. "He didn't get the answer he was hoping for. His father also told him that he couldn't come home before term started unless he was planning on staying home."

"He wanted to go home?" Ivy asked with a pitying look. She was trying to hide the fact that she was feeding scraps of her chicken off her plate to the kitten in her lap, but no one was fooled.

"I think he's a bit homesick," Ginny said sympathetically. "He wanted to go and talk to them and tell them about things before he left for Hogwarts. Try to get them to understand."

"And they said no?" Zack asked, appalled.

"I'm afraid so," Harry replied sadly. "Dudley was raised his whole life being taught to hate anything magical, and now he isn't sure how to feel about his own son. They said that they would see him at Christmas, and that hopefully he will have come to his senses by then."

"That's pretty harsh," Quentin commented. "I mean, I don't like him much, but his own family treating him like that? That just seems wrong."

"Still," Rachel said, "they are letting him go to Hogwarts, and they did pay for his school things. Maybe when he can actually prove to them that he's learning worthwhile stuff, they'll be easier with him about it."

"Maybe," Harry answered.

Connor did not think that his dad sounded convinced.

Saturday was a flurry of activity at the Potter house. They would be leaving for Hogwarts in the morning, and there was a lot to be done: Ginny was doing load after load of laundry, making sure that all of the kids had everything that they needed; Dobby split his day between baking snacks for the kids to take on the train and ironing and folding robes for six children. Connor saw his mother rescuing Dobby from Ian's room twice, where Rupert was trying to get the elf to do all of his packing for him.

Rupert was angry that he was going to be forced to leave a large portion of his belongings behind to make room in his trunk for his school supplies. Connor gave him a box to pack the things that would not fit into his trunk, and told him that his parents would see that it was all sent back to his house. Rupert had snatched the box from Connor and snarled at him before slamming the bedroom door in his face.

"The sooner we get to Hogwarts, the better," Connor murmured darkly to the empty hallway. "Another couple of days with him, and I'd be on my way to Azkaban!"

Everyone gathered all of their books from around the house, and made sure that the homework they had all done over the summer was in their trunks. Connor double and triple-checked to make sure that he had the Marauders' Map safely hidden in his History of Magic textbook and dumped his supply of sweets into his cauldron for safe-keeping. Zack cleaned out Godric's cage as the owl sat perched regally on the rail of the bunk bed and watched him as though supervising the activity. Ivy had been keeping her new kitten in the pocket of her robes, and every time Rupert sneezed, he would glare at her accusingly. Circe was content to stay hidden away. Ginny had rescued the kitten once from a fiercely growling Snowball, and Connor shuddered to think what the mutant Puffskein might have done to the tiny kitten without the timely intervention. He was frankly surprised that Snowball hadn't eaten Adam's other Puffskeins already, and thought that it was probably just a matter of time.

Connor was relieved when his father arrived home that evening just in time for dinner. Quentin had been fretting over his broomstick for the past few hours and wanted to know if he would need a new one for the coming year.

"Harry, for Merlin's sake!" Ginny scolded him. "Give the poor kids their brooms back!"

Harry had gone down to the basement and returned with everyone's broomsticks, and Quentin was weak with relief to see that his looked identical to the way it had when he had last seen it.

"Wait a minute," Ivy said, grabbing the handle of the Windblazer. "What's this?"

She pointed to the silver inlaid lettering that spelled out the name of the broom, and Quentin noticed that there was additional lettering below it. "Improved by the makers of Dog Star," he read aloud.

"You'll love it," Harry grinned excitedly. "Just be careful the first time you take her up."

"What did you do?" Ginny asked with narrowed eyes.

"Just improved it a bit," Harry said innocently. "Much more responsive now. Ivy's and Zack's too."

Quentin looked uncertainly at his broom, but went to pack it away in his trunk; there was no time to test it before they got to Hogwarts. Ivy and Zack simply grinned at each other and followed him up the stairs.

Dinner was a noisy affair. Everyone seemed to have something to say, knowing that this would be their last real chance to talk over a meal like this for a few months. Topics ranged from the little school that Ginny ran with Percy's wife in the building behind the Potters' house, to whether or not Professor Snape had shaved off his sinister-looking goatee yet. Rupert sat through the meal looking grumpy and added very little to the conversation, except to say inane things like "pass the salt", and "please" when everyone stopped to stare at him. They all made an early night of it, knowing that the next day would be a long and busy one.

Connor was climbing the stairs with his arms full of freshly matched socks and a few last minute items he needed to pack when he heard his father talking to Rupert.

"Have you decided if you're going to go to school with the others, or if you're going home?" he heard his father ask the other boy.

"I'm going to school," came Rupert's answer, sounding a bit defiant and sullen at the same time.

"Good," Harry replied. "I think it will do you some good."

