Harry Potter and the Keys of Light

Chapter Nine: "The Start of Term Feast"

Harry stared through the darkness at the ceiling. It was a nearly an hour after sunrise, and nearly sixteen hours until the castle would be filled with the sounds of students...

There had been a quiet funeral for Hagrid two days after the incident in Diagon Alley, with only Harry and the teachers. Hermione was still at the castle and had attended as well, leaving in the afternoon. The school had seemed emptier than usual after she'd left; Lupin was often out, running errands for the Order, and the lightless windows of the gamekeeper's hut were all that Harry had for company. He went to the Room of Requirement twice a day, the gym at least once, to the pitch to fly for an hour...He was doing whatever he could to avoid concentrating on what had happened. It startled the professors to see him pour through book after book, learning everything he could...

The Daily Prophet had been no help; an article was released a day after it happened, assuring the people that Diagon Alley remained perfectly safe. It had all been an accident, they said, and the Ministry would pay for the damage to the shops. In fact, Fudge was receiving flattering reports from then out, for his diligence in investigating the matter thoroughly (declared to have been the result of a Flusberry spill outside an apothecary's in Knockturn Alley). Harry was disgusted with the entire wizarding world. How could the Ministry be so adamantly refusing to see what was so obvious? Did they think that simply telling everyone else that Voldemort wasn't dangerous would make it so? How could they belittle the deaths of those wizards in Diagon Alley to the result of an accident? Why was the Ministry insisting on their "we have the situation concerning Lord Thingy entirely under control" campaign? Oddly, Dumbledore hadn't come forward with the truth. Why wasn't he warning people? Harry also found himself wondering greatly what Fudge had been doing in Dumbledore's office the day of the attack. Harry had been so enraged that he threw the article into the nearest fire.

Harry sighed and rolled onto his side. He fingered the two rings on his hand, the serpent and the sword...He still hadn't told the Headmaster that he had the sword--he hadn't even seen Dumbledore all week, or at least, not had time to talk to him about it in the brief glimpses Harry caught of him coming or going from the castle. And the longer he had to wait, the more Harry felt that perhaps he shouldn't tell anyone. If Death Eaters really were searching for it, it was better they had no idea where it was, and that no one would be able to tell them.

The only person Harry told was the Professor. He had begun teaching Harry non-Magical defense, starting with fencing. This had taken Harry somewhat by surprise; he had walked into the room the day after Hagrid's funeral, and the Professor had thrown a large sword at him and told him to defend himself. He was an adept swordsman by nature, it seemed, and his added exercise helped him become steadily proficient in the short period before term. What had come as even more of a shock was the day the Professor had asked him to bring his own sword to fight with. Of course, he had been confused--why would he have his own sword? But it occurred to him that he had Gryffindor's sword; he remembered first getting it, in the Chamber of Secrets, defeating the Basilisk with it...at the time, it hadn't bothered him that he seemed to have known how to use the sword, though he had never before laid a hand on one, but it only seemed fitting. So, he transfigured the sword back to its natural appearance and used it. The Professor had been pleased with the weapon, and took some time examining it as Harry had been dressing his wounds.

"How did you come by this, Mister Potter?" he asked, thrusting the blade through the air.

"I got in my second year," Harry replied. "The Sorting Hat gave it to me in the Chamber of Secrets."

"The Chamber of Secrets?" he had said, looking at Harry sharply. "You were in the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yeah." Harry was unsure whether or not to tell the whole story, surprised that he had actually revealed that much. The Professor would probably find out anyway, he figured, so he launched into the story of Riddle's dairy and the fight with the Basilisk.

"You, Mister Potter, are much more than you give yourself credit for," the Professor had said, and then dismissed Harry for the day. He had not mentioned it again.

The door clicked open, and Harry turned to see house elves entering the room, carrying stacks of scarlet sheets in the arms. Harry remained quiet so that they could continue their work. Silently Harry wondered if he might actually miss the privacy and silence, even though he was lonely...despite all that he was busying himself with, the emptiness left by the last four months was unfilled. No, he decided, he needed his friends around him again.

