Author's notes: Sorry for the long delay between chapters! On January 13, 2005, I had a baby girl -Elanor Mary. You can see a picture of her at my homepage (see my profile). My pregnancy was uneventful, but tiring, and motherhood has since kept me quite busy! I'll try to get Chapter 11 out in a more timely fashion!

Chapter 10 - Train of Thought

Harry shook his hair out of his eyes, waiting for the dizziness that always accompanied Portkey travel to recede. As his eyes cleared, he saw Snape's cloak billowing as he strode further down the platform, and he heard a familiar voice call, "Harry! Harry!" Seconds later, Hermione Granger was at his side, helping him to his feet.

"You came with Snape?" she said in a horrified whisper, glancing back to make sure she wasn't within the Potion Master's earshot.

"Yeah - Tonks couldn't make it at the last minute, he said," Harry replied, brushing the dust from the platform off his clothing. He peered down the platform and saw Snape conversing with Professor McGonagall. "You came with McGonagall, then?"

Hermione's face turned pink. "She came to my house half an hour early just so she could meet my parents."

Harry grinned. "I bet she wanted to tell them what a great student you are."

Hermione's blush deepened. "Well… yes," she admitted bashfully. "So it went all right with the Dursleys? When Snape came to fetch you, I mean?"

"I'll tell you later," Harry muttered as he noticed McGonagall striding toward them out of the corner of his eye.

"Potter, Granger, come along," she said briskly. "It's time you boarded the train. The Weasleys should be arriving shortly. I'll direct them to your compartment when they arrive."

"Already?" Harry asked, disappointed. He'd hoped to linger on the platform as other students arrived - he'd never gotten there early enough to do so.

"You're safer on the train," McGonagall said, glancing over her shoulder distrustfully as though she expected to see a Death Eater lurking in the shadows. "Go on, now, I'll see to your luggage."

Reluctantly, Harry boarded the bright scarlet train, Hermione following right behind, and went to their usual compartment. Distractedly, Hermione glanced down the empty corridor. "I wonder if I should go wait in the prefect's compartment…" she murmured.

"You don't have to go until the train leaves," Harry objected. "At least wait until Neville or someone comes; if you go then Ron and Ginny will too." Earlier in the summer, Ginny had gotten a prefect's badge along with her Hogwarts letter, sending Mrs. Weasley into spasms of delight. "I don't want to sit here by myself."

"Oh, all right," Hermione relented. Harry knelt on the red plush seat and pushed the window open, leaning out to crane his head up and down the platform. "Harry, I don't think you should…"

"I'm just looking," Harry said, ignoring her protest. He grinned as he saw four redheads and assorted luggage appear on the platform with a loud THUMP.

"Argh! Ginny, geroff!" Ron complained loudly, untangling himself from his little sister.

"I'm trying! Your feet are too big!" she snapped, getting to her feet and brushing dust from her school robes.

"Now, you two, settle down," Mrs. Weasley admonished. Harry noticed she was wearing a very nice traveling cloak, much nicer than any he'd seen her wear. Mr. Weasley's robes were rather smart, too. He grinned; it was about time Mr. Weasley got a decent salary from the Ministry.

"Ron! Ginny!" he yelled, managing to wedge one arm out of the window. He waved wildly as he shouted. "Over here!"

Ron spotted him and his eyes brightened. "Oy, Harry!" he shouted in reply. "We'll come aboard in a second!"

Harry watched as both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley kissed their children and wished them a pleasant term. Ginny waved merrily at Harry as she and Ron boarded the train, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hurried down the platform to where Harry's head was sticking out of the train window.

"All right, Harry?" Mr. Weasley said cheerfully. "Ready for another term?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry grinned.

"Has Hermione already arrived?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Yeah, she's here too."

Mrs. Weasley sniffed. "Sixth year for you and Ron already… it seems like just yesterday we were showing you how to get onto the platform! And now we've only brought two, when last year it was four…" She pulled a large, flowered handkerchief out of the pocket of her robes and dabbed at her eyes.

"Now, Molly…" Mr. Weasley patted her back reassuringly. He smiled at Harry. "You let us know if you need anything, all right? We'll see you at Christmas."

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley." Harry supposed he'd actually get to spend Christmas at the Burrow this year, and he was looking forward to it; he'd never spent Christmas at a Wizarding home before (not counting Grimmauld Place, which wasn't really a home - more like a dungeon).

