Chapter 31: Back to Hogwarts-1Notes:Hey, if you liked my work, follow the link to read ahead - https://www.instagram.com/bibliophile1722/
Chapter Text
Harry sat in the corner of the compartment, the steady rhythm of the train against the tracks a muted backdrop. In his hands, a 3rd year runes book. He had already read through the book twice, but his thoughts kept pulling him back to it.
The book was given to him by Hermione. But he was in his own thoughts. Basically, Harry, Hermione, and Luna had thought to travel together via floo to the station, but in the end, both sets of parents wanted some more time with their daughters before they left for the next 10 months for Hogwarts. Reasonable, but he was already missing their constant presence anyway, even though he knew that he would meet both of them on the train. Sirius had come to drop him off. Sirius had already given him the mirror to communicate with him, cause you can't be too cautious when Harry's owls would be monitored in the school by Dumbledore. Harry had bid Sirius goodbye with a hug and found this compartment after boarding the train and started reading the book, more likely just staring at it.
His chain of thoughts broke off when the compartment door slid open with a clatter.
Hermione stepped inside, a quick smile on her face that became a happier smile almost immediately when she saw what Harry was reading. Behind her trailed Ron, shoulders hunched and lips already pressed into a sour line.
Harry didn't move. He simply closed the book once and lowered it into his lap.
Hermione sat by the window, across from him. Ron dropped into the seat beside her, his scowl already firmly in place.
"Are you reading for the qualifying exam for 4th year runes, Harry?" Hermione asked, adjusting her bag and giving him a curious look.
"Yes," Harry said with a soft smile. He let the smile, stare linger longer on Hermione before adding, "This was from you. You gave me this earlier in the summer."
Ron's scowl deepened at those words. Hermione, not so oblivious to the flash of resentment across Ron's face, leaned forward slightly. "Can I quiz you already, then, Mr. Potter?"
Harry's tone was a teasing answer in a playful tone. "Of course, Miss Granger, I'd love to give the quiz to you. And I wouldn't mind some last-minute titbits or tricks which could help me remember these Runes."
Ron muttered under his breath, but just loud enough to carry. "Changing electives and studying with Hermione wasn't good enough before summer, now you need private lessons now too?"
The words landed like stones in the silence of the compartment. Hermione's head whipped toward Ron, eyes wide in shock. Harry lowered the letter slowly and fixed Ron with a glare.
"As a matter of fact," Harry said, his tone clipped, "I don't need private lessons. I need friends who don't sneer every time I try to do better. Or pull me down when I can actually be a better wizard."
The silence stretched uncomfortably. Hermione shifted in her seat, visibly searching for a way to steer the conversation away before it erupted.
"So," she began quickly, "I'm looking forward to classes this year. How about you two?"
Harry's expression softened just slightly as he turned to her. "I've been reading up on Arithmancy also. I want to get done with those exams as soon as I can."
Hermione blinked. Her smile, a delight. "You'll be fine, Harry, you've been studying the whole summer," Her voice rose before she could stop it, excitement written plain across her face.
Harry gave a small nod.
Before the conversation could shift, Ron leaned forward. "What's wrong with Divination, then? Not good enough for you anymore?"
Harry's jaw tightened. "No, Ron. I've decided I don't need to spend another year listening to my death being predicted every other week. I've had enough of that. And I believe we have had this conversation before as well, before the last year ended."
He stood up in one smooth motion, sliding the door open with a harsh scrape. "And I've had enough of this conversation now."
The door slammed shut behind him, hard enough that the glass rattled.
For a moment, the compartment was still.
In the back of his mind, the whisper stirred. You should have silenced him. Pain would have shut him up. I can help you with that.
Harry's hand curled into a fist as he walked down the corridor. Not yet. And not in front of Hermione. She doesn't need to see that. Not if I can help it.
The echo of footsteps hurried after him.
"Harry, wait!"
He turned. Hermione was jogging down the corridor, her bag bouncing against her side. She slowed when she caught up, breathing a little heavily.
"Are you alright?" she asked quickly, scanning his face.
Harry exhaled slowly, the tightness in his shoulders easing just slightly. "I'm fine. I'm sorry you had to sit through that."
Hermione shook her head. "You don't have to apologize. You didn't meet us at the station while boarding. The moment he saw me, Ron's been impossible. I believe he has been like that since last year ended and the World Cup finale aftermath, alongside the trial, made it worse."
"That bad?"
Her lips pressed together in frustration. "He was sulking. He was whining. If he's not doing that, he's cursing about some other thing. I thought it would pass, but clearly…"
Harry's expression darkened. "Clearly, whatever his problem is, he's not going to mention it. Fine. But I haven't forgotten the troll. He put us in danger then, and he's still dragging us down now. And he's a jealous prat who would do anything to come between us if it meant for him to put distance between you and me, and I won't let that happen. Not this time."
Hermione froze at the words, a flicker of shock on her face. She had never heard Harry speak so bluntly about Ron before. But she forced it down, meeting his eyes. "We should find another compartment. Somewhere quiet. This isn't the place for it."
Harry nodded once. And then pulled her closer by waist. Come, let's find Luna and Neville. We probably might also run into others from the future study group as well.
Chapter 32: Back to Hogwarts-2Notes:If you like my work, follow the link to read ahead and other works - https://www.instagram.com/bibliophile1722/
Chapter TextHarry and Hermione walked hand in hand down the corridor of the train, the noise of compartments filled with chatter spilling out as they passed. Hermione's satchel bag was slung over her shoulder, and Harry's hand was firmly clasped around hers. Neither of them spoke at first. The echoes of Ron's words were still hanging in the back of Harry's mind, but he kept his face set.
Hermione broke the silence first.
"Do you think he'll stew in there the entire journey?" she asked, glancing sideways at him.
Harry shrugged. "If he does, that's his choice. I'm not going to sit there and let him pick at me for every decision I make."
Hermione pressed her lips together and nodded. "You handled it better than I expected. Last year… you might've shouted back."
Harry gave her a dry half-smile. "Last year I didn't have much control. This year's different." He squeezed her hand gently. "And I'm not letting him get between us or any of our soulmates."
Hermione's eyes softened at that, but before she could reply, a burst of laughter carried out from a compartment just ahead. A familiar pair of identical voices rang out.
"Harry! Hermione!"
The door slid open, and Fred Weasley leaned halfway out, a wide grin on his face. Beside him, George appeared, holding a box of something that looked suspiciously like a prank item.
"Well, well, well," George said, eyes dropping immediately to Harry and Hermione's joined hands. "Look at this, Fred. Evidence of scandal before the term even begins."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you two."
Fred wagged his eyebrows. "Honestly? Honesty is for Hufflepuffs. We deal only in facts. And the fact is that we believe you've ditched our darling little brother and stolen his best mate."
Harry's expression flattened. "If you want to talk about Ron, then don't bother. I've heard enough from him already today."
The twins exchanged a quick glance. The grin didn't completely leave their faces, but it shifted, a touch more cautious.
"Blimey," George muttered, motioning them inside. "Better come in before you say something you can't take back in the middle of the corridor."
Hermione nodded and tugged Harry after her. They stepped into the compartment. Inside, Lee Jordan was stretched out across one of the benches, a box of Chocolate Frogs on his stomach. He sat up when he saw them.
"Harry! Hermione! Fresh gossip delivered to my lap?" he said with mock seriousness. "Please, don't stop on my account."
Harry sat down with Hermione beside him. He leaned back against the seat, jaw still tight.
Fred flopped down across from them, nudging George aside. "So," he started, his tone lighter, "what did Ronniekins manage this time? He was sulking all summer, but I thought once school started, he'd be back to normal."
"He's not sulking," Harry said flatly. "He's jealous and angry. Every time I try to do better, he takes it as me trying to leave him behind."
Hermione glanced down at her lap but didn't interrupt.
George let out a low whistle. "That explains his behaviour throughout the summer. "
Lee leaned forward, curious. "So what's the real story? You two walk in holding hands, Ron's scowling, and Harry looks like he'd rather hex someone than play Quidditch. Come on, spill."
