They Shook Hands: Year Two (Original Version)

They Shook Hands

An alternate (but realistic!) universe Harry Potter fic
by Dethryl

Chapter Seven - Coming Home

"Wotcher, Slytherins!" Terry Boot had accepted an invitation to visit. Amazingly enough, it seemed that Tim and Pansy had stopped bickering, for they had been unable to hear any heated words from the hall.

"Wotcher, Ravenclaw," Tim responded, looking up from the Prophet. "How are you?"

"Terry!" Jenna cried with delight, bounding to her feet, and hugging the startled boy. "Good to see you!"

"Hi, Jenna." Terry hesitantly hugged her back. He sounded confused and looked askance at the rest of them. "Did someone hit her with a Cheering Charm? Isn't that third-year magic?"

"No such mystical explanation, just a bit too much coffee this morning," Blaise told him, laughing. She grabbed onto Jenna's blouse and tugged the girl to her seat. "Sit down!"

"So how did he take the news?" Pansy asked eagerly. She loathed Weasley and talked of him in such terms that Harry had only ever heard her use to talk about Tim, though he knew that she really meant it when describing Weasley.

"Badly," Draco said with satisfaction evident in his voice. "Blighter had nary a clue."

"Excellent," Pansy said quietly with a satisfied smirk.

"Tim, you're the only one here who reads. What do you think of the Act?" Terry asked, sitting down. Harry moved closer to hear better.

"Hey, I read!" Blaise protested.

"Yeah, but only dictionaries," Draco chuckled.

"Prat," Blaise sniffed.

"It will probably pass," Tim said, answering Terry's question and ignoring the others. "Any scheme that says it will save Galleons usually does. There won't be any huge savings made by cutting those offices and their budgets, but the reorganization of the power structure will definitely reduce costs."

"So they've closed the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. What other offices have been closed?" Harry asked curiously.

"They haven't been closed yet," Tim reminded them all. "It's still only a proposed budget and reorganization bill. It needs to go through committee, and then the Minister still needs to sign it into law."

"That's not the point, you great pillock," Pansy sneered at him.

Tim glared at Pansy. "They're also putting the axe to the Committee for the Disposal for Dangerous Creatures and the Committee on Experimental Charms."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"It's an office run by wizards who like to give themselves horns," Draco snickered. "And bat wings."

"Any wizard who creates a new Charm is obliged to register with the Committee and tell them exactly what the magic is supposed to do," Terry said, shaking his head. "The very idea of all new magic having to be approved by the government is stupid to begin with," he said critically. "They're fools if they think even one wizard in ten obeys that law."

"Of course," Tim said. "Which is probably why they'd like to close it. They know it serves no real function other than to provide several persons related to the Minister with a job."

"And the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office is just as useless," Draco chimed in. "If a wizard wants a flying carpet, I don't see why he shouldn't have one."

"Flying carpets are real?" Harry said incredulously. "I thought those were just a part of some Muggle fairy tales."

Tim nodded. "They're real enough, but carpets are considered to be Muggle-ish, so the law says no enchanting. As if Muggles are the only ones who use carpets!"

"We've got a flying carpet," Draco bragged. "Father keeps it in storage most of the time, but on the first night of holiday he brought me out for a flight."

"You're lucky you weren't seen," Blaise told him.

"Actually, we did get seen once," Draco admitted. "We heard a shout from the ground, and Father had to go put a Memory Charm on a Muggle."

"Just a Memory Charm?" Pansy said with disappointment.

Tim patted her on the head. "Poor ickle Pansy. No stories of bloodshed for you today."

Pansy snarled and pushed his hand away. Terry stood up and said his goodbyes, promising to come say hello at the feast. Harry looked out the window. The open pastures were beginning to give way to trees and forests. They must be nearly at Hogwarts.

"Shouldn't we change into our robes?" he suggested. He felt his face start to burn as Pansy started unbuttoning her shirt. Grabbing his school uniform, he fled to the next compartment. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting there, talking with Millie.

