Harry woke at dawn. He had slept soundly without dreams. All the beds in the dormitory, except Ron’s, were still occupied by his sleeping fellow students. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom were all back to study for NEWT exams. Ron was up and about to dress.

“I’m going to send an owl to the Burrow,” whispered Ron. “I forgot last night. I promised Mum that I’d send one as soon as we got here. I’ve been lying awake for hours.”

Ron had received a shock when he returned from his voyage, because of the worn look of his mother. When it was time to depart for Hogwarts, Ron had been reluctant to leave her again so shortly after coming back. Harry thought that Mrs Weasley had made Ron promise to write more for her son’s sake than for her own. He could not bring himself to explain this to Ron, however.

”I’ll come with you,” he said instead.

Ron took two steps at a time down to the Entrance Hall. Harry was close on his heels. The walls and the floor of the hall still bore marks of the curses and spells that had flown through the room three months ago. Cracks and burn marks had been left unembellished. Halfway across the floor, Ron stopped abruptly and stared at a pillar at the opposite side. That spot, Harry recalled with an unpleasant jolt in his chest, was where the Weasley family had gathered around Fred’s dead body. Ron approached slowly, staring at the piece of marble stone where his brother had lain.

“I shouldn’t have gone away,” said Ron in a stifled voice. “How could I be so stupid?”

“Ron, you needed to be happy with Hermione. You needed to go away. There was nothing wrong with that”, said Harry.

“I just put it out of my head“, whispered Ron. “I’ve not had two thoughts about Fred during our stay abroad. It was like everything we had been through just vanished.”

“I guess that’s the way it works when you travel”, said Harry. “I wouldn’t know much about it, of course, but I can imagine that horrible things that you’d rather not think about will disappear in the shade of newer, more pleasant experiences. That’s just the way it is, I suppose. You’re not to blame.” Harry laid a hand on Ron’s tense shoulder and squeezed it gently. 

At the Owlery, Ron explained that he had not yet actually composed the letter to Mrs Weasley and that it would take a while for him to do so. Harry’s stomach screamed for breakfast but he resigned to wait and settled down on an embrasure that gave over the north-west part of the Forbidden Forest. It stretched out far away, as if endless. The long shadows of the castle were cast over the lawn and into the brim of trees.  In the corner of his field of vision, Harry registered a movement of the branches of some red leaved bushes that grew at the entrance of a path that plunged into the forest. An animal, perhaps, thought Harry. He moved to another embrasure facing south-west and watched Hagrid moving about in his garden plot, with Fang and the two Kangabbits at his side.

Harry paced impatiently around the tower where the owls were sitting on their perches, suspended in the air by hundreds, like a living pillar. A beautiful barn owl stared irritably at him. Harry had lost Hedwig a year ago. As he had not really prepared his return to Hogwarts this year at all, he had not considered buying a new one. It would be more for company than for use, though, for who did he have to write to? The Dursleys, Harry grinned to himself, would be terrified to receive owl post. He wanted nothing to do with them anyway.  And in case he wanted to write to the Weasleys, he could just add a note to one of Ron’s letters.

***

Hermione and Ginny waited for them at the breakfast table. Ron and Harry only just had time to shovel down some egg and bacon. As Harry stretched out a hand to grab a toast, it dissolved in his hand and the table was cleared. He swore to himself. He had not had time to finish his tea and he was still hungry, but breakfast was over, and Professor McGonagall started to distribute timetables. Ginny was in the same year as Harry now. Even if she had not completed her sixth year at Hogwarts, an individual inquiry by the teachers had given at hand that she had profited enough by her sixth year to move on. Professor McGonagall cleared her voice.

“Professor Snape has asked me to clarify that when it comes to the rules applying for the classrooms and the corridors, and alo concerning the range of punishments, they are the same as in Professor Dumbledore’s days. Decrees that were issued during the Voldemort regime are, of course, nullified”, said the Transfiguration teacher. An appreciative murmur rose.

“He’s trying to buy his popularity back”, said Zacharias Smith from Hufflepuff sourly. Harry who stood by his side muttered:

“But he’s never been popular, has he? Doesn’t stand a chance of building a new reputation either, by the way it looks.”

“You think we should give him a chance?” asked Zacharias, incredulous. Like everyone in Harry’s year he knew perfectly well how unfairly Snape had always treated Harry in class and what hatred had prevailed between teacher and pupil throughout the years. Harry shrugged.

