August 30, 1995
It had been less than twenty-four hours since his evening with Hermione and Harry was feeling much better. Mrs Weasley had given all of them the day off from decontamination duty due to it being their last day of freedom, and as tempted as he was to while away the day alone with Hermione on their summer assignments, spending the better part of the day listening to music with Ron, Ginny, and the twins had been brilliant. Ron had the right of it, declaring that Oasis was clearly the best of the offered selections. Harry suspected it was simply because they were the loudest and most obnoxious, but considering that was why they were his favorite, that was a totally valid reason. Ginny and Hermione were drawn to The Beatles, with Harry taking special joy in Hermione saying that Rubber Soul was her favorite. Whether it was because they simply wanted to be contrarians or they actually believed it, the twins stubbornly asserted that The Weird Sisters were superior. It was a shit opinion but they were welcome to it.
He couldn't stop grinning as he looked around the table at the final meeting of the Granger Initiative Task Force before their return to Hogwarts. They were now a group of twelve as Molly Weasley had officially been inducted a few minutes prior, giggling as she downed her shot of firewhisky before telling Hermione and him that it was important to be responsible when drinking alcohol, and that they should definitely wait until they were of age to try it.
Professor Flitwick was the only member not present, not privy to the Fidelius secret due to his unwillingness to join the Order. As he thought about the risk his diminutive professor had taken on his behalf...and Hermione's...Harry resolved to learn Occlumency and whatever Advanced Charms instruction the man was willing to offer. It was the least he could do.
"Right. As you all know, this is our last official meeting for a while as we've finally managed to get rid of this lot," Sirius began, gesturing toward them. "So we've got a few things to cover before we're shot of the annoying youngsters. First order of business: Dolores Umbridge."
Half of the table's expression instantly hardened. It was clear that the woman's reputation had most definitely preceded her.
"Dolores is awful," Mr. Weasley began, "she looks down on anything and everything that she feels is beneath her. And if you are not a pureblood who follows the Ministry's guidance, you are beneath her."
Mr. Weasley's comment was met with confirming nods and muttered cursing, the loudest of which in French.
Sirius turned to the half-Veela in amusement. "Have something to share on Miss Umbridge, Fleur?"
Harry had never seen the girl so enraged, her anger fading once Bill leaned over and whispered something in her ear. "She is responsible for the legislation that required my registration at the Ministry. The head of the department, Mr. Dagworth, had refused to enforce the decree, so that harpy took it upon herself to send me the notice informing me of my obligations. I would show it to you but I burned it to ash before I'd made it past the first paragraph." The girl folded her arms and sunk into Bill's side, willing herself to remain calm.
"So," Sirius continued with a clap of his hands, "in summary, Umbridge is a foul bitch. She hates anything and anyone that is different from her and is essentially Fudge's attack dog. We're all agreed that she is at Hogwarts to make you and Dumbledore look bad, Harry. Anyone disagree with that assessment?"
Sirius' summary was met with universal murmurs of agreement. Harry was surprised to see that Mrs. Weasley seemed to be the angriest of the group.
"So what does that mean for you, Harry?" Sirius prompted.
"I need to keep my mouth shut and not lose my temper," Harry repeated dully. Sirius and Hermione had taken turns over the last day to remind him of what needed to be done. He knew it would be easier said than done; every time he thought of the woman's simpering voice and mannerisms at the Ministry hearing, his nerves were set on edge, and he'd only been subjected to her for a few minutes. He couldn't quite fathom how he'd manage being subjected to her squeaky nonsense for a full session at Hogwarts.
"And..." Mr. Weasley prompted.
"Make sure Ron keeps his mouth shut as well," Hermione offered, drawing an affirming nod from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
"Next order of business," Sirius continued, "for those who aren't aware, Harry and Hermione will be receiving advanced instruction in Charms from Professor Flitwick. Filius will be doing a bit more than instructing them on Charms, and it is important that we convince our esteemed Minister and dear, sweet Miss Umbridge that Harry has earned this instruction. Filius, Minnie, and Dumbledore will handle spreading the narrative at Hogwarts, and Harry and Hermione will do their part by being star pupils in Charms, right?"
Hermione nodded immediately and Harry did his best to mimic her actions. Charms had always been relatively easy to master, enough to manage a passing grade at least, but he knew that wouldn't be enough going forward. He felt preemptively exhausted as he thought about how much harder he would have to work next term.
"Arthur, Fleur, and Bill, if the opportunity arises, make sure to say something about how amazing Harry is at Charms. The more we say it at the Ministry and at Gringotts, the more we can spread the word."
"This will be easy," Fleur said. "Harry is a great wizard. He would have to be to defeat me in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, no?"
"It was set up for me to win-"
"No," Fleur interrupted in a tone that brooked no argument. "You outperformed us all in the first task. You rescued my Gabrielle. You saved me and survived the third task even though it was a trap. You are a great wizard and I will not hear different."
