Teamwork

12 -- Back to School

King's Cross was a simple Tube ride. With agreement from the twins, Harry used a last dose of the Polyjuice potion and a hair from a random Muggle that he had bumped against the day before. He enjoyed the anonymity of traveling as this unknown man, but he wasn't entirely sure that the barrier would admit him, so he had to time the dose carefully. It turned out that there was no problem crossing through, whatever his body looked like.

"Oi!" called out a voice, as he set his foot on the train steps. "You sir! Students only!" Bustling into conversational range, Ernie Macmillan returned to his usual self-important tone. "Regulations, my good man, you understand -- for the children's safety."

Harry moved to the side of the steps and leaned back against the vibrating train. It didn't quite obscure the strange, queasy feeling of the Polyjuice starting to wear off. "How do you know I'm not the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" he challenged.

Ernie's chest puffed out. "I, sir, am a prefect. We have been informed as to all the staff members that will be traveling today."

Harry started to reply, but the potion didn't give him time. With a sickening wrench, his body warped back to its accustomed shape. It was a relief to have his trousers fit comfortably, again.

"Potter?"

"It seemed the safest way to get here. May I board the train, now?"

"Can't you ever be normal?" Ernie huffed.

Harry shrugged and hoisted his trunk. "Probably not. See you!"

"Oi, Potter! Wait up!" With a wide grin, Blaise Zabini skidded to a halt beside them. His trunk bumped into the side of the train. "How did you get past me?"

"He was using," Ernie said, with audible offense, "Polyjuice Potion."

"Brilliant!" Zabini maneuvered his floating trunk onto the train. "Did you brew it yourself?"

"Nah," Harry said modestly. "Some friends of mine did." He followed Zabini up the iron steps, only absently noticing how Ernie was staring. "Let's find an empty compartment."

"No Gryffindor friends this year?"

Harry grinned. "Last I saw, they were snogging in an alcove. They probably won't start looking for me until the train's in motion."

They hadn't seen any empty compartments by the time they reached one that Harry considered to be as good -- the sole occupant was Millicent Bulstrode. He caught Zabini's arm. "Bulstrode okay with you?" he asked.

Zabini looked startled. "Fine with me," he said significantly.

"All right, then." Harry slid open the door. "Hi, Bulstrode. Mind if we join you?"

Her already small eyes narrowed for a moment, heavy brows coming ominously down. "Can you mind your tongue?" she asked tartly.

Harry winked at her, hoping she took it as understanding. "Wasn't I all right last time?" he coaxed.

Rolling her eyes, she sat back, but her scowl faded. "You can't blame me if it's hard to get used to, Potter. Fine. Have a seat."

With a laugh, he settled across from her. Zabini, to his surprise, not only sat next to him, but twisted to face him.

"So, Potter...."

"Mm?"

"Before your friends show up...." Zabini's head lowered in stubborn uncertainty. "Have you got what you said you would?"

Bulstrode snorted, which made Harry want to laugh, but he kept it to a smile. "The whole thing," he said. He took a small packet out of his jeans pocket. "Eighteen Galleons."

"And it cost you?"

"Eighteen Galleons."

Zabini eyed him balefully. "It would be so easy to hate you."

"For not charging extra?"

"For it just not mattering to you." He cocked his head to the side. "Why don't you give it to me for free, Potter?"

Harry rapidly thought through several replies. Should I? No, it would probably make him resent me more. And then it's a present, and that makes me more responsible, and we're not that close. "Because that wasn't our deal," he said. "And besides, eighteen Galleons? It matters some."

"All right," Zabini said amiably. "Can't blame me for trying." He dug out a small purse and held it out towards Harry. Harry suddenly thought of Portkeys, and what Zabini might do for money or favors. While he was hesitating, Bulstrode reached across the space between the seats and grabbed Zabini's wrist.

"Shall I check it for you, Potter?"

He couldn't not think of Cedric. "But if it's--"

"I'll be fine," she said.

"Cedric--"

"Didn't socialize with the Parkinsons and Notts," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"You're wasting your time," Zabini protested. "But go ahead. It's not a bad precaution."

