A Helping Hand: Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

Harry’s summer was awful. Dudley used every opportunity to hit him with his Smelting’s stick. Uncle Vernon had decided it was now his job to mow the lawn, and Aunt Petunia seemed determined to make sure he earned his keep. She had him doing chores from dawn until dusk.

To make matters even worse, no one had responded to his letters. He sent letters out every week with Hedwig, and every time, she returned empty-handed. Sometimes, he wondered if it had all been a dream. He worried that when he asked to be taken to King’s Cross Station, his relatives would laugh at him. Maybe they would drop him off, and there would be no Platform 9 ¾; no Hogwarts Express.

And so, Harry was feeling quite depressed as the summer wore on. It wasn’t until his birthday that things took a sudden turn.

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table, eating his meager breakfast, when Uncle Vernon cleared his throat loudly.

“As you all know, today is a very important day,” he said.

Harry sat up straight. They’d never celebrated his birthday before. Maybe they were finally-

“This might be the biggest promotion of my career.”

Harry slouched back in his seat and listened with half an ear as Uncle Vernon droned on.

“Mr. Mason, one of our biggest clients, and his wife will be joining us for dinner,” he continued. “Everything has to be perfect.”

He turned to Harry, narrowed his eyes, and jabbed his fork in his direction.

“Especially you,” he said threateningly. “You’ll stay in your room while they’re here. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you. In fact, I want you to pretend you don’t even exist.”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon.”

He waited until his uncle turned away to roll his eyes. Uncle Vernon then spent the next ten minutes giving Aunt Petunia and Dudley their specific roles when he was interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

“Boy, go see who it is!” Uncle Vernon barked.

Harry gladly left the kitchen and walked through the living room to open the door. He blinked against the bright, blinding light of the morning sun and looked up. The tall, blonde man in an expensive suit looked familiar.

“Mr. Greengrass?”

Before the man could respond, a blur of blonde hair darted around him and crashed into Harry’s chest. He stumbled back, nearly falling over backwards, but managed to catch his balance.

“Daphne?” he asked.

“Oh, good, you remember my name,” she replied.

Her fist impacted his shoulder quite painfully.

“Ow! What was that for?” Harry asked.

“For not replying to my letters,” Daphne said, pulling back and crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you know how many people my father had to bribe to get your address?”

“What?” he asked.

“What’s all this racket?” Uncle Vernon demanded as he stormed into the living room.

“Mr. Dursley, I presume,” Mr. Greengrass said. “I’m Gareth Greengrass. I’m sure Harry’s told you about my daughter, Daphne. She became quite concerned when he didn’t reply to her letters and insisted we pay a visit.”

“You’re one of them?” Uncle Vernon hissed, his beady eyes narrowed.

“What letter?” Harry interrupted loudly. “I haven’t received any letters. Not one all summer. I thought you were ignoring my letters.”

“You haven’t received any?” Daphne asked. “I let Hermione use my owl to send you several, and I’d be surprised if Weasley hasn’t sent you at least a few.”

“Enough of this rubbish,” Uncle Vernon barked, his face growing steadily more puce by the second. “I want you freaks out of my house! Out!”

Mr. Greengrass narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“Excuse me?” he asked softly.

“You heard me!” Uncle Vernon shouted. “Get out of my house!”

He whirled around to jab a fat finger at Harry accusingly.

“I warned you I didn’t want to hear anything from you freak friends.”

“Freaks?” Daphne asked, staring the much larger man down unflinchingly. “Well, if that’s how you feel about magicals, then you won’t mind if Harry comes to stay with us for the rest of the summer.”

Harry turned to stare at her in surprise, and his heart jumped hopefully.

“He most certainly will not!” Uncle Vernon shouted.

Daphne arched an eyebrow challengingly and turned to Mr. Greengrass.

“Father, perhaps we should notify the Ministry about the issue with Harry’s letters,” she said sweetly. “I’m sure they’d like to get to the bottom of it. Who knows what magic might be at work? It could take them days to figure it out.”

“Quite right,” Mr. Greengrass said.

Daphne turned back to Uncle Vernon with a sickly smirk. Vernon’s narrowed eyes darted from her to her father. Harry could practically see his hatred of magic warring with his desire to see Harry as unhappy as possible.

