Title: Vile Violent Vacations 19/30
Author:
hells_half_acre Fandoms: Harry Potter, Supernatural
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Genre: Gen
Warnings: Spoilers for all Harry Potter books, spoilers for Supernatural until 5x10.
Disclaimer: This is a transformative work of fiction for entertainment purposes only.
AN: Sequel to
Damned Demented Demons and
Bobby and Hermione - An Epistolary Fic . Updates every Wednesday (PST).
Previous Chapters:
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2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 AN to Chapter 19: This one's going up 12 hours early, because I won't have access to the internet for most of tomorrow. Lucky you guys!
Summary: In which the Winchesters travel to Hogwarts and Dean pets a cat
Harry waited up for the Winchesters to get back even after Ginny and the kids went to bed. Ron even came over after Hermione was asleep to wait with him and discuss the case. Sam and Dean got home just before midnight and finally related the story of the Malfoy dinner to them - complete with stabbings and drawn weapons. Ron was delighted to say the least, and begged Dean to give him the memory - but Dean refused, much to Ron’s disappointment.
Dean wouldn’t go into detail about the death echo inside Malfoy manor either, claiming that he had promised Malfoy that he and Sam would take care of it and involve Harry as little as possible. It was frustrating and Harry tried to argue, but Dean wouldn’t budge on the subject - and unlike the previous year, Sam seemed reluctant to argue with his brother.
Finally, Ron left and Harry said goodnight and dragged himself off to bed, hoping he could still get six solid hours of sleep. He was awoken a short time later by the chimes going off for Lily’s room - signalling that his youngest had woken up and was fussing.
“Lily,” Harry told Ginny, keeping his eyes shut in an attempt to cling to sleep. Since Ginny had gone to bed first, Harry thought it was only fair that she go tend to Lily and let him sleep.
“Thanks,” Ginny said sarcastically, and Harry felt her shift on the bed.
“Yeah, ‘cause I don’t need sleep,” Harry replied just as sarcastically - really, he couldn’t believe she was giving him a hard time about this. He and the Winchesters had to be at Hogwarts first thing tomorrow morning.
“Mm,” Ginny gave up. Moments later the chimes silenced and Harry let himself fall back asleep in celebration of his victory.
The next thing he knew, someone was tugging at his foot.
“Harry?” Ginny said, “Harry, wake up. Where’s Lily?”
Harry woke up.
“What do you mean ‘where’s Lily’?!” Harry demanded.
“She’s not in her crib!” Ginny said. “Did you put her back in her crib last night, or did you settle her someplace else...”
“You were the last one with her Gin, where did you put her?” Harry asked.
“No, you were the last, remember?” Ginny insisted.
“No, Gin, you were the-" Harry sighed, “for Merlin’s sake, when the chimes went off last night, I told you to go get her and you did.”
“No, you told me that you were going to go get her, and then you did,” Ginny replied. “You said you didn’t need sleep anyway, or something.”
“I was being sarcastic,” Harry said.
“What?!” Ginny threw her hands up. “Don’t be sarcastic to people who are half-asleep! I thought you were being sincere!”
“You were sarcastic first,” Harry defended.
“I was being sincere!” Ginny said.
“What made you think I’d get up to see to Lily when I hadn’t even made it to bed until after midnight? Harry asked in disbelief.
“I don’t know, you said ‘Lily’ and I thought you were explaining that you were going to get her,” Ginny said.
“Well, I wasn’t!” Harry replied.
“Then where is she?!” Ginny asked.
“I don’t know!” Harry said, “but damn it, we should probably stop arguing and find her!”
Harry probably should have known that they would laugh about it later, but at that moment both he and Ginny looked at each other and shared the dawning realization that they were horrible parents. Ginny fled upstairs to check on the boys, and Harry fled downstairs to see if he could find their daughter.
She wasn’t in the study, and the Winchesters had their door tightly closed, so Harry barrelled down the stairs to check the living room and the kitchen...and discovered Dean Winchester, fast asleep on his back on the living room couch with an arm wrapped around a red-haired toddler that was drooling on his chest.
Harry didn’t have to wait long before Ginny came running down the stairs. He quickly held a finger to his lips and pointed toward the sleeping pair. Ginny made an odd cooing noise at the sight, and then carefully walked over and tried to lift Lily off of Dean without waking him.
