Harry Potter and the Return to Godric's Hollow

CHAPTER ONE

Summer's Surprises

A pair of bright emerald-green eyes stared wistfully at the world outside of a small window belonging to number four, Privet Drive. They awaited the arrival of a particular snowy owl, named Hedwig, and were growing quite restless. Harry Potter, the almost 15-year-old wizard, longed to be back with his friends at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was only the beginning of July, but it seemed like it had been ages since he had been there spending day after day with his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Now, it seemed those days were gone. So many people were probably unhappy... Especially those of the wizarding world who knew what was about to be unleashed on them.

Harry's eyes, still staring listlessly out the window, followed his neighbor, Arabella Figg, as she walked out of the Dursley's front door and back towards her house. She had been visiting quite a lot that summer. Harry suspected she was lonely; she was usually shut up in the study with his Aunt and Uncle, drinking tea and talking.

Harry lowered his eyes miserably, a gesture he'd been doing a lot of lately. He could still clearly remember those last terrifying weeks at Hogwarts when the Tri-Wizard Tournament had taken to its final task. He'd faced the foulest creature in the wizarding world and, in all probability, the Muggles' world also. His name, still feared by many wizards, was not one that was often spoken aloud: Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort had one of his most faithful Death Eaters, Barty Crouch Jr., pose as Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Crouch had made a portkey and placed it in the third and conclusive task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry and a fellow Hogwarts student, Cedric Diggory, got to the end of the task and grabbed the portkey together, which then transported them to the Dark Lord. Harry had escaped Voldemort yet again, but not before the dark wizard had extracted some of Harry's blood and restored himself to full power... and not before the death of Cedric. Harry knew these events were just a preface to Voldemort's rise to power.

Harry was abruptly jerked out of his trance as a movement in the sky caught his eye; Hedwig was finally returning from Ron's! She flew swiftly through the window and landed on Harry's shoulder, jutting her leg out so he could untie the attached letter. After getting it off and thanking Hedwig with a soft pat on the head, Harry hastily opened the note and began to read.

Harry,

You'll never believe the news I've got: Snuffles is going to come and stay with us! Mum and dad say he's arriving towards the end of the summer after he's done some work for Dumbledore. Of course, Percy keeps saying that what Snuffles is doing is very important, but he won't tell us kids what it is. Do you think it might be something critical or to do with You-Know-Who?

Anyway, Snuffles will be working while staying here at the Burrow, so he'll be in and out. Fred and George are going crazy over it. They keep saying how cool it'll be to have a deranged murderer living in the same house with them, even though they know he's not really any of that. Mum isn't too crazy about this whole ordeal, but she'll blow over it.

Harry paused, laughing at the memory of how loud Mrs. Weasley had screamed when she'd seen Sirius in the infirmary of Hogwarts last term. It must have taken a lot to convince her to allow Sirius to stay at their house, even though she also knew he was not indeed a killer. Harry tried to tune out Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia arguing downstairs, and continued to read.

Well, on to the best news: Dumbledore contacted us yesterday and told us you could come to the Burrow sometime this month. It's going to be the best summer, Harry! We'll have Snuffles to talk to, and you can tell me if I've got a chance as Keeper on the Quidditch team this year. Write back soon and tell us if you can come!

Ron

P.S. Dumbledore said he would get you the proper arrangements to get to our house, but our parents won't tell us what they are. Tell us what's happening when you find out!

Harry was speechless. He was going to the Burrow - he'd been having doubts all summer about Dumbledore even allowing him to go. Now, he knew he was going to go and be able to see Sirius.

"This is going to be the best summer ever!" Harry exclaimed, no longer speechless. He was just about to write back to Ron when he heard a loud bellowing ring up the stairs.

"Harry!" his Uncle Vernon roared.

Great, Harry thought, now what did I do? He ran down the stairs and stopped dead in his tracks. This must have been the scariest sight he had ever seen. Dudley, Uncle Vernon, and Aunt Petunia were all smiling at him as he slowly and guardedly walked towards them.

"Well, son, don't just stand there, give your old Uncle a hug!" And with that, Harry was swept into the arms of his huge Uncle Vernon. He heard Aunt Petunia screech, "Group hug!" and turned his head a fraction of an inch to see, to his profound horror, Dudley's armpit shoved into his face. He tried to hold his breath, but the stench of Dudley's underarms crept up Harry's nose. He sputtered, and was finally let go. He looked around, surprised, and saw what was causing this strange behavior. Mr. Cridget, the boss of another large drilling company Uncle Vernon had been speaking of recently, was standing with his wife in the front hall, watching.