"Be careful, and remember to go straight to Dumbledore if anything… strange… happens," Mrs. Weasley cautioned. "Mind your teachers, and study hard - NEWTs are just around the corner, you know…"

"Molly, that's enough," Mr. Weasley said in a gentle but exasperated tone. "We should be going."

"All right… have a good term, Harry…" Mrs. Weasley was still sniffing suspiciously into her handkerchief as Mr. Weasley led her away.

"She's mental," Ron muttered audibly as Harry pulled himself back inside the compartment.

Ginny giggled. "Poor Mum… she can't even talk about Percy and Penelope anymore without crying. 'My baby's getting married... it seems like just yesterday he was born…'" she said in a spot-on imitation of Mrs. Weasley.

Harry and Ron sniggered; Hermione, however, wore a sympathetic smile. "My mum was crying last night when she was helping me pack my trunk… she said it seemed like I'd just come home and now I'd be going again." She sighed, her smile fading. "The time has gone fast, hasn't it? Only two more years left at Hogwarts…"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably; he didn't like thinking about the fact that their school days might eventually end, that their day-to-day friendship might be broken up as they went their separate ways. Hogwarts was the only home he'd ever known... and now he had more years behind him than he did ahead.

"Well, I plan to make the most of the time we have left," Ron said brightly. A mischievous grin, not unlike Fred and George's usual expressions, spread across his freckled face. "For one thing, I can finally give back to Draco Malfoy some of what he's dished out to us."

"Ron, I don't know if that's a good idea," Hermione said nervously. "House unity, remember?"

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" Ron protested. "For the first time in my life, I can finally one-up him. My dad's head of MLE and his dad's in prison! Besides, he's a slimy git who's treated us like dirt for five years; he deserves to get the same treatment back! Right, Harry?"

Harry didn't answer right away. Dumbledore's admonition of "Draco has not yet made that choice" was echoing in his head.

On the one hand, Ron was right; the tables had finally turned and Draco's family was disgraced, whereas the Weasleys had finally come into their own. On the other hand… Harry remembered how he'd felt when he'd seen his father act like a royal git in Snape's Penseive memory. It hadn't been right, even if Snape was a slimy, greasy Slytherin with connections to Dark magic. His father had acted like nothing more than a bully - in fact, his father had acted like Dudley. And it would be easy for him, Harry, to act the same way towards Draco. Too easy.

"I think Hermione's right, Ron," Harry said slowly. "We'd be sinking to his level. We're better than that, don't you think?"

"Well… I…" Ron fumbled, his face flushed. "I'm not taking any of his insults this year," he said finally. "He's not going to abuse my family and get away with it."

"Defending yourself is one thing," Harry said, avoiding his friend's disbelieving gaze. "Deliberately going after him is another. I'm not saying you have to be a wimp; I'm just saying that we don't need to act like he does and start anything, okay?"

"Remember, Ron, you're a prefect," Hermione added.

"But also remember that you have access to the finest practical joke products on the market," Ginny spoke up, her brown eyes glinting. "I'm sure Fred and George won't mind donating some of their new products to a very good cause - paying Malfoy back for any family insults, for example."

"Very true, Ginny," Ron agreed, the devilish light back in his eyes. "I wonder if I could slip a Canary Cream to him somehow…"

"Ginny, you're a prefect too!" Hermione said, shocked.

Ginny brushed the objections aside with a wave of her hand. "Being a prefect doesn't mean I stop being Ginny Weasley, Hermione. Ron's right - there's no reason we have to sit passively while Malfoy throws insults at us. Besides, it's not like we can follow proper channels. As prefects, we can only dock points from Gryffindors, and as long as Snape is head of Slytherin, there's no use complaining to Malfoy's Head of House - you know Snape lets him get away with everything."

"Snape would probably dock us points for reporting his pet Malfoy," Ron said darkly.

"So we need to use - er - other methods for retaliation," Ginny finished.

"Sounds fair," Harry said cautiously, letting himself imagine 'Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing canary' for a moment. "But remember what I said about sinking to his level - try to keep the 'your dad's in prison' insults to a minimum."

Ron grunted unhappily but nodded. "All right. I'll try. He'd just better watch his mouth this year, that's all."