“I’m only here for one year. I intend to focus on my work. I don’t care if he is loathed or lauded”, he said with studied indifference.

“But do you believe he was not a real Death Eater?” interposed a girl from Gryffindor. Several heads turned to Harry as he answered.

“I believe he was on Dumbledore’s side all along, yes”, said Harry.

“You believe that beyond a doubt?” sneered a broad-shouldered, spruce-looking boy from Slytherin.

“Beyond a doubt”, said Harry curtly, irritated by the implied accusation of naivety, and turned away.

Their first class was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. She kept them waiting for nearly half an hour before she turned up, breathless.

“I’m sorry - a lot of questions about the timetables... Too much to do...” she muttered to herself as she let them in. “This lesson is abridged. My apologies!” she said loudly to them as they settled down. “I’ll only have time to introduce you to the subjects we’ll study this year and run through what will be expected of you at your NEWT exam.”

Ron sighed deeply and sought eye contact with Harry who, however, had his eyes fastened on Professor McGonagall.

“The challenge this year will be to combine different modalities of magic with the art of Transfiguration and perform chains and patterns of magic as opposed to one-point instant magic. It requires a high level of concentration, swiftness and...” she stressed the point by looking severely at them “...thorough theoretical knowledge. You’ll not be able to slip through this year on talent only, let me make that clear.” Hermione narrowed her eyes with determination. She was a little red on her cheeks and looked at Professor McGonagall with ardour in her eyes. Meanwhile, Ron played absentmindedly with his quill.

Professor McGonagall released them from her class soon enough and they had an hour’s gap in their timetable, before a double Charms lesson with Professor Flitwick before lunch. No one reckoned they wanted to start to work quite yet, except Hermione who considered going to the library just to check out a few things that Professor McGonagall had said in class, but she was talked out of it and resolutely dragged away by Ron. They settled down under a radiant sun on the lawn at the inner court. It was crowded as no one was let out on the outer grounds. Harry spotted another of Mrs Steadfast’s Aurors - a short, but tough-looking young woman - stationed at the portal.

Ginny lay on the grass with her head in Harry’s lap. Her eyes were closed to the sun. Harry leaned his back against a pillar and stroked the soft, ginger hair from Ginny’s forehead gently. Hermione sat beside him equally relaxed. She smiled happily.

“It feels so good to be back,” she said. “It’ll be so restful just to work and study. Like a vacation, if you know what I mean? I long to go into that library... You can’t imagine...”

“You’re nuts, Hermione,” said Ron in a drawling voice. He was also lying on his back on the grass. “But then you always were when it came to books. I’m not surprised.”

“This year I’m behind”, said Hermione. “I just haven’t had time to read through the school books like I used to do.”

“Stop worrying, Hermione!” protested Ron.

“I feel the same as you, Hermione”, said Harry. “I feel unloaded. Really light, like I could run for miles and miles without becoming the least tired. I long to get started and to work just for the fun of it, just to learn, to get good... And no one’s life depends on my performance, you know? The world won’t collapse if I fail. Compared to last year, it’s a child’s play... I don’t reckon I’ll feel any pressure at all this year... because of the exams, I mean. It’s such a relief. A mark of favour, really.”

“You do want to succeed, though”, objected Hermione. “Your career depends on it. If you want to do something useful in life, you need to get good marks to enter the program you’re interested in or to get a good job.”

“Oh”, intervened Ginny, “don’t exaggerate. Look at Fred and George... or at George, I mean... He’s done really well with only some mediocre OWL exams. With a bit of determination and imagination you’ll succeed whatever you set our mind on.”

Fred and George had opened a joke shop after they left school in sixth year and it had become a success.

“The established paths for traditional careers are not necessarily the most interesting ones”, continued Ginny. “But I want to become an Auror anyhow, just like you Harry. I know I’m good at fighting. I’ll just take after my mother, won’t I? I mean - look what she did to Bellatrix.” Ginny was jeering, but there was no way of mistaking the strike of pride in her voice.

“You’re good... You’re really powerful, Ginny”, said Hermione. “You could choose from a lot of different careers. Ministry doesn’t tempt you, then?”