“Fine!” he spat. “Take the boy! We’re better off without him!”

“Excellent,” Daphne grinned.

She took Harry by the hand and led him toward the stairs.

“Let’s get your things.”

Once they’d reached the top of the stairs, he led her across the hall to his bedroom. Reaching out, he grabbed the handle and paused. A wave of embarrassment washed over him.

“Something wrong?” Daphne asked.

“No,” he replied quickly. “Er, it’s just… a bit of a mess.”

He swung open the door. A bit of a mess was an understatement. The floor was littered with Dudley’s old clothes, broken toys, and unused books. Only a small path had been cleared leading to the bed. Hedwig, sitting in her open cage, lifted her head from under her wing and hooted questioningly.

“Come on, girl, we’re getting out of here,” Harry whispered.

She chirped happily as he lifted her cage and carefully placed it on the desk. Quickly, he began picking up his belongings and tossing them haphazardly into his trunk.

“What is all this?” Daphne asked.

She picked up a comic book that looked like it had been attacked by a dog. On the back was a large green stain. Upon seeing it, she wrinkled her nose in disgust and dropped the comic back on the floor.

“My cousin’s old things,” Harry said, rushing to pack as fast as possible. “This used to be his second bedroom.”

“Second bedroom?” Daphne asked sharply. “Where did you sleep before they gave you this room?”

Harry mentally cursed himself.

“In the other room,” he told her. “It’s a bit smaller.”

Fortunately, that seemed to satisfy her. She didn’t need to know the other room was actually a cupboard. Prying up the loose floorboard, he retrieved the last of his things, tossed them in his trunk, and slammed the lid shut. Daphne grabbed one end of his trunk while he grabbed the other end in one hand and Hedwig’s cage in the other. Together, they carried them downstairs.

Mr. Greengrass was still waiting in the open doorway, looking at his pocket watch. Uncle Vernon, however, was seated in his favorite chair, glowering sullenly. Aunt Petunia sat primly on the couch to his left, and Dudley was nowhere to be seen.

“Well, bye,” Harry said awkwardly.

Uncle Vernon grunted, and Aunt Petunia sniffed. Neither said a word as he marched out the door.

“What awful Muggles,” Daphne said the moment she closed the door behind her.

Mr. Greengrass hummed in agreement.

“So, how are we leaving?” Harry asked.

“We’ll be Apparating,” Mr. Greengrass said, closing his pocket watch with a click and stowing it in his pocket.

“What’s that?”

“Disappearing in one place and reappearing in another,” Daphne told him. “We don’t learn it until sixth year. It requires a license, a bit like Muggle driving.”

“Come, let’s make this quick,” Mr. Greengrass said. “I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.”

Harry looked around. He could see several of his neighbors peeking between curtains and over fences.

“Er, what about the neighbors?” he asked.

“Not to worry,” Mr. Greengrass replied. “They won’t see a thing.”

He waved his wand in an arc. Nothing seemed to happen. There was no flash of light or colored sparks, but the people looking out of their windows turned back to their homes, and the ones looking over fences suddenly found something else to do.

Mr. Greengrass placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder and took Daphne’s hand.

“What-”

Harry didn’t get to finish his question. The breath was squeezed from his lungs. It felt like he was being sucked headfirst through a straw. He closed his eyes as panic consumed him. He couldn’t breathe. The squeezing got tighter and tighter, and then, suddenly, it stopped. Harry dropped to his hands and knees, sucking in deep breaths, struggling not to be sick.

“Sorry, but there’s really no preparing for your first Apparition,” Mr. Greengrass said. “The feeling will pass in a moment.”

Daphne knelt down beside him and rubbed his back soothingly. Slowly, Harry opened his eyes. He was kneeling on a grassy knoll next to a gravel road leading to a large manor. Mr. Greengrass was already walking toward the house.

“Sorry,” Daphne said. “I forgot how disorienting it can be the first time.”

It took several moments for Harry’s stomach to settle back where it belonged. Climbing gingerly to his feet, he picked up Hedwig’s fallen cage and opened the door.

“Sorry, girl,” he said.

He reached out to pet her, and she nipped his finger painfully, nearly breaking the skin. Letting loose an indignant squawk, she flapped her wings and took to the air. Harry smiled as he watched her fly for a nearby corpse of trees. He hated locking her in a cage.

