Harry Potter and the Missing Memories

Chapter 6

Pasties and Prefects

Molly Weasley spotted Harry in the distance as he walked towards her, and smiled and waved to him cheerily.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here, Harry. I was quite worried you wouldn't be able to arrange any transport," she said, giving him a motherly hug, which Harry gratefully received. It was still felt very strange to be hugged, but it was a welcome feeling too. "Arthur will be relieved too - he was quite prepared to drop everything at the office to come and fetch you, but Dumbledore didn't seem to think it necessary. Now, here are your books and supplies."

Mrs Weasley handed Harry two large bags, containing his school books, a couple of new black robes (Harry had outgrown the ones he had worn the previous year) and an assortment of wrapped brown packages, which Harry assumed contained his potions supplies and stationery. She also handed him a money pouch.

"Thanks very much," he replied, carefully stowing money pouch in his pocket and the bags in the basket at the back of the station trolley. He decided it wouldn't be wise to put them in his trunk here, in view of everyone else in the station. That would wait until he was safely on the train. "Where's Ron?"

"The others have already gone through the barrier, Harry dear. They'll be waiting for you on the train. Shall we go and find them?"

They walked casually along platform nine, then drifted towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. The usual Muggle trains, people and noises disappeared behind them, and the familiar scarlet steam engine materialised before their eyes as they passed through the apparently solid barrier onto platform nine and three-quarters. This really was second nature to Harry now. He smiled as he remembered how he'd had to shut his eyes and run fast the first time he had done it.

Platform nine and three-quarters was crowded with Hogwarts students of all shapes and sizes, hundreds of them, saying goodbye to parents and struggling to get their trunks up the steps into the carriages. Here and there Harry could see small unfamiliar faces, very obviously first-years, looking about them wide-eyed, a mixture of excitement and trepidation written on their faces. On top of the hum of the children's voices were the hoots of numerous owls and the complaining sounds of cats that were objecting loudly to being kept in baskets and cages.

"They should be down the far end somewhere," said Mrs Weasley, straining to see over the heads of the people round them. "They wanted to get good seats."

Harry looked too and eventually spotted Ron's bright red hair gleaming in the sunlight about two-thirds of the way down the platform. Pushing his trolley ahead of him, Harry ploughed a path through the throng towards him, Mrs Weasley following in his wake.

As he approached, he saw not just Ron, but also Ginny, Fred, George and Hermione, all standing together. As soon as she saw him, Hermione waved and ran up to meet him, her face glowing with excitement.

"Harry! Good to see you!" she said breathlessly. "You'll never guess what - I'm a Prefect!" She eagerly showed Harry the silver badge she was wearing.

Harry smiled. "That's great, Hermione, congratulations." He didn't say it, but he was hardly surprised that Hermione had been made a prefect. Conscientious, hard-working, she was the obvious choice.

Then he turned to Ron, who had got even taller over the summer, if that were possible. He was now almost six feet tall, and Harry was very conscious of how he had to crane his neck to look up at him.

"'Right there, Ron?" he said, looking up at his best friend.

"Yeah, fine, Harry," Ron replied grinning down at him.

"So what's this news that you couldn't tell me before?" Harry asked, voicing the question he had been longing to ask for the last ten days.

Ron's ears went pink, and he pursed his lips tightly together looking slightly embarrassed. Then he silently pulled back the edge of his jacket to reveal a gleaming silver badge emblazoned with the letter P.

"You're a prefect too?" asked Harry, staring at the badge. Ron nodded. This wasn't what Harry had expected. Hermione as a prefect, yes, but Ron...

"Ah yes, ickle Ronnekins has defected to the Dark Side," said George, nodding seriously.

"But we just know he'll go easy on his big brothers. You wouldn't turn us in, would you Ronnie?" said Fred, sidling up to Ron and linking arms with him.

"Gerroff!" Ron shook Fred off his arm, scowling, his ears going even redder. "It's an honour to be a prefect and I intend to do a good job at it." Hermione nodded approvingly.

"We're very proud of him," said Mrs Weasley to Harry, stepping forward to straighten Ron's jacket again. "Now you'd better get on that train if you want to all sit together."

"Yeah, come on guys, let's go," said Ron, turning and ushering them all towards the carriage door.

"Yes, P-P-P-Percy!" smirked Fred, as he swung himself quickly up onto the train out of Ron's reach.