Harry shot him a glare, but Fred raised his hands quickly.
"Oi, don't look at us like that. We're not on Ron's side here. We're just trying to understand before he starts crying about betrayal to Mum. Which he will, you know."
Hermione sighed and decided to speak. "Ron muttered that Harry only wanted to spend time with me because studying together wasn't enough before summer. That he needed… private lessons, as if Harry was trying to outdo him again."
Lee barked out a laugh. "Private lessons? What does he think this is, extra Quidditch practice?"
Fred and George exchanged another look, this one sharper than before.
"Listen," Fred said, voice more serious now. "Ron's our brother, yeah, but even we can admit he's been impossible lately. Always jealous, always comparing himself to everyone. It's exhausting."
George nodded. "You don't need to defend yourself with us, Harry. We know you're not trying to lord it over him. But—" he leaned forward, lowering his voice, "watch yourself. He's sensitive about being left behind. And he'll make it your fault if you're not careful."
Harry crossed his arms. "I'm not responsible for his insecurities. I've got enough to handle without babysitting him."
Fred actually chuckled at that. "Fair enough. Honestly, can't say I blame you. If we had to carry Ron's sulks on top of everything else… well, we'd have locked him in a trunk years ago."
Hermione gave him a sharp look. "That's not funny."
Fred raised both hands again, smirking. "Joking. Mostly."
George tilted his head. "Anyway, glad you two stopped by. It's good to see someone's actually doing something. Ron'll probably still be moaning about his wand not working right by then."
Lee grinned. "And speaking of preparing, want to try something new?" He pulled a small bag from beside him and opened it just enough for them to see. Inside were round, brightly colored sweets.
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What are those?"
"Skiving Snackboxes," Fred said proudly. "Latest prototype. One end makes you ill enough to skip class, the other end brings you back right as rain. We're still testing side effects."
Harry shook his head. "Not today, thanks. I've got enough on my plate without sprouting tentacles."
"Suit yourself," George said, popping one into his mouth and making a show of gagging before eating the other half. Within seconds, he was fine again.
Hermione muttered under her breath. "Honestly, you're going to get yourselves expelled one of these days."
Fred grinned. "Worth it. Someone's got to keep the school interesting."
The chatter carried on a bit longer, light enough to ease some of the tension. Harry found himself relaxing just slightly, even managing a short laugh when Lee teased Fred about nearly choking himself during a prank gone wrong.
Finally, Hermione glanced at Harry. "We should keep moving. We wanted to find Luna and Neville before the train gets too full."
George gave them a small nod. "And Harry—" his tone grew serious again, "don't let anyone drag you down. You've got enough people backing you, whether he wants to see it or not."
Harry met his eyes and gave a short nod. "Thanks."
Fred's grin returned, wide and mischievous. "Anytime, oh Chosen One. Now go before Lee tries to rope you into Quidditch commentary again."
Lee groaned. "Hey, I was only going to ask once!"
Hermione laughed lightly, tugging Harry up. "Come on, let's go."
Hand in hand, they stepped back into the corridor. The train rattled on, and though Harry's chest still carried a weight, it felt just a little lighter after talking with the twins.
The corridor was still busy. Students leaned halfway out of their compartments, shouting to friends or waving to others as they passed. The air was thick with the scent of sweets from the trolley and the faint smoke of fireworks, someone must have already tried setting off too early.
Hermione kept her grip tight on Harry's hand. He didn't mind, in fact, he preferred it. The steady anchor of her presence helped keep the whispering voice in the back of his mind quieter. For now.
A familiar voice called out as they moved past another compartment.
"Oi, Harry!"
Harry turned to see Angelina Johnson leaning in the doorway of a compartment. Behind her, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell were mid-laughter about something, but both looked up as soon as Harry and Hermione appeared.
"Well, would you look at that," Angelina said, smirking. "Harry Potter actually walking around with Hermione Granger and not Ron Weasley."
Katie leaned forward, her grin wide. "And holding hands with Hermione Granger. Did we miss some kind of announcement?"
Harry gave a small, unimpressed look, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "No announcements. Just heading to find Neville and Luna."
Alicia sat back, crossing her arms. "Uh-huh. And Ron?"
Hermione sighed. "He… wasn't exactly pleasant in the compartment."
Angelina raised her eyebrows knowingly. "Figures. The twins told us that he's been sulking since the summer started. Don't think any of us missed it." She looked back at Harry. "So what's the deal? Trouble already?"
Harry kept his voice even. "Ron thinks every time I receive something or achieve something, it's just being given to me, like he expects to happen with himself, he doesn't understand the things I have sacrificed to be where I'm right now. Sirius was proven innocent in the summer, and I've been living with him. We moved to my manor, which I didn't even know existed before this summer. He's jealous that I have this and he doesn't. What he also doesn't understand is that he has a loving family for which I would sacrifice anything if I had it. Also, since I'm changing my subjects from divination to runes and arithmancy, he feels I'm leaving him behind and he made his opinion clear. I left before it got worse."
Katie exchanged a glance with Alicia. "That's worse than what Fred and George told us, it seems," she muttered.
Hermione straightened her bag on her shoulder, tone clipped. "It's not worth going over again. We're just finding another compartment."
Angelina studied the two of them for a moment, then smirked again. "Fair enough."
Harry nodded once. "I know."
Alicia leaned forward, changing the subject. "By the way, Harry, you flying this year? With all the extra studying, don't tell me you're skipping Quidditch."
Harry shook his head. "I'm playing. I just don't plan on spending every spare hour in the morning training for Quidditch."
Katie grinned. "Good. We'll need you. And well, Angelina was going to keep drilling us like last year Wood did, but she knows we'll all collapse if she overdoes it."
Angelina shot her a look. "Oi, don't pin it on me. Wood might be gone, but someone's got to keep this team sharp."
Alicia rolled her eyes. "Sharp, she says. More like bruised and half-dead."
Hermione laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Sounds like nothing's changed."
"Not a bit," Angelina confirmed, grin returning. "Anyway, don't let us keep you. Neville and Luna might be closer to the back of the train. Fewer people to bother them."
"Thanks," Harry said.
Katie's eyes twinkled mischievously. "And Harry—good luck with Hermione. You'll need it if you plan on keeping up with her in Runes."
Hermione gave her a sharp look, but Harry only smirked faintly. "I'll manage."
With that, he gave the three chasers a nod, and he and Hermione stepped back into the corridor.
Further down, the train grew quieter. Most of the louder compartments had been closer to the middle cars. Here, voices were calmer, and fewer doors were open.
Hermione glanced at Harry. "That wasn't so bad. They didn't press too much."
Harry let out a breath. "At least they're not on Ron's side."
They walked past two Ravenclaws in conversation, then reached another open door. Inside were three Hufflepuffs Harry recognized from classes: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, and Wayne Hopkins. They weren't part of his closer circle, but they were familiar enough.
Ernie looked up first. "Potter. Granger. Looking for somewhere to sit?"
Yeah," Harry said. "We're trying to find Neville and Luna."
Justin leaned forward slightly, curiosity clear. "I take it Ron's not with you then?"
Hermione hesitated, then answered carefully. "No. We had a disagreement."
Wayne snorted. "Figures. Well, carry on then, we'll not keep you long."
Harry tugged lightly at Hermione's hand. "Sure, let's move Hermione."
"Right," Hermione said, reluctantly pulling back. "Good luck, then."
Justin gave them a wave as they left. "See you at the feast!"
The corridor emptied out further as they walked. Harry's thoughts turned inward again. Every time Ron's name came up, the tension returned. He kept his stride steady, though, and squeezed Hermione's hand again.
"Nearly there," Hermione murmured, her eyes scanning the compartments ahead. "Neville usually picks the quiet ones."
Harry gave a short nod. "Let's find them."
The corridor had grown quieter still. The laughter and chatter from the mid-train compartments had faded, replaced by the muted rumble of the train itself. Hermione adjusted her bag again, peering through each window they passed.
"There," she said finally, nodding toward a compartment near the end.