"Yes, Harry is our nephew, but we prefer to call him our son. When he was left in our care 14 years ago and we knew he would always be like a son to us." Uncle Vernon smiled down, somewhat unconvincingly, on Harry, and then Aunt Petunia urged the Cridgets and Dudley into the dining room to sit down and eat. When they were out of earshot, Uncle Vernon looked, as he usually did, fierce as he spoke to Harry.

"Now listen here, boy, I don't want any funny business. I have another very important dinner and this time it better not be ruined. Yes, I am the smart one this time, Harry!" Uncle Vernon spat quietly with a manic glint in his eye. "I didn't tell you about this, so you couldn't have made any plots or plans against me at all. This time I will get what I want, or you will be out of here like that." Uncle Vernon snapped his fingers as he said his last word, and then stalked out of the room. Harry stood there for a second and listened hard as he heard his uncle speak once more.

"Poor boy, doesn't feel good so he went to his room to lay down a bit." Harry could just see Uncle Vernon glance at him through the door, and was glad he was the only one who could see him. His uncle cleared his throat and excused himself while he went to take Harry some crackers to "settle his poor stomach."

Harry cautiously watched Uncle Vernon as he approached. When he got within a few inches of his face, he said quietly in a voice flooded with menace, "Now go up to your room and don't come out until tomorrow morning to make breakfast. If there is any trouble, any trouble at all..." he trailed off menacingly.

Harry saw an opportunity arise. "Oh, sure, Uncle Vernon. But I have one question."

"What is it, boy? I don't have time for your games!"

"I'll stay quiet, if I can go to the Weasleys' house later this month."

Uncle Vernon goggled at Harry and opened his mouth ever so slightly to hiss out the word, "Fine," and then, "We'll talk about this tomorrow morning. If there's any ruckus, though, you're not going anywhere."

Harry took his crackers and ran up the stairs two at a time, then sat at his desk. He wrote back to Ron and told him he could come. Harry couldn't help but wonder; what surprise did Dumbledore have for him?

~*~

After a dinner of crackers, which stuck in his mouth rather badly as he couldn't go back downstairs to get a drink, Harry lay contently on his bed. After all, the bag of crackers was more than he had been eating lately with Dudley's diet and all. Harry slipped the remaining few crackers into Hedwig's cage so they would be waiting for her when she got back home. He suddenly thought about how ironic it would be if any house elves, especially Dobby, should appear in his bedroom. Harry settled himself at his desk, praying none would, and took out some homework he had been meaning to do. He couldn't really do much else at the moment without being too loud, so it seemed the only practical thing to do.

Two essays and one chapter of A History of Magic later, Harry heard the Dursleys say goodbye to the Cridgets and the door creak close. Harry let out a sigh of relief. Nothing had happened to make Uncle Vernon say he could not leave; then again, did he need a reason? Harry crawled into bed, not worrying about what Uncle Vernon's decision would be. He knew that he would get to the Burrow one way or another.

~*~

The next morning, Harry trudged down the stairs and started preparing breakfast. He was almost done frying the imitation egg-white omelets by the time Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came to the table. They were talking about the previous night and the good news he should be receiving that day when Dudley came waddling in.

"Good morning, my little Duddypoo!" Aunt Petunia greeted him merrily.

As Harry set the plates in front of them, they all stared at the slimy-looking white blobs on their plates in disgust. Harry was wondering why his Aunt had chosen such a revolting, rubber meal for him to cook when he was interrupted.

"So, boy, you wanted to go to those other, er, peoples' house to stay in July?" Uncle Vernon inquired coldly.

"Yeah. I was quiet last night and nothing happened, so can I go?" Harry asked, annoyed.

"What makes you think that I'll allow you to go even though you were quiet? You've caused us other trouble, and that's enough--"

"Seeing as my godfather was going to visit me there and really wanted to see me, I thought it would be a good idea to go. That way he wouldn't get... angry," Harry said slyly.

Uncle Vernon coughed and then looked at him with great displeasure. Apparently he wasn't going to get to use the whole lecture he had thought up for Harry, where the point would have been that no, he could not go. Finally, he cleared his throat once more.

"And how will you be getting there? They better not be coming to get you again like the last time. Those Weasels, they blasted the whole living room apart! And poor Dudley, here..." Uncle Vernon said as Dudley whimpered. Harry didn't know if this whimper was because his cousin had the thought of having another 4-foot long tongue, or because he had just devoured his omelet in one bite and was still hungry. Harry figured it was probably a combination of both reasons.