Once on the train, Fred and George decided it would be a bit of a squeeze to fit all of them in one carriage and headed off to find their friend Lee Jordan. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny found an empty carriage to themselves and carefully stowed their things for the daylong journey ahead of them. Then Ginny remembered something she had forgotten to ask her mother and left to find Mrs Weasley again.

"So how was the rest of your summer, after your party, I mean?" asked Ron, slumping down into the seat opposite Harry.

"Could've been a lot worse," Harry replied. He then proceeded to tell them about Dudley's strange behaviour over the summer and about his help in getting a taxi to the station. The only thing he didn't tell them was the name of the girl who had been writing to Dudley - Harry figured that one would be best left until he was more certain of his facts. They listened intently as he also told them about his continued visits to Arabella Figg's house over the summer and the attack on her the previous Friday.

"I hope she's okay," said Hermione, frowning. "But fancy her watching out for you all those years without you knowing."

"I asked Dad if he'd heard of her when we got the invitation to your party," said Ron. "He said that she and Dumbledore go way back - apparently she was working with him when he defeated Grindelwald in 1945. She's also worked at the Ministry in the past, in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"That makes sense," commented Harry. "She's got quite a way with animals, especially cats."

A whistle blew outside on the platform, the last doors slammed shut and the train began to move. Ginny reappeared, gave one last wave to Mrs Weasley at the window and sat down quietly opposite Hermione. Harry thought they'd better change the subject. Even though Ginny was Ron's sister, there were a lot of things the three of them never discussed in front of her. It just didn't seem right somehow.

"What have you been up to this summer that's kept you so busy you couldn't write to me then?" Harry asked Ron.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that," Ron replied. "Fred and George are really serious about opening this joke shop of theirs next summer. They've even managed to talk Mum round to the idea. It appears they've even found someone stupid enough to invest some money in it, you know, for rent, stock and stuff. So I've spent most of the summer helping them with their research."

"But you only helped them because of the classy dress robes they bought you, Ron," said Ginny. "You wouldn't have done it otherwise."

"I would!" retorted Ron, his ears going pink again.

Typical Ron, thought Harry, being too proud to accept a gift without doing something in return. He was glad to hear the twins had kept their end of the bargain and bought the dress robes for him though.

"What about you then, Hermione? Did you have a good holiday?" Harry asked, turning his attention to her.

"Fine thanks, Harry," she replied with a small smile.

"Where did you go this year?"

Hermione looked down at her hands in her lap, as she replied, "Oh, I went on a tour of Eastern Europe, to Bulgaria and Romania."

Harry noticed that Ron was scowling, his arms now folded and his neck as pink as his ears.

"Unusual place to go for a holiday, isn't it? What did you do there?" Harry enquired further.

"My parents and I spent the first week at a resort on the Black Sea coast in Romania," she answered, not looking up, "and then we went down to Bulgaria for a few days, to Viktor's castle..."

"Flat-footed Russian git," muttered Ron under his breath, his face like thunder.

Hermione's head snapped up sharply. "He's Bulgarian, not Russian," she retorted hotly, her eyes narrowed. "And it's my business how I spend my holidays, not yours. It happened to be culturally very interesting."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, I can just imagine: 'vood you like to see my etchings, Herm-ow-ninny?'" he said sarcastically, trying to imitate Krum's accent and failing miserably.

Harry was now regretting having asked the question. This was obviously a sore point, and he could tell from the resigned look on Ginny's face that it was just the latest round in an ongoing dispute.

Hermione was temporarily speechless, evidently searching for a suitably cutting reply, when Ginny broke in: "Shouldn't you two be in the Prefects' Compartment anyway?"

Hermione looked at her watch in alarm. "Good grief, I'd forgotten about that! We're supposed to be at our introductory meeting about now. Come on, Ron, or we'll be late."

She headed for the door in haste and disappeared towards the front of the train.

"We'll try and get back when the meeting's finished," Ron said to Harry, as he sulkily followed after her, the colour slowly subsiding from his face.

"What was all that about?" Harry asked Ginny after they were out of sight.

"They've been bickering for the whole of the last fortnight," Ginny replied, "and everyone at home's got really fed up with them. Every time Hermione mentions her holiday, Ron goes up the wall about it. He slags off Viktor Krum and accuses Hermione of being a traitor - you know, fraternising with the enemy and all that. Doesn't seem to matter how often she says they're 'just friends', Ron doesn't seem to believe her."

