Tuesday morning, Harry Apparated to a grove of trees not far from where Hermione lived and walked to the tall brick house the Grangers lived in, which Harry liked as soon as he saw it, especially because of the dense hedges around the entrance. He picked out the perfect location into which to Apparate this afternoon when he brought Hermione back home where no Muggles would be able to see them.
He rang the bell and was greeted by an enthusiastic Hermione.
"Hi! Come in!" she said, beckoning him inside.
She gave him a quick tour of the house, and Harry found himself liking it even more once he saw the character of the Granger household, where each room offered clues to the history of her family. When he caught sight of the framed advertisement for Granger Dental on the wall of her parents' shared home office, prominently featuring a very young Hermione with a very large grin revealing several missing teeth, he was able to convince Hermione to share more photographs of her childhood. He was not sure why he found the amount of joy he did in flipping through the pages of the Grangers' photo albums, listening to Hermione provide background information when needed, but he did eventually pick up on her boredom at doing as much.
"Okay. That was fun, but you want to get going?" he asked, closing the album featuring Hermione's grade three memories and already sensing her relief.
"Yes!" she said, standing up from the love seat upon which they had been sitting. "Do we… need to go outside, or…"
Harry shook his head, standing as well. "Nope. We can leave from right here, whenever you're ready."
Previously so eager, Hermione suddenly looked somewhat unsure.
"Okay. It's mostly like with Toory and Zeely," she told herself, eyeing Harry's offered arm and eventually, slowly, taking it.
She had travelled "by elf," as Ron liked to call it, but had yet to Side-Along Apparate. Harry had tried to describe to her as best he could the differences between the two, paraphrasing the literature on it, as that was his only source of information having never Side-Along Apparated himself, and knowing that Hermione would have likely read up on it during the past year.
"Deep breath in," Harry told her, knowing it was not necessary, but that it helped.
At once, Hermione began sucking in air, for far longer than Harry had anticipated, to the point where he found himself about to laugh at the absurdity of her lung capacity, and Disapparated before the laugh could escape him.
They appeared on the familiar trail serving as the entrance to Potter Manor, but only a few feet away from the turn in the hedge leading to the grounds. Harry could feel at once that all three dragons were waiting with anticipation in their usual spot just inside the clearing. He turned to Hermione, who was still clinging tightly to his arm. She was blinking her eyes somewhat manically, but otherwise seemed fine.
"You all right?" he asked her, attempting and failing to withdraw his arm from her clutches.
She nodded vigorously in response, even as Harry could see that she had now shifted her uncertain anxiety to the prospect of meeting three dragons. When she finally met Harry's gaze, she seemed to recognize the impression she was giving, and worked to compose herself.
"Yes. Yes—okay, let's go," she said, each word doubling her resolve.
Harry led her forward, not feeling any resistance physically. Emotionally… he blocked his senses, finding it rude to be aware of how she was truly feeling when she was trying so hard to appear brave. He continued leading her forward until they were in the clearing. Berta was the first to spot them, perhaps sensing their footfalls, as she was the only dragon on the ground at that moment, Sarah and Penny circling lazily above her. Once Berta squawked, however, the other dragons caught on immediately, screaming their own excitement and diving down.
It was here that Harry felt Hermione try to pull him back, but he did not allow her to do so, continuing to guide her forward as all three dragons flapped their way towards them. He looked at her to make sure she was okay, only to see her eyes closed.
"Hermione… you're missing it," he said incredulously.
Her face formed a worried expression. She took a deep breath, seeming to steel herself, and opened her eyes.
"Oh!" she gasped in wonder as she took in the sight of the dragons landing haphazardly in front of them. "Oh my gosh!" She doubled her hold on Harry, but her eyes stayed wide open, an uncontrollable laugh eventually popping out of her as she took it all in.
Berta wasted no time rushing towards Hermione, having recognized her at once. Her laughter turning somewhat crazed, Hermione still maintained her position, letting go of Harry's arm and grabbing onto Berta the same way she used to when she was small.
"Berta! Your scales are so strong! Look at you!" Hermione beamed, and Harry knew then that everything was fine.
Keeping a strong connection to Sarah and Penny to guide them towards trusting Hermione, they spent the next hour together with the dragons, Hermione finding the entire experience predictably fascinating.
"Harry—you said you're good with animals, but this is remarkable. They're so attuned to you!" Hermione exclaimed as she and Harry sat atop his favorite hill, watching the dragons playing in the wind.
Harry looked at her before responding, appreciating her observational skills and eventually nodding.
"I know," he admitted, shrugging. "It's been like that my whole life with animals. I was glad when I met my first magical creature and found that it applied to them as well—more strongly, even. I dunno how to explain it."
Hermione looked at him thoughtfully, and he knew she was theorizing as well as planning future research into this notion. He found that it did not bother him. Just then, Zeely appeared with a crack.
"Master Harry, Mistress Hermione!" she said, becoming far more elated at the sight of Hermione. "Lunch is ready sir. Is you wanting it in the house or brought to you here?"
Harry looked at Hermione. He was pretty sure she would prefer to eat here, but wanted to be sure. She grinned and shrugged, looking over the grounds.