Harry followed her gaze. Inside, Neville Longbottom was talking animatedly, his hands moving as he described something. Across from him, Luna Lovegood sat with her usual serene expression, her eyes fixed on him, though Harry couldn't tell if she was really following the story or simply lost in her own thoughts.
Hermione slid the door open.
Neville looked up immediately. His face lit up, and he stood so quickly he nearly knocked over the small pot on the seat beside him. "Harry!"
Harry barely had time to react before Neville wrapped him in a firm hug. It was brief but genuine, and Harry felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease.
"Good to see you," Neville said earnestly, then turned with a shy smile. "Hello, Hermione."
"Hi, Neville," Hermione replied warmly, stepping inside.
Luna tilted her head toward them. "You've been walking up and down the train for a while. I thought you'd come here eventually."
Harry gave her a small nod. "You were right."
Hermione closed the door behind them. Harry took a seat beside Neville, while Hermione settled across from him, next to Luna.
Neville grinned. "I was just telling Luna about the plants in the greenhouse I've been working on at home. Gran let me work on my own section. Since I managed to show her all the practical display of spells we have learned so far with my new wand." His face went red as he realized he might be rambling. "Er—sorry. I was really excited and happy."
Harry shook his head. "Don't apologize. That's brilliant, Neville. You'll probably put the rest of us to shame in Herbology this year."
Neville ducked his head, embarrassed but pleased. "Thanks. It feels good to be ahead at something for once."
Hermione leaned in with interest. "Which kind of plants, Neville? I'd love to hear more about them."
Neville brightened. "Yes! I'd love to tell you all about it later."
Harry smiled faintly at the exchange. Neville had grown more confident since his first year, drastically since last year ended and it showed.
Luna spoke suddenly, her voice dreamy but cutting through the conversation. "Ron isn't with you."
The words dropped simply, not as a question but a statement.
Harry's expression hardened. "No. He and I had words. I walked out."
Neville frowned. "What happened?"
Hermione hesitated, but Harry answered directly. "We had a disagreement over a few things and he's a jealous prat who doesn't value what valuable things he currently has."
Neville let out a quiet breath. "That sounds like Ron."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "It's not just that. He's been sulking since summer, and after the trial… it's worse."
Neville nodded slowly. "Gran always says some people would rather stew in their own bitterness than face it. But… you did the right thing leaving, Harry. Better than staying and fighting."
Luna's pale eyes blinked at him. "He'll keep pulling at you until you cut the string. Some knots only tighten if you ignore them."
Hermione frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
Luna tilted her head, her tone calm, almost detached. "Ron is a knot. If you keep tugging back and forth, it won't loosen. It will strangle instead."
Harry considered the words, surprising himself by finding sense in them. "Then I won't tug anymore."
Neville gave him a small, firm nod. "You've got us. That's enough."
After that, everyone relaxed and continued their conversation on different topics. Neville started telling Hermione about the work he did in his greenhouse, Luna went back to read Quibbler, and Harry just closed his eyes to take a small nap till they reached Hogwarts, when the door slid open and the cart lady was there to offer some snacks and sweets.
"Anything from the trolley, dearies?"
Knowing it is still a long trip, and wanting to treat his friend and soulmates, Harry bought a little bit of everything to share, along with a pitcher of pumpkin juice for the four of them.
Eventually, when it became clear the rain would last the rest of the night, Harry decided to teach everyone a charm for repelling rain, along with the Drying Charm.
It took several tries, but by the time they reached Hogsmeade Station, they had managed both. As Harry and Hermione gathered their things, he murmured, "Hopefully, this will keep us dry."
Hermione glanced out the rain-streaked window and shivered. "Merlin, I hope so. It's practically a monsoon out there. If it gets any worse, the station will be very wet.
The train screeched to a halt, and students began filing out. The damp air rushed in as doors swung open. Harry and Hermione pulled their cloaks tight, stepping off with Neville and Luna beside them.
As they crossed the muddy platform, Hermione suddenly froze, her breath catching. Harry stopped too, watching her wide-eyed stare at the carriage ahead.
"Hermione?" he asked, though he already knew.
"There's…" She swallowed. "There's something pulling the carriage."
Neville blinked, looking around in confusion. "What are you talking about? The carriages pull themselves. They always have."
But Hermione's expression told another story, her eyes fixed on the skeletal, winged horse shifting its weight in the rain. Her gasp was sharp enough to echo, and Harry gently guided her forward before anyone else could notice.
"Hermione, you're not going mad," she said softly, looking straight at Hermione. "I can see them too. You're just as sane as I am." said Luna.
They climbed into a carriage. Hermione stared, pale and shaken. Harry reached across and took her hand in his own, the warmth steadying her. "They're called thestrals," he explained quietly. "You can only see them if you've witnessed death."
That earned him a long, searching glance from Hermione, the weight of memory clouding her features. Slowly, she let out a shaky breath, leaning into the comfort of his hand.
Before long, the carriages pulled to a stop in front of the castle, rain still falling in sheets. Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Luna stepped down together, following the flow of students toward the massive doors.
As they crossed the courtyard, Harry caught sight of Peeves drifting overhead, grinning like a maniac and juggling a set of water balloons. He clearly had every intention of dropping them on the heads of the crowd below.
This time, however, Harry was ready. His wand was in his hand in an instant. With a quick flick, he froze the balloons mid-air, spun them around, and hurled them back at Peeves at full speed.
The poltergeist, very much solid while holding his ammunition, was too busy laughing at his own prank to notice the sudden reversal. The first balloon splattered directly across his face, sending him sputtering. The rest followed in a rapid barrage, soaking him through.
Shrieking in outrage, Peeves dropped the remaining balloons, but Harry caught them as well and sent them crashing into him before he could flee. Soaked and furious, Peeves bolted through a nearby wall at record speed, his wailing echoing after him.
Hermione let out a laugh of relief, shaking her head. "Nicely done."
Neville grinned. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone turn Peeves' tricks back on him like that."
Even Luna, dreamy as ever, clapped softly. "That was brilliant, Harry. The Wrackspurts won't like being soaked either."
Just then, Professor McGonagall swept into view, her sharp eyes taking in the dripping wet flagstones and the students staring in awe. Her lips thinned, but there was a spark of approval in her expression.
"Impressive wandwork, Mr. Potter."
Harry lowered his wand. "Thank you, Professor. I thought Peeves was long overdue for his own medicine."
McGonagall gave a curt nod. "Indeed. Twenty points to Gryffindor for handling that infernal nuisance. Now, all of you, inside. The Sorting is about to begin."
The four of them filed into the Great Hall together. Hermione tugged Harry and Neville toward an empty spot at the Gryffindor table, deliberately keeping her distance from Ron. Harry sat beside her, Neville settling in nearby, and Luna drifting off toward the Ravenclaw table.
As the hall quieted and the Sorting Hat was brought forward, Harry leaned back in his seat, his thoughts shifting to the year ahead.
When the first years entered the Great Hall behind Professor McGonagall, a silence fell. About twenty of them, looking terrified, shuffled into line. The Sorting Hat, patched and frayed, was placed on the stool at the front.
The whole school watched in silence as the Sorting Hat twitched, opened its rip near the brim, and began to sing.
The hat's voice rang out across the hall, reciting its new song, speaking of the four founders and their different values. Harry half-listened, though he already knew which qualities belonged to which House. Hermione leaned forward, smiling faintly at the lines about Ravenclaw. Neville fidgeted nervously, clearly remembering his own Sorting years ago.
"You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends."
The Sorting began.
Professor McGonagall unrolled her parchment and called out the names one by one. The hat deliberated on some for long minutes; others it sorted almost instantly. Cheers rose from each table as the first years joined their Houses.
Hermione clapped politely with each announcement. Neville cheered for Gryffindor's additions, though he looked relieved not to be the one under the hat again.
"Denise Creevy!"—"GRYFFINDOR!"
Everyone in their table cheered while Denise removed the hat and ran towards his brother, Colin.