"Harry!" Goyle said. "Excellent, now we have a fourth for Exploding Snap."

Harry held up his robes. "Just here to change, really," he said. The two other boys chuckled. Millie ruffled Harry's hair as she left the compartment to give him some privacy.

After putting on his robes, the visible symbol of his status as a wizard, Harry felt very good indeed. Anything that distanced him from the Muggles and the cruel world they lived in was good. He joined his friends for a few hands of Exploding Snap once he was dressed, and they were just about to start a new game when the door slid open.

"There you are, Potter!" exclaimed Marcus Flint, captain of the house Quidditch team.

"Hullo, Flint," Harry greeted him. "How was your holiday?"

"Stressful!" Flint told him directly. "I almost had a heart attack when I saw that my Seeker had got himself kidnapped."

"I was never kidnapped!" Harry said sharply.

"I know, I know," Flint said, waving his hand. "I saw the interview, but still!"

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly.

"I'm better now," Flint told him. "I threw myself into devising new strategies for this season. Hey, you two!"

Crabbe looked up. "Me?"

"Us?" echoed Goyle.

"Yeah," Flint said, giving them a critical eye. "Have you ever thought of going out for the Quidditch team?"

"Me?"

"Us?"

Leaving Flint to try to recruit his big friends, Harry was about to return to the other compartment when he saw Jessica Conejo, a Spanish girl who was one of Slytherin's prefects and now a seventh year student. He'd always liked Jessica, with her easy way of smiling and her friendly, open manner.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, giving him a kiss on the forehead. "You look well for a kidnapped person."

Harry stared at her chest. The silver prefect's badge always pinned to her robes was gone. In its place was a gold badge reading 'Head Girl'. Harry sucked in a deep breath. "Congratulations, Jessica," he told her sincerely.

She blushed. "Oh, can you believe it?" she asked. "I'm still in shock. Abraham was elected Head Boy, did you hear?"

"No!"

"Yes," she said, beaming. That was more good news. Last year, the two Slytherin prefects had done their best to look out for Harry and his friends. They'd escorted the firsties around the castle, not letting them get lost, and had regularly checked in with them and helped out with homework. They fully deserved the honour.

A hidden speaker crackled to life, announcing, "The Hogwarts Express will be arriving at Hogsmeade station in one minute. Please gather all your belongings and prepare to deboard the train. Please do not attempt to leave the train until instructed. Please leave your school trunks; they will be taken up to the castle separately."

"Oops," Jessica said. "I need to go to work."

"Bye!" Harry hugged his prefect.

The train came to life suddenly, as all the students began hustling about, returning to their own compartments, picking up belongings, pets, and younger siblings. Harry saw several older students keeping close tabs on smaller versions of themselves. Millie had a younger brother who was starting Hogwarts this year, Harry remembered, named Arthur or Arsenic or something. He fell in step with her and asked where the younger Bulstrode was.

Millie rolled her eyes. "Arcen is with his 'tally' friends, as opposed to his very 'untally' sister and her weird friends."

"I wouldn't say we're weird," Pansy protested.

"I agree," Tim said. "Only Pansy is weird."

"Wanker."

"What does tally mean?" Blaise asked curiously.

"I have no idea," Millie told her.

When the train finally shuddered to a stop, there was a great scramble to get outside. Owls hooted, cats meowed, and Longbottom's pet toad could be heard croaking loudly from under the chubby boy's hat. The evening air was chilly, and Harry pulled his cloak shut against the night.

"Firs' years this way!" The bellowing voice could only have belonged to Hagrid, the gigantic, oafish gamekeeper. Harry tried to duck out of sight, but was not quick enough to escape notice.

"All righ', Harry?" he boomed.

Harry waved for a second, then turned and followed the rest of the school as the first year students gathered around Hagrid in preparation for the traditional journey across the lake. They made their way down off the platform and onto a rough, muddy road where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited them. When they had climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession without benefit of a horse to pull it!

