Harry Potter and the Michaelmas Term

On the evening of the Ministry reception, they decided to meet at Grimmauld Place first. They had been given the afternoon off to go home and change into something respectable. Ron arrived slightly before Hermione, resplendent in his new pinstriped robes. Harry eyed him up and down.

"You look like a Ministry official already," he joked.

"Yeah, right."

"Your mother will be proud of you."

Ron groaned. "She spent an hour beforehand making sure that my hair was combed, that I'd got a hanky, and all the rest of it. Honestly, I swear that given half a chance, she'd have checked whether my boxers were clean."

"Are they?" asked Harry with a grin.

Any reply that Ron might have made was cut short by the arrival of Hermione. She too was as smart as Harry had ever seen her. She surveyed the two boys with a critical eye.

"Not bad," she said finally.

"Thank you, Hermione," said Ron, putting on that dignified air again.

"Careful, Ron, don't start getting all stuffy." This was perilously close to a reference to Percy, and Hermione suddenly realised her mistake. "Are we all ready?" she went on briskly. The other two nodded. "You know where we're going?"

"Honestly, Hermione!"

"Just checking. Well, off we go then."

They Apparated to a point just off the atrium, where the reception was being held. There was already a buzz of conversation as they entered, but Harry could see heads turning as the three of them stood and surveyed the scene. There were a few people under thirty in the large throng, but they were by far and away the youngest there, making them all the more conspicuous.

Arbuthnot was at the centre of things, but with a true politician's skill, he extricated himself and came over, smiling at them.

"The terrible trio. How are you all?"

"Very well, thank you, Minister." Ron answered for them all.

"Good. Drinks are on the trays over there, and food too. You'll have to excuse me - you know what it's like, I'm sure - got to do the rounds."

And he was away, busy pressing hands and greeting more newcomers. The three of them were left feeling slightly high and dry.

Around the atrium trays were hanging suspended in mid air. Some held glasses of wine, others delicacies of one sort or another. Ron reached out to one and passed the other two something to drink.

Hermione looked at Ron over the rim of her glass. "Not too difficult, was it, Ron?"

He looked at her with a disdainful glance. "You underestimate me."

Hermione nodded. "You're right. I often do."

Ron looked at her as if he didn't quite believe his ears.

"Stop bickering, you two."

Hermione sighed. "Sorry. I'll be sweetness and light this evening. Promise."

Ron had spied a nearby tray of food and sidled up to it. "This'll keep me going!"

Hermione gave Harry another glance but said nothing.

Harry surveyed the crowd in the atrium. He knew that a lot of people would be trying not to look at him. He knew quite a few of the people who had arrived so far; some by name, some who he had seen around in the corridors. But they were all busy talking away to each other: he felt very much out of place in these surroundings.

A voice from came from behind them. "Won any more Quidditch matches recently?"

It was Charles Arbuthnot, the Minister's son, and coach for the Tigholt Tigers. Harry smiled at him, relieved to find someone to talk to. "Beat Ravenclaw."

"One down, two to go."

"And the last one is the real needle match."

"Gryffindor versus Slytherin. I can imagine. You captain this year?"

"No - Ron is." Charles looked slightly surprised. "No good having a Seeker as captain. Besides, Ron's a hard taskmaster."

"What position do you play?" Charles asked Ron.

"Keeper."

Charles nodded. "No vacancies in our team, I'm afraid."

Ron shrugged. "I'm not that good. Good enough for a House team, maybe, but that's all."

"Well, you've a job lined up here anyway."

"Maybe."

Again Charles looked surprised. "I thought you wanted to be an Auror - something like that."

"Yeah, I might do. Or follow brother Bill into Gringotts."

"What does he do there?"

"Curse breaking."

"Ah, better pay than the Ministry."

Ron nodded. "But I haven't made up my mind yet."

"And better paid than playing Quidditch," said Charles sadly. "Anyway, I'd better go and mix. See you later."

"See you," they chorused.

"I suppose we ought to go and mix too," said Hermione.

Ron was too busy helping himself to food from the nearby tray. As fast as he emptied it, the tray replenished itself.

"Ron!"

"Wha'?" through a mouthful of food.

"Don't be a pig!"

"I'm hungry," said Ron, his mouth eventually clear. "We're missing the feast, remember."

"Look, if you need feeding, come round to my place later. But leave the tray alone."

"Okay," said Ron slightly sulkily. He nudged Harry in the ribs. "Over there."

