Lumos Obscurum

Chapter 10 - The Return

"Harry? Harry, dear, wake up."

Harry cracked one eye opened and saw a blurred figure hovering over him at the edge of his vision. He mumbled something incoherent in response and burrowed deeper under his covers.

"Do wake up, Potter," came Draco's amused voice. "You're going to make us all late."

Harry forced his eyes opened and saw Draco standing across from him, already fully dressed. Alongside his bed stood Molly Weasley, and he slowly became aware that she had been trying to shake him awake for a number of seconds now.

"'m up," he muttered, yawning and rubbing his eyes with his hands.

"Hurry up, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, as she moved to exit the room. "Breakfast is ready downstairs, but you won't have time for any if you don't get a move on."

"Why, Potter, you look a mess," Draco said cheerfully.

Harry sat up slowly and ran his hands through his hair. "Didn't get much sleep," he muttered. "Had a weird dream."

"Did you?" said Draco, sounding not at all concerned. "Well, do hurry up and make yourself presentable. We'll miss the train at this rate."

At this, Harry's eyes opened fully. The train! That's right, they were going back to Hogwarts today. At last, Harry thought to himself, in a much improved mood already. He threw off his blankets and rummaged around the untidy room for some clean clothes. Things'll get better once I'm back at Hogwarts.

Draco left the room, presumably on his way down to the kitchen for breakfast, and Harry quickly dressed himself and gathered up the things that were still left to be packed. He shoved them all into his trunk and closed it. Dragging that in one hand, and Hedwig in her cage with the other, he made his way down the stairs.

On the bottom floor, he was met with a grand commotion. Everyone was hustling around, trying to pack a few last minute items that they hadn?t thought to pack the night before. He saw Hermione in the living room trying to cram all of her books into her trunk, an intense look of concentration on her face.

"Here, Harry," Mrs. Weasley descended on him and shoved a piece of toast into his mouth. "Get your things ready, we're leaving in five minutes."

Harry tried to tell her thanks, but was hindered by the toast. He chewed and swallowed it quickly, but by then she had already gone. He could dimly hear her in the next room, trying to shoo Ron's little owl, Pig, into his cage.

"Come on then, Harry," Charlie appeared at his side. "We need to get everything into Dad's car."

Charlie helped him carry his luggage out to the garage. Ron and Ginny were there already, fitting their stuff into the spacious trunk of the red car. "Too bad we can't fly," Ron was saying to Ginny gloomily. "We'd get there a lot sooner."

"Yeah, we would," Harry agreed. Ron threw him a quick, indecipherable look, then walked away. Harry sighed. Was this fighting going to continue forever? With an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, he remembered how easily Ron had abandoned him in the dream he had the previous night. It was just a dream, he told himself. Not real.

But he couldn't stop himself from thinking that one day, it very well could be real if things kept going the way they were.

Ginny gave him a strained look, and followed Ron back inside the house.

Looking annoyed, Charlie heaved Harry's trunk into the back of the car. "I'll have a word with him before we leave," he told Harry.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said to him hastily.

"He's a git, Harry, and you know it," Charlie said sharply. "I've seen dragons with better dispositions than Ron. He gets himself in a twist over the small things that don't matter. He needs to learn to control his temper and get his priorities straightened out, especially in light of what's been happening over the past couple of years."

Harry stiffened, suddenly afraid that Charlie would bring up the events that occurred at the end of last June. But thankfully he didn't, and Harry relaxed.

The two of them went back to the house, and inside they were greeted with Mrs. Weasley's usual end of summer shouting. ?Ginny! GINNY! Honestly, where has that girl, gotten to?"

"I'm here, Mum," Ginny said, running down the stairs. ?Forgot something in my room.... Where's Dad?"

"Couldn't get time off from work," Mrs. Weasley said brusquely, batting away Pig, who was very excited by all the chaos. "Something about biting coat-racks or some rubbish like that - Honestly, Ron, control your owl!"

"I'm trying, Mum - ow!" Ron said as he made a great leap for Pig, but he ended up landing harshly on the coffee table, empty-handed.

"Oh bother - Accio!" Pig flew into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand and she shoved him forcefully into his cage. Pig ruffled his feathers animatedly and pecked at the bars.

Mrs. Weasley straightened her apron and looked around. "We're leaving in one minute whether you're ready or not!" she called, her voice echoing throughout the house.

Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage and proceeded outside to the car. Very soon, everybody else had joined him.

"Right then," Mrs. Weasley said. "Everyone here?"

"No," Harry said. "We're missing Malfoy."

Ron made a noise of dissent through his nose. Harry ignored him, but was deeply satisfied when he, out of the corner of his eye, saw Hermione kick Ron sharply in the shins.

Mrs. Weasley took no notice of this; she was busy peering around them anxiously. "Oh dear, I lost him in all the bustle. Where could he have gone?"

Harry was about to run inside the house to go look for him, but at that moment, the boy in question appeared at the entrance to the garage with a dismal expression on his face, dragging his trunk along behind him.

"There you are, Draco," Mrs. Weasley said, hurrying up to him, and taking his trunk. "Here - someone, load this in," she said as ran to the front of the car.

Harry and Charlie lifted it into the back, and closed the top.

"All right, everyone gather in! Hurry it along, now, we haven't got a moment to spare!" Mrs. Weasley called from inside the car. "Oh, if only I could figure out how to work this confounded thing," Harry heard her mutter to herself as she jabbed the steering wheel impatiently with her wand.

"Here, Mum," Charlie said kindly. "I'll drive... Dad taught me ages ago."

Everyone piled in. Harry lingered behind the group so he could ask Draco, "where were you?"

"Just putting this off for as long as possible," Draco grumbled. "It's a terrible fate, I tell you... having to spend an hour in a cramped car with all these Weasleys..."

Harry glared at him and shoved him into the car.

They finally were on their way, at a much later time than they had intended. Charlie was driving, Mrs. Weasley was in the passenger seat with Ginny between them, and Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione were all squeezed into the backseat.

Draco stared resolutely out the window for the entire trip. His elbow dug into Harry's side, but for as much as Harry shifted around, giving Draco pointed looks, the Slytherin made no move to budge.

To his left, Hermione had taken out her book on the history of England and Harry supposed that she was once again absorbed by the riveting tales of Parliament. And Ron, on the other side of Hermione, had his arms crossed and was determinedly not looking at Harry.

To top things off, Crookshanks decided right then to hop into Harry's lap, digging his sharp claws into Harry's legs. Harry closed his eyes and resisted the urge to bang his head in frustration against the seat in front of him.

In reality, the trip to King's Cross station did not take too long (whenever Charlie pushed the green button on the dashboard, the car appeared to skip past the traffic jams they encountered), but it seemed like hours to Harry. So when they finally pulled into a parking space outside the station, it was with great thanks that Harry rushed out of the car. And, massaging the pain in his side, he grabbed Hedwig's cage and his trunk, and set off for the entryway.

Mrs. Weasley allowed them to slip one by one through the barrier in between Platforms 9 and 10, so as not to draw the Muggles' attention. Harry went first, and, after a second of darkness, found himself on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He gazed around and couldn't stop himself from smiling at the sight of his classmates and their parents busy exchanging good-byes and at the same time trying to load their things onto the gleaming Hogwarts Express.

He made his way forward, searching for an empty compartment on the train. He heard Ron's and Hermione's voices appear behind him.

"Please, Ron," Hermione was saying. "Please, just go talk to him. You can't spend the entire year angry at each other."

"Watch me," Ron said shortly.

Harry scowled and, finding a compartment at last, pushed his trunk forcibly inside.

"Please, Ron," Hermione pleaded again as they approached.

"Alright, alright," Ron grumbled. "Just stop bugging me about it, already."

Harry turned and saw Hermione standing with her arms folded, and Ron next to her with his hands shoved in his pocket, looking awkward.

"Have you found a compartment, Harry?" Hermione asked him. Harry nodded and gestured above him.

"Good," Hermione said and, casting a significant look to Ron, boarded the train with her trunk.

Harry looked at Ron once she was out of sight, and the red-haired boy was still looking distinctly uneasy. Harry stared at him and didn't say anything. If Ron was going to apologise, he wasn't getting any help from Harry.

"Listen, Harry..." Ron stared at the ground and scratched the back of his head with one hand. "About what happened with Malfoy and everything... Hermione reckons - I mean, I reckon... I might've overreacted a bit."

"A bit?" Harry repeated.

"Well, maybe a little more than that..."

"You completely blew things out of proportion," Harry said coolly.

"Well, I..."

