Harry Potter and the Path to Power

Chapter V

When Harry woke up once more there was no one in his room, at least no one he knew. There was a nurse tidying up though.

She was a woman of average height. She possessed a pretty face full freckles, and red hair. Weasley red.

As she walked around the room, straightening this, picking up that, she was humming a merry tune until she saw Harry was awake.

"Ah, you're awake, Mr. Potter. Good. How are you feeling? Is there anything I can get you? By the way, your godfather is in the next room taking a nap. If you want I can go wake him up? Or would you like some breakfast? The house elves make a smashing good mushroom-omelette if you like."

The woman was a virtual waterfall of questions.

"Breakfast," Harry said, "I'm starving."

"A very good sign of recovery, a healthy appetite is. I'll get you some immediately.

By the way, my name is Maddy Weasley. I'm a niece of the family you know, but I guess the hair gave it a way, ay? But look at me talking away, while I should be getting you some breakfast. Would you like me to wake Sirius as well?"

"No, just breakfast for now," Harry replied, a little overwhelmed by the continuing onslaught of words, "let Sirius sleep some more, he looked like he needed it yesterday." Harry also felt he needed some time for himself; to compose himself for the things to come.

"You're right about that Mr. Potter, he looks tired. A handsome man he is, but too little sleep and too little to eat.

It's to be expected under his circumstances, terrible thing that; but still it's nothing a good woman can't fix." She had a mischievous grin while saying that and Harry couldn't help but smile back at her for her last remark.

"Please, call me Harry; Mr. Potter reminds me of my professors."

"Sure thing Harry, your breakfast will be here shortly."

After Maddy left nothing happened for a few minutes, until there was a loud pop beside his bed.

There were two house-elves with eyes as big as saucers looking at him. They were holding a large tray with all kinds of food.

They didn't move until one of them seemed to snap out of its trance like stare and said, with reverence in his squeaky voice: "Yous really be Mr. Harry Potter Sir? It really be yous?"

With not a little discomfort Harry answered: "Yes, I'm Harry."

"Such an honour it is for us to meet yous, Mr. Potter Sir. You be the great light that brightened the world after the dark days.

I be Dinky and this be Zonky. We is having your breakfast with us." With that they levitated the tray up to Harry's bed were it rested on a specially attached pedestal.

"Thank you both," Harry said kindly, "I am really hungry."

"Our great honour to serve the great Mr. Harry Potter Sir," the second house-elf peeped, and with that they disappeared again with a pop.

Feeling a little odd after experiencing the House-elves' open adulation, Harry turned his mind to breakfast.

On his tray Harry found a variety of food and drink, he tried a little of everything.

The nurse, Maddy, had been right; the mushroom-omelette was delicious.

On the tray was also a newspaper, The Daily Prophet.

BOY WHO LIVED AWAKENS ON BIRTHDAY

Has Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, pulled off another miracle?

At a small party in honour of his birthday, Harry Potter came out of his coma.

In a statement made in the lobby of St. Mungo's Hospital, Professor Albus Dumbledore stated that The Boy Who Lived has made a remarkable recovery with no apparent after effects from the torture inflicted by his uncle, Vernon D.

Vernon D. turned out to be one of those rare Adepts whose talents are actually magical. Even before Vernon D. acquired Mr. Potter's wand, he had already begun a regimen of torture by Muggle means at the start of the summer holidays.

Mr. Potter was in the care of Vernon D. and family since they are his last living relatives.

This newspaper, however, questions the wisdom of letting Mr. Potter stay with these Muggles as we have uncovered evidence of prior mistreatment, including malnutrition, incarceration and mental abuse.

How was it possible that the signals were not heeded previously?

Vernon D. will be tried at a Ministry court in six days time as the crime was committed by magic. In all probability, Mr. Potter will be obligated to attend this trial as it is required by law that the victim is present if possible. Rumours also have it that Mr. Potter will replace Remus Lupin, known werewolf, as the main witness.