“No chance!” exclaimed Ginny. “When I see the amount of work my father puts there, for almost nothing in return… And Percy, with all his mementos and memorandums and whatever... It seems so dull! No, I’d like something more exciting.”

“I’m almost determined to go into law”, said Hermione. “There’s so much to do, if not in legislation, but in the implementation of laws. There’s an opportunity now, I believe, in the aftermaths of Voldemort, to push the rights of different minorities forth. I’m speaking of house elves, for example, forest people and magical creatures... and giants,” she added after a slight hesitation.

“You’ll be a great lawyer”, said Harry. He no longer made fun of her devotion to the house elves’ rights.

“It’s important that people accused of being involved with Voldemort are fairly judged. I’m glad that Kingsley Shacklebolt doesn’t rush things. Those found guilty should be sent to Azkaban, but you must take into account the prevailing circumstances. Take the Malfoys, for example. That’s really difficult to say. On the one hand it’s obvious they’re guilty, on the other hand you could tell that Draco was terrified of Voldemort, and his mother did help you out in the end… Oh... Ron’s asleep”, exclaimed Hermione. “I guess he has not quite readjusted to British time yet...”

“He told me that he lay awake part of the night. He wanted to send an owl to Mrs Weasley. That’s why we were late for breakfast this morning”, Harry told her.

“He’s worried”, said Hermione quietly. “It hit him unawares when we came back.” Ginny rose brusquely from Harry.

“I’m going to have a word with the Patil twins”, she said determinedly. Harry watched her scampering away. Hermione looked taken aback.

“Ron’ll be okay eventually, as time goes by... as will Mrs Weasley... and Ginny...” Harry said uncertainly, as if trying to convince himself. Hermione sighed sadly. After a short silence, she returned to their prior discussion.

“What about your career, Harry? You could choose anything, couldn’t you? They would love to have you at the Ministry. You’re a favourite with Kingsley already. But you still want to become an Auror, just like your parents, don’t you?” she said.

“I won’t take any short-cuts”, answered Harry. “I’ll only go where my true merits allow me to go. Listen Hermione, I need you to do me a favour...” Harry started to explain eagerly to her. “And there’s no need for anyone to know before we see how it works out, is there? They would just think it’s crazy”, he finished off.

“You seem really determined, Harry”, said Hermione and looked at him searchingly.

“I want to give it a try, that’s all.” Harry shrugged, averting his gaze.

***

The classroom where Charms with Professor Flitwick was held, was crowded. There were more people taking this subject than Transfiguration and students from all four Houses were united.

“For practical reasons...” Professor Flitwick shouted to make himself heard, and the chatter subsided. “First years are numerous so we had to split up their classes, which means doubled teaching time and we just cannot manage to split you up too. It won’t fit into the teachers’ already tight time tables. So we will focus on the theory in classes. You’ll take turns to practice under my guidance in groups and I’m sorry to say that you’ll have to practice a lot on your own. Oh... Miss Parkinson, you are ill seated. This is a nuisance... Wait...”

It took Professor Flitwick several minutes to enlarge the classroom and conjure up more tables and chairs. They ended up a little more comfortable, but the classroom was more of an assembly hall now, than a room.

“For the first weeks, we’re going to study Obliviating charms”, said Flitwick. Ron, who had until then been dazed by sleep, stretched his back and said in a less than quiet voice:

“Just ask Hermione. She knows everything about Obliviating. After what she did to her parents...” Hermione tried to hush Ron, but Flitwick turned his head in their direction.

“Is it true, Miss Granger, that you have performed Obliviating charms on your own?” asked the teacher.

“Yes, Sir, it is.” Hermione coloured a little.

“Good, I’ll come back to you then, and you’ll tell us”, said Flitwick.

Hermione shot Ron a reproaching glance.

“First of all, I want to hear from you what uses of Obliviating that you know of?” Professor Flitwick looked down the room. “Yes, Mr Smith?”

“The Ministry officers use them on Muggles when they’ve witnessed magic by mistake. And at St Mungo’s hospital they use them as treatment on traumatised wizards and witches to lessen their suffering. My little sister needed an Obliviating treatment after she witnessed the Death Eaters kill my father.” Zacharias’ mouth twisted.

“I’m sorry to hear of your loss”, said Professor Flitwick gently. “Did the treatment do your sister any good?”

