9

Chapter 9: The Ministry Mess

Harry was sitting in the kitchen of the Burrow, nursing a cup of tea that had already gone cold. His nerves were acting up as he thought of his hearing that would take place in a few short only thing that somewhat calmed him was the huge treacle tart that Mrs. Weasley had baked.

The atmosphere in the Burrow; always cheerful, energetic and homely, was now rather tense. And as loathe as Harry was to admit it, it was his fault. Some of the Weasleys couldn't make up their mind in how they viewed him after he had killed two men, murdering psychopaths or not, and he didn't quite know how to deal with it. To add to his confusion, the date of the Ministry hearing was quickly approaching, and they were feeling very defensive for him.

Fortunately, not everybody in that house was wary of him.

Fifteen minutes after they returned to the Burrow, Hermione and Ron confronted him. After a heated discussion, in which Harry told them in explicit detail how he murdered two human beings, both of them grew silent. Hermione looked at him with horror and pity, while Ron had an alarmingly thoughtful expression on his face. After a pause, Hermione's eyes grew determined and she shook her head vehemently.

"Harry, you and Ron are my first friends. In three years, I have bemoaned your recklessness, your passiveness and the laziness that you adopted from Ron..." the mentioned ginger threw a dirty look at her. "This laziness is what I hate about him. That and his unwillingness to really think anywhere aside from the chessboard."

"I resent that."

"But," Hermione continued, throwing an 'Oh, really?' look at Ron. "I have always admired you two for your personalities, as well. The unwavering bravery, the compassion, Ron's occasionally wise simplicity – he's much like Hagrid in that regard. You don't let me drown in books, and for that I am always thankful."

Harry glanced at Ron, whose ears were now tinged pink. That was very insightful.

"Apart from the times when it drives me mad, of course," she added, making Ron mutter something, still embarrassed. "The thing that I like about you the most, Harry, is your nobility."

The boy blinked at that.

"You don't even try to be noble. It comes to you as naturally as breathing. Your internal moral compass has not once steered you wrong. And trust me – I know you. Maybe better than you know yourself."

Unlikely.

"So I think I can say that the person sitting in front of me would never murder another person in cold blood."

Ouch.

"But then again, if he somehow did that, it does not mean he is truly at fault. He reacted. He wasn't thinking clearly. He was drunk, and he didn't even intend it to happen," Hermione stood up and started to pace. "Regardless, it wouldn't make me reject him, because I know: if that person wouldn't do what he did, he wouldn't be sitting in front of me."

Harry looked in her eyes and suddenly saw that they were brimming with tears.

"Do you know how worried I was? Knowing that you were out there, somewhere, with those... monsters on the loose?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling. Harry shook his head numbly. She closed her eyes and shuddered. Harry threw a questioning look at Ron and he promptly explained:

"When we were running to hide it the forest, we saw them toying with the muggles when the Aurors arrived. They... they killed that family, Harry. The guy who watched the camp … his wife, his children... Just because they were in the way."

Suddenly, the weight of guilt on Harry's shoulders became considerably lighter.

"Don't feel guilty that you killed one of them while defending yourself, Harry."

Harry smiled slightly at her declaration, and then turned to his male friend.

"Ron? What do you think?"

Ron stopped glaring at nothing and shrugged.

"I'm with you, mate. You know that."

After that talk Harry's spirits were somewhat lifted. He still felt extremely uneasy in the house, but it was nice to know he had friends to turn to.

Mr and Mrs Weasley were probably the worst of all. Mostly because they didn't feel that it was right for a child to have blood on his hands – even if he was in the right. Also, Harry thought they were having a hard time processing that the boy they accepted as family was now a killer. They were distressed, and angry – but not at Harry, but at the situation that caused it. That made it both harder and easier for the boy.

Another person who had trouble taking it all in was Ginny. Her crush on Harry, it seemed, did not diminish with time, but from what he could tell this whole mess shattered her view of him as a hero, a Prince Charming on a white stallion. In a way, those events forced her to mature and grow up beyond the childish fantasies. However, Harry found that her new habit of silently watching him, as if she wanted to figure him out, much creepier than her previous "elbow in the butter dish" shyness.

The twins, on the other hand, were much more covert in their observations. He caught them only once, and they turned it all in a joke as usual. Nevertheless, their usual levity was noticeably diminished in his presence – something that he found he did not like at all.

Percy, of course, remained just as aloof as usual, not changing his attitude from constant faint disapproval. Harry just went back to the old habit of ignoring the pompous arse.

Harry persevered.

And finally, the day of reckoning had come.

Harry entered the Ministry of Magic through the entrance for visitors with Mr. Weasley escorting him. The bored wizard at the post "weighed" his wand (or did something else that looked like he weighed it) and they proceeded to the Main Hall of the Ministry. Harry glanced around at the constant flow of people going to and coming from the fireplaces in the walls and with a touch of bitterness noted that nobody he could see stumbled when exiting the Floo and neither did anyone show any sign of queasiness. Well, it is official – the Floo hates me. Or, perhaps, there's a trick to it I'm not aware of.

