Harry Potter and the Ruby Destiny: Year One
I'm actually somewhat afraid to look back and see how long it's been since I last posted. Reasons why: several life sucks moments, bouts of illness, nothing to post ... Also laziness. Laziness is a good excuse. Possibly one of my favorites.
I finally have a new fic for you all! (Yes, *another* one.) Sadly, it's not technically PR, although a couple of PR characters will eventually be seen. But I'm having a surprising amount of fun with it as I plot it out, and that's what counts. This first chapter is rather short, but not much changes from cannon in the first year.
Disclaimer/: If I owned Harry Potter or the Power Rangers, slash fans around the globe would rejoice.
Pairings/: Draco/Harry, Ron/Hermione, Neville/Ginny, Sirius/Remus. Also Ginny/Hermione flirting, and Harry/Ginny suggestiveness.
Author's Notes/: This is a Harry Potter and Power Rangers crossover. And no, it is not a crack fic.
-Waits for those hitting the back button to finish-
I may be shot by my own fandom. Possibly even a new one. Yes, this is a *serious* crossover. But the idea wouldn't leave me alone. And then evil
challon86 encouraged it, and BlackCrimsonLight, who helped with plot issues and more pestering. I blame this entirely on both of you.
Quick note: due to plot developments, Harry's first year now begins in 1997, rather than 1991.
Year One: Philosopher's Stone
Contrary to popular belief, Draco Malfoy was *not* a coward.
He was however, a bully. He liked the feelings of superiority he got whenever someone else cowered before him - it made him feel important. Unfortunately at eleven years old, it was rather hard to be superior to others that weren't actually smaller than him. So he threw his family name around, knowing the respect that it earned his father, and by default (and a common healthy fear of his father) him.
Which was why he was so furious to not only be in detention - for trying to warn someone about *Potter* breaking rules, no less - but to also be slogging through this bloody forest with pathetic Longbottom, who panicked if the wind so much as blew through the trees, and thankfully, that awful Hagrid's dog. As annoying and uncultured as Hagrid might be, at least his dog looked menacing enough.
The three of them tromped through the Forbidden Forest in silence, other than Longbottom's whimpering and Fang's panting. It was dark, cold, and Draco wanted nothing more than to be warm in his bed right now. Curled up with a good book and some hot chocolate, some decent music playing in the background - not that awful classical stuff that his mum made him listen to.
Draco swore abruptly as something tripped him, knocking him flat.
Neville gave a slight screech, spinning around and clutching his wand close. "W-what is it? What's happened?" he squeaked in terror.
Despite being face-first in the dirt, Draco still somehow managed to roll his eyes. "If you'd open your eyes you great imbecile, you might happen to notice that I've fallen."
He ignored whatever Neville sputtered in response, pushing himself to his knees as he searched for where he'd dropped his wand. He fumbled around for a few minutes, sighing in relief to himself as his fingers closed over it at last. Coward or not, the familiar feeling of his wand in his hand made him feel much safer in this hellish place. He was about to climb back to his feet when he caught sight of something glimmering out of the corner of his eye. He reached for it without thinking.
The moment his fingers closed around the object, a strange sensation swept over him. Not quite a chill, but not a warm feeling either. It was hard to describe exactly what he felt in that instant, but he knew it wasn't a bad feeling. Somewhere between surprise, dread, and anticipation, with a strange misplaced sense of familiarity.
He shook his head abruptly, glaring up at Longbottom. "Well? What are you waiting for you big oaf? Let's move on then."
Neville frowned, biting his lip. "You sure you're all right?" he persisted.
Draco sneered at the awful habit as well as his concern. "No, Longbottom. I'm in agony. Call a healer - I think I'm dying." He rolled his eyes theatrically, pretending to swoon.
A feeling of disapproval swelled, and he realized abruptly it wasn't coming from him.
His eyes snapped down to the object in his hand. He couldn't see the details in the dark, but it looked to be some sort of armband. And glimmering in it's center, some sort of jewel.
The feeling grew stronger as he stared at the jewel, and Draco stumbled in surprise.
His hand shot out as he instinctively tried to prevent himself from falling again. Neville screamed as the hand landed on his back, Fang howled and dove behind a tree, burying his face in his paws, and Draco struggled to regain his balance. A burst of bright red sparks shot into the air, and he stared at Neville, incensed. "Brilliant, Longbottom," he growled irritably, trying to hide the fact that his heart was still pounding. "Bloody brilliant. No wonder they shuffled you off to Hufflepuff. No brains *or* courage in you, apparently."
