Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else in this fic, except for possibly the plot.

A/N: Sorry for the wait on this chapter! I know it took forever for me to get it out, but it's here now! Also, a warning, this chapter has a couple of swear words, mainly just the 'S' word. If you don't like that, then don't read.

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Chapter 3: The Welcoming Feast.

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Harry smoothed his robes nervously, wishing he could see if they looked alright and weren't put on, say, backwards. He had done that a couple of times in the beginning... It was embarrassing to say the very least.

"They are fine, dear. You look very smart." Harry jumped at the unexpected voice, but then remembered that the mirrors in the Wizarding World could be enchanted to help with fashion dilemmas. He reminded himself to thank the Headmaster when he saw him next.

"Thanks," he murmured awkwardly, not at all sure if he was suppose to talk to it.

"No problem," came the reply.

Whistling for Shria, Harry felt along the wall until he had safely exited the bathroom, by which time Shria had arrived from whatever mischief she had previously been up to.

The two days leading up to the return of the students had passed quickly, he and Shria reaquainting themselves with Hogwarts and the Wizarding World. The last few days had reminded him just how much he loved and relied upon Shria. He was sure he would have fallen into gaps left behind from the moving staircases, not to mention become hopelessly lost, if he didn't have her.

He had been shown where his classroom was, as well as his office, which were the same rooms as they had been in his school years. He had relearnt his way around them, and was fairly certain he could move about them by himself, so long as no one moved anything.

After he had made sure he had all he would need for his classes and went over what he had planned for them, he had headed to the Great Hall for lunch when Peeves had thought it funny to pick on the boy-who-is-blind. But then had rethought his choice of victim when Shria had taken offence on behalf of Harry and had deemed it necessary to chase Peeves around the castle, shrieking angrily and hassling him on the way. Harry was only lucky that he had been close to the Great Hall and could find his way there without the help of Shria. When he had stumbled in, stepping carefully and hesitantly, McGonagall, (who had insisted he call her Minerva), had asked him about the absence of Shria. He had related the story dryly, to which the other Professors had chuckled. Minerva had then been kind enough to lead him to the single long table, seating him in the only available seat next to Malfoy, who's aura was still flashing in amusement. Half an hour later, Shria had flown in, radiating an air of smugness and mild exhaustion, quite pleased with her efforts, and proceeded to shriek and chatter at all the Professors, animatedly telling them all that she had accomplished, and overlooking the fact that they could not understand anything she was saying, much to the amusement of all persons gathered.

Sooner than he had thought possible, the night of the Welcoming Feast had arrived, twisting Harry's stomach in uncomfortable knots with the knowledge that he would soon be introduced to the student body as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, their Saviour, and their new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Harry was struggling to recall a time when he had less wanted to be so famous.

Taking a deep breath, Harry walked smoothly toward the entrance to his rooms, following Shria's small tugs of his hair. He stepped out into the hall, instantly seeing the silver aura of Malfoy waiting beside the portrait. Considering that this would be Harry's first Welcoming Feast as a teacher, Dumbledore had instructed the Draco to escort him to the Great Hall. Secretly, Harry was glad that Malfoy would be there to lead him to the raised dias that he would be sitting on for the rest of the year. He didn't feel very much like embarrassing himself tonight.

"Malfoy." Harry greeted calmly, trying to pretend that he didn't feel the need to run into the nearest bathroom and bring up his small lunch.

"Potter." Draco acknowledged, then asked curiously, "So, how's your stomach? Trying to turn itself inside out yet?"

Harry gave a startled laugh, then grinned ruefully. "Is it really that obvious?"

Harry could see Malfoy's aura sparkle in amusement as he answered, "No, I just remember feeling that way when I first started."

Harry grinned.

"So it isn't just me, then? That's a relief. Though, I'm having a hard time imagining the great Draco Malfoy feeling nervous," Harry teased lightly.

"Of course you are. Malfoy's do not show nervousness." Harry could tell that Draco had stuck his nose in the air pompously, and had to chuckle at the image.

Still grinning, Harry reached out his hand, surprised when Malfoy moved his arm to meet his grasp. Arching an eyebrow but otherwise refraining from commenting, Harry murmured 'follow' to Shria, then they both smoothly started down the corridor, Harry a half step behind Draco. The walk down the flights of stairs was silent, but not uncomfortably so, and Harry found himself considering how weird his life had gotten and was forced to admit that he had yet to find out if that was a good weird or not, though at the moment he was leaning toward good. Knowing his luck, though, it probably wouldn't stay that way. The past few days had been fun, and while memories did pop up as he was exploring the castle, those memories had all been good. He remembered many times from when he was young, most that he had forgotten when trying to ignore his past. But now, with the school year starting and students to meet and teach, Harry was unsure how long the worst memories were going to stay away, or how well he would cope when they did resurface.