Bulstrode dumped the contents of the purse out into her lap, and then ran one of her thick fingers all around the inside of it. That done, she picked up a coin and touched the entire surface of it before placing it back in the purse. In this manner, she checked all twenty coins. Zabini, meanwhile, opened his packet and examined the contents. With a wetted finger, he picked up a few grains of the grey stuff and tasted it. He made a face like he had bitten a lime, but afterwards, he smiled. "Excellent. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Harry said, accepting the vetted purse from Bulstrode. "And thank you for checking it, Bulstrode."

She grinned at him. "You can call me Mill, if you like."

"Okay." He felt a flush of accomplishment at that. "And you can call me Harry, you know."

She laughed. "That might take some getting used to, but thanks."

Blaise opened his mouth, but whatever he had intended to say was interrupted by the slide of the door. Harry looked up. Ron was standing there, looking shocked. Behind him, Ginny had her lips set in a thin line and her hands on her hips, managing to look remarkably like a younger, slimmer version of her mother.

"Well," Blaise said, coming to his feet. "Weasley has finished that snogging session, I see. I think I'll be moving along. Coming, Millicent?"

Her eyes fixed on Ron, Bulstrode stood up. In the doorway, she paused, and after meeting Harry's eyes inclined her head briefly. Expressionless, she turned and left.

"Slytherins bowing to you?" Ron remarked, coming through once the door was clear. "Something you want to tell us, Harry?"

"Bowing?"

"Subtly. That 'not quite a nod' thing."

I thought it was just a polite goodbye." Harry shrugged. "She's not much for talking."

"And you know this," Ron challenged.

Harry shrugged. "Ran into her a couple times over the summer. Where's Hermione?"

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Off being Head Girl, and don't change the subject. You hid out with some friend of Malfoy's, didn't you?"

"What?" Harry shook his head. "Are you mad? I wouldn't trust any of them -- he wouldn't trust any of them!"

"But you saw Bulstrode."

"She collided with me when I was wearing my Invisibility Cloak. No, I stayed with the twins."

"WHAT?" Ginny shrieked.

"Well, not in their flat, you know? I'd expect Voldemort to have that checked. The new shop."

"It was open!"

"Only for the last two days. I took a flask of Polyjuice Potion and spent the time in Muggle London."

"How can you say the Burrow is too risky and then take a chance like that?"

"I'm not going to endanger your family!" Harry shouted. He bit his lip. "The Burrow was too risky for you. For all of you. It's about the same for me."

Ron sank to a seat. Ginny's scowl turned more pensive. "And the twins?" she asked wryly.

"What they were doing was unlikely to be noticed. Ginny, if I'd gone to your house, Voldemort would have known. You know he would've."

She nodded, and sat also, looking between the two of them before selecting the spot beside her brother. "You should write to Mum. She was hurt."

"I told Ron--"

"And he said. But you should write to her."

"She's not my mother!"

"True, but that doesn't mean you don't owe her anything."

Harry sighed. Draco had said -- or rather, implied -- much the same thing. "All right. I'll write to her tonight." He slouched back and kicked at his trunk, which was still on the floor. "Since Draco won't meet me anyway."

"Has he lost interest?" Ron asked, just a little too eagerly. Harry responded with a rude gesture, which made Ginny laugh.

"So eloquent, boys."

"If you must know, he says he'd love to see me, 'but Slytherin doesn't work that way.' Apparently the first night back is too socially important for him to disappear."

"Is he back in the Slytherin dormitories?" Ginny asked.

"Yes."

"Is that safe?" Ron asked. "They can be a nasty lot."

Harry shrugged, trying to ignore the implied criticism of Draco. Did Ron think Gryffindors couldn't be? "He says Snape has put some protections in place, and Crabbe isn't coming back, since Goyle isn't. Nott is, but you can't have everything."

"But they'd be sharing a dormitory! How safe can he be?"

"Malfoy has always had his own room, actually. His father used to pay for it, and apparently Snape decided he should keep it this year 'for security reasons.'"

Ron rolled his eyes and looked away.

"Still dangerous, though," Harry continued. "I've asked Bulstrode to keep an eye on him for me."

"Oh! Was that why she was here?"

"Well, it's why I talked to her this summer. We have a deal."

"And that other kid?"

"Zabini. He's been friendly since last spring." Harry decided to push ahead. "You know, since the House Cup."

Ron glowered. "Yeah. I can imagine."