In conclusion, this newspaper calls upon the Ministry to launch a full inquiry into why Mr. Potter was left in the care of a barbarian.

Furthermore, this newspaper wonders if the penalty for this heinous crime should not be elevated to a Dementor's Kiss.

And last but most surely not least, this newspaper extends its well wishes to Harry Potter and hopes that all the prayers of our readers are with him in this most difficult of times.

Adelia Socks- Chief Editor

Page 2- All the details of the trials arrangements

Page 2- The full story - What really happened at 4 Privet Drive

Page 4- Is Harry Potter truly sane? by Rita Skeeter

Page 5- Adepts, what are they? by George Theoricetius

Page 8- Vernon D. a personal history by Rita Skeeter

When Harry looked up from the newspaper, still seething with anger about the details from his ordeal in print, he saw that all the plates on the tray had cracked in half.

At that moment Maddy Weasley came storming in: "Oh no, you shouldn't have seen that just yet. Any aggravation now would be bad for you. The house-elves must have missed that memo."

"What do you mean bad for me? You mean I shouldn't get upset, don't you? And let me guess, it was Dumbledore who told you so, wasn't it?" Harry's voice was getting louder and louder as he spoke. "Why is it that I shouldn't get angry? TELL ME."

"Calm down, Mr. Potter," said the serene voice of Albus Dumbledore, who had just walked into the room. "Don't you see what you are doing?

You are scaring Maddy. And you are doing a great deal of accidental magic."

Dumbledore was right.

Every glass, pitcher, plate and mug in the room had shattered by now. The knives, forks and spoons on the plate had been bent and several objects such as books and scrolls were flying through the room in circles.

"Calm down, Mr. Potter. All will be explained in due time."

Harry felt all his anger leave him, it just flowed into nothingness. The flying objects gently descended to the Floor.

"You're doing it again, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I am using magic to drain your anger. It is, unfortunately, necessary.

I have spoken to the doctors and although they are desperate to find out how you survived and kept sane, they have no other reason to keep you here, you are physically healthy. If I were you I would not give them cause to keep you here for reasons of... mental instability."

Harry realized the truth of Dumbledore's words and looked like nothing more than a scolded little boy.

"I'm sorry, Maddy; I didn't mean to yell at you... sorry, Professor," he said in an apologetic tone of voice, staring at his hand which he had folded in his lap.

"Quite alright Harry, you've been through a lot and I understand your... distress," Maddy said with a soothing voice. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." And with a wink at Harry she took the tray and left.

As if nothing had happened Dumbledore continued in a lighter voice.

"I have arranged for you to stay at the Burrow for the remainder of the summer. I have placed several 'special' wards there."

Harry felt himself fill up with joy. "Really? The Burrow, with Ron?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, and as I understand it, Miss Granger has decided to cancel her trip to Bulgaria and stay with you at the Burrow."

If a mirror had been present Harry would have seen that his eyes shone with a definite magical quality. It was as if a light shone in them.

Dumbledore saw this and was pleased that Harry was still able to feel the emotion of joy. It was a good sign, he thought.

Chapter VI

Sirius walked in on the last of Harry's conversation with Dumbledore.

"I will be at the Burrow one day before the trial to discuss a few things with you, Mr. Potter. And on the day of the trial, I will personally escort you there," were professor Dumbledore's last words.

"Ah, Sirius... have you made all the arrangements?"

"Everything has been taken care of, Professor. Harry will travel to the Burrow by Ministry car as the Floo system has been taken off line there for security reasons."

Sirius turned to Harry.

"However, Harry, this means you will have to go outside this sealed off ward. You should be prepared to meet several people on your way, maybe even reporters. Can you handle that?"

Harry nodded, a bit weary.

"There are some clothes in the bathroom, I suggest you take a shower and get dressed. Arthur will be here shortly to escort you."

"Al right, Sirius. Are you coming to the Burrow as well? And is Ron coming with Mr. Weasley?"

'No Harry, I'm not coming to the Burrow, however much I would want to, it just wouldn't be safe.