Connor stood aside to let his father pass him on the stairs, smiling as his dad winked at him.

In his room, Connor dumped his socks and other things in his trunk, leaving out a fresh change of Muggle clothes for the morning. Zack had finished packing for the most part and was sprawled on his bed in his pyjamas, reading Connor's copy of Quidditch Monthly. Quentin had stayed downstairs to Floo his parents, in case he missed them tomorrow before getting on the train.

"Looks like Rupert's decided to give Hogwarts a try," Connor told Zack, sitting down on Quentin's bed so that he could see him properly.

Zack's hair, tied back in a leather strip, was long once more -- Ivy and Rachel had finally convinced him to let them use their prank potion on him. Connor had been treated to a momentary display of Zack with long, cherry-red corkscrew curls cascading down his back before Zack, groaning with horror, had gone to wash with the antidote shampoo. The curls had gone, but the long hair remained. Connor could see how this potion had become so popular with girls at Hogwarts -- you could wear short hair one day and long hair the next.

"I knew he would," Zack said, sitting up and abandoning the magazine. "There's just no way he could see everything he's seen over the past week and not want to know. I had hardly seen a hint of what he's seen before I knew, and I couldn't wait to try some if for myself."

"No offence," Connor said, nodding at Zack's observation, "but I couldn't imagine ever having to live like a Muggle. I don't know how they cope without magic at all."

Quentin came in then, and began to change into his pyjamas, yawning. "I can't believe the summer is over already," he said.

Connor got up from his bed and began to change as well. He had just climbed into his own bed when there was a soft knock on the door, and his mum poked her head in.

"All right, boys?" she asked quietly.

"All right, Mum," Connor answered.

"I just came from talking to the girls, and I wanted to talk to you for a minute as well," she said, coming in and standing at the foot of their beds.

"What's up?" Connor asked.

"I just wanted to say that I know that having Rupert here and having us ask you to include him wasn't exactly how you pictured your last week of summer," she said. "And I wanted to say thank you to all of you for making the effort. I know it wasn't very easy."

"That's okay, Mrs Potter," Zack said from his top bunk.

Quentin and Connor nodded in agreement. It was hard to be cross with Ginny, when she always seemed to be going out of her way to be nice and to give them space to be themselves together.

"You guys are pretty great," she told them fondly. "And Mr Potter and I wanted to reward you for your efforts."

She held out her hands, and passed each of them a small black box. When they each opened the hinged lid, they all grinned to see cloak pins inside-- a red enamelled shield, with a gold Gryffindor lion on the front. They weren't especially fancy or expensive, but they were very nice. With each of them having one, it was kind of like belonging to their own little club.

"Thank you, Mrs Potter," Zack and Quentin said together.

"Thanks, Mum," Connor said happily.

"You all have shown a real Gryffindor attitude this summer," she answered. "You deserve it. Lights out now."

She turned out the lights on her way out of the room, and the boys lay in the dark for a while before Quentin said into the darkness, "Connor?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm in love with your Mum." He laughed when Connor hit him in the face with his pillow, and they all said good night to each other with amusement in their voices.

The next morning, Connor woke up feeling as if he hadn't slept at all. He had not had an easy time of falling asleep, and he guessed it was excitement that had kept him awake. Tonight they would be back at Hogwarts, in their familiar dorm room, and they would see all of their friends again. He would get to use his wand again! That was definitely the best part. A glance at his bedside clock told him that it was already nine o'clock. His heart jumped into overtime. How had it gotten to be so late? A quick look told him that Quentin and Zack were already awake and dressed, so Connor stumbled quickly from his bed and was grateful to find the bathroom empty. He showered, the hot water helping to wake him up a bit.

When he got back to his room, he found that his trunk, as well as his friends' trunks and Godric and his cage, had all been taken from the room. Connor's clothes were laid out on his bed, so he quickly dressed and bounded down the stairs.

Rachel and Ivy were sitting at the bottom of the steps, teasing Circe with a length of string, and he bid them good morning before squeezing past them into the kitchen. Rupert was not at the table, but everyone else was. Connor stopped at the stove to scoop up a bowl of porridge and drowned it with a liberal amount of honey before carrying it to the table and sitting next to his father.

"Finally decided to join the land of the living, eh?" his father teased.

"Why didn't anyone wake me?" he complained, taking a huge bite.

"Both Zack and me tried," Quentin said from across the table. "You wouldn't budge."

"You're lucky you got up when you did," his dad replied. "Your Mum was about to let Adam wake you."

"Lucky me," Connor said. Adam probably would have done the deed with freezing cold water or, worse, by shoving that Puffskein up his pyjamas leg.

"Mr Potter," Quentin asked, finishing his breakfast, "how are we getting to King's Cross?"

"I've got a car," Harry replied.

"Isn't it about an hour from here to London?" Quentin asked, sounding concerned.