The feeling returned with a sudden flare as Neville stared at him, fighting tears. "You surprised me," he mumbled miserably, looking pathetic. "I ... I thought - "
"Well *obviously*, you thought wrong," Draco snapped.
He winced, a hand going to touch his chest. Bloody forest. There was a *reason* it was forbidden after all. Something in the air must be affecting him, making him feel strange things.
It wasn't until much later, after the stupid gamekeeper had refused to believe Neville's panic attack had been an accident, after being forced to wander around with Potter, and after seeing ... whatever that thing was, that he had time to reflect again. He had run back to warn Hagrid they'd found the monster, but rather than be stupid enough to remain behind and wait to meet up with it again, he'd rushed back to the school, to his dorm room, and jumped into his bed. Self-preservation took precedence over any other feelings he might have had in that moment. He knew instinctively that whatever that creature had been, he did not wish to be *anywhere* near it.
Suitably calmed at last, he finally examined the object he'd found, somewhat surprised to see that he had actually brought it with him. It was an armband, just as he had thought, done in a thick silver band with delicate etchings of stars and fleur de lis around the delicate metal. The jewel he'd noticed was apparently a large black stone cut in the shape of a star.
Onyx Star.
Draco blinked. "Onyx Star?" he echoed softly. He didn't know where the thought had came from, or what made him speak it aloud.
The black star-shaped jewel sparkled, seeming to flicker.
He stared down at it, wide-eyed. While he'd seen many sentient objects in his father's things, he'd never seen a jewel like this before. He hesitated, then slowly brought the band closer to his face. "Did you ... Are *you* the Onyx Star?"
The jewel flickered again, almost seeming to glow with black light.
Draco swallowed. He'd picked up a piece of cursed jewelry. Father was going to kill him.
And yet the next morning, he still found himself putting the arm band on his left upper arm. Even then, he knew somehow that he would never take it off again.
****
"As for the stone, I am afraid it must remain in your possession. You see, it seems to have taken a liking to you."
Harry stared blankly at Dumbledore as the headmaster's eyes twinkled. "What?"
"You seemed awfully determined to retrieve the stone, Harry," Dumbledore commented, seemingly changing the subject.
Harry blinked. "I ... I didn't want Snape to - I mean, it seemed like it was best to keep the stone safe," he tried weakly.
"That's Professor Snape, Harry. That was an admirable thought, and very true," Dumbledore agreed mildly, his eyes meeting Harry's. "But why did you feel that *you* must be the one to protect it?"
Harry hesitated, faltering at last before those calm, understanding eyes. "I don't know, Sir," he confessed quietly. "I just ... did."
Dumbledore nodded. "As I said, it seems the stone has taken a liking to you, as it is no longer able to be removed from your person."
"What?" Harry sat up in alarm. Fumbling, he reached for his pocket. Sure enough, he removed the Philosopher's Stone, sparkling merrily in his hand.
He regarded it in horror. "But I can't - this isn't mine! Sir, surely you should - " He tried to hold out the stone to Dumbledore, but it flashed brightly, nearly blinding them both. Anger surged through him suddenly, and he found himself clutching the stone close again.
Dumbledore smiled gently at him. "As you can see, the stone does not wish to be separated from you."
Harry stared at first the stone, then the headmaster, bewildered. "But ... Why?"
"That, I suspect, is something you will learn in the future. More importantly, it seems that you are now the guardian of the Philosopher's Stone." Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell no one that you possess it Harry, not even your dearest friends. For that is an object of great power, and I find that such things tend to attract trouble all on their own. It is best to keep this between us."
Harry did not like this idea at all, but he supposed the headmaster knew best. "What do I say if anyone asks what happened to it?"
"Tell them that it has been destroyed, and that Nicolas and his wife will be setting their affairs in order."
"But ... won't they die?"
Dumbledore smiled at the look of concern and guilt on Harry's face. "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."
He reached out to pat Harry's arm. "That is enough questions for the moment, I think. Now, you have plenty of gifts to enjoy, and lots of rest to catch up on. I shall leave you to it."
But Harry remained awake for a long time after that, even after Ron and Hermione had finally been forced to leave. His hand drifted to his pocket, removing the stone again so that he could hold it up to look at it properly in the light.