The walk to the Great Hall passed quickly, and before Harry knew it, they were walking between the long tables. Harry knew they would be covered in gleaming gold plates and cutlery, reflecting the light of the flickering candles and the mirrored sky, just waiting for hundreds of children to rush through those doors and fill the cavernous room with their laughter and joy. It made him wonder at how many adolescents had sat at the wooden benches, eating and talking, learning and living, through the many years Hogwarts had been in business. It was a daunting thought, but a strangely comforting one; the knowledge that students would continue to pass through these halls, long after he and his descendants had left this world, and that Hogwarts would prevail throughout the next few centuries. It filled him with warmth, knowing that this is what he had fought for, what the Wizarding World had fought for. What they had won. He had forgotten that, over the past few years. Harry promised himself that he would never again forget.

Harry was brought from his musings when Shria chattered her hellos at the gathered Professors, and Harry realised that he had reached the dias, and was currently being led to a seat next to Minerva's empty one. Smiling and responding to the greetings, Harry fumbled behind him for the edge of the chair, safely seating himself eventually.

Malfoy seated himself beside Harry, his aura slowly swirling in calm anticipation, while Dumbledore's was sparkling erratically. Harry resolved to keep a closer eye on the eccentric headmaster in the future. One must wonder what devious mischief he would get into, if ever he were left unsupervised. In that respect, he was very much like the children they looked after, causing numerous headaches for many of the staff, much to the students constant delight.

The Professors did not have long to wait before the huge wooden doors swung open, and a great roar of sound entered the cavernous room. Chattering, laughing teenagers poured in, appearing to Harry as a brilliant rainbow of sparkling colours.

Harry sat back, taking in the colours, noting how every aura was slightly different, in either colour, shade, rhythm or the sparkles dancing in the midst of it all.

Slowly but surely, the children seated themselves at their tables, the noise never receding. If he concentrated, Harry could make out a few whispered questions about him, mainly asking who he was, if he would be a good DADA teacher, and if he would manage to break the one year curse on the position. He snorted as he happened to overhear a group of boys betting on how long it would take for him to crack under the pressure and leave, as the last Professor had.

Several minutes passed before the doors swung open again and Minerva entered, leading a nervous string of students into the Hall. Gradually, the chatter died down as the older students stared and whispered about the newcomers, while the First Years looked around and gasped softly at the splendour of the room.

Harry could still remember when he was the one to be entering those doors for the first time, following the strict McGonagall, taking in the enchanted ceiling, the staring, curious, faces and the golden cutlery on the four long tables, all the while wondering at what test he was to be put through, and fearing that he would be declared a mistake and sent back to the Dursley's. He felt a pang of bittersweet sadness. So naive. How trivial his fears were in comparison with what he had yet to face. Yet, he had also felt hope and happiness within these walls, something that had always been lacking at the Dursley's.

The sudden silence in the hall was startling enough to bring him out of his thoughts, just in time to hear, "Audrey, Tanya," from Minerva.

There was a shuffling among the students before a pale pink aura stepped forward, writhing and twisting in extreme nervousness and anticipation.

The Sorting Hat appeared as a dull white cloud that shone with magical energy, but did not have any discernable features Harry had become used to seeing in magical people.

It was placed on the girls head, and barely a moment later, it yelled, "RAVENCLAW!"

The thunderous applause form that table was almost deafening, while the teachers and other Houses clapped politely.

The girl scurried off and the next child was called forward.

Harry zoned out slightly for the rest of the First Years, clapping politely with the others, but not really taking in what was happening.

That is, until a small boy stepped forward, his aura drawing Harry's attention like an insect to a flame. The magical cloud was unusual in a number of ways, the first being the actual colour, or rather the mix of colours. Emerald and silver were swirled together, touching and connecting, but never actually mixing. It was rare for Harry to see an aura made of two or more colours and he wasn't sure as to why they were rare either. The second thing that captured his attention was the utter stillness of it. Not one thing moved in the aura, save for the sketchy throb of the boy's nature.

It was almost as if he was deathly afraid.

Harry leaned forward, his eyes intent as he watched the boy sit on the stool and the Hat rest on his head. Unlike most of the other students, the Hat took several long minutes to come to a decision, making the boys aura throb even less than what it did previously. Harry was scared that he was going to have a heart attack or something.

Finally, after the shifting and rising muttering of the upper years had almost reached a crescendo, the boy stiffened, drawing attention back to him and causing silence to fall once again.

After pausing for another incredibly long moment, the Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

The clapping was notably softer than for the other First Years, interspersed with confused and speculative muttering.