"If we were driving the whole way," Harry said enigmatically, rising from the table. "I'd better go light a fire under Rupert; we need to leave here in the next fifteen minutes."

"But," Quentin stammered after his retreating figure as it bounded up the stairs.

"Don't worry," Connor said. "We won't be late."

He scooped the last of his porridge from his bowl and then took his bowl to the sink.

"Dad wouldn't let you miss the train," Lucy told them, seeing a strange look pass between Quentin and Zack.

A couple of minutes later, everyone in the kitchen heard a shout of "Hey!" from Rupert at the top of the stairs. A moment later, Connor saw his dad levitating Rupert's trunk ahead of him down the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Rupert, but you've had plenty of time to pack," Harry said over his shoulder, to the blonde boy following angrily behind him. Rupert was holding some sort of strange shiny case in his hands, about the size of a small book. "Yours is the last trunk to be put in the car, and we're leaving in less than five minutes. I told you that thing wouldn't work at Hogwarts, anyway."

"He's right," Zack said to Rupert. "CDs won't play there; there's too much magical interference."

"Come on, kids!" Ginny called from the back door of the house. "We've got to get going!"

Ivy quickly slipped Circe into her basket, Zack grabbed Godric's cage from the corner, as everyone else scrambled around for jackets and satchels before hurrying out the door. Connor led his friends to a garage beside the schoolhouse that looked more like a shed, where a large vintage saloon car was parked. He looked over at Quentin and saw that the other boy looked doubtful.

"Okay, everyone. This thing is charmed to be bigger on the inside, so don't worry," Harry told them. "It's also currently a great big portkey. Once we get in, I'll trigger it, and we'll be taken to a cark park a few miles from King's Cross, and we'll drive from there."

Zack, Ivy and Quentin thanked Ginny for her hospitality and received hugs and kisses before climbing into the back seat of the car. Rupert simply said, "Good bye, then," and climbed into the passenger side of the front seat. Lucy, Ian and Adam hugged Connor, and Connor reminded the twins that hey would be making the trip with him next year. Ginny hugged him extra tightly and slipped a little pouch full of change into his pocket while Harry was busy with the car.

"Promise to be good," She told him, her eyes looking moist. "And write when you get a chance!"

"I promise, Mum," Connor said, red-faced but pleased. He climbed into the car with his friends who were all seated comfortably side by side.

They waved one last time at the Potters who were staying behind, and then Harry announced, "I'm going to trigger the Portkey now. It may feel a bit strange if you've never travelled this way before, but you'll be fine. One, two, three!" He pressed his hand into the centre of the steering wheel, and as the horn sounded, and Connor felt a strange jerk in the pit of his stomach before vanishing.

When they reappeared, Connor heard the sound of the tires making contact with pavement with a loud, barking screech as the car stopped spinning. Rupert immediately opened the passenger door and was promptly sick all over the car park where they had landed. Fortunately, there were no other people around, wizard or Muggle, to witness their arrival. Connor saw that his friends looked slightly green, but was relatively sure that it was not because of the Portkey, but because of the sound of violent retching from the front seat.

"Sorry about that," Harry apologized cheerfully as Rupert straightened.

Harry conjured a glass of water for the sick boy, and Rupert took it and rinsed his mouth before shutting the door. He made no comment about this mode of travel, but Connor could see that his jaw was clenched tightly. Harry quickly stepped from the car with his wand to clean up the mess, and erased the rubber skid marks that formed a circle around the car from their arrival. Once Harry got in and started the car, Zack was shaking his head in amusement and soothing Godric, who appeared to have disliked the Portkey experience.

They drove out of the deserted car park and were on their way. The drive only took about ten minutes, but parking was something of a chore, even with the way the car jumped to the head of any line of waiting traffic. It was half past ten by the time they were pushing their trolleys through the train station, and Connor saw that there were a few other Hogwarts students hurrying along toward the gateway to platform 9 ¾. They waited for a few other people to casually make their way through, and then Harry told Ivy and Zack to go through together, then Rachel and Quentin, and finally Connor.

Connor took the barrier at a slight run, and once on the other side of the barrier, saw that Ivy's parents had turned up to see her off on the train. Quentin was waving over at his parents, who were seeing Vanessa up into a railcar. Rachel had gone over to a large group of Weasleys, including her parents, to say her goodbyes.

Zack and Connor waited close to the barrier for Rupert and Harry. It was a few minutes before they actually came through, and Connor was considering going back to check on them. Zack pointed to them when they did come through, and Connor tried hard not to laugh to see his Dad pushing Rupert's trolley, and dragging Rupert by the collar of his shirt. Rupert himself was making a terrified mewling sound while covering his eyes with chubby hands. Connor grinned at his father, who looked both amused and exasperated as he shook his charge and told him it was safe to open his eyes.