“Stay baby,” Dean mumbled, and Harry watched as Dean’s grip on Lily tightened.
“Dean,” Ginny said, “I’ve got her. Let go.”
“k, sa,” Dean mumbled, and Ginny carefully picked Lily up - causing the toddler to blink her eyes open slowly. Dean seemed to fall back asleep for a half-second, but before Ginny had even left, he woke with a start, sat bolt upright and started looking around the room like he was missing something.
“Morning Dean,” Harry said calmly, hoping that all Dean needed was to be reminded where he was and what was happening. “Thanks for looking after Lily last night.”
“Mm,” Dean replied, relaxing back into the couch briefly while he blinked at Harry. “No problem, man. I mean, you didn’t get to bed until after midnight...and I was bored, Sammy fell asleep like a pussy.”
“Normal people sleep, Dean,” Sam suddenly said from behind Harry, and Harry’s nearly jumped out of his skin.
“And?” Dean asked. Sam looked displeased and then resigned, and then he just shrugged and wandered off towards the kitchen. Harry had to wonder if there was some argument that Sam had just lost.
“Everything alright?” Harry asked.
“Fine, man,” Dean said, rolling to his feet. “I’m gonna jump in the shower. Save me a pancake.”
*
Sam waited patiently while Harry pried his children off of himself, so that they could take the Floo to somewhere called ‘The Three Broomsticks’. Harry told them they’d be taking the train back at the end of the day, but in the interest of saving time, they would be traveling by fireplace to a village next to the school that morning.
“Who knew kids were so clingy...” Harry said when he finally got Albus to loosen the iron grip he had on Harry’s shirt. Dean smiled, giving Sam a smirk that Sam didn’t care to interpret. Harry looked honestly a little bewildered by it though.
“It’s because they love you, Harry,” Ginny said, which got a broad smile out of Harry.
Finally Sam watched as first Harry and then Dean disappeared in green flames, then it was his turn to go through the fireplace. He gave one last wave at Ginny and the kids, and then he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be swallowed by the tornado until it abruptly ended and he felt Dean catch him.
“Seriously getting sick of that,” Dean said.
Sam opened his eyes to find that they were in what looked like a bar store room. There were kegs and wine bottles lining the walls, and a very attractive older woman appraising them.
“Mornin’ Harry,” she said.
“Madam Rosmerta,” Harry greeted with a smile, “thanks so much for letting me use your Floo.”
“Not a problem, dear,” Madam Rosmeta said, “I’m always up at the crack of dawn hanging around my cellar. It’s not like I run a bar until all hours of the morning...oh wait.”
“I told you that you didn’t have to wake up...” Harry sighed.
“Oh sure,” Madam Rosmerta replied, “and let you bring two mysterious Americans into my establishment without me being able to give them the once over to see if they were trouble makers? I don’t think so. I’ve been around you kids way too long to trust a single bloody one of you.”
“Kids?” Dean said. “I’m thirty-years old.”
“And such a handsome child you are, at that,” Madam Rosmerta winked. She gave them another once over and then winked at Harry. “I suppose they look trustable enough. I couldn’t get the real story out of Hannah, of course, but I suppose I’ll just have to live without it. Alright, love, you make sure the door latches on your way out. I’m going back to bed until I have to open for lunch. It was nice to meet you, gentlemen.”
With that, Madam Rosmerta exited the basement. Sam couldn’t help but watch her go.
“She remind you of Ellen?” Dean suddenly said. “I mean, just picture Ellen in ten years or so, I bet she’ll-”
Dean cut himself off, and Sam didn’t know what to say. He’d been thinking it too.
“Ellen was scarier,” Sam forced out. “She would have had us spilling our guts within five-minutes.”
“Yeah,” Dean agreed, and when Sam finally worked up the courage to look at his brother, he found Dean’s gaze unfocused.
“Um, we should get going,” Harry said. “It’s a bit of a walk to the castle.”
Sam nodded and followed Harry up out of the basement, through the empty bar - which surprisingly looked like every other bar Sam and Dean had ever been in, and then out into the snowy street. Sam hitched his jacket up around him, and looked around the small village.
“Holy shit,” Sam said, “It looks like the middle ages!”
“Welcome to Hogsmead,” Harry replied smiling. “It’s a Wizarding village. They never change much. I mean, Madam Rosmerta’s been the barmaid at the Three Broomsticks since before my parents went to Hogwarts.”