“I guess so.” Zacharias spoke hesitantly. “At least my sister calmed down. She was all in hysterics at first. They gave her a sleeping draught to begin with, to see if she would be calmer when she woke up, but she started screaming all over again, so they just did it - they Obliviated her. She’s a bit shut off from reality, if you know what I mean? And sometimes she seems confused. But she’s back from the hospital and she doesn’t have the fits anymore, so I guess it helped.” Harry thought Zacharias did not sound all too convinced.

“It is, I believe, a not altogether uncontroversial treatment. Healers have different opinions whether to use Obliviatings or not. To Obliviate a person is a serious matter”, said Professor Flitwich. “You should not do it lightly. It’s my personal belief that Obliviating charms, together with Legilimency, should be regulated harder by the Ministry. There are laws that forbid the degenerated uses of these practices, of course, but the implementation of those laws is poor. And as long as the Ministry itself uses Obliviatings so liberally, I don’t think its adverse effects carry any weight with them.”

The students looked surprised at his criticism of the Ministry of Magic.

“What I mean to say is that you should be very careful and think twice before you use them. Even in the more innocent contexts where you might use light charms only to modify part of a person’s short-term memory, it’s an ethical issue, because obviously you do it to have some kind of advantage over that person. This is, by the way, your first assignment for the term”, added Professor Flitwick.

Hermione bent forward to take notes.

“You’ll write an essay on the ethical implications of Obliviating Charms. Now, I know that, as a rule, Slytherin students in particular have great difficulties with this sort of subject, so do start working in due time and try to apply yourselves. You don’t need to take stands in your essays, but I want you to identify the different ethical problems and discuss them in your texts.” Groans were heard from the right side of the classroom where most of the Slytherin students were seated.

“I’m not sure they know what ’ethical’ means”, Harry whispered to Ron.

“I’m not sure I do either”, Ron said sulkily, angry at getting homework already.

“Now, Miss Granger. You’ve performed an Obliviating Charm on your own parents - is that correct? Considering the ethical issues I just brought to attention, it’ll be interesting to hear your motives and mode of procedure”, said Professor Flitwick and raised his eyebrows. Hermione looked at him for a short while, before she made up her mind and started to speak in a clear but monotonous voice.

“I proceeded through twenty consecutive steps.  I combined it with transfiguration and vanishing spells on objects in my parents’ vicinity. You see, I had to make my parents forget that they had a daughter...” she said.

A collective gasp echoed in the large classroom which subsequently fell so silent that you could hear hearts beating. Harry lowered his head. Ron looked pleadingly at Hermione. He obviously regretted his intervention at the start of the lesson. Hermione went on:

“Ron and I had decided to help Harry Potter on the mission he had been allotted by Dumbledore, in order to be able to get rid of Lord Voldemort. We had to do it. We wanted to do it.” She looked at Harry. “My parents are Muggles, so they were at an exposed situation at any rate. But I judged the risk of them being used by Voldemort to get to me, to get to Harry, as very high. I wanted them as far away as possible and under another identity. And...there was real danger, you know... if I didn’t make it... if something happened to me during the fight... I wanted them to be able to live on without pain... I wanted to spare them... That’s what I told myself I wanted to do, at any rate...” she said falteringly and looked down on her desk.

“My dear girl!” Professor Flitwick had to clear his throat. “You need not go on. We understand your motive perfectly.”

“No, I want to tell you about it”, continued Hermione, “because of what you said earlier. So that people will learn that Obliviating charms might have undesired effects – it’s not that simple. Here’s what happened to my parents: My charm succeeded. My parents forgot they’d ever had me. I erased every photo, every name in books and removed all items that might remind them of me. They moved to Australia a year ago and started a dentist’s practice. When Ron and I found them this summer - I left to search for them as soon as possible after Voldemort had fallen - when we found them, they were doing just fine. That was the worst part...” Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper.

“It was difficult to reverse the charms. I was too eager with my mother from the beginning. She turned confused and aggressive and I had to Obliviate her back for a while. Then I had to undo the charms one by one and wait several days in between. They got their memory back eventually and we brought them home to England. But I’m not sure if I did the right thing. I mean... I changed their whole life and they didn’t even have a say. Only... if I had talked to them, they wouldn’t have let me go with Ron and Harry.”