Daphne helped him lift his trunk, and they carried it down the long gravel path to the front door. The house was massive. The foyer alone was the size of the Dursleys’ living room.

“Tilly!” Daphne called.

There was a loud pop, like a balloon being burst, and a small, odd-looking creature appeared in front of them. It was about the size of a small child, with thin arms and legs, large, bulbous eyes, and pointed, bat-like ears.

“Yes, mistress?” it asked in a high-pitched voice.

“Take Harry’s things to the guest room,” she said. “He’ll be staying with us for the rest of the Summer.”

“Right away, mistress.”

The creature grabbed the trunk and Hedwig’s cage and vanished with another loud pop.

“Er, what was that?” Harry asked.

“Tilly, she’s one of our House Elves,” Daphne said.

“What’s a-”

His question was interrupted by the sound of running feet. He turned just as a blonde-haired blur crashed into his chest.

“You’re here!” the girl yelled excitedly. “Are you staying for the summer? Daphne’s been telling Father we should bring you here since she got off the express.”

“Astoria!” Daphne hissed, her cheeks turning pink.

Astoria pulled back from Harry and flashed a playful smirk at her sister.

“Astoria, how many times do I have to tell you, you should run in the-oh, hello. You must be Harry.”

Harry turned as a tall, beautiful woman entered the foyer. Her hair was the same golden blonde as Daphne’s, and she had the same high cheekbones, but her eyes were a warm brown instead of Daphne’s bright blue.

“Er, yeah, hi,” he said, waving awkwardly.

The woman smiled.

“I’m Evangeline,” she said. “I take it you’ll be staying with us?”

“Father said he could stay for the rest of the summer,” Daphne replied.

Evangeline sighed, but her smile remained.

“I suppose he forgot to tell me before rushing off to his meeting,” she said. “You should show him to his room so he can get settled in. Astoria, you’ve been running around all morning. Maybe you should rest.”

“I’m fine, mother,” Astoria said, rolling her eyes.

Daphne grabbed Harry by the hand and led him through the house and up the stairs. She showed him to the guest bedroom, which was twice the size of his aunt and uncle’s bedroom at Privet Drive. His trunk was already neatly tucked against the end of the four-poster bed, his clothes were hanging in the wardrobe, and his school things were stacked neatly on the desk.

“I hope this is alright,” Daphne said.

Harry grinned.

“It’s brilliant!”

“I’m glad you approve,” she smiled, sitting down on the bed. “Since you didn’t get my letter, there’s something we need to discuss before you talk to my parents.”

Harry sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her curiously.

“I gave Astoria the Elixir,” she said. “And it worked. It worked brilliantly. She’s been in perfect health ever since. The healers are baffled. They can’t even find a trace of her Malediction.”

“That’s great!” Harry smiled.

“It is,” Daphne replied with a smile of her own. “But I didn’t tell my parents, or the healers. The only person I told is Astoria.”

“Okay,” he said, confused. “Why?”

“My mother wouldn’t have trusted it,” she told him. “She’s incredibly protective of Astoria. And if my father found out I had the last known piece of the Philosopher’s Stone, he would’ve spent decades trying to replicate it. It would have made them a target for You-Know-Who.”

Harry nodded.

“And there’s something else you should know. The Stone completely dissolved in the water. There’s nothing left.”

“That’s fine,” Harry said, waving off her guilty look. “It’s probably better that way.”

Daphne smiled brightly and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Although,” he added. “Ron’s going to be horribly disappointed.”

Staying with Daphne was quite different than living with the Dursleys. Evangeline, as she insisted Harry call her, spent most of her time at home, but she left Harry and Daphne to their own devices. Astoria, on the other hand, was mothered constantly. Evangeline couldn’t go an hour without checking on her and insisting she rest.

One of the biggest benefits of staying with Daphne was that he got to use magic. Harry was initially worried about getting in trouble, but she explained that the Ministry couldn’t track underage magic in a magical household. As long as they were safe, her parents didn’t mind.

Mr. Greengrass wasn’t home much, and even when he was, Harry didn’t see much of him. He spent his days running the family businesses-whatever that entailed. When he was home, he was usually shut away in his office. The only time Harry saw much of him was at dinner, and he didn’t talk much.

