And after a lot of faffing and failing to get started... here begins the second instalment in the fanfic universe of I Did Nothing. I am still not anywhere near finished with editing the original fanfic, but as I got an idea of where to start with this one, I thought I'd better write it down before it ran away and hid in the shadows somewhere, never to be found again. I don't deny, it's a bit of a fluff beginning, but it is a beginning after all, and everything has to start somewhere.

And yes, please review... I may have gotten a fair few years older but some things don't change and my love of reviews is one of them!

Chapter 1: A New Year

Glancing at my watch, I let out a deep sigh. I stand stiffly, old bones protesting just how long I have been sat in this chair without any semblance of movement. At one point in my long forgotten youth, I truly believed that the holiday season was for the Hogwarts professors as much as the students. That fantasy has long since been wiped clean from my thoughts and this summer has proved to be even more taxing than the usual run of the mill routines. Trying to put the new curriculum into place has proved tiresome; every time I think we are getting somewhere, we somehow hit another stumbling block. There's always something, however small or minute; something always crops up, demanding our attention. And that's just the curriculum. Don't get me started on the people.

We're getting there though, that's the important thing. But for now it is time to put the reading lists away and actually relax for the first time this summer, even if only for a handful of hours. It'll be good to get out of here for a while and I have to admit to myself, it will be good to see the Potter boy again. I've dropped in a handful of times over the break to reassure myself of Bathilda's competence with the child, but not for any extended period of time. The little I have seen of him was encouraging mind you; Bathilda has managed to put some weight on his bones which even Hogwarts good food didn't quite manage. We did our best mind, and he certainly wasn't looking quite as pasty by the end of the school year.

Stretching deeply, I step towards the floo and take a deep breath. The darkly furnished room that I step into is as immaculately kept as ever, but balloons, banners and lights are festooned across the place. I duck automatically as something fizzes harmlessly over my head, followed by a catapulting head of red hair that doesn't even stop to look in my direction. That had to be a Weasley. One of the younger ones by the general height and build, I would guess. That reminds me, I'll be completing my Weasley collection this year if all goes as expected. Well, whatever young Ginevra brings to Gryffindor house, she can hardly cause any more trouble that her brothers have in years past. After all, these things are sent to try us.

"Would you like a drink, Professor?" The small voice greets me as I look around with a genuine smile. I look down to see young Potter glancing up at me, his emerald eyes shining beneath the edges of his fringe. "We've got coffee and pumpkin juice and exploding lemonade and milk and tea and well, loads more as well!"

"Now, that does sound like an impressive selection of beverages, young man," I remark lightly, floating the wrapped box I'm holding onto the top of what is becoming quite a tower of presents. "And with a range like that, I really ought to go and investigate for myself, don't you think? After all, you're the birthday boy! You oughtn't to be serving drinks on your own birthday!"

"I don't mind, Professor," the boy remarks shyly, glancing around at the brightly decorated room and the mountain of presents awaiting his attention. "I get to thank everyone for coming this way. I didn't expect so many people to come. I'll show you to the drinks, shall I?"

"So, just who is here?" I inquire, allowing myself to be led out of the darkly polished room and into a surprisingly spacious kitchen area, activity spilling out into the garden beyond as people bustle food and various interesting looking items between the spaces. It doesn't escape my notice that somewhere along the way, what looks to be the entire range of Zonko's Joke Shop has been smuggled in by somebody. Naming no names, but I have my suspicions. "I can see a few Weasley faces for a start."

"Nearly all of the Weasleys came along, and Mrs Weasley brought a huge cake with her," Harry explains excitedly as he steers me to the drinks table, which indeed is loaded with just about every form of refreshment one could possibly imagine. It does my heart good to see Harry so naively pleased with the attention. Oh, to be young and excited over a cake. "Neville and Hermione are here as well, so is Mr Lupin and some other people Bathilda has introduced me to like the Bones, the Diggory and the Tonks families."

Well, Bathilda had mentioned that she was slowly introducing Harry to several other prominent families. Most wizarding children have been in and out of each other's houses since they could walk, unlike Harry who has been isolated near enough his entire life from the world that is his heritage and his birth right. It's interesting that two of the families Harry has mentioned have children significantly older than him though. I suppose it makes a certain amount of sense; it introduces the boy to those he wouldn't ordinarily come across in Hogwarts. After all, only the first years with older siblings routinely pester the upper years. I do note that Bathilda has chosen respectable, light families with which to introduce the child. I shouldn't be biased, but I can't help being relieved regardless.

"Most important of all though," I remark as I help myself to a gillywater. Despite how long the day has seemed, it is perhaps unfortunately early for anything stronger. "How are you enjoying your party?"