There was the soft click of the door opening and closing again. Looking around, Harry saw that the beds around him were now dressed, with no sign that anyone had been in the room only moments before. Smiling, Harry got out of bed. It was seven o' clock, the sun finally rising in the morning sky. Harry washed his face and put on his school robes. While he was in his trunk, however, Harry got out something he had only just found the previous day--the enchanted Galleon that Hermione had made last year. Tonight, he would call the D.A. together for the first time that year, and share his plans with them. Placing it in his pocket, Harry went down to breakfast.

Lupin was in the Great Hall that morning, which was rare--even when he had been constantly at the castle, the Defense Professor almost always took breakfast in his office. He seemed to be waiting for Harry though, because he hadn't eaten anything yet, nor did he even have food on his plate until Harry sat down next to him.

"Well, last day of freedom," he said.

"I guess so...I'm glad everyone's coming back, though."

"I suppose you're right, Harry. We need the noise around here. We need the normalcy." He took a bite of toast and said, "I suppose you've been quite alone here this summer." Harry nodded a little, but tried not to look as though he hadn't found Lupin's company enough. He said this aloud as well.

"Well, Harry, I'm sure my idea of a great summer at your age wouldn't have involved living with the teachers at school. You've had to deal with a lot, Harry, and I just wanted to say...well, I'm, I'm proud of you." He turned to look Harry in the eye. "Not many people your age could have seen what you've seen, and done what you've done. You're handling all this really well." Harry nodded again, and looked away. "No one expects you to be perfect, though. If you want to talk to someone, you know..." He didn't need to finish his sentence. He had said it often enough.

"Thanks, Professor, but I'll be fine."

"I know, Harry." Then, he reached into his pocket and placed a small package on the table. "I've been commissioned to present you with this." Harry took the package from the table and opened it. A shiny gold badge fell to the table, a scarlet P superimposed on the Gryffindor Lion.

"A prefect's badge?" he said, looking incredulously at it. "But, I thought Ron--"

"Ron handed it in at the end of last year. He said he didn't think he was doing the job very well. Naturally, you were the second choice. It is somewhat of a surprise to Hermione, as none but Professor McGonagall and I know. Well, and Dumbledore, of course," he added as an afterthought. "I really hate to give you more responsibility, Harry, but you're the best leader for your House."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said, taking the badge and pinning it to his robe. "I'll try my best."

"I'm sure that's enough, with Hermione for a partner." They both smiled and finished their breakfast. Lupin excused himself as they left the Great Hall, "still so much to do before term, you know."

Harry went down to Hagrid's hut, as he had every morning since the funeral to walk Fang and play with him. The boarhound had been decidedly depressed without Hagrid, missing his master almost more than anyone else. But he had found a companion in Harry, and bounded eagerly out the door when Harry unlocked it. Harry found a stick and tossed it across the grounds for Fang, who galloped after it, returning the moistened stick to Harry's hand to throw again.

As the sun rose, however, Harry sat in the shade by the lake, Fang lying with him. He watched as a carriage drove up to Hogwarts, and Professor Grubbly-Plank stepped out of it, carrying a large carpetbag and a trunk. A moment of panic passed over Harry as he waited for her to come down to the hut. But when she entered the castle, Harry realized that she would probably live in the school, like she had during previous terms when she had been substituting for Hagrid. The thought of someone else living in Hagrid's hut had been extremely disconcerting, and Harry had to reassure himself that Filch had taken over game keeping duties, however reluctantly, and that no one would be taking Hagrid's place. It was as though Harry feared that the memory of his friend would disappear if someone moved into the hut, and Harry had lost too many people to allow any of them to be forgotten...

"Harry?" He turned back towards the lake to see Professor Tavisham walking toward him.

"Afternoon, Professor."

"Good afternoon to you," she said with a smile, and sat down on the grass next to him. "Are you enjoying your last day?"