Harry looked at a huge golden statue of a wizard and a witch in the midst of various magical creatures and snorted.

"Who in blazes designed this atrocity?" he asked Mr. Weasley. The man shrugged, his gaze lingering at the fountain.

"It has been here for a decade already. I believe that it was Fudge's suggestion, back when he was a Junior Minister working in Magical Disasters. Bagnold thought it a brilliant idea and there you have it," he waved at the instalment. Harry grimaced.

"The sheer pretentiousness of the thing… no goblin would ever have that expression on his face," he nodded at the statue of the goblin that looked at the wizard in adoration. "And neither would a centaur, come to think of it."

They stepped inside a lift together with five random workers, three of whom greeted Mr. Weasley. In a couple of minutes they were walking down a long corridor that reminded Harry vividly of the dungeons back at Hogwarts. The maze of corridors was certainly the same, as was the stink of still air. With each step that Harry took the squirming ball that he felt inside his stomach was growing more and more.

After a couple of minutes of stumbling around the dungeon-like labyrinth they finally found the needed room.

"Room 23: Go on in, I'll wait for you out here," at Harry's questioning look Mr Weasley explained. "I'm not a direct employee of the Law Enforcement, a witness or a relative of one, or a member of Wizengamot, so I'm not permitted to enter," Harry nodded in understanding. "Good luck, Harry."

"Thanks. I'll need it."

Harry swallowed noisily, composed himself with what basic Occlumency that he knew and entered the hall. It was already half-full despite the fact that the hearing was scheduled to start twenty minutes later. He looked around.

The room was spacious, with many rows forming a half-circle opposite a lone stone chair – obviously meant for the one under trial. People in expensive-looking robes were standing around and talking quietly to each other. Many of them obviously used silencing spells. Harry let his eyes wander in the hope that they will pick out a certain person with the most outlandishly coloured clothes, which would be Dumbledore, who could point to him what exactly he was supposed to do here.

Unfortunately for him, the first person to catch his eye was a… woman… female... something who was clothed in pink. What's more, it was the most unholy shade of pink to ever exist outside of an LSD trip of a crazy, lesbian, feminist post-modernist artist after an all-night bender immediately followed by a fundamental arse-kicking.

To add to the pain his brain was going through, the creature in pink vaguely reminded him of a toad.

He wanted to kill that abomination with fire for existing in spite of the notions of the beauty and colour perception.

After Harry managed to tear his eyes from the woman, seeing the robes of Albus Dumbledore was a relief. Well, bottle-green and red really is a rather calming combination…

"Professor Dumbledore, good morning!" he greeted the old professor enthusiastically. The Chief Warlock nodded.

"Harry. How are you, my boy?"

Harry shrugged.

"As well as I could be, I suppose. The nerves are getting to me. And there is, of course, the little incident that is the reason for this," Harry waved his hand around, gesturing at everything in the room.

The headmaster's eyes' twinkle dimmed a bit.

"Yes, to kill another sentient being is to stain your soul. No one recovers from this easily."

Harry shivered and stepped a bit closer, lowering his voice.

"That is what I'm concerned with, sir," the old wizard nodded in understanding, but stopped short when he continued. "I think I shouldn't feel remorse. They were sadistic bastards who surely were enjoying murdering innocent bystanders back in the day. They were basically dogs that had to be put down. My mind keeps telling me this, but I... I mean, I know I should not be flippant and uncaring about taking two lives, Death Eaters or not, but…There's also the fact that I didn't intend for that to happen – I mean, I used first year spells!" Harry quieted, lost in his quiet outburst. Professor Dumbledore looked at him sadly, stroking his beard.

"When our hearts refuse to give council, we turn for guidance to our minds. In our lives, there always comes the time when we have to choose between what is easy and what is right. Our willingness to do the latter is what defines our character."

He paused. Harry stared at him in puzzlement.

"But sir, what if I can't understand what would be the right choice?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"These are the hardest decisions you will face. I wish you never came upon such a quandary, but alas, they appear in our way much more often than I would like."

A philosophical debate, why not? It will distract me from being on edge because of the hearing.

"The world is not black and white. I feel guilty over having killed someone, and I probably shouldn't have done that, but if I didn't, I almost certainly would be dead now. On the other hand, if they were left alive, how many people would they kill? How many deaths would be indirectly on my hands then?"

The headmaster nodded again.

"All good points: In my long life, I have asked myself the same questions many times over and over again. And I have come to some truly sound arguments both for and against taking lives on the battlefield or otherwise that I will be glad to relate to you on a later date," Then, he gestured to the giant clock on the furthest wall. "Alas, the hearing is about to start, so we'd better start. Your seat is over there, with other witnesses. Be calm, answer truthfully, and everything will be well. Good luck, Harry."