In the distance they could see Rita Skeeter in resplendent robes. She too was helping herself to food from a tray whilst talking carefully to a very small witch. Hermione made a noise which could loosely be translated as "Pshaw!"

"And there," said Harry quietly. In a corner was the distinctive red hair of another Weasley: Percy. Ron hissed something. "Leave it, Ron."

"When he apologises to Mum and Dad."

"I'm surprised that with your dad's promotion he hasn't made a move."

"Too proud," said Hermione.

They both looked at her. "And what's pride got to do with it?" asked Ron.

"He's too proud to say he was wrong. You'll all too proud to go up to him and say hi, and let bygones be bygones."

"Hell would have to freeze over first."

"Exactly. You prove my point."

"What do you mean?" asked Ron, baffled again.

"You're too proud to speak to him. His fault, so you won't be the first to break the ice."

"Well, all last year, when he walked past me in the corridors, it was as if I didn't exist."

"Maybe so - but are you willing to give it a try?"

Harry could see Ron's hesitation, and he could understand it. The feud with Percy was of very long standing. Then Ron said slowly. "Okay. Let's try it."

They began pushing their way through the crowd, Harry attracting the usual curious glances. Percy was standing with his back to them, talking to someone Harry didn't recognise. They manoeuvred themselves to one side of him so that there was no way he could miss seeing them. Whoever it was broke off his conversation to Percy at the sight of the three youngsters, and turned towards them. Hermione nudged Ron, who cleared his throat.

"Evening, Percy," he said in a slightly strained manner.

Percy looked at him, and then at the other two. It was difficult to see his expression. Then Percy nodded at each of them in turn. After a few moments more, it was obvious Percy wasn't going to say anything.

Harry thought things couldn't be left there. "Quite a party here tonight," he said, with a wave of his hand.

"Indeed," said Percy.

Hermione turned to Percy's companion, who was a slightly portly gentleman of middle age. She held out her hand. "Hermione Granger."

"Miss Granger. I'm Wilhelm Weekes - Department of Mysteries."

Their interest quickened. "Really?" said Hermione. "Now that's a fascinating area!"

Weekes laughed. "You and your friends created quite a deal of havoc down there!"

"Um, well, yes. Sorry about that."

"Took us a month to clear up."

"We were - well, you might say fighting for our lives."

"Oh, yes, I know. I'm not really complaining, you know. Besides, it was more excitement than we'd had for years!"

But Percy had taken the opportunity of the little exchange to fade away. Ron turned - "Hey!"

Weekes blinked in surprise. "Isn't he your brother?"

"That's what I thought," said Ron grimly.

The buzz in the hall died for a moment, and they all turned to see why. Then they saw that three goblins were standing in something of a huddle near the entrance. Harry recognised them: Raznak, Raknuk and Zurkag.

"Wow," he said. "Goblins in the Ministry. This really is something."

Arbuthnot was making his way through the crowd to welcome the trio, who were standing looking determined but slightly apprehensive. Conversation picked up again as people pretended that the presence of three goblins in the Ministry in this fashion was routine.

Harry watched as Arbuthnot talked to them for a minute or two before being called away again. He saw the three goblins standing alone once more, looking rather out of place, and made up his mind. "Excuse me," he said to the others, and walked over.

"Good evening," and he bowed to each in turn.

"Mr Potter." It wouldn't have been quite true to say that Raznak was relieved to see him, but he obviously felt a little less isolated.

"You have recovered from the events of the summer?" the goblin went on.

"Yes, thank you." He turned to Zurkag. "I hear you took part in the Dementor hunt."

The goblin looked momentarily surprised then nodded. "That's right," he said rather grimly. "It was one of those things - not nice to do, yet I wanted to do it."

"We're better off without them."

"They are indeed evil creatures. Some beasts - well, you feel they may not be beyond redemption. But not Dementors. They have nothing in their favour."

"They've certainly been hiding recently."

"We pick up odd traces of them now and then. Not much. Not enough to track them down. Perhaps there fewer of them. The world is certainly well rid of them."

The fierce old goblin was almost becoming talkative. But it was difficult to find other topics of conversation.

"We followed your press conference with interest," said Raknuk.

"Oh." Harry was embarrassed. "Well, I thought it was better to get the truth out in the open."

"Exactly right. Too many things have been covered up for too long."

Harry noticed Zurkag examining the statue in the centre of the atrium with distaste.

