Harry Potter and the Final Prophecy

     -- Chapter Two -- Celebrations and Commemorations

The last month of the holidays passed all too quickly as far as Harry was concerned. Hermione, when she wasn't haunting the library, spent her time showing her parents around the castle and Hogsmeade, while Harry and Ron practised Quidditch. Harry was very impressed by the progress Ron had made, being selected as team captain seemed to have inspired him to a higher level of confidence and ability, and he was now as reliable a goalkeeper as Oliver Wood had been, while his perceptiveness of the other player's weaknesses and how they could improve was definitely an advance on Oliver's often mystifying tactical theories. Ron had even alerted Harry to his own tendency to get easily distracted from watching for the Snitch.

Krum and his family visited from Bulgaria for a weekend, which Ron endured with thin-lipped disapproval. 'It's really important that we make alliances with wizards from other countries,' Hermione insisted, 'they're suffering attacks from giants and vampires in league with Voldemort and they need our help!'

Harry suspected Ron was more agitated about alliances that might be formed between Krum and Hermione however, rather than matters of international magical co-operation.

Harry himself was increasingly frustrated by the conspiracy of silence that seemed to surround him. Hagrid had refused to go into more details than they could already have guessed about his attempts to build up a force of ''friendly" giants, and he had still not seen Sirius, and only received one brief note from him. Harry suspected Dumbledore was deliberately keeping them apart in case his godfather let slip rather more about what was going on than Dumbledore thought Harry ''needed to know". Dumbledore himself had not spoken a word to Harry since his arrival.

To Harry's chagrin, Hermione seemed more concerned about Dobby's exclusion from the order than his own. 'They really must let Dobby join the order,' she told them at breakfast one day, 'it's completely unjust, he's done so much to help us, and you Harry, especially.'

'I suppose so,' agreed Harry, remembering that some of Dobby's efforts to 'help' him had more resembled attempts to get him expelled or to maim him.

'They're worried that he'll still obey the Malfoys if it comes to the crunch,' Ron suggested.

'Oh, that's so stupid,' said Hermione as Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny joined them. She spent the rest of breakfast insistently lobbying Arthur and Molly for Dobby's cause while Harry, Ron and Ginny shared resigned expressions and tried to avoid getting involved.

*

It wasn't until the last week of the holidays that the long-awaited letters announcing the booklist for the final year, and informing those students that had been made prefects, arrived. Professor McGonagall delivered them by hand to the common room before breakfast, giving Ron and Hermione a small smile as she passed out the thick parchment envelopes. By now Harry had given up hope of becoming a prefect, and sure enough his letter contained nothing but a brief reading list of two books and the usual instructions about catching the Hogwarts express.

He looked up. Ron was staring transfixed at his own letter with a stupefied expression, which quickly became a wide grin. He lifted a large badge with the words 'Head Boy' written on it out of the envelope and brandished it in triumph at Harry and Hermione.

'Well done!' Harry congratulated him, 'so what you saw in the mirror of Erised came true after all -- Quidditch captain and head boy, that's one better than Percy or Bill!'

'Oh yeah,' Ron said, momentarily nonplussed, 'I'd completely forgotten that, it seems like an age ago, doesn't it? All we need now is to win the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup ...'

Hermione had torn open her own envelope and was rifling through the parchments, but brought out only an ordinary 'Prefect' badge. She quickly swept her hand back and forth inside the envelope as if hoping that somehow she'd missed a badge matching Ron's.

'Padma Patil's head girl,' Ron said quietly, watching Hermione sadly, 'it'll be horrible working with her -- she's always hated me.'

'No she hasn't,' Hermione contradicted him, abandoning her futile search, 'she's only hated you since you totally ignored her at the Yule ball in fourth year -- how do you expect a girl to react if you treat her like that?'

'I didn't want to go with Padma anyway,' said Ron, still in an uncharacteristically serious voice, 'I wanted to go with ...'

'Fleur Delacour,' supplied Hermione, smiling.

'No, of course not!' Ron protested, flushing red with embarrassment.

Harry was beginning to feel he should disappear from the common room. 'Head boys and head girls are never from the same house,' he reassured Hermione, 'it would smack of favouritism towards Gryffindor to make you both head prefects. It's nothing you've done wrong, I'm sure.'

'Yeah,' Ron agreed, 'imagine if they'd chosen Malfoy and you, eh? At least this way you've got time to concentrate on the NEWTs. God knows how I'm going to fit in any revision with everything else I'm supposed to do ...'

Ginny stumbled downstairs, yawning, and picked up her own letter, which contained the expected prefect badge. She grinned at Harry as Ron experimented with putting his new badge on, examining his reflection in the window glass to find a position to pin it where it would look the most impressive and intimidating. Hermione however still seemed uncharacteristically downcast as they headed for the Great Hall.

