The train ride to Hogwarts was a blast. Harry's compartment was filled to bursting for most of the ride, what with the twins, Neville, Ron and Hermione all in there for at least part of it. The twins left about halfway through the ride to go visit with Lee Jordan and their other, older friends, and Neville had to leave for a bit once to go chasing after an escapee Trevor. Ginny had opted to sit in a compartment with some of her agemates.

The real surprise showed up about five minutes after the twins left. Draco and his ... minions. For half a heartbeat, Harry was worried they were there to cause trouble, especially since Harry hadn't actually seen Draco since school ended last year (he'd not been there when Narcissa and Draco swore their Unbreakables), but then the differences registered. Draco didn't have the arrogant sneer on his face, nor did he (or Crabbe or Goyle) seem braced for a fight, verbal, physical, or magical. Matter of fact, Draco looked ... almost hesitant.

It took Harry an effort of will to not snap at Draco. "Yes, Draco?"

"May I join you?" Draco asked.

Harry glanced at Ron, Hermione, and Neville, and, seeing no objection, nodded. "Sure." It took a bit of rearranging, but they managed to get all three boys into the compartment.

Draco eyed Harry for a long moment once he'd sat down, then finally spoke again. "I would like to formally apologize for last year." He started.

Harry held a hand up. "Draco, neither of us were exactly at our best, ok? So let's just pretend last year didn't happen and try to start over, all right?" Then he offered his hand. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter."

Ron and Hermione were looking at Harry like he was ever so slightly insane, while Neville just gave his head an amused shake. Draco stared at him for a minute in confusion before accepting his hand. "Draco Malfoy." He said, then nodded towards his two shadows. "This is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle."

Of course, being willing to 'start over' did not make the rest of the ride go perfectly smoothly or make them all fast friends, but it was a start. By the time they got to Hogwarts, though, the worst of the awkwardness seemed to have passed. The next day, after their first Transfiguration lesson of the year, Harry approached McGonagall.

"Professor ... is there a rule saying we have to sit with our own Houses during meals?" He asked.

McGonagall blinked. "Only for feasts and important events." She said. "Why do you ask?"

"Because Draco is trying to get along with me, and Neville has friends in Hufflepuff, and ... " He hesitated for a moment, wrinkling his nose. "Much as I might hate it, being who I am, and being seen with Slytherins ... well, people might start to realize they aren't all bad." Severus wasn't. Draco, Vince and Greg weren't either. And according to them, most of their yearmates were in the same general category. Draco had only identified a few Slytherins that were definite Voldemort sympathizers (all of them sixth or seventh year students), though he told them there might be others.

McGonagall nodded. "It will take a lot to break the association in people's minds, when it comes to that House, but you certainly might put a dent in that sort of thinking." She admitted.

Not for the first time was she glad Severus was Harry's guardian, because Severus had been right ... there was more than a dollop of Slytherin in Harry's makeup. Some people would be horrified to think their precious Golden Boy was so 'tainted', but McGonagall was practical enough to admit that Gryffindor bravery did not solve all the world's problems. And McGonagall was honest enough to admit that while she had occasional bouts of cunning (like last year when she managed to get the badly needed new brooms approved finally) she did not normally, naturally, think along typically Slytherin lines. Severus, however, did, and would be able to teach Harry the tricks ... and would know what to look for to indicate Harry was up to something mischievous.

She gave Harry a small smile. "So yes, Harry, you may sit with whomever you please, at whichever table you please, except for feasts and important events."

"Thanks, Professor." Harry said with a grin, and then took off.

The next morning, Harry, followed by a slightly reluctant but determined Hermione and a somewhat more reluctant Ron (who was still having issues with the whole 'Slytherins are evil' thing), plunked himself down at the Slytherin table across from Draco at breakfast. Draco gave him a thoroughly startled look, then shot a look at the Head table. Seeing no sign of impending doom from that quarter, he relaxed.

