Harry Potter stood in the doorway of the Great Hall, flanked by his closest friends, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Ginny Weasley. The Hall was alive with twinkling candles and a thousand stars sparkled through the enchanted ceiling, several of the resident ghosts floated about the room but it was otherwise empty. The long tables had been set with the golden plates and goblets used during the start-of-term Welcoming Feast. The staff table was similarly set, with crystal goblets and golden plates, the Head Master’s high-backed golden gilded chair sat waiting for the powerful wizard who guided and protected the school to arrive.

Dressed in their school uniforms and robes, the teenagers hesitated at the threshold. Harry was particularly nervous about the returning students, who even now were on the Hogwarts Express steaming into Hogsmeade Station. His summer vacation, all of theirs really, had been eventful. From the secret training sessions to improve his growing abilities, to learning to Apparate, to discovering the ability to communicate with his dead godfather had occupied the holidays for Harry and his friends. It seemed as if they had spent the summer struggling to stay one step ahead of the Dark Lord and his increasingly blatant activities, his obsession with killing Harry.

Just yesterday morning, Voldemort had attempted to breech the defenses of Hogwarts itself, trying to kill both Severus Snape and Harry. Harry had managed to save Snape from the killing curse that the Dark Lord had aimed at his Death Eater-turned-spy. He had not been so fortunate, and had been hit in the back by the Avada Kedavra that Voldemort flung as him as Harry grasped the scarlet-gold tail feathers of the Phoenix who appeared to rescue him. As Fawkes had lifted them toward the Gryffindor Tower, Harry had carried an unconscious Snape, hanging suspended from the grip Harry had on his ankle, and the killing curse had hit him.

What had been a crushing blow to those who cared about him and were watching at that moment, turned in to joyful disbelief as Harry regained consciousness in the Gryffindor common room with minor scorch marks on his head and back. How he had survived, again, a battle with Voldemort was less a concern to Harry than the rage of the Potions Master when he learn that Harry had held him upside down, his robes falling to his nose, and his silken underwear displayed for all to see. Harry was still nervously waiting for that blow to hit.

Soft, warm fingers slid into his cold hand, and Harry looked down in to the bright brown eyes of Ginny Weasley. She smiled up at him, he felt a tug at the corner of his mouth as he tried to smile back, and settled for squeezing her hand gently. Dumbledore had warned them that among the returning students would be those recruited by their own parents as spies for Voldemort. Certain names had instantly sprung to mind: Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott. Harry wondered how many others there might be within the ranks of the Slytherins.

“Alright, Harry?” Remus Lupin quiet voice came from behind him. Harry turned his head and a smile lit his face at the sight of his new godfather and the tall aged wizard beside him. Albus Dumbledore was resplendent in sapphire blue robes, richly embroidered with golden crescent moons, Remus clad in new, but simple robes of soft charcoal gray.

“Yeah, just a little nervous, I guess.” Harry said, as Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You will be fine, Harry. As far as I know, word has not leaked out about what happened Saturday morning, so anyone with that knowledge could only have gotten it from Lord Voldemort.” Dumbledore told him, with a reassuring pat on his arm. “Now, why don’t you all go wait at the top of the stairs, as I believe the first carriages are coming up now.”

They moved towards the Entrance Hall and stood at the top of the great stone stairs. Harry could see that Dumbledore was right as usual, and he could see the first thestral pulling a carriage up to the bottom of the steps. Ginny squeezed his hand and looking down Harry saw her jerk her head toward Ron and Hermione. Looking over, Harry grinned when he saw that Hermione was holding Ron’s hand, and Ron had a strange, wooly look on his face. He looked back down at Ginny, who just giggled, and smiled.

“Harry! Ginny! Ron! Hermione!” Neville Longbottom ran up the stairs to greet them all enthusiastically, followed by a steady stream of fellow sixth year students, Gryffindor and other houses. The sheer numbers of group soon carried them in the Great Hall and they all found themselves seated at the long house table surrounded by all of their returning friends.

As the large hall filled with returning students, the noise level grew to deafening proportions. Many Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw sixth and seventh year students greeted the Gryffindors with shouts of welcome. The Slytherins seemed to filter in last, Draco Malfoy at the head of the group, flanked by his hulking cronies Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. He scanned the room with a sneering look of arrogance, his eyes stumbling when they came about Harry and his friends at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by returning members of the DA. Malfoy turned his back on the group and swept off to the Slytherin table on the other side of the room.

