At My Most Beautiful

Harry Potter closed the novel and set it down thoughtfully on the desk in front of him. He hadn´t expected to like the thick, heavy book; in fact, he had picked it up merely as a defense mechanism, telling his aunt and uncle that he was required to read a set number of `normal´ novels over the summer holidays. Pleased that his homework had nothing to do with magic, or `freaks,´ they had granted permission for him to borrow and read some of Dudley´s old books from Smeltings. He had made quick work of a lighthearted romance called Pride and Prejudice, and had then turned to the imposing The Fountainhead, its cover and name somehow calling out to him. It had taken him the better part of a week, reading for three hours every morning and three in the evening, to finish it, and he still had much to contemplate. The book carried vast implications that he wasn´t quite prepared to handle, but he knew that he wanted to interpret them, almost had to.

Shrugging, Harry went to his trunk and pulled out his schoolbooks. Determined not to be caught in a situation in which he could not defend himself against Voldemort or the Death Eaters, Harry had started working harder in his classes during his fifth year. He had requested his supply list for sixth year before he left Hogwarts for the summer. At the final Hogsmeade weekend, he had made his purchases, and he was working through the courses of study by night. Shortly before the Hogwarts Express arrived, Professor Figg had pulled Harry aside to inform him that the Ministry had given him permission to use magic over the holidays, as long as it wasn´t used near or on any Muggles. Harry had merely shrugged, though he was surprised, and modified his summer plans.

Harry had begun his summer work as soon as he arrived at the Dursleys´. It wasn´t a tremendous amount of work, and within a week he had completed it. Now, he was studying the next year´s lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Charms, having elected to drop Herbology, History of Magic, and Divination as it was time to specialise once the O.W.L.s were taken. Harry would continue to take Potions and Care of Magical Creatures as well as the other three subjects, but he knew that spending time on their coursework was not likely to be a good investment of his time. He sighed heavily and began practising cross-species Transfiguration on one of the mice he had captured in the Dursleys´ basement for just this purpose.

Harry put his books aside just before midnight. He had worked out a routine. He slept from midnight until six am. He went for a run, showered, and then did schoolwork for an hour between seven and eight. At eight, he went downstairs, cooked breakfast and cleaned up, then did any other chores Aunt Petunia assigned until nine. He read for three hours out of his Muggle books, fixed lunch for the family, and did yard work and gardening for Aunt Petunia. He fixed dinner to be ready at half past five, and by six, he was back in his room, reading the Muggle books once more. At nine, he prepared for bed, and did schoolwork for three hours. Every day the same routine with occasional breaks to write to Ron, Hermione, or Sirius, but those were few and far between.

The truth was, Harry had been steadily growing apart from his two best friends over the past year. Last summer, Ron had been so incensed by Hermione´s intended visit to Viktor Krum that he had taken it upon itself to fly on his brother Charlie´s old broomstick to Hermione´s house, and ask her to be his girlfriend. She had accepted, admitting that she had only thought of Viktor as a good friend - who happened to live in a fascinating country - and the two had seen each other frequently over the summer after that. By the time Harry met up with them on Diagon Alley, the dynamics within their trio had altered drastically.

Their friendship most likely could have fared better, Harry had decided upon reflection, if it weren´t that Ron and Hermione had had so much time to themselves without Harry and no time with the trio together or Harry with one of them. Ron and Hermione had grown closer as friends as well as a romantic couple over the previous summer, and Harry had been, quite simply, left behind. There was still an intense bond between all three of them, but it was patently obvious to Harry, if not to anyone else, that he was the odd man out.

His first reaction had been to try to find someone for himself, and he had entertained the thought of dating Ginny Weasley. Before he even acted on that idea, though, he realised that he didn´t hold any romantic feelings for the girl. Not long after, he had concluded he did best not to mess up any further lives by mixing himself with them, and he still hadn´t been on a single date. He was, however, getting used to his life. Quidditch, study, worry about Sirius, worry about Voldemort, try to have fun with his friends occasionally, study, and worry some more. It was a very basic existence, but one in which he was finding something approaching comfortable.

He gave himself plenty of time to think as well. Think about Voldemort, and Wormtail, and what was going on in the wizarding world. Cornelius Fudge had refused to believe that Voldemort had returned, and that had been his downfall. He had been killed just a few weeks before the end of term, and a good friend of Ron´s father, a wizard by the name of Jordan Faye, had been appointed Interim Minister of Magic. Fudge´s was not the only death that had occurred that year. Hogwarts had seemed strangely empty when Harry had returned the previous fall, and it hadn´t taken long to realise the greatest difference of all: Hagrid had not returned from his mission to the giants, and Harry had felt the loss of the gentle half-giant´s presence keenly. The loss, however, was not to be temporary. Madam Maxime, following the instructions Hagrid had given her, had written individual letters to Harry and Professor Dumbledore in early February, informing them officially that Hagrid had been killed by one of the giants when negotiations had begun to go badly. Hagrid´s death was a kick in the stomach. Hagrid had rescued him from the Dursleys, he always remembered Harry´s birthday, and he had been someone that Harry had trusted implicitly. Hagrid had always been too sincere to entertain any duplicity.