"Whatever you want is fine…" she said politely.
"This is my favourite hill," Harry explained, gesturing at the view. "So if you're happy staying here, that's fine with me."
Hermione nodded energetically, Zeely mirroring the gesture. The house-elf cast Harry a quick glance, and when he offered his own approving nod in return, Disapparated at once. Moments later, she and Toory reappeared with a picnic basket, which the pair of them immediately began unpacking, spreading a white blanket on the ground in front of Harry and Hermione, and posturing a selection of sandwiches and refreshments for them to enjoy. With matching grins of satisfaction, Toory and Zeely Disapparated, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. Hermione breathed out a whoop of enthusiasm.
"Well, they are really quite good at their jobs, aren't they?" she said, impressed.
Harry fingered through the sandwiches until he found his favourite, knowing it would be there. "They're the best. I consider myself lucky every day knowing I have them on my side."
Hermione took the lid off a container, sniffing the contents and exhaling a soft moan of appreciation. "How long have they worked for your family?" she asked, starting to scoop out the contents onto her and Harry's plates.
Harry paused, wanting to find the right words to explain the connection of house-elves to someone who had not grown up in wizarding society.
"Well, it's not work, actually," he decided upon. "They've been a part of my family for generations now. The way that I think of them—and how they were thought of by the other members of my family from what I can find—is that they're just a part of us. House-elves are magically bound to serve their families, as I'm sure you're aware, but with Toory and Zeely…" He thought, wanting to phrase it correctly. "They're just my family. They don't work for me. Sure—they call me Master, and yes they're technically bound to obey my orders, but they also fuss over me and sometimes just… leave me frustrated."
He shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich, not sure how else to put it.
"That sounds like…" Hermione stopped herself, taking the time to look through the sandwiches with no apparent intent to finish her thought.
"Sounds like what?" Harry asked.
Hermione sighed. "Okay, well I was going to say that kind of just sounds like good, caring parents, but then I realized how incredibly insensitive that was. Sorry."
Harry thought about that for a second, and waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, no need to be sorry. But all this talk of house-elves and their bonds with families makes me think again about Dobby. He was punishing himself for warning me about whatever is suppose to happen at Hogwarts, which leaves three possibilities, as I can see it: One, his family talked about it in front of him purposefully to try to trick him into warning me, to the point where Dobby would leave without permission and defy their wishes just to try to keep me from coming back to Hogwarts. That theory just seems too convoluted, and I can't see what anyone would think they would gain by such a thing."
Hermione was looking at him now, her search for a sandwich apparently forgotten.
"Two," Harry went on, "they definitely could have ordered Dobby to playact this whole thing to try to trick me, forcing him to lie to me about a danger at Hogwarts as an act of benevolence, going as far as to try to harm himself in punishment, when in fact Dobby would be gladly serving his masters' nefarious purpose."
"Oh, that's true," Hermione said. "I hadn't thought of that."
"But that's not it either," Harry said. "Dobby was telling me the truth, or at least what he believes to be the truth. That much I'm sure of."
"How?"
Harry paused, thinking about how much he wanted to reveal to Hermione about his Legilimency skills. "Well… I have something of an intuition when it comes to things like that—not necessarily with humans, but definitely with magical creatures—not that I consider house-elves to be creatures! Anyway, there were some lies in what he said, like when he asked about my feelings towards friends who 'never' wrote to me. He was lying there, but everything else he said, he considered to be the truth."
This time when Hermione opened her mouth, Harry ploughed on, not wanting to side-tracked the conversation with what he knew would be a number of inquiries.
"So, the only option which seems reasonable to me is that someone is indeed planning to do something at Hogwarts this year and thanks to Dobby, we know about it and can tell Dumbledore."
"Have you written to him?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't want to send it through post, considering what Dobby's done already with that. I thought about sending Toory or Zeely, but ultimately decided I could just wait to do it in person, especially since we'll be heading back in a couple of days."
Hermione looked at him for a moment, then nodded, finally selecting her own sandwich and unwrapping it from the wax paper around it. She gave it a small sniff.
"Is this… crab salad?" she asked.
It was a jarring side-track to the conversation, and it took Harry a moment to respond. "Oh — yeah, the elves asked what kind of sandwiches you liked. It's a good thing I have the memory I do because they were quite insistent that I provide them with an answer. You mentioned once in Herbology when Neville was telling Dean about the time his Uncle Algie fed him raw crab to see if he would vomit or not — which he did — and you said, 'I've never met a crab I didn't like eating, especially in a nice crab salad… Ron, your quill is dripping ink on my shoe.'"
Hermione had just taken a bite and Harry could see that she had to work hard to not open her mouth to help express her shock. It made her look rather silly, in Harry's opinion, and he drank some pumpkin juice to try to hide his smile. Finally, Hermione finished chewing and swallowed.
"I knew you had a really good memory, Harry, but that… how do you remember that in such detail? Now that you've repeated it, I remember — that's exactly what I said!"