"Not exactly tactful, is it?" he remarked. The old goblin grunted. "I think if it were up to Arbuthnot he'd take it down, but it's rather a big statement to make."

Raznak turned to him. "Perhaps, one day, Mr Potter, when you are Minister of Magic, you will have it removed."

Harry was so taken aback by this he stammered: "Me? Minister? I don't think so."

"Oh? Why not?"

Harry thought this over for a moment, then: "I'm not the political sort. Besides, I've no idea what I shall do when I leave Hogwarts."

"Work for the Ministry, surely?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." He gave a small smile. "Perhaps return to Hogwarts and spend my life quietly teaching."

"Does teaching appeal?"

"Yes and no. I wouldn't be bad, but I know I wouldn't be brilliant."

"Why is that?"

Harry considered this. "My friend Hermione is good because she reads everything through very carefully, and works out what to do first. She knows what to do. Me - I just do it. When I succeed, I'm better than her. But if I haven't got it right, I have to work harder at it than she does. And to teach something properly, you've really got to understand it. I'm not there yet."

"A very perceptive analysis for one so young."

Harry flushed slightly. "I've been doing some teaching in a school club - a Defence group."

"We have heard about that too."

What hadn't they heard about? But Harry was released from the questions by the arrival of Ron and Hermione at his shoulder. Ron gave a small bow and greeted each of the goblins formally by name, as did Hermione.

Raknuk was rather amused. "We are pleased by the compliment, but it is not always necessary to be so formal."

"The greeting is not just for you, but also for the positions you hold," said Ron.

Raknuk again smiled. "Very nicely put, Mr Weasley. You may well make a politician yet." Ron looked slightly alarmed. "Or a diplomat," Raknuk added. Ron looked a little more re-assured. "And talking of diplomats, here is the representative of the French ministry."

They turned to see a tall dark wizard just behind them.

"M. Gergaud," said Raknuk.

The Frenchman bowed and went through the formalities of greeting the goblins.

"You have met Mr Potter and his friends?" Raknuk asked.

"No, I haven't. Delighted." Again, the handshakes. "Although I have read much of your adventures."

"Don't believe all you read in the papers," said Harry darkly.

The Frenchman smiled. "Your press conference received wide coverage in my country."

"Get your side of the story in first," said Harry.

"Very wise. Miss Granger, Mr Weasley. More talented Hogwarts students."

"I always enjoy my holidays in your country," said Hermione.

"Ah, really? That is kind of you to say so. Where have you visited?"

The group chatted for a little time, although making small talk to the goblins was not easy. Then Zurkag gave Harry's sleeve a little tug.

"A word, Mr Potter."

"Of course," said Harry startled.

Zurkag drew him to one side. "I must apologise," he said very formally, "for doubting your story when you came to the Council."

"Well, I'm not surprised. In some ways, it must have seemed too good to be true."

Zurkag frowned. "In what way?"

"That I suddenly arrive from the Ministry with all sorts of messages and tales."

Zurkag considered this. "It did seem a little sudden and unusual. However, I must tell you that the Council is coming to the opinion that a different accommodation between ourselves and the wizarding community may be possible. And I speak as one of the most sceptical members of the council."

Harry was cautious. "Things may not move all that fast on our side."

"I appreciate that. But we do believe that you and Minister Arbuthnot are sincere."

"Have you told him that?"

"We have let him know - indirectly, so to speak. We do not anticipate any great changes at the moment. But we do think matters are moving in the right direction. And we have you to thank for that."

"Remember I don't represent anyone except myself."

"Oh, yes, we are aware of that. But the fact that someone such as yourself thinks as you do is a heartening sign."

Harry considered this. "Partly," he said slowly, "because I did not have a traditional wizarding upbringing."

"Exactly. You came to this with a fresh mind. And whatever you may think about yourself, we think that you will be a person of some importance in years to come."

Harry laughed, embarrassed. "Maybe. But there is another snag."

"Which is?"

"Tom Riddle." The goblin looked momentarily baffled. "He who calls himself Lord Voldemort."

"Ah. There is unfinished business there?"

"You might say that."

The old goblin thought this over. Then: "How do you see it ending?"

I wish I knew, thought Harry to himself. Then: "I'm not entirely certain," he said out loud.

"Oh?"

"You must understand - there are some things I cannot talk about. Not just to you - to anyone."

"I quite understand. But whatever happens - I wish you good fortune."

"Thank you."