It didn't look so much like a stone to him, really. Maybe a ruby. He'd seen a few rubies among Aunt Petunia's jewelry before. Those were cut and polished however; his ruby was a large, roughly shaped chunk about the size of his fist. It was inelegant and crude, but he thought he rather liked it that way.
The stone seemed to shine back at him, and he suddenly felt very pleased.
****
The ending feast was as grand as Harry had hoped it would be, even if he did find himself the center of attention more so than usual. The Weasley twins seemed to have designated themselves as his protectors, sitting on either side of him without warning or invitation, loudly changing the subject whenever anyone tried to ask him about the whole business of the Philosopher's Stone and the forbidden corridor, and Professor Quirrell's untimely demise. It was rather nice to be honest, but he still felt a bit guilty, shooting glances every once in awhile to Hufflepuff's table. While Ron claimed to have come to accept his place in Hufflepuff House, and even be proud of it, Harry knew he still often wished he had been in Gryffindor with Percy and the twins.
He glanced again at where Ron sat with Ernie Macmillian, Zacharias Smith, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Currently they were laughing at Neville Longbottom - though not in a particularly unkind way - who was looking utterly pathetic from whatever he was currently upset over. Hermione was across from Ron at Ravenclaw's table, together with Padma Patil, Mandy Brocklehurst, Lisa Turpin, and Penelope Clearwater, all with their heads bent together over something. Hermione was lecturing again, but the other girls at least seemed to be trying to argue back this time - no small feat, as Hermione was stubborn when it came to things she knew.
He missed them.
While he liked Seamus and Dean well enough, it just wasn't the same as his friendship with Ron and Hermione. The three of them had been through too much together. It hurt not to be able to sit together for dinner, and once again he found himself hating this whole 'House' business. He supposed it made sense in it's own way, but it was silly, too. Look at the Weasleys: while Percy tried to make awkward conversations and claimed he didn't mind that Ron was the only member of his family not a Gryffindor, the twins seemed to enjoy tormenting his friend even more. He knew Ron secretly dreaded next year, when his younger sister would finally be joining them at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore's arrival was a relief, and Harry listened to his words with the rest of them.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were .... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts ....
"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and two points; in third, Ravenclaw, with three hundred and seventy-six; Gryffindor has four hundred and twelve and Slytherin, four hundred and twenty-two."
A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.
"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."
The room went very still. The Slytherin's smiles faded a little.
"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes ...
"First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley ... "
Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.
". .. for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Hufflepuff house fifty points."
Hufflepuff cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Even Gryffindor was pleased: Percy would be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"
At last there was silence again.
"Second - to Miss Hermione Granger ... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Ravenclaw house fifty points."
Hermione buried her face in her arms; Harry strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors all over the Great Hall were beside themselves - Ravenclaw was now ahead of Slytherin in points.
Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.
"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."
Again Hufflepuff house burst into loud cheers and applause, and Neville, white with shock, nearly disappeared in the group of people hugging him. While Hufflepuff remained in last place, the gap had been narrowed. And most importantly was Neville, who had never won so much as a point for Hufflepuff before.
"And finally - to Mr. Harry Potter ... " said Dumbledore. "The room went deadly quiet. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."
Someone standing outside the Great Hall might have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Although that may have had something to do with Fred and George; Harry couldn't be sure. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs cheered, ecstatic that Slytherin had been denied the house cup, even if they hadn't won it for themselves.
"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, "We need a little change of decoration."
He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver banner became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible, forced smile. He caught Harry's eye and Harry knew at once that Snape’s feelings toward him had changed one jot. This didn't worry Harry. It seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts.
It was the best evening of Harry's life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls, or finding mystical rubies that refused to belong to anyone but him ... he would never, ever forget tonight.
****
Surrounded by Goyle, Crabbe, Pansy, and Blaise, Draco couldn't be bothered to pay attention to the conversation, even if they were complaining about the unfairness of the way they'd lost the house cup - all a ploy from Dumbledore to keep Harry Potter happy, they were sure. Normally, Draco would have agreed with them. Possibly even gone off to find Potter and teach him a lesson about thinking himself greater than everyone else.
But at the moment, he stared out the window, watching the countryside go by as the train raced back toward London. His right hand had come up to clasp his upper left arm as his shoulder leaned against the window. Almost absently, his fingers stroked the Onyx Star through the fabric, and a feeling of contentment settled over him. Contentment that he finally understood was not his own.