"It's alright, I suppose," Harry replied. Fang rolled onto his back and Harry reached over and began rubbing his belly absentmindedly. "Not much to do, though."

"Yes, you're right. It'll be nice having people here again." She gave Harry a warm look and added, "I suppose you'll think I'm silly, but I think the castle is downright lonely unless it's filled with people." Harry nodded in agreement, and smiled a little; he was glad Professor Tavisham had voiced his thoughts for him.

"I hope you don't mind, but there is something I need you to do for me," she said after a moment. "Will it be too terrible to spend your last day of holiday helping me?"

"Of course not," Harry said. "What do you need?"

"Well, I found a set of teacups in the closet, but I think the last Professor didn't want anyone else to use them, because the box keep trying to bite my hand every time I tried to take any out." She held out her hand to show the red line that stretched across it. "I'd get one of the other teachers to help me, but they're all so busy--"

"I'll help you," Harry said. They took Fang back to the cabin, and Harry refilled his food and water dishes and then they went back to the castle.

Professor Tavisham had not been exaggerating about the box. The moment she had opened the cupboard, the top flaps of the lid snapped menacingly at Harry. It took over half an hour to finally distract the box, Professor Tavisham waving her hands about to catch its attention, and then Harry was able to put a Freezing Charm on it. They both sat down at the center table when it was over, laughing breathily.

"I don't know why I didn't think of a Freezing Charm," Tavisham said, "I kept trying to bind it. Of course, it just dodged everything I threw at it."

"I learned it from Hermione," Harry replied, launching into the story of his first lesson with Gilderoy Lockhart in third year, and the chaos of the Cornish Pixies he had set on the class. By the end of it Professor Tavisham was clutching stitches in her sides, smiling brightly.

"It must have been a very interesting year, to say the least," she said.

"Let's just say, I'm glad Lupin's back."

"Yes, he really knows what he's doing, doesn't he?" she said, a fond smile on her face. They passed a moment in silence, Harry smiling inwardly as he watched her. "Well, thank you, Harry, for your help. One last adventure before term," she said, rising from her chair. She walked over to the immobilized box and began placing the teacups on an available shelf on the cupboard behind her desk.

"Yeah," Harry said, trying to sound as though wrestling a cardboard box were an adventure. "I'll see you later then." He said goodbye and then climbed down the ladder to the stairs that led out of the North Tower.

Peeves was hanging about the eighth floor, using chalk to write rude phrases above the doors of the classrooms. He was too preoccupied with this to notice as Harry walked past, and looked almost startled when Harry turned and called a "Hello!" from the end of the corridor before disappearing down the stairs to the seventh floor.

When Harry arrived at the Room of Requirement, he found the Professor reading in a chair he had conjured for himself. Nodding to Harry, he made both vanish with a flick of his wand.

"How is your arm, Potter?" he asked, casting a quick glance at Harry's left forearm, which had received a nasty blow the day before.

"Fine." The truth was that it was incredibly stiff, but Harry didn't show this outwardly--he would bear any wounds he received with the grim determination that had kept him silent in detentions with Dolores Umbridge in the previous year. He took the ring from his finger and held it in his palm. Giving himself a secret smile, he transfigured it back into a sword without so much as touching his wand, which remained hidden within the fold of his robes. The Professor didn't seemed to be at all impressed, but Harry thought he might have caught the ghost of a smirk on his teachers' lips.

"Shall we begin?" A sword appeared in the Professor's hand, and he lunged at Harry. Harry stepped aside, and thrust his own blade upward so that a metallic crash echoed in the otherwise empty room as the two weapons met. Harry's footwork was improving--at every move from the Professor, Harry was a step out of reach, his blade ready.