"The Weasleys said there were arrangements for me but didn't say exactly what they were," Harry answered.

"Well if it turns out anything like last year, you'll be sorry you ever entered this world. The punishment will be a good deal worse than your current one for last year's incident," Uncle Vernon said with a smirk. With that, he shoved his chair out from under the table, slapped an agonizingly lengthy list of chores for Harry to do on the table, his new 'punishment,' and then walked outside to go to work after bidding farewell to his family - well, not to Harry, of course.

Harry looked down at his list and scowled. This is going to be a long day, he thought, and a very long summer.

~*~

Harry stood up from weeding the garden and stretched his aching back. His list of chores that day had consisted of mopping the kitchen floor, scrubbing the toilets, sweeping the garage, sidewalk, and porch, and cleaning Dudley's bedroom out. (That hadn't been all bad; Harry had found some incriminating magazines under Dudley's bed and could now use them as a threat to his bullying cousin.) His final chore, weeding the garden, had gone a lot faster than he expected. In fact, lately he had been finishing all his chores remarkably fast. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd have thought a little magic had been helping him along.

He entered the house to hear his Uncle walk in at the same moment and yell, "Petunia, I'm home!" in an all too cheerful voice. Harry soon found out why he was so happy; Mr. Cridget had decided to go ahead and merge his company with Grunnings. Yippee, Harry thought sarcastically, more things for Dudley, more things for me to fix. He walked upstairs, cleaned himself up a bit, and came back down for dinner. While Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon weren't looking, Dudley grabbed for Harry's dinner, a slice of fat-free cold turkey with a lumpy, runny brown substance on it, which he supposed must be gravy. Harry merely had to send an ostracizing look in his direction and mutter, "Magazines" in a singsong voice, and his enormous lump of a cousin backed off immediately. Other than that mishap, things went smoothly, as everyone was in such a good mood. Harry slept peacefully once again that night.

~*~

The days seemed to fly past Harry that month. His list of chores got longer every day, but then he finished them quicker and quicker with each day that passed. After finishing one of the longest lists he'd gotten in the past few weeks, although it took him the shortest amount of time, Harry ran upstairs to his desk so he could write to Hermione Granger. He glanced quickly over her letter once again.

Dear Harry,

Hullo! Ron owled me and informed me that Dumbledore gave you permission to stay at the Burrow this month. That's great news; I'm going to be arriving in August and I'll be staying for the last two weeks of holiday. I'm extremely excited about Snuffles staying, too! I'm sure you've already celebrated that bit of news, though.

Harry, you'll never believe this! I'm going to visit Viktor in another week. I'll be staying for only a few days, as Viktor has to start Quidditch training for Bulgaria soon. I do hope he's been all right, after the last few happenings at Hogwarts, that is. We've exchanged a few letters and he seems to be doing fine.

Write back soon! I hope I receive your letter before I leave. I'll be very busy getting ready for my trip, so I'll most likely write you while I'm at Viktor's house.

See you soon,

Hermione

Harry shook his head slightly. He still hadn't gotten over the fact that Hermione, his best friend, was going to visit Viktor Krum, Bulgaria's famous Quidditch Seeker! He should have expected it, since Krum did seem to fancy her last year. Krum had asked her to the Yule Ball during the Tri-Wizard Tournament and, after the second Tournament task, he'd invited her to visit him over the summer. He didn't know where Hermione's feelings stood, though. She seemed to enjoy his company but Harry didn't know to what extent.

He pulled a piece of parchment, a quill, and some ink out of his desk and began his reply to Hermione.

Hermione,

I'm really excited about going to the Burrow! I'm not sure when I'll be leaving, but I hope it's soon. I can't wait to see Snuffles, the Weasleys, and you. You don't know how hard it is to live through these holidays.

I'm glad to hear about you and Viktor. Are you two still 'just friends?'

Harry scoffed to himself, picturing the scowl Hermione would probably have when she read that last line, but kept writing anyway.

Tell me how your visit is; do you think you'll be able to watch Krum practice Quidditch at all? That's something I'd love to see. Maybe you could pick up a few new tricks for me? I haven't been able to practice at all yet, and I'm dying to try something new.

Can't wait to see you in August! Have a nice trip, too!

Your friend,

Harry

Harry hastily rolled the parchment up and attached it to Hedwig.