Harry felt his cold expression soften. "Look, Ron..." he began. "I'm not asking for you to like him. But it's unreasonable for you to get angry at me just because Malfoy and I are getting along now."

Ron met Harry's eyes at last. "I know. I'm... I'm sorry, mate."

Harry nodded. "Accepted," he said. "C'mon, let's get your stuff on the train, it's leaving in a few minutes."

Together, they heaved Ron's trunk on board the train, and Ron set Pig's cage on top. By that time, Mrs. Weasley and Charlie, having finished helping Ginny load her things on board, joined them.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "Thanks for everything."

"Goodbye, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling him into a hug. "Harry, dear," she whispered in her ear. "You'll be okay, won't you? You know to owl us if you need anything? If you need to talk?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, trying to pull out of the hug quickly without being obvious about it.

"Have a good term, Harry," Charlie said, shaking his hand.

"Thanks, Charlie."

"Hurry up now, both of you," Mrs. Weasley said, as the train blew it's whistle. "The train's about to leave."

Harry and Ron said their goodbyes one last time, and boarded the train.

"Hey, don't you and Hermione have to go down to the prefect's compartment?" Harry asked.

"Nah, don't have to be there for another hour yet," Ron said. "So we'll all be able to sit together for a little while, at least."

Harry pulled the door open to their compartment, and they took a seat opposite Hermione, who was idly petting Crookshanks.

"Well?" Hermione asked. "All better?"

Harry and Ron nodded.

"Good," she said, satisfied. "I'm tired of always being caught in the middle of your rows."

Harry grimaced. "You and Ron have plenty rows of your own."

"No, we don't," Ron said, frowning.

"He's right, Ron," Hermione said. "Every other second you think of something new to argue with me about."

"I do not," Ron said defensively. "Now who's the one overreacting?"

"Hello, Malfoy," Harry said loudly, for Draco had just appeared in the doorway.

Ron and Hermione quieted immediately. "Hello," Hermione said, but Ron remained silent and stared purposefully at a spot on the wall.

Draco nodded his greetings back to her.

"Er - do you want to sit with us?" Harry asked.

"No," Draco said, looking closely at Harry. "Just stopping in... I'm going down to one of the Slytherin compartments... haven't seen them all summer, you know."

"Right," Harry said neutrally, yet he couldn't help feeling somewhat disappointed.

"Well, what are you waiting for, then?" Ron now said, turning a cold stare onto Draco. "Go on, go back to your Slytherin cronies so that you can come up plans for your master to take over the world and all that fun stuff."

"Ron," Harry's quiet statement went unheard.

Draco's eyes glinted dangerously at Ron. "It's much more fun to plot your demise, actually."

Ron flushed. "I'm sure it is... why don't you conspire with your dad on this, I'm sure he'd like in on the fun, too... oh wait, he's in Azkaban, remember? Can't imagine it's too fun in there. With a bit of luck maybe your mum'll go join him one of the these days..."

At this remark, Draco straightened up slowly and a tinge of red appeared on his otherwise pale cheeks. "Don't you dare talk about my mother, Weasley," he said in a low, cold voice as he glowered at the other boy.

"Ron, that's enough," Harry said, more forcefully now. "I mean it."

"What's the matter?" he said angrily to Harry now. "He has a go at my mum enough times. And he's one to talk, I mean, you've seen his mother, Harry. She looks like she's always got something foul under her nose-"

"Ron, there are just some things that you don't understand, and this is one of them," Harry said, trying to make his voice sound calm. He wasn't anxious to start yet another row with Ron. "Please, just drop it."

"You don't need to defend me, Potter," Draco's ice cold voice cut through. "I do not need your protection, remember?"

"I'm not protecting you, I'm just..." Harry exhaled loudly in frustration. "Please, just everyone stop."

"I've had enough of this," Draco said, ignoring Harry. "I'm going."

"About time," Ron muttered.

Draco stared down his nose at Ron for another tense second before departing.

"I wish you wouldn't have done that," Harry told Ron.

"He started it," Ron said defensively. "He didn't have to come in here... he's always poking his nose in where it doesn't belong-"

"Insulted his mum, I mean," Harry said.

"Why? The great git does it enough times to us. I think he deserved everything he got."

"Just... because," Harry mumbled. It wasn't his place to tell Ron and Hermione what happened.

Hermione was now watching Harry thoughtfully, and he turned away from her penetrating gaze.