Now, Harry was beginning to feel like there was no one he could trust. He knew that Voldemort was coming after him, and that relatively soon, he would have to face the Dark wizard. However, he had been told virtually nothing aside from what anyone could read in the Daily Prophet, which wasn´t much at all. Harry had asked repeatedly why him exactly, asked Dumbledore, Sirius, even Professor Lupin, but no answer had been forthcoming. Sure, Voldemort hated him because Harry had been the source of his downfall. But why had he tried to kill him in the first place? It made him more than slightly angry to not have those answers; his was the life on the line.

Harry, however, had secrets, too. He was teaching himself to Apparate. He had decided he needed to have that skill, and made sure he had the official Ministry guide in his possession when he left Hogwarts for the summer. He had found a flaw in the wards protecting him at Privet Drive. True, one could not Apparate in, but it was possible to Apparate out, as well as to Apparate from point to point within the wards. Harry had been judiciously practising some evenings. He would change his appearance, Apparate out of the wards, Apparate back just to the edge of the wards, then walk back to Privet Drive. He was growing more confident in that skill as well and planned to make good use of it if it became necessary.

Harry had gotten the idea for his covert studies from the Slytherins. They were rumoured to receive instruction in the Dark Arts in the summers, but he knew from overheard conversations that they did, in fact, review each year´s course of study before the year began. He was also quite certain that many of the Slytherins were able to Apparate, unlicensed though they were. Harry had decided that if the Slytherins could do it, so could he.

His next Muggle book was a short one, The Prince, and he followed it with A Tale of Two Cities, which Harry found enjoyable as well. Still, his mind returned to The Fountainhead more than any of the other books, although The Prince had set his mind swirling as well. He wanted to discuss the books with someone, but of course Dudley was not an option, and he had no Muggle friends. It seemed possible that Hermione had read them, but he doubted they were on a ten-year-old´s reading list, even if Hermione had been a precocious child. Still, she might know of someone from her old school who would be willing to correspond with him. He wrote a letter to her, and sent it off with Hedwig.

Hermione was happy to pass his request to an old friend who was in an Advanced Literature class, although she found Harry´s request a bit odd and cautioned him to use Muggle post and not mention anything about Hogwarts other than that it had what was considered a `progressive´ curriculum. Hermione´s friend Raeanne was more than happy to discuss the books Harry was reading with him, and Harry was a bit wistful when the summer came to an end, knowing he wouldn´t be able to have the written conversations at Hogwarts. Then again, neither would he have time to read through the books. Overall, Raeanne gave him several points to ponder, and he finally decided to write down any new thoughts he had on the subject. Writing out the interpretations he was debating seemed to help him clarify matters, and clarity was something Harry was desperately seeking.

Harry´s birthday came and went, Hagrid´s loss more poignant when there were no rock cakes or treacle tarts to avoid eating at all costs. Hermione sent two books on hexes, Ron a training Snitch, and Sirius new Quidditch gear. The twins, starting up their new joke shop, sent Harry his percentage of the profits (he was an anonymous partner, thanks to his Tri-Wizard winnings), and that was the sum of his birthday presents. Harry was now sixteen, and had only a year before he was considered an adult in the wizarding world. He would be free to leave the Dursleys, as well as, officially, take his Apparition test, though most waited until they had taken their N.E.W.T.s to do so. Harry had decided not to wait, just as he had decided not to wait any longer to get his vision corrected. If he were to lose his glasses while duelling, any hope he had of surviving would be gone. Consequently, at the beginning of August, Harry sent Hedwig to Diagon Alley to make an appointment with an ophthalmology wizard, and a week before he was to meet the Weasleys in Diagon Alley, he used his newfound skills and Apparated to London. He withdrew enough Galleons to cover the procedure, as well as any further supplies he might need. At the last minute, he changed another portion into Muggle currency. He had, as he figured, two and a half hours before his absence would be noticed, and the eye procedure would take perhaps fifteen minutes. Buying some well-fitting Muggle clothing would not hurt.

He arrived ten minutes early for his appointment, filled out some paperwork, and was shown to a room. Moments later, the wizard walked in, examined him carefully, and performed three charms in perfectly timed succession. Then an eye test was executed, and Harry was pleased that the procedure had gone exceedingly well. He tucked his old glasses into his pocket without considering that he had no use for them, and headed for Muggle London.

He found the nearest clothing store that had decent prices, and bought a quantity of slacks, jeans, t-shirts, jumpers, and shirts, as well as new shoes, boots, socks, and underwear. He ducked into a nearby restroom, performed a Shrinking Charm on his purchases, tucked them into his pockets, and Apparated back to Little Whinging.