The weight of the sword became heavy after a while, and then the familiar unpleasantness of his muscles stretching with effort hit him. He kept moving, this time lunging forward, to strike at his opponent's left side. The Professor managed to leap back, but Harry had heard the soft rip as his blade cut through the fabric of the Professor's dark blue robes. They paused, the Professor looking at Harry with a cool, but approving glance. He nodded, and it continued. Harry hesitated for a moment and felt the sharp pain of the steel severing into his skin.

"You are overconfident, Mister Potter. You should not have missed that."

"I am trying."

"That is not good enough," the Professor snapped. Harry felt anger welling in his chest, but checked it. He hadn't been paying attention, and it was no one's fault but his own. But he was still irritated...moving fast he caught the Professor on his calf as he swung around. He got in a satisfied smirk before eyeing the look on the Professor's face. He knew he would pay for the last strike. Sure enough, within the next minute, he took a blow to his left hand. He paused to suck at the thin red line that had appeared on his hand.

"I thought you told me you were trying."

"I am," he growled. "Sir," he added hastily.

"You are distracted, Mister Potter. What are you thinking?" The chair had reappeared with a flick of the Professor's wand, and he sat down in it, watching Harry as he magically sealed the wounds on his hand and shoulder.

"It's nothing, really."

"Mister Potter, in teaching you I expect nothing but truthful answers to any question I may pose to you. Now, what are you thinking?"

"It's just...I dunno," Harry sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. How could he explain the gnawing anxiety he felt about the D.A. meeting that evening, wondering if all that he had prepared this summer would be enough, whether he really was good enough to teach them everything they wanted to learn? How could he explain that despite everything he said, all his frustration and the knowledge that he was right, he was worried about disappointing Dumbledore by continuing it?

"I have this...this...thing, tonight that I was thinking about, that's all. It's not important." The Professor gave him an appraising look.

"If you say so, I will not question you more," he said after a moment. "But this thing, as you call it, must be important enough to be distracting you from this lesson. You are dismissed for the day, Mister Potter. As term is beginning, I shall not expect you to be here as often as you have been, but you will meet me here three times a week, once on a weekend so that you may spend several hours at studying. I should like to postpone further training in Non-Magical Defense, and continue on some of your school subjects." Harry nodded, trying to hide the disappointment he felt. He could easily get any help he needed from Hermione, so why did he have to spend his time in the Room of Requirement studying? He transfigured the sword back into a ring before placing back it on his finger.

"If there is anything you might need help with, or need help explaining, I am always available," the Professor said to Harry's back as he left the room.

Harry stopped and stared at the door to the Room of Requirement as it faded into the wall, his mind racing at the Professor's words. Did he know about the D.A? Still, it had never occurred to Harry that he might find assistance in the Professor with the D.A. He found himself pondering the mystery of the Professor, as he never had before. Would he tell Dumbledore? Did Dumbledore even know about him? Harry was fairly certain that he wasn't an actual person, that the Room of Requirement had created him to serve Harry's needs...

He decided that perhaps it was time to tell Hermione and Ron about the Professor. He could definitely use their advice on the matter.

The sun was beginning to set outside. It was six o'clock, and the creamy reddish- orange that painted the sky was filling the castle with a softly warm glow. Harry went to the Gryffindor common room and settled himself into his favorite squashy armchair by the fireplace, watching the sunset. The minutes passed restlessly, and after a while, Harry walked down to the grand staircase, where he could watch for the students as they came up the drive.

"Harry," said a voice behind him, and Harry turned to see Professor Lupin standing next to him. "Would you like to come with me to meet the train?"

"Would I," Harry said enthusiastically. Lupin smiled at him, and together they went down to the entrance hall and out the front doors, where one of the thestral drawn carriages waited for them.

"Professor Grubbly-Plank had too much to do, you see, having only just arrived," Lupin said as they were driven down the sloping drive and through the gate with the boars on either side. "When she asked me to fetch the first years, I thought of you and said yes. I thought it might be nicer to ride with your friends back to the castle--something a little more normal."