Harry shrugged. "I remember everything in the same way. It just stays there." He tapped his head. "Always has, as far as I know. But I suppose there could be a day in there somewhere during which something happened that I no longer remember. It would take too long to review every moment to check, so I guess we'll never know."
Hermione was quiet and thoughtful for a couple of minutes in that way she sometimes was, and Harry was happy to just sit and enjoy their lunch until she organized her thoughts. Whatever she had been thinking, it led to yet another abrupt change of subject.
"What do you think of Susan Bones?" she asked nonchalantly, selecting a white petit four from a plate and nibbling at a corner of it.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, thinking he knew precisely what she meant but hoping he was wrong.
"I think she fancies you," Hermione said, again with a casual air, but a smirk was trying to break through it. "I wondered if you fancied her back. She is rather cute."
Harry noticed that he had started quickly shaking his head, and stopped himself.
"Erm… that's great and all, but I'm just not… looking for that kind of… thing… right now," he said, somewhat angry at himself for the stress he felt at having to tell this truth. He had a real urge to stand up and leap off of the hill, flying away from this bizarre conversation.
"Okay," Hermione said. She took another little bite of her tiny confection. She was definitely pretending as if she had just asked this out of idle curiosity, but Harry was not bothered by it, owing to the fact that she never brought it back up.
They visited the dragons again one more time before Hermione's visit was over. Harry posed the idea of going for a ride on Sarah's back, but Hermione made it quite obvious that she was not ready for that level of adventure quite yet.
Harry Apparated them to the spot within the Grangers' hedge he had picked out earlier, finding it just as convenient as he had thought it would be. He went inside with her and for a little while chatted with Hermione and Mrs. Granger, who had come back from the office by now. Hermione dominated the conversation most of the time, regaling her mother with stories about the dragons while Harry nodded his concurrence of her tales in response to Mrs. Granger's looks of awe.
"It's so sweet that Berta remembered you," Mrs. Granger said. "And just the fact that you spent the day associating with dragons only to come home with such cheerful stories about them… It makes me very glad we let you go off to Hogwarts."
Hermione turned to look at Harry just as he had raised his eyebrows. She seemed to have anticipated his response.
"They almost didn't let me come," Hermione explained. "Professor McGonagall first sent a letter about an opportunity with a private boarding school —"
"Which surprised no one," Mrs. Granger interjected. "Smart as she is."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled. "In it, she asked to come by the house to talk in person about the opening at the school. In hindsight, it's obvious that she'd done this same thing countless times, building things up in just the right way so that by the time she demonstrates exactly what she means when she tells us that Hogwarts is unlike any school we've heard of, everything just falls into place."
"She's right," Mrs. Granger agreed. "I remember thinking, oh — that's why Hermione had all of those odd things happen around her, even since she was very young. But it still was a bit of a shock."
"So, it took a bit of convincing to get them to agree to let me go," Hermione said.
"She always has had a strength for being convincing," Mrs. Granger said, looking half nostalgic and half defeated.
"It's hard to imagine a Hogwarts without Hermione," Harry said.
He left shorty after that comment, which both women seemed to find… amusing? Endearing? Whatever it was, Harry could take no more of it, and left with as much grace as he could manage. He would have said the same thing about Ron, or Neville, or any number of close friends, but he was glad he had avoided pointing that out to them in the moment. Regardless, he tried not to read too much into the brief look they had shared with one another, and bade them farewell.
During the early morning of September first, Harry was in his suite going through some photos he had managed to take at the manor this past year, trying to decide which he might want to bring to Hogwarts, as well as which he felt his friends might like copies of. He smiled looking at one of Seamus from his Christmas party, thinking jokingly that it would make for great blackmail material, when he heard the patter of small footfalls behind him.
Zeely's little face came around to look up at him, her large eyes looking rather concerned.
Harry's amusement at Seamus fell away. He tossed the photo into his trunk to give to Seamus to decide what to do with himself, and looked at Zeely.
"What's wrong, Zeely?" Harry asked, thinking he likely knew, but not quite certain.
"Master is worried about returning to Hogwarts." Her tone was a mixture of question and statement. The situation with Dobby had been at the forefront of Harry's thoughts lately, which Zeely must have picked up on. He sat back in the armchair in which he was sitting, Zeely coming to stand at his knee, her little hands resting upon it as she continued to look at him searchingly.
"Not worried, per se," Harry said reassuringly. "I've just… got a feeling that maybe it's going to be another odd year. But no—I'm not worried, Zeely." It was the truth, and he looked back at her hard, hoping she understood as much.
After a few moments of searching his eyes, she clearly relaxed, giving a sad smile.
"We is going to be missing you something awful, Master Harry," she admitted, her bottom lip starting to quiver.
It nearly broke Harry's heart, and he put his arm around her shoulders.
"I know. I'm going to miss you too. Don't forget though, I'm going to be able to stop back home a few times this term, so I'll get to see you both more than last year." Harry had permission to travel home to get his professional Quidditch gear before meeting Puddlemere Uni for practices and matches.
