The Temple of Le Fay

Chapter Seven: Aboard The Express Once More

Harry came down to breakfast the next day with Ernie Macmillan, having met the Hufflepuff boy as they came out of their rooms. Ron, as far as Harry knew, was snoring happily, so Ernie's company was welcome.

"I hear you did rather well on your O.W.Ls as well," Ernie was saying.

"Yeah, okay I guess. Two O's, the rest were A's and E's."

"Excellent. Tell me, will you be running the Duelling Club again this year?"

"Er, yeah, I think so," Harry said. He always felt a little overwhelmed when talking to Ernie. "I need to check with Professor Dumbledore and the other teachers once we get back, but I'll let you know."

"Excellent," Ernie repeated. He drew his wand and waved it. "It will be good to perfect some more spells. I really felt as though I was contributing in Hogsmeade last-"

Ernie fell silent, his wand frozen in mid wave. Harry followed his gaze and saw Hannah Abbott sitting alone in the otherwise empty room, a spoon half way to her mouth and her cheeks bulging with a mouthful of unswallowed cereal.

Harry gave Ernie a small shove in the back and the Hufflepuff boy stumbled down the last few steps and into the dining room of the Cauldron.

"Good morning Hannah," Harry said pleasantly as he and Ernie helped themselves to some toast.

"Good morning Harry," she replied cheerfully. She looked at Ernie. "Good morning Ernie."

"Good, er, morning. Good morning Hannah," Ernie stammered. Harry smiled into a glass of pumpkin juice and walked over to the table nearest to the stairs.

"Won't, er, won't you join us Harry?" Ernie asked, a note of desperation in his voice.

"Sorry, Ernie, first meeting of our house Quidditch team this morning. Don't want you honest Hufflepuffs being tempted to sneak a listen to our tactics."

"Plan all you want, Harry, we've got the best team this year," Hannah said. Harry grinned, and sat down at his table, his chair turned away from the two Hufflepuffs. He fixed his attention on his breakfast, trying not to hear the conversation that was taking place behind him.

A creak on the stairs brought Harry's head up, and he greeted Terry Boot and Neville Longbottom warmly. The two paused to chat briefly before moving on to get their breakfast. They too sat a short way apart from Hannah and Ernie.

The pattern repeated itself over the course of the next half an hour, until the dining room was full. Only the chairs either side of Hannah and Ernie remained empty and when Ron came down last of all, he wordlessly assumed a position between Ginny and Hermione's chairs, sleepily shovelling bacon and fried bread into his mouth.

Shortly after ten o' clock, Hagrid walked through from the bar area and made his way slowly through the crowded dining room, depositing Portkeys on the door and laughing loudly at a joke that Dean and Lavender were having at Seamus' expense.

"Now then, young Seamus, I reckon you'll know better than to drink too many Butterbeers in future, won't you? One on its own might not be too strong, but they've got a nasty habit of getting stronger the more you drink."

"That's grand Hagrid, truly it is. Now please, will you shut up and go away. No offence meant, of course. It's just that you've just got a bloody loud voice."

Hagrid laughed loudly, prompting a groan from Seamus, who seemed to be trying to bury his face through the table.

"Hagrid, please. . ." Seamus moaned. Hagrid was still chuckling as he strode over to Harry and the others.

"Right, everyone fed an' watered? Don't reckon we'll tell too many people about Seamus, eh? Plenty of older and wiser wizards have gotten a bit carried away with Butterbeer over the years."

"Will he be okay?" Hermione asked.

"Eh? Oh, fine, fine," Hagrid said. "Don't worry about him. If he's got any sense, he'll steer clear of the stuff for a while, and he'll certainly not be forgetting that headache in a hurry, but no lasting damage, I shouldn't think."

Ron grinned. "I remember when Fred got plastered on the stuff a few years back, I think it was the Christmas before I started at Hogwarts. Everyone thought Mum would go mad, but she seemed quite pleased, really. I guess Fred learnt his lesson, 'cos he's never got drunk since then."