Ginny leaned forward towards Harry and lowered her voice to a whisper. "The worst bit was last week, when Ron asked if Viktor had thrown a nice tea party to introduce her to You-Know-Who. Hermione was really upset, and they were still yelling at each other half an hour later, when Mum stepped in. Dad was livid about it - told Ron he was being very insensitive, especially with all that's been happening recently. He banned them from talking about holidays or Viktor Krum for the rest of the hols."

"So it was silly of me to bring it up," said Harry. "Sorry."

"You weren't to know," Ginny replied, giving him a small smile.

Harry could see that this new term wasn't going to be that straightforward if Ron and Hermione were at each other's throats all the time. But then, were things ever straightforward where the three of them were concerned? There seemed to be periods in every year to date when one of them wasn't talking to one or both of the other two. In the first year, it had been Hermione not talking to both him and Ron, though that had been before they really knew her; and last year it had been Ron not talking to Harry. He could just picture what the long, stony silences in the Gryffindor common room would be like if Ron and Hermione weren't talking to each other. Then magnify it ten-fold with them both being Prefects. God help any poor unsuspecting first years that crossed their path mid-argument - Gryffindor would be in negative points in no time!

Harry gazed out of the window for a while, watching the fields and towns whizz by. He wasn't used to being on the Hogwarts Express without Ron and Hermione to talk to, and it felt quite lonely. Ginny was nice enough, but he'd never really talked to her properly one to one. In fact, that last conversation had probably been the most she'd ever said to him without blushing or running off. Still, he thought he'd better make the most of it.

"So Ginny, apart from those two arguing, how was your summer?" he asked to break the silence.

"It was okay, I suppose," Ginny replied, reddening slightly, "hardly any schoolwork, nice weather and all that. But it did get a bit boring. Ron was shut up in Fred and George's room helping them out with their inventing most of the time, Bill and Charlie weren't around at all, and Dad and Percy have been really busy at work. They often had to go into the office at weekends as well. So that just left me and Mum. I love my Mum to pieces, but she can be ... well, let's just say I'll be glad to get back to school and see my friends."

Harry found it strange to think that Ginny could be surrounded by such a large family and yet still feel lonely. Probably had something to do with being the only girl.

"You did get away for a few days though, didn't you?" said Harry, remembering why he hadn't been able to go to The Burrow back in July.

"Yes, to Aunt Maggie's in Wales," she nodded. "It was a good time - it was nice to have some different company. Pity we don't see them more really. They've got five kids, all girls, and all younger than me. The eldest, Violet, is coming to Hogwarts this year. I saw her with a group of other first-years near the other end of the train. We're all hoping she'll be in Gryffindor as well."

There was another awkward silence.

"How's Percy these days?" Harry asked, starting to feel like some sort of interrogator. "You said he's been rather busy over the summer. Not still measuring cauldron bottoms, is he?"

Ginny smiled and shook her head. "No. After that business with Mr Crouch last year Percy felt he was under suspicion, as though he'd somehow been involved with what went on. He stuck it out for a month or so hoping things would improve, but then someone got promoted over him, and he took it really personally. He moved departments four weeks ago. Dad put in a word for him and got him a post in the Department of Magical Transportation, on the Floo Regulation Panel. He's still settling in, but it should suit him down to the ground - you know what a stickler he is for regulations!"

Harry smiled. She was right; anything to do with rules and regulations was right up Percy's street.

Just then the compartment door opened, and Harry's fellow fifth year Gryffindor Neville Longbottom popped his head round it.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked nervously.

"Of course not, come in," said Ginny, looking glad of the extra company.

Neville shut the door and sat down in the seat opposite Harry next to the window. As he did so, Harry saw Crabbe and Goyle sidle along the corridor and glare into the compartment at Neville.

"Have those two goons been bothering you?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," answered Neville gloomily. "Malfoy's in some prefects meeting. They were at a loose end, so it looks like they decided I was fair sport. I've been trying to avoid them ever since the train left Kings Cross."

Crabbe and Goyle had stopped short of coming into the compartment and were hanging around outside the door. Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and began to polish it carefully, glancing significantly at the two of them out of the corner of his eye. The memory of their journey home the previous summer was obviously still clear in their minds. Harry saw Goyle gulp and nudge Crabbe with his elbow, then the two of them headed off back down the corridor.

