Harry Potter and the Unknown Power

On the morning of September 1^st, the sun was shining brightly while the Burrow was in a state of chaos. Mrs. Weasley was desperately calling for them to come have breakfast, while packing a supply of sandwiches for the trip. Pigwidgeon and Hedwig were flapping through the house excited by the noise and commotion. Ginny was running up and down the stairs trying to find all of her things, while Ron was pulled his robes from the clothes line and Harry was trying to pull on his socks while attempting to eat his breakfast at the same time.

"The car is here!" called Mrs. Weasley with relief. Harry glanced out the window and saw the familiar looking sleek deep green car idling. Mr. Weasley levitated the trunks and fit them neatly into the trunk as Ron and Harry each carried their owl cages and slid into the backseat, with Ginny squashed in between them.

The ride was noisy, though uneventful, and Harry waited as they each said good bye, with Mrs. Weasley issuing a stern lecture about the coming year, as she gave warm hugs to her children and Harry.

As Harry stepped through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, he saw the billowing steam from the shiny red engine, and felt his shoulders relax for the first time since he had last seen it.

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione came flying at them grabbing them both in a fierce hug, then looking at them with a gimlet eye, much like Professor McGonagall, "You were nearly late!"

As the steam whistle blew, they scrambled onto the train. Harry and Ginny jumped into a compartment in the last carriage of the train, and waited as Ron and Hermione grabbed their robes and ran off for the prefect's compartment.

"Merlin! I didn't think we would get here in time!" said Ginny, her eyes bright and still a bit breathless from the run. She flopped into the seat, and pulled out a deck of Exploding Snap from her shoulder bag, then twisted her hair up in her wand, "Want to play?"

Harry nodded, and smiled widely. Neville poked his head through the door, "Do you mind if I join you, Harry, Ginny?"

"Not at all, Neville, want us to deal you in? What is that?" Harry pointed to the gracefully undulating plant in Neville's arms.

"Snap? No thanks, I lost an eyebrow last term and it took all summer to grow back in," he said as his shining face reddened, "And this is the mimbulus mimbletonia from last year. Isn't it lovely?" The plant did have a deep sheen and its shoots were waving gently, though the boils were rather large and shiny. "I have to drain it when we get to school. Professor Sprout said it was much like squeezing bubotuber pus, but she said that the Stinksap can be problematic. It tends to spray from all the boils at once, instead of just the one we want."

Harry shuddered, remembering the foul rancid stench from the year before. Last year...last year I still had Sirius, and last year I fancied Cho. This year, he's gone and I don't fancy anyone, at least, he thought, I don't think so. Before Harry could stop himself, he watched in horror as the image of the black fluttering veil danced before his eyes. Harry shook his head, trying to escape the scene. I don't want to think about it!

"Anything off the cart, dearies?" asked the kindly witch, pushing open the door. Harry looked up in relief; he welcomed the distraction. He bought Pumpkin Pasties, some Chocolate Frogs and Cauldron Cakes, and pressed gold into the witch's soft hand. Breakfast seemed a long time ago as he crammed the pasty into his mouth, even though his stomach was still doing nasty turns over his earlier dark thoughts. Ginny dove into her Cauldron Cakes, while Neville looked on in amusement.

"Food! I'm starving!" said Ron as he slid through the still open door, "Blimey, that meeting went on forever!"

"Who is Head Boy and Girl?" asked Harry, as he ripped open a Chocolate Frog, and pulled out the card, "Ugh, Newt Scamander. I've got three of these."

"I'll trade you, Harry," said Ginny, "I've got Hippolyta, and Circe."

"Geoffrey Grant, from Ravenclaw, and Emily Jones, from Hufflepuff," said Hermione, "They are both very nice, Emily is top of her class, too, though they are determined to have nothing happen this year. They looked right at Ron and me when they said it, too."

"Can't imagine why," chortled Ron, "Let's see... our first year, we dealt with Quirrel and," he paused significantly, and saying to Harry's surprise, "V-V-V-Voldemort," grinning proudly at Harry, "and the Sorcerer's stone; then it was V-V-Voldemort, Lockhart, and the Basilisk in our second year; and then it was Sirius and Lupin our third year. Fourth year we had the Triwizard Cup and V-Voldemort, again; and finally Umbridge and Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries last year," he said ticking off their last exploit on his fingers. "Face it; we are five for five on adventures during our years here. Personally, mate, I could use a break. How about a nice, quiet year, eh, Harry?"

Harry grinned back at Ron, "I could do with one, too. How about you, Hermione?"

"Honestly," she said, before smiling at them both, and turning her attention to her Advanced Transfiguration book.

"Well, well, well... what do we have here?" Harry would have recognized that soft, mocking drawl anywhere.