“How the hell...” Dean said, then rephrased. “How is that even possible? She’d be ancient!”
“Wizards have longer life spans, actually,” Harry said. “We usually live over 150 years, if nothing actively kills us - the women even longer.”
“How old are you?” Dean asked, a note of distrust suddenly in his voice. It wasn’t as much of a shock to Sam really - he had read more of the books on wizard history than Dean had, and had put two and two together when he started noticing the birth and death dates.
“Your age,” Harry laughed. “Most people think it’s daft - us having kids so young, me already being Head Auror...but we grew up in a war. I nearly didn’t make it past the age of seventeen... I suppose I’ve never really felt like I’ve had much of a life-span ahead of me.”
“Well, stick with us and you probably won’t,” Dean muttered. Sam really wished he hadn’t heard it, so he just pretended he hadn’t.
“What?” Harry said.
“’s interesting,” Dean replied louder.
Just then, they came to some impressive gates. Harry stopped outside of them and glanced down at his watch.
*
“I told Hagrid to meet us at the gates,” Harry explained. “He’s Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts, and also the gamekeeper, and sometimes the Care of Magical Creatures professor. We could go in without him, of course, but we’ll be busy all day and I thought it might be nice to visit a bit during the walk up to the castle. I hope you don’t mind. “
“No, that’s fine,” Dean said. “Did he go to school with you guys?”
“Sort of,” Harry laughed, “remember what I was saying about wizard life-spans?” Dean and Sam both nodded. “Hagrid actually went to school with Tom Riddle, and was already working at the school when my parents went here. He’s...well, I never really thought about it, but I suppose Hagrid’s around 80 years old now.”
“Got it in one, Harry” a low voice spoke up from behind the gates, and Dean and Sam both turned and realized that the view of the pathway onto the school grounds was blocked - by an enormous chest. Hagrid pulled the gates open as though the heavy iron was made of matchsticks.
“Holy...” Sam said beside him, as Dean slowly craned his neck to look up, up, and further up, until he found a face buried in a deep bushy beard that was going grey in streaks.
“Hello Harry!” Hagrid greeted, and Dean watched in fascination as the beard smiled and the two coal eyes glinted with happiness. “An’ these must be your little Hunter friends,” Hagrid continued, appraising the both of them, his eyes lingering on Sam. “Now aren’t you a tall one!”
“Uh,” Sam said, and Dean thought that pretty much summed it up.
“Now, you two better not be plannin’ to go huntin’ in the Forbidden Forest,” Hagrid said, his voice taking on a gruff warning tone.
“No?” Dean guessed, and then thought about it and amended, “unless, like, there’s something really evil in there...”
“Dean,” Sam said, but Dean ignored him. Sam always got nervous around people who were taller than him. Dean was sort of used to it, though he had to admit, this was a little extreme.
“Don’t worry Hagrid,” Harry said. “I’ll be with them.”
“A’right, Harry,” Hagrid said, “now, come ‘ere. How long’s it been? I think you’ve been workin’ too hard. Always tryin’ to save the world yerself, yeh are.”
Dean watched as Harry hugged Hagrid’s middle, like a kid greeting their Dad when he came home from work. Harry’s arms didn’t even seem to reach half-way around the man. Hagrid patted Harry on the back with one hand that was larger than Harry’s whole head. As soon as Harry let go of Hagrid and stepped back, Dean’s own hand was completely engulfed in one of those hands as well, and then Sam got the same treatment.
“Come on then,” Hagrid said. “Professor McGonagall will be waiting, for yeh”
*
“Hagrid was the first wizard that I ever met,” Harry said, as they walked beside Hagrid down a tree lined path.
“First one yeh remember,” Hagrid amended, patting Harry on the head as if he were all of five. “That muggle family of his were tryin’ to hide ‘im from us, but I got ‘im easy. Took ‘im away from there, if only fer school. Not that it kept Harry out of trouble, mind.”
Harry rolled his eyes.
“How’s Teddy doing at school?” Harry asked, and Hagrid went into a long explanation of how Teddy reminded Hagrid of Teddy’s mother, but had the look of his father most of the time. Sam didn’t pay that much attention to the conversation, truthfully, he was too busy staring at Hagrid and noticing the size of the footprints the man left behind.
