The remainder of the summer unfolded quietly for Harry Potter. The young wizard spent his days in the squares of Diagon Alley—there were three of them—or at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, deeply engrossed in his books. Whether he was getting a head start on his Hogwarts subjects or delving into studies of both Muggle and magical medicine, Harry found solace in reading.
On the first of September, around nine-thirty in the morning, the green-eyed wizard made his way down to the public area of the Leaky Cauldron for breakfast, his belongings in tow. To his surprise, the pub was not very busy, which made placing and receiving his order a breeze. After enjoying a hearty meal, courtesy of Tom the bartender, Harry used the public Floo network in the pub to arrive at Platform 9¾.
With nearly an hour before the Hogwarts Express departed, the platform was relatively empty, giving Harry the freedom to choose his seat. After a brief moment of contemplation, he settled into a compartment near the center of the train. He cast a few simple charms on the door to ensure minimal disturbances before returning to his anatomy book. He still needed to find Draconica to deliver the remainder of her birthday present, but he decided that could wait until the train was in motion and everyone was comfortably seated.
About thirty minutes later, Hermione joined him, diving into a Transfiguration book after stowing her bags in the luggage compartment. A short while later, the last member of the Gryffindor "Golden Trio," Neville Longbottom, appeared. After exchanging hellos and thanking Harry for his birthday gift, the slightly pudgy boy procured a pot containing a magical plant from his trunk to begin his own work.
About an hour after the Hogwarts Express pulled away from King's Cross, Harry excused himself from their compartment to seek out his Slytherin friend. Despite her insistence that they were merely allies, he thought of Draconica as more than that. After checking several compartments in the cars behind his, he finally located her with her friends Daphne and Tracey. He could sense a charm around their compartment akin to the one he had placed on his own, but he bypassed it easily, as the charm's caster didn't see him as an unwanted guest.
"Ladies, may I have a moment of your time?" Harry said while knocking on the door before entering. Draconica nodded, knowing why he had come. "Ms. Malfoy, as promised on May's last day, here's the second half of your birthday gift." He presented her with the enchanted quills, which would never run out of ink and had indestructible metal quills. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks as he added, "I hope you like them."
"Thank you," Draconica said, placing the quills in her robe's chest pocket. Glancing around the compartment, Harry sighed lightly. "I shouldn't take up more of your time, ladies. See you at school." With that, he departed, leaving the girls behind.
"Someone has a crush on the Gryffindor 'golden boy'?" Tracey teased, eyeing the momentary slip of Draconica's usual composure as she accepted Harry's gift. Draconica shot her a glare.
"Why does everyone think there's something going on between me and Potter? We're just associates," she replied, annoyance creeping into her voice. Tracey laughed and chimed in about how denying one's feelings was unhealthy.
About fifteen minutes after Harry returned to his friends, the door burst open—his charm had evidently failed to keep out unwanted guests—as Crabbe and Goyle stomped in.
"Potter, I'm talking to you, dammit!" shouted a voice that made Harry momentarily forget about his charm's failure and focus on the intruders. Presiding between the two larger boys was a younger student in Slytherin robes, a blond with an air of superiority about him that resembled a young Lucius Malfoy. Had Harry not crossed paths with Lucius in Diagon Alley this summer, he'd have found it hard to believe this boy was related to Draconica.
"Sorry, did you say something?" Harry asked casually as he bookmarked his page and closed his book. Annoying a Malfoy heir wasn't exactly wise, but he was too indifferent to care at that moment.
"I said, ditch these losers and be my friend, Potter. Surely, you realize that associating with a squib and a Mudblood isn't good for you. You're already starting to lose your hearing," the blond snob retorted, only serving to stoke Harry's anger—he had spent his childhood alone and was fiercely protective of the few friends he had.
"How about you get lost instead?" Harry shot back, his voice laced with controlled fury. "And take your cronies with you." The Malfoy heir was not pleased.
"When my father hears about this, Potter, he will—" the blond began, but Harry interrupted, lifting him and his sidekicks out of the compartment before closing the door and locking it.
"Who was that?" Harry asked his friends, gesturing to where the intruders had stood moments before. "I can tell the blond is a Malfoy, but I don't recall Draconica mentioning she had a brother. Not that I've asked much about her family life…"
"You're spot on, mate. That brat is indeed a Malfoy heir. His name is Basilius, and, as you guessed, he's starting Hogwarts this year," Neville explained, pausing in his own gardening notes. "He's spoiled rotten by his father because he's the next lord of the house, while Draconica is simply seen as a means to secure alliances with other houses—just tolerated by their father."
"That's incredibly barbaric!" Hermione interjected, and Neville nodded in agreement.
"I agree, but the Malfoy family is notoriously dark—especially the patriarch—and they are fiercely patriarchal, more so than most noble houses. Daughters in the family are valued far less than sons. But don't assume this is always the case. The Blacks, for example, are darker than the Malfoys and very traditional, yet their daughters have always been cherished," Neville elaborated. Harry remained silent but found some understanding in the plight of the blond witch.