Then Zurkag looked beyond Harry towards the other two goblins. "I am afraid that you are going to have to excuse me, Mr Potter. We have made our point by accepting the invitation and coming here tonight. I think we are ready to make our farewells to the Minister."

"Of course."

"I hope we will be able to talk again soon."

"As do I."

"Farewell, Mr Potter."

They bowed at each other - slightly self consciously in Harry's case. He turned and bowed to the other goblins as they prepared to leave.

Ron and Hermione came over. "More hush hush stuff?" asked Ron.

"Something like that."

"Potter the superspy."

"Weasley the diplomat."

Ron coloured slightly. "I don't believe he said that!"

"You're growing up, Ron," Hermione told him.

"Thanks, Hermione. I noticed that a few years back."

"Not what I mean, Ron. You're becoming more mature. You're learning how to deal with adults."

"Am I? Do I want to be grown up?"

"We don't have much choice," said Harry.

"Maybe not."

The atrium was beginning to empty now as the party wound down.

"We'd better find Arbuthnot to say thank you," said Hermione.

Inevitably there was something of a queue for people waiting to do the same. But with his usual political skill, Arbuthnot was able to deal with people quickly and efficiently without seeming too brisk.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione! Thank you for coming."

"Our pleasure, Minister. Thank you for the invitation. Have a good holiday."

Arbuthnot pulled a face. "Maybe. You haven't seen my in tray. But thanks for the thought."

Just as they were turning away, Ron said casually: "And we beat Ravenclaw at Quidditch last week."

"Really? Ah, well, we have to let you win occasionally." And Arbuthnot turned to say his goodbyes to the next in line.

"You deserved that, Ron," Harry told him with a grin.

"Politicians! Always have to have the last word."

"But it wasn't very - diplomatic - of you." Ron said something rather rude and Harry grinned again. "Well, I'll see you two later."

"Aren't you coming back with us?" asked Hermione in surprise.

"Well," Harry said rather awkwardly, "I wasn't sure if you just meant Ron ..."

"Don't be silly. Both of you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"Okay then."

They Apparated back to Hermione's bedroom 'so as not to scare the Muggles', as Ron put it - a comment that got a rather frosty reception from Hermione.

Hermione's parents had already had supper, but as soon as Hermione explained they had come back for a bite to eat, Mrs Granger began organising them. It didn't take long before Harry realised where Hermione got it from. Ron was well nigh useless, though - Muggle kitchens and microwaves were beyond him. It was just as well Mr Weasley hadn't come with them, Harry thought, or they'd have never got anywhere with all the questions.

Mr and Mrs Granger joined them at the table, and opened a bottle of wine. "Having you here is something to celebrate," said Mr Granger, as he poured the wine.

They already had had a few glasses at the Ministry, and both Ron and Hermione had slightly flushed cheeks. Harry wondered if it showed on him too. But they hadn't drunk that much that an extra glass would make a great deal of difference.

Hermione's parents sat bemused as the three youngsters chatted about Ministers of Magic, goblins and other Ministry gossip. Percy was, for the moment, a taboo subject, although Harry could see that Ron had been hurt and upset by the rejection. And it was him and Hermione who had encouraged Ron in the first place. Ah well, if Percy wanted to be like that ... let him.

"What are you two doing on Boxing Day?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno," said Harry.

"Probably visiting great aunts in Norfolk," said Ron gloomily.

Hermione looked at her parents. "Is it alright if a few people come round?"

"Of course, dear."

"I was thinking of asking Dean and Olive as well. Olive's a Muggle," she added for the benefit of her parents.

"Well, we won't be quite so outnumbered then," her father told her.

"At least Dean knows what he wants to do next year," said Ron slightly gloomily.

"Oh?" asked Mr Granger.

"He's apprenticed to a wand maker," Hermione explained.

"Ah. Good job, is it?"

"Not bad. Depends on your aptitude. Dean seems good at it."

"So none of you have any idea what you'll do when you leave school?" Mrs Granger asked.

There was a shaking of three heads around the table.

"Gringotts seems good, though," said Hermione.

"That's the bank?"

Hermione nodded.

"I could fancy that too," said Ron.

"What would you do?" Mr Granger asked him.

"Curse breaking. Like my brother Bill."

"Ah."

Harry sensed the Grangers felt rather out of their depth, and thought he'd better divert the conversation.

"Tell me - what happened when Hermione turned eleven?" he asked them.

"What - when we found out about Hermione?"

"Yeah."