"Malfoy," Harry looked to find Malfoy leaning against the compartment door, a snide expression claiming his pale, pointed face, with the hulking shapes of Crabbe and Goyle just behind him.

"Well, well, well," mocked Ron, "If it isn't the son of convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. Tell me, how is dear old daddy these days?" Hermione shot him a warning glance, while Ginny surreptitiously slipped her wand out of her pocket. Ron looked at Crabbe and Goyle with a smirk, "You lot look much better than you did the last time we saw you. What was it seven or eight jinxes that got you? I imagine you spent quite a bit of time in hospital at the end of term." Goyle grabbed Crabbe's robes and pulled him from the compartment.

"Potter," said Malfoy, ignoring Ron, "You know the Dark Lord will get my father out of prison. Father is most displeased that you put him there. The Dark Lord has said he will let Father punish you, before You-Know-Who kills you. Just a matter of time, you'll go down just like that mutt of yours," said Malfoy, with a slow smile. "You should have chosen the winning side. Father told you, you'll meet nothing but a sticky end, just like your parents."

"First, how do you know what the Dark Lord said? Been Marked have you? And second, considering that your father's Master let a bunch of kids beat him and his little friends at the Ministry, and then managed to get themselves sent to prison by those same kids, I have a hard time believing that either of them stands a chance. They've tried every year since I started at Hogwarts, and they are welcome to keep trying. Lastly, don't talk about my parents, or my godfather. You know nothing about them.

"Go away, Malfoy, you aren't worth my time," Harry said wearily. He had managed to put what happened far from his mind, the battle, the prophecy, and Sirius, and suddenly it all came rushing back. Maybe organizing my thoughts every morning is helping. He rubbed his face with his face and sighed, oddly proud for keeping his temper, but not seeing two high spots of color rise on Malfoy's cheeks. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, and with lightening speed he whipped out his wand, and blocked the hex, knocking Malfoy off of his feet. He looked down at him on the floor, and repeated, "You aren't worth my time."

Malfoy went ghostly white as he stared down the business end of Ginny's wand, "Care for a repeat, Malfoy?" she asked with a growl.

The door slid shut as Malfoy scuttled away from the compartment, and Ron let out a whoop, "That was brilliant! Did you see the look on Ferret Face? Personally, Ginny, I think he could've done with a Bat Bogey Hex flapping about his face."

"Ron! We don't want Ginny to get into trouble before term even starts. Harry, that was excellent. How did you block his spell when you couldn't see him?" asked an impressed Hermione

"I dunno, I just felt it," he said. His head was throbbing, and all he wanted was to sleep. Ginny sat on the seat next to him, folded her cloak on her lap and patted it, looking at him significantly. How does she know? Harry thought, but shrugged and laid his head in her lap.

The rest of the train ride was uneventful; everyone was absorbed in quiet talk, or, in Hermione's case, a book. Harry slept peacefully, while Ginny simply watched him. He was thin, but he had started to fill in a bit, his black hair was unruly, but soft as silk. When he slept, she thought, he looked sixteen; it was his eyes that made him seem older. He had seen far too much. She had given up on her silly schoolgirl crush, but she knew she would fiercely protect him just the same.

Harry jolted awake just as the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station. He rubbed his eyes and slipped his glasses back on, smiled shyly at a blushing Ginny, and then pulled his robes over his uniform. They clambered out of the carriage, and made their way to the carriages. "Firs' years, this way! Firs' years!" Harry jerked his head up and caught sight of Hagrid," Alrigh' there, Harry?"

"Hi, Hagrid. It's good to see you. How's your, erm, little friend?" asked Harry. He was genuinely glad to see the half-giant. Hagrid had been sorely missed at the beginning of last year. Not now, don't think about last year, he told himself fiercely. His carefully constructed wall was beginning to crumble. He could hear Bellatrix evil laugh in his head, along with Voldemort's sibilant tones. He struggled for control.

"Fine, fine, come and see me on Saturday, we'll get caught up then," said Hagrid, as he looked into Harry's shining eyes, and ruffled up Harry's hair. "If ever yeh need an'thin', Harry, yeh know where ter fin' me, righ'?"

Harry nodded, still struggling to control the memories and the emotions. Sirius.

Harry looked at the carriages, and saw the thestrals. His eyes roved over the skeletal, leathery bodies and remembered the power in their great wings. He stood unseeing as he recalled the frantic trip to London, to rescue Sirius. He remembered with a start that it was last years trip to the castle where he realized he could see the beasts at all, after Cedric's death, he mused.

"Harry?" asked Ginny, touching his shoulder gently, "Let's go home, Harry."

As he climbed in, he could feel their pupil-less eyes watching him. Soon, he, Neville, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were squashed into the carriage on their way to the castle. Harry could feel the tension leave him as the castle came into view.

