Choices and Consequences

The remainder of the summer holidays went very quickly for Harry. Between his elemental magic lessons with Fabian Gaarder, which seemed to be going reasonably well, and his trio of subject areas with John Christopher, he found he had little time to himself to brood over anything, and he put the inquiry to the back of his mind.

John had deemed the Potions lessons sufficiently successful that he didn't feel it would be worthwhile continuing them once Harry got to school, and in any case Harry would be having the regular NEWT classes with Professor Snape.

"If you remember most of what you've learned this summer, you really shouldn't have any problems with NEWT-level Potions," John told him, though Harry wasn't quite so sure.

But, if nothing else, Harry felt that he finally understood what Potions was about, and he'd gained enough of a grasp of the sixth year text that he'd purchased in Flourish and Blotts that he was confident that he'd have far fewer problems with whatever Snape subjected them to in class than in pervious years.

If he could ignore the man's snide comments and taunting, caustic remarks he might get through the NEWT classes without too many problems.

The duelling sessions had also gone well, and Harry had built up a lot of confidence in his abilities, feeling that he'd be able to hold his own in a duel with just about anyone. He'd already out-matched John and Moody for speed and power in his curses, even if his tactics were perhaps not all that astute, and they had also taught him a number of useful hexes and curses that could prove handy in combat situations to add to Harry's repertoire.

Moody had been keen to warn him not to be cocky or to go looking for a fight, despite his proficiency though, nor become complacent.

The weekend sessions with Tonks had improved his agility and stamina, even though the two of them hadn't actually spent any significant time duelling, despite the wards that meant Harry could actually do magic at Privet Drive. Just doing exercise routines that the Aurors used to strengthen the appropriate muscles proved to be of great benefit in honing his strength and reflexes.

As far as the Occlumency went, once Harry established the characteristics of John's mental probing, particularly in comparison with Gaarder's, things progressed much more smoothly. With practice he'd been able to force both of them out of his mind fairly quickly, before they had chance to access any of his memories, and even with the increasing subtlety of their attacks he was having a good success rate.

The day before Harry was due to catch the Hogwarts Express, John drew him aside at the end of the lesson.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts in just over a week," he advised Harry, "and we'll work out a schedule to carry on with your duelling and Occlumency lessons. Gaarder will do the same for your other stuff, okay?"

"Sure," Harry agreed. "But why in a week?"

"You'll need time to settle into your new timetable - NEWTs aren't easy by any stretch of the imagination, even with a headstart - once you've got that sorted we'll slot your tutoring in."

"Are you going to be living at the castle?" Harry asked.

John laughed. "No - I live near enough here," he said, waving a hand at his apartment.

Harry felt foolish for a moment. With the ease of travelling through the Floo between Privet Drive and Hogsmeade, he'd forgotten where his lessons were actually taking place.

"And Professor Gaarder?"

"I'm not totally sure, Harry. He was arranging something with Dumbledore, but I'm sure he'll be pretty close at hand as well.

"Whatever else happens, you've done pretty well so far."

Harry nodded in understanding and thanks, before taking the Floo back to the Dursleys, where he spent his last evening there tidying the place up so his relatives didn't freak out when they got home.

The next morning, Harry found himself travelling into London on the train for the fourth time that summer, his school trunk magically shrunken to fit comfortably in his pocket and Hedwig's cage under one arm.

As with his previous trip to attend the inquiry at the Ministry of Magic, he was accompanied by Mad-eye Moody, rather than Tonks, and the journey wasn't especially eventful. Harry passed the time reading the first part of his Charms textbook, since Moody had decided that he was too conspicuous to the Muggles to visibly travel with Harry and had concealed himself under an invisibility cloak.

Harry was of two minds about this. Although it meant that he was travelling as though he was alone and he missed Tonks's company, he wasn't sure that he really wanted to have any in depth discussions with Moody. The last time he'd been in a social situation with Moody was the previous year after his trial at the Ministry, and Moody had shown him an old photo of the Order of the Phoenix from the first war with Voldemort, which had upset Harry somewhat, reminding him of his parents and the numerous others who had been lost in the fight against evil even before he had been born.

Obliquely, Harry wondered why they had needed to take the train into London for the inquiry, when Moody had been able to provide a Portkey to get them home again

In just under an hour the train pulled into Victoria station and Harry took the underground to Kings Cross where he discreetly slipped through the barrier to platform nine and three quarters with almost half an hour to spare.

He looked around the platform for his friends, and a flicker of pleased recognition crossed his face as he saw the welcoming sight of the Hogwarts Express pulling into the station. The red steam engine was a sign of constancy and it made Harry relax a little as he remembered his first trip on the train.

He spotted Ron, Hermione and Ginny at the far end of the platform watching the train pull up and chatting with Mr and Mrs Weasley. He also noticed that, despite the early hour, they were keeping an eye out for someone, most likely him.

Harry strode across the platform towards them and as he arrived was swiftly engulfed in one of Mrs Weasley's trademark hugs.

"Harry dear, how are you? It's good to see you," she greeted him.

"I'm good thanks. It's good to see you too," he smiled in return. Mr Weasley smiled at Harry from over his wife's shoulder and patted him on the back.

"We were beginning to think we were going to miss you this morning," he added. "I have to get back to the office in a very short while, and if you'd turned up at the last minute, Molly and I wouldn't have seen you at all."

"Yes, dear," Molly put in, "we were most upset that you decided to stay at Privet Drive all summer. I spoke to Professor Dumbledore on numerous occasions, trying to get him to let you stay with us for a few weeks before you went back to school, but he told us that it was your decision to stay where you were. Didn't you want to come to The Burrow?"

"Now, now, Molly, " Mr Weasley interrupted before Harry could try and explain why he'd opted to stay at the Dursleys' for the whole summer. "You know that Harry has to stay there to maintain the blood protection that his family provides. I understand he's been getting some private tutoring as well, from what I've heard. I'm sure it was for the best, dear."

"Well I hope those dratted relatives of yours treated you a little better this summer, Harry. You do look a little healthier than we normally see you after spending the summer with them."

Harry was amused at the interplay between the Weasley parents. It was clear that neither Ron nor Ginny had mentioned that Harry was living alone, as he had asked, or that the Dursleys had been away for almost the entire summer. He supposed he ought to come clean about it, since there was little that Mr or Mrs Weasley could do about it now.