"Well, we're rid of him now, at least," Ron leaned back with satisfaction. "We won't have to put up with the stupid sod anymore. We'll stay on our side of the castle, and he'll stay on his side with those rotten Slytherin friends of his."

"Oh Ron," Hermione turned to Ron now, sounding quite exasperated. "Can't you ever remember what Dumbledore and the Sorting Hat keep telling us? It's not about staying on our own sides anymore, we've got to work together if we're going to accomplish anything."

"Dumbledore's off his nut if he things I'm going to cooperate with a Slytherin," Ron said crossly, folding his arms.

They launched into another argument, but Harry tuned them out, feeling queasy. He stared out the window, berating himself for not thinking of this before. It shouldn't have come to any surprise that once they all returned to Hogwarts, he, Hermione, and Ron, would go back to Gryffindor, and Draco would return to Slytherin.

I wish it didn't have to be like this, he thought to himself, slumping glumly into his cushioned seat. He had gotten used to having Draco around, had gotten used to the companionship... now he supposed that they would have to go their separate ways.

Maybe before, he would've tried to change things, but now that Ron had insulted his dead mum, he doubted Draco would want things to change.

"Harry - you okay, mate?" Ron's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"You aren't fretting about anything, are you?" Hermione asked anxiously. "You know I don't like it when you fret."

Harry cracked a smile and glanced up at his friends. "I'm all right. No fretting here," he said with a weak laugh.

But he turned back to staring out the window as soon as his friends resumed their conversation.

He made a low noise of frustration in his throat. He didn't understand why the loss was making him feel this way. It really shouldn't have mattered to much.... It wasn't as if he and Draco were actually friends... they were thrown together in a very weird and sometimes awkward situation, and they made the best of it, that's all.

So if that's all there was to it, why was it bothering him so much?

***

They arrived at the castle by nightfall. The crowd of students disembarked on the platform, and Harry was pleased to see Hagrid leading the first years to the boats.

"Hullo, Hagrid!" Harry waved across the crowd.

Hagrid returned the wave ("First years, this way!") as Ron said to Harry, "I'm glad he's come back," and Harry nodded in agreement.

"And you are too, aren't you, Hermione?" Ron added pointedly.

"Er, yes, of course I am," Hermione said uncomfortably. "I will miss the lessons on the unicorns, though," she said sadly.

A few students away, someone caught Harry's attention. Draco Malfoy was standing quite still, staring at the creatures pulling the carriages in bewilderment.

Harry made his way over to him.

"Can you see them too?" Draco asked as he noticed his approach. When Harry nodded silently, Draco said, "What are they?"

"Thestrals," Harry said softly.

Draco stiffened. "Oh." He continued to stare at the beasts with an imperceptible expression on his face. The thestral's white eyes were strangely entrancing; it seemed as though they were almost glowing in the moonlight.

"Hey, Malfoy!" Someone called from up front (Crabbe, Harry thought). "C'mon, we've kicked a couple of second years out of this one."

Tearing his eyes away from the thestrals, Draco said quickly, "See you later, Potter," and strode off to where Crabbe, Goyle, and a couple other Slytherins waited. Harry watched as Draco assumed his usual air of superiority, smoothly leaving behind any traces of the unease Harry knew he had felt a moment before. He and all of the Slytherins sniggered at the second years they had kicked out as they clambered into the carriage (standing nearby, the second years stared resentfully back at them, but the Slytherins seemed not to notice).

"See you," Harry said quietly.

He turned and went over to the carriage that Ron and Hermione claimed, and they, along with Seamus Finnigan, rode up the long path to the castle. Once inside, they took their seats at the Gryffindor house table and waited anxiously for the Sorting to begin.

"I hope it's quick this year," Ron mumbled to Harry. "I'm starving."

"Oh Ron, is your stomach all you can think about?" Hermione admonished.

"When I'm this hungry - yes," Ron retorted.

"Here they come," Harry said.

The doors to the Great Hall swung open to admit two long lines of nervous-looking first years. Some of them stared up at the enchanted ceiling (which was currently displaying a clear night sky) in awe, but most of them were looking as though they were doing everything in their power simply not to throw up.

They walked up to the front of the hall, where Professor McGonagall waited with a long scroll, and the frayed Sorting Hat sitting on it's usual stool.

McGonagall began calling out the names of the first years and one by one they were sorted.

"Archer, Michael!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Loud clapping could be heard from the Hufflepuff table as Archer, Michael took his place at the table.