He didn't know why he had the Onyx Star. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with it. But it was his, and they'd have to pry it from his cold fingers before he'd ever give it up.
Whatever it meant.
I finally have a new fic for you all! (Yes, *another* one.) Sadly, it's not technically PR, although a couple of PR characters will eventually be seen. But I'm having a surprising amount of fun with it as I plot it out, and that's what counts. This first chapter is rather short, but not much changes from cannon in the first year.
Disclaimer/: If I owned Harry Potter or the Power Rangers, slash fans around the globe would rejoice.
Pairings/: Draco/Harry, Ron/Hermione, Neville/Ginny, Sirius/Remus. Also Ginny/Hermione flirting, and Harry/Ginny suggestiveness.
Author's Notes/: This is a Harry Potter and Power Rangers crossover. And no, it is not a crack fic.
-Waits for those hitting the back button to finish-
I may be shot by my own fandom. Possibly even a new one. Yes, this is a *serious* crossover. But the idea wouldn't leave me alone. And then evil
challon86 encouraged it, and BlackCrimsonLight, who helped with plot issues and more pestering. I blame this entirely on both of you.
Quick note: due to plot developments, Harry's first year now begins in 1997, rather than 1991.
Year One: Philosopher's Stone
Contrary to popular belief, Draco Malfoy was *not* a coward.
He was however, a bully. He liked the feelings of superiority he got whenever someone else cowered before him - it made him feel important. Unfortunately at eleven years old, it was rather hard to be superior to others that weren't actually smaller than him. So he threw his family name around, knowing the respect that it earned his father, and by default (and a common healthy fear of his father) him.
Which was why he was so furious to not only be in detention - for trying to warn someone about *Potter* breaking rules, no less - but to also be slogging through this bloody forest with pathetic Longbottom, who panicked if the wind so much as blew through the trees, and thankfully, that awful Hagrid's dog. As annoying and uncultured as Hagrid might be, at least his dog looked menacing enough.
The three of them tromped through the Forbidden Forest in silence, other than Longbottom's whimpering and Fang's panting. It was dark, cold, and Draco wanted nothing more than to be warm in his bed right now. Curled up with a good book and some hot chocolate, some decent music playing in the background - not that awful classical stuff that his mum made him listen to.
Draco swore abruptly as something tripped him, knocking him flat.
Neville gave a slight screech, spinning around and clutching his wand close. "W-what is it? What's happened?" he squeaked in terror.
Despite being face-first in the dirt, Draco still somehow managed to roll his eyes. "If you'd open your eyes you great imbecile, you might happen to notice that I've fallen."
He ignored whatever Neville sputtered in response, pushing himself to his knees as he searched for where he'd dropped his wand. He fumbled around for a few minutes, sighing in relief to himself as his fingers closed over it at last. Coward or not, the familiar feeling of his wand in his hand made him feel much safer in this hellish place. He was about to climb back to his feet when he caught sight of something glimmering out of the corner of his eye. He reached for it without thinking.
The moment his fingers closed around the object, a strange sensation swept over him. Not quite a chill, but not a warm feeling either. It was hard to describe exactly what he felt in that instant, but he knew it wasn't a bad feeling. Somewhere between surprise, dread, and anticipation, with a strange misplaced sense of familiarity.
He shook his head abruptly, glaring up at Longbottom. "Well? What are you waiting for you big oaf? Let's move on then."
Neville frowned, biting his lip. "You sure you're all right?" he persisted.
Draco sneered at the awful habit as well as his concern. "No, Longbottom. I'm in agony. Call a healer - I think I'm dying." He rolled his eyes theatrically, pretending to swoon.
A feeling of disapproval swelled, and he realized abruptly it wasn't coming from him.
His eyes snapped down to the object in his hand. He couldn't see the details in the dark, but it looked to be some sort of armband. And glimmering in it's center, some sort of jewel.
The feeling grew stronger as he stared at the jewel, and Draco stumbled in surprise.
His hand shot out as he instinctively tried to prevent himself from falling again. Neville screamed as the hand landed on his back, Fang howled and dove behind a tree, burying his face in his paws, and Draco struggled to regain his balance. A burst of bright red sparks shot into the air, and he stared at Neville, incensed. "Brilliant, Longbottom," he growled irritably, trying to hide the fact that his heart was still pounding. "Bloody brilliant. No wonder they shuffled you off to Hufflepuff. No brains *or* courage in you, apparently."