The boy hopped down and strode toward the Slytherin table, and Harry thought that the boy might faint from the relief the aura was suddenly jumping with. Harry smiled slightly and lent back, glad that the boy was obviously happy with where he had been put. Or perhaps he was just relieved that he had been sorted at all.

Minerva cleared her throat and waited for the noise to drop again before calling the next student up, and Harry let his attention wander again, this time considering the boy with the unusual aura.

Finally the sorting finished, and Minerva spelled away the stool and Hat, before joining the other Professors on the dias.

Albus stood and Harry watched as the annoyingly bright sparkles in his aura flashed and danced in a way that was almost hypnotic, if you could get past the blinding brightness of them.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! For those that are returning, I hope you had good summers, and for those that have only just joined us, then I hope you enjoy your time here. Before we dig into the excellent feast the House Elves have prepared for us, I have a few start of year notices. The Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all, as some of our older students would do well to remember," there were chuckles throughout the Hall, "and our Mr Filch would like to remind you that all of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes products are strictly off limits, and for a more comprehensive list of forbidden items, please visit Mr Filch's office." There were quite a few groans at that. "Also, I would like to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor." Harry sucked in a nervous breath, knowing that this wasn't going to be pretty. " Please welcome Professor Harry Potter to our school."

Harry waved from his position, not game enough to stand and potentially have to fumble around for his seat again, and felt himself redden as the silence stretched.

Finally, after what felt like hours, but was probably only a few seconds, the silence was broken when someone exclaimed, "Holy Shit!"

Like a dam, the words broke the silence and started a roar of sound. Harry heard quite a few comments along the lines of, "Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?!", "I thought he was dead!", "Can you see his scar?!" and "I heard that he's blind."

Even Professor Dumbledore couldn't quiet them, so after several futile attempts, he gave up and instead summoned the food.

Harry tried to ignore the stares he could feel directed at him, and instead started on his dinner. That is, until a badly muffled snicker had his head whipping around to glare at a thoroughly amused Draco Malfoy.

"What?" The blonde asked innocently.

Harry growled wordlessly and turned back to the feast, ignoring the chuckles that escaped Malfoy every so often and the amused flickering of the other teachers auras.

The students eventually realised that the food had arrived and started to eat, though the noise hardly receded any.

After everyone had eaten and quieted down somewhat, Albus again stood.

"Seeing as I was unable to finish before, I shall have to do so now. Professor Potter is the Harry Potter, as you put it, and therefore most of you should know his story. Unfortunately, he is blind, and I expect that should he require any assistance, you will gladly give it. The rest is for him to say or not. Now, tomorrow you will get your timetables, and I assume you will be well rested for your classes, so you are released to find your beds. First Years please follow your House Prefects. Goodnight."

The children stood and moved toward the doors, filing out with all intentions of returning to their Common Rooms and staying up to all hours of the night gossipping about the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

After the students had all left, Dumbledore commented mildly, "I think that went rather well. Don't you?"

Over the Professors laughter, Harry's head could be heard dropping onto the table with a loud 'thunk'.

Standing up, Harry said mock stiffly, "Well, then. If you are all going to make fun of me, then I have better places to be. Namely, my bed."

Harry waved languidly to them and strode out of the hall, following the soft tugs on his hair.

He was half way to his rooms when a shouted, "Potter!" had him pausing and half turning, only to find a jogging Malfoy panting behind him.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously.

"I just wanted to say, that I am so terribly sorry for finding your plight amusing."

If it weren't for the outrageous swirling of Malfoy's aura, Harry might have almost believed him.

As it was, he stuck his nose in the air, sniffed haughtily, and turned on his heel, only to have the blonde fall into step beside him.

Harry could hear the grin on Malfoy's face as he said, "Well, you have to admit it was funny. I mean, come on, the best that they could come up with was 'Holy Shit'!"

So saying that, the Potions Professor fell into uncontrolled laughter and Harry found himself chuckling along too, though it was more at the thought that he had never heard Draco make such a sound before, and he found that he rather liked it.

They reached Harry's rooms just as Malfoy got himself fully under control once again, in time to say, "Goodnight, Potter."

He then turned back down the hall and walked unhurriedly along, only to be brought up short as Harry called, "Oi! Malfoy!"

The blonde turned, his aura pausing in curiosity.

"The name's Harry. Got that?"

Malfoy's aura flickered slightly in surprise, but he responded with, "And mine is Draco. Goodnight, Harry."

Draco's rich laughter followed him into his rooms, and when the morning came, Harry could have sworn that it had echoed through his dreams as well.

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A/N2: Ok, there's chapter three! I hope you enjoyed it. I don't know when the next chapter will be out, but hopefully it won't be too long.

Authors Request: Please review and tell me what you think, and any mistakes I've made.