Although he seemed oddly interested in the company Uncle Vernon worked for.

Vernon Dursley sat back in his chair with a large sigh and a giant smile under his mustache.

Today was the day.

Dinner with the Masons had gone perfectly, and today, they were going to make the largest order in the company’s history. All Vernon had to do was show them around the manufacturing floor to prove their quality was up to snuff, and the deal would be sealed.

Vernon was just thinking it might be time to ask for a bigger office when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he called.

The receptionist, Marie, cracked the door open and cautiously peeked inside. She was a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair and large, round glasses. A long, gold chain connected to the earpieces and hung around her neck.

“Mr. Mason is here,” he said nervously.

“I’ll be right there,” Vernon smiled.

Marie nodded sharply, closed the door with a snap, and he could hear her heels clicking on the linoleum floor as she quickly retreated back to her desk. She was such a flighty woman. He had no idea why.

Heaving himself out of his chair, Vernon donned his best sports coat and left the office. He stepped out into a long hallway full of similar offices and turned left. Faces peered at him through open doors and windows as he marched toward the front office like a conquering hero. At the end of the hall, he took a deep breath, puffed up his chest, sucked in his gut, and stepped confidently into the main office.

“Vernon,” Mr. Mason smiled. “Good to see you again.”

“Good to see you, too, Mr. Mason,” Vernon said, giving him a firm handshake.

“Oh, please, I told you call me George.”

“George it is,” Vernon smiled. “Are you ready to start the tour?”

“Almost,” George said. “I’m just waiting for my new business partner. He bought out Mr. Smith just last week. He’s a good man, though. You’ll like him. Ah, here he is now.”

Vernon turned to the front door just as it opened, and a blonde man stepped inside. A very familiar blonde man. The same one that had shown up at his house unannounced and taken the brat. He started to break out in a cold sweat.

“Gareth, this is the man I’ve been telling you about,” George smiled. “This is Vernon Dursley. Vernon, I’d like you to meet Gareth Greengrass.”

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Gareth smirked.

Vernon shook his hand nervously. He dearly wanted to warn George about the man’s freakishness, but how could he do that without sounding like a nutter? He couldn’t just start spouting off about magic. They’d call the police.

George clapped his hands and rubbed them together eagerly.

“Ready to give us that tour?”

Vernon swallowed his anger, and no small amount of his pride. Fixing a smile on his face, he turned and led the two men into the factory. They paused just inside to don hi-viz vest and hard hats before Vernon continued the tour.

The tour went far better than he thought it would. Both men seem pleased with the quality of the production. Vernon quickly settled into his prepared speech and quickly regained his confidence. But just when he thought he’d sealed the deal, George rushed off to use the loo. He glanced over at Gareth nervously, and swore he saw the end of something long and thin sticking out of his pocket before it quickly vanished.

“Now that we’re alone, I believe there’s a personal matter we need to discuss,” Gareth said, pinning Vernon with a hard, cold gaze.

Vernon harumphed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“From now on, when my daughter invites Harry over, you’ll agree without dispute,” Gareth continued. “And you’ll ensure that he’s healthy and whole when he does.”

“I don’t know what that little brat’s told you-”

“He’s told me nothing,” Gareth said. “He didn’t need to. It’s not unusual for Muggle families to mistreat magical children.”

Vernon flinched at the mention of magic.

“It’s happened since the dawn of magic,” Vernon flinched again as he continued. “I suspect if Harry had told me anything, you’d be speaking to the Aurors instead of me. And I assure you, there’s nothing you could do stop our authorities from arresting you.”

“So, you think that you can just order me around, do you?” Vernon blustered.

“No,” Gareth replied. “You’ll do as you’re told because if you don’t, I’ll tell George to cancel the contract with your company, and I’ll ensure they know it happened because of you.”

Vernon clenched his hands tightly into fists. The man had him over a barrel, and they both knew it.

“Why do you even care about the boy?” he yelled, knowing the loud machinery would drown out his voice.

“I don’t.”

Vernon blinked in surprise.

“But my daughter does, and my daughters get what they want,” Gareth said. “Marrying Harry Potter would be good for her standing in the wizarding world, and it’s what she wants, so it’s what she’ll get. I’ll not allow anything to get in the way of my daughter’s success. Do I make myself clear, Vernon?”