And so it went, the hat sorting each trembling student into their House.
Harry watched with less anxiety than in years past. He remembered his own Sorting, the voice of the hat whispering in his mind, and also about the choice he made.
Finally, the Sorting ended. The last of the first years slid into place at their tables, and Professor McGonagall carried the stool and Sorting Hat away.
Dumbledore rose, arms spread wide, beaming at the school.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! We have multiple announcements for today, but before that, I have only two words to say to you. Tuck in."
As all this was going on, the staff at the Head Table were watching the students with interest.
"So, Minerva, who do you expect to enter the Tournament?"
"I didn't think you were the type to gamble, Filius."
The Charms professor smiled at that. "I usually don't, but one can't help but wonder at the possibilities."
"I'm more concerned with how many students will try to enter their names, despite being underage."
Dumbledore chuckled at her worries. "Have no fear, Minerva. I will be preparing the age line myself. Not even Messrs Fred and George shall pass it."
That put some worries at ease, and for a few moments, silence dominated the Head Table.
Albus, now, had tuned out the conversation by this point. His attention was focused on Harry, as he chatted with his fellow Gryffindors. It was a cause of some consternation he noticed Ron was seated some distance away from Harry and Hermione. He didn't like the prospect of Harry evading his informant in Ron. When he saw an opportunity, he sent a Legilimency probe to Harry... and felt it get violently ejected from his mind.
"Albus? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Minerva. I think I'm just feeling my age catching up to me."
'I can't let anyone know I failed to enter Harry's mind! Bad enough I tried, but that I FAILED? That will do no good.' He then noticed that Harry was looking at the Head Table, no doubt from feeling the Legilimency on his mind. Fortunately, he wasn't looking at him, but at Snape, shooting him a frightening glare. 'That settles it. The Dragon has broken free, at least partially, but he isn't able to communicate with Harry. Otherwise, he'd know exactly where the attack came from. I have to find a means of containing it, without any help. This will be a long year.'
Well Harry knew who had sent the probe but he didn't want to give any indication to Dumbles about his strength yet.
After the Feast, 'Alastor' arrived, drawing the attention of the entire Hall. Then came the big announcement: the Triwizard Tournament was being held at Hogwarts. Of course, plenty of students were unhappy at realizing they couldn't enter to compete, though it mattered little. Harry knew that 'Alastor' (Crouch Jr.) was already planning to enter his name in the Tournament.
Chapter 33: First Day BackNotes:If you like my work, follow the link to read ahead and my other works - https://www.instagram.com/bibliophile1722/
Chapter TextChapter 33: First Day Back
The light streaming in through the tall, narrow windows of Gryffindor Tower carried a dull grey tint — the remnants of the storm from the night before. The rain had slackened, but the air outside was heavy, mist clinging to the glass panes.
Harry stirred first. His eyes opened slowly, his body already alert in a way it hadn't been in past years. His training over the summer had sharpened him. Even here, back in the warmth of the dormitory, he woke with an edge of readiness.
Around him, the dormitory was still half-asleep. Seamus Finnigan snored loudly, his blankets twisted around his legs. Dean Thomas mumbled something incoherent, probably caught in a dream. Neville, in the bed nearest the door, was already awake — Harry saw the faint glow of wandlight as he quietly practiced a charm beneath the sheets.
Only Ron's bed was shut tight with its curtains, no sound coming from behind them. Harry stared at the heavy fabric for a long moment before swinging his legs out of bed. He felt no urge to draw the curtains back, no urge to mend things. For once, he felt free from that constant pull.
"Morning," Neville whispered when Harry passed. His wandlight dimmed.
"Morning," Harry answered with a faint smile. "Practicing already?"
Neville flushed. "Didn't want to waste time. First day and all."
Harry clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "That's the right mindset. Keep at it — you'll surprise everyone this year."
Neville gave him a shy, grateful grin before tucking away his wand.
Harry dressed quickly, pulling on his uniform with practiced efficiency. By the time he slung his bag over his shoulder and reached the common room, Hermione was already waiting at one of the tables near the fire. She had parchment spread out in neat stacks, quill tapping against her notes.
"You're early," Harry said as he crossed to her.
Hermione looked up, eyes bright despite the hour. "I couldn't sleep much. Too many thoughts about the new schedule, the Tournament, all of it. Besides—" her gaze softened as she studied him, "—I knew you'd be awake."
Harry smirked faintly. "Guess I'm stuck in the routine now."
She rolled her eyes, though affectionately. "Come on, let's head down. We can probably meet others in the great hall."
The common room was quiet, only a few scattered students about. Harry held the portrait door for Hermione, and they stepped into the cool corridor. The castle felt different at this hour — half-asleep, its stones echoing softly with their footsteps.
As they descended toward the Great Hall, they found Neville waiting near the staircase, his bag already on his shoulder. He gave them both a nervous but eager smile.
"Ready?" Hermione asked.
"Ready," Neville said firmly.
The three of them entered the Great Hall together. It was less crowded than usual, most students trickling in at their own pace. The enchanted ceiling showed a dim, cloudy sky. The long tables gleamed with breakfast dishes, platters of eggs and bacon, toast stacked high, pitchers of pumpkin juice steaming slightly.
Harry glanced instinctively toward the staff table — but the tall, robed figure of Dumbledore was absent. Only McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout were seated, their conversations subdued. Moody was nowhere to be found. Harry's jaw tightened. He hadn't forgotten last night.
They settled at the Gryffindor table, keeping a few seats' distance from where Ron had parked himself with Seamus and Dean. Harry didn't look over once.
Hermione busied herself with pouring pumpkin juice, Neville grabbed toast, and Harry filled his plate, the steady rhythm of breakfast anchoring the morning.
The clatter of owls soon filled the air. Dozens of them swooped in through the high windows, dropping letters and packages across the tables. Neville ducked slightly as a Hedwig glided low over his head. Hermione received a thick envelope from her parents, her eyes lighting up as she set it carefully aside. Harry had no letter, but Hedwig had brought the letter from Hermione's parents to her this morning, he didn't mind the quiet.
Before long, timetables began to be handed out. Professor McGonagall strode briskly down the table, her robes sweeping as she distributed parchments. When she reached Harry, she paused a fraction longer than usual, her sharp eyes flicking between him and Hermione.
"Mr. Potter," she said, handing over his schedule. "As you are aware, you will not yet find Ancient Runes or Arithmancy listed. Before those can be added, you'll be sitting preliminary examinations with Professor Babbling and Professor Vector to determine whether you may enter their classes at this level. I expect you to arrange that with them promptly."
Harry nodded, meeting her gaze evenly. "Understood, Professor."
McGonagall's lips twitched — not quite approval, not quite disapproval — before she moved on down the line.
Hermione immediately unfolded her own timetable, eyes lighting up. "We've got Runes and Arithmancy this afternoon after lunch! Oh, Harry, Professor Vector is brilliant. We'll just revise what we studied this summer for your exam."
Harry chuckled softly. "One step at a time, Hermione."
Neville leaned over, peering at his own schedule with trepidation. "Double Herbology this morning," he muttered. "That's good… though Snape right after is less so."
Harry grimaced in sympathy. "We'll manage."
Hermione looked thoughtful. "Snape might be worse this year, with the Tournament and all the extra scrutiny…"
Harry sipped his juice, eyes narrowing slightly. "Let him try."
The bell rang through the hall, signaling the start of classes. Students began rising, gathering their bags and books. Harry stood, shouldering his satchel, and glanced at Neville and Hermione.
"Come on. Let's start this year right."
Together, the three of them left the hall, heading toward their first lesson — and toward the tests that would decide Harry's new path.
The morning slipped away in a blur of classes and corridors. Harry kept his focus sharp, though his thoughts were already set on what came after lunch. McGonagall had told him plainly: before he could join Ancient Runes or Arithmancy, he'd have to prove he could handle fourth-year material.