The boy nodded and hurried to take his place on the bottom row.

The hearing itself was the finest example of bureaucracy, with endless questioning of the protocol, protests, and searching for precedents in the archives. And that was even before they started to question the witnesses. Harry watched the proceedings with a careful eye, fighting the urge to sleep. Through it all, Lucius Malfoy was mostly silent, trusting his minions to do his work in muddying the waters.

Finally, the Minister, who was de-facto the one in charge of the hearing together with Dumbledore, (though Harry couldn't fathom why exactly it was his responsibility), called for the first witness. It was the guy who first noticed something amiss and called for the Aurors. In the first minute of questioning it became known that the man was a werewolf. This piece of news caused the toad-woman (who evidently was someone important) to start dropping insinuations that it was actually the poor werewolf that was responsible for the events of that night, periodically throwing thinly-veiled insults. The word "half-breed" was used a number of times. So, not only is she the epitome of ugliness, she's also a major bitch and a bigot. Magnificent.

After that came the Auror who was one of the team who fought the main crowd of the Death Eaters. He said that the perpetrators retreated as soon as it became obvious that they were being actually fought, not taking any chances. Grudgingly he admitted that tactically they were right, as the Auror reinforcements were soon to arrive, and after that the Death Eaters would be simply outnumbered. There were no further questions for the man.

"Harry Potter."

A murmur rose as he walked to the stone seat and sat down, trying to relax with relative (nearly non-existent) success.

"Harry James Potter, born 31 July, 1980, no criminal records … living at #4, Privet Drive, Surrey … correct?" the scribe asked.

"Correct."

"Mr. Potter, what were you doing when the attack began?"

"Snogging," he said, completely deadpan. Murmuring and chuckling rose in the hall, lightening the atmosphere somewhat. Fudge grinned slightly.

"Continue."

"I heard shouts and explosions, which told me that something is wrong. I told my… ahem… friend to take whatever she needed and that we should leave the area. She asked to wait for a few minutes and went inside her tent."

The woman who had interrogated Harry at the time of the incident cut in at that point.

"The girl in question, Ms. Voron, was a foreigner and didn't know anything relevant about the attack."

"Thank you, Madam Bones. Mr. Potter, continue."

"I was waiting outside the tent, when a number of people ran near me towards the forest. Soon after that, I was attacked by two men in black garb wearing skull masks."

"For the record: how were you attacked?" Fudge asked, frowning nervously.

"A cutting curse from my right side. I managed to evade it and threw a basic fire spell in retaliation, which was deflected by one of them but hit the other, burning him. He fell, from what I believed to be shock from acute pain."

"Not from shock," Madam Bones interjected once more. "Mister Avery's brain was boiled in his skull,"

Harry visibly cringed at that statement. "I didn't need to know that. Thank you so very much," Harry muttered, though judging from the reactions of the people around, they all heard it. First Quirrell, now this Avery – what is it with me and burning people to death?! Granted, Quirrel was finished by Voldemort abandoning ship, but still.

"What happened next?" the scribe said after a few moments once the court had calmed down.

Harry began answering slowly. "For the next couple of minutes I was jumping around dodging spells from the other guy. I knew I was as good as dead if I didn't do something drastic, so I blew up a chunk of earth between us, distracting him and obscuring his view. After doing so, I immediately ran and hid behind the tents. After about five minutes I came out on the other side and brained him with a stick I found on the ground nearby."

"Why did you not run away?" Fudge asked. Harry stared at him in bewilderment.

"Run away? Run away? Who do you take me for, exactly? I couldn't just leave my... friend there alone with that bastard!"

Fudge mumbled something unintelligible.

"Why did you not use magic to stun him? Why use a stick?" Madam Bones asked curiously.

"I thought that he would react to a spoken incantation with a shield or dodge my spell, which would waste all my advantage. So I had to resort to clocking him from behind with something blunt but heavy."

"Very well, your reasoning is sound. Go on."

"I sneaked over to him without him hearing me, but when I hit him in the head, it proved insufficient. He turned to me and started to say the words of the Killing Curse. I reacted and fired a Cutting Curse at him."

"The Cutting Curse split Mr. Maul in half," Madam Bones noted, "which points out that it was overpowered because of an adrenaline rush."

"That's what I thought."

"What happened next, Mr. Potter?"

"I stunned the first guy. Then I remembered that Adel was still in the tent and entered it. She was asleep on the sofa. I sat nearby, intending to stay guard, but quickly succumbed to sleep. Next thing I know, one of your Aurors is shouting outside."

"Very well. Any further questions for Mr. Potter?"

"Hem-hem," the abomination in pink coughed, "I believe that Mr. Potter should be charged with two counts of murder."