Harry glanced toward the staff table and was surprised to find that it had filled, with the exception of Professor McGonagall, who was with the first years. He saw that Remus was seated to the left side of the Headmaster and McGonagall’s empty seat to his right. Remus caught his eye and smiled, Harry happily returned it. Further down the table, Harry was startled to see Alastor Moody sitting beside Professor Snape. Snape was wearing a parody of smile, filled with triumph and superiority, his eye fixed on the Slytherin House table. Looking over, Harry caught sight of the pale, disbelieving face of Draco Malfoy staring back. Suddenly, it dawned on Harry that Draco had thought Snape was dead, told this by either his father or Voldemort.

“May I have your attention, please?” Professor McGonagall was saying, the Sorting hat and stool at the front of the room, a line of first years, pale and nervous, standing in front of the staff table.

Harry readily remembered his first year, and how scared he was, as he stood in front of the whole school, terrified that he would fail whatever task was in front of him. One of the first year boys at the end of the line looked like he was going to faint or vomit. Catching his eye, Harry smiled at him encouragingly and received a trembling smile in return.

A rip in the brim of the Sorting Hat opened and it began to sing:

When this school was built

By the wise founders four

Each had their own beliefs

On what students should learn more.

Give me those purebloods of cunning

Slytherin cried with pleasure;

Those of intelligence and cleverness

Said Ravenclaw, I treasure;

Those of brave heart and courage

I will take, said Gryffindor;

And good Hufflepuff said

The rest I will teach loyalty and more.

So I sort you, as I must

To fill the houses with living soul;

Divided by strengths you may be

But all parts of the greater whole.

The houses must unite, stand together

Or I fear, face a bitter toll.

And again I must warn you, quite

That the struggle has already begun;

Between those of darkness and light.

An attack on hallow halls thwarted,

Battlements unbreeched, and solid stood.

Uncommon allies standing together

For the common good.

Some have already been battle tested,

Making the choice between easy and right.

Tested and true, follow the one

That shines like a golden light.

Show to all in word and deed,

To treasure lives, love is strength

This is my warning all take heed,

For your strength comes from within,

Together we have might apart we splinter.

Now let the sorting begin.

There was silence in the Great Hall after the song was over, and then the whispers started, with many heads turned toward the Gryffindor table. Harry sat up straight, his head high, his eyes locked on the Sorting hat, and his cheeks flaming. He wasn’t sure whether anyone was going to figure out what happened from the song, but he was proud of what he’d done. Ginny’s hand slipped into his under the table reassuringly. Harry turned and looked down at her with a smile, and then met Ron and Hermione’s eyes across the table. They both grinned at him like the co-conspirators they were, and Harry grinned back Tugging Ginny a little closer, her hand tucked into his, Harry settled back to watch the sorting.

The long line of first years was sorted quickly into their respective houses, and Harry cheered as loud as the rest for each new Gryffindor. He smiled in greeting to those who passed him to dive into an empty seat of the table, knowing they just wanted to disappear from sight after been watched by the whole school. Finally, the stool and hat were whisked away and Professor McGonagall took her seat beside Dumbledore.

The Headmaster stood, and the room fell silent. He smiled out at them, spreading his arms as if embrace them all. “To all our newcomers: Welcome! To our returning students: Welcome Back! Now is the time to eat, not talk. Tuck in!”

With a wave of his hand, food appeared on all the tables, and for a long time, nothing was heard but the sound of cutlery on the golden plates. The ghosts flew in to the room from all angles, each of the house ghosts skimming over their tables, Sir Nicholas deMimsy-Porpington, the Gryffindor ghost, settled between Dennis and Colin Creevy. He was dressed in a high collared shirt with a stiff ruff to hold his almost severed head up.

“Hello, Sir Nicholas!” Neville Longbottom greeted him enthusiastically.

Harry looked over at Neville, and was pleased to see a new, more confident air about him. “Hey, Neville! Did you get a new wand?” He called.

“Oh yes!” Neville nodded, reaching into his robes, and pulling out a gleaming new dark colored wand. “Isn’t it a beauty!”