Hermione, of course, had slipped him a slim stack of parchment notes she'd drawn up — last-minute reminders of rune sequences and Arithmantic charts. Harry had spent part of lunch scanning them, grateful but determined not to lean too heavily on Hermione's brilliance. This was his chance to show what he'd learned on his own. He had the knowledge in his head, but it's a good thing to have in handy if he feels stuck.
By the time the bell rang for afternoon lessons, Harry was already waiting outside the small classroom on the third floor where Professor Bathsheba Babbling taught Ancient Runes. The door opened, and she beckoned him inside.
The classroom smelled faintly of parchment and old ink. Symbols were chalked across the blackboard in neat rows, unfamiliar to most but already recognizable to Harry.
Professor Babbling was a thin, energetic witch with keen eyes and ink-stained fingers. She gestured to the desk at the front.
"Sit, Mr. Potter. We'll make this brief but thorough."
Harry nodded and sat, pulling quill and parchment from his bag.
Babbling leaned forward, folding her hands. "You've not taken my classes before, and yet you wish to join in the fourth year. Tell me — what have you studied?"
Harry straightened. "Basic Elder Futhark, Professor. Summer work with translations. Bindrunes for protective and reinforcing charms. I've practiced structuring runic arrays — small ones, at least — for containment and warding."
Her eyebrows arched. "Practical arrays, you say?"
Harry nodded once, steady.
"Very well. Let's test you. Translate this." She tapped her wand, and the chalk rearranged into a string of jagged symbols.
Harry bent forward, lips moving silently. Ansuz… Raido… Tiwaz… Isa. He worked it through, recalling the associations Hermione had drilled him on, then cross-checked it against the bind form. "It's a navigational array — a sequence designed for clarity of thought and direction. Often paired with Isa for restraint, so it doesn't overreach."
Babbling's eyes gleamed with interest. "Not bad at all. And tell me — how would you inscribe it if you wanted it to last a week rather than a day?"
Harry didn't hesitate. "Layer the Isa twice, inverted the second time, and anchor with Othala at the end."
A pause. Then, slowly, Babbling smiled. "Very good, Mr. Potter. Very good indeed." She flicked her wand, and a small clay tablet floated to Harry's desk. "One final task: draw me a binding rune to ward against flame."
Harry drew carefully, deliberate strokes of his quill forming Kenaz entwined with Isa, binding it with a double Algiz. When he finished, he set the quill down and looked up.
Babbling examined it, then nodded once. "You've done the work. Consider yourself in my class. Do not fall behind — I'll not slow the pace for you."
"I won't, Professor," Harry said firmly.
She dismissed him with a flick of her hand.
The Arithmancy classroom was brighter, filled with the scratch of quills and complex charts pinned to the walls. Professor Septima Vector, sharp-eyed and brisk, was already waiting when Harry arrived.
"Potter," she said, looking him over. "I am told you wish to join my fourth-year course. You are aware, I hope, that Arithmancy is not divination games and guesses. It is mathematics, structure, logic. Can you handle that?"
"Yes, Professor," Harry replied.
"Prove it."
She conjured a sheet of parchment covered in equations — columns of numbers interspersed with runic markers. "This is a basic predictive chart for spell stability. Solve the sequence and tell me: will the charm collapse or hold?"
Harry's eyes narrowed. He worked through the sequence slowly, recalling Hermione's whispered tips at breakfast: focus on the numerical root, check the modifiers, reduce before substituting runes. His quill scratched quietly as he solved step by step.
Finally, he looked up. "It will hold, but not for long. The stabilizing rune's position is one degree off. It will unravel after twenty minutes unless reinforced."
Professor Vector's eyebrow lifted. "And how would you reinforce it?"
"Shift the prime digit from three to five. It lengthens the cycle without overloading the core structure."
Vector studied him for a long moment, then gave a short, approving nod. "Acceptable. One final test: calculate the Arithmantic value of your name."
Harry blinked but bent over the parchment. He worked the chart, letter by letter, reducing the total until he reached the core. "Seven," he said.
Vector's mouth twitched. "A seeker of truth. Fitting."
She handed him a clean timetable. "Very well, Potter. You may join the class. But understand — I expect precision. No laziness, no improvisation. Work hard, and you will succeed."
Harry inclined his head. "I will, Professor."
When Harry finally left the classroom, the tension in his shoulders eased. He'd passed. Both of them. The parchment timetable in his bag now bore two new lines: Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.
Waiting just outside the corridor, Hermione leaned against the wall, eyes shining with anticipation. Neville stood beside her, rocking on his heels nervously.
Hermione straightened the instant she saw him. "Well?"
Harry let out a small grin. "I'm in."
Hermione's face lit up, and for once, she didn't even try to hide her pride.
Neville clapped him on the back, smiling broadly. "Knew you'd do it."
And as they walked down the corridor together, Harry felt the first flicker of something steady inside him — not just relief, but control. He wasn't just reacting anymore. He was preparing, step by step.
This year, he'd be ready.
Chapter 34: The Study GroupNotes:If you like my work, follow the link to read ahead - https://www.instagram.com/bibliophile1722/
Chapter TextWhen Harry went to sleep that night, he had multiple thoughts running through his head. He knew it would be some time before Fleur would be at Hogwarts, but he needed to start his soulmate bond with Daphne and Susan. With Tonks, he had told her everything, his past lives and his second chance at life, no, probably last chance at his life. He had to make everything right. He really loves his every soulmate. Whether they understand or not, he will always support them. With these thoughts in mind, Harry fell asleep.
The next morning, the air inside the Great Hall carried a cool sharpness. The enchanted ceiling mirrored a pale, washed-out sky, with thin streaks of mist drifting lazily across it. The storm from two nights before had left its mark; the atmosphere was heavy, though the rain itself had gone.
Harry entered with Hermione and Neville. The hall wasn't yet full, and the lower hum of conversation made the space feel calmer than usual. He glanced at the staff table automatically. Dumbledore's chair was empty. Snape's as well. Only Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Mad-Eye Moody, were present. Moody's mismatched eyes swept across the students every so often, restless, while McGonagall's expression remained as stern as ever.
They sat near the middle of the Gryffindor table. Ron was already there, farther down with Seamus and Dean, his back turned toward them. Harry noticed the angle of his head—how he didn't look over even once—and forced himself not to care.
Breakfast went by with a steady rhythm: pumpkin juice poured into goblets, toast stacked high, and plates of eggs and bacon being passed along. Hermione kept one hand on her timetable, studying the morning's plan with her usual focus. Neville spread jam over toast carefully, almost methodically.
When Harry almost finished his plate, Professor McGonagall swept down the aisle. She stopped at his side and held out a parchment.
"Mr. Potter," she said briskly, "your revised timetable. Ancient Runes and Arithmancy are now included. Be certain you arrive prepared and do not take them lightly. Professors Vector and Babbling will not make concessions for latecomers."
"Yes, Professor," Harry answered.
McGonagall gave him one sharp look before moving on.
Hermione leaned over, eyes shining. "See? Official now."
Neville gave Harry a smile of encouragement. "That's brilliant."
Harry folded the timetable and slipped it into his bag. "It just means more work," he said, though there was a flicker of satisfaction behind his voice.
As the three of them were finishing their breakfast, Hermione lowered her voice. "I'll talk to Daphne and Susan at lunch—or in between lessons if I can catch them. Tonks too. We'll start putting the study group together properly."
Harry nodded. "Good idea. The sooner, the better."
Before Hermione could add more, the doors to the hall opened, and Luna Lovegood drifted inside. She moved in her usual unhurried way, her long blonde hair falling loosely down her back. Instead of heading to the Ravenclaw table, she walked straight toward them.
Hermione's face lit up instantly, and Harry felt something in his chest ease. Neville straightened, smiling shyly.
"Luna," Hermione said warmly.
Luna gave them a dreamy but genuine smile as she sat beside Neville. "I missed you yesterday."
"We missed you, too," Harry said at once.
Her eyes sparkled faintly. "That's good. I was worried you'd start without me."
Neville chuckled awkwardly, and Hermione reached across to squeeze Luna's hand briefly.
As they settled again after Luna came, two Ravenclaws—Sue Li and Terry Boot—came over from their own table. Both looked a little uncertain at first, but Hermione gestured quickly.