Despite her disappointment, Hermione enlisted Harry and Ginny in organising a surprise celebration party for Ron in the evening, with a vast array of special pasties and savouries contributed by Dobby, and butterbeer and sweets which Harry and Ginny had collected from Hogsmeade using the secret tunnel from Hogwarts into the village. The party was also supposed to celebrate Ron finally achieving his apparition license, as he'd just scraped through the test the previous week. Mr and Mrs Weasley and Professor McGonagall and Luna Lovegood also joined them, Mrs Weasley positively glowing with pride, until McGonagall called a halt to proceedings at 2am.

*

Dumbledore booked them places on the Knight Bus on the 31st of August to return to London to buy their final year robes and new books, and the Lovegoods, Hermione's parents and Mr and Mrs Weasley went as well, together with Lupin, Tonks and Mad-eye Moody, as a rather conspicuous escort. Harry noticed with a sinking feeling that the driver, Ernie Prang, seemed to have become even more short-sighted, squinting myopically through his thick glasses at the Hogwarts gates as they boarded. By the time the bus had hurtled back and forth across the country to a dozen different destinations, with manifest disregard for anything that might get in its way, such as houses, other vehicles or people, and had screeched to a juddering halt outside the Leaky Cauldron, they were all feeling very ill, and Hermione's parents, who had never experienced this particularly unpredictable and uncomfortable form of wizard transport before, were positively trembling. They stayed in the Leaky Cauldron bar with Lupin and Tonks to recover, while Harry and the others headed down Diagon Alley to number ninety-three, Fred and George's shop. Mrs Weasley cast increasingly dark glares at her husband as they got nearer to it, clearly still very unconvinced about the wisdom of accepting the twins' hospitality.

Luna and her strange long-haired hippyish father disappeared into a mysticism shop, ''Zixi's", its windows covered with sun symbols and cryptic rune ideograms, where they would be staying. This part of Diagon Alley was full of disreputable and shabby businesses, second-hand cauldron shops, tatty junk shops with filthy windows, shops announcing ''Closing Down Sale: Everything for a Galleon!" in faded writing, and pawnbrokers with shifty Mundungous-like characters slinking around. 'C'mon, don't hang about,' Moody growled as Ginny stopped to peer into a foul-smelling cafe with its windows obscured by grimy net curtains.

The joke shop was by far the busiest in the area, a steady stream of people continually going in and out. The sign on the door proclaimed ''Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes!" with the inscription ''Purveyors of Magical Mayhem since 1983" beneath. Mad-eye Moody stood guard outside as they went in.

Inside, a busy crowd of Hogwarts students and some furtive adults filled the shop, buying ''Transfiguration Surprises" (''Turn someone into a hag or ghoul for a day!"), ''Confounding Quills", ''Ton-Tongue Toffees", ''Self-replicating boil powder" or one of the many other dubious products that were piled on the shelves and displays.

Fred greeted them with a mock bow to Ron, who scowled, and Lee Jordan grinned and waved to them as he served a long line of customers.

'If you'll follow us, we'll show you to your quarters, ladies and gentlemen,' said George, leading the way through a door behind the counter and up a narrow twisting flight of stairs which creaked and sagged ominously as they climbed it. 'Voila,' announced George grandly, opening the door of a small cluttered room at the top of the stairway and ushering his parents in. Fred opened the door of a similar-sized room leading off it. Harry could see that both looked over the street and the sound of excited voices and the explosions of merchandise from the shop below could be heard clearly through the bare and dusty floorboards.

'I don't know how we're going to manage,' Mrs Weasley sighed, looking around sadly at the chaotic mess that filled the rooms.

'It won't be for long, Molly,' Mr Weasley tried to reassure her. 'Once things are safe, we'll get our own house again.'

'If you find something you think might be dangerous, just give us a call,' Fred suggested helpfully.

'Yeah, don't touch it, because chances are it will be dangerous,' added George.

They left their parents dismally contemplating their new home and led Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny downstairs to the basement, which was being used as a storeroom and factory for the shop. 'Really, don't touch anything down here,' Fred warned, 'if something's under development even we won't know the cure for it.'

'Did you ever find anything to counter that invisibility lotion?' George queried.

'Nah, Lee's still walking round with an invisible elbow. So maybe it's not quite ready for the market yet ...'

Harry and the others headed back up to Diagon Alley, not wanting to spend any more time than necessary in the gloomy cellar with its peculiar smells and ominously rustling crates.

