Chapter Sixteen
The loud toot the train was emanating was their cue to get ready. Upon waking, Harry realized he couldn’t move. Something heavy was pressing down on his chest, and he was having a difficult time of breathing. He then saw a pool of red hair on his chest, along with a porcelain hand with pink fingernails. Ginny.
Although he’d never slept with a heavy weight on his chest, he decided this was kind of nice. He chose to merely lie there, pretending to be asleep for a moment while the others woke up. When he opened his eyes again, he saw a robed Hermione and Ron looking down at them.
“Aren’t you two just adorable,” said Ron, unhelpfully.
“Awww!” was all Hermione could say.
When Harry tried to move, Hermione stopped him. “No! Gently wake her.”
Harry got scared. “What? How? I don’t know what to do!” he whispered desperately.
Hermione clicked her tongue. Ron looked like he rather sympathized with Harry. “You’re hopeless,” said Hermione, and she carefully shook Ginny awake.
“No Mum, I don’t want to,” she said sleepily, and cuddled closer to Harry.
His stomach was in knots. He silently pleaded with Hermione to help. She spoke louder. “Ginny! The train’s stopped. Here are your robes. Put them on,” she said sternly, and tossed her robes onto her reluctant friend.
Ginny grumpily got up and dressed in her robes, while Harry did the same. He whispered a thanks to Hermione. The foursome got off of the train, and roamed toward an empty carriage with the familiar thestrals at the harnesses. With a sigh, Ron said, “We didn’t see much of Malfoy on the train. Damn, it was becoming tradition,” he dripped with sarcasm.
Hermione looked haughty. “Good. We can start a tradition of Malfoy-free train rides.”
“You spoke too soon,” said Ginny, pointing at the blond demon himself.
“Potter! Do you seriously always have everyone else do your dirty work? Even your weasel girlfriend is in on it now,” he eyed her appraisingly. He obviously wanted to save face from the incident before the train, without losing a limb to Ron’s little sister.
“Sure,” said Ginny. “At least he has real friends, unlike those power-hungry goons that have their noses glued to your bum.”
“Speaking of brown-nosers,” he said, side-stepping the cut on his friends, “I hear Hermy, here, can’t even save her own skin, much less Scar-head. At least that’s one good thing my father did before he died, you worthless sack of Mudblood.” He’d paid Hermione an insult beyond words. He had pulled the last card out of Hermione’s ‘Just Ignore Him’ deck.
“Considering how many times I’ve beaten you- in so many ways- you certainly have some bullocks, you idiot,” she said in the most scathing tone anyone had heard out of her. Then, with a swirling wand movement, and a short incantation (Contortum Cullioniste), Draco was doubled over in pain, and then on the ground. Harry and Ron stared in horror at the spectacle- and it seemed to affect them more deeply than the girls, who stared with a look of complete satisfaction on their surprisingly angelic-looking faces.
When Draco began to stand again- with great effort- the foursome turned quickly, and made their escape into one of the many coaches. The girls were giggling- no, laughing their insides out- until they could no longer breathe. As they doubled over to catch their breath, the boys kept their stunned silence, and fearful stare. Ron broke the silence. “Hermione, how could you do that?”
“What?” she snapped. “You heard what he said. You know what he did, and what he has done to me for years!”
“But that looked really painful,” said Harry.
“It was the equivalent of me punching him in the stomach, or kneeing him you-know-where. The pain only lasts for a few seconds, and a moment later, well . . . a side-effect occurs that I don’t think he’ll be upset about.”
Ginny smiled. “He’ll probably ask you to do it again soon.”
Ron squinted his eyes. “What side-effect?”
“Well. Hm, how can I put this politely? Pansy Parkinson is probably enjoying the effects right now.”
A realization, and a graphic mental image, dawned on the boys. They didn’t like it, but had their own unfortunate side-effects. “Sounds like a favor to me,” said Ron.
“Eh,” said Hermione with a wry grin. “I did it for the seconds of pain. I also wanted to see if it would work. I was reading some healing books while I was tending to Ron this summer, and, well . . . I had no one I was willing to practice on.”