"What took so long?" Connor asked, stepping close to his father so that Quentin wouldn't overhear. "Did it take that long to convince him he wouldn't crash into the barrier?"

"No," Harry answered quietly. "His brother Kyle turned up to see him off, actually."

"But not his parents?" Connor suddenly felt bad for Rupert.

"No," Harry said. "But that's probably for the best. I think that Kyle really cares about his brother, and wants him to do well, though, so at least he had some support from home."

Connor nodded thoughtfully at this, and scratched absently at his hands.

"Have Madam Cosgrove have a look at those when you get to school," Harry ordered, noticing the action. "It's been over a week since that started, and your Mum's worried."

Connor agreed to go to see the matron at Hogwarts, and then they were in the middle of a large group of Weasleys, and there was a flurry of hugs, kisses, handshakes and tears as the adults swept the kids up and onto the train. Connor smiled with his father slipped him a few coins and whispered, "Don't tell your Mum," before winking and stepping back away from the train, whose whistle was blowing a warning. His moneybag certainly hadn't suffered this summer; that was for sure!

Dragging his trunk along behind him, Connor followed behind Ivy as they looked for a compartment they would all fit in. They had to keep stopping so that the people ahead of them could enter compartments along the way, and Connor could hear other kids greeting each other in the cramped space. He thought he heard his cousin Patrick say, "Don't even think about it." When Connor moved down the isle, he could see that Patrick and Maggie were sitting in a compartment with some of the kids from his Mum's school who were also going to be first years this term. He nodded to them and was relieved when Rachel called over her shoulder. "Here's an empty one!"

He followed his friends in, being the last in line. Once inside, he was not pleased to find that Rupert had also followed them in, but said nothing. "Your cousins wouldn't let him in their compartment," Zack murmured as he helped Connor lift his trunk to the overhead rack.

Connor sighed quietly and took a seat between Rupert and Rachel, and across from his other friends.

The train began to move with a small lurch, and the chugging of pistons and the hissing release of steam from various valves signalled their departure. They waved out the windows of their compartment on the off-chance that their loved ones could spot them amongst the hundreds of other kids, then settled back in their seats.

"Couldn't you move over a bit?" Rupert complained almost at once. "It's too crowded in here. Do you have to take up so much space?"

Connor bit down on his tongue to keep from snapping at the other boy that there was an obvious way to make more room; Rupert could leave.

"Sorry, no," Connor said.

"Stupid way to travel, the train," Rupert commented peevishly. "I mean, if Mr Potter could make his car pop all the way to London, why couldn't he just have it pop us to Hogwarts, wherever that is? Why make us endure nine hours in a scarlet tin can on rails?"

"Look," Zack said, at his wits end. "In case you haven't noticed, you're the only one with a problem here. If you don't like how crowded it is, you're free to find another compartment, okay? We all happen to like riding the train."

"Well, then you're mad," Rupert countered.

"You haven't seemed to realize yet," Quentin pointed out, obviously irritated as well, "there aren't any adults here to make us put up with you. If you can't find anything nice to talk about, then I suggest you don't talk at all."

Rupert let those words sink in for a moment, and then turned his head to look out of the window at the countryside they were passing through.

It was only a few minutes before the door to the compartment opened, and a couple of other Gryffindors peaked in to say hello. They looked curiously at Rupert, but no one wanted to introduce him for fear that he would be unspeakably rude to their friends. It went on like that every few minutes for the first hour, and Rupert began to sulk.

"You lot seem quite popular," he observed grudgingly.

"Oh," Ivy said, "I don't think it's that we're popular so much as it's like seeing family again. When you share living space with a group of people for a couple of years, it gets to be like that."

"We're all going to be living together in the same space?" Rupert sounded absolutely appalled by the idea.

"Well not exactly," she explained. "All first year students are divided into different houses. There are four houses, and which one you go into depends on your personality."

"Where are these houses located, and who decides which one you live in?" Rupert asked.

"Well they aren't literal houses," Rachel said. "They're more like dormitories with a large common room. You'll share a dorm room with other boys from your year. The different houses are in different parts of the castle..."

"Castle?" Rupert sounded disbelieving.

Connor looked at the others with sympathy as they all tried to explain the inner workings of the Hogwarts houses and points system. Rupert was outraged that he would have to share his living quarters with more than one other boy. He said that if he were at Smeltings, he would only have had to share with one other person. Zack told him that maybe he should have gone to Smeltings, then, shouldn't he?

Connor didn't join in with the explanations, because he was beginning to get a headache. He knew that it was the result of being around so many different people, and he hadn't had time to practice his Occlumency that morning before leaving. He was about to tune out for a few minutes and try to clear his mind, and wondered if he should dig out the little glass ball that Clive had given him at their last meeting to help him focus. He decided against it, for the simple fact that he didn't want to drag his trunk down to look for it.

