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Thankfully, the rest of the train ride passed in relative peace. Ron Weasley ended up the only member of the Golden Trio that Harry didn't end up inadvertently meeting.
He and Tonks continued chatting and eventually exited the train to go to the carriages that took them to the castle. She laughed as he explained why Penny and Cedric had lost their Harry privileges and why he was now slightly afraid of his fame, considering how weirdly even the boy who lived had behaved.
If his plan of avoiding his friends had also served to avoid Neville and his apparent adulation, however, then it failed miserably. Tonks and Harry passed the group of first-years waiting for their boat ride. This group also included Neville, who gave Harry an even more worshipful look, likely because he was walking almost hand in hand with an incredibly hot 7th-year student.
Harry sighed inwardly. It truly was a curse sometimes, having too much rizz and too much skill.
"Who do you think the new defence against the dark arts professor will be? I'm glad nothing happened to Professor Potter, but he still quit." Harry said as he and Tonks walked past the snorting Thestrals to board one of the last carriages along with two Ravenclaw students who didn't seem all too interested in them.
The girl shrugged. "The assortment of DADA professors while I've been at Hogwarts has been quite random. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if the new teacher was a troll."
"Better than Wimbledonk," one of the Ravenclaws muttered distractedly, causing Tonks to nod.
"Yeah, he was horrible. Why even try to use that charm on a Kelpie?" Tonks agreed.
They spent the rest of the carriage ride speculating on which first years would get sorted into which house and looking at the beautifully shimmering castle as it increased in size with their approach.
"Well, I think we had a good discussion about it, but I think the only shoo-in is that bushy-haired girl who came asking us about the toad. She's 100% Ravenclaw," Tonks eventually concluded as the carriage arrived at the open wooden gates of the castle grounds.
"She might just surprise us in the end, who knows. I think people would have also pegged me as a Ravenclaw," Harry mused.
They got off the carriage and joined the throng of students travelling to the great hall.
"You work way too hard for that," Tonks rebutted. In a more serious voice, she added, "Also, you're much too loyal. Not many people would…"
"I'll take that as a compliment," Harry said, not enjoying the more serious tone the conversation had taken. He wanted to joke around, he wanted to banter, he didn't want to think about all the shit that had happened last year and was about to happen this year. Tonks seemingly noticed his change of mood, and the two of them entered the great hall, the loud chattering cacophony chamber that it was. They split up there, Harry going to sit next to Penny and Cedric, who were looking at him sheepishly, and Tonks going to join the other seventh years.
Harry idly greeted his friends and made some water appear in his goblet.
Despite his ardent wishes for the opposite, he could already see that Quirrell was sitting at the teacher's table with his stupid purple turban, idly chatting with Professor Vector next to him. The only oddity was the fact that the man didn't seem to be stuttering.
His gaze strafed to the right to the head of the table, where a bent and older-than-ever-looking Dumbledore seemed to be deeply involved in a conversation with Slugorn and a stern-looking McGonagall, who were sitting respectively on his left and right.
It couldn't have been an easy year for the headmaster. A student had been killed by a Werewolf, and the man had received the information he needed to start preparing against Voldemort. Vacation over. It made sense that under these circumstances, he looked extremely drained, and for the first time, Harry had seen, looking all of his 100+ years.
Seemingly noticing the attention, Dumbledore suddenly looked up from his conversation with the other two professors and looked over at Harry.
Green and blue eyes met over the chasm cast by the Great Hall. Right before any meaning could be communicated, the locking of the eyes was disrupted by the opening of the large doors leading into the Great Hall.
Harry looked over to see that, curiously enough, it was Flitwick leading the first years this time. He guessed he could have deduced that from the fact that the short man had been the only professor not present at the teacher's table.
"Blimey, they get smaller every year," Cedric said from next to him.
"You idiot, it's you who's getting bigger every year," Penny retorted with a roll of her eyes that Harry didn't even have to look at to see, he could basically hear it happening.