Harry froze. That was exactly what he was afraid of. Fortunately for him, Madam Bones immediately intervened at his behalf.

"As it was clearly self-defence, no charges will be made, Madam Umbridge."

Damn, I like that woman. I wonder if she is related to Susan Bones ... Most likely. I should be nicer to Susan this year – she did glare at me constantly during the Heir of Slytherin mess, but by this summer she grew a rack. Harry grinned slightly to himself. Yep, definitely going to be nicer to Susan.

Meanwhile, the toad-woman didn't stop.

"Their... unfortunate choice of activities aside, Mr. Maul and Lord Avery used to be upstanding members of our community, and their deaths..."

"Ex-cuse me!" Harry boggled at her, his temper rising. "I believe that their 'upstandingness'doesn't count if you take in account the little fact that they were friggin' Death Eaters who fully intended to kill me!"

Umbridge grew a bit red, though her sugary smile remained just as wide.

"Mr. Potter, tell me if I get this right. You killed two people in cold blood and you say that you do not regret it?"

Harry glared at her.

"They were murderous bastards. Furthermore, they were pureblood bigots, therefore they were hopeless idiots," Harry paused, somewhat enjoying the rising mutterings. "I find myself facing a moral dilemma. Killing people is against my principles. But killing idiots is a favour to the universe."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. The court has no further questions for you," Madam Bones said hastily.

Harry sighed and rose from the stone chair. After sitting at his place amongst the other witnesses, he started rubbing circles on his forehead.

Damn, I need to get a hang on my temper. I nearly dug my own grave over there. And if Madam Bones didn't intervene, I would definitely have said something extremely stupid. Harry glanced at the Head of the DMLE. She met his eyes after a few seconds, and he nodded gratefully. Her expression softened a bit, and she inclined her head briefly.

After that, it was another hour of bureaucracy at its finest, boring as hell. Harry, relieved that he wouldn't be prosecuted for his actions, allowed himself to succumb to sleep. Next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by an amused professor Dumbledore.

"Harry, the hearing is over. I believe that you would rest better on a normal bed – these benches are rather unpleasant to sleep on. So, if you will permit me, shall I escort you to The Burrow?"

"You can say that again, sir," Harry grumbled, getting up and massaging his neck. The headmaster chuckled.

"Yes, I remember that I used to sleep through meetings most of the time when I was young. To alleviate some of my discomfort, I remember conjuring pillows – not that it did me much good. Then the Wizengamot chose me to be made the Chief Warlock, denying me that little bit of comfort that sleep afforded me. Now, I sleep with my eyes open most of the time."

They walked to the exit of the chamber. Harry grinned.

"Is it difficult to learn, sir?"

"It comes to you naturally." The headmaster replied lightly. "Alas, in my age, I have trouble falling asleep even during the budget meetings, and those are capable of making even professor Binns count sheep."

"Professor, may I ask you a question?"

"As I have said once before," Professor Dumbledore replied with a smile, "You already have. But you may, however, ask me one more."

"Why is professor Binns still teaching? He is... not a very good professor, to put it lightly."

Dumbledore sighed.

"This question is asked very often. There are two reasons for that, Harry. First, Cuthbert has always been a genius when it comes to history. He is practically living history himself! His passion for it is undeniable. Yes," Dumbledore nodded seriously at the sceptical look Harry threw him. "Passion... Unfortunately, as it often happens with geniuses, he heavily dislikes teaching the basics. And everything that is not Mastery level to him is basic. Now, imagine repeating something that is extremely boring to you for a couple of centuries non-stop."

"Ah. So he's bored himself."

"Indeed."

"That explains it. You mentioned a second reason, sir."

"Yes. The second reason, Harry, is much more prosaic in nature. Money."

The boy looked at him blankly for a couple of seconds, and then snapped his fingers in a flash of understanding.

"Ah, you don't pay a wage to a ghost!"

"Yes. As I said; a much more prosaic reason. For many years Minerva has been waging war with the Board of Governors for the better financing, and she has not made any significant progress as of yet."

For a couple of minutes they walked in silence. Finally, reaching the main hall, they walked to the closest Floo and with two 'whoosh' sounds left for the Burrow.

Immediately after stumbling out of the fireplace, Harry was immediately accosted by Hermione and Ron, who directed anxious and questioning looks at him. When he tiredly smiled and nodded at them, Hermione shouted "Yes!" and tackled him with a hug, which nearly caused him to topple over. Ron grinned and thumped him in the shoulder while Dumbledore stood slightly aside and twinkled merrily at the scene.

Not ten seconds later, when Hermione barely started asking questions, Mrs. Weasley entered the room, wiping her hands with a towel.

"You've returned! Oh, good evening, Albus! I assume everything went all right?"

"Good evening, Molly. And yes, you assume correctly. All possible charges to Harry were dropped before they could even be stated."