"Thanks," Neville said with a sigh of relief.

"I think I'd better make sure they've really gone," said Harry, getting to his feet, wand still in hand. He fancied stretching his legs anyway.

He went down the corridor in the direction Crabbe and Goyle had gone, passing compartment on compartment of Hogwarts students, some still in Muggle clothes, others already in their robes, all chatting happily. Crabbe and Goyle had stopped further down the corridor, but at the sight of Harry they set off again away from him, eventually disappearing into a compartment.

Satisfied that they had now given up on Neville, Harry pocketed his wand and stopped to look out of the window. The sky, which had been a brilliant blue when they had left London, was now a stony grey, with even darker clouds looming on the horizon. He couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding, as if the coming storm clouds somehow mirrored what was in store for him this year. His relief at getting away from Privet Drive, his feeling of going home to Hogwarts, was waning with the growing recollection that he did have enemies in this world of magic where anything seemed to be possible. And plenty of them. Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy, the Death Eaters, Voldemort himself. He had been so looking forward to getting back here, to where he belonged, that he had forgotten what a precarious place it could be. Cedric Diggory. His hands tightened around the rail, as the memory of the Champion's lifeless face passed before his eyes.

The tinkle of the lunch trolley broke into his thoughts. He turned and looked down the corridor towards the sound, and his stomach lurched and knotted at the sight of a familiar petite figure with long, flowing raven hair. Cho.

She was standing with a group of Ravenclaw sixth year girls, looking at the food on the trolley. So pretty, thought Harry as he stood staring at her. Yet she looked pale and drawn; the smile that usually made her face light up was missing. Then a wave of guilt hit him. Of course she wasn't alright - Cedric's death affected her almost as much as it affected him. She must have had a terrible summer. Why, oh why hadn't he taken Sirius' advice and written to her? Now here he stood, wishing he could just go up and talk to her and warm his heart on the brightness of her smile, but knowing there was a huge wall of pain separating them.

Cho glanced up, saw him staring at her and quickly looked down at the trolley again, biting her bottom lip. Transaction completed, she turned to head back to her compartment with the rest of her group, her head still bowed. Then she paused, turned slightly, and for a fraction of a second her eyes met his. She gave a small sad smile and raised her hand in a half-wave. Harry raised his hand to reciprocate the wave, but couldn't bring himself to smile. Cho dropped her gaze again, turned back and walked away.

Harry stood there for a moment, his hand still in mid-air, and watched her go. The sadness he had seen in her face felt like a lead weight in his chest, his self-doubt starting to gnaw at him again. He had caused this pain, inflicted this sadness on her. If only he had touched that Cup before Cedric...

Then Sirius' words from their talk on his birthday came back to him: 'Hindsight can be a terrible thing, and none of us ever get to know what would really have happened if one bit changed. No one is blaming you for this, Harry, not in the least.' That brief smile Cho had just given him showed that she at least was not holding it against him. But would they ever be able to get over this barrier between them?

"Would you like anything from the trolley, dearie?"

Harry started, hastily lowered his hand and shoved it into his pocket. The lunch trolley had reached him, and the witch pushing it was looking expectantly at him. Hardly surprising as he and Ron were some of her best customers. He studied the contents of the trolley, chose a selection of sweets, cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties and gave her a handful of silver Sickles and bronze Knuts in exchange.

As he reached his compartment, he saw Ron and Hermione coming back from the Prefects' Meeting.

"I was beginning to think you two were going to stay in the Prefects' Compartment all day," Harry said as they approached him.

"We wouldn't desert you, Harry," replied Hermione.

"Especially when you're the one with the supplies," added Ron, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Harry's purchases.

They settled in their compartment with Neville and Ginny and made a start on the pasties, supplemented with Mrs Weasley's usual supply of corned beef sandwiches.

"I gather Malfoy's been made a Prefect," said Harry with a frown. "Who else is there?"

"You know how they choose two from each year from fifth year upwards?" answered Hermione, "And how those people usually remain as Prefects for three years? Well, this year because of Cedric, they've chosen an extra Prefect for Hufflepuff, to make up the numbers."

"Yeah, there's Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott and Ernie MacMillan," said Ron, his mouth half-full of pumpkin pasty. "There's also Pansy Parkinson for Slytherin, and Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst for Ravenclaw."