"Actually, I haven't seen my Aunt or Uncle since the first week of the holidays," Harry admitted. "Dumbledore and Moody persuaded them that they should go away for a couple of months, and they've been abroad all this time."

Mrs Weasley looked shocked at this announcement. "What? You've been living on your own for two months? How could you possibly have coped? I don't know what Dumbledore is playing at! Why didn't you say anything when you came to The Burrow for your birthday?"

"Please, Mrs Weasley, I coped just fine," Harry tried to calm her down.

"But who's been doing all your cooking and cleaning all this time? I can't believe that you're not just skin and bones."

Harry laughed quietly at Mrs Weasley's concern. "I've been cooking since I was about six years old, Mrs Weasley. It was one the first chores that Aunt Petunia had me take over, since it gave her more time to spend spying on the neighbours for something to gossip about and watching her favourite soaps on the TV."

The Weasleys looked a little confused at Harry's reference to soap operas, but just assumed it was some programme that the Dursleys liked to watch.

Mrs Weasley chuntered on a little more about leaving teenagers to look after themselves, but Harry reassured her that he was fine, better actually than he'd ever been before when living at Privet Drive, and changed the subject, to deflect attention onto someone else.

"So, Ginny, how are you feeling about not being made prefect? I know you said you didn't really care too much, but I thought I'd ask anyway. You're in good company," he joked.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, "Would you mind not bringing this up in front of my parents?"

Harry chuckled. "I'm sure they only want the very best for you, Ginny, and I'm sure they're happy and support you whatever grades you achieve or whatever you want to do when you leave school, so they're not going to be upset about this, surely?" Harry asked, with half an eye on Mrs Weasley for her reaction.

He could also see out of the corner of his eye that Hermione looked a little annoyed at his comment, but he was concentrating on the Weasleys for now.

"That's not the point," Ginny insisted, as Mrs Weasley shuffled a little uneasily at Harry's comments.

"Oh?"

"No. Don't forget my git of a brother here," she said in an annoyed tone, indicating Ron, "is a prefect and he just went and made my life difficult by getting the badge. That only meant that Mum and Dad raised their expectations for me."

Ron looked like he was going to protest at Ginny's vituperative outburst, but caught a glance of her face and realised she was just winding him up.

"Why couldn't he have been more like Fred and George, and given me a proper role model to follow?" she asked with a grimace.

Ron stuck his tongue out at her in response, and was duly chastised by his mother, and received a slap on the arm from Hermione.

"Ron, dear, that's not a very mature look, you know," she rebuked, and Ron's face turned a deep shade of red.

"Anyhow Harry," Mr Weasley interceded, "you're perfectly correct. We're not going to get upset simply because Ginny didn't make prefect. We don't judge our children simply on their academic achievements, even if we want them to be successful."

He cast a fond glance at his wife before continuing. "Neither Molly nor myself were Hogwarts prefects, and it's unfair of us to expect all our children to make up for what we couldn't achieve ourselves, however much we were spoiled by Bill and Percy both being made Head Boy in their respective seventh-years."

"Didn't stop Mum spending half an hour complaining about it though," Ginny muttered.

Mr Weasley put a hand on her shoulder. "Now, now, Ginny."

"I didn't really expect to be made prefect, despite what Mum and Dad hoped," Ginny said softly, turning back to Harry. "Too many people remember that I was the girl that the basilisk took into the Chamber of Secrets, and wonder about whether I'm safe to be with."

She cracked a smile though, to hide what must have been a very painful recollection. "Well, it's either that or all the pranks that I helped Fred and George to pull. I don't think Professor McGonagall ever forgave me for doctoring her blackboard with ever-sticking chalk that she couldn't remove!"

"Ginny!" Molly burst out, "How could you treat your Head of House like that. She deserves the utmost respect, not to be treated like a test-subject for the twins' latest inventions!"

Mr Weasley held up a hand to cut short Mrs Weasley's tirade, and clamed her down, assuring her that he was confident that McGonagall would have had no trouble counteracting the prank, and that, after all, no one was hurt by it.

Ginny sighed theatrically. "I can always live 'next door' with Fred and George if you're desperate to have the whole family be prefects," she joked in an aside to Hermione.

Any further argument between the Weasleys about Ginny's behaviour was forestalled by a hoot from the train that indicated its readiness for departure. While they'd been chatting, the masses of students had made their way onto the platform, and the vast majority had now alighted onto the Hogwarts Express.

"Come on then folks, we'd better get moving, otherwise we'll struggle to find a carriage again," chivvied Harry. They said their goodbyes to Mr and Mrs Weasley and, as they turned to pick up their luggage and get on board, Moody uncharacteristically broke his cover for a second to reassure the Weasleys that he'd keep an eye on them all from under his invisibility cloak.

"You must come to The Burrow for Christmas, Harry," Mrs Weasley insisted as they boarded the train. "It'll be nice to have family around."

Harry smiled and waved his thanks as Ron bundled past him.

They loaded their trunks onto the train and the four of them set out to look for a carriage. Although the train was filling up quickly, they soon came across Neville and Luna, who were by themselves in a carriage close to the rear of the train. They exchanged the usual greetings and pleasantries and settled down for the long journey northwards.

As the train pulled out of the station, Luna started telling the others about her trip to Sweden, and that although they hadn't found any traces of the Crumple-horned Snorkack, Luna's father had been fairly certain that they had found tracks.

"They led a long way to the north though, so we didn't follow too far," she sighed sadly. "We think that they must migrate northwards for the summer to find somewhere to feed, so we're going to go back over the Christmas holidays and see if we have any better luck."

Hermione listened politely to Luna without commenting, which Harry viewed as something of an achievement, given the implausible nature of Luna's story and Hermione's natural tendency to correct her about the existence of the creatures.

Neville talked about how his summer had been a bit disappointing. His Gran had been rather upset that he had managed to break his father's wand, and adopted a rather cool attitude toward him for the earlier part of the summer.

"That changed when she finally agreed to take me to Ollivander's to get a replacement, though," Neville added with a grin. "Ollivander was most put out with her and gave her a real talking to about providing me with a more compatible wand."

Apparently Neville's spellwork had been badly compromised over the years for having to use his father's wand, which had been a totally unsuitable match.

"He was confident that my new wand would deliver much better results, just like my parents'," he said proudly.