Vernon stared at the man for a long moment and begrudgingly nodded his head. He didn’t know what was so special about the boy, but he had little choice in the matter.

Oh, well. The less they had to see the brat, the better.

Harry let out a sigh of relief as he stepped out of Knockturn Alley and into Diagon Alley.

“Thanks, Hagrid,” he said. “What were you doing down there anyway?”

“Oh, I was lookin’ fer some Flesh-Eatin’ Slug repellent,” Hagrid told him. “Professor Sprout’s got an awful infestation this year.”

“Harry!”

Daphne rushed through the crowd of shoppers and crashed into him with a tight hug. A moment later, she pulled back and smacked his arm.

“I told you to say your destination clearly,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sorry,” Harry replied sheepishly. “The soot made me cough.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t go too far,” Evangeline said as she and Astoria caught up to Daphne. “Thank you for finding him, Hagrid.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hagrid smiled. “I need ter get goin’. Got a few errands to run for Dumbledore. I’ll leave yeh in good hands, Harry.”

“Bye, Hagrid,” Harry waved. “See you at school!”

Hagrid waved back over his shoulder as he waded through the crowd. Taking Harry by the hand, Daphne pulled him toward their first destination, the bookstore. The line outside of Flourish and Blotts was enormous. It seemed like half the shoppers in Diagon Alley were waiting for the doors to open. As he gazed around, he spotted a group of familiar redheads, and next to them was an equally familiar head of bushy, brown hair.

“Ron! Hermione!” Harry yelled.

His friends turned and smiled widely. Still holding Daphne’s hand, he led her over. Astoria followed closely behind.

“Hey, mate,” Ron grinned. “Good summer?”

“The best,” Harry grinned back.

“Did you ever find out what was stopping your mail?” Hermione asked curiously.

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Mr. Greengrass checked me for spells, but he didn’t find any. He thinks it was either something on the house or it was removed when I left.”

“Oh no, there’s another one,” Ron said, staring at Astoria.

“Ron, don’t be rude,” Hermione hissed, smacking his arm.

“What?” he asked.

“That’s okay, I could say the same about you,” Astoria said, glancing over at the gaggle of redheads. “Those two look like a Cloning spell gone wrong.”

Fred and George turned to each other.

“Now there’s an idea,” one of them said.

“Imagine if there were four of us,” the other replied. “We could get four times the work done.”

“And cause four times the trouble,” Harry smiled.

“Don’t give them ideas,” Daphne said. “This is my sister, Astoria. She’s starting her first year.”

Fred and George shared a gleeful look.

“Then may we present to you-”

“Our little sister, Ginny!”

In unison, they reached back and yanked a young, redheaded girl between them. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere else, but they kept a tight grip on her shoulders.

“This is our sister, Ginny,” said the one Harry thought was George.

“She’s an ickle firstie, too,” Fred added.

“Hi,” Harry said with a smile and a wave.

He didn’t know what he did wrong, but that only made things worse. Ginny panicked. She ripped free from her brothers’ grasp and hid behind them. The awkward moment was thankfully broken when the door to the bookstore opened. People surged inside, and Harry was carried along by the crowd.

By the time they left Flourish and Blotts, Harry had a strong dislike of Gilderoy Lockhart. So did Ron. Daphne was suspicious of him, but Hermione seemed smitten. Thankfully, they could all agree on two things. Lucius Malfoy was an even bigger git than his son, and Mr. Weasley was a hero for punching him in the mouth.

They all met again a few days later to board the Hogwarts Express. There was a bit of an issue with the barrier to Platform 9¾. Harry crashed into it the first time he tried to go through, but Evangeline was quickly able to fix it.

“I’m not sure why it wasn’t open, but it seems to be working now,” she said. “Let’s get through quickly.”

The second attempt went much better, and they made it onto the platform. Harry promised Evangeline he would watch after Astoria and helped the girls get their trunks on the train. They all sat in one of the larger compartments near the back of the train, followed shortly by Tracey, then Hermione, and with just a couple of minutes to spare, Ron and Ginny arrived. The brakes hissed as they were released, a cloud of steam billowed from the smokestack, and they were off to Hogwarts.

“Did you all do your summer homework?” Hermione asked, looking particularly hard at Ron and Hermione.