“Yeah, Neville, that’s great!” Harry told him with a pang. Neville’s old wand, his father’s actually, had been snapped in two during the battle with the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries.

Desserts of every kind finished off the feast, and Harry found his eyelids drooping as he sat listening to Ron describe Fred and George’s Shoppe in Diagon Alley, with all the sweets and gadgets they had invented. He was waxing poetically about the Extendable Ears when Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

Harry opened his eyes as the Headmaster stood waiting for the hall to quiet down.

“A few start of term notices: For the first year students and all returning students, the Forbidden Forest is a very dangerous place and off limits to all students, without exception.” Dumbledore cast an eye toward the Gryffindor table where Ron, Hermione and Harry sniggered softly. “Also. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, asked me to remind you that there is to be no magic performed in the corridors between classes, and for an extensive list of the other items banned in the corridors, please see the notice fastened on his office door.”

“We are pleased to have this year two Divination teachers, Professors Trelawney and Firenze sharing the duties. Professor Alastor Moody is filling the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, with assistance from Professor Remus Lupin, who is also serving as a special assistant to me.” Dumbledore’s clear blue eyes swept over the students sitting quietly at the tables. “I feel I must also emphasis what the Sorting Hat said, er, sang, earlier. Each of you has been sorted in to one of the four houses based on your strengths: Slytherin for cunning; Ravenclaw for cleverness; Hufflepuff for loyalty; and Gryffindor for courage. Build on your strengths and rely on those of your fellow students, to strengthen yourselves and Hogwarts.”

“Now that we have finished our splendid feast, it is time to go to bed, so we are all ready for classes bright and early tomorrow.” Dumbledore said, dismissing the students.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny jumped up with hurried goodbyes, and went to collect the first years. Harry watched as the hall emptied, and felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

“Alright, Harry.” Remus Lupin asked, his alert gray eyes searching his face as Harry looked up.

“I’m fine, Remus, just don’t want to get trampled.” Harry stood and walked with him towards the Entrance Hall.

“You truly feel alright, though, Harry? You are still a bit peaky looking.” Remus asked, as they climbed the marble stairs.

“I’m fine, just a little tired is all.” Harry looked around as students passed them on both sides. “Strange to have all these people around, isn’t it?”

Remus laughed. “Yeah, the castle feels crowded tonight, after all these weeks of having it to ourselves.” Remus stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady, wishing Harry a good night as he disappeared inside.

The common room was empty, and Harry continued up to the dormitory. Neville, Dean, and Seamus were happily chattering away, but Ron was still not there. Harry greeted the others and listened absently to the others as he got undressed and slid into bed. He took off his glasses, and left his hangings open on the side of his bed nearest Ron’s, but dropped immediately off to sleep.

It was an old nightmare that had him sitting straight up in bed, in a cold sweat with his chest heaving. The flash of green light and his parents screaming as Voldemort killed them fifteen years ago. Harry saw that Ron had come to bed and was snoring gently, as were his other dorm mates. Taking deep breathes, Harry cleared his mind, smoothed the walls in his brain, and tried to go back to sleep. He dozed fitfully off and on until morning, but never truly when back to sleep.

Finally Harry gave up trying, got up and dressed quietly. His head ached dully and his eyes were gritty with tiredness as he made his way down to the Great Hall. It seemed his appetite had gone the way of his sleep, but Harry sipped on orange juice, and tried to eat a piece of toast. The Hall slowly filled up around him, and he managed a smile when Ron and Hermione slid in on either side of him.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Hermione asked immediately, helping herself to scrambled eggs and bacon.

“I didn’t sleep very well, that’s all,” Harry assured her.

Professor McGonagall walked up. “Class schedules, Potter here’s yours. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley.” She turned to leave, and walked into Ginny, who gave her a quick hug. “Ginny! Good morning, here is yours too.” A little pink in the cheeks, McGonagall moved down the table.

Ginny settled in across from Harry as they all looked at their schedules.

Harry scowled at the schedule in his hand. “Potions! I have to start my week with Potions first thing Monday morning, with Potions on Wednesday, and double Potions last thing on Friday afternoon! This N.E.W.T. level stuff may just kill me!”