Ignoring Ron's darkening mood, Harry continued conversationally. "Draco thinks you may have the Sight, you know," he said.

"What?"

"My brother?" Ginny chimed in incredulously.

Harry chuckled. "Well, he said if that wasn't pissing in the House Cup, nothing was."

For a moment, Ron just stared at him. Then he burst out laughing, rough and tight, as if it were choking him to find that funny. A moment later, he was lying on the train seat, punching the back rest. After the fit passed, he lay there, grinning at the luggage rack, with the atmosphere in the room considerably lightened.

"You're mad, Harry. You know that, don't you?"

"Could you fill me in?" Ginny asked. "What about, um, in the cup?"

"It was Ron's off-the-cuff-interpretation of a divination picture," Harry explained. "Last spring. Draco had things to say about it."

"He'll be disappointed," Ron said obliquely.

Harry snorted. "He didn't seem to be. Really, if I was that, er, large--"

Ginny giggled.

"What, have you done it?" Ron exclaimed, offended. "I thought you weren't--"

"Over the summer."

"So you met up with him, while Hermione and I get pushed off?"

"At the trial, you prat! In his room. I slept there."

"Figuratively, as well as literally?" Ginny suggested.

"Right."

"Could we not talk about this in front of my sister?"

"You started it!"

"Yes, but she was supposed to be embarrassed."

"Oh, I don't know. She looks fairly red."

"So do you," Ginny replied tartly. "And you haven't even given us any details!"

"I'm not going to tell you details!"

"Lavender does."

Before Ron could get out more than an indignant "Ginny!" they were interrupted by the door opening. Ron hastened to sit up.

"Hello?" Neville said tentatively.

"Hi, Neville! Come in." Harry shifted over in invitation, and Neville came in and sat beside him. Harry tried to pretend he wasn't flushed. "Have a good summer?"

Neville nodded nervously. "Pretty good. Glad to be getting out of my Gran's house, though. How about you?" He blushed. "I mean, I know about the trial, but --"

"After that, I went back to the Dursleys' until right before my birthday, and then I went into hiding."

"With Fred and George," Ron protested.

"Yeah. They were pretty good about it. Gave me Polyjuice Potion, even, so I could get out a bit." Harry glanced around at them. He didn't want Ron to start talking about Bulstrode. "So, has everyone decided what they're taking? I want to pick up Cursebreaking. I've skimmed through the text a bit, and it looks brilliant."

"You've skimmed through the text?" Ron repeated.

"I didn't read it!"

"Heaven forefend!" Ginny commented, rolling her eyes.

"Well, he has gone a bit odd!" Ron insisted.

Neville looked nervously among them. "I read anything I can in advance," he said, and Harry immediately felt guilty. Ron didn't want him to be too studious, but it was a sort of showing off, wasn't it, for them to say they could manage without studying?

"That's good of you," he said awkwardly. "I should probably do that."

Neville shrugged. "It doesn't help me much in lessons. I forget everything when I'm called on. It helps with essays, though."

"Have you ever tried memory enhancing potions?" Harry asked. "I was reading about gargoyle dust, this summer...."

Choking, Neville sat up. "That can be really dangerous, Harry!"

"Yeah? I thought it was okay if you didn't take it more than twice in a month."

"Right, but what's the point of that? I think if I could remember sometimes, but not--" He broke off as Hermione entered.

"Hi?" she tried.

Harry tried to greet her, but his voice wouldn't work.

"What's up?" she asked, puzzled.

"They were talking about memory enhancers," Ginny told her.

"Mnemonics?"

"Gargoyle dust," Neville explained, "but I think that--"

"Neville!" Hermione protested. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"Er, yes?"

"I think that's what he was about to tell me, Hermione," Harry said. "Go on, Neville."

"Well, as I was saying," Neville resumed, darting nervous glances at Hermione, "you can't take it more than twice a month, and I think it would be worse if my mind worked that way twice a month. More frustrating, I mean. And I'd be ..." He looked down. "You know. Tempted."

"What about just for tests, though?" Harry suggested.

"Harry!" Hermione, who had sat beside Ron, jumped to her feet again. "Really! I would hope that none of us would ever do something so unethical, even if it were safe, which it is absolutely not!"

"Calm down, Hermione!" Harry protested. "It's just something I read about, that's all."