I'm going to lay low someplace for a while, better you don't know where.

And no, Ron isn't coming to pick you up. It would have been too conspicuous, those reporters outside would have seen him and made the connection instantly.

Now go take your shower," Sirius said and gently nudged Harry towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was a standard affair, but it had a nice shower.

Still sore from lying still for an extended period of time, Harry turned the warm water on all the way and stepped under it; he did not feel the need to add any cold water.

After taking a luxurious shower, Harry dried himself off and went looking for the promised clothes.

He found a pair of khaki pants and a black sweater, boxers, socks, a T-shirt and a pair of shining black shoes.

They seemed a bit large, but they fitted perfectly, maybe it was some kind of charm?

When he went to the mirror he couldn't see himself, it was all fogged over.

"I'm sorry dear, but I can't see you, to much mist in the air; you took such a hot shower," the mirror said.

Oh well, there was no use in using a mirror anyway, he never could get his hair to do what he wanted.

*****

When he came out of the bathroom Sirius just stared at him.

Mr. Weasley, who was standing next to him, had a bit of a surprised look about him.

"What?"

"Uhm, it's just that you remind me of your father a bit more every day..." Sirius said with something like wonder in his voice.

How was it that Sirius didn't seem as big to Harry as he used to? Oh well, it was probably just in his head.

"We're leaving the hospital through the back; there's a car waiting for you there. Let's go."

After saying goodbye to the doctors and nurses at the exit of the ward (which was accompanied with lots of admonishments like "be sure to get a lot of rest" and "remember to take the potions we've packed for you" and a promise from one of the doctors to come check up on him) Sirius left Harry in Mr. Weasley's hands, transformed into his dog-form and with one final bark goodbye ran through a different door.

Mr. Weasley and Harry headed to the back exit.

While making small talk with Harry, Mr. Weasley kept a high pace as if he was trying to avoid being stopped.

This, however, turned out to be futile; at every corner they ran into patients and staff alike, and they all had to shake Harry's hand and wish him good luck or good health.

"Good to have you back, Mr. Potter."

"Terrible thing, what happened to you, Mr. Potter."

"I hope the person that did it rots in Azkaban, Mr. Potter."

"All the best dearie, my prayers are with you."

"It's a shame I wasn't called in on your case, Mr. Potter. I'm sure I would have had you up and about much sooner. You see I've developed this potion that..."

"Good luck, Harry. All the best."

"So good to see you all better, Mr. Potter."

"Such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter."

"Who are all those people Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked in wonder. "Do I know them?"

Mr. Weasley had a slight blush when he explained: "You see, Harry, when the news of your condition got out, to the general public I mean, there was a surge of support, and when you made your recovery there was something of a national party.

I'm afraid your fame and popularity have once more skyrocketed.

There was even talk of a 'Harry Potter Health Foundation' to pay for your medical bills, but that idea was nipped in the bud by Professor Dumbledore."

Harry could do nothing more than groan, he didn't like the attention that came with his fame.

When they arrived at the backdoor, there were several large wizards waiting for them, Harry looked at Mr. Weasley questioningly.

"These are the hospital's security wizards, Harry. They've had a busy time because of the reporters that have been hanging around here. They're here to make sure no reporters prevent us from getting to the car, although your departure has been kept secret."

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," Harry said, embarrassed.

"No problem, Mr. Potter," said the senior security wizard. "It is, after all, our job. To be quite honest, I haven't had this much fun since I retired from the hit wizard squad. There's nothing like bugging a few reporters." He had a big smirk on his face; Harry felt he was smiling himself.

"When we open this door the car will be about 10 meters away. There are a few reporters there, but they're all juniors, they've been placed there just in case. They shouldn't give us any trouble, probably shout a few questions. Just ignore them. Ready?"

Harry nodded to the security wizards and they opened the door. As he walked out of the door preceded by some of the security wizards, several of the reporters spotted him.

"Mr. Potter, a few questions, please?"

"Mr. Potter, how do you feel?"