Neville showed off his new wand, which he proudly announced was Yew with a unicorn hair core, disarming Ron with a flick of his wrist and a muttered 'expelliarmus'.

Harry thought that it looked pretty effective and commented as much to Neville, who was looking forward to using it is classes, and hoping that it would make his life a little easier.

Neville seemed a lot more confident than he had in previous years, Harry thought. Whether it was just that he was happier using his new wand, or if the work they'd done in the DA had helped as well, Harry wasn't sure. It might even have been the fact that Neville no longer had to suffer Potions lessons at the hands of Professor Snape, who terrified him. Whatever it was, Harry was pleased to see his friend making progress.

After a short while Ron and Hermione made their way down the train for the traditional prefects meeting and to patrol the train for a short while, so Harry entertained Neville and Luna with the details of his own summer holiday and the training that he had been doing with John Christopher and Fabian Gaarder. Ginny sat quietly and listened too, as even though she had heard most of what Harry had been up to, they'd not discussed his training since Harry had been at The Burrow for his birthday, other than a few casual mentions in their letters.

He recounted a somewhat limited version of events, since the whole summer would have taken quite a time to discuss, and was prepared for all sorts of questions once he got to the end. The first one surprised him though.

"So are you going to continue with the DA this year, Harry?" Neville asked him eagerly at hearing of the new hexes and tactics that Harry had been learning.

"I hadn't intended to," Harry replied, though he wished he'd been a little more non-committal when Neville's face fell at his response. "After all, we only started it last year because of Umbridge's useless classes, and even then mostly because Hermione wanted to pass her Defence against the Dark Arts OWL," he added, temporising somewhat.

"If the Defence teacher is any good this year then I don't think there's much need for me to carry on with it."

"Actually, Harry, I thought it was really worthwhile," Neville persuaded. "I learned loads last year that I wouldn't have done in any of the other classes. I wouldn't have got 'Exceeds Expectations' on my Defence OWL if you hadn't been teaching us."

Harry flushed at the praise, even though he'd simply done what he'd felt he had to, rather than something that was for everyone's benefit. More than anything, he'd initially felt that Hermione had railroaded him into setting up the DA, but once it was up and running it had really been the only highlight of his fifth year, giving him something to look forward to beyond the hell that Umbridge had made his life.

"Well, I'll think about it and see how it goes, Neville," Harry suggested. "I'm not sure whether I'll have time to fit in the DA as well as all the other things this year: the training I've been doing is going to carry on during the year, and I'll have Quidditch practices as well, hopefully."

"I think you should carry on with it, Harry," Luna opined finally. "It gives us another option to Minister Fudge's own army."

Harry gave her a quizzical look, but refrained from commenting on Luna's wild theory. After all, for all he knew, the Minister of Magic could easily have his own army, whether or not they were heliopaths as Luna had once suggested.

"It was never really Dumbledore's Army, Harry," she added ambiguously.

Ginny was also keen for Harry to continue with the DA, after all, she was sure that the additional practice would come in handy for her Defence practical OWL, if nothing else, and she felt that it was helpful for the students to get some practice for situations where they might be faced with "real, live opponents", as she put it.

She pointed out how the six of them had managed to fend off a full dozen Death Eaters without sustaining any life threatening injuries even if, in the end, they'd had to be rescued by members of the Order.

Harry wasn't too pleased about yet another reminder of the disastrous visit to the Department of Mysteries, and Sirius's death, but appreciated Ginny's point. If they hadn't been working on some actual practical applications of their Defence spell work in the DA, they probably wouldn't have survived very long.

It wasn't long before Ron and Hermione returned from their prefects meeting, and whatever further persuasion Neville had planned was forgotten as Hermione stormed into the carriage, her face red with anger.

"I can't believe it!" she exclaimed. "After all they did last year, Malfoy and Parkinson are still prefects!" she thundered at her friends.

The Slytherin sixth year prefects had been prominent among those that Umbridge had recruited to her 'Inquisitorial Squad' the previous year, primarily because it was a way to intimidate the other students, Harry thought, but no doubt also as a way of getting directly at Harry and his friends.

"You'd've thought that Dumbledore would have rescinded their privileges after the way they behaved last year," she continued, barely stopping for breath.

Harry looked at Ron questioningly.

"Yep, all the way down the corridor, mate. I'll be surprised if Malfoy didn't hear it himself," he confirmed.

Harry rolled his eyes. It looked as though they'd be receiving a visit from the unwelcome Draco Malfoy and his cronies at some point during the trip, a visit that Harry had hoped would be avoided.

"You know why they're prefects, don't you, Hermione?" Harry asked the purple-faced girl, who was still struggling to control her rage.

"No. Please enlighten me, Harry," she responded sarcastically. "Let me think, could it possibly be because they're Snape's favourites?"

"Well probably," Harry concurred, "but I think it's also because they're really the only leaders in their year in Slytherin. Look at the rest of them in our year: Crabbe and Goyle are so dense that they probably have to spend half the morning figuring out which of them has the shared brain cell that day; Millicent Bulstrode spends half her time beating up the girls in the year above her; Blaise Zabini and Whatsisname Nott-"

"Theodore Nott," Hermione prompted automatically.

"Theodore, then," Harry continued, "are so introverted I almost wonder if they're Muggleborns Sorted into Slytherin, 'cos Merlin knows I'd keep damn quiet if I was; Tracey Davis, and the other girl, Greengrass are almost as invisible. Who else could they choose as prefects?"

Hermione conceded that Harry had a point. It didn't seem to make her any less annoyed that Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson had retained their prefect status, but she did accept that there probably weren't any other options.

Seeing that Hermione had pretty much wound down her rant, Ron elected to change the subject somewhat.

"Anyway, Aeneas Barwick from Hufflepuff and Cho Chang are Head Boy and Head Girl this year, for all that it matters. I don't think I'd even heard of Barwick before today, but it isn't as though there were many candidates for the post. I mean, can anyone actually name any of the other seventh years?"

"There's-"

"Anyone apart from Hermione?" Ron interrupted.

Hermione gave Ron a dirty look and raised her fist at him.

"Whoa, whoa, I'm only kidding," he said as he tried to back away from Hermione's threatening posture, a difficult feat bearing in mind the cramped nature of the carriage. He ended sitting down almost in Neville's lap as he sidled away from her.