"Welcome home, Harry," said Ron, catching sight of his face.

***

The Great Hall was glowing with hundreds of floating candles and the long Head table was full.

"That is probably our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," whispered Hermione. Harry glanced over and saw an unusual man at the table. He was middle aged, with long golden hair streaked with grey, his amber eyes glowed as he surveyed the hall. Harry got the impression that this new professor was apprising each one of them, like he had seen Crookshanks sometimes do. It rather unsettled him, but when the new professor met his eyes, all he could sense was a deep calm and an easy presence.

Professor McGonagall opened the doors of the Great Hall, and led the tiny, frightened first years to the front of the room. She set the stool on the dais, and put the Sorting Hat on top. The rip at the brim opened up and began to sing, but Harry had gone back to looking at the new professor, and wondered if this one would last more than a year, and if he would be a competent instructor. With the prophecy looming over his head, he couldn't help but feel as though he needed to prepare himself. He vaguely thought about reforming the DA, but then reconsidered, With everything else going on in my life, if he is competent, then there will be no need. I'll just wait until the first lesson.

"ABBOT, JAMES!" Harry jolted, as Professor McGonagall called out the first name. A small ginger haired boy climbed onto the stool and looked terrified as the sorting hat was placed on his head.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" Harry saw Hannah Abbot reach out and hug the small boy and assumed he was her brother.

When the last student was called ("ZABINI, ROBIN") and sorted ("SLYTHERIN!"), Professor Dumbledore stood, "Good evening, students. Welcome back to Hogwarts, and for the new students, welcome, and may you find all the learning and experiences that we've to offer. There is a time for speeches, but this is not it. Without further ado, tuck in!" Professor Dumbledore waved his hands and instantly the tables bloomed with food.

Ron wasted no time; he piled his plate high with chicken and roast beef, potatoes and pasta, and began cramming his mouth as full as he could. Harry chuckled at Hermione outraged expression and pulled his own plate filled with chicken and ham pie, and vegetables towards him.

"I had a marvelous time in Italy. I learned so much about the ancient Italian witches, I rewrote part of my essay for Herbology to cover what I learned about herbs and herblore. I don't think Professor Sprout will mind, though," said Hermione, impaling a spear of asparagus neatly with her fork, "I brought pictures, too."

"What sorts of things?" asked Neville with an interested look.

"Loads, I'll let you read my essay if you like, I also brought back some samples of leaves and seeds," Hermione began.

"We played Quidditch," interrupted Ron, "and chess, and loafed about, it was brilliant. I need to have Harry come over that early in the summer every year. Mum didn't give us hardly any chores, and she didn't fuss about our homework once!" said Ron. Ginny nodded before turning back to Colin who had compiled a large book of pictures from their previous year.

When Harry had finished the last crumbs of his treacle tart, and all the plates were shining clean, Professor Dumbledore stood, "Good evening, now that we're all fed and watered, I have a few announcements to make. First, the Forbidden Forest is just that -forbidden. All students will do well to remember that. Next, due to recent changes in Dark activity, Hogsmeade visits will be strictly supervised. Mr. Filch has expanded his list of forbidden items to include merchandise sold by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, of 93 Diagon Alley, also available by owl order. Quidditch captains, please meet with your Head of House for tryouts before next Friday. Lastly, I'm pleased to announce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Felix Leonard." Professor Leonard rose and nodded curtly to the Hall to a smattering of polite applause. Professor Dumbledore said, "Thank you. And now, Prefects, please lead the way for the new students, and good night."

Everyone filed out of the Great Hall; Harry walked absentmindedly to the Gryffindor Tower, and waited at the portrait hole for the prefects to arrive with the password.

"Mr. Potter, a word, please?" Harry turned to find Professor McGonagall behind him.

"Cucurbita pepo" said Hermione. She held the portrait open as the first years filed through. Harry looked down in amazement as they walked past him. They were so small. "Its pumpkin in Latin," she said, at Harry's curious look.

He waited as the portrait swung shut, "I've already talked to Miss Bell, she was adamant that she was not interested in the Captaincy, so owing to your seniority and leadership ability," Harry thought he noticed her mouth twitch as though trying not to smile, "we decided that you were the best person for the job. Congratulations, Potter." She took his hand in hers and dropped a shiny badge into it. The badge was heavy, with a large gold C entwined with a large red G, with two small crossed broomsticks underneath. He smiled, and pinned it on his robes. "Don't disappoint me, Potter. Professor Snape contested lifting your ban, so mind your temper this year. And," she said, with a twinkle not unlike Professor Dumbledore's, "I've become very accustomed to having the Cup in my office. See that it stays there, if you please." He watched the professor take her leave in a swirl of tartan robes.

Harry climbed the stairs to his dormitory and fell onto the soft four-poster with a sigh. He was home at last.