After several moments of silence, Sirius spoke. "Uh yeah...so to recap...Arthur and Bill, try to be like Fleur without the wonky accent." Sirius paused as his eyes settled on him, his expression softening.
"Like she said: Harry is a great wizard, the best of us, and I will not hear different."
August 31, 1995
As he sank into his seat, Harry did his best to catch his breath. His journey from Grimmauld to the Hogwarts Express seemed like a blur, a whirlwind of emotion and confusion. Mrs. Weasley's tearful goodbye at Grimmauld was matched only by Sirius' equally tearful blubbering as his godfather did his best to repeat his final instructions. Whatever the man had said was lost to time as Harry focused on the strong arms that embraced him...much stronger than they had been on that fateful night at the end of third year. He felt a keen sense of pride at what he and Hermione had accomplished that night. Even Moody's paranoid instructions as they made their way through muggle London to King's Cross seemed a bit softer...a bit more emotional. Sirius had mentioned that there was a 'super-secret' member of GIT whose identity he'd been sworn to secrecy in revealing, but when the grizzled wizard referred to him as 'Harry' while admonishing him for not watching his corners, he was fairly confident that Alastor had signed up for duty.
Little did he know that the tearful goodbyes were only beginning. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were waiting for them on the muggle side of Platform 9 ¾, their arms loaded down with chocolate and even more shopping bags filled with clothes. Apparently Mrs. Granger had decided that he needed proper wizarding accoutrements and recruited Bill and his girlfriend for a trip to Diagon to rectify the matter. Harry had thanked them (again) for their kindness and offered to pay them back (again), but Mr. and Mrs. Granger had waved him off (again), refusing his offer.
Mr. Granger ordered him to keep the offered chocolate on him at all times, lest any more stray dementors find their way to his orbit, and took great pains to inform Harry that he'd had enough time to get the good stuff this time...not the dodgy sweets he'd been able to scrounge up at the Petrol station during their pre-dawn rescue mission. Harry had made a point of sampling a bit for Mr. Granger's benefit before going through the platform. It was delicious, better than any he'd ever tried. He reckoned it had less to do with the quality of the sweet and more to do with the sentiment behind the offering.
His journey had been so inspiring he hadn't even been that bothered to learn that Malfoy had been named a prefect. The git had tried to get a rise out of him multiple times during the prefect meeting, but Harry did his best to ignore him, instead focusing on the soft hand intertwined with his. He'd promised Mrs. Weasley and Hermione that he would do his best not to be so impulsive this year, and if Malfoy wanted to be a shit prefect then that was his problem. Harry had made a promise.
With the meeting finally over, they went in search of their friends, finding Ginny and Ron sitting in a compartment with Neville, along with a rather odd-looking girl he couldn't recall seeing before. She'd tucked her wand behind her ear and was reading a magazine that looked to be upside down. It was very odd.
"You're Harry Potter," the girl stated as he took a seat, her focus immediately returning to her upside-down reading material. Based on Ron and Ginny's bemused expressions he reckoned he'd get the full story on the girl later. Besides, she had a pretty smile and seemed harmless enough.
"Good summer, Neville?" he asked.
"It was great!" the boy enthused. "I got this from Gran for my birthday," he declared as he held up the plant in his lap for inspection.
Harry thought it was a rather sad looking birthday present, all things considered, but kept those thoughts to himself; if Neville liked it, then that was good enough for him. As Neville explained the brilliance that was the Mimbulus mimbletonia, Harry made a point of interjecting with a 'that's cool' or 'neat' from time to time, content to let his friend regale them with the gloriousness of his plant. At some point during Neville's dissertation, Cho Chang and a group of her friends stopped by their compartment. The girl looked like she was going to stop and say hello, but after making a move to open the compartment, Cho frowned and quickly moved along. Harry wasn't sure what had spooked the girl, but something or someone had quickly disavowed the girl of that particular notion. Hermione buried herself a bit further into his side as she asked Neville about his plant, and all thoughts of Cho and her strange behavior faded away.
At some point Neville must have realized that he'd been droning on about his plant a bit longer than he should have and he suddenly stopped. "So," Neville continued awkwardly, "how was your summer?"
Based on Neville's expression the boy immediately regretted asking his question. Given the dementor attack, his subsequent hearing at the Ministry, and the almost daily slagging off that he'd received from the Prophet, it was clear that Neville was worried he'd asked the absolute worst question. Even the odd girl seemed to be interested in his answer, lowering her upside-down magazine and waiting for him to respond.
"It's the best summer I can remember," Harry answered honestly. As he stared out the window his mind briefly returned to the damned prophecy, but he quickly squashed those thoughts down.
They would figure it out. He and Hermione would figure it out.