"I've seen the damage you can do with that fist," he mollified her, referring to Hermione's assault on Malfoy in their third year.

Hermione backed down a little, though her face was still clouded with annoyance at Ron's comment. Reigning in her temper, she turned back to Harry.

"How do you feel about Cho being Head Girl?" she asked him.

Harry shrugged. "At least she was in the DA and can stand up to the Slytherins when she needs to. Dumbledore obviously thinks that she engenders some respect among the younger years, or he wouldn't have appointed her."

"That's not really what I meant, Harry. I meant how do you feel about her personally, after what happened between the two of you last year?"

"To be honest, Hermione, I don't really care. She was all upset over Cedric and I never really got to know her anyway. It was a complete disaster. I don't even know if I still fancy her, now. I mean she's nice enough, but we were never exactly close, and it's not like she would have come to the Ministry with us even if I'd asked."

"What's this? Potty still pining over the new Head Girl, is he?"

The unwelcome voice of Draco Malfoy echoed above the reverberations of the carriage door, which he'd just slammed open.

Hermione squealed as it caught her heel, and at the newcomer's sneer, kicked it back, and the handle caught Malfoy in the ribs, making the occupants of the carriage snicker at the blond boy's discomfort.

"You want to be careful, Mudblood," he spat, as Crabbe and Goyle appeared at his shoulders, "or you'll end up like that flea-bitten mongrel you've been running around with. And no, for once I'm not talking about Weasley there."

Crabbe and Goyle cracked their fingers menacingly, though Harry though whimsically that they would only end up with arthritis from mistreating their joints so.

Suddenly, Malfoy and his goons found themselves facing the business end of five wands. Harry hadn't needed to draw his own, but the fury in his eyes was enough on its own to cause the Slytherin bullies to take a step backward.

He stood and gently pushed the others aside, coming face to face with the blond-haired boy. Neither of them was particularly tall, but Harry was glad that at least he didn't have to look up to speak to Malfoy.

"Since you clearly haven't the social grace of even a baboon and you've no business here, we don't want to be associated with you. Please leave," Harry suggested softly, making a shooing motion with his hand.

Malfoy sneered again and spat at Harry's feet.

"Like I care what you want, Potter"

Harry shrugged. "Have it your way then - threats it is."

He looked back around at his friends and gesticulated at the five wands pointed at the three Slytherins.

"I recommend you take your sorry arse out of our carriage and haul it back down the train to where your friends can protect you, Malfoy, because right here and right now, they can't." Harry's voice was deadly calm as he threatened Malfoy. "Your Father might have power and influence, but right now I'll bet he's more concerned with using it to try and get out of Azkaban than saving your worthless carcass."

Malfoy blanched for a moment, then regained his composure.

"You think you're really big, don't you, getting my Father arrested? Well he won't be in Azkaban long, and when he's out you'll get yours, Potter, count on it!"

Malfoy turned to go, but Harry stopped him, grabbing hold of his left arm and rolling up the sleeve of his robe against his adversary's struggles as he did.

"No Dark Mark yet, I see, Malfoy," he noted, as Malfoy pulled his arm out of Harry grasp. "Can't see that lasting long, though. Go on, get out of here!"

He gave Malfoy a push backwards into his two henchmen, and the three Slytherins stumbled their way out of the carriage and back into the aisle.

Malfoy's eyes spoke eloquently of the threats he hadn't uttered, but he apparently thought better of taking on all six of them and disappeared out of sight down the corridor.

"Wow, Harry, that was so cool!" Ron admired, after a moment's silence around the carriage. "You really told him."

Harry chuckled. "I wasn't the one with my wand pointed at him, Ron, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, but he actually looked scared of you, and you didn't even have to do any magic!"

Luna smiled at Harry. "Bit of a shame though, really. I wanted to see how Neville's new wand would work."

Neville started coughing at this, but soon recovered his composure. Luna slapped him on the back, presumably to try and ease the coughing fit, though she didn't seem to be having much impact.

"Umm, I'm done coughing, Luna," he told her after a minute or so when he'd got his breath back. "You can stop hitting me now."

"Oh!" she replied, sounding a little disappointed, and turned back to the rest of the carriage.

"So what are you having all this training for, Harry?" she asked, changing the subject abruptly. "I'm sure it'll be useful for teaching the DA, but that's not all you've got to cope with, is it?"

Harry wasn't used to his friends being quite so prescient. As far as he knew, Luna didn't actually know about the prophecy, but he supposed it was time to tell her, and more importantly, to let Neville know that it might have been he that was the subject of it.

He took a deep breath and launched into the story of his meeting in the Headmaster's office after they had been rescued from the Ministry of Magic, and told them the detail of the prophecy. Neville looked a bit shaken at the prophecy itself, but after Harry had explained that Voldemort had marked him by attacking him as a baby and giving him the scar, he merely looked relieved and a little concerned for Harry.

Harry didn't go into any detail about John Christopher's explanation about him being an "agent of choice", since he still needed to speak to Dumbledore about it. After all, the Headmaster had said that he couldn't see any interpretation other than Harry literally having to kill the Dark Lord.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny had heard the prophecy before, having seen Harry's memory of it at Hermione's house, so at least Harry didn't have to deal with a whole barrage of questions about it. Neville was fairly subdued about it, merely confirming with Harry that it could have been him that was the subject of the prophecy and was glad that it wasn't!

"So that's why he wanted the prophecy," Luna said excitedly. "He wanted to know how Harry was going to kill him!"

Harry looked at her askance, and made a face at Luna's blunt interpretation of the prophecy, even though it effectively matched what he'd thought when Dumbledore had confronted him with it.

"Well, as you can see, it doesn't tell him," Harry scoffed. "In fact, given all the trouble that he went to in order to get hold of it, I'm sure he would have been disappointed in how little information he'd have gained from knowing the damn thing."

"When it comes down to it, he didn't do very well out of the situation, did he?" Hermione suggested.

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny, who'd been fairly quiet for the majority of the journey so far.

"Well, firstly he still doesn't know the prophecy's content, though that's only really a minor thing based on what it says," Hermione explained, "but also, he lost eleven Death Eaters to Azkaban with hardly any cost to our side-"

Harry started to object.

"Sorry, Harry, perhaps that didn't come out very well. I didn't mean to belittle Sirius's death, what I meant was that overall, we probably ended up with a better chance of defeating Voldemort than before," Hermione apologised, realising she'd been rather inconsiderate.