"It's amazing!" The boy gushes, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "It's even better than Dudley's old parties! Nobody's ever…"

His voice tails off, but a friendly bellow from the living room catches his attention and he grins back up at me, whatever he was about to say all but forgotten.

"Thank you for coming, Professor!"

Then without another word, he darts off to find the owner of the voice that just heralded him so urgently. I watch with a smile and settle myself down into a comfortable chair I've just summoned rather lazily. The noise and bustle goes on around me as I sip my gillywater and simply soak in the atmosphere around me. Children seem to be everywhere, running and darting, screeching and laughing. It's a sight for sore eyes and it's wonderful to see Harry caught up in the middle of it, doing those things you would expect a normal child to do. Whatever my initial doubts about Bathilda, I can't deny that she is doing a wonderful job with our boy.

"He's come on leaps and bounds, hasn't he?" Remus' gentle voice brings me out of my contemplations, and I find him watching the scene around us with the same slight satisfaction that is likely on my face. "From that frightened mouse of a boy I met last year to well, this… You'd hardly believe it's the same child."

"I was just thinking the same," I admit wryly, watching Harry and Ron tear about the garden on broomsticks, clearly playing some kind of game but one in which the rules will continue to baffle me. Neville on the ground seems to be awarding points for various feats of skill or daring, whilst Hermione sits to one side with her head rather predictably buried in a book. "It's like a miracle."

"No miracle, Minerva," Remus says gruffly, as he shakes his head. "There is no heavenly intervention about this at all. This is all on you and Severus. And Bathilda of course. I dread to think what would have happened if you hadn't stepped in when you did. It beggar's belief that it had to come to that in the first place."

"We did what any responsible adult would have done, Remus." I reply gently, my eyes still following the two boys in the air, whooping like mad beings. Several others have started to collect brooms now and I suspect it's going to be a free for all in the air within minutes. Even the Diggory boy, despite the age difference between them, has been collected and chivvied into the air. "You'd have done no different."

"I wasn't there to make that difference," Remus says softly. "I believed Albus and kept my distance. You were there for the cub."

"From what Bathilda's told me, you've likely spent more time here with the boy than at home these last few weeks," I chide him gently. "To each be their own place; mine was at Hogwarts and even then, it took Severus to point it out to me before I really cottoned on. We all have our blind spots. Albus was perhaps mine as well. But those days have passed."

"I think we all had a blind spot where Albus was concerned," Remus agrees bleakly. "I somehow thought him infallible. I of all people should have known better. After all, Albus's discretion nearly got a boy killed all those years back."

"No, Sirius's stupidity almost got Severus killed," I remark sharply, cutting the man off before he has a chance to get maudlin on me. "And it's hardly as if he hasn't done penance for every Merlin damned stupid thing he ever set his mind to do and then more besides that. What's done is done. We can only change the future, Remus. But just look at what a future we are creating."

The weary puff of laughter from beside me is enough to let me know that Remus has taken my point. For it isn't just the sight of these children here and now, but the knowledge that we have over-turned the education of our young witches and wizards in such a way that hasn't been seen in centuries. Through our changes, we will have helped to shape a change that will reverberate through the years, offering both knowledge and practical experience that will set young hearts ablaze. And in that future stands these children. Through them we will make Hogwarts great once again. Through them we will shape the future.

"Happy birthday to you…" I turn at the sound of the singing, only to watch the most unbelievable cake float before a small swarm of people. Molly has done herself proud and I can't help but simply stare at it in amazement. It is a full-sized replica of the Nimbus 2000 that Harry himself swoops down to the ground on; each twig and branch included individually, the handle gleaming as though it had been newly polished. And resting gently on the stick, its wings fluttering softly as the broom glides across the garden, is a perfectly detailed Golden Snitch, not quite hovering but somehow looking as though it could soar off at any moment. "Happy birthday to you…"

I recover enough of my wits to join in with the growing chorus of voices.

"Happy birthday, dear Harry! Happy birthday to you…"

The boy has clearly seen the cake before, but even still, his eyes are caught by the intricate detail displayed within it. His breath catches as he reaches out a hand toward it, only to find the Golden Snitch buzzes as he does so and the small, golden ball hovers up to rest lightly in the palm of his hand. With what could almost be considered a contented purr, the wings furl up into the ball and it becomes still and silent. I hear Molly's chuckle from behind me.

"I'm glad that worked," she mutters, more to herself than anyone else I feel. "I didn't know if I'd instilled enough magic into the thing to make that party trick fly…"

"It seems a shame to cut it up," I respond in an equally low-key tone, not wanting to interrupt the excited squeals and astonishment surrounding the cake. "It's a work of art, Molly, it really is."

"Oh, it's not that special, Minerva!" Molly's tone is flustered, but the pink flush rising up her cheeks is mark enough that she is pleased with the compliment. "Ron told me that Harry had never had his own birthday cake, would you believe it? Now, I couldn't be having that! No. It was the least I could do."