She sniffed. "I know you. You do not 'just read about' things."

"Well, life as a fugitive is kind of boring, okay? I promise you, I have no intention of using gargoyle dust."

"Good." Her expression softened as she looked across the aisle at him. "You don't need it, anyway. You'd be an impressive student, if you just applied yourself."

He smiled. "Yeah. I think I got a taste of that studying with Draco, last year."

Her nose wrinkled with distaste. "I don't think you were applying yourself last year."

"Well, I was sometimes! More than I ever had before, really."

"Well. You're doomed, then, with the Head Girl as a friend, and the Head Boy as a boyfriend."

"Head-- He's Head Boy?"

"You didn't know?" Hermione winced. "Oh. Maybe I wasn't supposed to tell you. It's a nuisance, though, because he isn't on the train, and I had to lead the prefects' meeting by myself."

"No, he hadn't...." Harry trailed off, thinking. Draco had often spoken of Hermione as a rival. "I suppose that makes sense."

"Except that he spent most of last year breaking rules!"

"But if he's the top boy in our class, that doesn't matter so much, does it?" Harry retorted. "Especially if the headmaster is pleased with him now."

"Just for politics."

Harry stared at her. "And aren't you?"

"Yes, but that doesn't change-- Oh, never mind! The Head Boy just ought to behave, that's all." She laughed. "I may feel better about it once I see him again."

"I don't see why," Ron said crossly.

"Well, if he's friendly, still." She sighed. "I know I liked him at the end of last year; it's just hard to remember over more than five years of hating him." She glanced over at Harry. "And my parents saw one of the Daily Prophet issues during the trial; I had to say that yes, that was my friend Harry that it was talking about, and yes, he was romantically involved with this other boy, and yes, that was the same Malfoy who was calling me names and making threatening comments during earlier years."

"Ah." Harry felt himself blush. "I didn't read the papers."

"What?"

"My job was to keep my temper."

"But afterwards--"

"I was too busy planning my escape." He shrugged. "Anyway, it wasn't all his fault, you know. I don't do what he wants unless I want to. He's just a lot of fun."

"Well. There's a lot I don't like about your recent ideas of fun."

Ron snorted. "Not to mention his recent ideas of friends."

"Harry?" she asked. "Who have you been with?"

Ginny sniffed. "Slytherins. There were two of them in the car when we arrived. My brother was horrified, of course."

"Zabini and Bulstrode," Harry volunteered, as Hermione looked at him. "They're both neutrals."

"Since when are you friends with neutrals, Harry?"

He stiffened at the accusation in her tone. "Since I grew up enough to realize it could make a difference!"

"Do you think you're mature?" she challenged. "Whatever you may think, your behavior last year was anything but. What was in the papers was anything but."

"I spent the last month making my own decisions about my life," he protested, "and making them work. I'm learning how--"

Ron snorted. "You were living with the twins."

"Not in their flat. In the shop."

"Did you pay rent?" Hermione challenged.

Taken aback, Harry frowned for a moment. "Sort of," he said.

"How 'sort of'?"

"I supplied the money to buy the place, partially in exchange for the right to stay there. We drew up a contract and everything. Draco insisted on that, so he could put in a secrecy clause that would keep them from telling anyone."

"Oh, so they couldn't tell?" Ron said, sounding relieved. "That will make Mum feel better."

"But what if you were seen?" Hermione persisted.

"I was careful. They supplied me with food, and when I wanted to go out, I used Polyjuice Potion and left as one of them while they were both working on the place."

She frowned for a moment, thinking, and then surprised him by smiling at him. "That's really quite clever."

"Thanks. The Polyjuice was their addition."

"Well, good. I thought you might have been off on your own." She sniffed. "Really, I was terribly worried about you, Harry."

"Not so much so as to track me down when you got on the train."

She blushed and smiled. "Oh, I ran into Ernie, so I knew you were safe. He was so offended!" She paused. "And he did mention a Slytherin boy."

"Zabini," Harry said. "Look, I think it's important--"

"They are not your friends."

"They could be allies!"

"Draco was a special case," she warned.

"Forget Draco! I told you, they're neutrals."

"So they can't be trusted," Ron said sharply. "Stay away from them."

"Think about it!" Harry insisted, looking between them. "There are two sides to a conflict that you haven't made up your mind about. One side talks to you, and the other one doesn't. Which way will you drift?"