As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Harry was once again impressed with the sheer majesty of the Hogwarts castle. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle. Looking out the tiny windows, they could see the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Harry hurried to get a breath of air that didn't stink of mould and straw.

The students trundled up the stone steps that led up to the front doors of the castle. Heavy, giant, oak; the doors opened up into the cavernous entrance hall, lit with flaming torches. The magnificent marble staircase rose into the air, leading the way to the upper floors.

Harry followed the swarm into the Great Hall. It was its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in mid-air. The sky above, seen via the enchanted ceiling of the Hall, was clear and bright. Stars twinkled merrily in the black dome of the night. The four long House tables were slowly being filled by the arriving students. At the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils.

At the end of the table, next to the very large empty chair that belonged to Hagrid, sat Professor Kettleburn, instructor for Care of Magical Creatures. Fresh bandages were wrapped around his hands. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the instructor for Charms and Head of Ravenclaw House, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher and Head of Hufflepuff House, whose hat was askew over her flyaway grey hair. Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy witch, was looking bright-eyed and perky. As a confessed night owl, she had probably been awake for only a few hours. Next to her, Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Master, sat looking profoundly unhappy. His black hair was slicked back, emphasizing his piercing eyes and hooked nose. Snape had an empty chair next to him, presumably belonging to Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration Mistress and Head of Gryffindor House.

In the centre of the table sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight. His eyes watched them all from behind half-moon spectacles. The blue robes he wore were decorated with stars and moons. Further on sat Professor Vector, the witch who taught Arithmancy, Professor Babbling, the witch who taught Ancient Runes, and Professor Burbage, the witch who taught Muggle Studies. Those were all subjects older students could take. In the Spring, they would have to pick two additional classes to take in their third year.

Professor Lockhart sat there with his perfectly waved blond hair, his perfectly white smile, and his perfectly ugly aquamarine robes and pointed hat. Harry turned his head to avoid making eye contact.

The rest of the staff sat along the table: Madam Pomfrey, the nurse; Madam Pince, the librarian; and Madam Hooch, the Quidditch instructor. Mr. Filch would be waiting around to mop the floor after the first years came through making a mess.

Harry exchanged many greetings as his fellow Slytherins came by to say hello. The rest of the Quidditch team, Bletchley, Bole, Derrick, Pucey, and Montague, all came by to offer salutations. Jamie Zabini, looking a bit mopey, forced a smile when she saw him.

He tried to ignore his stomach, which was requesting to be filled. He jumped a bit as he heard a roll of thunder, but he looked up to see that the sky was bright and clear.

"Sorry," Crabbe whispered. "I'm hungry."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fathead," was all he said.

A side door opened at that moment, and Hagrid took his seat at the table. Professor Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction.

"Ah, Hagrid. I trust the first year students are ready outside?" he asked genially.

"Yessir, Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid answered.

"Excellent."

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall led the pack of first years inside. The long line of starry-eyed children looked anxious, nervous, and excited as they walked up to the front and stood before the High Table. Professor McGonagall brought over the Hogwarts Sorting Hat and the four-legged stool upon which it sat. Dirty, tattered, frayed, and patched, the Hat decided which House a student would belong to. It also directed the Hogwarts School Choir. The whole Hall watched eagerly, waiting for the Hat as a tear opened up, and it began to sing.

I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,
And I can read your mind,
So plunk me down upon your head,
And let's see what we find!
There is no cat around, you see,
Who must've dragged me in.
Though I'm not much to look at,
I will tell you where I've been.
A thousand years or more ago,
The Founders ran this school.
They picked their chosen special ones,
It was their own home rule.
They knew they'd leave, eventually,
And so they made this plan.
Take a hat and cast a spell,
So I could pick the clan!
To Gryffindor, the lions home,
Filled with stout of heart,
Go those who aren't afraid at all,
To lose some body parts!
The Ravenclaws, the bookish birds,
They always have a tome,
Of complex spells and obscure facts,
The library is home!
In Hufflepuff, the badgers true,
To those that they hold dear,
They always act with honour, like,
A true chevalier!
Crafty, clever, driven,
Are the serpents, Slytherin,
No one can ever challenge,
That they have strong ambition!
Each House is quite outstanding,
Each with honoured legacy,
You're heirs to greatness, never minding
Where you soon will be!
So step right up and try me on,
I know you won't regret,
It's my job to Sort you all,
Amongst the House quartet.