Hermione grabbed his schedule. “Yes, but look at the rest of this, Harry, Charms, Transfigurations, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and look, 2 afternoons a week for ‘advanced training’! This is an easy schedule!”

Harry grabbed it back. “Well, what do your schedules look like?” He grumbled at her.

“Looks like I have about the same thing, Harry, except I have Herbalology and History of Magic those afternoons.” Ron answered him between bites of sausage.

“Me too, but I also have Arithmancy.” Hermione told him.

“Well, Mum always says that misery loves company.” Ron announced, gathering his things, and standing. “What are we waiting for?”

The only good thing about sixth year Potions was that there were only about a dozen students from all houses in the class. Unfortunately, one of them was Draco Malfoy, who sneered at them as Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked in.

“At least Crabbe and Goyle are too thick to be here.” Ron said under his breath, as they sat down.

Snape swept into the dungeon classroom with his usual black scowl and swish of robes. Harry couldn’t help but smile, the picture of Snape upside down flickered in his head.

“Something funny, Potter? Five points from Gryffindor.” Snape snarled as he glared down at Harry from his desk.

Harry gritted his teeth and kept his face expressionless. He could feel both Ron and Hermione’s silent anger, but kept his eyes firmly locked on the chest area of the black robed figure. Snape was not going to get a raise out of him.

“In my N.E.W.T. level potions classes, you will find that you have more freedom to advance at your own pace, learn as much,” Snape glared at Harry. “Or as little as you would like. You are in this class because you have met my requirements and have chosen a career path that necessitates knowledge in potion making. It is your choice what you make of this opportunity.” He swept the room with cold glittering eyes. “We will start with a refresher on antidote potions.” He waved his wand. “Instructions on the board, begin.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione worked in silence, having exchanged meaningful looks. They had not been sure what to expect of Snape after Harry had saved his life Saturday morning. It appeared that he had resumed his normal unfair, foul ways.

“Potter, it says shred those mandrake roots, not chop them. Five points from Gryffindor.” Snape sneered, as he swept past.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry shook his head fractionally, resolved not to give Snape the satisfaction. He bent his head over his work, carefully re-shredding the roots. Hearing Draco Malfoy sniggering at the front of the classroom did nothing to help Harry’s dark mood, but he was not going to give Snape the satisfaction of knowing he was angry.

The class turned out to be slow torture for Harry and his friends, with Snape taking a total of twenty-five points from Gryffindor. Harry was just glad to escape and make his way to Transfiguration with Ron and Hermione before he lost his temper. They made their way out of the dungeons before both Ron and Hermione exploded in rage over Snape.

“I can’t believe that git!” Ron fumed. “Especially after what you did!”

“Why did you just sit there, Harry? Why didn’t you say anything?” Hermione demanded.

Harry stopped in his steps, both his friends bumping into his back, almost knocking him over. “No! I don’t want to make it worse!” He looked at their flushed faces, and smiled. “I figure he just put it all together and knows about me flashing his underpants to everyone. I appreciate your feelings, but I think if I can just stick it out, he’ll get over it sooner or later.” He rubbed his pounding temple. “I just hope I survive.”

Hermione put a hand on his arm. “Your scar hurting?” She asked quietly, leaning into him, examining his pale face.

“No, just a regular old headache,” Harry said with a laugh, hoping to calm her fears. Turning her towards the stairs, they continued up the marble staircase.

Transfiguration was almost a party after Potions, with Professor McGonagall giving a similar speech about N.E.W.T. level classes. They spent their first class reviewing various switching spells and cross species transfiguration, as they were going to start learning human transfiguration. Harry was able to forget the dull pounding in his head for a while, as he got wrapped up in the lesson.

“I would like a foot long essay on the inherent dangers of human transfiguration, due next lesson.” Professor McGonagall told the class as she dismissed them. “Potter, Weasley, a word if you please.”

Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged his shoulders, and they walked up to McGonagall’s desk, Hermione at their heels. Professor McGonagall glared at them a moment, before her face softened into a smile. “Do you think between you, with Miss Granger’s help no doubt, that the two of you could manage to captain the Gryffindor Quidditch team?” She said gruffly, but with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh, yes, Professor!” Hermione answered for them, as Ron’s mouth was hanging open and Harry was still trying to believe what he had heard.