"Harry, do you hate your uncle?"

More reporters Apparated in.

"Mr. Potter, is it true you will be seeking compensation from the Ministry for making you stay with your relatives?"

"Harry, is it true you're in love with Hermione Granger?

"Harry, are the rumours that you are Albus Dumbledore's secret great-grandson true?"

"Mr. Potter, will you be seeking personal revenge against Vernon Dursley?"

"Mr. Potter, is Vernon Dursley a henchman of Sirius Black?"

"Mr. Potter, is Vernon Dursley a henchman of 'You Know Who'?"

"Mr. Potter, is your uncle 'You Know Who'?"

"Harry, isn't this just another scheme to get attention?"

The questions completely overwhelmed Harry and it was a good thing Mr. Weasley was there to drag Harry to the car.

Some of the questions were so bizarre that Harry didn't even understand them. The security wizards had to use force to keep the reporters at bay; they were so desperate to get to Harry that they would have crushed him.

Already several reporters had been stunned, but this did not seem to scare of any of the others.

When Harry and Mr. Weasley finally got into the car that had been waiting for them and the door closed, all sounds vanished. "Thank Merlin for silencing charms." Mr. Weasley muttered.

Once inside, Harry saw that the car was much larger on the inside then in was on the outside, in fact it was huge. It contained a complete bar.

"Would you like a drink, Harry? It will be a while before we get to the Burrow, can't skip in London you know, Muggles might see."

"Skip? What's that?" Harry asked.

"Oh, sorry. Sometimes I forget you don't know all these things. Skipping is a lot like Apparating, actually it's the technical term for Apparation done by inanimate objects like this car, or the Knight Bus, for example."

"Oh," was all that Harry could say. "But the Knight Bus 'skipped' to Diagon Alley once when I was aboard." Harry still had trouble with the concept of 'skipping'.

"Ah yes. You see the Knight Bus is an exception because it has been charmed to be invisible too Muggles, and it only travels at night. This car isn't charmed like that, to small; besides, it's broad daylight.

But back to the subject at hand, a drink. Let's see what we have here. Ogden Firewhiskey,... no, you're a bit young for that," Mr. Weasley said, followed by: "Although I doubt you can be called young after what you've been through," under his breath.

"Pineapple juice? No? What else do we have? Wine, chardonnay. I don't think so. Butterbeer? Or Pumpkin juice?"

"Pumpkin juice, please."

While sipping on his pumpkin juice Harry looked out of the window to see were they were.

"We're in the middle of London. How do they keep something like St. Mungo's hidden?" Harry wondered.

"It's been charmed, of course. The Muggles don't see the actual hospital. What they do see is a parking garage that is always full. Bless their Muggle hearts, we get hundreds of letters a year complaining about that."

The car drove through London at speeds Harry still thought amazing and a little bit dangerous.

He was no longer surprised at the way objects and other cars seemed to jump out of the way, but couldn't shake an uneasy feeling.

They soon left London and took a quiet country road; a loud bang sounded and the car skipped to the Burrow.

"Welcome back, Harry," Mr. Weasley smiled. As Harry stepped out of the car Ron, Hermione and the twins came storming out of the house.

"Good to have you here, mate." Ron shouted even before he had reached Harry.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione said only a little less loudly, "glad you're out of the hospital."

She hugged him upon reaching him; Ron slapped him on his shoulder in a manly way.

The twins had similar greetings and everyone was talking at once.

There was talk of Quidditch (Ron, of course), OWL revision (Hermione) and pranks combined with Quidditch (the twins) and Harry trying to answer them all at once.

"Shall we go inside first? I'm sure Mrs. Weasley wants to welcome Harry." Mr. Weasley had to raise his voice to be heard.

Still talking all at once, the group moved towards the house. Harry's spirits lifted; he had actually not noticed that he had been down before, it had become too much of a natural state of being for him.

.

Inside Mrs. Weasley was cooking up a large lunch, but dropped all her activities when she saw Harry and enveloped him in a motherly hug.