The entire Hall burst into applause. Professor McGonagall took out a scroll and unrolled it. "One by one, you will be called up to be Sorted. You will place the Sorting Hat on your head and sit on the stool. When the Hat announces your House, you will join your Housemates at the appropriate table."

"Arcen Bulstrode!"

The younger Bulstrode looked a lot like his older sister. He was a bit husky, with plain brown hair. He didn't seem at all nervous as he put the Hat on his head and sat down. After only a few seconds, the tear in the Hat opened up and cried out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Millie led the cheering as Arcen made his way to the Slytherin table. He sat down and grinned at all those who congratulated him.

"Colin Creevey!"

"Already with the Mudblood trash?" Pansy whispered.

"Apparently so," Blaise whispered back.

"How do you know he's a Mudblood?" Harry asked quietly.

"Just look at him," Pansy said. "Scared out of his little mind, he is."

A very small, mousy-haired boy stepped forward. Nervously, he picked up the Hat, pulled it on, and sat down.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Vanessa Dipippo!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Nancy Dix!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The cheering from the Gryffindor table was riotous as three new students in a row joined them. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs looked a bit put out.

"Someone needs to make sure those Gryffindors don't get too uppity," muttered Eleanor Weiss, a seventh year sitting nearby.

"Gerald Driverson!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

As their first new student was announced, the Hufflepuffs exploded with applause. The black-haired boy sat down as Professor McGonagall announced, "Megan Fontaine!" a brown-haired girl with a ponytail who became the first new Ravenclaw.

The Sorting continued without incident through Brooke Gagnon (Gryffindor), Candace Gallagher (Hufflepuff), and Darryl Gauthier (Gryffindor), but when Jeremiah Goodwinter was announced, many of those sitting near Harry suddenly perked up. "What is it?" he asked Draco.

"Goodwinter is one of the old family names," Draco told him. "I didn't realize there were any Goodwinters coming in this year."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Michelle Holt!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Cheers rose as the first new girl joined Slytherin's table.

"Charles Ilnicky!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Wendy Ingram, Judith Kovalsick, and Luna Lovegood became Ravenclaws. Christopher Lewis was deemed a Hufflepuff.

"Omar Massé!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"That's a new name for me," Tim whispered. "Sounds Spanish."

Draco shrugged. "Good for him."

Ravenclaw and Slytherin continued alternating between Jamie Morello, Sarrah Nolan, Patrick O'Rourke, Shawna Osman, and Westley Overton. The next firstie called was Melissa Padhye, another name that elicited interest. Draco bet Tim a Galleon that she'd be in Ravenclaw, while Tim erroneously believed Slytherin. Draco won the bet as she went to Ravenclaw, followed by Susan Robillard, sorted to Gryffindor. Conrad Rohmann and Gwendolyn Roit became Hufflepuffs, then Myles Sheridan went to Gryffindor, prompting deafening cheers. Draco nudged Harry. "Long tradition with that family."

"Thelma Shilvock!"

"More Mudbloods," Tim hissed at Draco.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Laine Slater!" McGonagall said. A pretty girl with shoulder-length auburn hair stepped forward. The Hat announced her as a Slytherin.

"Lucas Slater!"

Harry did a double-take. The same girl was walking forward to sit on the stool. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. "Déjà vu."

"The Slater twins," Blaise said, nodding. "Boy and girl, though you'd think they were identical. Poor Lucas needs a haircut, but his parents are so anachronistic they won't allow it."