Sam tried to imagine Harry as an eleven year-old kid, coming into contact with this giant of a man as his very first contact with wizards, and he had to wonder why it was that Harry hadn’t been frightened. Hagrid was twice Harry’s height now, and Harry was full grown. Sam shot a disbelieving look at Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Hagrid switched into telling Harry about the newest heard of Thestrals, which Sam remembered reading about in the Magical Creatures and Where to Find Them and The Monster Book of Monsters book that Hermione had given them the year before. Sam watched as Harry nodded along enthusiastically as Hagrid told Harry about the young trying to fly for the first time. Hagrid had a deep affection in his voice for both the horses, and for Harry it seemed, and then Sam started to understand.
Sam remembered what Harry had shown and told him in the memory-bowl, how his uncle and aunt had abused him, how at times the school had turned against him...and Sam realized that Harry had never been scared of Hagrid, because despite his size, Hagrid had probably only ever loved and been kind to Harry. Sam couldn’t help but think of Bobby, and how it had destroyed him when he thought Bobby hated him - how when he found out Bobby had been possessed, he didn’t want to mention what he had said, for fear that Bobby actually did feel that way, demon or no demon...and he thought of the relief he had felt when Bobby had told him he was never going to cut him loose.
“Could yer friends here be trusted ‘round the Thestrals?” Sam heard Hagrid ask. Harry glanced back at them, and Sam read the question in his eyes before he even asked.
“Thestrals are skeletal winged horses that can only be seen by those that have witnessed someone die,” Sam stated. “Although commonly believed to be a death omen, they are actually gentle creatures. Unlike regular horses, they’re carnivorous, but pose no threat to humans unless provoked.”
“Jesus, Sam,” Dean said, “I think he was asking if we were going to freak out, not if we knew what the things had for breakfast.”
“Yeh sound like yeh took my class,” Hagrid smiled. “Or yeh sound like Hermione, either way...” Hagrid put his fingers to his mouth and whistled a high pitched whistle. Then, around a small bend in the path, two large black shapes emerged.
Sam took in the large black skeletal horses with wide eyes. Seeing the pictures in the books was one thing, but seeing them up close was quite another. Their skin was tights across their bones, as though they should be dead. Folded against their backs were leathery bat-like wings. Sam only looked briefly at their eyes, but the milky white reminded him too much of the last time he had seen eyes of pure white, and he quickly looked away.
“Oh wow,” Sam said, and even though he knew they were safe creatures. He couldn’t help but feel the tinge of wrongness through his gut, a lifetime of training screaming at him that what he was seeing wasn’t natural. He chanced a glance at Dean, and could tell he was feeling the same way.
The thestral closest to them whinnied, and Sam could see the elongated incisors, used for tearing into flesh. Hagrid walked over and patted it on the head gently.
“The kids these days can’t see ‘em,” Hagrid said. “But I figured it was a good bet you two would be able ta. Similar line of work as Harry, after all, ain’t it. And I know from Hunters, some of ‘em don’t take to big folks, like myself. Figure I must be some sort of monster, just for being as tall as I am.” Hagrid stroked the thestral while it leaned affectionately into him. Sam suddenly wanted to tell Hagrid that he had demon blood in him, just like he had almost told Bill, just because he suddenly realized that Hagrid probably wouldn’t be disgusted at all.
“Why are you so big?” Dean asked.
“Dean,” Sam sighed. He didn’t know much about wizard etiquette, but he somehow figured this was a breach of it.
“M’mum was a giant,” Hagrid said, opening the door on the carriage for Harry to climb in, “and m’dad was human.”
Sam shot a look at Dean and immediately foresaw by his bewildered and astonished expression that whatever question he was going to ask next could not possible be good.
“Dean,” Sam said, “don’t.”
Dean shot him a disappointed glare, but thankfully swallowed the question down. Sam pushed him towards the carriage and then climbed up after him. He, Harry, and Dean all sat on one bench, leaving the other free for Hagrid.
“I’ve never had the nerve to ask either,” Harry whispered to Sam as the carriage creaked under Hagrid’s weight.
Once Hagrid was settled, the horses started back down the path. Sam had to admit that he was impressed they could pull so much weight -though, they were larger than your average horse, and the cart was moving only slowly.