"That is wonderful news! I have almost finished making dinner. Will you stay, Albus?"

The old headmaster smiled thoughtfully.

"Well, I have a lot of paperwork to do tonight..."

"Please stay, professor. Paperwork certainly won't escape your office if you allow yourself to stay for one meal," Harry joked. Dumbledore laughed at that.

"Oh, very well. If I have insomnia, I may very well take advantage of that. And by the way, you would be surprised to hear that about a decade ago my budget orders and admission notes did exactly that, after deciding to take the newest timetables with them as company."

"How?" the boy's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Well, later on, I found out that a student was trying to learn the Summoning charm without saying the incantation and focused on a slightly vague mental picture of what he wanted. Unfortunately, the boy overpowered the spell in his concentration and soon the door and windows in his dorm were barricaded with parchment," the old professor explained cheerfully, sitting down on the closest chair and eyeing the food-laden dishes in front of him with appreciation.

Hermione giggled nervously at that.

Dinner passed by with a relaxed air, seeing as the tension that accumulated for the last week – ever since the Cup – left as if it never existed. No one was looking at Harry with wariness or pity. Instead, Mrs. Weasley kept putting more food on his and professor Dumbledore's plates, evidently aiming to turn them into immovable blobs by overfeeding them, Mr. Weasley was keeping a rather upbeat conversation with Percy regarding the latter's career and Ron was, for once, minding his manners and keeping silent as he tore into his portion with gusto. The twins were whispering something amongst each other, and Hermione was trying to listen in – with not much luck so far.

As for Harry … well, he had a topic to discuss with the headmaster.

"Professor? Will we have dementors in school this year?"

The old wizard hummed and swallowed a piece of honey pie before answering:

"Fortunately, no, I persuaded the Head of the Auror Office to send four Auror Trainees to serve as guards. In addition, I have called an old friend of mine to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Friend?" Harry prompted, knowing the quirky headmaster enough to guess that he was waiting for him to ask.

"Alastor Moody, the best Auror in many, many decades. He is now retired and only occasionally serves as a consultant in the Auror Office. I expect that he will be of great help to the students, seeing as the teachers we had in the past five years have been... less than satisfying."

Harry nodded and shared a look with Hermione, who gave up trying to discern if the twins were planning mischief and instead started listening to his conversation with Dumbledore.

"Good. We got lucky with professor Lupin, and we would like to have a good teacher again. I hope this is a start of a new better trend," Harry grew silent for a moment, and then finally asked: "Sir, did you ask Mr. Moody to help guard the castle?"

"I did, in fact. Moody taught Black for a while and knows how he thinks. He has more of a chance to catch him than anyone else."

Harry nodded again, smiling grimly.

Wherever you are, Black, I hope you're enjoying yourself. Your luck is not going to last for long.

Las Vegas

"All in!" Sirius crowed, pushing the chips in front of him to the centre of the table.

"You're bluffing. All in," his last opponent grinned, doing the same. Then he threw his cards on the table with a flourish. "Full house! Take that, loser!"

Sirius snorted and turned the cards he had on the table face up.

"Royal Flush, kid, you're out."

Inwardly, he was shaking with laughter at how so damn easy it was to win from Muggles. Some rudimentary Legilimency and Occlumency was enough to secure a win. So far, he hasn't hadn't lost once, and his brand new bank account was growing swiftly. A couple of casinos had already banned him and sent his photo to the rest, but a few glamour charms took care of that particular little problem.

Yes, Sirius decided, I have had quite a lot of luck so far. Still, it's not going to last for long. He grinned and took his winnings, eyeing the strippers on the other side of the casino hall. But boy am I going to enjoy myself!

Kings Cross station, 1st September

"I wonder if they have ever got here in time," Harry told Hermione. They both were running beside the Weasleys, who – as always – were late for the Hogwarts Express.

"Not since the twins went to Hogwarts, we haven't," Ron grunted, his face slightly red from the exertion already. "They always turn the departure into a spectacle."

"True," Harry smiled slightly. The whole morning could be described with one word: chaos. The departure for Hogwarts would be a rather disorganized and noisy endeavour regardless, but the twins just had to add that spark that ignited the figurative forest fire.

The end result was two hours of everybody shouting, running, loudly opening and closing doors, peppered by an occasional explosion. In the middle of it all, the twins never stopped grinning.

"All... right," Mrs. Weasley huffed, waving at the column that contained the doorway to the 9¾ Platform. "Fred, George, you're first. Ron, Harry, you're next. Hermione, Ginny and I will come last."

The twins winked at them and walked over to the barrier nonchalantly. Then, in the blink of an eye, they vanished in the stone surface.

"Let's move," Harry muttered and picked up his trunk and Hedwig's cage. Ron followed him as they walked over the portal at a brisk pace.