"Thanks," Harry said, feeling a strong sense of gratitude toward the Defense Professor. The carriage rattled down the high street, and Harry absentmindedly straightened the prefect's badge pinned to his chest. When at last they arrived at the station, the thestral pulling their carriage immediately went to join its fellows in a line outside the station.

It was strange to see the train station so empty. Harry had never been in it without the company of hundreds of fellow students, and the noise of their calls and the thumping of their trunks as they were lowered off the train. Harry checked his watch every few minutes, until finally, he saw a small pinprick of light in the distance. His breathing quickened excitedly, the light growing large, brighter...the sound of the train's whistle could be heard, the gentle chugging of the engine audible. The sound grew louder, the light brighter, until finally, Harry saw the red gleam of the station lights on the Hogwarts Express as it pulled into the station. There was a tremendous hiss, and smoke briefly clouded Harry's eyes, before thinning enough for him to see the first of the compartment doors opening, and the first students clambering out. Professor Lupin gave a quick smile before moving down the platform, calling out,

"First years! First years over here please!" Harry positioned himself just outside a circle of lamplight, next to the exit, so that he would be certain to eye Hermione and Ron before they saw him. Sure enough, after a while, he caught a glimpse of bushy hair, that could only be Hermione, and the tell tale red of the two youngest Weasleys. As they walked closer, Harry saw that they were in the company of Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. Harry's stomach clenched slightly at the sight of Luna's blonde hair, and he felt glad that he had forgotten to remove the snake ring from his hand, and hoped that she would see him wearing it.

"I told you," Hermione's voice said, becoming distinct in the noise of the platform, "I don't know who the new Prefect is. No one seemed to know."

"You must have some idea," Ginny said.

"Probably another stupid fifth year," Ron said in a revolted tone. "You'll be outnumbered by them!" They passed the spot where Harry stood, and Harry walked behind them, waiting for the moment when he should make his presence known. Luna glanced at him and smiled slightly, but seemed to know what he was doing, and continued looking forward as though unaware that he was next to her.

"I'm not so sure about that," Harry said. "It'd be stupid to pick three fifth year prefects."

"Exactly," Hermione said. "You see, Harry knows--Harry!" She turned around and hugged him. The rest of the group had stopped and were all smiling. "I didn't know you were coming to meet us!"

"Hey mate," Ron said, grinning as well.

"Hi, Harry," Neville said. Harry looked at him in surprise--Neville had lost weight over the summer, his round face less fleshy than it once was, height closer to the rest of the boys in their year.

"So, how was your final day without us?" Ginny said, as they continued walking toward the carriages. Harry told them about his afternoon with Fang and Tavisham, which made most of them laugh.

"Leave it to Trelawney to make sure no one could replace her," Ron said with a snort. "Probably afraid someone might do it properly." They got to one of the carriages and Harry helped Hermione, Ron and Ginny as they put their trunks inside, but Neville seemed transfixed on the spot.

"Neville?" Harry said.

"They're so strange, aren't they?" he said quietly. "I was just reminded of the last time we rode them." Harry took in the fact that Neville had been with him in the Department of Mysteries last June, and fully appreciated the fact that he had not been the only one to see Sirius fall through the veil...

"You know they're harmless, Neville. Don't worry about it." This had come from Luna, whose voice was uncharacteristically matter-of-fact. She gave Neville a reassuring pat and climbed into the carriage. Neville seemed to come back to himself, and nodded at Harry before following Luna. Harry got in after them and then the carriage was rattling up the High street of Hogsmeade toward he castle.

"Wasn't that Professor Lupin?" Neville asked. "Why wasn't Hagrid there?" Hermione, Ron and Harry exchanged nervous glances.

"Hagrid...Hagrid died last week, Neville," Hermione said quietly. "In that blast in Diagon Alley." The carriage fell into a melancholy silence that was not broken until the carriage stopped outside the school. They climbed out and entered the crowd of students filing into the entrance hall.

"I'm glad Lupin's back though," Neville said, finally, as they walked up the steps. They nodded in silent agreement, and the matter seemed closed. Before they could enter the castle, however, Harry found himself face to face with one of the last people he wanted to meet.