Zeely nodded, a few fat tears falling onto Harry's leg. He rubbed her back consolingly, and they headed together downstairs, Zeely holding his hand the whole way down. After a nice breakfast together with Toory, Harry made his way around the grounds, saying goodbye to the creatures who were awake enough to communicate with at this time.
At quarter past ten, he said his final goodbyes to Toory and Zeely and Apparated to platform nine and three-quarters. Being somewhat early, he brought his trunk and a sleeping Hedwig in her cage onto the train, stowing them in a compartment and then heading back onto the platform. Feeling somewhat restless, he decided to head into the Muggle section of King's Cross to wait for Ron's family, who he knew were driving to the station this morning with all five of their Hogwarts students. He had a hard time imagining the chaos that might entail, trying to manage all of that, but he had fun trying.
Many of his other friends came and went as Harry stood outside the station, checking his watch more and more frequently as eleven o'clock drew nearer and nearer. He was just considering Apparating to the Burrow to make sure everything was okay when he spotted Mr. Weasley hurrying across the street from the parking lot, alone. When he saw Harry, however, his wave did not convey disaster, but rather exasperation.
"Running a tad bit late," Mr. Weasley said, clearly recognizing the superfluous nature of the statement. "Just grabbing some trolleys."
"Here, let me help!" Harry said, glad he was there to assist him.
Together, they gathered enough trolleys for Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny to be able to get all of their things into King's Cross station, making their way towards platform nine and three-quarters. Harry was only able to manage a few harried utterances of welcome to the lot of them.
Now, all they had to manage was getting their large group onto the platform, which was somewhat tricky to do without any Muggles noticing them vanishing into the solid-looking barrier between platforms nine and ten.
"Percy first," said Mrs. Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear get through the barrier.
Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr. Weasley went next; Fred and George followed.
"I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us," Mrs. Weasley told Harry and Ron, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they were gone, Ginny looking somewhat put out at being dragged along like a toddler.
"Let's go together, we've only got a minute," Ron said to Harry.
Both of them bent low over the handles of Ron's trolley and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and —
CRASH.
Ron's trolley hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, and Ron was knocked off his feet; people all around them stared and a guard nearby yelled, "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"
"Lost control of the trolley. Sorry about that," Harry said quickly, pulling Ron from the ground. The Muggle guard shook his head and walked away, muttering complaints about today's youth.
"Why can't we get through?" Harry hissed to Ron.
"I dunno," Harry said, first helping Ron get his trunk back onto the trolley, and then walking to the barrier, putting his hand against it. "Son of a bitch."
"What?" Ron asked, looking at the spot Harry had felt, which looked perfectly normal.
"Dobby," Harry said by way of explanation.
"You're kidding!"
Harry shook his head. "I wish I was. The whole thing is blocked on this end. We could wait until someone came back through, but by then the train would have left."
"So what do we do?" Ron asked.
Harry looked around. He could Apparate them to the platform, but there were too many Muggles around. Someone would be bound to see and hear them Disapparate.
"Erm… okay, grab my arm and be ready," Harry said.
Ron complied, but looked nervous. "What are you gonna do?" he asked, but Harry gave no answer, looking around intently.
Both of his wands were stowed away, and he had no desire to break the Statute of Secrecy by drawing one of them in such a crowded place. Instead, he led Ron towards the most secluded spot he could find, and gestured towards the pastry stand next to platform eight as if he were pointing something out to him. Just then, several of the glass juice bottles slid off of their shelves onto the hard ground, causing a cacophony of shattering and clattering noises that drew everyone's attention. Before the sound died out, Harry took a quick glance around and, seeing that no one was watching, grabbed Ron's arm and Disapparated.
When they appeared on platform nine and three-quarters, Ron immediately gasped for air, swaying on the spot. Harry felt bad for him, but also practically carried him towards the train, which was already starting to pull away from the station.
"It's not Ron's fault!" Harry shouted as the two of them passed by Ron's parents, who were standing side by side holding onto one another in what must have been an emotional send off to Hogwarts of their final child, having clearly not noticed Ron and Harry's absence in all the rushed chaos. He wished he had more time to explain, but they were very close to missing the train. Harry levitated Ron's things haphazardly into the closest staircase, then practically threw Ron onto the very last one now passing by before leaping onto it himself. He turned to see the forms of Mrs. Weasley, clutching her chest, and Mr. Weasley with his hands on his head, the both of them watching in shock as the train pulled away.
"All good!" Harry shouted at them, trying to wave reassuringly but thinking they would likely be on edge for quite some time.
"A little warning might have been nice," Ron complained as he got to his feet. "Now I know what a Bludger feels like."
They recovered Ron's things from the car ahead, and then doubled back to the last car, where they had already seen Ginny and Hermione in a compartment.
"What happened?" Hermione asked loudly, standing outside the compartment now as they walked towards her.
"Well, you know Ron," Harry said, several other students peering nosily at them. "Eleven o'clock means eleven o'clock."
When they got into the compartment, they saw that Hermione and Ginny were joined by Neville and a blond-haired girl who must have been a first year, as Harry did not recognize her. Hermione sat next to Ginny so that it was girls on one side and boys on the other, Harry and Ron both releasing grateful sighs once they were seated.