As Hermione spoke, Harry looked at his classmates’ faces and realised to what extent her story shocked and moved them. He had never thought that he would see Pansy Parkinson with tears in her eyes, but he did. The Slytherin girl recovered quickly, though.

“Of course you did the right thing. They wouldn’t have understood”, she sneered.

“Maybe I should have taken pains to explain properly. Let them decide on their own. Maybe they would have chosen to go under cover here in England”, said Hermione.

“They’re Muggles!” exclaimed Pansy. “They wouldn’t understand what Voldemort really was.”

“Muggles have minds of their own, you know,” Hermione said heatedly. “I’m afraid I did it all for myself, because I couldn’t stand to worry about them. I did it to spare me the fear and the pain if they were going to be killed. It was all about sparing me the humiliation if I were to betray Harry because of them. And to spare me the trouble of contradicting them and finding myself in disgrace with them, if I had had to disobey them to do what I had to do.”

After this confession, the discussion exploded in the room, with arguments flying in all directions. Ron stood up at Hermione’s side, fending off verbal attacks as though they were curses. He did not even look for suitable arguments but shovelled everything off fiercely to give her time to recover her senses.

***

Late that afternoon, Professor McGonagall sat exhausted in the teacher’s common room when Professor Flitwick came in through the door and threw himself on a leather-clad chair. He let out a groan and rubbed his face with his hands.

“Rough time?” asked Professor Sprout. “I thought Charms was a peaceful subject, as opposed to the treacherous and dangerous work with gardening...” Professor Flitwick smiled faintly at her and muttered:

“Huge classes... Wrought up pupils... Not a lesson without one or two of them ending up in tears... Didn’t catch any lunch as the lesson with the NEWT students degenerated into a verbal battlefield. It was good actually... it illustrated my point exactly... Slytherin students engaged in an ethical discussion! Can you imagine? Excellent! Only, students got a bit carried away... Took me some time to regain control over the class and start to structure their arguments.”

“What was it all about then?” asked Minerva McGonagall with curiosity. Flitwick rubbed his face again and told them Hermione’s story.

“Miss Granger wonders whether she did the right thing”, he finished. There was a shocked silence in the room. Minerva McGonagall’s voice trembled when she finally said:

“They’re so brave, those three. Braver than for their own good, perhaps.”

“It’s not only them,” said Professor Hooch. “All day I’ve heard the most dreadful stories. There are several children who’ve lost a parent or a sibling. It’s horrible.”

“It’s true”, provided Professor Sawman, the new Divinations teacher. “There are sorrows among the students. In the corridor today a little girl broke down in front of one of the Gargoyle statues. She said it saved her life as it shielded her from a curse, whereas her brother died beside her.” The teachers pondered this. They looked exhausted. Minerva McGonagall turned towards a figure sitting at the farther end of the room.

“Severus, you might have to do something about it. Accept the aid from St Mungo’s that the Ministry offered”, she said. Snape stirred slightly in his dark corner.

“One person, part time, with some obscure, mind-soothing healing competence, what could he possibly do? Which students should he treat to start with? Listening to you, half of the students are in need of support. I believe we’re better off focusing on school work and by being as supportive as we can, as we go by”, said the headmaster.

“We might succumb under the burden”, protested Professor Flitwick. “To have someone to refer a pupil in bad mental health to would be helpful.”

“We already have Mme Pomfrey. The symbolic presence of a mind-healer is questionable. It’s in the range of doing something, just for the sake of acting, regardless its uses - and I don’t like it”, snapped Snape, “...but I’ll consider it all the same”, he added as he took in the abated faces of his teachers. 

“At least I have exempted Miss Granger from attending classes for the coming weeks. She obviously knows how to perform Obliviating charms better than myself. She can dispose of her time better”, said Professor Filtwick.

Snape rose.

“Do you have class this late?” asked Mme Sprout.

“Defence Against the Dark Arts, NEWT class”, replied Snape. “I’m going to teach the boy who conquered Voldemort some new defences.” He swept out of the room. Professor Burgess chuckled, but as no one else did, he looked around at the others.

“That was a joke, wasn’t it? Surely he was joking!” said Burgess.

“Might have been,” Professor Sprout said uncertainly. “But I’ve never known Severus to make jokes before.”

“Oh, I believe our headmaster and Defence Against the Dark Arts’ teacher really thinks he has one or two things to teach Mr Potter,” Professor McGonagall said dryly.