"I'm going to the loo before the lunch trolley comes," Quentin announced, standing up.

He slid the compartment door open, and Connor lunged forward and grabbed the back of his friend's jumper to prevent him from stepping into the corridor.

Just as Quentin stepped backward out of reflex, two spells met in midair, right at his eye level, and caused a small explosion of sparks in every direction. There were giggles coming from other compartments, and when Quentin poked his head out with a scowl, someone called, "Oops! Sorry!"

"Thanks, Con," Quentin said. "That was close."

Connor nodded and rubbed at his temples to ease some of the pain that was beginning to build.

Quentin left the compartment, and Rupert said, "How did you know that was going to happen? You just kept him getting hit my those lights!"

"They were spells," Connor murmured absently, eyes closed. "Sometimes I just know stuff."

"Like what?" Rupert demanded.

Connor groaned inwardly at the excitement in the other boy's voice. "Just random stuff," he said evasively.

"Can I learn to do that? To predict when things are going to happen?" Rupert asked eagerly.

"Sorry," Connor replied, shaking his head. "It's not something anyone can learn."

"But then how come you know how to do it?"

"I don't know how to do it. Either stuff comes to me or it doesn't. That's why I was having extra lessons; so I could block it out." Connor explained. He desperately needed to focus.

"Why would you want to block it out?"

"Look," Connor said. "I've got a pretty big headache right now, and I just need to be quiet for a few minutes, okay?"

"Is it all the people?" Rachel asked in concern.

"I think so," Connor agreed. "Too much...mental noise around me, I guess. I just need to clear my mind for a few minutes and it will sort itself out."

She nodded, and Ivy and Zack both picked up books from their bags to occupy themselves quietly. Rupert looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but Rachel glared at him, and he turned to look out the window again.

Connor kept his eyes closed, and visualized a clear blue sky, just as Clive had taught him, and soon the buzzing in his head died down, and then disappeared. By the time he allowed the outside world to filter back in, the blue sky of his inner vision was laced liberally with many clouds; a manifestation of the distractions he was trying to keep at bay. He sighed with relief as he opened his eyes, thinking everything seemed much more peaceful now. His hands didn't even itch anymore, and he was feeling very hungry. He was surprised to see that Quentin had returned while he had been meditating, and that everyone was quietly eating Cauldron Cakes.

"How long was I out of it?" he asked, making Ivy jump.

"About a half an hour," Zack told him, handing him a cauldron cake as well. "I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep."

"Nope," Connor said, taking a bite. "Just putting my head back in order."

"So you can predict the future?" Rupert asked, as if he had just been waiting for Connor to wake up. "Can you tell who's going to win races or games?"

"Not usually," Connor said. "It doesn't really work like that."

"Can you tell me what colour socks I'm wearing right now?"

Connor bent down to tug up Rupert's pant leg and answered, "Black."

Ivy giggled.

"That's not what I meant," Rupert protested.

"You know, Rupert," Rachel said. "You want to be careful. If any of the professors catch you pestering Connor for predictions, you could get into big trouble."

"Why?" Rupert asked.

"Because for one thing, it's wrong to cheat," Connor said. "Almost everyone who's asked me to 'see' something for them wanted it for gambling. For another, if I could predict the future the way people have been asking me to, I'd never have time to do anything else. I'm not some fortune teller who can just reel off future facts for amusement and profit. Last year when the students found out about me, I even had a couple of close calls, where I was threatened if I didn't tell them what they wanted to know."

"Which is just ridiculous," Rachel added. "It's not like anyone could beat a prediction out of him, either. Anyway, if you get caught, if a huge loss of house points and a very long detention."

"Well, we're not at school yet," Rupert countered. "So I can't get in trouble yet, can I?"

Connor sighed. It looked like it was going to be a long train ride. He finished his Cauldron Cake, and accepted a bottle of pumpkin juice and one of Dobby's famous raspberry tarts from Quentin, who seemed to have a veritable feast packed in his satchel.

"So if you wanted to make a prediction on purpose," Rupert pressed, "what would you do? Would you look into a crystal ball, or go into a trance, or --"

"I'm not going to make any predictions on purpose!" Connor finally snapped angrily. He didn't understand how anyone could be as thick as Rupert was being about this subject. "Even if I could, I wouldn't want to, okay? I don't know what colour underwear you've got on, I don't know when the last of your baby teeth are going to fall out, and I don't know OR CARE if the Chudley Cannons will make it to the finals!"

"Fine!" Rupert snapped back, just as angrily. "I should have known you wouldn't want to help me! No one wants to help me!" With that extraordinary pronouncement, Rupert threw open the door, and stalked out into the corridor.

"Good riddance!" Zack said with satisfaction. "That's telling him!"