"Cutting it awfully close there, aren't you?" Neville said somewhat needlessly. Ron and Harry shared a look.
"It's a long, weird story," Harry said. "I'll tell you about it sometime, but for now I'm just glad we made it."
"You're Harry Potter," the blond-headed girl said. She had large eyes, and gave off a whimsical aura.
"I am, although at the moment I feel more like a train robber," Harry replied.
The girl laughed more enthusiastically than Harry felt was warranted, but it seemed sincere nonetheless. She gazed at Harry for a while before Hermione eventually spoke up.
"Erm, Harry, this is Luna Lovegood." Harry got the impression that Hermione had been waiting for Ginny to introduce them, and wondered if they knew each other.
"Luna lives just up the hill from the Borrow," Ron explained. "She and Ginny are friends."
Harry looked to Ginny, who avoided eye contact with him, He managed to avoid sighing at another awkward moment, and was glad at least when Ginny nodded in agreement.
"Are all of you in Gryffindor House?" Luna asked, finally ending her stare down of Harry and looking at the others, who gave nods or grunts of confirmation. "Did you suspect that's where you would have ended up, or was it a surprise?"
The question led to a long conversation about the Sorting ceremony, each of the second-years sharing their experiences. Harry suspected that, like him, their retellings were somewhat redacted, as it was a very personal experience. Regardless, both Luna and Ginny seemed relieved at hearing what it was going to be like.
"Did Fred and George tell you you'd have to fight a troll or something," Ron asked Ginny. She shook her head, and it took three tries for her to work up the courage to speak.
"Th-they said… They said I'd have to tell the hat my biggest secret," she said, going red.
Hermione scoffed. "Honestly. That's so mean! It's nothing like that Ginny, I promise you."
This also appeared as a great relief to Ginny, and Harry could not help but to wonder what kind of secret Ginny might have that had made her so concerned, but then thought that it might have something to do with why she was so nervous around him all the time.
The conversation maneuvered into several different territories, until Harry realized something he had not taken note of when he had first heard it.
"Wait a minute," he said to Luna. "Is your father Xenophillius Lovegood?"
Luna nodded five times. "Yes, that's Daddy."
"Oh!" Harry said. "Well I really enjoy what he's doing with The Quibbler. The wizarding world is severely lacking when it comes to diversified perspectives. He's filling a gap that desperately needs filling, in my opinion."
Luna stood up at once, and Harry was momentarily concerned, until she shooed Hermione and Ginny down the bench and took the space across from Harry previously occupied by Hermione. She looked at him intensely, her eyes searching his.
"I've never heard anyone say that in person," she said, sitting back in her seat after having been leaning forward to gaze at him. "Daddy gets letters saying as much, but this is my first time meeting someone who feels the same way."
"Oh, erm…"
"But then again, I guess I haven't met many people in general," Luna said, and got back up, waiting for Ginny and Hermione to move back to their original positions, giving Harry a look that conveyed how silly it was for them to have not known they should be doing so.
Ron and Neville's faces matched how Harry felt, but he tried to not make it obvious. It did not really matter, however, as Luna was gazing out the window now, seemingly oblivious to there even being anyone else in the compartment, staying that way for quite some time.
She eventually came back to the group as if she had never mentally left, about a half hour before they came in to Hogsmeade Station. Harry and the others wished Ginny and Luna luck once the train came to a stop, and everyone disembarked. Ginny and Luna headed off to the boats with Hagrid, who yelled hello at Harry's group, who were following the throngs of older students to what Harry knew was a small fleet of carriages that transported all students above first-years to the castle. A bottleneck of sorts began to form along the path so that they came to a standstill, waiting for it to clear.
"Not very efficient, is it?" Ron asked, jumping up to try to see what was holding them up.
"See anything?" asked Hermione.
"No," Ron said, shaking his head. "Harry, you can jump higher than me. See if you can tell."
Harry thought about it and then tried a different approach, shouting loudly. "Hey! Someone ahead yell even farther ahead asking what's going on until we get an answer, then yell back!"
There was a short pause before Harry heard someone else shout the same thing, then eventually someone else shouting ahead as well. He listened hard until the line of inquiries was too difficult to hear over the noise of the other students.
"D'you reckon it's Dobby again?" Ron whispered in Harry's ear.
Harry sighed. "I certainly hope not. Wait…"
A response seemed to be making its way back to them. It was about three iterations ahead when Harry picked up on it with his enhanced hearing. He frowned, but kept the knowledge to himself until it made its way in earnest back to his group. Apparently, many of the students were wary of what appeared to be skeletal-looking animals who were now pulling the usually self-driving carriages.
"What?" Neville said. "What are they on about? They've always been pulled by Thestrals!"
"Thestrals? I never knew that!" Hermione said, looking affronted. "That was never mentioned in Hogwarts, A History!" She looked to Harry for his take on this.