"Take this to Hermione. Go to the Burrow when you finish. Hopefully, I'll be there already," Harry told his owl. He thanked her and with one final nip of the ear, she hooted and flew out the window.

Harry ran downstairs and started preparing another one of Aunt Petunia's 'dinners.'

~*~

Harry rolled over in bed and looked at his clock.

"Well, here we are, July 21^st," he mumbled to himself, wondering still just how he was going to be getting to Ron's house. He stumbled downstairs with sleepiness, following the scent of Aunt Petunia's already cooked breakfast. Just then, the doorbell rang.

Aunt Petunia bustled to the door while Harry stood, watching intently from the stairs. Every time the doorbell had rung that month, he had hoped it was someone coming to take him to Ron's. Aunt Petunia scowled at Harry waiting on the steps with his untidy hair, and opened the door to a scraggly, aged woman with graying curls. She was slightly hunched over, and even though he couldn't see her face, Harry knew exactly whom she was. There, on the porch of number four, Privet Drive, stood Mrs. Arabella Figg.

***

Harry still wasn't quite sure why their elderly neighbor would be stopping by again, but he knew she wasn't his ticket to the Burrow. He looked down at his feet dejectedly and slowly walked down the rest of the stairs, giving Mrs. Figg a small smile as he made his way to the kitchen. He sat down at the table to eat, only to find his plate was already empty. He looked up, merely to see Dudley staring at him with wide piggy eyes, obviously trying to look innocent, but instead looking like a swine that was about to be butchered.

"Should've known," Harry muttered.

"What?" Dudley questioned him, still trying his best to look guiltless.

"Shut up, you fat git," Harry replied.

"Oh, little Harry thinks he can bully me around. You can't do anything to me, you can't even use your," he lowered his voice, "magic."

"Yeah, but I can use something else that starts with the letter m."

Leaving Dudley to figure out that Harry was referring to the magazines, Harry stood up again and walked to the stairs, but stopped. He heard Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon arguing once again, but this time he could faintly make out Mrs. Figg calmly speaking to them. Out of curiosity and an instinct that he seemed to follow a great deal too often, Harry walked to the door of the study that stood ajar, opened just wide enough that he could peer through. He peeked in and saw his aunt and uncle standing if front of Mrs. Figg, their faces screwed up in fury. Uncle Vernon's face had turned so red that his head looked like a giant tomato, while Aunt Petunia's eyes looked as if they were about to pop out.

"How dare you even come here again! This has been going on all summer and I've had quite enough! You know how much we detest this unusual nonsense. It's bad enough we have Harry under this roof, but not another one!" Aunt Petunia squeaked. Uncle Vernon said nothing; his face was now beaded with sweat and was so scrunched in hatred that he looked like a shriveled up prune.

Harry wondered what they were talking about. Another one? And they were speaking of 'funny business' and Harry. Usually, when those three words were in the same sentence, it meant they were talking about... But they couldn't, not with Mrs. Figg...

"He deserves to know the truth. I've had to keep it from him for so long but an important official wants him to know now and I've been trying to tell him all summer, since I'm to take him to his friend's house to stay!" exclaimed an outraged, no longer calm, Mrs. Figg.

They were talking about him--and from what Harry figured, Mrs. Figg knew about the wizarding world, if she was to take him to Ron's... He leaned in closer towards the door so he could hear a little better - too close.

He stumbled forward into the room, flailing his arms about, trying to reach for something to break his fall. Unfortunately, for him and the lamp he had attempted to cling onto, he fell flat on his face and knocked his glasses off. He blindly reached around for them as he heard Aunt Petunia and Mrs. Figg intake their breath sharply and a giant crash somewhere around his feet, while Uncle Vernon muttered something unintelligible Harry wished he hadn't heard. He slowly stood up and gaped at Mrs. Figg.

In a weary voice, he sputtered, "Mrs. Figg, h--how do you know?"

"I think it's best that you sit down, dear. And I also think we should be left alone." Mrs. Figg eyed Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. They retreated reluctantly out of the room with scowls upon their faces, but also looked rather fearful. Aunt Petunia frowned at the shattered lamp on the floor before shutting the door behind her. Harry turned to Mrs. Figg as she started speaking to him.

"First of all, I'm not married, so don't call me Mrs. Figg. It's just part of my...cover-up. Call me Arabella." Harry was now very confused, so he just stared at her while she continued. "Harry, I know all about you and your parents," she paused and sighed, then said, "and I think it's time you knew about me in return."