Five seconds later, they were at the platform. As they thought, the train was set to leave in a minute. The boys ran towards it, quickly throwing their trunks inside and turning around to do the same with the possessions of the caught-up girls. Then they followed their trunks' example and embarked on the train themselves, pausing in the doors to give a wave to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

The quartet set out to the last carriage, as was their custom.

"This one's empty. Come on."

With a grunt Harry crashed on the left seat by the window. Hermione sat on his right with much more elegance, while Ron followed Harry's example with the other seat. Ginny shrugged and sat near her brother.

"Well, what do you think our new Defence professor will be like?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged.

"From what Dumbledore said, this Moody person sounds competent enough," Harry noticed an expression of disbelief on his friend's face. "What?"

"Did you say 'Moody'?"

"Yes," Harry lifted a brow.

"As in the Mad-Eye Moody, the legendary Auror?"

"Yes."

"Wow. Dad told us about him a couple of times. Said that the man was absolutely priceless in the war and in the cleaning up that came afterwards. He filled half of Azkaban by himself."

"Really?" Harry was really looking forward to the lessons. "Must have made some enemies."

"Yeah. Dad also mentioned that Moody was extremely paranoid. I guess that a lifetime of catching bad wizards will do that for ya."

Harry nodded thoughtfully as Ron scrunched his brow.

"What did Dumbledore say, exactly?"

Hermione looked at him in bewilderment as if their ginger friend just told her that he had gone to the moon and eaten the cheese it's made of, creating the Russell crater.

"Ron, he told us all when he stayed over for dinner. Are you telling me you didn't hear it?"

The boy shrugged sheepishly in answer.

"Well, you always told me not to speak while I'm eating, so now I'm always tuning out the conversation around the table. Remove the temptation, you know?"

Harry caught a look of surprise that Ginny sent to her brother. Hermione stared at him for a long moment, and then shook her head.

"I don't know if I should be pleased that you have elected to follow my advice, for once, or irritated that you've chosen such a radical way," she pinched the bridge of her nose and smiled. "Well, I guess it works, so carry on. We'll just have to clue you in anything important that you might miss."

Harry directed a faux amazed look at his friend.

"Ron, you made Hermione pleased with you!"

The ginger grinned, catching on immediately.

"Somebody, check the temperature in hell! It must be chilly there!"

Hermione hid her head in her hands with a dismayed groan.

"You're impossible. As soon as I think you are making progress, you are immediately sliding back! You can be such... children sometimes!"

"Baby steps, Hermione," Harry joked with a smile and a light shove. "And you love us for it, you admitted it yourself."

"That I did," the girl reluctantly admitted.

"Speaking of childishness, who's up for a game of Exploding Snap?" Ginny asked her head inclined to the side, making her resemble a flaming red puppy. Ron readily jumped onto the suggestion and Harry followed suit with a careless shrug. Hermione politely declined, taking a book out of her bag, but she nevertheless sometimes lifted her eyes to check how they were doing.

After Ron's second defeat, when Harry was gleefully making quips at his friend's expense (he possibly enjoyed the fact that he won too much, but after his constant humiliation at chess, he couldn't resist) the door of their cabin was opened.

"...nope, here I'm the king, Ron," Harry finished, and without bothering to turn to the left to see who had come, raised his voice: "Piss off, Malfoy."

"Are you talking to Malfoy's Doppelmuncher?"

The boy blinked and looked at the new arrival.

"Oh, hello, Luna. No, I am not. You see, dearest Drakey-poo," Ron choked in laughter at the nickname that they once overheard Pansy Parkinson use last year, "has taken it as his sacred duty to grace us with his exalted presence each time we are on the Hogwarts Express. So, I made a logical leap and deduced it was him that the wind carried to our little remote cabin in the wilderness of the last carriage. Fortunately, it seems that Lady Karma has decided to throw me a boon and instead of my least favourite blonde I get my most favourite blonde as a companion on the long road to the castle. Will you sit with us?"

Hermione was staring at him. Yes, she saw him acting like that the last time they were in the train, when Luna also was with them, but still she couldn't understand what made her friend so verbose in the girl's presence.

If asked, Harry wouldn't be able to answer that question himself. But there was something about the waif of a girl that made him much more relaxed than he was normally. And relaxed Harry came in two variants: thinking-deep-thoughts-and-contemplating-the-matters-of-universe or the Amazing Talking Harry. Right now, it was the latter that made an appearance.

"Sure," Luna smiled and sat near Ginny, who immediately freed her some space.

"So, how was your summer?" Harry asked. Luna twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

"Pleasant. My father and I went to travel again."

"Oh? Where to?"

"Finland. There was a sighting of a Blaggarosh there. Father couldn't pass up such an opportunity," the girl explained, dropping her shoes, lifting her legs on the seat and hugging them. Harry caught an exasperated look from Hermione and rolled his eyes. After the last year's trip from Hogwarts to London Harry asked her to give Luna a chance and not to start arguing the existence of the many creatures Luna believed in.