"It's wonderful, Molly, it truly is," I repeat, true admiration colouring my tone. "I think that's possibly the best present you could have got him."

Our conversation is cut short as the cake is ceremoniously cut, showing the caramel infused layers throughout. Small hands dart in to grab a slice before it's gone, as though a cake that size is going to be finished off today even by this ravenous hoard of youngsters. The general clamour and bustle is reduced to appreciative murmurs and the occasional grubby fingers reaching out for seconds… or perhaps thirds. I have to admit; Molly's efforts taste as divine as they look and I tell her so. Looking around, I can't see anyone who might disagree with me.

"So, has Percy decided what electives he's going to take for his IMP's?" I ask Molly, as I finish off the cake and look wistfully at the remaining slices. Maybe I'll get a second piece later to take home… "I imagine the curriculum change must have come as quite a shock to him."

I don't imagine at all, as it happens. Percy had his O.W.L's planned out long before we even handed out the options to students. It goes without saying that he's had his N.E.W.T's planned for the better part of a year already. I can't imagine him dropping any of his core classes, but with his rigidly defined mind-set, I'm not entirely sure which of the new electives he will be going for.

"Oh, you should have heard him going on about it!" Molly exclaims with a laugh, confirming my suspicions. "Ever since the letters came through, he's been mithering and dithering about it all hours of the day and night. I swear blind the boy has been dreaming about it! Not that it's much of a surprise given how much time he spent researching all the options. He even went to the trouble of finding detailed biographies on all of your planned staff changes. I swear he knows more about his prospective professors than they know about themselves!"

"That sounds like Percy," I agree warmly. "Did he reach a decision in the end?"

"Well, of course he plans on keeping Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Runes and Arithmancy," Molly confirms, ticking them off on her fingers as she goes. "Magical Theory was definitely on his top list last I heard, as is Human Transfiguration and Wandless Magic. Then I believe he was either interested in Ritualistic Magic which means he'd need Defence, Herbology and Astronomy or possibly Spellcraft instead which would only need Defence and World Magics… I think he's likely going to edge towards Spellcraft as that will allow him to add in either Bulgarian or French which he is determined will be useful in the Ministry.

Molly's voice peters off as she realises I am staring at her gapingly. I blink a couple of times before finally speaking.

"You do realise we had intended on the most capable students taking nine IMPs, Molly?" I say shortly, astonishment clear in my tone. "We would anticipate the majority of students taking between four and seven. Percy is thinking of taking twelve?"

"Oh, and Percy is also interested in enrolling in the Healing TOAD as a parallel course, you realise," Molly Weasley assures me blithely, a strange smile on her face as she looks across at her son. "Of course, he already has his Herbology O.W.L, so there should be no issues there. Of all my boys, he is determined to be Perfect Percy." She looks up at me again, before continuing softly, in a wistful tone of voice. "We are both so very proud of him, of course. I sometimes wish he would realise it, though."

With that, Molly wanders back off into the milling crowd, accepting the praise around her with a pleased smile and a growing blush. I sit back in my chair, a slightly perplexed smile upon my face. Twelve. Percy Weasley intends to take twelve IMP's along with a TOAD. He may well set a record in the very first year of these new qualifications. But Molly's comments make me resolve to watch my current oldest Weasley carefully. That wistful tone and forsaken smile. Percy Weasley may be a formidable student, and he can certainly come across as imperious, pompous and, in all honesty, fairly callous. Maybe there is more there than meets the eye, a layer beneath the surface; a fragility hidden there that I haven't quite seen. If this last year proved anything to me, it's that it certainly won't be the first time.

But as I sit and watch young Harry begin to open his mountain of presents, I can't help but smile and it is not just due to the sight in front of me. Such an ordinary sight. A twelve-year-old boy surrounded by presents and torn wrapping paper, friends and family and jokes and laughter. Such a sight nonetheless. That isn't the main reason for my smile however. No. The true reason is ever more fundamental. It is because however difficult the last year has been for us all, and I doubt there is anyone who would deny that, I can see the beginnings of a new future. The start of a new year always fills me with a mixture of excitement, anticipation and trepidation, but even if everything that could go wrong does, this year can only head upwards in my estimation.

A new yet of first years. A new curriculum to balance along with the existing examinations that need to be taken. All the stresses and chaotic nightmares that young wizarding children somehow manage to create when enclosed in an admittedly large castle for a year. A new year. A new beginning. And sitting here, watching the excitement and the enthusiasm around me, I catch Remus' eye and laugh quietly to myself. There will be challenges ahead, that goes without saying. But they are challenges we will be ready to meet head on.

A new year. Let us make sure it is a good one. After all, it cannot be worse than the year just behind us.