That was when anything else that his friends had to say was blocked out by a sudden rise in volume from the previously silent great hall.
"Neville Longbottom, as I live and breathe."
"Never thought I'd see the day."
"Can't believe he's here."
"Is it the blonde kid? Where's the scar?"
These were the whispers and shouts that Harry was able to identify through the greater noise. However, there were literally dozens more that were contributing to creating just one big block of noise.
Neville, for his part, seemed to shrink in on himself, likely not a fan of being the centre of attention to such an extent. Any eleven-year-old would have been scared shitless from so many hundreds of pairs of eyes tracking their every movement.
"I hope he gets sorted into Hufflepuff, I really do," a female voice set from his left. Harry looked up and saw that somehow, without him noticing, Harley Black had become the person sitting next to him on that side.
Weird how those things happened.
"I would have considered sending him abroad, to be honest," Harry muttered back as the first years came to a stop and Flitwick came forward to the sorting hat and the stool which had been magically placed in front of the teacher's podium while no one had been paying attention.
"That would have just made him more vulnerable," Harley rebutted. "No friends, professors interested in how he survived the killing curse, a government likely not taking the threat to his life seriously. It's in Hogwarts where he will be the most scrutinised, but also the most protected."
Her words didn't sound like the words of a child, but rather something that she recited from memory with perhaps a bit of a bitter tone.
Something that her father or James had said?
"Well, I heard Durmstrang has beautiful weather this time of year," Harry joked, instead of saying anything serious. It wasn't like he knew anything about different magical schools anyway. Maybe they were even more dangerous than Hogwarts, who knew?
Rather than getting into that debate, he preferred just trying to lighten the mood.
Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones were unceremoniously sorted into Hufflepuff.
Harley at his comment on Durmstrang snorted. "And for tonight's weather, we have 95% chances of being hit by a stray Cruciatus flying out from the Dark Arts classroom," she said in the mocking tone of a weather reporter, causing Harry to laugh.
That was a pretty good impression, he admitted before his attention was torn back to the sorting as Hermione Granger was called up to the hot seat.
He wondered if enough had changed for the girl to be sorted into another house. Perhaps she hadn't gotten that history book which expounded Dumbledore's deeds as the perfect Gryffindor? Maybe not having that interaction with the original Harry Potter and Ron Weasley on the train changed her opinion of her preferred house somehow?
He saw from afar how the hat scrunched up his face in puzzlement. He'd gotten quite adept at figuring out his mentor's moods depending on his non-human facial features during their time together. A doubtlessly useful talent, being able to figure out the emotional states of headpieces. Right now, Chanithachuah was confused and perhaps a bit belligerent.
It seems like Hermione had initiated a debate on her placement. However, based on the vibe that Harry was getting, the hat didn't feel particularly charitable today.
"Ravenclaw!" it ended up shouting, causing a blushing Hermione to go join the clapping house of blue and bronze. It seemed that it hadn't been Hermione who'd changed her experience, but Harry who'd changed the hat.
Ironic.
He suddenly felt a tug on the sleeve of his robes, but none of his neighbours were touching him. He looked around to find Tonks from higher up the table looking at him with a raised eyebrow and her wand out. She'd placed her bet correctly, while Harry had bet on Gryffindor. It seemed like he was the one who had been wrong in the end.
The next sorting of note was that of Draco Malfoy, who, unlike in the books, actually had to have the hat on his head for five seconds before being sent to Slytherin anyway. He didn't look as pleased about it as one would have expected. Just a pinched smile on his narrow face, hair mussed up by the hat.
He received a lukewarm greeting from Slytherin.
Then came Longbottom's turn, and again it was like someone flicked the volume switch of the great hall from off to on. The noise of speculation erupted as the young boy of eleven awkwardly and nervously walked up the length of the great hall to sit down on a small wooden stool. Flitwick had to hop to lay the sorting hat on his head. A seeming battle of wills commenced then. The young boy's face scrunched up, while the hat seemed eminently contemplative.