Ginny giggled at the memory. Harry looked up from his toast and caught her eye, sharing a smile with her. He looked back down, and so he didn't see the small smile she exchanged with Hermione.

*

As little as Harry liked travelling by Floo powder, he wasn't particularly keen on travelling via Portkey either. Nonetheless, he was the first at his table to take hold of the tattered copy of the Daily Prophet which Hagrid assured them would take them to Kings Cross station in time to catch the Hogwarts Express. Glancing at the front page of the newspaper, Harry recognised Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, stabbing a finger forward repeatedly as he made some point or another.

Hagrid stood in the centre of the room, sharing a Portkey with tiny Dennis Creevey, a gold pocket watch in his other hand. He looked from the Portkey to the watch every few seconds, and then:

"Three, two, one, now!"

Everyone reflexively clutched their Portkeys a little tighter. Harry just had time to notice Fudge wincing as his photograph was crumpled under four hands, and then the magic took hold.

It was as though someone had jerked a line fastened behind Harry's stomach. He felt himself pulled forward. A small part of his mind knew that the others must also have felt the pull, and wondered why they didn't slam into one another, facing each other as they were. The rest of him experienced the same slight nausea he always felt when using magical transport.

Just as suddenly as the trip had begun, they arrived. Harry had bent his knees slightly as Hagrid counted down and he landed easily on platform 9 and ¾. Ron staggered beside him, and Harry threw out an arm to hold his friend upright. All around them, clusters of their fellow students were popping into existence. Hagrid strode through the crowd, collecting Portkeys and urging them aboard the train.

"Quickly now. The next lot will be here in a minute. Move it, move it!"

"Are you on the train again this year, Hagrid?"

"Yeah, yeah I will be Harry. Professor Snape and me will be watching the third carriage back."

"Snape's here? Blimey, he can't like that much," Ron said.

"He volunteered," Hagrid said shortly. "Now come on, get aboard."

They climbed aboard the train, chose an empty compartment and piled into it. Seamus, Dean and Lavender joined them soon after. The seven friends settled themselves comfortably in the cosy compartment, Seamus still wearing a pair of sunglasses that Tom the barman had transfigured from a pint glass. Even with the sunlight filtered, Seamus still seemed a little off colour, but he was cheerful enough and even laughed at the jokes aimed in his direction. Once everyone had settled in, Harry and Ron released Hedwig and Pigwidgeon from their cages, the two owls swooping up onto the luggage rack where they immediately fell asleep. Hermione opened up Crookshanks basket, letting the enormous ginger cat out into the compartment. He immediately leapt into Ginny's lap, and Ginny scratched behind his ears.

Harry kept glancing at his watch. He was anxious to be off, knowing he would be feel safer once the train was in motion. Logically, he knew he was being at least a little unreasonable. Dementors had been able to stop the train and board it both the year before and at the start of Harry's third year, but he found himself thinking of a passing remark made during Defence Against the Dark Arts during his fourth year.

"A moving target is always harder to hit,"

the fake Professor Moody had said. "Keep moving, don't fall into a pattern, and your enemy will have to work a lot harder to get you. You want them thinking about you, not about what hex they're going to use on you."

Thinking of Mad-Eye Moody brought Dedalus Diggle to mind. Harry wondered whether the two ex-partners were working together again. For the first time in days he thought of Dead-Eye Diggle's mysterious -and abrupt- appearance in Diagon Alley, and wondered briefly what it was the ex-Auror had done to become so badly injured.

Harry's train of thought was derailed by the compartment's door sliding back, and Ron jumping to his feet. Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, alone and apparently unarmed. It took a few seconds for Harry to realise exactly what was different about Malfoy. He was dressed in simple black clothing, t-shirt and jeans. Unlike every other Hogwarts pupil that Harry had seen so far, Malfoy was not wearing school robes.

"I'd like to speak to Potter. Alone," Malfoy said. Harry could feel the Slytherin's cool grey eyes fixed on him as he glanced over at Ron.

"It's alright, Ron," Harry said as he stood up. "We're just going to talk, right Malfoy?"

"That's right," Malfoy agreed.