"At least we don't have to worry about N.E.W.T.s at the end of this year," Hermione said brightly. "I mean, we'll still have to study for them, of course, but it's a relief to know that the exams are still over a year away."

"Speak for yourself," Ginny muttered. "After watching you three go through O.W.L. preparation last year, I'm scared to death."

"Don't worry, Ginny, we'll help," Hermione said kindly. "I kept all my notes. And the exams really aren't that bad, they don't cover anything we haven't learned…"

"The Potions O.W.L. was actually a lot easier than the preps we did in Snape's class," Harry told her. "It's a lot easier to concentrate when he's not hovering over you."

Ginny shrugged. "I've never had a problem in Potions. Snape leaves me alone for the most part."

"Lucky you," Ron said darkly. "Though I have a feeling that that's another bit of payback Malfoy's going to get this year - it sounds like the new Defense teacher doesn't like Slytherins much at all."

"I'm sure she'll conduct herself professionally," Hermione said primly. "Dumbledore wouldn't have hired her if he didn't think she could."

"I'm not too sure about that, considering how hard it's been to find a decent DADA professor," Harry said. "Frankly, I don't care how she treats the Slytherins as long as we actually learn some useful defensive skills this year." Absently, he fingered his wand, which was concealed in his robe pocket. "I'm glad we'll still have the D.A. so we can get more practice outside of class."

"If she's as good as Bill says she is, we'll learn loads," Ginny said confidently. "Between a decent DADA teacher and the D.A., I know I don't have to worry about my Defense O.W.L." She gulped, her face paling. "Just the rest of them…"

A loud CRASH in the corridor outside their compartment interrupted their conversation. "Whoops! Careful! Up you go, Longbottom!" floated the cheery voice of Professor Sprout.

Harry jumped up and opened the compartment door in time to see Neville, red-faced, clutching his toad and brushing dust off his robes. "Hi, Harry!" his fellow Gryffindor said, his round face brightening.

"Hi, Neville… you all right?" Harry asked, suppressing a grin.

"I'm fine. Trevor tried to run off again… and I tripped over my robes trying to catch him." Neville scowled at his toad. "I wish he'd stay put for just one train ride."

"Why don't you get a cage for him?" Hermione, who'd come to the door of the compartment, asked.

"I've tried, but he always manages to escape from them anyway, no matter how many spells Gran uses. The man at the Magical Menagerie said some wizarding toads can do that, and Trevor's one of them." Neville rolled his eyes. "Lucky me."

"Well, c'mon in," Harry said, pulling Neville inside the compartment. "We were just talking about the new Defense teacher."

"Professor Jones?" Neville settled himself next to Ginny. "Gran says she was a Head Girl at Hogwarts."

"She was Head Girl at the same time Bill was Head Boy," Ron told him. "Does your gran know her?"

"She's been friends with the Joneses for years," Neville said importantly. "My grandfather used to work with Hestia Jones' father at the Ministry. She says that Professor Jones is going to be a big improvement over the past DADA teachers - except for Professor Lupin, of course," he added hastily, catching Harry's furious glance.

"Well, it wouldn't take much to be better than Lockhart or Umbridge," Ron snorted. "Though Quirrell wasn't half-bad once you got past his stuttering."

"And the fact that he had Voldemort attached to his head," Harry said dryly.

"There is that," Ron agreed, and they laughed.

Hermione suddenly jumped out of her seat, scrambling for her wand. "Oh, dear, it's five to eleven!" she fretted. "We have to get to the prefect compartment!"

"Calm down, Hermione," Ginny said evenly. "They won't start without us."

"I'll walk down there with you," Harry said, getting to his feet. "Coming, Neville?"

"No, you go ahead," Neville said, taking a book out of his bag. The book, Harry noticed, was Magical Plants and Their Defensive Uses. "I think I'll just stay here and read a while."

Harry walked with his friends to the other end of the train, saying hello to some familiar faces on the way - Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Colin Creevey. On his way back to his compartment, Harry stopped at the loo. He'd just exited the tiny bathroom and pulled the door shut when he heard, "Hello… Potter."

Harry instantly recognized the sneering drawl. "Hello, Malfoy," he said flatly, turning around. Draco seemed taller than usual - perhaps he'd also grown over the summer, or perhaps he just looked taller without Goyle and Crabbe hulking around him. His pale grey eyes glittered like ice, and his white-blond hair was, as always, sleekly arrayed and slicked back.