"Yeah, me neither," Harry said, and it was true. He had done a bit more study than her of Hogwarts, but had never heard of Thestrals being used to pull the carriages. He had seen them in the forest during his night-time explorations, but had never stopped to interact with them, not seeing a reason to bother them in their natural habitat. There were Thestrals on the ground of Potter Manor, and while they were friendly if approached correctly, they were quite content to keep to themselves. If Thestrals pulled the carriages here, that must mean they were wrangled by Hagrid and so were more used to interacting with wizard kind. He would have to try stopping by sometime to say hello.
Regardless, he was going to do so now, he realized, and thinking about why so many students were reacting to the sight of the Thestrals, he now understood the hold-up with the queue. Thestrals were only visible to wizards and witches who had encountered death. Harry was an exception, his bloodline crowning him Lord of Beasts, which superseded many limits when it came to magical creatures. Neville, it seemed, had seen someone die, which was unfortunate. The majority of the students surely had not… that is until the end of last term when most of them had witnessed together the death of Professor Quirrell in the Great Hall.
"Ah," Harry said aloud, and then shared his realization with the group.
"Oh. So that means," Ron started, looking at Neville, then seemed to realize the impoliteness of whatever he was about to say, which Harry felt was likely to be a question of who Neville had seen die. Ron did not go on, and everyone, perhaps sensing the same thing Harry did, let the moment dissolve away, starting to walk forward now as the throng of students began moving again.
There was only one carriage unoccupied by the time they got to the front, with most of the carriages already ambling away down the path towards Hogwarts. Harry eyed the Thestrals strapped to the front of the carriages, and tried to imagine what the scene must look like for anyone unable to see the creatures, deciding that it would appear wholly magical and therefore quite normal in this context. There were many mutterings from the few students still climbing in, with one or two of them being brave enough to approach the creatures, who did not show much response, which was somewhat eerie. They had a very horse-like appearance, but there was something reptilian about them as well, perhaps because they lacked any real flesh and were completely skeletal, aside from a shiny black coat which covered their bones, including their bat-like wings. Their eyes were an opaque white, but they could see, Harry knew, and were in fact well-known for their excellent sense of direction, which he admitted made them a nice fit to transport Hogwarts students back and forth to and from the school.
Harry approached the Thestral attached to the carriage his friends were getting into. He knew they were gentle and kind in nature as a default, but any animal could be an outlier from the norm. This was not the case with this one, who eyed Harry as he drew near and showed no sign of trepidation at the gesture. By the time Harry was in arm's reach, he had gotten a strong enough feeling from the creature that he had no qualms about reaching out and stroking its neck, scratching in what he could feel was just the right place, which Harry felt he could make a living doing with all varieties of creature, if the need ever arose — Potter's Professional Scratches-no itch left unfulfilled.
He joined Ron, Hermione, and Neville in the coach and they rode along the path, all of them looking forward to the feast. Before long, they were at Hogwarts, the carriage ride not taking as long as the boat ride across the lake. Professor Sprout stood by the gates of Hogwarts, waving a greeting and then closing the gates behind their last carriage. They scrambled to catch up with everyone else, making their way into the castle to the Great Hall and taking their seats at the Gryffindor table. Harry watched Dumbledore for any sign that he was suspicious of anything, wondering if he might already be aware of whatever it was that Dobby was trying to warn Harry about. As far as he could tell, the headmaster was without concern, chatting with Professor Flitwick next to him and smiling as students finished taking their seats.
Before long, Professor McGonagall appeared from the side door through which Harry and the other kids in his year had walked through last year. Following behind her was the line of first-years waiting to be sorted. Once she had them spread out evenly in front of everyone, she placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty, patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it, as did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:
Quite many centuries ago,
The Sorting Hat was born.
Not birthed by natural means, of course,
But created to be worn
By students such as these,
Who came here to be taught
By Hogwarts' renowned founders,
Whose faculty they sought.
T'was Gryffindor who looked for those
With bravery in their hearts.
While Ravenclaw thought those with wit
Should give Hogwarts a start.
Ol' Slytherin believed Hogwarts
Should focus on the strong,
While Hufflepuff felt showing
Loyalty could do no wrong.
Unable to agree on who
Should be allowed to stay,
The founders installed Houses
Which we still maintain today.
I shall be placed upon your head
And we will have a chat.
I'll tell you which House you shall join,
For I'm the Sorting Hat!
The hall burst into applause, Fred and George whooping in appreciation, which Percy tried unsuccessfully to order them to stop doing. Professor McGonagall then began reading the names of the first-year students, who scurried to each of their tables, some clearly relieved and others downright elated with which House they had been Sorted into. Luna Lovegood wore the hat for longer than anyone before her in the alphabet, and at one point burst into laughter at whatever the hat had presumably said to her under it, ultimately being Sorted into Ravenclaw. Ginny was the final student to be sorted, waiting nervously alone at the end of the line while the hat was deciding what to do with Evan Ulrich.
"It stinks, being at the end of the alphabet," Ron said empathetically. You always have to sit and stew for everything. I'd rather just —" He slammed his palm on the table, perhaps a little more strongly than intended, earning him a look of reproach from Percy, which Ron did not seem to care about in the slightest. "I think Ginny's been pretty nervous about this for a while. I thought she was being quiet because you were around, but she's kept at it lately even when you weren't."