"Yeah," Connor agreed quietly. He was suddenly feeling guilty about losing his temper; especially after what his mother had said last night about being proud of him.

Rupert did not come back to the compartment, and the rest of the journey was spent in relative peace. Circe seemed to have taken a particular liking to Quentin and sat curled up on his thigh, purring contentedly in her sleep while Quentin read that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet, bought from the witch with the lunch trolley. Rachel had moved to the window seat that Rupert had vacated, and was playing a game of exploding snap with Ivy and Zack. Connor, on the other hand, closed his eyes and was soon catching up on the sleep his missed out on the night before.

"Hey, Connor!"

Connor woke with a jolt to see Zack shaking his knee lightly.

"We're almost to Hogwarts, the girls have gone to get changed," Quentin told him. "It'll only be about a half an hour, I'd reckon."

"I must have been sleepier than I thought," Connor yawned. He fished around in his trunk for his robes, and slipped them on. His stomach rumbled as he sat back down, and he looked forward to the feast.

"I wonder where Rupert spent the rest of the ride," Connor said as the girls rejoined them.

"We saw him in a compartment with some other first years," Ivy answered, making sure Circe was secure in her basket. "An unpleasant looking lot of boys."

"At least he wasn't in here pestering us," Rachel said. "It'll be a nightmare if he gets sorted into Gryffindor. Not that that's likely to happen."

"Oh, I don't know," Quentin said thoughtfully. "He's not very nice, but it did take a lot of bravery to come here and all. Remember how horrid Andrew Tillman was last year? He's a Gryffindor, and we didn't like him, either."

"Yes," Ivy agreed. "But Andrew turned out to be all right. He was just being a prat because his father was so ill, and he didn't know how to handle it."

"Maybe Rupert's been acting horrible because of his father," Quentin suggested logically.

"Do you want him to be sorted into Gryffindor?" Zack asked.

"Of course not," Quentin answered at once. "I'm just saying that it's not totally impossible."

"What about Patrick and Maggie?" Connor asked Rachel. "Do you think they'll make Gryffindor?"

"I don't see why not. Maggie's parents were both Gryffindors and so was Uncle George. Aunt Zoë went to a private witch's school in Wales that didn't have houses, but you'd have to be brave to be married to Uncle George."

"Or crazy," Connor said, waggling his eyebrows.

The train was coming to a stop now, and the lights from Hogsmeade could be seen in the distance through their window. It was dark outside. Connor grabbed his cloak out of his trunk when he felt a blast of cold air as the train doors were opened. The others did the same, and all of them smiled at each other to see their new cloak pins in place.

"We look like some sort of secret society," Rachel observed with a chuckle.

They shifted out of their compartment, Ivy holding Circe's basket in front of her, and Zack holding Godric's cage while the owl protested loudly. As soon as they stepped down onto the platform, Zack Godric free to fly to the Owlery.

"I think he missed Hogwarts as much as we did," Zack said as he watched his owl disappear into the darkness.

The call for first year students could be heard from Professor Grubbly-Plank, who would lead them for their traditional boat ride across the lake. Connor vividly remembered his own inaugural ride; it had poured, and his boat had sprung a leak, soaking everyone even more. His shoes had squelched unpleasantly for days. At least it would be pleasant tonight --Rupert would have been complaining loudly about it for weeks.

Connor followed his friends to the line of carriages that would take them up to the castle, and cautiously reached his hand out to gently pat the invisible thestral he knew to be there between the carriage shafts.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Rachel complained. "It's creepy."

Connor just shrugged and climbed into the carriage. It was a bumpy ride, and the road seemed to have quite a few more potholes than he remembered from the previous year, but no one was complaining. Hogwarts came into view a couple of minutes after the carriages began to move in a line toward the castle, and they all looked out at it eagerly. They passed the gates, moved up to the castle, and joined the crowd of students headed for the massive oak doors that were opened wide in welcome.

"Well if it isn't little Leo and his band of merry men," came the voice they all knew only too well. Vanessa Malfoy stood with a group of Slytherin girls, looking disdainfully at her brother and his friends.

"Leave us alone, Vanessa," Quentin muttered.

Fortunately, Professor Thompson was standing by the doors, supervising the mass exodus from the carriages from the higher vantage point atop the steps.

"Keep moving," he ordered mildly.

Vanessa and her group strolled casually away after a final sneer, and Connor and the others made sure they were far enough behind them that they wouldn't meet again before they got to the Great Hall. They placed Circe in her basket and Godric's empty cage in the section of the Entrance Hall where everyone else had placed their pets, then hurried into the Great Hall to get seats that faced the centre of the room, wanting the best possible view for the Sorting, and to see if anyone had really changed dramatically over the summer. Connor spotted Professor Lupin at the high table, and waved at him. Remus Lupin was Connor's honorary uncle, and Connor was happy to see him looking well and healthy so soon after a full moon.