The next week found Harry packing his things into his trunk, removing every piece of clothing that had touched Dudley Dursley and replacing it with his own new things. He put on some of his new clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes, and shrunk his trunk. He walked downstairs, trunk in his pocket, wand sticking casually out of the other pocket. "Aunt Petunia? I´m leaving for Diagon Alley now. I´ll be staying with the Weasleys until the start of term, so I´ll see you next summer."

Petunia merely nodded, and Dudley grunted. Harry shrugged, walked into the sitting room, and Apparated away from the Dursley household, glad to be returning to his world.

"Harry! There you are! Why, you´d think you just Apparated, the way you weren´t there and then seconds later you are."

"Don´t be daft, Hermione, we can´t Apparate until seventh year and you know it. Harry must´ve been practising his stealth moves, right, Harry?" Ron countered.

Harry forced himself to smile. "Right. Are we ready, then, or do either of you need to visit Gringotts?"

Ron and Hermione shook their heads. "We´ve got our money," Hermione responded cheerfully. "What about you?"

"I withdrew enough for the year last week," he responded. "One trip a year in those carts is enough."

"Why were you here last week?" Hermione inquired, puzzled.

Harry laughed. "Honestly, you two, I´m hurt. Have either of you even really looked at me?"

The pair began to flush with embarrassment when they realised it was quite obvious that Harry was no longer wearing his glasses. "Did you get contacts?" Hermione offered.

"What´re contacts?" Ron asked confusedly.

"Muggle lenses that sit in your eyes," Hermione replied impatiently. "Well? Did you, Harry?"

"No, I went all the way, had them magically corrected. Decided it was too much of a risk in a touchy situation to have bad eyesight."

His two friends just nodded. They hated to be reminded of Voldemort and the ongoing `silent war´ between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters. Harry couldn´t blame them. He was sick of hearing about it as well, but he knew he had to keep one ear to the ground and be prepared to face Voldemort.

It seemed, however, that Voldemort himself was not particularly active. The only time he featured in Harry´s visions, he was either planning or merely watching from the sidelines. He had not cast a single curse in the time that he had been returned to his body, excepting the duel with Harry immediately after his restoration. Wormtail was the de facto leader of the Death Eaters, with Lucius Malfoy as second-in-command. Death Eater politics were complex and Harry didn´t understand enough from his dreams to really make sense of it all, but those that could have told him, weren´t telling, so he continued to formulate his own theories.

"Where to first, then?" Ron asked after a few moments of silence.

"It wouldn´t hurt for me to get new robes," Harry offered. "I think I´d be put out if I didn´t, in fact." The three friends laughed. Harry was easily one of the shortest boys in their year, and had fallen behind some of those in the year behind him.

"I need new robes as well," Hermione said with a smile. "Madam Malkin´s it is, then!"

The trio entered the store and Harry was elated that he did, in fact, need new robes. "Is there to be another ball this year, dearies?" the elderly witch asked sweetly. All three nodded their assent. "Will you be needing dress robes, then?"

Ron shook his head. "The ones that Fred and George got me are magically altering, at least for five years."

Harry nodded again. He had sat out the ball that Dumbledore had held the past spring, so the only dress robes he owned were the bottle green set he had worn to the Yule Ball during his fourth year. He in no way wanted to be reminded of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Hermione nodded as well, and another assistant appeared from the rear of the shop to take Hermione off to another part of the shop, while Madam Malkin herself began measuring Harry. "Now, what color will you be wanting, dearie? I wager you´re always told to choose green, with your eyes and all."

Harry silently agreed. "What would you suggest without me wearing green?" he asked finally.

She pursed her lips. "Silver goes with green," she offered lightly.

Harry´s head snapped up. "Slytherin colors." He paused, smiling slightly. "And I´m a Gryffindor." He shrugged. "Let me see how it looks, then I´ll decide."

The witch merely nodded, seemingly surprised by his easy agreement. Harry, meanwhile, shrugged. It was dress robes, for heaven´s sake. What did it matter that silver and green went better with his eyes than gold or scarlet?

She returned with several selections, the majority in silver, and Harry finally selected one of the silver ones that was relatively close fitting, and reasonable in price. Satisfied, Harry paid extra for the magical alteration, and joined Ron on a bench outside the store.

"Hardly heard from you this summer," Ron commented as they watched witches and wizards strolling by.

"I could say the same," Harry responded, a wry note in his voice.

Ron grinned sheepishly. "True. Sorry, mate." He paused. "What did you do all summer?"

"You mean Hermione didn´t tell you? I read, for the most part. Muggle books Dudley had to read at Smeltings. That, and I worked ahead a bit in a few classes."

"Bloody hell, Harry, are you going to start spending all your time in the library too?"

Harry shook his head and laughed. "It´s not like I could go flying to keep myself occupied." He refrained from pointing out that he would likely be appreciative of his own foresight in studying ahead at some point in the relatively near future.