Harry settled down, accepting her apology, and waved for her to carry on with what she was trying to explain.

"Anyway, not only were eleven Death Eaters captured, but the whole world now knows that the Dark Lord is back, because Minister Fudge saw him personally, and it was primarily Fudge's reluctance to believe Harry's warning in the first place that held that up from becoming widespread knowledge."

"I still think you let off Fudge too easily with your letter, Harry," Ginny commented. "He deserved much worse than you just refusing to back his campaign."

"Letter?" Neville asked, "What Letter?"

"Don't you get the Prophet, Neville?" Ginny asked.

"We haven't done this summer," Neville noted. "Dumbledore suggested we cancel our subscription, since we were likely to be targets for the Death Eaters, and he put some sort of anti-tracking charms on the house to start with. A couple of weeks later he came back with a team of specialists, and they spend a couple of days putting up all sorts of wards to keep people away. Mind you, those two they sent after us to start with didn't exactly cause us much of a problem," he noted proudly.

Harry knew why Dumbledore had provided additional security for the Longbottom house. Both of his visions over the summer had indicated a threat to Neville, particularly the latter one, which specifically indicated that Bellatrix Lestrange would be seeking him out.

Putting that to one side, he listened to Ginny explaining to Neville that Fudge had written to Harry before the election, awarding him the Order of Merlin, Third Class, and how Harry had written back turning it down and basically accusing Fudge of trying to use him as a pawn in his re-election push.

"No way!" Neville exclaimed. "You turned down the Order of Merlin? What on earth for?"

Harry explained all the points he'd made in his letter to Fudge the issues he thought the Ministry should be dealing with rather that giving out awards.

"Damn, you didn't hold back, did you?" Neville asked in awe. "Did you ask him how much Malfoy Senior had paid to keep himself out of Azkaban?"

The carriage rocked with laughter, as Harry replied that he wished he'd thought of that too. He could only imagine the chaos there must have been in the Ministry given the people that they'd captured in the Department of Mysteries, not least Macnair, who was a Ministry employee, and Malfoy, who'd had the Minister in his pocket for years.

"I didn't even think to ask about that at the inquiry," Harry added.

"Inquiry?" Hermione asked. "What inquiry was that?"

"Didn't I mention it?" Harry replied. "Fudge had me up before a committee at the Ministry, not a full trial this time, but I could tell that he wanted to make it one. He wanted to know what we were all doing there at the Ministry, and started badmouthing me again. When I told them about trying to cast the Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix Lestrange-"

Harry didn't get any further, as he was suddenly assaulted with Neville and Luna's reactions to that particular bombshell.

"What the-"

"Oh my-"

Harry waited for them to calm down, before explaining a little more fully about what he had done, and how he had duelled with Lestrange and tried to curse her, but how it hadn't really worked all that well.

"Shame really," Neville said, with a fair amount of venom in his voice. "She could have done with getting a taste of her own medicine." Harry recalled that, not only had Neville's parents been tortured into insanity by a group of Death Eaters that had included Bellatrix Lestrange, but that she had also used the curse on Neville in the Department of Mysteries. For some reason, Hermione wasn't quite as supportive of Harry though.

"You could still get thrown into Azkaban for that," she reminded him.

"As Moody pointed out to the inquiry panel, I wasn't exactly in my right mind at the time. I'd just seen her blow Sirius back through the veil. He reckoned that even if Fudge pressed charges, he'd get laughed out of the Wizengamot, and would end up with another no confidence vote being held."

"But that's still not right, Harry," she insisted.

"I know, and I do regret it, because it was so easy just to lose my temper and curse her, but it's not the sort of thing I would do if I was fully aware of my actions. You saw my memory of what happened."

"Memory?" Neville asked, but Harry waved the question off to deal with later.

"I reckon it was pretty much fair payment for her using it on me, too, and I don't see her being charged with it, do you?" Neville asked. "Just because the Ministry can get their hands on Harry more easily, shouldn't mean that he's the one that gets fingered as the scapegoat."

"You're missing the point, Neville," Hermione replied with a touch of asperity. "Bellatrix Lestrange is already a convicted Death Eater - what are the Ministry going to do when she's already under sentence for torturing your parents? The point is that it makes Harry just as bad as the Death Eaters, that he would even consider using the curse."

"Not exactly," Neville argued. "Harry used it out of rage and grief. That's a big difference from using it in cold blood like the Death Eaters do."

"That's irrelevant, though," Hermione insisted. "The fact that he used it in anger rather than in cold blood doesn't make it any more acceptable. You can't go around torturing people out of anger - what would happen if it had been the Killing Curse he used? Dead is dead!"

"I'm not trying to justifying using Unforgivables, Hermione, I'm just pointing out that it was an understandable reaction, and that it doesn't make Harry as despicable as a Death Eater."

Harry appreciated Neville's line of thought although he still felt he shouldn't have done it, but Hermione looked unconvinced, despite the fact she had been fairly sympathetic earlier in the summer when she'd seen his memory in the Pensieve. He supposed that, several weeks removed from viewing it, there was a more dispassionate element to Hermione's analysis.

"Let me put it another way," Neville explained. "If you were driving down the road and ran someone over, perhaps you weren't paying attention or something, that would be really bad, wouldn't it?"

Hermione nodded, wondering where Neville was taking the conversation.

"But if you saw them step out in front of you, and noticed it was someone you hated, and deliberately swerved to make sure you hit them, wouldn't that be a much worse thing? Wouldn't that be classed as murder or manslaughter, rather than dangerous or reckless driving?"

"Well, yes, but..." Hermione was sure there was a logic hole in Neville's argument, but she couldn't quite find it, even with the analogy he'd provided.

"Anyway, you two, I don't have any intention of repeating the curse on anyone else, so it's okay, you're quite safe," Harry half-joked.

"I assume that none of you were asked to give evidence or anything to the inquiry?" he asked. He was sure that Hermione would have mentioned it over the phone at some point if she had, but he was anxious to hear what the others knew.

As it happened, they had only heard through the Prophet that there was going to be an inquiry, and they certainly hadn't had a letter like Harry's, demanding their presence to testify.

