A Reflection of Himself

Most of the trip to Hogsmeade was in the rain, much like it had been during Harry's third year. As landscapes drifted past outside the window, Harry's eyelids grew heavy, and the voices of Neville, Luna, and Ginny in the background grew faint.

Suddenly, Harry felt someone shaking him and Ginny's voice saying, "Harry, Harry, wake up; we're nearly there."

"Mmm?" asked Harry's muzzled voice as he opened his eyes and stared at Ginny's blurry form.

"Oh, Harry," she practically scolded, giving him a rough shake, "get your eyes open already and get your robes on. We're all of about five minutes from pulling into the station."

"Oh, right," Harry mumbled, finally sitting up as his eyes refocused and could now see his friends clearly.

"You didn't miss much," Neville said. "Did you have a nice nap, Harry?"

"You sound like Ron," Harry chuckled softly.

For a few minutes, Harry had forgotten about his scar and the secret meeting the night before, but it only took Luna's large eyes resting in an unsettling way upon him for those thoughts to come rushing back, consuming his mind once more.

"What?" Harry asked Luna.

"Oh, nothing," she said airily, shrugging. "It's just that since my uncle took over Daddy's newspaper, it's been so hard to come by any good news. You know, Harry, all this speculation you're having now about You-Know-Who would make for a great cover story."

Luna, who Harry remembered had lost her father to Voldemort and the Death Eaters the previous Christmas, was shocked at how easily she was able to overcome the loss of her only parent. Like Harry, she was an orphan, and for a while, she had no home to go to, until Dumbledore was finally able to track down her long-lost uncle, her father's brother, who had been travelling the world for several years. The man had agreed to make permanent residence in Britain and serve as Luna's guardian until she came of age. He had already, apparently, taken over editting The Quibbler.

"Eh," Neville said warily, "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

Harry could understand Neville's reluctance on the subject, but he also thought that Luna had a good point. After all, it had been an article during his fifth year in The Quibbler that had featured an interview with him and the return of Voldemort that had convinced several people in the wizarding community before the Ministry had even acknowledged Voldemort's return.

"Only problem is," Harry sighed, "we don't know what's really going on."

With another shrug from Luna, the train pulled into the station at Hogsmeade, and the students began filtering out of the train and onto the platform, where they were promptly told to find a carriage. Harry saw Hagrid directing the first years toward the boats that would carry them across the lake and waved at him before stepping into a carriage.

Harry shared the carriage with the same people he had sat on the train with, and with Ginny sitting right next to him, he was not surprised when he felt her small hand reach for his.

"Look at it," she said, nodding toward the castle in the distance. "No matter how many times we return, it's always like seeing it for the first time again."

"Yeah..."

Just as it had always appeared, Hogwarts stood majestically against the night sky. The safe haven for Harry had become his true home these past six years, and with a heavy heart, Harry knew that as the carriage drew closer and closer to the castle, the time drew closer and closer to the official start of his last and seventh year.

After several minutes, the carriages pulled up in front of the main entrance, and Harry, with the other students, exited the carriages and proceeded up the stairs to the open doors. Harry could see Ron and Hermione fulfilling their roles as prefects by helping the younger students toward the castle doors.

Upon entering the castle, Harry noticed that Draco Malfoy was standing not too far away, a smug look on his face.

"Well, well, the infamous Potter returns to Hogwarts after a nice, cozy summer," the blonde-haired boy drawled.

"What's it to you, Malfoy?" Harry muttered. He knew Draco was working for the side of Light now, but that obviously didn't stop him from being a prat.

With a firm hold on Harry's hand, Ginny pulled him back.

"Leave it, Harry," she warned. "He's not worth it."

"No," Draco said, taking a step toward them, "I'd like to answer your question, Potter. What's it to me, you ask? I'll tell you what having a nice summer would have been for me, had I been able to have one, but unlike you, I had duties to perform."

"It's not my fault you chose to take that mark on your arm," Harry said evenly to Draco. "Maybe you should've thought about the consequences of your actions before you made that decision."

"It's not like I had a choice, now is it?" Draco sneered, turning away. "Unlike you and your honorable house, Potter, Slytherin has been spat upon and trampled bare. My father had expectations, and as his son, I was expected to follow, but then again, what would you know about having a father, Potter?"

That last comment stung Harry to the core. He made to reach for his wand, but Ginny's hand was tightly wound around his wrist with a strength Harry didn't know she possessed.

"Harry," she warned, glaring at him straight in the eyes. "Come on. The ceremony is about to begin."

Heaving a large sigh of annoyance and frustration, Harry relented and went with Ginny into the Great Hall, where most of the students were already seated. Meanwhile, Draco stood off in the distance from the others, not feeling like he belonged to any house.

The Slytherin boy watched from his position near the doorway as Professor McGonagall practically paraded the first years into the Great Hall, and he was tempted to roll his eyes at the timid looks on their young faces and the whole ridiculous, in his opinion, manner in which they were led into the Great Hall... year after exhausting year.

After all the first years were assembled in the Great Hall, the ceremony began, and the usual protocol was followed as the Sorting Hat was placed onto a stool, where it began to sing that year's Sorting Song:

After the Sorting Hat had finished singing its song, the first years were sorted in a matter of fifteen minutes, and then Dumbledore stood up and made his usual welcoming speech. Most of what was going on around Harry went in one ear and out the other, for after so many years of experiencing practically the same thing every year, it grew old. Harry knew the rules, even though he oftentimes broke them, but not without good reason, of course. However, near the end of his speech, Dumbledore's powerful voice echoed some words throughout the Great Hall that alarmed several of the students present.

