Facing Truths

Minerva was handing them their timetables and asking the question everyone wanted answered, "Mr Potter, you seem particularly well informed for someone so young and with so little contact with our world?"

Hermione smiled and stood beside her husband, "As an educator you must know that it's the quality of knowledge that's more important than the quantity. We had a very interesting visit from someone who is writing a book on the headmaster. They shared their research in exchange for Harry telling his story and allowing it to be used. He made sure to tell them to leave room to cover the court case when Harry and Sirius press charges over mistreatment, mismanagement or sheer incompetence of his actions. Did you know his nose is that shape because his brother broke it at their sister's funeral?"

Minerva was as shocked as the rest of the hall at this morning's revelations, any book that aired Dumbledore's dirty laundry and had an interview with Harry Potter was destined to be an instant best seller. The witch didn't have the same-sex prejudices that some people possessed, she just didn't need the image of Albus and Severus together in her mind when she'd just eaten breakfast. She knew Albus had a brother and was aware there was bad blood between them, Minerva had no idea it had lasted as long or that it ran so deep. A book and a court case could ruin the headmaster, strangely enough that idea did not cause her as much pain as it would have done even a month ago.

As the Potters sat back down and Neville began introducing them to their Gryffindor year mates, Minerva noticed Albus leaving the staff table. He'd waited years on Harry coming to Hogwarts, only to find that he was nothing like Albus, or any of them had imagined. She suspected his next move would be to cast aspersions that the boy was turning dark, Minerva had seen his new family and would violently refute those suggestions. Just because the boy wasn't willing to be the headmaster's puppet didn't mean he was turning dark, this couple had minds of their own and Minerva couldn't wait to get them into her class, she was so looking forward to teaching them.

Ron sat at the end of the Slytherin table, paying no attention to the gap that appeared between him and his fellow housemates. He was too busy concentrating on trying to cram in another breakfast before his first Hogwarts lesson, the fact he had no idea what or where that lesson was had no chance of permeating his brain while there was still food on the table.

....

Harry and Hermione had a brilliant day and all the first year Gryffindors were invited back to their quarters for a look-see after dinner. Hermione was a lot more relaxed this time around without the burning need to prove herself that had alienated the young girl from her peers in the first place. As a married girl, especially with Harry as her husband, Parvati and Lavender thought she was the coolest witch in the school.

Harry fond himself getting along better with Dean and Seamus this time around as well as a more confident Neville. Since there was no competition with Ron determined to claim Harry Potter exclusively as his best mate, there was a much more relaxed and comfortable atmosphere between the first year Gryffindors.

They had breezed through their classes, helping their fellow Gryffindors and amassing a bucket load of house points along the way. Harry felt no sense of guilt or that they were cheating, Hermione had known all the answers the first time around. The difference now being that she wasn't almost dislocating her shoulder by franticly shooting her hand in the air every few minutes, while determined to impress the professors with her knowledge.

The potters had certainly made an impact on Hogwarts.

Albus was drinking his cocoa while trying to figure out his next move, he'd spent ages on his knees with his head in the floo, calling in favour after favour in an attempt to discover this mysterious author's identity. Any book mentioning Ariana, Abe and Gellert would have to be suppressed for the greater good, painting him in a bad light at this particular time would be very bad for the wizarding world.

His biggest problem though was that the Potters had not only read the material but apparently believed it to be true, the fact that it was true mattered not a jot in Dumbledore's grand scheme. What was really important was getting the Potter lad into his sphere of influence, that Harry seemed hell bent on destroying any influence Albus had just added a degree of difficulty to the task.

Ron Weasley was currently taking an eyeball from one jar, polishing it by hand before replacing it into another jar. It was a dirty, mind-numbingly repetitive task that provided plenty of time to ponder on the root of all his troubles, the Potters.

He'd tried late last night to see if the offer of staying with loony was open to him as well, his father had killed that idea stone dead. If Ron wanted to be home schooled then his Auntie Muriel was his only other option. After spending a short time there he was more convinced than ever that anything had to be better than that.

He'd watched with envy as the Gryffindor students had all obviously enjoyed their classes and sat together for their meals, Ron was being treated like a pariah in Slytherin with not one person speaking to him the entire day.

His jealousy grew when he watched all the Gryffindors leaving together while he headed off to detention. As Neville jokingly hit Harry on the arm, one thought kept repeating in Ron's mind, 'that should have been me!'

Percy Weasley was also consumed with jealousy, sitting in the common room while Oliver Wood headed out to perform his prefect rounds with Penelope Clearwater left the boy seething with rage. The twin badges of Quidditch Captain and Prefect on Oliver's robes almost made Percy physically sick with envy. He also knew exactly who to blame for him currently being badgeless, the Potters.

His father had told him to let this be but that was not going to happen, Percy's honor demanded revenge and that's exactly what it would have. He had trouble planning it at the moment though as his imagination just kept flashing up images of Oliver and Penelope holding hands by the end of their rounds. One phrase kept repeating itself over and over in his mind, 'that should have been me!"

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