"They're Slytherin!" Ron answered, throwing up his hands. "They'll go to whichever one gives them a better deal."

"Great! Then all I have to do is be better than a sadistic madman. I think I can handle that."

"That's not exactly the choice," Hermione answered warningly. "You're not going to be Minister for Magic, Harry."

"Neither is Voldemort!"

In the moments of silence that followed, Harry saw everyone steadying him or herself in some way -- Ron pulling at his hair, Neville chewing at his lip, Ginny smoothing her skirt, Hermione closing her eyes. It was Hermione, almost timidly, who spoke first.

"I don't want you as Dark Lord, Harry."

His breath came out in a whoosh as he suddenly understood the tension. "Of course not! But it's not about that, or even about who's Minister -- it's about influence."

"See, he even sounds like a Slytherin," Ron complained.

"This is why we don't get anywhere!" Harry said hotly. "You think it's a virtue not to negotiate or compromise, or even to figure out what people think -- and it's not just you you, I mean -- that's typical! And I'm trying to learn, and it's working, and I really think I can get somewhere. And with a good portion of Slytherin as allies, we could bring him down permanently."

Again, there was silence, lasting until Ginny smiled brightly at him. "Good enough for me," she said.

While the Hogwarts Express was pulling into the station, Harry watched out the window to see the platform move into view. Hagrid's great bulk was obvious as he waited for the first-years, but beyond him, Harry saw the glimmer of blond hair over black student robes.

"Draco's here!" he exclaimed.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I suppose I can let him into our carriage."

Draco, however, had other plans. By the time Harry joined him on the platform, he had a sixth-year girl by his side. After a moment of confusion, Harry placed her as the girl that had been with Zabini and the aggressive boy -- Cecil something, or maybe something Cecil -- last spring.

"There you are, Harry!" Draco said, stepping forward to give him a frustratingly chaste embrace. "Will you ride with Linnet and me?"

Harry eyed the girl for a moment, trying to push down his resentment. "Of course," he said, managing a smile. "Hello, Linnet."

Ron snorted. "Come on, Harry."

Harry waved him off. "I'll see you at the Welcoming Feast."

"Oh, get your brain out of your prick, will you?" Ron snapped.

"Ron," Harry warned.

With a rude gesture, Ron stormed off, and at a glance and nod from Harry, Hermione followed him, and Neville followed her.

"Well." Draco motioned to the carriages. "Perhaps we should discuss that inside."

Just as they opened the door to one of the carriages, Millicent Bulstrode stepped up to intercept them. "Room for one more?" she asked companionably.

Harry looked at Draco in silent question, only to find Draco looking at him in much the same manner. He shrugged. "Mill's okay with me," he said cheerfully.

Draco's eyes widened, and Millicent sniggered. Theatrically, he sighed. "I see you were not a good boy over the summer."

"I think he may be incapable of it," Millicent volunteered, as she hoisted her trunk into the carriage and then turned back to get Linnet's. Harry lightened his and nudged it into place. "But he was reasonably careful. I would have had to have been devious and determined to carry him off."

"Have you met with anyone else of questionable loyalties?" Draco asked Harry.

"Zabini, but only once, by chance."

"They came onto the train together, though," Millicent said.

"Mm. And thus Ron's temper." Uneasy and not wanting to show it, Harry slung an arm over Draco's shoulders, and Draco cuddled down to let him. "Well, that and you." The other occupants of the carriage didn't seem like an adequate reason to hold back from kissing Draco, so he did, pinning him back against the seat when he seemed as if he might be easing away. Only when their vehicle had lurched into motion did he let up.

"We're not alone, you know," Draco said wryly.

"Obviously. If we were alone, I'd be doing a lot more than kissing you. Sneak out tonight, Dragon, please?"

Draco smiled at him fondly, but still shook his head. "No. I'd love to, but I have responsibilities. I'm Head Boy."

He looked terribly proud of himself, and Harry had to grin back at him. "Yeah -- I heard on the train. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"I didn't think that involved plans this evening, though."

"Of course it does. I am staying in Slytherin to listen to Professor Snape's welcome, and to review the prefects, and beyond duties, to see my friends. And you are going back to Gryffindor to show Weasley that you still are friends, and to show Finnigan that you're still worthy of his protection. Is that clear?"