"You all have known for over two years now that Voldemort has returned, and it is only a matter of time before he strikes again. For too long, we have gone on as if nothing has changed, at least many of us have, but things have drastically changed. For those of you who have lost friends and family to his cause, you know all too well what Voldemort is capable of. If you have not heeded my advice in the past, I strongly suggest you do so now, for you never know when Voldemort may choose to strike. It could be when you least expect it."

Harry knew this already, which was all the more reason for him to talk to Dumbledore as soon as possible about his scar hurting, knowing that Voldemort was overly happy about something. With a few murmurs, the students all around began talking, until their voices were so loud that they filled the room.

Harry rushed through the meal, all the while receiving looks of disgust from Hermione, Ginny, and the other girls nearby.

"Have you considered even chewing your food, Harry?" Hermione asked in a motherly voice.

Amused, Ron said, "Hey, for once, she's lecturing you about eating habits instead of me."

"You're not much better, Ronald," Hermione retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry," Harry said while a mouthful, which received more annoyed looks. He swallowed the mouthful of potatoes and meat. "I'm rather in a hurry. You know I need to talk to Dumbledore about you-know-what."

"All right, then, you're excused this time, Harry," Hermione smirked.

"But just this once," added Ginny, kissing him playfully on the cheek.

That kiss made Harry want to stay with his friends, but he knew that he would have to talk to Dumbledore sooner rather than later. However, gorging himself to death was not an effective means to ease his anxiety, and Dumbledore probably wouldn't even be in his office until the entire feast of over.

Finally, students began to leave the Great Hall to retire for the night. As Harry stood up, he noticed that Dumbledore was still seated at the head table. Trying to make eye contact with him, Harry hoped to gain his attention, but Dumbledore was engrossed in conversation with McGonagall beside him.

Somewhat resignedly, Harry left the Great Hall. Ginny managed to catch up with him.

"Hey, you could have waited for me," she pointed out, sounding a little hurt, but more annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," Harry replied, only half-looking at her as he continued to walk. "You know I've got a lot on my mind."

"Yeah, I know, but don't you go forgetting that you do have people around you who care about you, Harry. Don't wind up acting like you did last year, okay?"

Ginny gave him a look that dared him to challenge her words, but giving her a half-hearted smile, Harry said, "Don't worry, Ginny, I won't. I promise."

When they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, Ron and Hermione were already standing there with the first years and were giving the password to the portrait. The portrait swung open, revealing the portal to the Gryffindor common room. Harry found himself losing his patience as he waited for the first years and a few other students who were ahead of him to enter first, but once he was in, he said good night to Ginny with a quick kiss and dashed up the stairs to his dormitory.

Making sure that everything was there and in place, Harry made to leave when Ron walked into the room.

"Hey, mate," he greeted Harry. "Leaving so soon?"

"Well, Dumbledore has to return to his office at some point, right?" Harry asked. Realizing that he didn't know the password, Harry added, "Hey, d'you know the password to Dumbledore's office this year?"

"Well, yeah," Ron stuttered. "It's, er, Chocolate Frogs. Another candy name."

"Thanks," Harry uttered so quickly as he ran out of the room that Ron didn't even have a moment to answer.

Ignoring the students around him, Harry left the Gryffindor common room faster than he had come and walked as quickly as he could without breaking into a run down the corridors and stairs to Dumbledore's office.

Practically out of breath by the time he reached the Headmaster's office door, Harry said between gasps for air, "Chocolate Frogs," and the door opened, revealing the revolving staircase, which Harry immediately stepped on and was carried up to Dumbledore's office.

He knocked on the door a couple of times, but there was no answer.

Don't tell me he's still in the Great Hall. What's taking him so long?

Harry tentatively jiggled the handle, and the door actually creaked open. The room was dark at first, but the moment Harry stepped into the room, sconces lining the walls and the grate became alive with fire. As Harry continued to walk across the room, several of the portraits of Hogwarts's previous headmasters and headmistresses eyed Harry suspiciously.

One in particular, Phineas Nigellus, kept his eyes on Harry all the way from the doorway to the chair Harry chose to take a seat in.

"Just make yourself at home, why don't you?" he sneered.

Looking in the direction of Phineas's portrait, Harry glowered. "Oh, it's you."

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" Phineas asked sarcastically.

Rolling his eyes, Harry chose not to respond.

"Of course, you are the Boy Who Lived, after all, meaning that you feel yourself entitled to special privileges. Hmmm, breaking into the Headmaster's office without his consent must be one of them."

"I didn't 'break in,'" Harry scowled. "I knew the password."

"But did you receive the password from Dumbledore himself?" Phineas's aggravating voice persisted.

"It doesn't concern you," Harry muttered, fully turning away from the portrait.

Phineas was just about to give another snide remark when Dumbledore entered the office.

"Ah, Harry, I thought I might find you here."

Schooling his eyes onto the Headmaster's form as he strolled across the room, Harry simply nodded.

"I needed to talk to you about something."

"So I gathered from the way you were behaving during the welcoming feast. Were you even able to enjoy the food, my boy?" Dumbledore asked innocently.

"The food was great," Harry mumbled.

With a nod, Dumbledore said, "Well, Harry, what is it you wanted to tell me?"

"My scar, sir. It was burning last night, and I knew Voldemort was really happy about something."

The look on Dumbledore's normally placid face was unsettled, and upon seeing this, Harry's stomach dropped. If Dumbledore was reacting in this manner, whatever Voldemort knew was not good... for them, at least.

"What else do you know, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned, eyeing Harry closely, for someone as old and experienced as Dumbledore could read most people like a child's book.

"There was a secret meeting last night. An Order meeting."