Was it thinking of sending the boy to Slytherin? Harry wondered. He sincerely doubted that that was something that Neville, raised by James Potter, would agree with, so there was likely an argument breaking out. Or maybe there were depths to Neville's personality that he didn't realise? He obviously didn't really know the boy. Perhaps he was very studious, and the option was Ravenclaw.
"Hufflepuff!" the hat eventually shouted after the longest deliberation pause of the ceremony. Neville stood up on shaky knees as Harry's table erupted in applause, and the cheering got louder than he had ever heard for any student in the past.
The boy made his way towards Harry, or perhaps rather, towards Harley. Considering his best friend was already in the house, it made some sense to want to go there as well. Tonks was also some sort of adopted cousin, so more family relations. In addition, Neville hadn't sat with Ron Weasley on the train ride this time, which meant that the friendship hadn't been struck up, if there would have even been one.
Neville sat down between Harley and Harry with his gaze directed firmly at the wooden table. His back was probably bruised from the amount of friendly pats that he'd received from his new housemates. The other tables remained silent, maybe with a sprinkling of a complaining air about them.
"We got Longbottom, we got Longbottom," was heard from the middle of the Hufflepuff table, before Flitwick was forced to send up a bang of sound from his wand to let the sorting continue.
"Welcome to Hufflepuff," Harry said to the blonde boy once things had quieted down enough. "Seems like you'll be a hard worker and a good duellist in no time," he patted the boy on the shoulder. Meanwhile, Harley started saying something that he couldn't hear in Neville's ear.
Perhaps as a consequence of his actions last year, no one leaned over to bother Neville. Their gazes, of course, were nevertheless strong enough to be considered a form of sexual harassment in most countries.
The sorting concluded with Ron Weasley going to Gryffindor, which Harry guessed was never going to change with that family, broken as it might have been with the loss of a son. The stool and the hat were carried off by Flitwick, who joined his fellow professors at the staff table, where Dumbledore had stood up to gently tap a crystal goblet with the back of a knife.
The tired energy seemed to leave the man as he readied his start-of-term speech, and he clapped once he noticed that he got everyone's attention before starting to speak.
"Welcome back to another year of Hogwarts, where your beautifully emptied heads shall once again be filled with a variety of knick-knacks, knowledge, spells and doubtlessly many other things that we do not actually teach. I'd like to inform you of some things before we move on to our scrumptious dinner. First, I'd like to welcome back Professor Quirrel, who, after a successful sabbatical in Albania, will be joining us again, this time for the post of the Defence Against the Dark Arts." Quirrel waved at the students and received middling applause. Dumbledore continued. "The updated list of banned items is hanging outside the great hall. I would suggest you read it tomorrow morning when you receive your class schedules so that you can avoid breaking any rules. Detention is a thing to fear, and I heard that Professor Slughorn has several dozen cauldrons that need to be cleaned by hand."
Slughorn, at that point, raised his hands for a wave. Some of the students laughed.
"Furthermore, it should be noted that the forbidden forest is still forbidden, as was the case last year and the year before that and so on," he said jokingly, before affixing the hall with a serious look over his half-moon glasses. "And last but not least in the line of announcements. I have to inform you that the third-floor corridor is forbidden for anyone who does not want to die an incredibly unpleasant death."
Confused murmurs from the students. It made perfect sense when one considered the weirdness of the announcement.
What exactly was an unpleasant death anyway? Harry wondered. Being ripped apart by a Cerberus was still better than drowning, or being tortured to death, or freezing, or burning, for that matter.
Surely, an Avada Kedavra to the face was still more pleasant, but three gigantic heads should be able to sever the head from the body quite quickly, right?
"Now I won't keep you here any longer than I have to. I'm sure you're hungry. Dig in!" Dumbledore announced, and as if by magic, food appeared on the tables, causing the wood to audibly groan under the new weight.
Harry's third year at Hogwarts had begun.
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AN: As you have probably guessed. Canon is dead. Just finished Christmas vacation on Patreon, which is actually more than half the year ;)