He wondered whether it had all just been another of Fudge's ploys to get back at him for refusing the Order of Merlin, or if, after the debacle that his hearing had turned into and the argument between Fudge and the other two panel members, any further investigations had been held up.

The train continued its journey northwards, speeding through the countryside, and once everyone had settled down, the discussion of the inquiry reminded Harry that he needed to speak to Susan Bones. Although her Aunt had been quite sympathetic towards him during his questioning, and had defended him when Fudge wanted to put him on trial for using the Cruciatus curse, she had still lost her chance of becoming Minister of Magic, partly as a result of Harry's letter to Fudge, and Harry thought that he at least ought to seek out Susan and apologise.

He stepped out into the corridor of the train and made his way down the carriages, greeting those that he recognised in the compartments he looked into as he searched for the sixth year Hufflepuff. About a third of the way along the train though, he was faced with Malfoy climbing out of one of the restrooms and heading towards him.

Much as though he would have liked to have turned back to avoid a further confrontation with the Slytherin, Harry wasn't about to run away, certainly not when Malfoy had already spotted him and was striding towards him with a vengeful sneer upon his lips.

"So, Potter, you've made the mistake of leaving your little hidey-hole where your friends can defend you."

"Did you want something, Malfoy?"

"Oh, I think teaching you a lesson would be nice. You need to learn some respect for your betters for once in your life," the blond boy spat.

"Malfoy, the day I consider you my better will be the day the devil skates to work. Now, either say what you have to say or get out of my way."

"Oh no, I don't think so, Potter. This is one time that you're not going to get away scot-free like you usually do. Crabbe! Goyle!"

Harry had been preoccupied with Malfoy and for once hadn't seen the lumbering forms of Malfoy's two goons coming up behind him. They grabbed him by the arms and held him tightly as Malfoy rifled through his pockets and took his wand away.

"Not so clever now, are you Potter," he said with a snarl, drawing his arm back and punching him in the stomach.

Harry doubled over, and it was only because Crabbe and Goyle were still holding him by the arms that he kept from falling on the floor at Malfoy's feet, which would have been even more humiliating than his present predicament.

Malfoy pocketed Harry's wand and drew his own, holding it right up under his victim's nose threateningly.

"See, you don't look so powerful now, do you? The high and mighty Potter, finally brought down to earth by Draco Malfoy. Oh, I've been waiting for this day for a long, long time."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled grimly at their leader's words and tightened their grip on Harry's arms, hauling him fully to his feet.

"Now, you'll do exactly as I tell you. Imperio!

Harry was shocked at Malfoy's willingness to use an Unforgivable curse in the midst of so many students on the Hogwarts Express, but that didn't stop him fighting the curse.

As he had done in the Defence class where the fake Moody had first exposed him to it and in his duel with Voldemort, Harry did his best to ignore the compulsion that Malfoy was placing upon him.

'Bow to me, Potter,' the voice in his head told him, and Harry wasn't sure whether it was his natural resistance to the curse or humour at the thought of Malfoy trying to get him to do what Voldemort had failed to with the Imperius that made him laugh at the attempt.

"I'll never bow to you, Malfoy," he responded grimly. "Using an Unforgivable won't make any difference to that."

Malfoy looked a little startled that Harry had resisted his curse, and his rage started to take over.

"Is that right, Potter? Well we'll soon see about that. How do you like a taste of pain instead? Crucio!"

Somehow, Harry tore his arms out of the grasp of Crabbe and Goyle, and ducked underneath the spot where Malfoy's spell had been aimed as it shot harmlessly over his shoulder.

'Why is it that none of the other students are around to witness Malfoy using Unforgivables?' Harry thought to himself idly, as he pushed the two ape-like Slytherins away from him.

Without a wand he was powerless to defend himself against whatever Malfoy chose to hit him with, and he was sure it wouldn't be long before it was the Killing Curse, the way that Malfoy's frustrated face was set.

"So you want to play, Potter?" Malfoy leered, as Crabbe and Goyle one again took a firm grip on Harry's shoulders. "Such a shame that you haven't got a wand, isn't it?" he said drawing Harry's wand from his pocket and stepping back, tossing it gently to himself in the air.

Harry was suddenly struck with a thought. If he could just time it right, he might really be able to mess with Malfoy's mind. He watched as Malfoy tossed his wand up and down, taunting him by keeping it just out of his reach, so that every time Harry tried to make a grab for it, he came up with thin air instead.

It didn't take long for the right moment to arrive. Malfoy had tossed Harry's wand and as it fell back into his hand, he was actually holding it pointed towards himself.

"Incendio!" Harry screamed, allowing his temper to get the better of him for once, and using his frustration at Malfoy getting the better of him to provide the maximum possible impulse to the spell.

Malfoy's face initially burst into a sneer, no doubt about to make some comment about wandless magic not being possible once you'd got past the age of eleven, but the sneer suddenly turned to horror as Harry's wand flashed a huge gout of flame straight at his stomach.

Malfoy screamed, and dropped both Harry's wand and his own as he turned and fled back down the corridor toward the washroom he'd recently emerged from him, his robes all ablaze around him, sending black smoke trickling into the air.

He yanked on the door of the washroom, screaming blue murder, but the washroom door wouldn't budge. Crabbe and Goyle had forgotten about Harry and released him as they saw Malfoy's robes go up in flames. They charged down the corridor after Malfoy, but failed to come to a halt as Malfoy was tugging on the unresponsive door and barrelled straight into him, knocking him to the ground.

This did at least have the effect of helping to smother the flames, since the combined bulk of Crabbe and Goyle stopped any oxygen getting to the fire, but Harry watched in amusement at Malfoy struggled to disentangle himself from his cohorts.

He removed his cloak and stamped on it to put out the remaining flames.

In the meantime, Harry wandered and picked up the two wands that Malfoy had dropped. He sauntered over to where the three Slytherins were stood glaring at him.

"Doesn't it look a little different now?" he asked them rhetorically, pointing both wands at Malfoy.

"How did you do that, Potter?" he demanded.

"Just a little trick, you might say," Harry smirked. "Now run along back to your compartment. I'll drop your wand in to you in half an hour or so."

"Give it back now, Potter."

"Or what? You don't seem to understand that you're not exactly in a position to be giving orders, Malfoy, do you? You're not part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad now, remember?"