"Come sit with us. I guess you wanted to talk about the study group, which I suggested last year before summer, right?."
Sue smiled shyly and sat down. Terry gave Harry a nod before sliding in on the other side of Luna.
Terry replied, "Yeah, although we come from the house of the clever, but because of inconsistent teachers in DADA, we need some help, also with potion."
Su continued, "And you cannot discount how problematic arithmancy could be, so we thought it would be a good thing to do."
"Hmm, well then, let's meet in the library after all the classes. At lunch, I'll be able to talk to Daphne and Susan to bring the other students from their houses, whoever wants to come. And if the library doesn't suit us, we can try finding an abandoned classroom." finished Hermione
After setting the time for the study group, Sue and Terry left.
Harry noticed, distantly, how Ron's posture stiffened down the table. He didn't turn around, but Harry didn't need to see his face to know Ron had noticed.
Their first class of the morning was Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was brisk from the start, setting the tone as always.
"By fourth year," she said sharply, "you are expected to show precision. Sloppiness will not be tolerated."
This is a precursor to your OWLs, which you'll give next year, so pay attention.
The day's lesson involved changing teacups into tortoises. Hermione completed hers within ten minutes, the small reptile blinking in confusion on her desk. McGonagall gave her a rare approving nod and 5 points for finishing the transfiguration first.
Neville struggled at first, producing only a cup with legs, but he kept at it under Harry's encouragement. By the end, he had something that resembled a tortoise, even if its shell still gleamed faintly like porcelain.
Harry's own tortoise emerged steady enough. It scuttled across the desk, stubby legs moving awkwardly but solidly.
McGonagall's eyes swept over his work. "Acceptable, Potter. Keep refining the detail."
By the end of class, Hermione was scribbling down notes furiously, Neville looked proud of his progress, and Harry carried his tortoise-turned-back-to-cup with quiet satisfaction.
Next class was COMC, so after a quick walk down to Hagrid's hut, the Gryffindors gathered with the Slytherins for Care of Magical Creatures. The damp grass clung to their shoes, and the edge of the Forbidden Forest loomed close by.
Then came Care of Magical Creatures. As excited as Harry was to see Hagrid again, he definitely didn't want to be handling Blast-Ended Skrewts again. If any creature could be classified as a mistake, it was these things. The repulsive hybrids of Fire Crabs and Manticores were as violent and unpleasant as he remembered.
At the end of class, while the others rushed to the castle for lunch, Harry stayed behind to talk to Hagrid.
"Harry! How are you doing?"
"So far so good. Hagrid, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something about the Skrewts."
"Course I don't mind! What do you want to know?"
Glancing around, and satisfied no one had hung back, he spoke in a low voice. "Hagrid, did you breed these for the Tournament?"
Hagrid looked nervous at that, glancing around in a similar fashion before whispering, "How did you find out?"
"I didn't. I know the Tournament was discontinued because of the steadily rising death toll. Second, and no offence Hagrid, but unless you plan on releasing these into the wild, I don't see how useful this class is." As Harry finished, a pair of Skrewts began fighting with one another, as a third propelled itself around the paddock by launching sparks from its rear end. "Plus, these aren't exactly the friendliest of creatures."
"Well, when they agreed to host the Tournament 'ere at Hogwarts, Bagman came down to talk about creatures for the tasks. We got talking, and he had the idea of breedin' new ones. Offered me a contract, he did, to breed something for the Tournament. 'Course, he didn't mention any 'help' from the Ministry would be money for 'damages."
"They just, hoisted the responsibility on you, when they knew you had other responsibilities as a teacher?"
"Well, yeah." Hagrid looked glum at that admission. "Was planning something special for this year. Woulda been great..."
"Give me a few days, Hagrid, and I should have something that'll make caring for them easier." With that, Harry ran towards the castle for lunch, before Hagrid could reply.
The rest of the day passed in the steady pattern of classes. Charms with Professor Flitwick brought precise incantations; Hermione's feather charm lifted higher than anyone's. Neville managed to get his to hover steadily, earning a small cheer from Luna beside him.
At lunch, the Great Hall buzzed with conversation. Hermione leaned across the table to Harry and Neville.
"I spoke to Susan and Hannah in passing. They're both coming to the study group. Tonks said she'd join too, and she's bringing Justin and Ernie. I'll talk to Daphne and Tracey before dinner. If Blaise comes along, that'll give us balance."
Harry nodded. "The more students are there from different houses, it will create a cohesion. A show of unity."
Down the table, Ron glanced over briefly before turning back to Seamus. His shoulders hunched, his jaw set.
Harry turned away.
That evening, the library's candles burned steadily, casting long pools of light across the tables. Madam Pince hovered near the shelves, but the students claimed a corner near the back.
Hermione had gathered them carefully: Harry, Neville, Luna, Sue Li, and Terry Boot were already seated when the Hufflepuffs arrived. Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Ernie Macmillan slipped in, followed by Tonks, her pink hair drawing curious stares from passing students.
A moment later, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis from Slytherin entered together, Blaise Zabini trailing behind with his usual detached air.
The air grew tense for a moment. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins rarely mixed this way.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Thank you all for coming. The idea is simple: a study group, open to anyone serious about learning. We'll share notes, practice together, and help each other keep up."
Tracey smirked lightly. "Sounds like Hermione Granger wants to run her own little classroom."
Hermione flushed, but Harry spoke evenly. "It's not about houses. We all need to be sharper this year. The OWLs are next year, and with The Triwizard Tournament, the tension… we'd be better off learning together."
Blaise raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think Slytherins will share their strategies with Gryffindors?"
Luna, calm as ever, said, "Because it would be lonely otherwise."
The group paused. Tonks snorted with laughter, breaking the tension. "She's right, you know. Lonely and boring."
Daphne leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp. "If this is serious, then I'm in. We'll all benefit from being better prepared. But I don't waste time on games."
Susan Bones nodded firmly. "Then we agree—serious work only."
Hermione relaxed slightly. "Good. Then let's start. Everyone, take out your notes from today's lessons."
Slowly, books and parchments spread across the table. Harry caught Neville's eye; Neville looked nervous but determined. Sue and Terry leaned close, comparing notes. Hannah Abbott smiled as she copied down a charm adjustment from Hermione.
Across from them, Blaise still looked skeptical but didn't leave. Daphne's quill moved with precise strokes, while Tracey made a wry comment that earned a laugh from Ernie. Tonks added her own humor, though her quill moved just as quickly.
For the first time Harry could remember, students from every house bent over the same table, sharing ink, parchment, and knowledge.
Harry glanced down the aisle between shelves. Somewhere far off, imagining the past.
Harry turned back to the group. Whatever this was, however fragile, it was new. And it mattered.
Chapter 35: The Study Group and Constant VigilanceNotes:Hey, you liked the story, pleae follow the link to read ahead - https://www.instagram.com/bibliophile1722/
Chapter Text
The castle always seemed to breathe differently after supper. The noise of the Great Hall faded into muffled echoes down the corridors, and the staircases creaked as they shifted in the half-dark. Torches guttered in brackets along the walls, their light flickering against cold stone.
Harry found himself walking alongside Hermione, Neville, and a mixed knot of students trailing behind them. The group was larger than anything he would have imagined. Their idea of forming a proper study group and sowing the seeds for it before the last year had ended had given them the result they wanted. Not just Gryffindors, but Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and even a few Slytherins had agreed to join.
The mix was awkward—everyone kept to small clusters of their own house at first—but the fact that they were all walking together was unusual enough to make Harry feel like something important was starting.
The library was good for studying and note sharing, however, for a study group that big to actually help each other in their weak subjects would be a nightmare to conduct, so they were roaming around the castle to find a perfect place for all of it.
"I still think the library would have been best," Hermione said briskly, her voice echoing off the corridor's arching ceiling. She carried a stack of books, quills sticking out of the top like flags of determination.
"We won't be able to cast spells in the library," Luna said from behind. "Madam Pince isn't very forgiving if anything happens to a single book there."