Ron's fingers were tapping on the table as he looked at Ginny, frowning. Harry thought perhaps Ron was nervous for her as well.
"Are you hoping she gets into Gryffindor?" Harry asked, and Ron's head whipped around to him immediately.
"Of course!" he said, again too loudly, now receiving a shushing sound from Percy. Ron looked the slightest bit sheepish. "It just wouldn't seem right if she wasn't."
Evan Ulrich was sorted into Slytherin, and it was Ginny's turn under the hat. Harry had never seen her look so pale before, her fingers white as bone as she grasped the stool under her and squeezed her eyes shut during whatever was taking place under the hat. The wait had just been long enough for Harry to start wondering what other House the Sorting Hat might be considering for Ginny when the hat opened its mouth-like rip.
"Gryffindor!" it yelled with an air of finality.
The Gryffindor table, so full of Weasleys and their friends across all the years, erupted in the strongest cheers yet. Ginny, now grinning and with color definitely returning to her face, scampered to the table, Fred and George bumping those around them down the bench to make a spot between them for their sister, who they essentially attacked in affectionate congratulations until she socked Fred in the stomach, to the amusement of many — Harry included.
"Excellent!" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed, now standing. "There comes a time in a wizard's life when he must stand and speak his mind. Must share with those around him the myriad of thoughts and ideas he has been cultivating over many years… but now is not that time. Tuck in!"
At once, the tables were full of the variety of foods Harry had grown accustomed to at Hogwarts, and everyone began filling their plates.
"Congratulations, Ginny!" Hermione called over to her, leaning back in her seat to try to see around the line of students between them. Ginny leaned back as well.
"Thanks!" she said appreciatively.
"I was getting nervous," Ron told her. "I was starting to feel like Mum!"
The other Weasleys laughed at that comparison, and Ron turned to Harry and Hermione.
"At least twice a week, all summer, Mum would — out of the blue — offer a response to something no one had said about Ginny's sorting, even if she was standing alone in the kitchen."
"Of course, the other Houses would be lucky to have her—thrilled to have her!" George demonstrated, mimicking his mother's voice rather well, in Harry's opinion.
The feast was very enjoyable, as they normally were, but more so after having been away for so long. When dessert was served, Harry and the other second-years around him decided to try a small part of each offering rather than just one or two, splitting things up among them into smaller portions, Ron and Seamus abstaining. When only the bored and sleepy students were still picking absently at their food, Professor Dumbledore rose again. Knowing it would mean the food was about to disappear, Ron made to grab a last cream puff, but Hermione reached out and put her hand on his, cocking her head with something of a worried expression.
"Ron…" she said, mirroring Harry's own concern that Ron might just vomit if he ate another bite.
"Yeah, all right," Ron sighed, withdrawing.
"Good choice," Harry agreed.
"Now that we have all had a chance to relax and enjoy each other's company in the first of what shall be many enjoyable meals together, I shall damper the mood with the inevitable notices and reminders I feel are important to convey before we all retreat to our beds," Professor Dumbledore started. "Firstly, I want to be certain you understand the boundaries within which you should remain whenever exploring the Hogwarts grounds…"
Dumbledore went on to give most of the same notices he had done last year, with the exception of the warning regarding the third-floor corridor. Ironically, it was the complete lack of hint of any danger that convinced Harry to do what he did when the students were dismissed and began making their way to their dormitories for the evening.
"I need to go do something, so I'll see you lot later," Harry said absently to the Gryffindors at large as he kept his eyes on Dumbledore, who remained standing at the High Table, chatting with Hagrid, who looked like he was ready to leave. Harry maneuvered himself sideways through the crowd, trying to time his movement so that he would get to Dumbledore just as Hagrid was walking away, which he managed to do perfectly.
"Professor," Harry said only loudly enough to be certain he got Dumbledore's attention. When the headmaster turned to see him standing where usually the staff only did, his eyebrows raised in surprise, which Harry felt was understandable.
"Harry," Dumbledore said, cocking his head ever-so-slightly.
"I need to speak with you in private," Harry said seriously, again keeping his voice as low as possible, barely moving his lips.
Dumbledore made to reply, with what Harry thought was likely to be some comment on the late hour and how they could arrange a talk at another time, but when he searched Harry's eyes, he seemed to change his mind. When he spoke, he also did so quietly, even as his mannerisms conveyed that he and Harry were simply chatting pleasantly.
"Please wait in my office, then. I shan't be long. Peanut brittle." He looked at Harry meaningfully to see if he understood the last bit, which he did, nodding his understanding and then walking way.
Harry rejoined the throng of students, following the Gryffindors for as long as he could before veering off and heading towards the entrance to the headmaster's office, which was hidden behind a statue of a gargoyle. It was sitting idle when Harry arrived in front of it, only a brief flicker of its eyes in Harry's direction giving any clue that it was aware of his presence.