Crabbe and Goyle started forwards, but Harry waved them back with a quick motion of one of the wands, and they turned back to look at Malfoy with uncertainty in their eyes. Clearly he hadn't overestimated their intelligence: neither of them had even thought to draw their own wands at any point during the whole fracas.

Malfoy gave him a malevolent glare over his shoulder as he turned away and slunk down the corridor, with an unspoken promise that this wouldn't be forgotten. Crabbe and Goyle shrugged and followed him, with nothing better to do.

Harry waited a short while until he was sure they had moved out of earshot, and muttered to himself. "Idiot!" he grumbled. "I should have thought of that sooner."

"Probably," came an unexpected voice out of mid-air that Harry recognised as the unmistakable growl of Mad-eye Moody. "You do get yourself into some scrapes, don't you Potter?"

"Well you could have given me a hand," he protested.

"Wanted to see first hand how you coped with it," Moody barked. "Lost your wand, getting beaten up, eh?"

"Yeah, and the stinking git tried to use Unforgivables on me too," Harry reminded, though he could think of much nastier words to call Malfoy, which he might have used had he less respect for the aged ex-Auror. "I didn't see you stopping him."

"I'm not to interfere, Dumbledore said," Moody told him. "Though if the Cruciatus had hit you I'd've delivered him up to the Ministry myself."

"I thought you were of the 'shoot first, ask questions later' school?" Harry questioned, but Moody just grunted and indicated that Harry should get on with whatever it was he was doing and try and keep out of any further trouble.

He shook his head in disbelief and set off back along the corridor to unearth the sixth-year Hufflepuffs.

He finally found the compartment that Susan was sharing with Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hannah Abbott, and was pleasantly surprised at the welcome he received. Once again there were questions about whether he would be continuing with the DA, but Harry avoided giving a definite answer for the time being, simply noting that others had asked the same question, and he wasn't sure whether the need would be so great if the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was any good.

The Hufflepuffs protested that they had learned so much more from Harry than they'd expected and tried to convince him that he should continue with it and get Dumbledore's approval, but Harry still wasn't sure that he'd have time to fit it in along with all the other distractions he'd have this year. He was very pleased though to hear that all four of them had achieved "Outstanding" grades on their OWL for the subject, though they insisted that it was down to his teaching, rather than their own ability, and this sent Harry off into a bit of a blush at all the praise.

Eventually, he got round to the subject that he'd intended to broach: his apology to Susan for the impact his letter to Minister Fudge had dealt to her Aunt's candidature for Minister, but Susan was quite blasé about it, to Harry's relief. She told him that, although her aunt had felt she was well-qualified for the job, and that she would have done a much better job than Fudge, it wasn't something that she craved, and to some extent she was relieved that the family didn't have to get put through the stresses that the job would bring.

Susan had also heard about the inquiry, and when he told the Hufflepuffs about it, she was pretty scathing about what Fudge had been trying to do in terms of discrediting Harry.

"Aunt Amelia came home in a really bad mood that day and had spent ages yelling about what an idiot Fudge is!" she reported

Susan recited the story with a fair amount of glee, and Harry was pleased that she didn't have a grudge against him for the unintended consequences of his rejection of the Order of Merlin. Even though he'd never really been all that close to any of the Hufflepuffs, it was nice to know that they trusted him and were still supporting him over the Ministry as the majority of them had done the previous year when he had set up the DA.

After spending about half an hour with the Hufflepuffs, longer than he'd really ever spent with them socially at one time when he thought about it, he made his excuses and headed off back down the train to his own compartment, stopping only briefly when he spotted Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy sitting with Pansy Parkinson to throw Malfoy's wand at him. He received some nasty glares from that carriage, but ignored them and continued on his way.

As he neared the carriage where he'd left Ron and the others, he was half-bowled over by the unexpected opening of an adjacent carriage door. Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe burst out of the carriage and ran straight into Harry as he avoided the sharp edges of the doorframe.

"Oh Harry, I'm really sorry," Cho apologised as she helped him up, her Head Girl badge prominent on the lapel of her robes. "I wasn't looking where I was going. These idiot second years were telling all sorts of improbably stories about two students casting Unforgivables at each other in the train corridor and setting each other on fire. Really, you'd think they'd learn not to spread such ridiculous rumours!"

Harry decided not to mention that the rumours were actually true, since that would mean getting involved in a lengthy explanation and he preferred to deal with Malfoy personally, rather than getting the Head Girl and teachers involved, which would almost certainly be the case if he ever mentioned it to anyone outside of his own little group.

"It's okay, Cho," Harry responded. "Congratulations, by the way," he added nodding at her badge.

"Oh thanks," she said awkwardly, then sighed. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked, seemingly more to herself than to Harry.

"Sorry?"

She blushed a little and sighed again a little sadly.

"I mean ... I'm sorry about how things ... turned out ... last year, Harry. I don't know whether to be mad at you for defending Hermione's little trick on Marietta," she said, indicating the girl behind her, who was rather conspicuously wearing a Moslem-like yashmak to cover the pimples on her face, "or to be proud of what you achieved with the DA and in getting Fudge to acknowledge that You-know-Who is actually back.

"I like you a lot, Harry, I'm just not sure that I'm cut out for the sort of lifestyle that you seem to lead, and all the trouble you get involved in," she said softly.

He looked at Cho with sympathy. The butterflies that had seemed to develop in his stomach the past few years when he saw Cho didn't stir now, and he wondered whether he'd simply moved past the crush he'd had on her, even though he could still appreciate that she was a very pretty girl.

"It's alright, Cho," he replied, "I'm not exactly the easiest person to deal with sometimes and I know that I wasn't really ready for a girlfriend last year. Maybe in a few years time we'll look back at last year and laugh at ourselves, but for now I just have too much other stuff on my mind."

She looked at Harry with a renewed sense of appreciation, given his mature response.

"Thanks for understanding, Harry. I didn't want to give you any false hopes or anything. To be honest, I still don't think I'm over what happened to Cedric and I didn't really do you any favours last year," she admitted quietly.

"Don't worry," he told her. "I'm sure everything will be better in time. It just ... takes a while."

He looked over Cho's shoulder at Marietta as well. "I'll have a word with Hermione about that curse, and see what we can do."

Marietta's eyes widened, and she looked as though she wanted to jump on Harry in thanks, though she would have had to push her friend aside to get to him, as Cho gave him a brief hug.