About ten minutes after Harry was done, Hermione emerged. "Finally! That woman wanted me to try on every bloody robe in the store, I think." The two boys grinned and followed Hermione as they replenished their quills, ink, parchment, and potions stores.

"I suppose the two of you want to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies as soon as we´re done at Flourish & Blotts?" Hermione asked in her mock-stern voice.

"I suppose," both boys answered together, shrugging, and then they laughed at their identical responses.

"I got new Quidditch gear from Snuffles for my birthday," Harry explained, "and of course the Snitch Ron sent me. I don´t really need the temptation of the latest broom."

"I don´t need the temptation of anything at all!" Ron said with a grin. "Don´t worry, `Mione, we´ll still want to play Quidditch all day for the rest of the summer, we just don´t want to go shop for it right now."

Hermione had to laugh at that as they entered Flourish & Blotts. Harry wandered over to the Charms section, then the Defence Against the Dark Arts section, while Hermione and Ron got the books on their supply lists. After a while, Hermione joined him. "Don´t you need to get your books, Harry?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I got my new textbooks at the end of last year. I´ve been working ahead somewhat. Well, except for in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures." Hermione just studied him silently. "Do you know what book the seventh years use for Defence?"

She pursed her lips, then pointed it out. "There´s an advanced section for seventh years as well, and they use this book right here, if I remember correctly."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry smiled briefly, added those two books to the three on charms he had already picked out, and headed for the counter to pay. Ron just looked at his best friend like his best friend was Polyjuiced.

Their shopping complete, the three friends wandered over to Florean Fortescue´s Ice Cream Parlour and had ice cream before heading back to the Leaky Cauldron to Floo to the Burrow. Harry groaned inwardly. Apparating was so much better than traveling through the fireplaces, and Harry was much better at it. He couldn´t risk exposing his secret, though, so he took a pinch of the proffered Floo powder, dutifully threw it in, and called for the Burrow.

Within moments, he was embraced by Mrs. Weasley before being greeted enthusiastically by the twins. Percy no longer lived at home. He had believed Fudge over his family, denying that Voldemort had returned. Now that he had been proven wrong, relationships were even more strained. Percy avoided his own father when he was at work, and he had broken up with Penelope. Harry had an inkling that it was pride, coupled with Percy´s position as the middle child, that had resulted in the current situation. Still, it was hardly something he could help, so he did like the rest of the Weasleys and pretended Percy did not exist.

Within an hour, Harry had enlarged his trunk once more and put away his purchases from the day. He sat down to supper with about half the Weasleys, though Mr. Weasley was still at the Ministry. Harry soon found out that Mr. Weasley was rarely home for dinner, now that the Ministry had been restructured somewhat.

"How was your summer, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked with a bright smile.

Harry swallowed and forced himself to return the smile. "Just fine, ma´am."

"Did you end up writing to Raeanne?" Hermione asked curiously, causing the rest of the table to look at Harry, the twins sniggering and Ginny´s face falling.

"Yeah, I did. She hadn´t read The Prince but it´s short so she did, and her class did The Fountainhead just before summer hols, so she remembered most of the discussion." He smiled briefly. "It definitely gives you a lot to think about."

Now the others had their mouths hanging open. "Oi!" Fred said. "What happened to you, Harry?"

He snorted. "I had nothing better to do than read Muggle books all summer, Fred. I´m not sure what´s so amusing."

"But you actually... thought about them," George offered in a horrified tone.

Harry just rolled his eyes and turned back to Ron. "Who do you think will try out for the team?"

Ron was Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and would very likely be selected for Captain. While the team had a few reserves, they essentially had to replace all three Chasers and both Beaters. Ron groaned and shook his head. "I don´t know. I know Seamus kept mentioning it last year, but I don´t want to leave the team in upheaval once we leave."

"Maybe we should see if McGonagall would open the reserve positions to first-years."

Ron paused, then nodded. "You´re right. Especially if we select any sixth or seventh years for any of the positions."

The conversation quickly turned into a general discussion of Quidditch, taking the attention off Harry. Harry leaned back in his seat slightly and caught Hermione´s eye. She winked at him, understanding what he had done. When the Weasleys got to talking Quidditch, they didn´t really notice who was participating in the conversation or not. Mrs. Weasley finally interrupted them with a couple of tarts for dessert, and instructions for Fred and George to get to de-gnoming the garden. Ginny went to help her mother clean up, and Ron splashed her, earning him a trip to the gardens with his older brothers. This left Harry and Hermione sitting in companionable silence in the Weasley living room.

"How was your summer, really, Harry?" Hermione asked after a while.

Harry shrugged. "It wasn´t that bad. I had a routine: get up, jog, study, do chores, read, chores, read, sleep."

Hermione nodded. "So writing Raeanne worked out?"

"It was fun, talking about the ideas in the books. I know that you know how much Muggle literature is out there, but I wager the average wizarding family doesn´t have a clue. There´s so much... so many ideas. Some of them are pretty radical."