They stepped into the corridor of the train, dodging a crowd of third years who were flowing along the carriage like a river. They stared at one another, as though waiting to see which one would crack first.

"I don't know if Granger mentioned it, but we bumped into one another in Diagon Alley," Draco offered.

"She mentioned it. She said you didn't seem as arrogant as normal."

"She was right." Malfoy turned away from Harry and leaned on the windowsill, staring moodily at the crowds thronging the platform outside.

"I was brought up believing that pure blood families were superior to half bloods and Muggle borns," Malfoy continued. "That among purebloods my family was high on the list of the powerful. I never really thought about what my father had done when I was a child, and before I was born, but of course he was a Death Eater. When I realised that he was leading the attack on Hogsmeade a few months ago, I was shocked.

"I knew that he'd worked for You-Know-Who, but he always said that he was being controlled. Always. Even when it was just myself and my father, he told me that he'd been forced to do what he had done. But he never said that what he did was wrong. I grew up confused, half expecting my father to turn around and say that he enjoyed the killing, enjoyed the torture."

Draco looked around at Harry, and their eyes met as they had done many times before. Harry held the gaze for a long moment, trying to understand where Malfoy was going with his monologue.

"I know that I have always been, well, a Slytherin," Malfoy said. "I don't expect people to trust me. But seeing my father attacking people I've known since I was eleven years old, people from my own house, even, well, it changed something in me. I knew I didn't want anything to do with him. I was glad when he was captured, and I'll be the first to celebrate when he's sentenced. I've given up on my family, I want to make my own way in the world, and I want to apologise for what I've done in the past to you, Potter.

"You may have noticed that I'm not wearing my robes. When I get to Hogwarts tonight, I'll line up with the first years and be Sorted again. It can be done, it has been done, very rarely. I honestly can't stand to be among the Slytherins this year. I know that so many of them are related to You-Know-Who's supporters, and that I might do something I'll regret. It pains me to have to leave my mother behind, but she is too much a part of my father's world now. I'm lucky. It won't be easy, but I'll survive on my own.

"I doubt that I'll see you in Gryffindor, Potter. I imagine I'll be placed in Ravenclaw. But I wanted to say that, well, I'm sorry. For everything. I know it doesn't mean much, but maybe someday it will."

Malfoy turned on his heel and walked away. Harry stared after him for several minutes, before suddenly coming out of his reverie when the train jerked and started moving. Shaking his head, he went back into the compartment.

"What did that idiot want?" Ron said, as soon as Harry sat back in his seat.

"To apologise," Harry said. He looked around the other Gryffindors. "He apologised for everything. Said he's given up on his family, that he's going to be Sorted again, that he wants nothing to do with his father anymore."

"He's lying," Ron said immediately.

"I don't think so," Hermione replied. "Not about being Sorted again, anyway. He didn't have his Slytherin robes on. It'd be a stupid lie to tell if he's not going to be Sorted. No, he must have been telling the truth about that. As for the rest. . ."

"I suppose we'll have to wait and see," Ron said. "But I don't believe him for a second. He's been a right little git since our first day. If he thinks that he can change just like that, after five years-"

"We should trust him," Harry said, surprising everyone. "We can't just say that we need him to prove himself for the next five years, to pay us back or whatever. That's what Voldemort said to his Death Eaters in the graveyard."

Silence fell over the carriage again. Even with his closest friends, Harry rarely talked about that night at the end of his fourth year. For Seamus, Dean and Lavender, it was the first time they had ever heard him mention it.

"So you're saying that we trust Malfoy, just like that?" Ron asked sceptically.

"I. . . I guess so. I don't know, maybe not trust him," Harry said. "Give him the benefit of the doubt. If he really is trying to change, then we won't help if we're breathing down his neck the whole time, waiting to see if he's for real or not."

Lavender nodded. "I think you're right, Harry. We all know that Malfoy was, well, a bit of a toad, but if he's willing to change then we should encourage the idea."