"Cullen, Ann!"

"Can it move any slower..."" Ron moaned, clutching his stomach.

"Wait a moment..." Hermione said slowly as she eyed the High Table with curiosity. "There's an empty place where the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is supposed to be sitting."

Harry lifted his head and scanned the High Table. As usual, Hagrid's large frame dominated most of the left side of the table. To his left sat Professor Sinistra, and a little further down Professor Dumbledore was sitting with his hands together, serenely watching the sorting. All of the teachers were definitely present and accounted for (Including, Harry thought with a grimace, dear Professor Snape, looking as cheerful as ever), but Hermione was right, the Defence Against the Dark Arts place consisted only of an empty seat.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone," Harry said.

"That wouldn't be too bad," Ron said. "We could start the DA back up again, Harry..."

The Sorting ended with "Zebrine, Alexander!" being dubbed a Slytherin, and the students fell into silence as Dumbledore stood. "I paid the kitchens a visit today," he began, "and was pleased to see that my favourite dish was being served tonight. Therefore, the necessary yet sometimes tedious beginning of the year speech will have to be postponed until the end of the feast, when my appetite for spotted dick has been satisfied."

The students cheered loudly at this, and the excited beginning of the year chatter started as trays of food appeared on the four tables.

"Excellent," Ron said delightedly as he loaded a generous helping of just about everything onto his plate. Harry followed suit, but Hermione ate with a little more dignity than her two friends.

To Harry's right, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were engaged in a deep discussion.

"So anyway," Seamus was saying. "The Prophet reckons that You-Know-Who is getting stronger, and is getting quite a bit of support from his old followers."

"He is?" Harry asked suddenly. He hadn't heard anything about this at all.

Seamus looked up in surprise. "Harry," he said. "I didn't realise you were listening. I was just filling Dean in on things that have been happening over the summer, since he doesn't get the wizard news at home, you know."

"Right," Harry said distractedly. "What was that about Voldemort?"

Seamus flinched at the name, but said, "He's gaining power. The Daily Prophet reported a bunch of sightings of him during the summer. At least one every week."

"That may be so," Dean said around a bite of potato. "But the Prophet has shown itself capable of printing lies before, hasn't it? I mean, look at what happened all of last year," he nodded his head toward Harry. "They wrote lies about Harry here every chance they got."

"Aye," Seamus agreed. "But that was them acting of their own accord. Now witches and wizards all over Europe have been writing in to report the sightings and all the Death Eater activity. They wouldn't have any reason to lie about this."

"True," Dean conceded.

Harry glanced over at Ron and Hermione and saw that they were listening to the conversation with furrowed brows.

"Did you two know about this?" Harry demanded. "Did you know that he was getting stronger?"

Hermione and Ron traded uneasy glances. "A little bit," Hermione admitted.

"My mum and dad talked about it occasionally," Ron said. "They usually made sure that none of us were around when they did, but lucky for us Fred and George left us a few pairs of Extendable Ears," Ron grinned, but Harry did not return it.

"Even then," Hermione continued. "They didn't say much about it."

"You still knew it was happening," Harry said, irritated. "And you didn't tell me."

Ron and Hermione exchanged another glance. "We thought..." Hermione started softly. "That with everything that happened last year... that you needed a quiet summer."

Harry stared down at his plate, feeling heat rush into his cheeks. Whether or not his friends had thought it was for his own good, the fact still remains that they hid important information from Harry.

"That's all there has been, though, really," Seamus reassured him, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "Nothing too big... no major attacks or anything."

"So, Harry," Dean lowered his voice and leaned in closer. "What do you think about starting the DA again this year? We might need it."

"Depends on whether or not this new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is any good, I guess," Harry said, poking at his baked potato.

"Well," Seamus said. "We'll find out soon, hopefully."

The dessert trays arrived a couple moments later, and about ten minutes after that, the feast officially came to an end. The Headmaster stood, and once again the hall fell into silence.

"Let me welcome everyone back to Hogwarts! I promise to be brief, since I know you are all anxious to head up to your comfortable beds."

"Hear, hear," Ron mumbled under his breath, slouching in his seat, an expression of tired contentment on his face.

"Firstly, I must announce on behalf of Mr. Filch that any and all Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products have been banned from the school, and he wholeheartedly recommends that you take a look at the official list on his office door, which details the product bans." Dumbledore's mouth twitched underneath his long, white beard.