In Flourish and Blotts they looked up the new textbook recommended for their Defence against the Dark Arts classes: Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Practical Guide by Elanora Vanadair. 'Oh, this is good,' said Hermione approvingly as she flicked through the glossy American imprint. 'Look at this illustration of a Patronus driving a Lethifold away!'

'But have you checked how much it is?' said Ron worriedly. 'You could get the collected works of Gilderoy Lockhart for that price.'

After buying everything they needed they sat at a table outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour, watching the other Hogwarts students come and go. Mad-eye Moody was still keeping an eye on them from a corner table, sniffing suspiciously at his pot of tea. Dean turned up and Ginny went off with him to a more private table inside the cafe, then Seamus and Lavender walked past obliviously hand-in-hand without spotting them. Hermione tutted in disapproval. 'What's wrong?' asked Harry, puzzled.

Hermione frowned as if wondering if she should say what was on her mind. 'It's just that why does she have to trail around after him like that, as if she can't do anything on her own anymore? Some of the girls in our year have become such simpering saps,' she said testily, stabbing her spoon into her chocolate sundae.

'How are things going with Krum?' Harry asked innocently, and instantly regretted this as Hermione glared furiously at him.

'I don't want to talk about that,' she said through tightened lips. Ron looked much happier for the rest of the evening, despite the twins' continual taunting about his new status.

The train ride back to Hogwarts was uneventful, Malfoy and his acolytes Crabbe and Goyle stalked past Harry's compartment a couple of times, but seeing that he was with several other members of the DA--Neville, Ginny, Dean, Luna, Ron and Hermione--decided it would be unwise to try and attack him and sloped away again.

As soon as Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall they scanned the staff table apprehensively, wondering who (or what, given Dumbledore's unique approach to staff appointments) their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher would be. Hagrid grinned at Harry as he passed, then Ron nudged him, nodding to the other end of the table. A tall thin witch was sitting there, seemingly unperturbed by the inquisitive stares she was attracting from the students as they filed to their tables. 'She's a part-vampire, bet you,' hissed Ron as they sat down near the head of the Gryffindor table.

Harry could see Ron's point. The woman could easily have been Snape's elder sister, they looked so similar: abnormally pale skin, long lank black hair, very sinister and vulpine in appearance. She was wearing dark violet robes with an unusual design of red embroidery braided into them. Harry looked along the table to Snape as Professor McGonagall led the first years into the hall to be Sorted. The witch's family resemblance to him hadn't however affected Snape's attitude to Defence against Dark Arts appointees; he was glaring at her with his usual expression of sneering dislike.

Harry wondered why Snape maintained such a public resentment to missing out on the job, when he must know Dumbledore's reason for it. But then, he realised, his own resentment at Dumbledore's deliberate withholding of information from him hadn't been improved by knowing, at an intellectual level, why it was necessary ...

Harry noticed with surprise that Firenze was also looking askance at the new teacher, with an expression of distaste and horror that Harry had never seen the normally imperturbable centaur display before.

Hermione nudged his arm and gave him a disapproving frown; everyone was supposed to be watching the Sorting. Professor McGonagall was reading out the names of the new first years one by one from a long list. She had now reached 'Ham, Perdita!'

As each student's name was called, they shuffled or ran, under the intense stares of hundreds of older students, forward to a stool, where they sat and placed the Sorting Hat on their heads. The hat would then shout out the house to which it believed the student was most suited. In Perdita Ham's case it cried out 'HUFFLEPUFF!' almost instantly, and the girl fled hastily to the table that was waving her over to them.

'They look even younger than ever this year,' muttered Ron, 'it'll be like running a kindergarten trying to control this lot.'

'Podmore, Ashley!' A boy with an untidy nest of curly blonde hair came forward and nervously put the sorting hat on his head.

'A relative of Sturgis?' Ron asked.

'Maybe his grandson?' suggested Harry, hoping for Ashley Podmore's sake that he was wrong.

'Ravenclaw!' shouted the sorting hat, and Ashley joined their table. Harry looked away, not wanting to accidentally catch Cho Chang's eye.

'Polkiss, Dianne!' announced Professor McGonagall. Harry gulped as a skinny sharp-featured girl walked reluctantly forward and picked up the hat.

'Gryffindor!' shouted the hat, after thinking for a long time. The girl came over to the Gryffindor table, casting a look of loathing towards Harry, and sat at one end away from everyone else.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. How could Piers Polkiss's younger sister have turned out to be a witch? The family had always seemed as resolutely prejudiced as the Dursleys against anything out of the ordinary.

'You know her?' Hermione asked with a puzzled expression.

'Yeah,' Harry muttered, 'she's the sister of Dudley's best mate. It must have been the shock of her folk's lives when she got the Hogwarts letter ...'