"Professor Dumbledore believes in Professor Snape," Hermione said. "Just because he's, well, basically horrible," she said with a glance at Dean, Seamus and Lavender, "doesn't mean that he doesn't have a worthwhile side to him. Maybe Malfoy will be the same."

Ron threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, fine, I don't believe for a second that he's genuine, but it doesn't matter. If he's going to keep his mouth shut, then that's good. I can't see him being Sorted into Gryffindor, anyway, so it won't make much of a difference."

"He thinks he'll probably end up in Ravenclaw," Harry said.

Ginny giggled. "Sorry, I'm sure Malfoy has the brains to do well in Ravenclaw-" Ron snorted in disbelief "-it's just that Malfoy is always going on about how good a Quidditch player he is. What's he going to do if he gets into Ravenclaw? They've got Cho Chang as a Seeker. He won't get in the team in front of her."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe he just won't play. Anyway, don't we have anything better to talk about? It's great that Malfoy is going to clean up his act, but I'd still prefer it if we discussed something else."

"Too right," Ron said. "Who do you reckon Dumbledore will bring in as our Dark Arts teacher this year?"

"That would be me," came a female voice from the compartment doorway. "Couldn't shift along a bit, could you? Yours is the only compartment with any space left."

Dean, Seamus and Lavender shuffled along their seat to allow the newcomer enough room to sit down. Harry recognised the white-haired woman from the previous night, and noticed that she had her bag with her again. She pushed her bag into the luggage rack and then pulled off her travelling cloak, tucking it alongside her bag. As she sat down, Harry noticed that she carried her wand in a sheath at her belt, unlike most wizards who kept it inside their clothes.

"Sorry about this," the woman said. "Just try and ignore me. I'm not even officially on duty until we get to school, so I can get some sleep, and you can go back to whatever it was you were doing before I came in and interrupted."

She settled back in her seat, and closed her eyes. Hermione was the first to speak.

"Er, Professor?"

The woman's eyes flickered open again. "Yes?"

"If you don't mind me asking, what is your name?"

The corner of the woman's mouth turned slightly upwards. "I suppose I can't object to your asking me that. My name is Skeeter, Maureen Skeeter. And, as I said, I'm taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts this year."

"That's awfully brave of you," Lavender said, before clapping her hand over her mouth. The woman smiled brightly.

"Well, yes, I've been told that the post isn't exactly a long-term undertaking. Still, we shall have to see how we go. I understand that I have some pretty big shoes to fill, after you've been taught by Professor Dumbledore and Professor Lupin."

"You know Professor Lupin?" Harry asked. Professor Skeeter nodded.

"Yes. Remus helped me a great deal when I was your age, or a bit younger I suppose. He supervised my remedial work in Charms and Dark Arts."

Hermione frowned. "You needed remedial classes?"

Skeeter frowned slightly. "Yes. When I was thirteen, I went home for Christmas. Death Eaters attacked my home, I never did find out why. I come from a long line of wizards, so we were pure bloods," she spat the last two words. "I was ill for a long time afterwards, and missed a great deal of school. Remus and a number of other students were assigned to help me with the work I missed. That's how I know that he's a good teacher. I was his first ever pupil."

Harry grinned. "He's a great teacher. It's a shame he can't be here this year."

"Well, I shall do my best to make up for his absence," said Professor Skeeter, a touch frostily. "We'll be studying, well, you'll have to wait and see. Now," she yawned. "If you'll excuse me, I really didn't get much sleep at all last night. . ."

Professor Skeeter's head drooped against the compartment wall, and soon she was sleeping peacefully as he train rocked gently from side to side.

"Never had a woman teaching Dark Arts before," Ron said. "Should be interesting."

"Think she's up to it?" Dean asked. "There always seems to be something that goes wrong each year for them."

"Well, if she's a friend of Professor Lupin, she'll be pretty good," Ginny said loyally. She was very fond of their old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"What do you think, Harry?" Lavender asked.

"She's probably okay," Harry said with a shrug. "I can't see Professor Dumbledore hiring someone who wasn't good."

"Well, he has made some rather strange appointments in the past," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, like Lockhart," Ron said. "And what about Quirrell?"