"What about the Head Boy and Girl?" asked Neville.

"Penelope Clearwater's the Head Girl," said Hermione.

"Percy'll be really pleased about that," grinned Ginny. "They're still an item."

"And Roger Davies is Head Boy," Hermione continued.

"Two Ravenclaws," commented Harry. "That hardly seems fair."

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances and looked slightly awkward.

"Well," said Hermione slowly, her voice lowered, "it was supposed to be Cedric Diggory..."

"Ah," said Harry flatly. This certainly wasn't the day for burying skeletons.

The five of them spent the rest of the afternoon playing chess and Exploding Snap. As twilight drew in and the scenery outside became more mountainous, the train began to slow down. They changed into their Hogwarts robes and packed away the games and remaining sweets just in time for the train to pull into Hogsmeade station.

They disembarked onto the platform, which was crowded with students. Harry looked up and down, expecting to see Hagrid's figure looming out of the semi-darkness as usual, but he couldn't see him. Then there was a piercing blast on a whistle, and they heard a voice say, "First years, this way please. Hurry along now." That definitely wasn't Hagrid's voice.

Harry, being fairly small for his age, couldn't see who it was over the heads of the other students. "Who's calling the first years?" he asked Ron.

Ron, being that much taller, peered effortlessly over the sea of heads. "It's Madam Hooch," he replied. "Wonder what's happened to Hagrid?"

They managed to get a horseless carriage for all five of them for the journey to the school without any trouble. In no time they were once more walking up the steps of the castle, through the entrance hall and taking their seats in the Great Hall for the Start of Year Feast.

"Remember," said Hermione to Ron as they made their way to the Gryffindor table, "we've got to sit near the front of the table but leave enough room for the new first years."

"Yes Hermione, I remember," replied Ron wearily. "Hope the Sorting doesn't take too long - I'm famished."

Soon the Great Hall was bustling with the noise and chatter of hundreds of hungry students, and the teachers' table was filling up too. Harry noted with some concern that Hagrid's seat remained empty. Professor Vector and tiny Professor Flitwick were deep in conversation, and Professor Dumbledore was sitting quietly watching the hall fill up. Professor Snape was also there at the end of the table furthest from Harry, his pale, sallow face as impassive as ever. He was talking to a witch that Harry did not recognise. Harry tried to get a good look at her, but her back was turned to him, so all he could see was that she was petite, with long, black hair that was pulled back and braided.

The doors to the Great Hall opened once more, and Professor McGonagall entered, leading in a line of small awed first years, their eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as they took in their new surroundings. She led them to the front, where they stood uncertainly, as she took a three-legged stool and placed it in the centre in front of the teachers' table. Then she took an ancient, tatty-looking wizard's hat from the staff table and put it down on the stool. The hat was perfectly still for a few moments, then a wide tear near the brim of the hat opened, and it began to sing:

'For centuries I've sorted,

And this has been my quest:

To match each brain and aptitude

With the house that suits it best.

No other hat could ever match

My skill in this Great Hall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I'm heads above them all.

For those who are gallant,

It's Gryffindor for you

The fearless and the valiant

The noble and the true

In Ravenclaw the scholarly

Both sense and reason find

Intelligence and acumen

In the inquiring mind.

The hard-working are destined for Hufflepuff

The enduring, the steadfast and sure

Their persistent travails always made

From motives strong and pure.

In canny Slytherin are those

With eager aspiration.

Their perceptiveness is ever matched

With artful calculation.

So pick me up and try me on

And quickly you will see

Me look inside and then decide

Which house you ought to be.'

The students and teachers clapped and cheered as the Sorting Hat finished its song.

"I think I preferred last year's song," Harry whispered to Ron.

"I dunno, it wasn't that bad," replied Ron, still clapping.

Professor McGonagall picked up a large roll of parchment and unrolled it.

"Now, when I call your name, you will come forward and sit on the stool. I will put the Sorting Hat onto your head and you will be sorted into your house. You will then go and sit at your house table. Atkins, Violet."

"That's our cousin," said Ginny, nudging Harry in the ribs with her elbow and pointing.

Little red-haired Violet cautiously approached the stool and sat down. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head, and after a few moments' deliberation it pronounced its verdict.