The room was noisy and chaotic for a few minutes while everyone greeted those people they hadn't seen on the train. It settled down when Professor Thompson opened the doors to the Great Hall once again and led a line of frightened-looking first-years down the centre of the room, toward the high table. The kids were looking around them and up at the enchanted ceiling, whispering to each other in nervous and excited voices as they approached the head of the room. Professor Thompson bid them all to gather around, and face the other students, which they did, looking absolutely green.

Connor remembered that feeling well. He could effortlessly pick out Rupert from the crowd; he was easily the biggest first year in the group. He was also the unhappiest looking. Had something gone wrong already? Connor wondered what could possibly have happened between the times that they left the train until now.

Professor Thompson placed the Sorting Hat and its stool in front of the students, who stared at it expectantly. It twitched, and then a rip near the brim opened wide. The hat began to sing, and Connor watched all of the new students' faces glow with awe as the Hat sang its song. When the song finished, the hat bowed to each of the tables then fell limp.

"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat," said Professor Thompson after the applause had died down. "I will then call out your new house. Armstrong, Betsy!"

A small girl with long, dark plaits stepped nervously forward and put the hat on, squeaking nervously when in fell down around her eyes. The hat was silent for a moment, then called out, "Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers, and Betsy Armstrong took a seat there and was greeted warmly, even as the next name was called.

"Atkins, Stacy!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Barker, Michael!"

"Gryffindor!"

Connor clapped loudly with his housemates as a small boy with unnaturally white teeth joined their table, looking relieved.

"Boot, Diana!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Burns, Willem!"

"Slytherin!"

The list went on, with each house applauding their newest members. When Rupert's name was called, Connor stilled and listened carefully.

"Dursley, Rupert!"

The hat took only a few seconds to decide.

"Slytherin!"

Connor let out his breath with a whoosh. It was no surprise, really, that Rupert had been chosen for Slytherin. The only real obstacle was that Slytherins tended to pride purebloods over Muggleborns, but that was not a hard and fast rule, considering how few purebloods there were these days. His friends all clapped loudly at the announcement of Slytherin's newest member, earning them strange looks from the others, but they didn't care. They were celebrating the fact that he was someone else's problem now.

The list went on, and Connor heard Zack's stomach grumbling beside him. Finally the list came down to the last four students.

"Waters, Lara!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Weasley, Magnolia!"

"Magnolia?" Quentin asked with a raised eyebrow.

Maggie sat calmly on the stool and set the hat over her glossy brown curls. The hat seemed to be debating something for a while, as it had with a few of the other students, and finally made its choice.

"Hufflepuff!"

Connor was shocked for a moment and stared at the other Weasleys down the table, who all looked surprised for a moment before applauding loudly for her in support. She pulled the hat off of her head and grinned at them all before taking her place at the Hufflepuff table.

"Weasley, Patrick!"

Patrick stepped forward, looking much less confident now that Maggie had been sorted into a different house than he had supposed she would. The only other Weasleys not to go into Gryffindor before now had been Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill's kids. Sarah had left school the previous year, but Marcus was a fifth year Ravenclaw prefect this term. Patrick put the hat on his head and waited, shoulders stiff, and back poker-straight.

"Gryffindor!"

The hat had not needed much time to decide Patrick's fate, which Connor thought was a good thing, as Patrick looked as though he might faint with relief. He put the hat back on the stool and joined the Gryffindors to tumultuous applause, mainly from his own cousins.

"And last, but not least, Xanatos, Xerxes!"

"You've got to be joking!" one of the older Gryffindors muttered. "What an awful name to hang on your kid!"

"Slytherin!"

The hat made its final pronouncement and was carried away with the stool by Professor Thompson as Xerxes joined the Slytherin table.

Connor had been counting the newest students. Slytherin had gained fifteen new students, the fewest of all of the houses, with six girls and nine boys. Ravenclaw had ten new girls and seven new boys, and Hufflepuff grown by ten boys and ten girls. Gryffindor also had expanded their numbers by ten girls, but there were no less than one dozen boys added to the fold. Connor wondered if they would squeeze six boys into each dormitory. It would be a tight fit, and he hoped for their sake that they all got along with one another. Still, the castle seemed to expand when needed, so perhaps a new room had added itself in somewhere in the tower to accommodate them all.

The Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, stood and raised her hands, and silence fell immediately over the Hall.

"Welcome back, students! And welcome to our newest housemates, as well. I have a short list of announcements to make, and then I will let you get on with your meal," she said in her usual strong and commanding voice. "First, I am pleased to announce that Professor Flitwick, our Charms professor, has agreed to postpone his retirement for one final year, until his intended replacement can join us. I would ask you all to please make this year a happy and memorable one for him."