"Don't forget that old bat Trelawney," Dean said. Lavender looked scandalised, but refrained from saying anything.

"True," Ron agreed. "Still, I guess we'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

The others nodded in agreement, and conversation turned to other matters.

*

As the journey passed, people wandered in and out of the compartment in a steady flow. Katie came to talk to Ron and Harry about the Quidditch try outs they'd booked for the following Saturday. Neville arrived with Parvati and Padma Patil in tow; the two girls dragging Lavender away while Neville, Ron and Seamus played Exploding Snap.

Lunchtime came and went, and the trolley witch stopped at their compartment. Harry's moneybag was considerably lighter when she left, as he treated everyone in the cabin. He was feeling in a good mood, the knowledge that they seemingly had a decent Darks Arts teacher again making him feel pleased.

I hope she doesn't mind about the Duelling Club. I know Dumbledore thinks it's a good idea for everyone to have the chance to learn fighting spells, but she might think we're going over her head.

Harry grinned as Lee Jordan appeared briefly. Katie had returned to badger Ron about tactics for facing the Slytherins -news of Malfoy's defection had apparently spread- and Lee was only too happy to grab his girlfriend and pull her away.

The last visitor of the day was Professor Snape, who was patrolling their carriage. He had passed their door every half an hour, almost to the second, but had done no more than sneer at them. This time, however, he stopped by their door and came into their compartment.

"Back again, Potter," he sneered.

"That's right," Harry replied, staring the Potions teacher in the eye.

"I understand that you have signed up to study Potions once more. I warn you, and anyone else taking Potions this year, that I will not mollycoddle you. Many of the potions we will be brewing can have lasting side effects, and if I do not feel you are putting in the effort-" his eyes slid sideways to glance at Ron, before flicking back to Harry- "then I shall be using you as my test subjects. I assure you, I am well within my rights to do so," he continued, as Hermione opened her mouth to speak. "I give you fair warning, so that, should you wish, you may abandon your foolhardy attempt to pass in my class at NEWT level. I doubt you have it in you, Potter, and I imagine I shall find it extremely trying to have you in my class. Please, do us both a favour, and give up."

"I think I'll stay," Harry said, coolly. "I'm going to be an Auror when I leave school. I'll need to know my potions to do that, won't I?"

"Indeed you shall, Potter," Snape sneered. "An Auror? Well, the next time I see a Dark wizard, I shall be sure and let him know that he only has five years left before you complete your training. I'm sure that he will run and hide at the very thought of you trying to track him down."

Snape spun on his heel and strode towards the door of the compartment. He stopped and looked down at the sleeping Professor Skeeter for a second, a look of deep loathing settling on his features. "And this is our expert in fighting Dark wizards," he spat, before leaving the compartment, slamming the door behind him.

"Do you get the impression that Snape wasn't hugged enough as a child?" Dean asked after a few seconds. The others laughed, and put their vile Potions master out of their minds.

Eventually, the Express began to slow down. Professor Skeeter awoke as they were pulling into Hogsmeade station.

"Oh, I really needed that," she said. "Here, are we? Great. It'll be good to be back at Hogwarts."

She stood up, and unclipped the hairgrip that held her hair in one long ponytail. She shook it loose, letting it fall in a white wave that reached half way down her back.

"Can't sleep with it down," she said to Lavender, who nodded in agreement. "Nice to let it loose when I'm up and about though."

They followed Professor Skeeter out of the carriage and around the porters who were unloading all the trunks from the luggage area. Waving to Hagrid, who was collecting the first years, they reached the horseless carriages that would take them up to Hogwarts. Climbing aboard, Harry noticed suddenly that Ginny wasn't with them any longer. He looked around, and saw her getting into the carriage behind with Dean Thomas.

He's got such nice eyes,

he thought with a grin. He settled back into his seat, his eyes settling on Hogwarts' lake and Ron and Hermione bickering about something beside him as they made their way along the road and up the drive.

And there, at last, its main doors invitingly open and its torches glowing brightly in the early evening dusk, was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

To be continued...