"Really? Like what?"

"Take The Prince. I think they must hand out a copy to every first year that´s Sorted into Slytherin."

"It´s evil?"

"No, no. It´s just about ambition, achieving what you want, and ends justifying the means. I´m not explaining it very well. But it´s fascinating."

"Fascinating? And it should be given to the Slytherins?" Hermione asked dryly. "Where´s your Gryffindor spirit?"

Harry stopped suddenly. He had never told his friends what the Sorting Hat had said, back in his first year. As years went by, he had become more and more aware of the dual nature of his personality. Sure, the Gryffindor side was stronger, but the Slytherin side was there, calculating, planning, waiting, and even lying when necessary. "I don´t know, Hermione, I don´t know," he said with a smile, deciding not to trouble her with his dual natures. The truth was, he had enjoyed The Prince immensely, and he was relatively certain that that fact was most un-Gryffindorish.

During the remaining weeks of summer, Harry continued to get up early to jog, but he spent most of the day flying, and decreased his schoolwork to two hours each day. He tried to spend more time with Ron and Hermione without intruding on their time together, a feat he was beginning to perfect after nearly a year´s practise. Harry found himself sitting by the river at least once a day, alone, pondering on the events of the past year and the books he had read. When he thought about it, he was essentially alone. None of the thoughts were particularly happy ones, and it was something of a relief when September first came around and he could board the Hogwarts Express again.

The Burrow was, as always, in a state of chaos as four Hogwarts students wolfed down breakfast and frantically checked and re-checked trunks to be sure that nothing was left behind. Harry tucked his wand into his pants pocket, drawing Ron´s attention. "Why not leave your wand in your trunk, Harry? It´s not like we can do magic until we get on the train."

Harry sighed heavily. "Ron, think about it." He raised his eyebrows and held his best friend´s gaze steadily. Ron´s eyes widened as understanding flooded his face, and he nodded solemnly before continuing out the door with his trunk. It was just as well that he had never told his friends that he was allowed to use magic over the summer; Ron and Hermione both would have been jealous, although for different reasons.

The trip to King´s Cross Station was made in Ministry cars, which Mr. Weasley had arranged for with his friend the Minister. The Ministry cars darted in and out of traffic, leaving over thirty minutes for the four to get to Platform 9 and 3/4, unlike some other years when they barely made the train. Harry loaded his trunk easily, grinning to himself that it was weightless. He´d have to remember to take the charm off once it was safely stored inside a compartment. Hedwig hooted impatiently from her cage. "Do you want to just fly to Hogwarts, girl?" Harry asked, cocking his head at her. Hedwig issued an affirmative hoot, and she nipped at Harry´s fingers affectionately as he let her go. Without thinking, Harry shrunk her cage and stuck it inside his trunk. Then, realising what he´d done, he looked up to see Ginny watching him, eyes widened. He put a finger to his lips and smiled slightly. "Shh." She paused, then nodded, and Harry let out a breath. Secret safe.

The four passed through the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten without any problems or delays. Mrs. Weasley was embracing each of them in turn, and then Harry was on board the train, listening halfheartedly to the argument that was taking place between Ron and Ginny. Hermione occasionally broke in to calm one or the other of them down. Harry let the motion of the train lull him into a sense of complacency. Everything seemed hushed, and he was warm, he had just had some sweets off the trolley, and he wasn´t being attacked.

The downside of this feeling was, of course, that it was easy to feel as if he wasn´t truly alive. He found himself in an almost deathlike stupor, and he could not shake the lethargy that was pulling at him. His thoughts began to turn bleaker. Who would die this year? When would Voldemort strike? Would Sirius ever be pardoned? Would he die fighting Voldemort?

Harry was startled from his reverie when the compartment door slammed open and Draco Malfoy sauntered in, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle, who always appeared to hold the function of bodyguards more than that of friends. "Well, well, well. If it isn´t the penniless Weasel and his Mudblood. Oh, wait, excuse me, you aren´t penniless anymore, are you? Think you´re important now that Daddy actually knows somebody important." Malfoy turned sharply on his heel and faced Harry, who had lazily drawn his eyes from the passing countryside. "And you, Potty-boy. Decided to come back to kill off another few of your friends and followers?"

Harry´s lethargy vanished with a snap. Malfoy and his crew of Slytherins were the only ones who continued to harass Harry about his role in Cedric Diggory´s death, and they had inordinate amounts of fun digging into the wounds caused by Hagrid´s death. They insisted on referring to anyone who was friendly or polite to Harry as his `followers´, and Harry knew that what incensed him the most about Malfoy´s comments was the dread that they were perhaps right, at least in some way. Still, even if they were, he had plenty of guilt on his own without receiving anyone else´s, and the comments had their intended effect: they got Harry´s blood boiling.

He jumped up, wand in hand, and gritted his teeth. "Don´t say another word, Malfoy."

"Or what? You´ll hex me?"