"Secondly, I am sure many of you must be wondering by now, and it is my pleasure to announce that we have, indeed, acquired a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. But as most of you have probably noticed, he seems to be, well, running a bit late," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled underneath his half-moon glasses, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

To Dumbledore's right, McGonagall frowned and gave an audible "tut" of disapproval.

"Rest assured," Dumbledore continued, "that your new teacher will arrive in time for classes."

Back at the Gryffindor table, a few students tuned out the speech and muttered to each other about the various candidates for the new teacher.

"It's too bad we don't get to find out who our new Defence teacher is tonight," Hermione said anxiously.

"I don't care who this new bloke is, just as long as he's better than Umbridge," Ron said darkly.

Harry shuddered. "I don't think anyone could be as bad as Umbridge."

"We thought that about Lockhart, too, remember?" Ron pointed out.

"Now Ron, Professor Lockhart wasn't that bad," Hermione said, a tinge of red appearing on her cheeks.

Ron gave her a dubious look. "You're mental, Hermione. When are you ever going to get off of your Lockhart fixation?"

"He didn't give me a life long Quidditch ban, I'll give him that," Harry said.

Ron's expression brightened. "Hey Harry - Quidditch! You'll get to play Quidditch this year!"

"Yeah," Harry smiled. "Yeah, I will. Do you think Ginny will do the trials?"

"I dunno, I think she mentioned something about trying for Chaser... I wonder who'll be captain this year?"

"Katie Bell, I suppose," Harry said. 'she's got seniority."

There was a great bustle around them all of a sudden, and Harry looked up in surprise. "Oh, Dumbledore's finished with his speech," he said as he saw all of the students beginning to file out of the Great Hall. He stood up as well, preparing to head up to Gryffindor Tower with Ron and Hermione.

"You go on ahead, Harry," Hermione said. "Ron and I have to lead the first years upstairs..."

"Oh," Ron's face drooped. "I forgot about that."

"The password is 'phoenix tears'," Hermione told him quickly as she led Ron off.

So Harry ended up walking to the tower by himself. He encountered Peeves along the way, but managed to shake him off by threatening to hex him into the nearby Portable Swamp remnant.

"Phoenix tears," he told the portrait glumly when he arrived.

"No need to sound so jolly, dear," the Fat Lady told him as she swung open.

Once inside Gryffindor, he went directly up the staircase to the sixth-year boys dormitory and fell onto his bed, not even bothering to change into his pyjamas first. Although it had been a long day and he was rather exhausted, it took him a while to fall asleep. He kept remembering details of the disturbing dream he had experienced the night before, and he was certainly in no hurry relive those feelings anytime soon.

He tried taking in deep breaths to calm himself, but it was at least an hour after Ron's snoring first filled the room that he was finally able to drop off....

***

"Good morning!" Hermione said cheerfully.

"What's so good about it?" Ron grumbled, as he fell into his seat and threw some toast on his plate.

"It's the first day of classes, of course!"

"Brilliant," Ron grumbled some more.

Harry took his seat next to Ron and spooned some scrambled eggs in front of him. A minute later, Professor McGonagall made her way down the Gryffindor table, handing out timetables to everyone.

Harry received his and looked it over. The schedule for that day didn't look too bad. Care of Magical Creatures first, followed by Charms, lunch, then the entire afternoon was devoted to Transfiguration. Every afternoon, it looked like, they had one of their N.E.W.T. level classes which were twice as long as usual.

He and Ron compared schedules and were happy to see that they had every class together. "No Defence Against the Dark Arts until tomorrow afternoon, though," Ron said. He glanced up at the High Table hopefully, but the Defence seat was still vacant.

"Hang on," Hermione said, staring at Harry suspiciously. "If you and Ron have the same timetables, then you're not taking Potions."

"Er - no," Harry said. "I'm not."

She looked confused, and Ron frowned as well. "Don't you need that for Auror training?" he asked.

"Well," Harry said in an even tone. "I don't reckon I want to be an Auror too much anymore."

"But why, Harry?" Hermione asked in astonishment.

Harry shrugged and stuffed forkful of his breakfast into his mouth so that he wouldn't have to answer.

"Well," Ron said bracingly. "You can't really expect him to go on with Snape's class, can you? After everything that went on."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," Harry said thickly through his mouthful of egg. "I only got an E in Potions on the O.W.L. exam, and they told me last year that Snape only takes students that get an O into his advanced Potions class."