The feeling returned with a sudden flare as Neville stared at him, fighting tears. "You surprised me," he mumbled miserably, looking pathetic. "I ... I thought - "
"Well *obviously*, you thought wrong," Draco snapped.
He winced, a hand going to touch his chest. Bloody forest. There was a *reason* it was forbidden after all. Something in the air must be affecting him, making him feel strange things.
It wasn't until much later, after the stupid gamekeeper had refused to believe Neville's panic attack had been an accident, after being forced to wander around with Potter, and after seeing ... whatever that thing was, that he had time to reflect again. He had run back to warn Hagrid they'd found the monster, but rather than be stupid enough to remain behind and wait to meet up with it again, he'd rushed back to the school, to his dorm room, and jumped into his bed. Self-preservation took precedence over any other feelings he might have had in that moment. He knew instinctively that whatever that creature had been, he did not wish to be *anywhere* near it.
Suitably calmed at last, he finally examined the object he'd found, somewhat surprised to see that he had actually brought it with him. It was an armband, just as he had thought, done in a thick silver band with delicate etchings of stars and fleur de lis around the delicate metal. The jewel he'd noticed was apparently a large black stone cut in the shape of a star.
Onyx Star.
Draco blinked. "Onyx Star?" he echoed softly. He didn't know where the thought had came from, or what made him speak it aloud.
The black star-shaped jewel sparkled, seeming to flicker.
He stared down at it, wide-eyed. While he'd seen many sentient objects in his father's things, he'd never seen a jewel like this before. He hesitated, then slowly brought the band closer to his face. "Did you ... Are *you* the Onyx Star?"
The jewel flickered again, almost seeming to glow with black light.
Draco swallowed. He'd picked up a piece of cursed jewelry. Father was going to kill him.
And yet the next morning, he still found himself putting the arm band on his left upper arm. Even then, he knew somehow that he would never take it off again.
****
"As for the stone, I am afraid it must remain in your possession. You see, it seems to have taken a liking to you."
Harry stared blankly at Dumbledore as the headmaster's eyes twinkled. "What?"
"You seemed awfully determined to retrieve the stone, Harry," Dumbledore commented, seemingly changing the subject.
Harry blinked. "I ... I didn't want Snape to - I mean, it seemed like it was best to keep the stone safe," he tried weakly.
"That's Professor Snape, Harry. That was an admirable thought, and very true," Dumbledore agreed mildly, his eyes meeting Harry's. "But why did you feel that *you* must be the one to protect it?"
Harry hesitated, faltering at last before those calm, understanding eyes. "I don't know, Sir," he confessed quietly. "I just ... did."
Dumbledore nodded. "As I said, it seems the stone has taken a liking to you, as it is no longer able to be removed from your person."
"What?" Harry sat up in alarm. Fumbling, he reached for his pocket. Sure enough, he removed the Philosopher's Stone, sparkling merrily in his hand.
He regarded it in horror. "But I can't - this isn't mine! Sir, surely you should - " He tried to hold out the stone to Dumbledore, but it flashed brightly, nearly blinding them both. Anger surged through him suddenly, and he found himself clutching the stone close again.
Dumbledore smiled gently at him. "As you can see, the stone does not wish to be separated from you."
Harry stared at first the stone, then the headmaster, bewildered. "But ... Why?"
"That, I suspect, is something you will learn in the future. More importantly, it seems that you are now the guardian of the Philosopher's Stone." Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell no one that you possess it Harry, not even your dearest friends. For that is an object of great power, and I find that such things tend to attract trouble all on their own. It is best to keep this between us."
Harry did not like this idea at all, but he supposed the headmaster knew best. "What do I say if anyone asks what happened to it?"
"Tell them that it has been destroyed, and that Nicolas and his wife will be setting their affairs in order."
"But ... won't they die?"
Dumbledore smiled at the look of concern and guilt on Harry's face. "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."
He reached out to pat Harry's arm. "That is enough questions for the moment, I think. Now, you have plenty of gifts to enjoy, and lots of rest to catch up on. I shall leave you to it."
But Harry remained awake for a long time after that, even after Ron and Hermione had finally been forced to leave. His hand drifted to his pocket, removing the stone again so that he could hold it up to look at it properly in the light.
It didn't look so much like a stone to him, really. Maybe a ruby. He'd seen a few rubies among Aunt Petunia's jewelry before. Those were cut and polished however; his ruby was a large, roughly shaped chunk about the size of his fist. It was inelegant and crude, but he thought he rather liked it that way.