"And there is no space, we need an abandoned classroom, big enough for all of us," said Tonks, who was walking backwards at the front of the pack, hair tonight a shocking shade of bubblegum pink. She winked at Susan Bones beside her. "If we blow a wall open, fewer questions."
Tracey Davis, one of the Slytherins, snorted. "Comforting."
Blaise Zabini walked silently, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. He didn't bother to hide the faint air of amusement at everyone else's chatter. Daphne Greengrass, in contrast, kept her eyes sharp, scanning their surroundings as if she were already calculating escape routes.
Harry glanced around the group. In addition to Hermione, Neville, and Luna, there were Sue Li and Terry Boot from Ravenclaw, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, and Tonks from Hufflepuff, and the trio of Slytherins—Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise.
He had never imagined walking through the castle with so many different housemates at once. It felt like he was carrying a fragile bubble, one wrong word away from bursting.
Although he could have introduced them to RoR, he hadn't gotten their trust yet, and it would be some time before he trusted them himself. And also, he needed RoR to do his own training, he knew he would be facing Voldemort at the end of the year. Voldemort's pieces were moving, and he had already made his moves. All he had to look after was Dumbledore's pieces.
Finally, they stopped at a door near the end of a seldom-used corridor on the third floor. This was the same room where Fluffy was stpred to keep Quirellmort away, but that hadn't stopped him and Hermione and Ron to go inside and try to stop the efforts for stealing philosopher's stone.
Hermione pushed it open, and the hinges groaned in protest.
The room inside was exactly what they'd hoped: wide, empty, with a thick layer of dust carpeting the floor. Cobwebs draped the corners, and chalk still clung to the edges of a blackboard.
"It'll do," Tonks said cheerfully, immediately sweeping her wand in a wide arc. "Scourgify!" The dust nearest her vanished in a puff, though most of it still clung to the far corners.
"Not bad," Neville admitted, looking relieved that no explosions were involved yet.
Hermione nodded. "This will work. We'll need to keep it quiet, though. Wouldn't want some troublemakers to know about this."
Harry could think of Ron and Draco. Surprisingly, he hasn't yet come to him, so far, to antagonize him. Probably the death of his father might have muted his arrogance.
Harry then moved to the center, brushing aside some dust with his shoe. The room had a feel to it—empty, waiting, almost humming with the possibility of being used again. It was the kind of place where something new could take root.
He pulled out his wand from the holster and started adding wards to the room and the door. Silently, he weaved all the wards he wanted.
Everyone else's mouth was open, seeing him do this. Except Hermione and Luna. They have seen him practice these back at Potter Manor. Daphne's composure almost broke. Susan was awestruck, and Tonks was seeing the firsthand experience of Harry's craft.
After that, they settled into loose groups. Hermione insisted on beginning with structured practice: a review of spells they all should have mastered already.
"Simple first," she said firmly, raising her wand. "Let's make sure we're consistent. Lumos!"
Her wand lit instantly.
The others followed. Beams of light flared to life around the room, except for Neville's wand, which glowed brighter than the others.
Susan Bones stepped forward. "Maybe we could try something defensive? Professor Flitwick mentioned we'll be graded harder this year."
Hermione hesitated, but Harry spoke before she could. "Good idea. Try the Shield Charm—Protego."
He demonstrated, wand flicking as he remembered Sirius's advice about intent. An almost solid shield appeared around him. Apparently, getting one with his animagus had given him so much advantage alongside his knowledge. And also his training session with Sirius.
Susan mirrored him, her voice steady. "Protego!" A clean, bright barrier snapped into place in front of her. It was stronger but not more than Harry's, and she smiled faintly.
"Not bad," he said honestly.
Their eyes met for a moment—hers calm and steady, his curious. Something eased between them, as though trust had started to form.
Tonks, meanwhile, had conjured her own shield, but then deliberately let Hermione's Stinging Hex bounce off it and ricochet into the ceiling. She cackled as everyone ducked.
"See? Practical application!" Tonks said brightly.
Tracey Davis grinned. "I like her."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose but didn't argue.
The first half-hour passed in a mix of serious practice and unexpected mishaps. Justin Finch-Fletchley managed to knock over an entire desk with an overpowered Levitation Charm. Terry Boot produced a jet of sparks so strong it singed Ernie's sleeve.
Surprisingly, the Slytherins joined in without too much resistance. Daphne's precision with charms was almost surgical—she rarely missed. Blaise performed each spell with a detached elegance, as though he wanted everyone to know he could do it but cared little for the outcome. Tracey provided a running commentary, half encouragement and half sarcasm.
"Nice form, Neville—only half the room on fire this time."
Neville flushed, but Luna clapped her hands in approval, and somehow that made it better.
Harry noticed Hermione watching the Slytherins carefully. She was suspicious, but she didn't object. For once, her desire to keep everything organized was balanced by the reality that extra hands—competent ones—might make the group stronger.
At one point, Blaise spoke directly to Harry. "Why exactly are you organizing this?" His voice was cool, but not hostile.
Harry met his gaze. "Because some of us need the practice. And because we'll do better if we help each other." Well, he wasn't about to tell them that this was because he could get closer to Daphne, Tonks, and Susan. His soulmates. If it meant a good place for them to study and relax, and practice spellcasting, well, he wouldn't say no to that a all.
Blaise considered that, then inclined his head slightly, as if conceding a minor point.
Susan stepped in before the silence stretched. "It makes sense. My aunt says dark times don't care about house lines. We need to be ready."
There was a heaviness to her words. Everyone knew about the Bones family's losses in the last war.
The group went quiet, even Tonks. Finally, Tracey muttered, "Fair point."
They rotated partners. Harry found himself paired with Susan again and then with Tonks.
With Susan, the work was steady. He corrected her wrist angle on a disarming spell, his touch brief but meaningful and sure. They exchanged small nods of respect.
With Tonks, practice was chaos. She exaggerated wand motions, nearly tripped over her own feet, and laughed every time something went wrong. But beneath the joking, she was quick—her spells landed sharp and accurate when she chose.
"You've got good instincts, Tonks," he said after blocking one of her hexes cleanly. "Don't second-guess yourself so much Tonks. Just go with it. First thought, best thought."
She filed that away.
By the end of the session, the room was filled with scorch marks, lingering smoke, and a surprising amount of laughter. Even Ernie cracked a smile after accidentally stunning himself.
Hermione surveyed the chaos with a resigned sigh. "Well, it's a start."
"It's better than nothing," Neville said quietly, but with more confidence than usual.
As they packed up, Luna drifted to the blackboard and scrawled in looping letters: The Study Group. Beneath it, she doodled a small creature with wings.
"That's us," she said serenely. "Something that doesn't exist yet, but will."
Daphne raised an eyebrow but didn't erase it. Blaise shrugged.
Hermione looked around the room, determination returning. "Same time next week?"
There were murmurs of agreement. Even the Slytherins gave curt nods.
Harry glanced around at the group—the mismatched collection of students who, for one evening, had set aside rivalries. For the first time in his school years, he felt like something positive might be building.
He could feel that besides his actions at the World Cup finals, Susana and Daphne have gotten a good impression of him. It would do for him for it to stay that way.
There was something else which Harry was looking forward to, the DADA class towards the end of the week. Most of the things stayed same only, hearing from Weasley twins about the Moody's class made it more true. The morning of the class, the Great Hall buzzed with a different kind of energy for 4th year students.
Harry had also overheard years whispering about him, passing along rumors like contraband. Some said he was half-mad from curses. Others swore he carried a collection of equiometns in his office. The Slytherins seemed divided—some excited, most skeptical and sneering.
Harry sat between Hermione and Neville, a plate of eggs cooling in front of him. Across the table, Dean and Seamus were talking in low voices with Ron, who still refused to look at Harry. Ron's fork scraped against his plate a little too hard every time Harry laughed at something Luna or Neville said.