Harry just smiled, muttering under his breath as he saw Malfoy reaching for his own wand. A curse shot out from the end of Malfoy´s wand as a streak of silver, and Harry merely held his ground. The curse ricocheted off of Harry´s admittedly hastily conjured shield, and bounced harmlessly back and forth between the floor and shield for a few moments before the silver light vanished. Harry ignored the gasps coming from his friends. "Leave, Malfoy," he commanded, and the blonde-haired boy turned around, commanding his two companions to follow him. The door swung shut, and Harry pocketed his wand, sitting back down again.

"Bloody hell, Harry, what was that?" Ron asked furiously. "You didn´t even cast a spell!"

"Actually, he did," Hermione corrected her boyfriend. "Under his breath, if I´m not mistaken?" She cast a questioning glance at Harry, and he nodded. "What I want to know is how Harry did it. That particular shielding charm isn´t covered until the end of sixth year!"

Harry smiled wryly. "I told you I´d been working ahead over the summer. Didn´t expect to have to use my hard work on Malfoy, though. Otherwise the shield would´ve been better."

"Better?"

"It´s supposed to absorb the curse, I believe," Hermione hazarded, and Harry nodded. Ron´s eyes widened and he just shook his head disbelievingly.

"How´d you do that with just reading about it though?" Ron questioned.

Harry ran his fingers through his unwieldy hair with a grimace. "I didn´t."

"You didn´t?" Ron asked blankly.

"In other words, he has practised it. Harry, how´d you get around the Ministry of Magic restrictions?"

"Professor Figg pulled me aside just before we left for the summer and gave me the news." Harry shrugged. "They said that if I wanted to work on the new coursework, they weren´t going to stop me. I think it had more to do with defending myself, but I wasn´t going to ask. Of course I wasn´t allowed to use it `near or on any Muggles,´" he finished. "Trust me, it isn´t all that exciting, practising changing rats into who-knows-what every night."

Ginny smiled nervously at him, and left to go find some of her friends. Hermione let out a disgruntled half-snort, obviously thinking that it was exciting to practise Transfiguration, and Ron just stared at his best friend, his expression a mixture of envy and awe.

Harry´s mind began to whirl. Why was Ron looking at him with awe? That didn´t make any sense, any sense at all. Hermione seemed to think Harry was fitfully stupid not to have enjoyed it more. Harry, for his part, didn´t see what the big deal really was. It was schoolwork, nothing more, nothing less. At that moment, however, he was more concerned with getting into his robes before the train stopped.

"I hear Dumbledore has some big announcement," Hermione shared once all three had changed and were seated in the compartment again. That was another thing that had changed. Now, it was Harry that left while Ron and Hermione changed in the same compartment. The trio left the train together, though, and climbed into one of the smaller horseless carriages for the journey up to the castle. Harry noticed Hermione and Ron looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes, and Harry decided to let them advantage of the close quarters and low light levels to perhaps kiss a bit. He quickly decided to theatrically yawn and close his eyes for the short ride as he stretched across the empty seat.

There were fewer first years than in previous years, and Harry knew it was because many families were afraid to let their children make the journey to Hogwarts. Beyond that, some of the year´s expected class was victims of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Harry sighed morosely as he dropped into a seat between Ron and Dean Thomas.

"Hey, Harry! How was your summer?" Dean greeted his dorm mate with a smile.

Harry struggled to return a genuine smile. "Not as bad as it could have been. How about yours?"

Dean nodded. "Not too bad. Parents took us on holiday, but it was just to the shore. Not too exciting."

Harry made the appropriate murmuring responses, and then turned his attention to Professor McGonagall, who had just entered the hall with the stool, Sorting Hat, and parchment of names.

"Abbott, Rebecca."

A tiny girl that looked like a miniature version of Hannah Abbott stepped up to the front. The Hat sat on her head for the barest handful of seconds before it issued its decision. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Immediately after her came another Hufflepuff (`Ayers, Connie´), then the first Gryffindor, a boy named Charles Allen. The first Slytherin was `Baddock, Amanda,´ followed by two Ravenclaws (`Barron, Scott´ and `Brocklehurst, Mathilda´).

Harry was startled when, a few moments later, `Creevey, Eric:´ was called. "How many Creeveys are there?" he whispered exasperatedly to Ron, who merely shrugged. Like his brothers, Eric was placed in Gryffindor, causing a groan to escape from Harry.

Immediately on Eric´s heels came `Davies, Douglas,´ whom Harry immediately ascertained must have been Roger Davies´s younger brother. Douglas was put in Ravenclaw as well. Harry´s face nearly drained of all colour, however, when `Diggory, Louis´ was called. The Hat sat on his head for a very long time before it gave its answer Ð and the answer it gave shocked the entire Hall. "SLYTHERIN!" sang the Hat, and everyone third-year and above, Slytherins included, fell silent. Louis Diggory merely hopped off the stool and walked to his new House´s table, which belatedly began cheering for him. Harry shook his head in confusion, and turned out the next few names.