The stone seemed to shine back at him, and he suddenly felt very pleased.
****
The ending feast was as grand as Harry had hoped it would be, even if he did find himself the center of attention more so than usual. The Weasley twins seemed to have designated themselves as his protectors, sitting on either side of him without warning or invitation, loudly changing the subject whenever anyone tried to ask him about the whole business of the Philosopher's Stone and the forbidden corridor, and Professor Quirrell's untimely demise. It was rather nice to be honest, but he still felt a bit guilty, shooting glances every once in awhile to Hufflepuff's table. While Ron claimed to have come to accept his place in Hufflepuff House, and even be proud of it, Harry knew he still often wished he had been in Gryffindor with Percy and the twins.
He glanced again at where Ron sat with Ernie Macmillian, Zacharias Smith, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Currently they were laughing at Neville Longbottom - though not in a particularly unkind way - who was looking utterly pathetic from whatever he was currently upset over. Hermione was across from Ron at Ravenclaw's table, together with Padma Patil, Mandy Brocklehurst, Lisa Turpin, and Penelope Clearwater, all with their heads bent together over something. Hermione was lecturing again, but the other girls at least seemed to be trying to argue back this time - no small feat, as Hermione was stubborn when it came to things she knew.
He missed them.
While he liked Seamus and Dean well enough, it just wasn't the same as his friendship with Ron and Hermione. The three of them had been through too much together. It hurt not to be able to sit together for dinner, and once again he found himself hating this whole 'House' business. He supposed it made sense in it's own way, but it was silly, too. Look at the Weasleys: while Percy tried to make awkward conversations and claimed he didn't mind that Ron was the only member of his family not a Gryffindor, the twins seemed to enjoy tormenting his friend even more. He knew Ron secretly dreaded next year, when his younger sister would finally be joining them at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore's arrival was a relief, and Harry listened to his words with the rest of them.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were .... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts ....
"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and two points; in third, Ravenclaw, with three hundred and seventy-six; Gryffindor has four hundred and twelve and Slytherin, four hundred and twenty-two."
A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.
"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."
The room went very still. The Slytherin's smiles faded a little.
"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes ...
"First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley ... "
Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.
". .. for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Hufflepuff house fifty points."
Hufflepuff cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Even Gryffindor was pleased: Percy would be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"
At last there was silence again.
"Second - to Miss Hermione Granger ... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Ravenclaw house fifty points."
Hermione buried her face in her arms; Harry strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors all over the Great Hall were beside themselves - Ravenclaw was now ahead of Slytherin in points.
Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.
"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."
Again Hufflepuff house burst into loud cheers and applause, and Neville, white with shock, nearly disappeared in the group of people hugging him. While Hufflepuff remained in last place, the gap had been narrowed. And most importantly was Neville, who had never won so much as a point for Hufflepuff before.
"And finally - to Mr. Harry Potter ... " said Dumbledore. "The room went deadly quiet. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."
Someone standing outside the Great Hall might have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Although that may have had something to do with Fred and George; Harry couldn't be sure. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs cheered, ecstatic that Slytherin had been denied the house cup, even if they hadn't won it for themselves.
"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, "We need a little change of decoration."
He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver banner became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible, forced smile. He caught Harry's eye and Harry knew at once that Snape’s feelings toward him had changed one jot. This didn't worry Harry. It seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts.
It was the best evening of Harry's life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls, or finding mystical rubies that refused to belong to anyone but him ... he would never, ever forget tonight.
****
Surrounded by Goyle, Crabbe, Pansy, and Blaise, Draco couldn't be bothered to pay attention to the conversation, even if they were complaining about the unfairness of the way they'd lost the house cup - all a ploy from Dumbledore to keep Harry Potter happy, they were sure. Normally, Draco would have agreed with them. Possibly even gone off to find Potter and teach him a lesson about thinking himself greater than everyone else.
But at the moment, he stared out the window, watching the countryside go by as the train raced back toward London. His right hand had come up to clasp his upper left arm as his shoulder leaned against the window. Almost absently, his fingers stroked the Onyx Star through the fabric, and a feeling of contentment settled over him. Contentment that he finally understood was not his own.
He didn't know why he had the Onyx Star. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with it. But it was his, and they'd have to pry it from his cold fingers before he'd ever give it up.
Whatever it meant.