12: grimly familiar

When he gets back to the compartment he sits down again with relief. Most of the girls are gone, but Susan’s there, helping Terry and Neville wrestle with a copy of the Monster Book while Bear snarls at it from behind their elbows. Harry shows them the trick of calming it down, and then everyone else taking Care needs to know too as they trickle back in, and then there’s barely enough time to tuck Bear back into his trunk before they’re at the station. Harry promises to let him out as soon as he can.

He follows Neville and Faye off the train. They’re only on the platform for about thirty seconds before Hermione appears, latching onto his elbow with a hard grip. “Harry! Where’d you go? You never came back, and those things came by—!”

“I’m fine,” Harry says, easing his way out of her grip. “It—er—just sort of looked into our compartment and then left.” Neville shoots him a look.

“Why didn’t you come back, mate?” Ron demands.

“Sorry.” Harry isn’t sorry and his tone comes out short. “I ran into Neville and Faye, and they asked me if I wanted to sit with them, and there were a whole bunch of other people. I guess I got caught up.”

Ron opens his mouth, probably to object, but Faye shoves Harry towards a carriage briskly. “Thanks,” he whispers, grinning, as they climb aboard, followed by Neville and Hermione.

Hermione takes one look at the book in Faye’s hands and she’s off. “Oh, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three! Of course I already know most of them, but it’s so nice to see someone else preparing for classes—” She pauses to give Harry a stink eye, which he ignores.

“What happened with the dementors for you?” Harry says loudly. Judging by Faye’s expression, she’s about two seconds from braining Hermione with the book.

“Right—well, it was horrible, we got all cold…” Hermione shivers and rubs her arms. “But the Professor jumped up and shot some kind of silvery spell at it, and said ‘You are not welcome here,’ and it left.”

“I need to learn that spell,” Harry says fervently.

“You could ask him about it,” Faye suggests. “Or look it up.”

“I’ll look it up, Harry, don’t you worry, otherwise it might take forever to find!” Hermione says very quickly.

Now Neville and Faye are both looking at her strangely.

Why is this his life? “Are you doing Runes, Faye?”

“Yes.” Faye visibly forces a smile onto her face. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Oh, me too! I can tutor both of you,” Hermione offers.

Fortunately, their carriage rolls to a halt, and Harry can make his escape before Faye actually does clobber Hermione with a textbook. He wouldn’t put it past her.

Ron tumbles out of the next carriage followed by Seamus, Dean, and Ravenclaw Anthony Goldstein. “Oi, Harry! Quit disappearing on me like that, mate!”

“Can we just go get dinner?” says Harry.

Draco Malfoy tries to catch his eye in the entrance hall, but Harry studiously ignores him. He wants a quiet year, dammit. No dueling in the hallways, no gossip, just homework and hopefully making more friends. He’s spent too long hiding and only talking to like two people.

“Granger! A word in my office, please.”

Hermione squeaks. “Oh, that’s Professor McGonagall! I’ll be right back!”

Harry can’t help the relief he feels when she’s off. Honestly, Hermione’s been there through some really bad times, but sometimes she grates.

Neville and Faye make a point of bracketing Harry at the table, and a red-faced Ron gets pushed down by Fred and George, who plunk themselves onto the bench opposite Harry with Angelina and Oliver in tow. “Hey, Harry—good to see you—ready for the season?” Oliver says enthusiastically.

“You have a one-track mind,” Angelina informs him, “and it’s not for the thing most boys think about.”

Harry feels himself flush, but Fred, George, and Faye just laugh.

“Who’s got time for girls when there’s quidditch?” Oliver says.

Alicia Spinnet arrives just in time to hear this. “You know, it scares me that I think he’s serious.”

Ron keeps trying to get Harry’s attention, but Harry pretends not to see him, and when Hermione comes back a few minutes later she sits down next to Ron before realizing Harry’s not there.

The Sorting seems to crawl by. Harry’s stomach grumbles insistently as he claps politely for each new Gryffindor. Finally, with Yates, Baxter! going to Hufflepuff, McGonagall lowers her scroll and takes her place at the head table.

"Welcome!" says Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard as he stands up. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast. As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He pauses, and Harry remembers what Mr. Weasley said about Dumbledore not being happy with the dementors guarding the school.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continues, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises–or even Invisibility Cloaks," he adds blandly. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors.”

Percy, sitting a few seats down from Harry, puffs out his chest and stares around impressively. Fred immediately sits very straight and sticks his own chest forward dramatically. Their section of the table dissolves into stifled giggles.

Dumbledore pauses again; he looks very seriously around the hall, and nobody moves or makes a sound.

"On a happier note," he continues, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.

"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There’s some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Professor Lupin looks particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

Harry’s eyes land on Professor Snape, the Potions master. “Nev, look,” he whispers, “Snape’s furious.”

Snape stares along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It’s common knowledge that Snape wants the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harry, who hates Snape, is startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It’s beyond anger: that’s a look of blackest loathing.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore says as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin dies away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures professor, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

There’s a few seconds of stunned silence, and then much of Gryffindor breaks out into noisy approval. Harry claps, but he’s frowning. “Hagrid was expelled in third year,” he mutters, “don’t you need some kind of, I dunno, license to teach?”

“Maybe Kettleburn left his lesson plans,” Faye says in an undertone.

Neville shrugs. “At l-least it exp-explains why we g-g-got a biting book.”

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," says Dumbledore when the hall is quiet again. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before them suddenly fill with food and drink. Harry serves himself some of the steak scramble. Tom’s cooking at the Leaky had taught him that vegetables were actually delicious when they weren’t boiled to within an inch of their life the way Aunt Petunia likes him to make them. The mix of bite-size pieces of tender, juicy steak with some kind of sauteed greens, and chopped tomatoes is delicious.