He applauded, of course, when `Grimsley, Aaron´ and `Kinnear, Kelly´ were named Gryffindors, and shook his head along with the rest of his House when `Graham, Marie´ was named to Slytherin.

Hermione got his attention from across the table a few moments later, when `Jasons, Rebecca´ was called. "That´s my cousin," she hissed. "I think she´ll be a Ravenclaw, though." Hermione was right, and Rebecca gave Hermione a cheerful wave as she settled down among a sea of blue and bronze.

The name `Malfoy, Talis,´ brought Harry back to the Sorting Ceremony. "I didn´t know Malfoy had any siblings," he said confusedly to Ron, who shook his head.

"He doesn´t. That´s a cousin. Second cousin, actually, if what Dad said is right. His family is still Slytherin, but they work against Voldemort, not for."

Harry´s eyes widened slightly, but he was not surprised when Talis joined his cousin in Slytherin. From there, he heard `McCamish, Harlan´ join Hufflepuff, `McConnell, Daniel´ join Ravenclaw, and `Michaels, Junith´ come to sit at his own table. After that, however, he began thinking about Louis Diggory.

One explanation for his being in Slytherin would be similar to the reason the Sorting Hat given Harry six years before: a thirst to prove himself, a desire to get out from under the shadow of his dead older brother. There was also the possibility that Louis wanted revenge. Slytherin would help there. Still, it couldn´t have been where he would have gone otherwise. Probably the boy had fought being placed in Hufflepuff like Cedric had been. He was brought out of his musings only when he heard the last name being called - "Warrington, Robert" - and the boy being Sorted into Slytherin.

Beside him, Ron was laughing. "What´s up?" Harry asked.

"Oh, you were out of it, but Parkinson´s got a little sister. Posey, if you can believe it." Ron sniggered again.

Harry just shrugged slightly. "So the Parkinsons have a thing for flowers. Who cares?"

"C´mon mate, flowers, don´t you think that´s kind of lame?"

Harry just raised his eyebrows. "My grandparents apparently didn´t think so." He turned back to his plate, and began talking with Dean and Seamus.

A few minutes later, Ron nudged him in the side. "Sorry, Harry. I wasn´t thinking."

Harry said nothing for a few moments, then just shrugged and smiled slightly. "No problem." The feast was nearly over by then, but Harry was still packing away the food, and he noticed that Ron was as well. Harry had been eating heavily all week, to make up for the slight malnutrition he encountered during the summer, but he knew Ron just ate that heavily no matter what. He sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled softly to himself.

As students began to shift restlessly, Dumbledore stood and addressed them. "We all know that things are currently dark and terrible beyond the walls of this castle. However, you are all but children, so we are making especial effort to make this year enjoyable for all of you. With that in mind, let me announce the following new events and modifications to old traditions:

"Each Friday night, there will some type of social gathering. Most weeks, this will be divided by age in some way, and it will consist of pairs of Houses, or all four Houses together. These gatherings will range from parties to Muggle-style oversleeps."

"Oversleeps? What´s an oversleep?" Ron demanded.

"Shush," Hermione commanded her boyfriend. "He means sleepovers, I think. Although I´d argue that he hasn´t a clue what he´s talking about."

"We will, of course, have the Quidditch Cup this year. Additionally, there will be a junior Quidditch league for those first, second, and third years who are not on a House team. We will be asking those who are on the House team that do not have full plates to consider coaching these junior teams.

"Finally, we will be reinstating the Duelling Club, which some of our sixth and seventh years may remember, ahem, fondly." There was laughter from all quarters, even the Slytherin table, and Harry thought he even saw Professor Snape´s lips twitch slightly. "There will be a test of ability at the first meeting, and from there you will ranked for purposes of partner assignments and interHouse duelling competitions." Dumbledore paused and smiled at his excited students. Harry had admired the way Dumbledore was attempting to fill everyone´s plates so that they had no time to contemplate the ongoing war.

"Now, I´m sure that you will all be excited and relieved to hear that we have managed to retain a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for more than one year, as Professor Figg remains with us this year. Our only new staff member this year is in Care of Magical Creatures. Professor Brian Cole is joining us from a dragon reserve in Romania, and I´m sure you will all enjoy his classes."

"Romania? Bugger, I bet he knows Charlie!" exclaimed Ron as the students clapped enthusiastically for the relatively young and pleasant-seeming professor.

Harry nodded. "Why don´t you ask him, then, after the Feast? We´ve got time before curfew, and if he knows Charlie, he´ll recognise the Weasley hair," he pointed out.

Ron looked hesitant. "I don´t know..."

"For heaven´s sake, Ron, Hermione has to lead the first years up to the Tower and get them settled," Harry said, a bit tetchy.

Ron smiled sheepishly and nodded. "What about you, then? What are you up to?"