"A sighting? Do tell," he asked, smiling mischievously. Something tells me that this is going to be good.

"A man was admitted into a mental hospital raving about Eldritch Abominations and tentacles. All signs of a Blaggarosh encounter," was the cheerful answer.

Harry blinked. Not what I expected. Then again, this is Luna. Unexpected is the name of the game.

The next half-an-hour or so were spent in a pleasant discussion. Even the mention of the events on the Quidditch Cup didn't mar Harry's mood. In fact, Luna managed to take his mind off the chaos that followed a very pleasant evening by mentioning that she had seen him with Adel in the post-match celebration. When Harry, completely dumbfounded, asked her how he hadn't seen her, she shrugged and told him she didn't expect him to notice anything apart from the foreign girl's tongue, which made him rather red in the face.

"Are you feverish, Harry?" she asked innocently. Hermione and Ron glanced at her in bewilderment and then turned to look at Harry, as if asking "Is she joking?" The boy directed a mock-bewildered stare at the blonde girl. He was starting to figure out when she was serious and when she simply used her seeming simplicity and innocence to take the mickey out of other people by asking embarrassing questions.

"No, I believe I am in good health."

"Strange. Do you know that Purple Puredonners can cause their host's skin to become red sometimes?" Oh, that innocent expression should be illegal. Well, if she has to joke in this manner...

"What would it mean if only the ears become red?" Harry asked in a worried tone. A corner of Luna's mouth twitched, but her voice remained calm.

"It means that it is the infested area. It can be fatal, you know. They can get to your brains if they nest in your ears."

"Do they eat brains?" Harry asked in a slightly trembling tone, looking at Ron with fear and violently suppressing his laughter.

"No, they don't. But they mark your brains with their droppings, and that usually influences your manners and the sense of tact," the girl answered serenely, completely dispelling any doubts in Harry's mind about her being serious. Judging by her expression, Hermione had also caught on and was biting her lips so as not to smile.

"Oh Merlin! Ron, we need to get you to Madam Pomfrey!" Harry grasped his friend's hands and started to shake them in faux panic. Ron boggled at him.

"Hey! Harry! Let me go!"

"No! I can't let the Purple Puredonners' excrement in your brains! No friend of mine will become a shithead!" Harry howled, deciding to seriously ham it up.

"Oy! Mate! Bugger off!" Ron tried to swat at him and this quickly grew into a little wrestling match, by the end of which both boys were sweating and grinning and girls were smiling at their antics.

The rest of the train ride went in the same light-hearted vein. Malfoy didn't show up, and seeing as he didn't visit them on the train ride to London last year, this could be a start of a new trend. Or the blond ponce had decided to just grow up a bit and not spoil the ride to all of them and himself as well.

In one group they disembarked the train, waving their hellos to Hagrid, who called the first-years to him. The answering (very enthusiastic) wave from their friendly neighbourhood half-giant knocked down two little firsties. Harry shook his head in exasperation at the loud apologies of his first friend.

The company managed to fit into one of the carriages, but only just. By next year, they would definitely have to use two. Harry blinked at the skeletal-looking horses that were driving the contraptions.

"What are these things?" he asked, sitting up on his seat. Hermione looked at him questioningly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Those horses. They are... weird. And I don't remember them being here last year. I wonder if they forgot to renew the animation charms on the carriages and had to use horses..." he paused and shook his head. "No, that doesn't make any sense."

"They are called thestrals. They were always here, you just couldn't see them," Luna interrupted while others looked at them both as if afraid for their sanity.

"Why?"

"They can only be seen by those who saw death," was the calm answer. Harry frowned and lowered his eyes.

"I see."

"There really are horses?" Ron lifted his eyebrow. At Harry's nod, he turned to Luna. "When did you see death, then?"

Immediately after voicing this question, the boy cringed and hastily added: "If you don't mind telling us, of course."

"It's all right. My mother died when I was eight. She was experimenting with spell creation," the girl's tone became even more serene. Ron rubbed his head and threw an awkward glance at her.

"I'm sorry for asking."

"It's fine."

The rest of the short trip went in silence. The tense atmosphere started to lighten with their approach to the castle. Harry smiled when after a turn of the road they came into view of Hogwarts The sight never ceased to amaze him and lift his spirits.

"Home," he murmured without realizing it.

They entered the castle, routinely dodging Peeves' greeting water balloons. After one of them clipped Harry in the shoulder, the boy swore at the sudden shock of icy water meeting his skin, took out his wand and dried himself.

"Next time, make sure the water's warm!" he shouted at the cackling poltergeist. "As in, the warm welcome!"

The little pest mock-saluted him and threw another balloon at the pair of Slytherin girls that just entered. One of them immediately shielded herself, making the projectile smash and burst on the transparent defence, but it didn't stop the water.