There was a long pause. Arabella slowly pulled a long, swishy wand out of her handbag and said, "Agio Reducto!" as she circled her wand counter-clockwise above her head. Harry watched as Mrs. Figg's gray hair turned to shiny chestnut brown curls and her face smoothed, letting her usual dim eyes shine a sparkling icy blue. She stood tall and slim now, instead of hunched over. A pretty woman of about 35 years of age stood in front of Harry. He just stared at her, and closed his mouth abruptly when he realized it had been hanging open.

"Harry, I'm a witch," Arabella stated matter-of-factly as she pointed her wand to the shattered lamp on the floor and restored it to normal. Harry, of course, had already figured this much out but was having trouble registering the fact.

"You knew my parents?" he questioned, his voice cracking slightly.

Arabella solemnly shook her head yes.

"They were great people, Harry. They would have been very proud," she said as she patted him softly on his shoulder.

Harry returned her smile then asked another question.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a witch years ago?"

"Well, as you have already learned over the past few years, Voldemort cannot touch you while you're in your relatives' care. However, we knew how much your father tended to get into trouble, whether accidental or not, and we knew you'd take after him a great deal. Professor Dumbledore thought it would be best for me to keep watch over you and make sure any trouble that was nearby would stay away from you. I wasn't supposed to tell you about my true identity, for reasons even unknown to me.

"Then this summer, my friend and your godfather, Sirius Black, paid me a visit. I must say I was rather surprised when he turned up, even though Dumbledore had informed me beforehand. He had instructions from Dumbledore for me, part of which was to tell you about my status as a witch and to take you to the Weasleys' house when it was time," Arabella stopped to catch her breath, while Harry thought about it.

Of course, how could he have been so stupid! He scolded himself silently; he clearly remembered Professor Dumbledore telling Sirius to alert an Arabella Figg along with the rest of the 'old crowd.' Why hadn't he made the connection?

"So, you've spent the last 14 years cooped up in that house with all those cats just to watch over me?" Harry asked disbelievingly. Arabella chuckled and just shook her head.

"Yes, I suppose so," she said thoughtfully. "It wasn't as bad as you make it out to be; I still live my life as a witch, of course! I do get out of that drab house every once in a while. Oh, and they aren't cats, they're Kneazles."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows together questioningly. "Kneazles?"

"Oh, yes. Great creatures, they are. Look exactly like cats, only a bit larger. That way, Muggles don't think anything about them. But the most wonderful thing about them is that they can sense anything suspicious that is around. This helped with my job of watching over you. Those Kneazles sensed anything long before it got here; helped me out quite a bit.

"I know that all I've told you so far has been a shock, but there's still one more thing I think I ought to tell you, Harry. You know that Sirius is your godfather. Well--" she took a deep breath, "I'm your godmother."

Harry was at first astonished. He'd been living next to his godmother for the last 14 years and hadn't even realized it! But slowly, he let it all sink in, and looked back into Arabella Figg's concerned eyes. He smiled at her, and seeing that he accepted her, Arabella leaned forward and hugged him. The warmth reminded him of a wonderful feeling he'd gotten deep inside of him when Mrs. Weasley had hugged him; it was the sensation any child would get when their mother hugged them.

"Now, Harry, I know you definitely don't want to stay here any longer. Are you ready to go to the Weasley's home?"

Harry nodded with a grin and ran upstairs to get pack.

~*~

One portkey later, Harry was standing in the familiar kitchen of his best friend's house. He was back with what he felt was his family. He was back with the Weasleys.

The whole Weasley family poured into the kitchen to greet a dazed Harry and Arabella Figg. Molly and Arthur Weasley, Ron's parents, hugged Arabella like they were old friends and invited her to stay for dinner. Harry and Ron dragged Harry's belongings up the zigzagging staircase to Ron's room. When they set his all of his things down, Ron said, "Well?"

"Well, what?" Harry asked.

"Well, what was the special arrangement that Dumbledore made for you?"

"Oh, that," Harry said, "It was Mrs.--Arabella Figg, my neighbor. Y'know, the one I told you had heaps of cats and smelled like cabbage."

Ron snorted, "Yeah, I think I remember that description, Harry. She certainly didn't look as old and boring as you made her out to be. And you never told me she was a witch."

"That's because she isn't old and boring, and I didn't know she was a witch."

Ron raised one eyebrow in disbelief. "But I thought she's been living next to you since, well, forever? How did you not know?"

"She used an aging charm or something to make herself look older and reversed it at my house this morning when she told me she was a witch," Harry explained. "She's been stuck in her house next-door watching over me for the last 14 years. It was a secret job, I think. Dumbledore wouldn't let her tell me she was a witch, but I guess sometime this summer he finally gave her permission. And you know the best part?"