"Well, well, well," drawled Draco Malfoy, looking at them all from the entrance. "Here he is, Potter himself. Too good to take the train, Potter? Personally, I could understand not wanting to spend all day with a moron, a loon and a mudblood." Crabbe and Goyle, ever shadowing Malfoy, began guffawing, while Neville glared defiantly.

"I suggest you move," Harry said. He had reached the top step, and was looking directly into Malfoy's eye.

"Or what? You going to sic your guard on me? You've got no idea who you're dealing with Potter," Malfoy said coldly.

"Oh, I think we have a pretty good idea," Ginny said heatedly. "A prissy little rich boy whose entire reputation relies on his trained lap dogs laughing at his jokes and doing his dirty work."

"You filthy little--" Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna had all pulled their wands, but Harry had his hand pointing directly at Malfoy.

"Say one more word, Malfoy, and you'll seriously regret it." Malfoy gave him an I'd-like-to-see-you-try-it sort of look, and Harry put his arm down. Harry could see that several people had stopped to watch them, several of whom Harry knew to be D.A. members. He put a hand in his pocket and pushed at the galleon gently. All around him, people reached for their pockets. While they were distracted, Harry leaned forward so that only Malfoy could hear him,

"I'm not going to fight with you Malfoy. But if you attack me, I promise that you will not walk away unharmed." With that he stepped past Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, and walked into the Great Hall. The students that had remained outside waiting for them to move, as well as Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville followed him, pouring into the Great Hall where most of the school was seating itself.

"Stupid git, Malfoy," Ron growled, watching as the three Slytherins entered after them and sat down at their table on the other side of the Great Hall. "What did you say to him anyway?"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, taking a seat near the middle of the table, across from Seamus and Dean. Luna had said goodbye to them at the Ravenclaw table, but Ginny sat down on Hermione's right side instead of joining her friends.

"Harry," she said, looking down at him, "did you purposely activate the galleon just now?"

"Yes, I did." Seamus and Dean were both looking at Harry as though they had been wondering the same thing. "I couldn't have all of you attacking Malfoy on the first night and get in trouble. Really, though, I want to meet tonight."

"But where?" Dean asked, leaning across so that only they could hear him.

"Same place. Without Umbridge, it should be fine. Meet there in an hour, and tell the others where we'll be." They nodded and Ginny moved down the table. The noise subsided as Professor McGonagall entered; she was carrying an old wooden stool atop which sat a tattered old hat, patched in several places. A line of scared looking first years followed her, looking anxiously around at the tables, as though searching for some sign of the test that they were about to be put through. The stool was put at the front of the Hall, and all noise ceased as the brim of the hat opened like a mouth and began its song,

"Another year at Hogwarts School,

Another year I sing my song,

Again I sit on this little stool,

To tell you where you belong.

Dividing you into Houses Four,

Based on Character's true worth,

But could I choose, I nary do it more.

In times so grim,

When all seems lost,

We find strength within,

To survive all that has past.

I tell you now, Division only hurts.

You will see it for your own eyes,

As these dark days grow worse.

And yet I must do this thing I despise,

Though I can still ask,

So listen well,

Despite my unhappy task,

On these words do dwell:

Houses four do not divide,

With all that's in your power,

Put all your differences aside,

In this unhappy hour,

And join together within these walls.

Ravenclaw, to whom duty calls

To reason and to plan, to be the Mind.

Hufflepuff, in whom loyalty one can find,

You are the Soul of the four.

Noble those of House Gryffindor,

The beating Heart, the others you connect,

Clever Slytherin, upon my words reflect,

You are the Spirit necessary to this fight.

Spirit, Mind, Heart, Soul,

Four pieces to the Hogwarts whole,

If together you do band,

Hogwarts will prevail.

A house divided against itself cannot stand--

Should you fight, you will fall and fail.