"Peanut brittle," Harry told it, and it hopped aside as he had seen it do last year, revealing a moving, spiral staircase which Harry stepped onto and rode to the top, where the door to Dumbledore's office stood. Having been told to wait in the office, Harry assumed there was no need to knock, but opened it tentatively nonetheless, sticking his head in and looking around. He was glad he did when he saw Professor McGonagall standing behind Dumbledore's desk, putting the Sorting Hat back onto the shelf where it normally sat. Harry kept the door mostly closed and knocked politely, making McGonagall turn in surprise.
"Potter! What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Professor. Erm… well, maybe nothing and maybe something. Professor Dumbledore told me I should wait here to talk to him about something," Harry said, fully entering the office and closing the door behind him after a momentary hesitation.
"Has something happened?" McGonagall asked, looking worried.
"Not… not today," Harry responded.
Professor McGonagall's expression changed to her much more common look of dry mistrust.
"Perhaps yesterday, then," she said flatly.
Harry let out a nervous laugh. "Erm… it's just something that… was brought to my attention over the summer," Harry said, trying harder to appease her inquiry. "It's a long story, Professor… could I maybe wait until Dumbledo—Professor Dumbledore gets here to go into all of it?"
She looked at him for a while, during which time he tried and failed to not be self-conscious about her piercing gaze, until she seemed to come to a decision, releasing a small sigh.
"If the headmaster decries your mysterious concerns important enough for me to know the details of, I am sure he will discuss them with me himself," she said, moving around the desk. "Good night Potter, and please do not waste the headmaster's time. He desperately needs his beauty rest."
"I heard that, Minerva!" Dumbledore said in a tone of feigned offence, entering the office and trading wry smiles with McGonagall as she moved past him to the door, closing it behind her. Dumbledore gestured Harry into a seat in front of the desk as he took his own.
"Now, what's on your mind, Harry?"
"Sir, did you perhaps hear about my post being intercepted earlier this summer?" Harry started with. Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes, I did catch wind of that," Dumbledore said. "I made some inquiries to the Ministry on your behalf, which I was told you did as well, and learned as little as you did."
Harry moved forward in his seat. "Well, I did eventually figure out what was going on…"
He spent some time then filling Dumbledore in on Dobby and the different attempts the elf had made to keep Harry from returning to Hogwarts this year, including the reason given by Dobby—that someone was planning to make terrible things happen at Hogwarts this year. Harry had not been expecting to get much of a reaction from Dumbledore, who had faced and prevailed against so much worse than idle warnings from a house-elf in his time, but when he was done sharing all of the details, Dumbledore looked at him for a few seconds before sitting back in his chair and shifting his gaze to a high corner of the office, steepling his fingers and thinking.
Harry was in no hurry for any kind of response, having already achieved his intent of letting Dumbledore know as soon as possible about what he had heard. So now, he simply sat and let the headmaster process the information. After a very long time, Dumbledore seemed to realize how long he had been silent, and spun his chair back around to face Harry.
"First off, thank you for bringing this to my attention. Although we only discussed coming to me to report any issues with your scar hurting, I appreciate you considering this matter important enough to talk to me about as well. I also agree with you that it was wise to wait until you could speak to me in person about it, all things considered. Unfortunately, I also agree that this was worth my attention. As much as I would like to dismiss the concern, the circumstances compel me to — quite frankly — worry."
Like Dumbledore, Harry had an ironic feeling towards this—relieved to hear that the concern was warranted.
"As someone with house-elves in his family, I assume you understand how strange it is for one of them to subvert their loyalty to deliver such a warning. I agree with you that it seems more likely than not that it was done in earnest, especially considering the incident at King's Cross, which I consider something of a desperate move with no apparent benefit to anyone except for you, if there truly is a plan for something nefarious to take place at Hogwarts."
At that statement, his face showed a small burst of anger, and he stood abruptly and walked to Fawkes, stroking his feathers and earning a trill of relaxing Phoenix song. Dumbledore took a calming breath and turned back towards Harry.
"I wish I could tell you to which family Dobby belongs. The list of potential candidates can be narrowed down somewhat based on wealth and stature, but no official records are kept of house-elf ownership. For all we know, this could be an obscure, old family whose children have not attended Hogwarts in several decades. From what you've told me, there is a possibility that the perceived threat, in Dobby's mind at least, involves you specifically, but it might also not, and Dobby may simply admire you so strongly that he wants to protect you against the possibility of it affecting you inadvertently."
Harry nodded, agreeing with the logic wholeheartedly and finding it incredibly frustrating. Last year, he had known that Quirrell was up to no good, thanks to his visions. This year, he had nothing. Before he left home, he had even tried meditating with both wands in his hands, but it seemed that as he grew more and more in control of his magic, those bouts of acute magic were growing less frequent—another unenjoyable irony.
Dumbledore made plans to speak with the staff about the potential threat, vague as it was, keeping Harry's name out of it for now. For his part, Harry promised to report to Dumbledore any new information that came his way on the topic, agreeing to go through Professor McGonagall whenever he felt he needed the headmaster's ear.
"Hopefully, it'll end up being nothing," Harry said as Dumbledore saw him out of the office.
"If hopes and dreams were chips and beans, then we would never go hungry," Dumbledore responded airily, which Harry found to be an incredibly jarring end to what had been a very serious conversation.