The students applauded with pleasure. Professor Flitwick was well liked by his students, and always seemed to have a cheerful disposition about him that was contagious. Zack clapped especially loudly -- Charms was his favourite subject, and he was rather fond of old Professor Flitwick.

"Yes, yes," Professor McGonagall smiled as the sound died down. "We are all very pleased by his decision. Students second year and above should note that Quidditch tryouts will begin in one week, and I believe that all four houses are in need of reserve players at the very least, so those of you interested should look for an announcement on your common room bulletin boards."

Connor's stomach was letting him know that it was ready for the feast to begin, and so he sighed with relief as the Headmistress wrapped up her speech with the annual warnings against venturing into the Forbidden Forest and using magic in the corridors. She bid them all enjoy the feast, then sat as platters and bowls of food appeared in front of them.

"Finally," Ivy moaned, reaching for the roast chicken.

"You're starving, too?" Connor asked with a smile as he heaped potatoes onto his plate.

"I didn't have anything after the Cauldron Cake on the train," she said.

After the feast, Connor followed his friends out of the Great Hall and behind a tapestry. He noticed more than ever how much he had grown over the summer, because his shoulders scraped the sides of the secret passage, and his head almost hit the ceiling -- it had originally been built for house-elves. They wouldn't be able to use this corridor so easily this year if they all kept growing like this. Zack, who was walking ahead of him, had to slouch so his head wouldn't bang on the ceiling.

They moved briskly and emerged on the sixth floor, a short way from the main staircase. No other students had reached this floor yet, but the ghost of Ravenclaw raised a translucent eyebrow at them when they appeared from behind a portrait. Connor smiled sheepishly at her, and followed the rest as they walked to the main stairs and jogged up to the seventh floor and Gryffindor Tower.

The portrait of the Fat Lady looked as though it had been cleaned over the summer, and the Lady herself seemed to be in good spirits. "Password?" she asked in a singsong voice.

"Turris Domus," Quentin announced clearly.

The portrait swung open, and they clambered through the. Connor was tired, but instead of climbing up the stairs to his room, he sank into one of the good armchairs by the fire, and his friends followed suit.

"Aren't you tired?" Rachel asked with a yawn as she crowded in next to him, squashing him up against the arm of the chair.

"Exhausted," he answered, watching as the first of the other Gryffindors climbed through the portrait hole. "But we never get the good chairs by the fire normally."

Zack chuckled, and warmed his hands by the fire. Ivy had taken an armchair opposite Connor and Rachel, and Quentin sat on the floor, near her feet.

"It's good to be back," Quentin said tiredly.

The clock on the wall struck eleven, and the common room filled up rapidly as everyone arrived. The first year students came in and looked around them in awe, then were directed to their new rooms by the prefects. Most of the students simply climbed to their dormitories, too tired to stay up and socialize when they had a full day of classes in the morning.

"We'd better go to bed," Connor said reluctantly, shoving Rachel gently to her feet so that he could stand up himself.

The boys said goodnight to the girls at the bottom of the staircases, and then climbed to their room, the door of which now bore a silver plaque that read, 'Third Year Boys: Z. Ellis, Q. Malfoy, C. Potter, A. Tillman'. They pushed the door open to see that Andrew Tillman was already in his pyjamas, and was unpacking a few things from his trunk into the small wardrobe by his bed.

"All right, Andrew?" Connor asked as he flopped down across his bed, fully clothed.

"All right," he answered. "You?"

"Good," Connor said. "How was your holiday?"

"Strange," Andrew answered.

Connor nodded. He supposed that it would have been very strange. Last April, Connor and his friends had gone on quite an adventure that had included drugging Andrew with a sleeping draught, breaking into two faculty offices, and sneaking out of the castle and into the Ministry of Magic in the middle of the night. When they got there, they had managed to free Andrew Tillman's grandmother from an incredible fate - hanging in a sort of timeless limbo, caused by a damaged time-turner. Andrew had gone home for the summer holiday to face a family that had been forever altered by the return of a woman that had been missing and presumed dead for twenty years.

"I'll bet," Connor said quietly. "How is your family doing?"

"We're all right, I reckon," Andrew answered thoughtfully. "My Granddad and Grandmother are off right now on a sort of second honeymoon to get to know each other again after all this time." Andrew had a funny sort of smile on his face as he said it, as though he was unsure how he felt about it, but was happy for them anyway. "My parents are about to do the same. My dad... he's doing much better."

"That's good," Connor said. "I'm glad."

Andrew's father had spent a lot of time in St. Mungo's last year, because everyone had thought him crazy for believing the rumors that his mother's ghost had been spotted in the Ministry.

The boys all changed into their pyjamas, cleaned their teeth and washed their faces, and when Connor finally lay in bed, he was almost too tired to practice his occlumency. Knowing that he would regret it in the morning if he neglected it, he began his visualization. He fell asleep, drifting in a blue summer sky.