Answering with an exasperated sigh, Harry thumped back against the stiff cushions. This was in keeping with their plans, but that made it no less frustrating. The carriage rocked and creaked beneath him, and he found himself looking into the evaluating study of the girl on the facing bench. "I'm on display already, apparently," he remarked. "Hello, Linnet. Sorry about ignoring you."

She was already smiling with amusement; now she attempted to rein it in. "Quite all right," she said politely. "Who is Finnigan?"

"Irish Gryffindor boy, my year?" he responded, and she smiled again.

"I just can't imagine anyone your age who could protect you."

"Oh. Well, he's the closest of us to Dean, and Dean's Muggleborn, and had a bit of a fit about me liking blokes, you know. It's nothing big, except that we share a dormitory." He glanced to the side, his mouth brushing blond hair. "Not like Draco and Nott."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, so you don't think he was one of the lot that attacked you?"

"If he was, he got over it. We were on decent terms by the end of the year. Though like a lot of people, he assumed what I did about the House Cup was vengeance on my housemates, and that really had nothing to do with it."

Millicent's heavy eyebrows lowered. "He forgives you even though he thinks that?"

"As far as I could tell, he forgives me because he thinks that -- he feels they treated me badly, and I was entitled."

Draco sniffed. "Gryffindors are strange."

"Isn't everyone?" Harry shot back.

Linnet, who had been watching with wide eyes, giggled. Harry winked at her.

They were coming up the last curve of the drive, and he still wasn't sure why Draco had wanted him to meet this girl, but Draco wasn't leading the conversation. Instead, he snuggled contentedly into Harry's side. "This isn't enough of a reunion. Let me know when you're done meeting your Head of House tomorrow?"

"If you promise to sneak off with me," Harry returned. "Well, once you're done with yours."

"Already had it," Draco answered. He straightened suddenly, reaching into his pocket. "Oh -- I nearly forgot! Here's my schedule. Match it as much as you can."

"Great!" Harry glanced at the paper. He saw "Cursebreaking", but had no time for more. The carriage was rolling to a stop. They exited into a milling crowd of students, and were quickly separated.

The Great Hall decorated for the Welcoming Feast was still a sight to take Harry's breath away. Just inside the door, he paused for a moment to look, and listen, and feel, smiling as the crowd flowed past him. When he had acclimated enough to continue, he made his way to the Gryffindor table and settled next to Hermione. Seamus shifted over to close the gap on the other side of him, and Dean gave him a self-conscious nod. Ron, on Hermione's other side, leaned forward.

"Have a nice ride?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "Privacy would have been better, but I guess it was okay. I've no idea why Draco wanted me to meet that girl, though."

Ron might have responded, but at that moment, the doors opened, and McGonagall led in the new first-years. Hermione shook her head. "Can you believe we were that young?"

"Weren't," Seamus answered jovially. "They're taking them at six now, haven't you heard?"

People all about them stifled giggles as the Sorting Hat began its song.

In Ancient Days four comrades

set out to work as one

To ensure their people's future

through the training of the young

The pupils best inspired

varied for them each

So in one school four houses

they formed to help them teach

Ravenclaw was learned

-- some did call her cold --

and favored those who knowledge loved

apart from base reward

Seeking ever more to know

Throughout all the world below

Raven ride the wind

Gryffindor was fearless

-- reckless, if you will --

and favored those who moved ahead

trusting strength and skill

With courage bright unquestioned

the charge they choose defended

Lion blaze the way

Now Slytherin was canny

-- some did call him sly --

and favored those who saw all paths

both the low and high

To each reward selected

all action best effected

Serpent flow unseen

Now Hufflepuff was steady

-- boring, some might say --

And favored those who persevered

until they found a way

Willing, true, and diligent

'Do our best' their full intent

Badger dig the den

The whole that was once broken

Must be made again

Perhaps it will in this year

Perhaps in ten times ten

Wherever you are summoned

Whoever loves you best

Remember you may still

Have worth to all the rest.

The hall was quieter than usual after the Hat's song. Harry wasn't sure anyone else had liked it, although the last verse had given him a thrill of satisfaction. The staff, especially, looked put out, to a one -- except, perhaps, for a stranger, who appeared to be hiding a smile behind his cup.