Susan and Hannah walked by, giving Harry brief nods before joining their own table. Tonks ruffled his hair in passing with a grin. Even Daphne and Blaise, who rarely acknowledged anyone outside Slytherin, offered subtle glances of recognition.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was scheduled right after breakfast. This time, Harry and Hermione were among the first to arrive, well before everyone else. It was a good thing too, because soon the rest of the class arrived, forming a line behind him. When the bell finally rang, the doors opened on their own. Harry and Hermione grabbed a seat at the front, while Neville sat with Dean Thomas.
The room itself felt different already. Dark curtains were drawn halfway across the windows, casting heavy shadows across the desks. Strange instruments clicked and whirred on the shelves. The smell of something acrid hung faintly in the air.
The door banged shut behind them with a force that made several students jump.
Finally, they heard the dull clunk of a fake leg, and in limped Professor 'Alastor Moody.' The silence was just as eerie now, as it was last time. Not even Snape could get a class this quiet. Every pair of eyes in the class followed his every step. No one knew what to expect, and no one wanted to miss a thing.
Finally, they heard the dull clunk of a fake leg, and in limped Professor 'Alastor Moody.' The silence was just as eerie now, as it was last time. Not even Snape could get a class this quiet. Every pair of eyes in the class followed his every step. No one knew what to expect, and no one wanted to miss a thing.
Standing behind the desk at the front of the room, he looked over the class with the same look a field marshal might give new recruits to his old unit. When he spoke, his voice was gruff, but commanding.
"Alastor Moody." He turned to the blackboard and began writing. "Ex-Auror... Ministry malcontent... and your new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me to, goodbye, the end. Any questions?"
Nobody dared to even breathe.
"Put those books away," he barked, voice like gravel scraped over iron. "You won't be needing them today."
Hermione's gasp was audible.
Moody slammed his staff onto the desk at the front. The noise echoed. "I'm here to teach you how to defend yourselves. You want theory? You've had it for three years. Now it's time for the real thing. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
The words cracked through the room like a curse. Everyone straightened.
Even Blaise Zabini, who normally looked bored with everything, leaned forward slightly.
Moody prowled the aisles, his magical eye rolling in all directions.
"You're not here to learn tickling charms. You're here to learn how to survive. Dark wizards don't play fair. They won't duel you politely. They'll curse you when your back's turned. They'll hex you when you're half-asleep. And if you're not ready, you're dead."
The room was silent.
Hermione's quill hovered over her parchment, but she didn't dare write yet.
I have received the records from your last Professor Lupin, he covered the Magical Creatures but not the curses and you are behind, very behind.
"When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. But first, which of you can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?"
"Three, sir," Hermione answered, but she sounded on the verge of tears.
"And they are so named?"
"Because they're unforgivable. The use of even one on a fellow human will-"
"Will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Correct. Now, the Ministry says I'm only to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. They say you're too young to see these curses in action. I say different! You need to know what you're up against! You need to be prepared! You need to find a better place for your chewing gum than the underside of your desk, Mr.Finnegan!"
Seamus was seated around the middle of the class with Ron, and he wasn't happy at being caught. "The old codger can see out the back of his head."
"AND HEAR ACROSS CLASSROOMS!" A piece of chalk came narrowly close to hitting Seamus square in the head. Only ducking at the last minute saved his... well dignity. "So, which curse should we see first?"
The excitement that filled his voice at that last question kept the class as silent as a tomb. Slowly, students began raising their hands, as Moody surveyed the class, until finally settling on a student, who hadn't raised their hand.
"WEASLEY!"
"Yes!?"
"STAND." The ginger git slowly rose to his feet, and Moody locked on him. "Give us a curse."
"Well... my dad d-did tell me about one... the Imperious Curse."
"Oh yeah, your father would know all about that one. Gave the Ministry a bit of grief some years back. Perhaps this will show you why."
As Moody walked to the jar that contained one unlucky spider, Harry felt Hermione's hand in his own. She had grabbed it at the realization they were about to see the Unforgivables in action, and was not mentally prepared. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and watched their 'professor' in action.
Harry hated letting Crouch Jr. play as moody right now but for the sake of things playing out in his favour, he had to let it play out as it was.
While Harry was rationalizing, 'Moody' had begun his Imperius demonstration. At first, the class was laughing at the antics of the spider. Even Hermione chuckled, involuntarily it seemed, at the spider on Malfoy's face.
"What should I do next, have her jump out the window?" The laughter died almost immediately. "Drown herself?" The spider came dangerously close to ending its own life. When it was again in his own hand, the class was looking at him in total silence.
"Scores of witches, and wizards, have claimed they only did the Dark Lord's bidding under the Imperious Curse. Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out the liars. The Imperious Curse can be fought, but that takes great willpower and real strength of character. Not everybody's got that, so it's best to avoid being hit if you can. Remember, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" The class jumped as he barked out the last two words.
Moody's normal eye fixed on Neville, who squirmed. "LONGBOTTOM! Name me the next Unforgivable Curse."
Neville stammered. "Th-the Cruciatus Curse, sir."
Moody's scarred mouth stretched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Right you are. Causes pain—unimaginable pain. Used for torture. Illegal, of course, but do you think that stops anyone? Ha!"
He flicked his wand. Another spider from a different jar flew from his desk, landing neatly on the surface.
"Let's have a look, shall we?" Moody growled. He pointed his wand. "Crucio!"
The spider convulsed, legs curling in on itself as if it were being torn apart from the inside. It twitched and writhed in agony.
The class gasped. Susan's face went pale. Neville's knuckles whitened on the edge of his desk.
The spider began to twitch horribly, and Harry instantly felt something shift on his right. Looking to his side, he found Hermione had buried her face in his shoulder and was gripping him like a lifeline. No more willing to let her suffer than Neville, Harry turned to the front of the class.
"PROFESSOR!"
Moody let the curse drop. The spider flopped weakly, still twitching.
"That," Moody said flatly, "is what awaits when the Cruciatus Curse is used on a person. Remember it."
Moody turned, looming over the class. "Mr.Potter, can you give us the final curse?"
Holding Hermione against him, he reluctantly answered. "The Killing Curse. Instant death for those who get hit. There's no counterspell, and your only hope is to either avoid getting hit or block it with something big enough."
A hush fell. Even the torches seemed to dim.
Moody lifted his wand toward the final spider. "Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light filled the room. A rush of sound—final, absolute.
The spider was dead before it hit the desk.
Gasps broke out around the classroom. Susan made a choked sound. Hermione pressed her lips together tightly, pressing herself more towards Harry.. Neville sat frozen.
"There's no blocking it," Moody said grimly. "No counter-curse. Just—boom." He slammed his staff down. "Dead."
No one moved.
"That's why they're Unforgivable. You use them—you go to Azkaban for life. That's the law. But law won't stop Dark wizards from trying. You'd best understand what you're up against."
Moody dismissed the spiders with a flick, then scanned the students again. His magical eye lingered briefly on Harry, unnerving him.
"Questions?"
No hands were raised.
When the bell finally rang, the students left the classroom in uneasy silence. Some whispered furiously. Others said nothing at all.
Neville looked shaken, and Hermione hovered near him protectively. Susan walked with Hannah, her shoulders straight though her face remained pale. Daphne led Tracey and Blaise out without a word, their expressions carefully masked. Other slytherins alongside them.
In the corridor, the group of study partners found themselves clustering together instinctively. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, even Slytherins—it didn't matter. They had all seen the same thing.
"That was…" Terry Boot shook his head, at a loss.
"Brilliant," Tracey offered, though the tightness around her eyes betrayed nerves.
"Horrifying," Hermione corrected sharply.
"Necessary," Susan said quietly.
They all turned to look at her. She didn't elaborate. She didn't need to.
Neville seemed more shaken than the others. Harry knew why. As they were about to move further, Moody came out of the classroom.
"Longbottom! Come here, I heard you have a good head for herbology from Sprout. Come, let's talk, I have a book for you." Barked Moody.
Neville looked at Harry and Hermione, but then he turned around and went inside.
Harry definitely didn't want to let Neville go alone inside Moody's classroom again but currently he cannot do much. This will have to suffice.