Of course, by then, the entire Hall was buzzing with speculation and gossip. Why was The Boy Who Lived sitting with Slytherins? The Slytherins looked as confounded as everyone else, and those nearest Harry and company were openly staring at them. A few looks were more than slightly hostile, but Harry ignored that, and started talking to Draco.

Harry repeated the act, this time with Neville accompanying them, at the Hufflepuff table at lunchtime. And, despite the fact that none of them really knew anyone in Ravenclaw, again at that table at dinner. Though that trip paid unexpected dividends, in the form of a very quiet, shy, odd blonde girl named Luna Lovegood. She was more than a little entertaining, with her tales of creatures that probably didn't exist, and she seemed to be almost pathetically grateful for the companionship.

It took almost a week for people to stop talking about the way Harry and company rotated through the four tables, but it only took three days for some of the braver and more gregarious to follow their lead. By the time the gossip died down, the chances of spotting all four Houses at one table at any given meal were pretty good. Draco and his two shadows got a few suspicious looks the first time they came to the Gryffindor table rather than Harry going to the Slytherins, but by that point people had been swapping tables for a day or two and the Gryffindors seemed content to leave it at just suspicious looks.

That first week of school was a heck of a lot of fun for Harry because of the table-swapping. He'd discovered that he rather liked confounding people and their expectations of him. When he'd confessed as much to Severus, he'd had the pleasure of seeing Severus laugh rather hard.

The only fly in the ointment was Lockhart. The guy was completely useless, obsessed with Harry, and had every girl in the castle drooling over him. Harry was hard put to refrain from hexing the idiot into the next century, since the man seemed to think that Harry was a young up-and-coming celebrity that needed Lockhart's guidance and wisdom. Harry had to bite back a comment to the effect that he'd been more famous than Lockhart could ever dream of being since he was a year old more than once.

To make matters worse, DADA class was a joke and a half. The first one had resulted in a dozen freed pixies wreaking havok in the classroom while Lockhart flailed around trying to look impressive and failing horribly, at least where the boys were concerned. Hermione maintained that he'd simply wanted to see what his class was capable of. The quiz that started the class, though, had been worth a ton of laughs. Harry had copied the questions onto a spare bit of parchment and showed them to Severus later. Severus' expression had been more than worth the effort.

The second DADA class late in the week had been both better and worse. Better in that Lockhart did not expect them to memorize his favorite brand of hair care products and other such useless trivia anymore, worse in that he now seemed to be under the impression that DADA was actually a threatre class, and he drafted an extremely reluctant Harry into reenacting one of his 'triumphs'.

At least he, Hermione, Neville, and the male Weasleys weren't losing out on learning what they needed to know when it came to DADA. Severus was as good as his word and taught them things. Ginny, being female, was disinterested in anything but drooling after Lockhart, well, that and squeaking in alarm every time Harry spoke to her, so she didn't come to the lessons.

The weekend was a relief after the chaos of the first week, as it was just Harry and Severus, down in their quarters. It was nice to sprawl in front of the fireplace on his cushion, working on his homework or just enjoying a bit of quiet time with Severus, which had been in short supply over the summer.

Life got interesting again on Sunday evening, when a forlorn, bruised and beaten Dobby popped in, staring at them with huge, sad and scared-to-death eyes for a moment before he popped back out.

Severus and Harry eyed each other for a long moment before Harry spoke. "Somehow, I think life just got a bit too interesting for comfort."

"Agreed." Severus said. "I need to inform the Headmaster about this." He got to his feet and Harry sat up, to be out of the way of the fireplace. Severus tossed a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace and called for the Headmaster's office.

"Severus!" The Headmaster did not look over-pleased to see Severus, but then, Harry rather suspected that the Headmaster knew this wasn't a social call. "What brings you to calling me?"

"I am afraid, Headmaster, that things are about to get interesting in the school. Dobby just popped in. If the look on his face was anything at all to go by, he's just been forced to deliver whatever mayhem Lucius has devised to its intended victim."