For his own part, Harry wished he had been sitting with Draco. He knew exactly how Draco would have nudged him at "reckless," and how he would have retaliated at "sly," and how their hands would have joined at the conclusion. He looked over, just as Draco finished saying something to Pansy and looked back. Their eyes met. Harry wished they could whisper to each other.

"That must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." It was Hermione, instead, who whispered to him, as "Atlinger, Ogden" was sorted into Slytherin. "He looks awfully young -- for a professor, I mean."

Distracted, Harry looked back at the stranger at the staff table. After a quick scan across the others, he decided Hermione was right. This had to be the new Defense professor. He was at least a few years older than they were, but almost certainly still in his twenties. His hair was a sandy brown, and he seemed to be in constant motion, first fidgeting with his fork and then shifting restlessly in his chair. Only infrequently did he pause long enough to take in a bite of food, which might explain how thin he was.

"Grant, Samuel" was sorted into Gryffindor, requiring Harry to return his attention to the Sorting. He clapped for the boy, whose cheeks burned pink as he crossed the hall to the cheers of his new housemates.

After that came a nervous-looking girl with a honey-gold ponytail bound up with pink ribbon. "LeFay, Gentian," McGonagall read. The Sorting Hat took some time about it before sending her to Slytherin. Harry clapped politely, though he thought he was probably the only non-Prefect in Gryffindor to bother.

After that, "Miller, Graham" was sorted into Hufflepuff, and "McDuffie, Robert" into Gryffindor. "Mello, Yolanda" followed. By the time the Sorting was over, Gryffindor had eleven new members, six boys and five girls, and Harry thought Slytherin had nearly as many.

"My dear friends," Dumbledore said, as the last first-year student settled at the Ravenclaw table, "students and colleagues, let me welcome you to Hogwarts. Some of you are returning to a second home, while some have just crossed the threshold of a new adventure. Welcome, all!

"Before we begin the marvelous feast that awaits us, I have a few announcements. First, I would like all of you to still be here at the end of the term. Therefore, please remember that the Forbidden Forest is, as the name clearly states, forbidden. Second, the girls' lavatory on the second floor is closed for repairs. Third--"

Harry didn't hear the third item. The blood in his ears drowned out everything around him. He stared across the room at Draco, and Draco stared back, but they did not spontaneously develop telepathy. The second-floor bathroom! If they couldn't get in there, how would they get down to the Chamber of Secrets? Harry didn't believe it was chance. Dumbledore must know what he was doing.

Despite his worries, it was impossible not to enjoy the Welcoming Feast. While he sampled delicious dishes, Hermione was cheerfully babbling about what options to take for her final year. A stranger might have called it fretting, but Harry could tell she was enjoying every tortured choice. Some of the younger students were looking at him and whispering, but everyone in his year seemed to be fine -- even Dean gave him a quick smile. Further down the table, Damian, one of the Gryffindor Beaters, pointed to him and said something to the younger girl with him. Harry felt his relaxed mood fade. Hermione tsked.

"I wish the younger ones wouldn't gossip about you. It's not as if they can't speak to you in the common room. Do you see how they're staring?"

"Mm, yeah." Harry pushed his nearly empty dinner plate a few inches away. "I'm wondering if I should have brought my hip flask."

"You have a hip flask?" Hermione asked, scandalized. Harry was aware of the conversations around them fading.

"Of course," he said. "Hermione, I practically lived on Polyjuice Potion--"

Seamus sprayed pumpkin juice halfway across the table. Dean and Ron burst out laughing. Hermione laughed too, the sound tight and high with nerves. "You're awful," she said, when she could.

The spattered juice vanished and desserts appeared. Harry grinned and pounced on the treacle tart. "Let them stare."

After dinner, the seventh-year students stayed together on the walk up to Gryffindor. Harry said hello to Parvati, who blushed and made polite conversation for a flight of steps, and to Lavender, who gave him a flirtatious look and then resumed her conversation with a sixth-year boy. Hermione left them to attend to the first-years, so when they got to the tower, the boys continued up to their dormitory. There, they settled down, Harry and Ron on Ron's bed, and Dean and Neville on Seamus's bed, and Seamus on the window seat between. Harry floated his trunk out as a table and brought out Muggle ginger chews, and Ron chocolate frogs, and Seamus some sort of oat thing that wasn't half bad.