Not wishing to start his school year off with a confrontation on the train, Harry tried to move down the corridor. Draco, however, wouldn't budge. "Excuse me," Harry said neutrally, struggling to quell the rising ire within him.

"Not so fast, Potter," Draco said, his voice low and menacing. "We have some unfinished business to take care of."

"And what would that be?" Harry retorted, his fingers itching to grab his wand and fire off a good Jellylegs hex. However, he kept his fists clenched at his side.

Draco's eyes flashed. "You put my father in Azkaban, Potter."

"Your father put himself in Azkaban," Harry said, attempting to push past Draco. Malfoy shoved him back. "Hey!"

"We're not finished," Malfoy snarled, his face inches from Harry's.

"You'd better watch it, Malfoy," Harry warned. "You don't have your bodyguards around anymore."

"I don't need them." Draco seized Harry's shirt in his hands and shoved him against the wall with surprising strength. Harry responded automatically, kneeing Draco in the stomach as hard as he could and whipping out his wand as Draco let go of his shirt and stumbled back against the corridor wall.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy," Harry said through clenched teeth. "Touch me again and I'll - "

"What's going on here?"

Harry froze at the sound of Snape's cold drawl. The situation looked bad - him with his wand out, Draco doubled up in pain and hunched against the wall.

"Malfoy attacked me, sir," he said, knowing Snape wouldn't believe a word of it. "I was just defending myself."

"Oh, really?" Snape arched a thin eyebrow. "Yes, Potter, I can see you're quite the victim here."

"He's telling the truth, Snape." Harry nearly jumped in surprise as the door the girls' loo opened and a tall witch, one he'd never seen before, stepped out. She had cinnamon-colored skin with hair and eyes as dark as onyx. "I heard everything."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "And why, Professor Jones, did you not intervene during Mr. Malfoy's alleged attack?" he said frostily, a slight sneer creeping into his voice.

Professor Jones gave the Potions Master such a blistering glare that Harry expected flames to come shooting out of her eyeballs. "Well, Professor Snape, I was somewhat indisposed, being in the loo and all." She turned her glare to Malfoy, who cringed. "Next time, Mr. Malfoy, you might want to make certain both loos are empty before picking a fight."

"He started it," Draco muttered sullenly.

"He did not start it," Professor Jones said sharply. "Pretend you're not a Slytherin for five minutes and tell the truth."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing; he'd never heard such a pointed insult from a professor towards a Hogwarts House. Even Snape's insults against Gryffindor were much more veiled. Not to mention that the way Professor Jones was looking at Draco was just… creepy. It reminded him of something, but he couldn't think of what.

Snape's jaw was clenched; Harry could almost hear his teeth grinding. "Get back to your compartments, both of you," he fairly growled. "And if I hear of any more disturbances, you'll both be in detention the minute we arrive at Hogwarts."

"But I - " Draco began.

"Professor, he - " Harry tried to protest.

"Now!" Snape barked.

Harry dared not argue anymore; he scurried through the door and hurried back to his compartment. Neville looked up from his book as Harry slid the door shut. "There you are; I was wondering what was taking you so long."

"I stopped at the loo," Harry said, not wanting to tell the whole story about his encounter with Malfoy until Ron, Hermione, and Ginny returned.

"Oh," Neville said cheerfully. He closed his book and took a bag of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans out of his pocket. "Want one?" he asked, proffering the bag.

Harry popped a white bean into his mouth - which, thankfully, turned out to be marshmallow and not candle wax - and chewed thoughtfully as he listened to Neville's chatter about the plants he'd been reading about in Magical Plants and Their Defensive Uses.

It wasn't until Neville said something about a plant called Centaur's Bane (a flower that gave centaurs a nasty rash akin to poison ivy) that Harry suddenly realized where he'd seen the look on Professor Jones' face before. The glare she'd given Draco remarkably similar to an expression he'd seen on Umbridge's face - when Dumbledore had introduced Firenze as the new Divination teacher. It was a look of pure loathing, bordering on hatred.

Harry resolved to talk to Dumbledore about it once they arrived at Hogwarts. Maybe Dumbledore thought that Professor Jones could reign in her attitude about Slytherins, but Harry wasn't so sure.

end of Chapter 10