Both the boy’s eyes widened. Ron said, “Thank you so much for not ever practicing on me.”
The girls giggled. The yawns set in, as they all were still rather tired. After a particularly audible yawn from Ginny, Ron asked (to Harry’s embarrassment), “What’s the matter Gin? Your pillow wasn’t comfortable enough?”
Harry and Ginny blushed simultaneously, although on the latter, it looked quite brighter. Harry stared at the floor, but elbowed Ron as discreetly as he could. He also mumbled a choice word or two, but wasn’t heard over Hermione’s screech of “Oh! We’re here!”
Soon enough, the massive cluster of Hogwarts students was ascending the steps to the castle, and followed the hallways to the Great Hall. As always, whispers followed Harry through the giant room. He figured it was about Malfoy, incidents one and two, and blew off the attention. When the four sat down together, though, Harry noticed that Ginny was drawing quite a bit of attention as well- some of it negative. Most of the negative energy was being transmitted by Dean Thomas, somewhat further down the table. “Oh no,” thought Harry. Another uncomfortable year in the ol’ dormitory. Last year was tough on him, when some of his own roommates thought he was mad. He was hoping for a bit more fun, but with Dean’s AND Ginny’s anger, it wouldn’t be the tea party he was hoping for.
“Oh! Look!” said Hermione, gesturing toward the entrance. Her jubilant grin said enough, but like a traffic accident, they couldn’t avoid looking.
With the strut of an international supermodel, Draco Malfoy pompously floated into the Great Hall, if such a combination were possible. He had him arm hooked through the crook of not just Pansy’s arm, but also Millicent’s. He looked happy, and the girls looked flushed and . . . well, as satisfied as Hermione was during the painful bit of her attack on him. Fortunately for the rest of the student body, Malfoy’s body was strategically covered by the many folds of his robes.
“First Years, this way.”
Professor McGonagall’s stern voice rang through the hall, and signaled the beginning of the sorting ritual. She gave the first years instructions, and the hat was brought out and put on a stool. The brim broke open, and the hat began to sing.
“I am called the Sorting Hat
And I have a job to do:
To divide you up among the houses
According to traits that suit you.
Each house has its own strengths
With admirable qualities, all.
You can see them in each student
As you pass them in the hall.
Gryffindor house is so well known
For great valor and great strength.
To save an innocent from danger,
They’ll go to any length.
Hufflepuff house is loyal.
They’re friendly and work hard.
They value fair-play as well,
And effort is never sub-par.
Ravenclaw house is clever,
They’re the smartest of them all.
They know their priorities,
And have got a gift of gall.
Slytherins are so ambitious;
Entrepreneurs to the core.
Many ancestors of this house
Can be found in ancient lore.
Know this before I separate;
It is crucial for you to know.
It’s only as a group undivided,
That our power will continue to grow.
So now I must perform the task
The founders made me for.
Once a group of shared experiences,
You’ll be divided into four."
“Well, that was the same stupid message as last year,” complained Ron. “You’d think it could think of something clever and new with all that time in Dumbledore’s office.”
“Maybe . . . it was a bit . . . I could . . .”said Hermione, deep in thought.
“Hermione? You’ve got to work on clarification, really,” said Ginny.
“What? No . . . thanks.”
Raised eyebrows were all around as the Sorting Hat began its unending task of separation. There were an unusual number of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws this year. Harry thought that had to bode well for the good fight. They, of course, clapped for each addition to their house, as was expected. Right when Ron practically began snoring once again. “Ron! For Pete’s sake, stay awake!’ she hissed.
“Who’s Pete?” he asked, annoyed.
Dumbledore stood, and the room fell silent. I know you are all tired, and would enjoy catapulting into your food, and for that reason, I will get the worst over with.” He smiled at the many faces staring back at him. Some were blank. Some were concerned. Some blessed souls were obviously happy. His eye twinkled at the Slytherin table, with some hidden knowledge. “The forest is forbidden to all who are alive in this castle. However, I simply cannot stop the zombies.” The students looked confused. Zombies were things made up by Muggles to scare their children (and create a fun use for toilet paper).