For a while, Harry just listened to the others chat about their summers, and at first, they let him stay out of it. It was Dean who finally looked his way.

"So, Harry," he began. His voice was carefully neutral, and Harry tensed, expecting an attack about Draco. "One of the Slytherins came by our carriage, can you believe that? Didn't even try to pick a fight. He was asking about you."

That was interesting. Harry tried to keep his voice as light. "Really? Do you know who?"

"Zabini," Seamus said.

"Wanted to know how you spend your money, how you treat your friends, that sort of thing."

"Ah. What did you tell him?"

Dean shrugged. "You and Ron are either best friends or not speaking, but it's all straightforward, and you're fair more than not, and I didn't know you had money until Malfoy got to you."

Harry couldn't keep from looking at Ron, who was turning red. He thought he must be himself.

"That is," Seamus added, shrugging, "not more money than it took to buy a sackful of sweets to share, but what else would we have bought at that age?"

"How did he react?" Harry asked, worried.

Dean sniggered. "Like a Slytherin."

"Considering it," Seamus qualified.

Dean twitched, and for a moment, Harry thought that something about the account bothered him, but then he reached into his sleeve. "Splotch woke up," he explained, and with an apologetic dip of his head, reached into his sleeve. When he drew out a rat, Ron visibly flinched.

"Sorry," Ron said quickly.

Harry tried not to let his own tension show. At least the rat was nothing like Scabbers. It was a young, sleek animal, its body mostly white, and its head mostly brown, but with a glossy brown patch on one white flank, and a white blaze down its brown face. Its pink nose twitched curiously, vibrating white whiskers. On his arm, Harry felt a tightening, just as Susara's curiosity nudged into his mind. He gave her silent permission to move, and she wound down his arm and peeked out, testing the air with her tongue.

Dean's rat, now on the bedspread, raised its back and rattled its tail, producing an uncharacteristic hiss from Susara.

"Pet!" Harry scolded. "He's too big for you to fight."

"I want it to leave," she retorted sulkily.

"He belongs with--" Names would not translate. "My den-friend. He will not leave."

"It--" Her tongue flickered again. "She belongs with your friend like me with you?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yes."

"Ssss." With a contemptuous flick of her tail, Susara went up his arm, this time setting possessively around the back of his neck. Harry stroked her and chuckled at the sight of Dean similarly soothing his rat.

"Care to translate?" Seamus suggested, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. "What do you expect? He's my roommate's; he lives here too."

Dean smiled weakly. "She, actually, but yeah. That's about what I'd tell her if I could."

The silence grew too long. Neville cleared his throat. "So," he said bravely, as if Ron wasn't rigid with tension, and Dean visibly uneasy, "what are people going to ask for? Tomorrow, I mean. For lessons."

"I'm dropping Potions," Ron said quickly.

"Me too," Dean agreed, and they shared a quick, relieved smile.

"I wish I could," Neville said mournfully.

Ron nudged him. "Your gran won't let you?"

Neville looked offended. "That's not her decision now. No, it's Herbology. I know that's what I want a career in, and I need supplemental Potions knowledge for most options. It doesn't have to be a high NEWT -- I can get a tutor and retake a qualifying exam in many cases -- but I need to have attempted the NEWT to qualify for that."

"Rough," Ron sympathized.

"At least I can drop Transfiguration," Neville said. "That will give me more time. I'm still deciding about Charms."

"I'm dropping Care of Magical Creatures," Harry said, glad to be talking about something safe. "And I'd better tell Hagrid before someone else does -- first thing tomorrow probably."

Ron looked sympathetic. "Can't say as I blame you, but he'll take that hard."

"Well, I want to take Cursebreaking and Symbology, so I had to drop four."

"Let me guess: Divination, Potions, and Herbology?"

"Divination, Herbology, and History of Magic."

Ron stared. "Not Potions? Are you feeling all right in the head, mate?"

Trying to pretend he didn't notice Seamus's intent study, Harry focused on Ron and shrugged. "Well, you know. Like Neville, I think I may need it."

"Ah." Ron sat back. "Yeah, I suppose if you want to try for the Aurors or something...."

Harry nodded. Or something. "Right," he said. "I'd like to keep my options open."

Seamus was still watching them.