After dinner, feeling full and rather sleepy, Harry joins Neville and Faye in the stream of students rushing up the stairs towards the towers. “Hate—these—bloody—stairs,” Faye puffs as they climb.

“At least they’re in good position,” Harry says, “we could be having to go the long way…”

The staircase they’re on grinds and starts to move. Neville squeaks; Harry and Faye grab his robes and drag him onto the landing before they get separated.

“I think the castle heard you, Harry,” Faye says, laughing at Neville’s bright red face.

“It m-might have,” Neville says. “Old places like this… they’re aware sometimes.”

Harry’s not sure if that’s terrifying or soothing.

Sixth-year prefect Katie Bell is standing by the common room entrance, telling everyone the password—“Fortuna Major”— on their way in. Neville makes a face at that and excuses himself to write a letter to his gran.

Faye tugs Harry over to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, both sitting by one of the big bay windows and giggling about something. “Hey, guys, look who I brought over! He’s taking Divination.”

“Oooh, are you looking forward to it?” Parvati says.

“Yeah, actually.” Harry grins at Faye as she winks and shoves him towards a seat. “I picked up a set of tarot cards this summer, and some rune stones.”

“Runes? Interesting. I like the idea of tea leaves better myself,” Lavender says, “but I read different things call to different people. I can’t wait to learn about tarot, though!”

“I think that’s next year, one of Padma’s housemates was telling her about it.” Parvati flicks her long dark hair over her shoulder. “I’m excited for it. My mum has a deck that’s five or six generations old. I can’t wait to inherit it someday. Morgana knows Padma’s got no interest in the subject.”

“Bollocks.” Harry slumps. “Oh, well, I’ll just teach myself.”

“I was going to go shopping for a deck in Hogsmeade,” Lavender says. “If you want, we could research it together.”

“Count me in,” Parvati says.

Hermione appears at Harry’s elbow, breathing a bit hard from the stairs. “Count you in for what? Harry, could you please stop taking off on us?”

“Studying tarot cards,” Lavender says. Harry didn’t notice how animated she and Parvati were until he sees them both stiffen a bit and lean away from Hermione. Has she really alienated all her roommates this much?

No wonder she spends all her time with Ron and Harry.

“You’re doing Divination? I read the textbook already. It seems very woolly,” Hermione said shortly.

Lavender frowns. “No offense, Hermione, but don’t you think you should actually go to the class before you decide that?”

“Muggles have tarot cards too!” Hermione says defensively. “And astrology, and crystal balls, all that sort of thing. It’s just a bunch of con artists telling you what you want to hear. No one can see the future.”

“Maybe you’ll change your mind,” Parvati says, already looking away.

Hermione crosses her arms. “Harry, come sit with us?”

Harry sighs, says goodbye to Lavender and Parvati, and follows Hermione over to where Ron’s waiting. “Look, guys, I’m tired, I’m probably going to go to bed,” he says before either of them can talk.

“But your homework!” Hermione protests.

“I’ve done it already, Hermione.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me, mate?” Ron says. “I’ve still got all of Snape’s bloody essay!”

“Language, Ronald, and are you sure it’s done right, Harry? Maybe you should let me read it over.”

Harry is getting a headache. “I’m sure, Hermione. It’s fine.”

“No, let me,” she insists, reaching for his backpack strap. “Is it in here? You know you need corrections—”

“I said it’s fine, Hermione!” Harry snaps, jerking away from her.

Eyes flick their direction and he forces himself to calm down. “I’m going to bed,” Harry says shortly.

It’s a relief to get up to the round tower room with its five red-curtained beds. Harry immediately levitates his trunk up into his bed, climbs inside, and tugs the curtains shut.

He doesn’t know a lock spell yet and he’s definitely not good enough with runes to make a ward. Maybe the hardening charm? It’s a third-year spell. Harry cast it a few times on small things in his room. The trick will be making sure he gets all of his curtains.

It takes three tries to turn them all to stone. The bed frame makes an angry creaking noise and Harry hurriedly casts “Faciforte!” on it to strengthen it. He holds his breath for a few seconds, but everything seems to be well, so he opens his trunk.

Bear immediately jumps up and puts his paws on the ladder. Harry climbs down, knots one of his old too-small robes around Bear, and levitates the robe up and out of the trunk, since wingardium leviosa doesn’t work on living things. Then he grabs leftover toad-in-the-hole from his cold cupboard, mutters “Alaezo” to warm it up, and levitates the plate out ahead of him.

Bear’s curled up at the foot of the bed, waiting. Harry sets the plate down.

No longer half-starved, Bear has quit eating with frantic abandon, and manages to scarf the whole plate down without spilling a drop. Harry puts the plate away and grabs Guarding the Mind off of his bookshelves. With a sigh, he realizes he’ll have to either un-harden his curtains and redo the spell if he wants to put his trunk back.

Or he could just shrink it for the night.

Better idea.

With the trunk in its compact form, there’s just enough room for Harry and Bear to share the bed. “In the morning, I’ll take you to Hagrid,” Harry assures Bear, “and he can look after you and make sure you’re fed.”

Bear whines sadly, and Harry rubs his ears. “I know, buddy, but it’s not fair to keep you locked up in here all year, is it? You’ll be outside, you’ll get food… Hagrid’s really nice, he’ll probably let you sleep in his cabin this winter if you’re cold. And I’ll come see you every day before dinner.”

This gets Bear to perk up his ears and wag his tail, so Harry gives him one last belly rub and settles in to work on his meditation.

Previous Next