Mr Granger smiled reminiscently. "This strange woman knocks on the door one evening and asks if she could talk to us. I mean, we thought she might some religious nut or whatever, but we invite her in anyway. She sits down in the living room, looks round, picks up the newspaper, taps it with this stick, and it turns into a bunch of flowers. Taps it again, and it turns into a rather nice lampstand. Then she sits back and looks at us."

Harry could imagine Professor McGonagall doing just that. He smiled. "Then what?"

"So I carefully ask her what that was all about, and she says: magic. And when she looks at you, you don't argue." Now the three students did laugh. "I thought about that, and said: all right then, turn it into an armchair. And she did."

"We still have it," said Mrs Granger. "It was rather a nice one. And we'd read the paper."

"So," went on Mr Granger, "we say: fine, but what's this all about? And she asks to see Hermione. We weren't too keen, but we called her down from her room."

"Where she was reading a book?" asked Ron innocently. He got a sharp nudge in the ribs from Hermione.

"Exactly. Anyway, she gives this stick to Hermione, who just stood there - and something happened. Difficult to describe really. But then McGonagall turns to us and said: there you are. Your daughter's a witch."

"I looked at her as if she was mad," said Hermione. "Then she said: swish the wand. And sparks came from it."

"She produced this brochure - just like a school prospectus, except that all the pictures were moving. And she lent Hermione this book to read."

"Hogwarts - a History," said Ron automatically.

"That's the one. And Hermione spent the next day reading it."

"Don't we know it," said Ron semi audibly.

"And we spent the day examining the chair. Which had been the newspaper. We thought: if this is a con trick, it's a very good one. And then we had a long talk. And signed up."

"It must have all seemed very odd," said Harry.

"You can say that again," said Mrs Granger. "Then we got the list of things Hermione would need! You can imagine what we thought of that."

"Was it the same for you two?" Mr Granger asked.

Ron shook his head. "Mum and dad had been to Hogwarts before me, and all my family."

"What about you, Harry?"

Despite everything, Harry had to smile. "I got the letter, but my aunt and uncle wouldn't let me open it. Then more and more letters came, but they still wouldn't let me have them. Eventually Hagrid came and rescued me."

"Hagrid? That's the really big chap, with the beard?"

"That's right. And after you've met Hagrid, you don't really wonder whether it was all a con or not."

"I can imagine not," said Mr Granger with a slight smile. "But why wouldn't your aunt and uncle let you open the letters?"

"They're Muggles, and hate anything to do with magic."

"Oh."

"But I've moved out now, and I don't have anything more to do with them."

"That's right, I remember - we enjoyed the party. And that sword - Hermione told us there's a story about you and the sword."

Once again Harry felt reluctant to go over those events yet again, but decided he ought to say something - even if it was only a very abbreviated version. "Well, there was a problem at school. And Ron and I managed to get down to a place called the Chamber of Secrets. There was a basilisk there. I had to kill it with the sword."

There was complete silence.

"Kill a basilisk?" asked Mrs Granger in a hushed tone.

Harry nodded.

"Er - what exactly is a basilisk?"

"A sort of giant snake. If you look it in the eye, you die." Harry didn't know whether Hermione had told her parents about being petrified, so thought he'd better keep quiet about that one.

Another long silence.

"Harry can talk to snakes," Ron offered helpfully.

"Talk to snakes?" Mrs Granger asked in a fainter voice.

"Yeah," said Ron brightly. "It's quite a rare gift."

To relieve the tension, Harry told them all about Dudley and the python the time they had visited the zoo.

"We remember some odd things happening around Hermione when she was young," her mother said. "Remember the cyclist?"

Apparently her mother had been driving Hermione somewhere when a cyclist appeared from nowhere. Hermione had screamed, and they had hit him full on.

"But when we got out, he hadn't a scratch on him. And his bike was fine! I didn't understand it. I just put it down to luck. But the speed at which I'd hit him! I was scared stiff I'd killed him."

"I remember seeing him being hit by the car," said Hermione, "and being really really upset, and hoping he'd be okay. And he was."

"There you are," said Harry. He suppressed a yawn, and realised how tired he was feeling. He stood up. "I think I'll be heading back now, and change. Got to be back in school tomorrow. Been a long day." Ron stood up too, but Harry put a hand on his shoulder to push him down again. "Don't go on my account." Ron subsided again. "Thanks," he said to the Grangers.

"No problem, Harry. You're welcome any time."