'She doesn't look too happy about it either,' Ron murmured.

Once the Sorting was finished, Dumbledore stood up and the hall became quiet again. 'Welcome, both to those of you who are new to Hogwarts, and also to those of you who are returning,' he said, but his expression was grave and Harry guessed that Dumbledore would say something about what had happened over the holidays. 'I'm afraid that it is my sad duty once more to say some words in memory of those students who are no longer with us. I'm sure many of you knew Ernest Macmillan of Hufflepuff, one of the most outstanding prefects Hogwarts has seen in many years. He was a credit to Hufflepuff house and to the school; loyal, just, always willing to stand up for his fellow students ... Ernie would have been, I'm sure, destined for great achievements, but instead he was cruelly murdered together with his parents in July, simply because they dared to oppose Lord Voldemort.'

Harry looked over to the Hufflepuff table. Hannah Abbott had buried her face in her hands and the other final year students had very sombre expressions. On the Slytherin table Harry noticed Malfoy sneering in contempt and making a covert thumbs down gesture for the amusement of his cronies.

'We must remember also other students who have suffered losses because of the evil actions of Lord Voldemort and his supporters. I refer to the kidnapping of Amelia Bones, and the attack on the Weasley family.'

Susan Bones sat seemingly shell-shocked at the Hufflepuff table. Harry realised that she had now lost five relatives. How much more could anyone endure? How much more would they all have to endure? On the Slytherin table he could see Malfoy sniggering at some private joke with Crabbe and Goyle, pointing towards Ron and Ginny. He felt his stomach clench in revulsion at the sight and suddenly lost his appetite for the welcome feast.

'I would like to give tribute to the bravery and courage of all those who have suffered through their determination to do what is right, even against a greater power for evil than we have ever faced before. My dearest hope is that I will never have to make such a speech again.' He sat down and the plates filled with food as most of the students, with large sections of the Slytherin table a notable exception, applauded him.

After the meal Dumbledore rose once more. 'Firstly, I would like to welcome to Hogwarts Professor Elanora Vanadair, who will be our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Elanora worked previously at the Californian Institute for Witchcraft and Wizardry in San Francisco.' He gave momentary glances towards both Snape, who was still wearing a malign expression, and Harry.

The witch stood up, she was nearly as tall as Dumbledore, and clasped her cloak with long pale fingers which looked as if they should belong to something that had recently climbed out of a grave. She waved to the assembly and said 'Hi there, y'all!' in a folksy American accent which was completely incongruous with her ominous appearance. No-one laughed, however. She sat down again and Dumbledore continued with the usual notices warning students not to do magic between classes, not to enter the forbidden forest, and giving the times of Quidditch trials. Harry realised with a jolt of sadness that this would be the last time he would hear this now-familiar litany.

As they left the hall to go up to Gryffindor tower, together with Ginny, Dean and Seamus, Harry heard Malfoy's sneering voice behind them ridiculing Dumbledore's speech and speculating on the next student casualties. 'It's got to be a Gryffindor next, they're such a vile bunch of half-bloods and blood traitors and stinking mudbloods ... Granger's had it coming to her for a long time, it'll be her turn soon, I reckon ...'

Harry whipped round, his fist balled around his wand under his cloak. 'Come here and say that again, Malfoy,' he yelled, as the Slytherins slunk away towards their dungeon. The crowds in the entrance hall hurriedly cleared a space between them. Malfoy turned and reached for his wand with a look of contempt, but Harry and Ron both acted faster, Malfoy crashed onto the floor, paralysed, by Harry's body-bind curse, and Ron's slug-vomiting jinx shot past him and hit Goyle in the stomach, who doubled up, a tide of slugs and slime pouring out of his mouth.

'Potter! Weasley!' shouted Professor McGonagall as she came out of the Great Hall and halted, viewing the scene with incredulity. 'What are you doing? Put your wands away immediately! Twenty points from Gryffindor and a detention each. Mr Weasley, any more incidents of this nature and I shall recommend to the Headmaster that your selection as Head Boy should be reconsidered!'

'Malfoy was making threats to us, and to our families!' Dean protested.

Professor McGonagall's expression became one of cold fury as she looked over at the Slytherins. 'Whatever the provocation, it is not for you to take matters into your own hands,' she said to Ron and Harry, 'a complaint should be made to the student's head of house, in the first instance. You may rest assured that I will insist that complaints of this nature must be taken seriously.'

She swept away, apparently forgetting to undo the curses, leaving Malfoy rigid on the floor, his eyes rolling desperately, and Goyle spraying slugs everywhere as he struggled to stop throwing up. Crabbe was ineffectually trying to break the spells as the Gryffindors headed upstairs, sniggering.