The esteemed headmaster continued. “Mr. Filch would like me to announce that there are now well over nine hundred forbidden items, with thanks to some recent students. If you have any doubts about the contents of your trunks, please look at the list fastened to Mr. Filch’s door. And now,” the contrast with the serious countenance he now wore was great, “as most of you know, we are at war with the dark side. Lord Voldemort has risen, and has begun taking lives once again. For those of you who have already been touched by a loss, please come see any one of your professors, who would be happy to help or just listen. Some of you may yet see darker times. Those who seek protection for good reasons will always find what they seek within these castle walls. A word to those who wish to take dangerous risks, however,” he paused, gathering his words. “A warning. I cannot protect you from yourselves.”
“Nothing is hopeless. Light will live on. The light is in each of you. Come together to drive away the darkness. Seek happiness. The comfort and protection you seek is here. All you must do, is ask.” Once again, a smile alighted on his face, and the professors and students visibly relaxed. “Now, as some of our foreign friends would say, ‘Chow down’.”
Harry didn’t take time to take in the speech. Instead, he scanned the front table for some familiar faces. Professors McGonagall, Snape, Trelawney, Sprout, Sinistra, and Flitwick were all there, along with Hagrid and- much to Harry’s surprise- Lupin. He flashed a smile at one of his favorite professors, and got a happy grin in return. Already, Harry was feeling less alone.
“Iguthacossysbrkn,” said Ron.
“Swallow!” said a perturbed Hermione.
He did so, then repeated, “I guess the curse is broken. A Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, two years.”
Everyone acknowledged the thought, but they were so hungry, they discarded it and delved into their dishes. After half an hour of gorging, the students were sent to their dormitories to sleep off the weight. The prefects guided the first years to their separate common rooms. After most of the crowd departed, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny stood, and meandered their way to the Gryffindor common room.
The door had already closed by the time they got up there, but a quick “Gobstopper” later, they were inside. Awaiting them was a surprise. A boisterous party was occurring, and on the night before first classes, no less! Hermione was the only one who looked angry about it.
“What’s all this?” asked an astonished Ginny.
Seamus passed her a glass of butterbeer. “We have no idea. This was all set up when we got here.”
“Dumbledore wanted us to pursue happiness, right? Well, far be it from me to disobey!” said Ron, and headed straight for the Butterbeer table. Ginny rolled her eyes and went to go talk to a group of fifth year girls. Ron soon returned, and led Hermione into a shadowy corner.
A song by the Weird Sisters was blasting, although Harry couldn’t tell from where. Radios didn’t work inside the castle grounds. Harry was left alone, and when that happened, he tended to brood, so he searched for someone to talk to. He smiled and gave Seamus a little nod, but he was now talking to Dean, and shot Harry a sour look. Another roommate, gone, he thought. For once, he was actually bothered that Ginny and Dean had broken up on the train.
Thankfully, Katie and Neville came to chat with him. Katie gave him a hug. “So, can’t wait for first practice, eh?”
“I’m banned, remember?”
“Pur-lease. That old frog-woman has got no pull anymore!”
Just then, the portrait opened to reveal Professor McGonagall. Everyone in the room froze. She clicked her tongue at her students. “I shall know who did not get enough sleep by tomorrow morning. However, as your headmaster wishes you to continue as normally, go on . . .Well, go! Have fun.” She said ‘fun’ as if it were a distasteful fungus. The students reluctantly, cautiously began to whisper, laugh and talk again.
“Erm, Professor?”
“Yes, Ms. Bell, what is it?”
“Harry’s back on the team, right?”
“Oh, surely you know the answer to that.”
The three only stared back at her. “Good lord, I thought you were more intelligent than that! Yes, of course he’s back on the team. As if I would ban a member of this year’s house cup champions!”
“You think Gryffindor will win, Professor?” asked Neville.
“Who else is going to?” she bristled slightly. Neville fell silent.
“Professor?” asked Harry, curiously. “Do you know . . .?” he gestured towards the party, moving back into full swing now that no one was going to be punished.
She pursed her lips. “A good host never boasts.”
This surprised them. With a sparkle and an austere air in her wake, she strolled out of the portrait hole, swinging her keys along the way.