"Hello dear, welcome. Maybe even a little welcome home?

How do you feel? Do you need to lie down? I hope you're hungry; I've made a special lunch.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, it's good to be here and I feel fine, I'm sure I don't have to lie down, but lunch does sound wonderful, I'm starving," Harry answered.

Strangely enough, the now beaming Mrs. Weasley was shorter then he remembered; in fact, Harry thought he was taller then she was when just a year before he had been just a bit smaller.

"Hi, Harry," a soft voice behind him said.

"Hi, Gin, how are you?" Ginny had certainly grown. She was now a lanky teenager and showed promise of becoming a fairly tall woman.

"Fine, you?" Immediately after that Ginny had a horrified look on her face. "I'm sorry Harry, I shouldn't have asked that with all the..."

Harry held up his hand to stop her. "Don't worry about it Gin, I'm fine and thank you for asking. It's nice to be treated normally." Harry smiled. The horrified look on Ginny's face was replaced by a fierce blush.

Lunch was grand affair as Mrs. Weasley had gone all out. There were so many different kinds of food that Harry had a hard time choosing.

"Want to go play Quidditch after lunch, Harry?" Ron asked. "I need to practise. I want to try out for the team this year."

"Well, we have at least five days to train you up," Harry replied, "We meaning, I take it the twins will help as well?" Ron only nodded, his mouth too full to talk.

Harry snorted and continued: "After that, Professor Dumbledore is coming to talk to me and the day after that is the trial." The mood at the table plummeted with the mention of the trial.

"We'll be going with you Harry, so don't worry too much about it. Wizarding trials are usually pretty quick so it should be over in no time," Mr. Weasley said.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Harry said in a gloomy tone. "It was a wonderful meal, Mrs. Weasley; may I be excused?"

"Of course, Harry dear."

"I think I will lie down for a moment after all. Excuse me." With that, Harry went up to Ron's room, where he would be sleeping again.

"Poor boy, he's been through more than any man should be expected to bear." Mrs. Weasley had a tear rolling over her cheek as she said this.

"We'll give him a few minutes, and then go get him for a game of Quidditch," Ron decided. "That will cheer him up."

Both twins nodded.

"We'll do a two against two game," George chimed in.

"Why? I'm sure Ginny and Hermione would love to join us," Fred said with a wicked smile on his face. "You'd love to join us wouldn't you, Hermione?"

Hermione returned an imperious stare, determined not to let the twins get the better of her. "I do not play Quidditch and you know it, Fred Weasley. I suggest you ask someone else to join you if you need a sixth, your father perhaps?"

"Sorry kids, but I have to return to the office this afternoon; I only had the morning off to pick up Harry. Have to go." And quick as he could Mr. Weasley left for work.

Ron jumped up. "Me and Hermione will go cheer up Harry." Grabbing Hermione's hand he dragged her from the kitchen.

Fred and George heard her voice come from the living room: "Fred, George, you help your mother with the dishes now."

Both Fred and George slowly turned toward their mother and saw she was already pointing at the large mountain of dishes.

"Drat," they both muttered.

*****

Harry was sitting on his mattress, back against the wall; his knees were pulled up against his chest, his arms circling them. He was staring into nothingness. He had not bothered to light any lights and the drapes were closed.

The mood in the room was gloomy.

Slowly the door opened and Ron peeked around the corner. When he saw Harry just sitting there, he opened the door fully.

Both Ron and Hermione were worried about Harry's lack of reaction to their entrance.

"Harry...? Come on, mate, cheer up."

Slowly Harry looked up. Ron and Hermione could still see anger, horror, pain, fear and sadness floating in Harry's eyes, it was unsettling.

"Come on, mate; let's go play a game of Quidditch," Ron said, his voice now artificially cheerful.

"Yeah, Quidditch," Harry said in an unsteady voice, "I'd love to. Let's go."

And with that Harry quickly stood up and grabbed his broom, rushing outside. Ron and Hermione were left in the room, exchanging worried looks.