"I thought I´d find McGonagall, offer to coach the juniors. Could be kind of fun."

"Better you than me!" Ron said. "I´ll stick to the big kids."

Harry smiled as he stood. "You´re a shoo-in for Captain and you know it. You wouldn´t have time to coach them on top of that."

Harry hurried out of the hall. He knew he would participate in the duelling club; he needed all the practise he could get. He thought that coaching the juniors was a good diversion of his time, especially since he didn´t want to be seen working too far ahead in his courses.

He reached Professor McGonagall´s office just as the tabby cat that was her Animagus form transformed back into the straight-laced professor. "Mr. Potter, what can I do for you this evening?"

Harry allowed himself to be led into the office and handed a cup of tea. Thanking her graciously, he took a small sip before setting it down. "I just wanted to express my interest in assisting with the juniors´ Quidditch team."

The professor raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure? You could easily be Captain of the House Team, you know."

Harry shook his head. "You and I both know that my strengths are purely in the flying. Ron´s the one that understands the strategy."

She smiled. "You have a remarkable ability to be honest about your own abilities and compliment others. Most people find themselves blinded by what they perceive as their own strengths." She finished her own tea and stood. "I don´t see why you can´t coach the juniors. If I have any other interest, they can assist you. There´ll be a meeting on Thursday evening at eight for the coaches and assistants, in my classroom. See you in class tomorrow, Mr. Potter."

"Thanks, Professor. See you."

Harry was pleased with himself as he headed towards Gryffindor Tower until he reached the Fat Lady and realised that he had no idea what the password was. He had meant to ask Hermione and forgotten completely. Sighing wearily, he sank down to the floor and proceeded to have a conversation with the portrait.

"Good evening, Lady."

"Oh, hello, dear, do you need in?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, but I don´t have the password," he admitted sheepishly. "I ran off before I could ask Hermione."

"Hermione. She´s the pretty prefect that I always see you and the Weasley boy with."

Harry nodded. "Ron," he confirmed. "They´re dating, in case you hadn´t guessed."

The Lady laughed. "Aye, I did. You´re a lot like your mother, you know."

"Really?" Harry was surprised. "People only talk about my father."

"Lily Evans wasn´t as flamboyant or noticeable as your father, although her hair did make her stand out. No, you´re quiet like Lily. A thinker."

At that moment, the portrait swung outward and Hermione peeked her head out. "Oh, Harry, there you are! I just realised that I forgot to tell you the password before you left the Feast. I hope you haven´t been waiting."

"No, I was just talking with the Lady here. Good night, Lady," he smiled at the portrait. "We´ll have to talk again sometime."

"Of course, dear. You run along now, it´s getting late."

Harry stepped into the warmth of the Gryffindor common room and let out a deep breath as he crossed over to the corner where Hermione, Ron, and the rest of his dorm mates were sitting.

"Hey, you lot."

"Hey, Harry." The responsive greetings were warm, and conversation flitted easily between the new term, the duelling club, and Quidditch season. It was just past 10:30 when the rest of his dorm mates went upstairs, but Harry was restless. He wasn´t used to retiring before midnight, and now the common room was nearly silent. He merely sat, thinking over the coming months, watching the crackling fire, when he heard a soft sobbing sound behind him. He stood up and turned around, only to recognise one of the new first year girls.

He approached her quietly, and sat down beside her. "Homesick?" he offered gently.

The girl shook her head. "No-o-o. I´ve always looked forward to coming to Hogwarts, always. But the girls in my dormitory were making fun of my accent and my clothes and even my pajamas!"

Indeed, the girl did have a hint of an American accent. "So you´ve been living abroad then?"

"Yes. My mum´s a consul for the Ministry of Magic. I´m Kelly, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Kelly. I´m Harry. I couldn´t wait to get to Hogwarts either, once I found out about it. It was the opportunity I´d been waiting for, the chance to get away from my aunt, uncle, and horrible cousin. I won´t lie to you, I did make a friend on the train right away, and another before three months was up. They´re still my best friends today. But just because someone made fun of you tonight doesn´t mean they all will. Let me guess, one of them said it, and the others just laughed?"

Kelly nodded miserably. "You think the others were just afraid to say any different? But we´re Gryffindors! We´re supposed to be brave!"

"Bravery doesn´t mean the absence of fear; it just means you do things anyway. And, besides, you´ve got seven years to get really brave."

Kelly giggled. "That´s true. Thanks for the talk. Will I see you around?"

"I´ll be coaching the juniors Quidditch, if you´re interested."

She shook her head and wrinkled her nose. "Nope, sorry. Maybe some of the other girls will be, though."

Harry just nodded understandingly and smiled. "Well, you´d better get back to your bed."

"That´s right!" She sprang up and scampered back to her dorm, leaving Harry shaking his head. He checked his watch then and decided to go upstairs, since it was quarter before midnight. He moved about the dorm quietly and fell into bed, setting his Alarm Charm for six.