My final plea in this unfortunate song,

In the darkest hours, Hogwarts four join as one,

Together only will you be strong,

And now for the sorting, because my song is now done."

There was applause, as always, but it was dotted with murmurs and whispers, as it had been at last year's warning from the hat. Professor McGonagall quieted most of the muttering with a stern look, and she opened a long scroll of parchment and began reading off names.

"That hat spends a lot of time on that song," Ron mused. "It must have nothing better to do."

"Oh Ron," Hermione snapped, "Is that all you have to say? The hat has a specific message, just like last year. It knows things are getting really bad."

"Did you hear what it said to Slytherin?" Harry said. Hermione nodded, and looked back at the Slytherin table and sighed.

"It's right, we have to be united. But, I just don't think we're likely to convince everyone in every house--"

"We don't want everyone from every house," Ron interjected, glaring at the Slytherins. "Anyone in Slytherin that'd be on our side is either insane or lying. You can't unite anything with that." Hermione scowled, but didn't say anything. Harry felt that perhaps Malfoy's latest slur against her was too fresh in her mind to argue in Slytherin's defense. Instead, she looked toward the stage to watch the sorting, which had reached, "Dalligan, Sean," who was placed in Ravenclaw. A thin blonde girl then replaced him on the stool. The hat fell down past her eyes, so that her long, fine nose was only just visible beneath its brim. It took a few moments for the hat to make up its mind, and Harry had a flash of de ja vu to his own sorting, when the hat had seemed to take ages to decide where he belonged. Finally, however, the hat shouted,

"Gryffindor!" She got up off the stool and walked over to the cheering Gryffindor table.

When the Sorting had finally ended, Professor McGonagall disappeared with the stool and the hat. She returned a few moments later, and sat down beside Dumbledore. The Headmaster then rose and cleared his voice.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I shall make a speech, but no speech is half as good as one made when those listening to it are too full and tired to pay attention." With this he sat down, and began eating from the now full plate before him. The house tables were laden with food as well, and the students began eating.

"So, I wonder who the new Prefect is," Hermione said, taking a spoonful of potatoes.

"Oh," Harry said, putting down the roll he had been about to eat. "I was going to tell you earlier, I'm the new Prefect."

"Really? Oh that's wonderful," Hermione said. Ron nodded, his lips stretched in as much of a smile as he could manage and keep his food filled mouth closed. "We'll have to take the first years back to the Tower after the feast, so that'll give us just enough time to get upstairs for the meeting." The rest of the feast was spent enjoyably, the students exchanging stories over the summer and otherwise catching up. Harry didn't talk much, choosing to enjoy the warmth and sound of the rest of the school. He was smiling inwardly, watching Ron eat himself into a peaceful stupor, and Seamus gesticulate with his hands as he told them about the trip he took to his grandparents'. Eventually, the rest of the school seemed to be joining him in quiet, however, and Professor Dumbledore rose again to make his speech.

"As I said earlier, welcome back to Hogwarts. A few start of term notices must be given, I am afraid. Firstly, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind students that magic is strictly prohibited in the corridors, as are a variety of things, all of which are posted outside the door of his office. To our new students, a note that the Forest at the edge of the grounds is forbidden to students as it is inhabited by dangerous and territorial creatures. I would like to welcome to our staff Professor Tavisham--"(there was a decent amount of clapping, in which Harry participated fully) "--who has kindly taken up Divination during Professor Trelawney's hiatus. And I would like to welcome back into our ranks, Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking on Care of Magical Creatures, and Professor Lupin, who will be resuming his former post as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor." At this, there was a thunderous applause, in which only the Slytherin table did not participate. "Finally, I wish to pass a moment in silence, in honor of one of our teachers, who was lost over the summer. So, for Rubeus Hagrid, Gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures Professor." The hall fell silent, and Harry caught Hermione wiping a tear from her cheek. Dumbledore was still standing, a sad, thoughtful look on his face. Finally, he said,

"Thank you all for another excellent feast, and again, welcome back."