"Thanks very much, Harry," Marietta said gratefully. "I'd really appreciate that. I didn't know whether you could forgive me for betraying you last year. I'm really sorry. Cho told me how angry you were after all the steps you'd taken to keep from being found out, but I couldn't stand it, with that hag Umbridge pestering us all the time."

"It's okay, Marietta," Harry reassured her. "I should have realised that not everyone would have had the same commitment to proving her wrong that I did, that you didn't have nearly so much at stake. I'm sorry that we had to start the club in the first place, but that was Umbridge's fault, not yours.

"And Cho? I'm sorry I got so angry with you about it. I know you were defending your friend and I was defending mine, but I shouldn't have let my temper get away with me like that. It proved my undoing so many times last year, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry too that it didn't work out between us, but if you're okay with it, I'd like us still to be friends?"

Cho nodded and hugged him again. "Of course, Harry. Not that it means I can let you get away with getting into all sorts of trouble, now that I'm Head Girl, though," she teased him.

Harry stepped back in mock-offence. "Me? Trouble?"

"Yes, you," she answered, rolling her eyes at his little act. "Anyway, get back to your carriage, and I'll see you around sometime, okay?"

Harry nodded and started off past them, back to join the others, though not before Marietta grabbed him and gave him a rather one-sided hug as he passed, which surprised him a little but wasn't exactly unpleasant.

Returning to his own compartment, Harry found Ron, Neville, Hermione and Ginny in an enthusiastic debate about the prospects of Gryffindor's Quidditch team this year. Angelina and Alicia had left at the end of the previous year, which meant that the team would at least need two Chasers. Everyone assumed that Katie Bell had been made captain of the team, since neither of them nor Harry, had mentioned hearing from McGonagall about the captaincy.

Harry watched as the four of them continued their argument, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd returned, though Luna looked up at his entrance and smiled, then returned her gaze to the magazine she was reading. Ron was arguing that Harry would resume his role as Seeker, which had been denied him the previous year by Umbridge's manipulations, but Ginny was vehemently defending her right as incumbent to the spot.

The tension between Ron and Hermione at Harry's birthday party at The Burrow had clearly dissipated as the two of them were most definitely talking to one another now, even if was only to argue. Harry figured this meant things were back to normal between them, at least for now.

Finally Hermione looked up, sighing lustily at the way that Ginny and Ron in particular were arguing, even if it was about Gryffindor and her best friends were involved. Seeing Harry in the doorway, she winked at him then stoked the fire that was raging in Ron a little higher.

"Don't you think we should wait to see if Harry actually wants to carry on in the team, before we start speculating about what position everyone's going to fill?" she asked.

"What?" Ron burst out. "Of course Harry will want to play Seeker! He loves Quidditch. I don't care if you're my sister, Ginny, if Harry wants the Seeker spot, it should go to him, he deserves it!"

Nice though it was to hear such support from Ron, Harry could almost kick Hermione for trying to wind him up about Quidditch. She knew how seriously he took it. Meanwhile Ginny was starting to look grumpy at Ron's continued insistence that she'd be thrown off the team as soon as Harry wanted to play.

"Hey, relax guys," Harry said, startling Ron, Ginny and Neville out of their argument. "We don't even know if I'll be allowed to play. As far as I know Umbridge's ban is still in effect," he reminded them, a little dour at the prospect of another year without any Quidditch. Despite having been on the team since his first year, Harry had actually only played eight competitive matches, largely due to factors outside his control.

Of course this prompted another expressive outburst from Ron at the unfairness of Umbridge's ban and how he was sure it would be rescinded as soon as they got back to school, which of course helped restore Ginny's mood a little.

"Anyway, if there's more than one candidate for each position, I'm sure Katie will hold try-outs to get the best team," Harry pointed out before Ron got too deeply entrenched in his rant. "If she picks Ginny over me, then maybe I'll try out for Chaser as well. I mean, I love playing Seeker, but if I'm good enough to play Chaser and Ginny's better than me at Seeker, then it all works out for the best, doesn't it?"

Ginny smiled up at him, but Ron looked a little bemused by Harry's decision, since he'd been sure that his friend would want his spot back at Seeker, but he was confident that Harry would win the spot in any try-out, and said so.

Harry just shrugged. "I think we need to worry more about the Beaters, to be honest, I didn't see much of the last game, but unless Kirke and Sloper have improved, I can't see them providing us with much in the way of defence."

To Harry's surprise, Ron told him that they'd been talking about the Beater spots while he'd been out, and that Neville had suggested he might try out. He'd apparently been practicing his flying over the summer and found that, with a little bit of confidence, it was far easier than he'd initially thought. In short, the kid that fell off his broomstick and broke his wrist in Gryffindor's first flying lesson was long gone, replaced by a boy that felt he could hold his own in the air, and was sure enough of himself to swing a Beater's bat.

Harry looked forward to seeing Neville's improved flying skills and, hopefully, getting some better Beaters on the team, but he was distracted from Quidditch by Ginny questioning him where he'd been all this time.

He explained about going to apologise to Susan and how she'd been perfectly alright with him, and they'd chatted for a bit with the Hufflepuffs, and he gave a somewhat edited version of his confrontation with Malfoy, leaving out any mention of Unforgivables.

They all laughed at Harry's description of Malfoy's robes catching alight, and how the two lumbering idiots he used for protection managed to smother the flames and squash the blond Slytherin at the same time. He decided not to mention his conversation with Cho - he thought he'd better speak to Hermione privately about Marietta's little problem: no doubt she would be vocally against Harry's proposed sympathetic approach.

The rest of the trip was uneventful as the six of them chatted about the forthcoming school year and in more detail about what they had done over the holidays, and the sun set off to the west. The train arrived at Hogsmeade station and they all disembarked, most of the school to continue up to the castle in the Thestral-pulled carriages, whilst the first years took their traditional journey across the lake with Hagrid, who waved a brief greeting to Harry and the others as he gathered the new students around him, and offered a quick warning for them to keep out of trouble, which made Harry smile.

There was no sign of Malfoy or any of the other sixth year Slytherins, for which Harry was grateful. He hoped that they had elected to ignore him, rather than tempt a further demonstration of Harry's abilities, though he would have preferred to keep his remote casting under wraps.

Instead, Harry sat back in the carriage and looked forward to another year at Hogwarts, in the hope that it would be significantly less troubled than the last had been.