“Have you had any trouble at the school lately?” Dean asked.
“No,” Hagrid said. “A coupla the kids had trouble at home, but they’re older, they are, so they’re doin’ alright. The young’uns haven’t had no trouble that I heard of, an’ Hogwarts is as safe as Gringotts.”
Harry laughed at that.
“Ah Harry,” Hagrid smiled, “that don’t count. After all, yeh broke Gringotts too, didn’t yeh.”
“That I did,” Harry nodded and smiled, and then he sobered a little. “We think that whatever is causing this - it’s going after blood-traitors.”
Hagrid frowned at that.
“Makes sense with what I know, an’ the fact tha’ it’s just the couple of older ones that have had the trouble,” Hagrid nodded. “Leave it to Remus and Tonks to be the only two brave enough to have a baby durin’ the war. All a Teddy’s mates are either pure-blood or muggleborn. Though Vicky’s class is a bit more diverse, what with all the...” Sam watched in fascination as the giant man seemed to blush a little, “well, you know how it was.”
“Baby boom,” Harry said to Sam, and laughed.
“Have you talked to Neville?” Hagrid asked Harry.
“No, but I will while I’m here,” Harry said. “Ernie too.”
Just then the carriage rounded a corner, and the trees that lined the road disappeared. Sam looked over the meadow in front of him, catching sight of a lake in the distance, and then his eyes were drawn upwards, as he took in the castle that stood high above the water. Gothic towers were all wedges in tight together, with raised walkways, and long windows. It was true, Sam had seen it in the memory-bowl last year, but that didn’t stop him from being impressed. He could also see how most of the castle seemed to be made up of newer stone bricks that contrasted with darker bricks that were mostly found towards the bottom of the building.
“Can you imagine what Dad would say?” Dean said beside him, and Sam snorted a laugh.
“You mean what Dad would say about us being taken to wizard school by a half-giant in a carriage pulled by two winged skeleton horses?” Sam said. “I think...he’d probably have an aneurism.”
Harry and Hagrid chatted while they made their way around the lake towards the castle. Sam kept his eyes on the water, wondering if he’d get a glimpse of the giant squid again. Dean remained quiet. Sam left him to his thoughts, though by the look on his face, Sam was starting to think it was a bad idea to do so.
Before he could say anything, they arrived at the castle doors, and Hagrid called the thestrals to a halt. Hagrid unhooked the thestrals from the harnesses and patted them both on the twice on the rump, and Sam watched in awe as their wings unfurled and they both took off into the sky.
“I’ll get them again at the end o’ the day, when I have ta get yeh back to the train,” Hagrid said. “Inna meantime, no reason they can’t be wit’ their family.”
“Thanks Hagrid,” Harry said.
When they entered the building, it was much as Sam remembered it being in the memory-bowl, only, of course, crisper and more real. Dean didn’t seem surprised by anything either, so Sam figured that whatever Harry had shown him last year must have also taken place inside the school. The moving paintings were creepy though, Sam had to admit that. Judging by the way Dean was glaring at them, he felt much the same way.
They climbed staircases and wandered down corridors, and ducked underneath tapestries. If Sam hadn’t known that Harry had attended the school for seven years, he would have a hard time believing that Harry actually knew where they were going. They even got to a large tower full of staircases that shifted and swung from one landing to another at random.
Harry eventually came to a stop in front of a large stone gargoyle.
“Aberdeen,” Harry said, and the gargoyle nodded and moved, revealing a circular stone staircase leading upwards. Sam eyed the gargoyle warily as he passed through the archway and followed Harry and Dean up the stairs. The door at the top of the stairs was open, and Harry walked right in, knocking on frame as he passed.
“Professor?” Harry said, but there was no response.
The office was a large circular room, with a lot of portraits on the wall - mostly all of which were old white dudes. There were a few chairs by the desk, all upholstered in a tartan pattern. Off to the side, in the sunshine by a large window, Sam recognized what could only be a cat bed. The cat itself was sitting on the desk, and like most cats, seemed to be quietly judging him. Sam pulled himself up a little straighter, and shot a questioning look at the cat, and wondered who the heck it thought it was to judge him anyway...and then wondered if he had perhaps lost his mind.
Dean obviously didn’t feel as scrutinized as Sam, because he just walked up to the desk and stroked the cat behind the ear.