*****

The rest of the day was filled with Quidditch, talk of Quidditch and even more Quidditch.

Hermione was meanwhile sitting at the edge of the clearing were the boys were playing, reading a book and catching a little sun.

Sunbathing while reading had become something of a hobby for Hermione and she had a nice tan. Even her hair was a little lighter from the amount of sun it had seen.

Hermione hid how she had grown under baggy clothes even when sunning; she was somewhat embarrassed.

Because of her use of the time turner she was actually older then most people thought, and she had developed accordingly.

Hermione was, as always, amazed by the change that Harry underwent when he flew. All the worries and pain he usually bore on his shoulders just seemed to disappear.

She wondered what Harry thought of the changes the restorative potions had wrought. He was at least 6 to 7 inches taller than the last time she had seen him and she thought she could see the muscles grow now that he was exercising.

She hoped that Harry would now undergo the normal growth process that boys went through at his age, instead of the stunted growth that was his history.

Hermione was torn between pulling Harry from his broom, admonishing him about the dangers of reckless flying every time he pulled another stunt, and laughing for the joy that shone in his eyes every time he was successful.

And then there was Ron.

Ron had grown as well, although not as dramatically as Harry.

Did he still like her? Hermione wasn't sure.

She had thought so after the Yule Ball last year, but after Harry's hospitalisation there had not been an opportunity to find out.

Did she want to find out?

She wasn't even sure what she felt towards Ron herself.

One thing was sure at least; she was not in love with Viktor Krum.

The way the Bulgarian Quidditch player had reacted to Hermione's cancellation was proof enough for her of his attitude.

She was not a possession for any man, to be at his beck and call; and the way he had demanded her 'attendance' for his birthday was outrageous.

She was, however, scared that Ron would be little better.

She decided that now was not the time for these contemplations and returned to her book, a very interesting treatise on wizard rule and government.

*****

The mood at dinner was a little forced as everyone was trying to avoid any subjects that might upset Harry.

This was frustrating for Harry as he wanted to know if Voldemort had taken any action while he himself had been out of contact with the world.

The subject of Voldemort was, however, avoided almost as much as the subject of Vernon Dursley.

He did have a good time talking to Bill and Charlie though.

They had come over for dinner together with Percy and were now talking about their respective jobs.

Harry suddenly realised he would have to get a job after Hogwarts.

He had absolutely no idea what he would like to do, but then again he had little idea of what kinds of jobs there were in the wizarding world. Then the thought occurred to him that he probably didn't have to look for a job anyway, the changes of him surviving Voldemort were slim to none. The thought depressed him.

After dinner the evening was pleasant enough.

Ron and Harry played wizard's chess; Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were discussing the coming school year, and Mr. Weasley was reading the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. The twins had gone to their room and Bill, Charlie and Percy had gone to Percy's house.

He had bought it at the beginning of the summer and Bill and Charlie had been staying with him for the duration of their vacation.

"I was so nervous when I got my letter," Hermione told them, "I couldn't believe it when I opened it and it said I was to be a Prefect."

"We never doubted it for a minute," Harry told her, he had been listening to the conversation while Ron was contemplating his next move.

"That reminds me, dear," Mrs. Weasley said while she got up and walked to the small desk in the corner of the room, "I have your Hogwarts letter here. The owl came to the hospital while you were 'sleeping', it didn't understand your condition. Here you go."

Harry stared at the letter.

"Well go on dear, open it."

"I'm just wondering if it'll say I'm a Prefect as well."

"Sorry mate," Ron blushed, "I'm a Prefect as well, and you know there is only one male Prefect per year, per house." Ron seemed to be ashamed of the fact that he was a Prefect and Harry was therefore not. "I don't understand why they made me a Prefect; it's not as if my grades are that good. The letter did say something of having been of 'service to the school', but why then choose me instead of you..." Ron's voice trailed off as he seemed to realise he was babbling.