"You got an E?" Ron asked in surprise.

"Oh, but Harry," Hermione said. "I'm sure you could talk to him... or even Dumbledore. You can't be held back from Auror training just for a little thing like that..."

"It's not only that," Harry snapped at her. "I don't want to be an Auror anymore, and that's all there is to it."

"Fine," Hermione said coolly. She abruptly grabbed a handful of toast and stood up.

Ron looked up at her in surprise. "Where are you going? Classes start in fifteen minutes."

"I want to go to the library for a few minutes," Hermione said, gathering up her things. "Transfiguration is this afternoon, and I want to try to get a headstart on reading up on human transfiguring; we'll be starting that soon."

"Oh!" Ron said and looked at his watch. "8 minutes and 33 seconds. Pay up, Harry! I called 10 minutes into the first day before she'd have to go to the library for something."

Harry grumbled under his breath and dug around in his bag for the silver. Hermione stared at them both with incredulity. "You made a bet on me?"

Harry shrugged. "It was Ron's idea."

"Oh come on, Hermione," Ron said. "It promotes... er, friendly camaraderie between Harry and me in an effort to... uh... firmly re-establish our friendship."

Not feeling any sympathy for Hermione right now, Harry snickered quietly to himself and nodded. "What he said."

Hermione now looked faintly impressed. "Does it really? Well then... well done."

"Plus," Ron added brightly as he scooped up his winnings, "It gives me some spending money for when the first Hogsmeade weekend comes 'round."

Hermione left for the library, and Harry and Ron finished their breakfast in silence. Ten minutes later, they made there way outside the castle ("Looks like rain," Ron said vaguely) for their first Care of Magical Creatures lesson with the Slytherins There, Hermione met them (a gigantic borrowed Transfiguration text in hand), and they all saw that for this lesson, Hagrid had brought runespoors, which were three headed snakes that were thankfully quite stoic.

For the first time, most of the Slytherins actually looked satisfied with this lesson (probably because they felt a certain affection for the serpent, being as it was their house symbol).

Once or twice, Harry thought he saw Draco Malfoy staring at him, though the Slytherin made no move to come over. One of the times, Harry held Draco's steady gaze. What? he mouthed across the huddle of students, but Draco only shook his head and turned his attention back to his task.

"Mind that left head now, the fangs're poisonous," Hagrid was telling them loudly.

"Oi, Harry," Ron said, grinning. "I reckon you could have quite a nice conversation with your runespoor."

Harry looked down at the runespoor he was feeding and smiled slightly. One of the heads hissed at him between bites, and Harry told Ron, "He says that they prefer brown field mice to white mice." Then he hissed back to the snake, "Sorry, mate, Hagrid only gave me white."

He looked back up, and Ron was staring at him, shaking his head slightly, a somewhat amused expression on his face. "That still creeps me out, you know, every time you do it."

"Sorry," Harry said.

"I wonder where Hagrid got all these," Hermione whispered to them, casting a concerned glance over to the half-giant. "They're supposed to be really hard to come by."

After the lesson, he, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Gryffindors went back up to the castle for Charms. Harry made sure, however, before he left to mention to Hagrid that he should have some brown field mice on hand for the next class.

The Charms lesson was pretty uneventful, save for the part when Ron's charm went awry and sent a startled Professor Flitwick flying off his stack of books. Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron and levitated Professor Flitwick up to his books again.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he squeaked, and Ron smiled sheepishly.

After Charms was lunch, then they made their way to their long Transfiguration lesson. It turned out to be a more rigorous lesson than usual.

"Expect the rest of your time in this classroom to be challenged by more homework, and more practical lessons than you are used to. I will accept nothing less than your best work from now on," said Professor McGonagall, tightening her lips and looking around the class impressively. "You all have a long way to go before you are up to N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration standards."

Nobody dared to mention that the tests were almost two years away.

Two hours later, Harry was exhausted, yet he had even not managed to turn his gerbil into a squirrel. The best he could do was make a grey, furry tale sprout from the gerbil's behind. Hermione, not surprisingly, was the only one in the class who found success.