"And that is why you dodge," Harry muttered to Ron, who nodded with a slight grin. Together, they entered the Great Hall. After a quick goodbye, Luna went skipping to the Ravenclaw table, and the four Gryffindors sat at their table opposite the twins, who already were there.

"Finally," Ron grumbled, putting his head on his hands. "Wake me up when the food's here."

"Are you really going to sleep?" Harry asked half-seriously. Ron lifted his head just enough to stare at him with a bland expression.

"No. I'm entering a hunger coma," was the deadpan answer, after which the ginger dropped his head again. Harry snorted and turned towards Fred and George.

"You know, sometimes I worry about him."

"It happens, Harrikins," Fred nodded solemnly. "It will pass."

"Honestly, you four," Hermione huffed and turned to Ginny to engage in a conversation that, for once, will not deteriorate into endless jokes.

Ten minutes later, the procession of first-years entered the hall, looking ruffled, scared and so damn little. Harry sighed and told Hermione.

"To think that as long as we're still here, the first thought in our heads when we see the new students will always be 'was I that small?'"

She smiled and nodded. The sorting was starting, but Harry found himself otherwise occupied.

He surveyed the teacher's table with interest while distractedly clapping to a tall for his age boy joining Gryffindor. This year there were much more people there than usual. He looked at an incredibly intimidating fellow that sat near Flitwick. Damn, that is a lot of scars… The only person I remembered being as disfigured was the previous Care of Magical Creatures professor, don't remember his name. He must be that Moody person.

Slightly shivering at the sight of an undoubtedly artificial eye, he looked at the rest of the newcomers. They were all wearing red robes indicating their occupation as Aurors. Harry smiled – the lack of dementor presence plus Aurors being in the castle… it seemed that the Powers That Be in the Ministry decided to extract their heads from their arses and assign some proper guards to the school.

After the sorting was complete, Dumbledore rose from his place at the table.

"Welcome new students and old! There are a couple of announcements to be made," he said jovially. "But for now – tuck in!"

"Hear, hear," Ron muttered, lifting his forehead from the table as the food appeared. Harry snickered and proceeded to load his plate with pork chops.

"I must say, I am looking forward to the Defence classes this year," Hermione said, nodding at Moody, who was – almost demonstratively – drinking from a flask instead of the goblet in front of him. Harry nodded.

"Yep, me too. Though he is kind of creepy."

"That he is. I wonder what the deal is with his eye. I never thought there's such a thing as a magical prosthesis."

"Oh, there are. There are ugly as hell and from what we've heard, rather uncomfortable, but they are better than trying to walk around missing a part of your body," George supplied with a slight grin. Harry lifted his brows in sardonic amusement.

"You have researched prosthetics. Were you afraid that one of your experiments might go wrong?"

"Ah, Harrikins, don't be so naive. We were sure that every other experiment of ours will go wrong at some point or other."

"What is life without some risk?" Fred mused, a sage expression on his face. "And what is life of two young, handsome..."

"And brilliant!"

"...and brilliant inventors without some excitement?"

Harry slowly shook his head with a bemused frown on his face.

"You two are something else, you know that?"

"Why, Harry, I thought that you out of all people would agree."

The boy's frown shifted into a mischievous smile.

"Who said I don't?"

"You'd better eat instead of talking," Hermione advised, "the feast is going to end soon enough."

After ten minutes Dumbledore rose again, and the plates along with their contents vanished.

"Now, to business! First, our caretaker, Argus Filch, asked me for the umpteenth time to remind you that magic in corridors is against the rules. The newest version of the List of Restricted Items can be found near Mr. Filch's cabinet. Also, it is my painful duty to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is out of limits for the students. The various flora and fauna living there are rare and exciting, but, alas, somewhat lethal to an unprepared and inexperienced wizard," he waited out the muttering with a beaming smile, drastically conflicting with his words.

"Now, to more fresh news: This year, the duty of teaching the subject of Defence against the Dark Arts is going to be fulfilled by Alastor Moody. I'm sure you will make him feel welcome within our halls," Dumbledore said. Harry looked at the indicated one-and-a-half-eyed fellow bemusedly. Is it just me or does our esteemed Headmaster enjoy making somewhat ridiculous statements in order to make people doubt his sanity? If so, then his delivery is perfect.

"In addition to that, as you may have already noticed, Hogwarts is no longer guarded by dementors," he waited out the cheers. "Yes, your relief is understandable. However, Sirius Black is still out there, and the school needs protection. In light of this, let us greet the Aurors that will be stationed in our school for this school year," the people in red cloaks stood up to the applause.

"Is her hair... purple?" Hermione asked in bewilderment, nodding at the young woman in the middle of the Aurors.

"It is. I wonder why..." Harry shut up when the aforementioned hair turned green in a blink of an eye. He scratched the back of his head with a puzzled expression.

"This year is getting more interesting by the minute."