"Ravenclaw!" shouted the Hat for all to hear. Ron, Ginny, Fred and George all groaned. Violet smiled at them, shrugged her shoulders and ran down to the Ravenclaw table, where she was warmly welcomed.

"Boyle, Darcy."

"Slytherin!"

Harry watched in mild disgust as Darcy Boyle shook Draco Malfoy's hand and sat beside him at the Slytherin table.

"Daniels, Paul."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Goodyear, Tina"

"Slytherin!"

The Sorting continued. The first new Gryffindor was Jonathan Moorhouse, closely followed by Sarah Newton and Serge Rubio. Ron and Hermione performed their Prefect duties impeccably in welcoming each in turn and introducing them to the Gryffindors sitting around them.

With 'Yorke, Michelle' ('Ravenclaw!') the Sorting Ceremony ended, and everyone looked expectantly at Professor Dumbledore, who rose to his feet.

"I would like to welcome you all, new and not so new, to the start of a fresh year at Hogwarts," he said, his ancient face beaming with pleasure. "I do have some beginning of term notices..." Ron's face looked glumly down at his empty plate "but I'm sure they can wait until you've eaten. Enjoy."

At this last word, the previously empty tables were magically laden with a wide variety of food. The students tucked in enthusiastically. After Ron's third helpings of shepherd's pie, the golden plates disappeared, to be replaced by clean plates and an array of puddings. Harry tucked into a large portion of treacle sponge and custard, while Ron helped himself to bread and butter pudding and Hermione selected a colourful fruit salad.

When everyone had eaten their fill and more besides, Professor Dumbledore stood to his feet again, and the chattering of the students died away almost immediately.

"Welcome once again to Hogwarts," he said, smiling round at them all. "Now that you are all fed and watered, may I please have your attention while I give out the beginning of term notices.

'Our caretaker, Mr Filch, has asked me to mention that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle, which now number five hundred and twelve, are on display on the main notice board in the entrance hall."

Ron leaned towards Harry and whispered with a smile, "Fred and George are responsible for at least forty of the additions this year!"

Professor Dumbledore continued, "Secondly, I need to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is strictly out-of-bounds to all students. Rubeus Hagrid, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, is currently on extended leave. Professor Grubbly-Plank will be taking his classes until he returns. It is also my great pleasure to be able to introduce to you our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Sophia, who has joined us directly from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

At this, Professor Dumbledore motioned his hand towards the slight, black-haired witch who had been talking to Professor Snape. She stood, smiling, to acknowledge his introduction, and as she turned towards them, Harry gasped, as did several others around the hall. At first sight, she was extremely pretty, with her braided black hair and smooth olive skin. Her eyes, by contrast, were a light, piercing green, like jewels shining from the dark setting of her face. But as she turned, Harry saw a large, jagged scar running from the far corner of her left eye down to the corner of her mouth, marring the beauty of the rest of her face and twisting it as she smiled.

"She's an Auror!" said Hermione softly.

"Yeah," mumbled Ron in reply. "Wonder how she got that scar."

Professor Sophia took her seat again.

"And now," said Professor Dumbledore, cutting across the whispers that had broken out across the hall, "it's getting late, and I suggest you all get some rest before your lessons start in the morning. Prefects, if you would lead the way please."

Hermione immediately leapt into action, Ron following in her wake. "Gryffindors, follow me please," she called as she made for the doors. They rounded up the ten new Gryffindors and herded them up the main staircase, through a doorway concealed behind a tapestry and up another narrower staircase, the older students following behind. Eventually they reached a large portrait of a fat lady wearing a pink silk dress, where they stopped.

"The p.." began Hermione, but Ron poked her in the ribs.

"This bit's mine, remember?" he hissed at her. Then he turned and said clearly to the assembled Gryffindors, "The password this term is 'Cauldron Cakes'."

At these words, the portrait swung forwards to reveal the hole in the wall that led to the Gryffindor common room. They all climbed through, and Harry immediately headed up to his dormitory, which now had a sign saying 'Fifth Years Boys' on the door, leaving Ron and Hermione to explain the sleeping arrangements to the first years. Their trunks had been taken up to their rooms during the feast as usual, and Harry carefully unpacked his clothes and checked the packages Mrs Weasley had given him.

Then, after chatting with Dean, Seamus and Neville about their holidays for a while, Harry got ready for bed and laid down, closing the curtains of his four-poster round him. He was already asleep when Ron eventually came to bed.