The dark mood that Neville's lesson had cast over the compartment lingered, bolstered by the heavy clouds that seemed poised for rain. Yet Harry and his friends were ready to return to the familiar halls of Hogwarts. This time, like all older students, they traveled in horseless carriages to the castle. Strangely, they were the only ones in theirs, a different experience from the previous year. Additionally, they were allowed entry into the Great Hall right away, without waiting for Professor McGonagall's signal.
As Harry scanned the professors' table, he noticed only one new face—a blond man dressed in forget-me-not blue robes, who seemed preoccupied with his own reflection. Could he be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? Maybe Quirrell wasn't so bad after all.
Once everyone had settled, Professor McGonagall left the Great Hall to retrieve the first years for sorting. A few moments later, she returned with a group of eleven-year-olds in plain robes. The Sorting Hat sang a new song before the sorting began. While the initial excitement of the sorting was engaging, it soon waned. However, a few notable students captured Harry's attention: Luna Lovegood—with her odd radish earrings—was sorted into Ravenclaw; Basilius Malfoy entered Slytherin; and Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, was placed into Gryffindor, casting curious glances Harry's way. Good thing all the seats around him were occupied, or he would have had to deal with a lovestruck fan throughout the feast.
Once the first years were sorted, Dumbledore rose to address the gathering about the Forbidden Forest and the list of prohibited items displayed on Filch's office door.
"Additionally, before you enjoy the magnificent feast prepared for you: this year, your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be none other than the honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League and Order of Merlin third class, Gilderoy Lockhart." The man in blue stood and flashed a wide grin, drawing groans from many boys, including Harry and Neville, while the girls swooned around him.
Lockhart then delivered a rather lengthy speech, during which it became glaringly obvious to those paying attention that he had little understanding of how or what to teach in DADA. Nevertheless, he received a fair amount of applause. After a considerable hush fell over the Great Hall, Dumbledore announced the feast would begin.
Once dinner concluded, students returned to their respective common rooms, while Harry headed upstairs to ward his bed, drawing on lessons learned the year before.
The following morning marked the real start of the school year at Hogwarts. As usual, Harry woke up early, making his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, immersing himself in his morning reading while his housemates sluggishly rose from their slumber.
Around half-past eight, all Gryffindor students had assembled for Professor McGonagall to distribute timetables. A quick glance at his own revealed that Friday would again be his most dreaded day:
Monday: Double DADA (S) – Lunch – Double Charms (R)
Tuesday: Herbology (R) – Charms (S) – Lunch – Transfiguration (H) – History of Magic (R)
Wednesday: History of Magic (H) – Herbology (S) – Lunch – Charms (R) – Transfiguration (S)
Thursday: Double Transfiguration (R) – Lunch – Astronomy (All) at 11 PM
Friday: Lunch – Double Potions (S) – DADA (S)
At least he wouldn't have to endure Lockhart until Friday again—the man was instinctively unsettling, perhaps due to his narcissistic demeanor or his incessant need for attention. In any case, Harry had three full days to prepare himself for the reality that this man would be his professor for the year.
Students rushed back to their dormitories for their necessary textbooks, but Harry took his time finishing his breakfast. Thanks to several useful enchantments, his supplies were featherlight and stored in his trunk.
Ron Weasley rushed past him, still chewing on bacon, clearly having learned the importance of being on time. Yet fate seemed determined to punish the boy, as he collided at the Great Hall's exit with Basilius Malfoy and his entourage.
"Out of my way, blood traitor!" the blond boy spat, and Crabbe pushed Ron aside, resulting in a faint crack as Ron's wand snapped in his pocket. Professor McGonagall appeared moments later, scolding the Slytherins for their actions. However, that did little to help Ron with his predicament.
Twenty minutes later, just ten minutes before classes were set to begin, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws—including Harry and Ron, nursing his injured wand with spellotape—gathered outside the greenhouses for Herbology.
They halted on the lawn, waiting for their professor, who approached alongside Lockhart, chattering animatedly. Judging by Professor Sprout's expression, she did not appreciate her colleague's company.
"Greenhouse three, everyone," she directed, causing a wave of anticipation amongst the students—the third greenhouse boasted much more interesting and, at times, dangerous plants than their previous year's lessons.
As the class filed inside, Lockhart finally spotted Harry, much to the latter's annoyance.
"Bless me, that's really Harry Potter!" Lockhart exclaimed loudly, trying to pull Harry from the crowd. "Come here, my boy; I've wanted to speak with you for ages!" Unfortunately for the new DADA professor, Harry had no intention of chatting and deftly slipped into the greenhouse, finding solace from the relentless adoration.
The bell signaling the start of the first period rang, providing a final reprieve from Lockhart's overbearing presence—the man had to return to the castle to prepare for his own class.
Professor Sprout stood center stage in the greenhouse aisle, flanked by a bench full of pots and a box of earmuffs at her feet.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts and to your second year of Herbology," she began. "This year, we'll be studying mandrakes." She gestured toward the rows of pots behind her. "Can anyone tell me what a mandrake is and where it can be used?" Almost instantly, Hermione and Neville's hands shot up in the air...