The unfortunate Mr. Slater also was named a Slytherin.

Only three students were left now. Joshua Sunderland was destined for Ravenclaw. When Ginevra Weasley was announced, Draco grumbled and looked away from the little girl who had kicked him on the train. Harry was amused by her name. He'd thought it was Virginia. Eugene Wendell was the last student, and he went to Gryffindor as well.

As Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Hat and stool away, Professor Dumbledore got to his feet. He spread his arms wide. "I can see the hunger in your eyes, so please, eat."

The golden plates and platters suddenly filled with food. Harry dug in gratefully. The Sorting was very important, yes, but he was a growing boy. He came very close to stuffing himself to the bursting point. During the feast, Terry Boot and Padma Patil stopped by to say hello. They stayed through afters when the headmaster rose to his feet again.

"Before we retire for the night, I have a few notices to give out. Firstly, welcome to our new instructor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, Gilderoy Lockhart."

Half the Hall started clapping. Harry didn't bother. Lockhart might be a great crusader against the Dark Arts, but he was also a fop who spent too much time on his hair. Up at the High Table, Lockhart was smiling his perfect smile and waving to the students.

"The forest on the school grounds is considered out-of-bounds to all students," Dumbledore continued. "Use of magic in the corridors when passing between classes is frowned upon. Quidditch trials will take place in the second week of term. Anyone interested in earning a place on their house team should see Madam Hooch."

Harry couldn't wait for Quidditch season to start.

"And now, it's time to sing the school song!" Dumbledore said gleefully. He brought out his wand, and a stream of yellow ribbon erupted from the end, forming words in the air. "Everyone pick your favourite tune, and off we go!"

The Hogwarts Choir had prepared for the moment when Dumbledore would initiate the singing. All through dinner they had passed the word around the Hall. In many voices, yet as one, they opened their mouths and sang the school song in cohesion.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something, please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot.

They drowned out all the other students who were singing, and gradually the choir were the only ones making any music at all. Dumbledore used his wand to conduct, but the choir paid no attention to him. Their only true conductor was the Sorting Hat, who knew music very well. As their song ceased, the clapping was long and gratifying.

"Thank you for that impromptu concert from the Hogwarts School Choir," Dumbledore said, sounding pleased. "Music is a magic more powerful than all we do here. Those who wish to join the choir will find notices posted in their common rooms. And now, a very good night to you all."

Harry and his friends walked out of the Hall and down the stone stairs that led into the dungeons. Harry felt he could have walked the route blindfolded. He had to restrain himself from breaking into a run. Ahead was his safety, his sanctuary, the place where he felt most at home. They stopped in front of a blank stone wall.

"Eloze," Blaise said. She was not magically pulling the password out of thin air; it had been circulated during pudding. The wall slid back, opening the way into Slytherin House.

The common room was a pleasant place, shaped like an elongated rectangle. Polished stone steps led down to the recessed floor, carpeted in a rich green with silver designs. The walls and ceiling were rough-hewn stone. Lamps hung on chains from the ceiling, giving off a cosy greenish light. A fire was crackling cheerfully under an elaborately carved mantelpiece in the centre of the long wall. Beanbag chairs were scattered before the fire grate. Several high-backed chairs surrounded each of the tables that were evenly distributed throughout the room. There were two corridors at the far end of the room. Bookshelves lined the walls.

"Home," Harry sighed happily. He hugged Blaise goodnight, and also Jenna, who was still perky, bouncy, and happy. He followed the blokes to the end of the hall where the bronze nameplate on the door now read 'Second Years'. Inside they found their four-poster beds, dressers, desks, and trunks. It seemed as though nothing had changed over the summer holiday. The moon was bright in the sky, visible through the large picture window.

Well-fed and sleepy, Harry wanted nothing more than to slide between the sheets of his own bed. He yawned a goodnight to his mates, but didn't hear any reply as his head touched the pillow and he was out like a snuffed candle flame.

to be continued...