Ron shook his head no, and asked, "What?"

"She's my godmother."

"No way! And you never knew? Do you think she and Sirius were ever, you know, together?"

"I don't know, but she said Sirius had come to visit her over the summer, so they must be old friends. Plus, she knew that he didn't commit those murders, because I never heard any screams come from next door. She knew my parents, too, so she must've been friends with their whole crowd--"

"Lunch is ready!" Mrs. Weasley's cheery voice rang up the stairs.

~*~

Everyone sat happily around the table that day for lunch. Arabella and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had somewhat isolated themselves at one end of the table and talked in soft undertones so that they weren't heard over the squabble of the kids. Percy, who had been there to greet Harry, wasn't there anymore. He had to go to work; Percy had informed Harry that he was now the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. It turned out that after Hagrid had dug up the transfigured bone of Barty Crouch Sr. in the front of his cottage, they had turned him back into his self. There was a small, private funeral over the summer and then the Ministry gave Crouch's old job to Percy.

"After lunch, we have got to play Quidditch," Ron cut off Harry's thoughts. "I've been practicing being a Keeper all summer and -" Ron was interrupted.

"I reckon he has a smidgen of a chance, Harry," George said, smiling wickedly.

"Yeah," Fred scoffed, "if there aren't any third years or above trying out."

"Or Neville - it'd take a ton of practice to out-rank that pro," George added casually as an afterthought. They all laughed, but Ron looked around, crestfallen.

"Oy, take a joke Ron; we're just kidding around with you. You'd beat out anyone any day. Well, that is, of course, if Ginny here weren't playing..." Fred laughed.

Ron now looked peeved, while Ginny flushed red.

"Ron, it's okay, really! Ginny's an excellent player and all, but you truly don't have to worry about trying to get that position on the team!" George said, rather exasperated. He rolled his eyes and went back to eating his potatoes.

Harry enjoyed the cheerful conversation, but couldn't help but think about a question that had been nagging at him. Being secluded from the Wizarding world over the summer, Harry missed out on a lot. This included any news on Voldemort or his followers, the Death Eaters. Their antics at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament showed that they were starting to come at large, and would probably appear out of hiding soon.

"So, has there been any news on, er, You-Know-Who?" Harry asked hesitantly, looking around. The adults heard Harry's question, and decided it was time to join in their conversation.

Mr. Weasley started, "Cornelius Fudge - that bloody idiot." Mrs. Weasley glared at him for his language. "He won't believe Dumbledore about You-Know-Who. Fudge has even been threatening his position as Headmaster at Hogwarts. Dumbledore is the only really powerful wizard who acknowledges the danger that is coming, and he's started working immediately. As long as we have him, we have a chance of winning this battle."

"Are they setting up anything at Hogwarts this year?" Ginny asked. It was obvious that she was worried about the upcoming year.

"Oh, yes. You'll be seeing many changes at Hogwarts this year. But there's no need to worry, dear, with Albus around that school," Arabella said gently, her eyes radiating assurance to Ginny.

"How do you know so much about what's happening at Hogwarts this year, Arabella?" Harry asked her.

"Don't you think all the teachers will know what's going to go on there?" Arabella replied, raising her eyebrows at Harry.

All the kids snapped their eyes to Arabella. The same thought seemed to present itself in their minds at the same time.

"You're going to be a new Professor this year?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, I am; Defense Against the Dark Arts. My new job was the reason Albus allowed me to tell you who I really was. He thought it might be a bit of a nasty shock for you if you walked in the Great Hall and saw me sitting with all the teachers."

"Oy, George! If we start sucking up to her now, maybe we won't get in as much trouble!" Fred whispered to his twin excitedly. He was too eager to keep his voice down too much, resulting in the whole table hearing his idea. Molly's eyes narrowed precariously, but Arabella chuckled and shook her head at the boys.

"Sorry, boys, but that won't be helping you out at all with me."

Fred looked unhappily at his plate and George muttered, "We can always try though!" Fred was grinning again, and the two twins started whispering together as everyone else started their own conversations.

~*~

After lunch, Arabella bid everyone goodbye.

"Aww, man! We didn't get a chance to--" Fred was cut off by receiving a kick in the shins from George.

Harry quickly went over to her, hugged her, and thanked her for all she'd done for him.

"That's what godmothers are for, dear." She gave him one last smile and Disapparated.