Harry was somewhat surprised. Ron was a Prefect and he wasn't? Not that he thought Ron didn't deserve it, but it was just that... well, his mum and dad had been Head -boy and -girl and he had done some distinguishing things...

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump,
International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mister Potter,

It is my duty to inform you that The Protectorate Council has been reinstated for the first time in 350 years. It is my great pleasure to inform you that you have been selected to be one of the chosen Proctors.

Proctors are expected to arrive at Hogwarts one week prior to the start of the school year. Your duties and privileges will be explained to you there.

Proctors are obliged to acquire the following items in addition to their normal school supplies.

If you cannot afford these protective items you may draw them from the Hogwarts armoury.

Included in this letter you will find your Proctor badge.

Your Proctor badge is also the portkey to Hogwarts. It is set to August 25 at ten o'clock in the morning.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster

"What in Merlin's name is a Proctor?" Harry asked.

Everyone was looking puzzled, wondering what Harry was talking about, except Hermione, who looked like she was trying to remember something but couldn't.

"I'm sure I read something about it, but where? Councils of Magic? No. Battling the Darkness? No. Ah, yes; Hogwarts: A History, of course." And with that she leaped for the stairs and ran up them two steps in one stride.

When she came back she was carrying the giant tome.

"What would we do without Hermione and Hogwarts: A History," Ron joked.

"It was somewhere in the beginning" Hermione said while she was paging through the book, clearly ignoring Ron.

"Here it is: The Protectorate Council was a selected group of students, chosen purely for their abilities in the field of defence, duelling and other forms of combat. Their task was to help defend the castle from invaders, guard for intruders and keep the peace.

When the time of constant war and sieges ended the council was disbanded, but their facilities and charter still exist.

The decision to reinstate the Protectorate Council lies solely with the Headmaster of Hogwarts who is its ultimate authority. Proctors receive special training from the available teachers to better help them do their jobs.

No age or year is mandatory to be a Proctor but they are almost always 6^th and 7^th years.

The leading Proctor is called the Proctor-Commander.

The position is attained by defeating the current Proctor-Commander in a duel. A challenge to said duel may only be issued after receiving the teachers' recommendation as being a competent leader and having a firm grasp of tactics. The Duel is to take place in the Great Hall and is open to all students and faculty.

A Proctor is the ultimate student authority in matters of security and can in rare cases even outrank a teacher."

"Wow, outrank a teacher; imagine that," Ron said in a hushed tone. "Do you think the new Protectorate Council will have the same tasks and authority?"

Hermione was now in full lecture mode:

"Well I seriously doubt that, for instance 'keeping the peace' is an outdated concept. Back then England was divided into several different countries and political areas. Strife between students from rivalling countries was not unheard of, especially during times of war. These days that kind of division no longer exists.

Besides, that part of the job would now belong to a Prefect anyway." Hermione sounded as if she was partly defending her own station.

"I guess I'll be finding out at Hogwarts," Harry interjected,to end any discussion on the topic. He wasn't sure about the implication of this job.

"When are we visiting Diagon Alley anyway? I still need to get my things. What about you three? Where are my old things anyway?"

"Uhm, Harry dear... your old things, they were all destroyed. Your... Vernon burned them all. You'll have to buy all of it again; you'll need them for OWL-revisions.

As for Diagon Alley, we'll be visiting it after... after the trial; the day before you leave for Hogwarts at the latest." Mrs. Weasley said.

"Oh, alright... what about those dragon hide items, do you know where I can get them? Or should I draw them from the Hogwarts armoury?"

"I didn't even know Hogwarts had an armoury," Ron muttered absently.

"It would be best to get the protective gear for yourself, dear. You see, every sub-species of dragon has a different hide and it has to suit your magic if you're going to be using it as armour; if it doesn't suit you it will impede you.

The fit is also important, if it doesn't fit perfectly there is a change that any magic it stops, spills behind it.

I think I can find out were to get the armour. Don't you worry about it.

These coming days are meant to be fun days." Mrs. Weasley had a pensive look on her face as she said this.

The evening ended in the same mood as it had begun.