“Hey kitty,” Dean said, before turning back to Harry. “So, should we just wait here until she gets back?”
Harry laughed and shook his head.
“Didn’t expect that, did you?” Harry said, and for a second Sam was confused until he realized that Harry was talking to the cat...and then he was more confused.
The cat narrowed its eyes at Harry, ducked out from underneath Dean’s hand, and then leaped from the desk onto the large ornate chair behind it - where the cat promptly turned into an old woman wearing glasses and a tartan dress.
“I’ve always found,” the woman said, as though cats turned into people every day, “that one can judge someone’s character very well by the way they treat animals. You’re aunt and uncle, for instance, chased me off with a broom on more than one occasion.”
“Well,” Harry said, nodding to Dean who stood in front of the desk with his jaw dropped open and his hand still raised where it had been scratching the ears of the cat...woman. “Did they pass your little test then?”
The woman cleared her throat and nodded.
“Unexpectedly so,” she said. “Gentleman, please have a seat.”
Dean’s hand finally dropped and he awkwardly sat on the closest chair. Sam could tell he was still trying to figure out what exactly had happened, and if there had possibly been something about the cat that could have tipped him off. He glanced at Sam, and Sam shrugged.
Sam had thought the cat was a little weird, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why he had thought that. Harry and Sam both pulled up a tartan chair each.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you gentlemen, I’m Headmistress Minerva McGonagall,” Professor McGonagall said. “Now, which one of you is Sam and which one of you is Dean?”
“I’m Sam,” Sam said. “That’s my brother Dean.”
“So, Sam, how was it that you knew I was not an ordinary cat?” Professor McGonagall asked. Sam heard Dean shift in his chair, but didn’t look over at him.
“I didn’t,” Sam admitted, “not really. It’s just...you were staring. I’ve never had a cat stare at me like that.”
“Interesting,” the Professor said. “So, Harry tells me that you’re the Winchesters.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said, not sure whether being the Winchesters was a good or bad thing...well, for the Professor anyway - Sam had his own opinion about the subject.
“I’ve looked over the lesson plan that Harry sent me,” the professor said, pointing to some papers on her desk. “I find it to be apt, given the current...problem...that has...arisen.”
Sam winced.
“The school ghosts have decided to go into hiding for the day,” Professor McGonagall continued. “It seemed they formed the consensus rather quickly after the Fat Friar listened in on my staff meeting on Monday evening. Peeves has been...warned.”
“Peeves is the corporeal poltergeist, right?” Dean asked. “Do you think he’ll go into hiding too? I mean, we promised Harry we wouldn’t shoot the ghosts...but-"
“Dean,” Sam warned, knowing that Dean getting trigger happy was probably not going to endear them to someone in charge of a school of wizard children.
“Sam,” Dean replied, obviously wondering if Sam was missing the point that they would actually have an opportunity to shoot a poltergeist. Sam had to admit, after being thrown into walls since he was twelve, and strangled more times than he could count, it would be pretty damn satisfying to be able to blow away a poltergeist.
“On that topic,” Professor McGonagall interrupted Sam and Dean’s silent conversation. “I’d like you to disarm yourselves while you are in this school.”
“No,” Dean and Sam said at the same time.
“Excuse me?” Professor McGonagall replied, “this is a school full of children, I don’t think it’s appropriate-“
“A school full of armed children,” Dean said, “who are all being watched by armed teachers. Unless you agree to disarm the entire school, Sammy and I are keeping our weapons, thank you very much.”
“They have a point,” Harry said.
“Very well,” Professor McGonagall said, “but Harry, you must stay with them the entire time they are in this school. Also, Professor MacMillan will be sitting in on both teaching sessions.”
“Agreed,” Harry said. Sam and Dean both nodded.
“You will teach years one to three in the morning session,” Professor McGonagall continued. “and years four to seven in the afternoon session. You are, of course, welcome to explore the school while you are here, as long as Harry accompanies you.”
“Thank you,” Sam said.
“The copies of the course material, as well as the supplies that you requested, are prepared and waiting for you in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. We’ve temporarily expanded it to accommodate the larger class sizes today,” Professor McGonagall stated. “Professor MacMillan is waiting for you there.”
“Thanks Professor,” Harry said.
“Harry,” Professor McGonagall said, “don’t make me regret this.”
Chapter 20