By the end of the afternoon, Harry was all too ready to go to the Great Hall for dinner, but McGonagall held he, Hermione, and Ron back. The three of them approached her desk warily. "What is it, Professor?" Hermione ventured.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to tell you that he would like to see the three of you in his office before dinner," she said in a business-like tone of voice as she cleared off her desk. "He said that though he realises the matters of the stomach are most important, he asks that you delay your meal for only a few minutes."

"Of course, Professor, we'll go to him now," Hermione said, sounding tremendously relieved. Knowing her, Harry thought, she probably expected us all to be expelled or something.

He followed Hermione and Ron out the classroom door, then suddenly remembered something. "Er - you two go on ahead," he told them, stopping mid-step. "I'll meet you by the entrance to his office."

Ron studied him closely. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I, uh, just remembered I need to ask Professor McGonagall something. I'll just be a minute," Harry mumbled, then turned and went right back into the classroom.

"Er - excuse me, Professor," he said timidly.

"Yes, Potter, what is it?" McGonagall asked tersely. "I'm rather busy, you know."

"Uh, yes, sorry," Harry flushed. "It's just that... well, Malfoy finally told me about what happened to him, and why he had to stay the rest of the summer with me... but, well... neither of us know exactly why it had to be, well, with me."

"Ah," McGonagall straightened up. "You haven't figured it out, then."

"Um, Malfoy said that it was probably because my house was the closest... but with all due respect, Professor, I still don't understand why you brought him to me... I mean, it would've been just as easy to have him Floo to Hogwarts or someplace...."

"Yes, Potter. Although proximity was indeed a factor involved in the decision, it was not the most significant factor." Here, she paused and adjusted her eyeglasses, staring imposingly down at Harry.

"I had hoped, however, that you two would have been able to figure this out yourselves," she said, and Harry thought he could detect a flicker of disappointment in her voice. "It couldn't escape my notice, nor Dumbledore's notice, Mr. Potter, of the extraordinary similarities between your situation, and Mr. Malfoy's situation."

"Similarities?" Harry repeated, racking his brain.

"You and Mr. Malfoy have both lost a loved one, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said straightforwardly. "In quite the same way, you have both lost figures in your lives that you have deeply cared for. I was well aware that you, Mr. Potter, would not discuss the events that had transpired in the Department of Mysteries with anyone for a long while. I was also aware that Mr. Malfoy would have the same feelings on the subject. Both of you are very stubborn about these things-"

Harry bristled. "I'm not stubborn."

"You are stubborn, Mr. Potter, just like your parents, and I will thank you to not interrupt me again," she said, her eyes flashing.

"Sorry, Professor."

"As I was saying," she continued, adjusting her glasses again. "It was my hope, and Dumbledore's hope as well, that if left alone together for the summer, you and Mr. Malfoy would be able to put aside your differences, for once, so that the parallels of your lives may be examined. Let me make this clearer... it was my hope, Mr. Potter, that you and Mr. Malfoy, because of your losses, may be able to help each other, in ways your other friends could not."

McGonagall leaned closer and her voice grew gentler. "Last June, Harry, you went through a grim experience, an experience beyond what any of your friends can ever imagine, and I'm sure you share my wish that this experience is something that they will never need be subjected to. However, because of this, there was no one who could possibly understand. There are the professors here, and Headmaster Dumbledore, of course, who have endured horrors such as this, but past experience has shown that students have never been comfortable talking to their teachers. Also, I understand that Arthur and Molly Weasley have attempted to talk to you about the Department of Mysteries over the summer, yet you refused. No, there was no one you could go to, and Professor Dumbledore and I knew this.

"Then Mr. Malfoy's mother met a cruel fate, and though it is a most terrible thing, perhaps at least a fraction of it is a blessing in disguise. Now there were not one, but two boys who had lost someone dear to them, both in the course of a little over a month. When I pointed out the circumstances to the Headmaster, I suggested that Mr. Malfoy stay with you for the remainder of the summer, and Professor Dumbledore readily agreed. So I took Mr. Malfoy to your aunt's and uncle's house, and left without a word, praying that the two of you would be able to provide each other with an element of comfort."

She paused again, and her gaze seemed to pierce right into Harry. Then, with a tired sigh, she said, "However, by observing yours and Mr. Malfoy's behaviour towards each other these first couple of days here at Hogwarts, it is evident that there has been no change. Apparently, my prayers have not been answered."

She sighed again and it suddenly struck Harry just how old and weary Professor McGonagall looked.

Harry could not think of anything to say, so he settled with, "Oh."