The Headmaster sighed. "I had hoped you were wrong about that." He admitted. "Do you have any idea what the trouble might be?"

"None, I'm afraid. Dobby was unable to say, and we could have played guessing games from now until the end of time before we hit on the correct scheme. We will be forced to wait and see. All we were able to discover was that it could potentially put Draco in danger, which is probably what drove Dobby to seek us out." The little elf had said it was trying to keep Harry safe, but Severus wasn't quite certain that was the truth, as it was entirely possible that Dobby had used twisted logic to get around whatever strictures Lucius had put him under.

"I shall have the ghosts and portraits keep an eye out for anything unusual." Dumbledore said. "The staff as well. Until something makes itself known, that is all we can do."

HPHPHP

The rest of September and all of October were almost ominously peaceful, at least where Hogwarts was concerned. The rest of the world, however, was not nearly so quiet.

The Wizengamot had finally gathered for its fall session, which promised to be the most contentious ever, as the men and women at that august gathering wrestled with the damage done their society by Crouch an company. The arguing about various laws got pretty damn heated, according to Augusta and Arthur, who owled Severus and Harry regular reports. The good news was that slowly, one by one, the laws were being repealed and abolished. Of course, to keep the conservatives and hardliners happy, there were a myriad of promises to 'reweigh the issues brought forth by these unjustly passed laws, and pass such laws as are deemed necessary at a later time'. What Augusta and Arthur weren't telling the opposition was that for the vast majority of the laws, they had precisely zero intention of ever bringing them up for review, as most of them were unbelievably nasty to those involved, like the law that made it illegal for a werewolf to hold a job where they'd have a lot of contact with the public. Harry had been dumbfounded when he found out about that particular law. No wonder Remus had looked so ragged! He, at least, was able to function in the Muggle world, and had managed to keep himself employed at least enough to not starve to death. Most werewolves weren't that lucky.

Of course the goings-on in the Wizengamot were gossip fodder for everyone. The Prophet had a lot of fun shrieking about the destruction of the Wizarding way of life, but most folks seemed happy to have things change ... it was only a small number of extremists that were balking. Unfortunately for everyone involved, that minority just happened to be the moneyed, politically elite.

Harry had mentally been cringing all of Halloween, remembering the troll last year and half expecting something nasty to happen this year. Much to his relief, nothing happened. The next day, a Sunday, he, Severus, Sirius and Remus headed to James and Lily's graves for a visit. It seemed somewhat odd to Harry at first, because they had the portrait now, and in a way it didn't really feel like they were actually dead, anymore. Sort of. Sometimes, the wizarding world could be confusing. Maybe that's why they came here ... to remind themselves that the two actually were dead, portrait notwithstanding.

The very next day, heading for Gryffindor tower after dinner (eaten at Hufflepuff table, today), Harry stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a low, menacing voice snarl. "... rip ... tear ... kill ... so hungry ... for so long ... kill ... time to kill ..."

"Shit!" He yelped. "Did you guys hear that?" He swung around to look at Neville, Ron, and Hermione, and only got a series of headshakes in response.

"I ... there's a voice ... c'mon! We need to ... " Harry took off after the voice, not thinking, completely ignoring the multiple requests to stop, slow down, and/or explain himself. They raced around a corner on the third floor only to come to a screeching halt, kicking up quite a spray of water, as there was a pool almost an inch deep across most of that part of the corridor. On an otherwise blank stretch of wall were some words in red. 'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, Beware.'. And hanging from a nearby torch bracket ... was none other than Mrs. Norris.

"Uh oh." Harry gulped. "This ... is not good."

"You can say that again." Hermione whispered, but she was not looking at the cat. She was, in fact, looking off to their right.

Harry finally tore his gaze away from the cat in time to spot what looked like half the school crowded into the adjoining corridor, and cringed.