“Daphne helped me with mine,” Harry said.

“I just have a couple of corrections to make,” Ron said, studiously avoiding her eyes. “Anyone want to play chess?”

Hermione already had her nose in one of Lockhart’s new books, and Harry pretended he didn’t hear him. He didn’t like chess. He wasn’t very good at it.

“I’ll kick your arse, Weasley,” Tracey said.

Ron glanced at her suspiciously, but with no other takers, he brought out his chessboard.

“Did you get that autograph you wanted?” Astoria asked.

Hermione glanced up from her book and blushed lightly.

“No, I thought I might ask him after class,” she admitted softly.

“Oh, not you,” Astoria grinned. “I meant Daphne.”

“Astoria, I swear I’ll hex you,” Daphne growled.

“No, you won’t,” Astoria replied confidently.

Hermione tilted her head curiously.

“I thought you didn’t like Lockhart,” Hermione said.

“I meant Harry’s autograph,” Astoria smirked. “She’s got every Harry Potter book ever made.”

Daphne blushed furiously, and Harry wasn’t too sure why. Astoria had been teasing her all summer about her book collection. Apparently, Daphne had developed an interest in him before they’d ever met because of them. It was why she’d sought him out for help in the first place.

“Ginny has those,” Ron chimed in.

Ginny flushed bright red as everyone turned to look at her. She quickly muttered something about needing the loo and fled the compartment like she was being chased.

“Excellent work, Ronald,” Hermione said scathingly.

“What?” Ron asked.

“You embarrassed her.”

“Well, it’s true!” he said defensively. “She’s got a bookshelf full of them.”

Hermione huffed, crossed her arms, and turned away from him.

“You know, it doesn’t seem right that someone can just use your likeness like that,” Hermione said. “We have laws against that sort of thing in the Muggle world.”

“We have them in the magical world, too,” Daphne told her. “I could ask my mother about it.”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t particularly care one way or the other.

“Checkmate,” Tracey declared triumphantly.

Ron stared at the board for a long moment and then looked up at her with a glare.

“Best two out of three.”

Tracey grinned and reset the board with a wave of her wand.

The rest of the train ride was uneventful except for a brief visit from Malfoy. A few insults were traded before there was a loud bang. A cloud of purple smoke enveloped Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, and when it cleared, they were covered in the same purple goo covering Ginny’s clothes.

“Doesn’t look like we quite got it right yet, George,” Fred said.

“Oh, I think it worked just fine,” George grinned.

Malfoy gave them a baleful glare and fled back to his own compartment.

A few hours later, they arrived at Hogwarts and made their way up to the Great Hall. For the first time, Harry got to witness the Sorting Ceremony as a student. The new first years looked just as nervous as he’d felt as they waited in line.

One of the first to be sorted was an excitable blonde boy named Colin Creevey. He was sorted into Gryffindor almost immediately and raced over to the table. Before anyone could greet him, he raised the camera around his neck and snapped a picture that momentarily blinded Harry.

“You’re Harry Potter,” Colin said in awe. “I’ve read all about you.”

“Er, hi,” Harry said awkwardly.

“Down here, Creevey,” Angelina called.

The boy looked torn for a moment, but eventually moved down the table. Harry shot his teammate a grateful look. Several more students were sorted into their houses before Astoria’s name was called. She approached the stool confidently and smiled as the hat was placed on top of her head.

“Ravenclaw!” the hat announced.

Harry clapped with the rest of his classmates. He glanced over at Daphne, wondering if she could be disappointed that her sister wasn’t in Slytherin, but she had a smile on her face.

Ginny Weasley was the second-to-last student called, and the hat was only on her head briefly.

“Gryffindor!” it shouted.

The twins cheered as loudly as humanly possible, and a blushing Ginny joined the table. The last student, Jack Weatherby, was sorted into Hufflepuff. Dumbledore gave his thankfully brief start-of-term speech, and with a clap of his hands, food appeared on the table.

Harry grinned as he filled his plate. This year was looking to be the best year ever.

A/N: I'll be going back to A Friend and Need and Thrown Back now that I've got a solid start to this storm. Both are getting close to their ends and I've been nervous about it. Hopefully what I have planned holds up as well as the rest of those stories. Take care everyone. See you soon.