Crush
Minisinoo

1. Return

Harry was growing really quite irritated.

But not, for once, on his own behalf.  He was irritated with the way the rest of the school was treating Cedric.  Having been the subject of gossip, stares and hostility himself, he recognised it even when not directed at him.

It began on the Hogwarts Express.  Cedric had come with his parents, not with Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys, and was already on board by the time Harry and his friends arrived.  They found him sitting alone in a compartment at the rear of the train.  Harry was astonished.  Cedric was popular:  handsome, athletic, clever, friendly . . . the Hogwarts Champion actually selected by the Goblet, not Confunded into it.  If Harry knew Cedric had been in trouble at the close of last year -- suspected by Fudge of collusion with Death Eaters, or at least of negligence -- once those charges had been dropped, he'd assumed Cedric would return to his place as a student celebrity.

Apparently not.

With mouth agape, Harry jerked open the door to Cedric's compartment, but Cedric just smiled and gestured to the other side.  "Want a seat?" he asked, as if finding Cedric Diggory sitting entirely by himself was nothing unusual.

Confused, Harry nodded and piled in with Hermione and Neville.  "Where's Ron?" Cedric asked.

"Prefect," Harry said, struggling not to sound bitter.  "He had to go to the front carriage."

"Ah yes, there are introductions and rules to go over," Cedric said, reminding Harry that Cedric had been a prefect himself until this year.  Frowning, Cedric glanced now at Hermione.  "You're not a prefect?"  He seemed genuinely surprised.

Hermione had taken the seat beside Cedric and now glanced out the window, cheeks pink.  "No."  Her lips pursed.  "Lavender Brown was made prefect."

Harry doubted Cedric knew anything about Lavender's reputation for being a bit cloudy-headed, but it was clear the older boy found it surprising that Hermione hadn't been named.  Harry also noted how Neville stared at Cedric with round eyes.  Hermione had noticed too.  "Neville," she said, ignoring his shyness, "this is Cedric Diggory.  Cedric, this is Neville Longbottom."

"Frank and Alice Longbottom's son, yes," Cedric replied, leaning forward to offer Neville his hand.  "Pleased to meet you."  Neville seemed star-struck but took the offered hand.  "My dad knew your dad, always said he was a brilliant Auror."

That won a shocked glance from Hermione, while Harry tried to pretend he hadn't already known.  Neville just blushed harder, mumbling, "Thanks."

That was when the cabin door opened again to admit a very strange-looking blonde girl wearing . . . radish earrings?  And what on earth hung around her neck?  They looked like bottle corks.  She'd apparently spotted Neville through the glass and now smiled at him.  "Hello, Neville.  How was your summer?  May I sit here?  Nobody else will let me sit in their compartment -- " She stopped, noticing Cedric, and Harry thought she might flee right back out the door the same as Neville had appeared set to do earlier.

Instead, a big smile lit her face.  "Cedric!" she cried even as he said, "Luna!" and she bent to embrace him quickly, but with real affection -- all of which drew the most curious stare from Hermione . . . and a gape from Neville.

Luna plopped down on Cedric's other side, handing him her magazine.  "The latest issue," she said, as if he'd know exactly what she was talking about, "if you haven't seen it."  Harry caught him shooting Hermione a grin, but he accepted the magazine and obediently glanced through it.  "Cedric and I grew up near each other," Luna explained.  "He taught me to climb trees.  We were looking for Blibbering Humdingers."

"What's a Blibbering Humdinger?" Harry asked, confused, even as he saw Neville blush and Hermione roll her eyes.

Cedric just chuckled.  "Never caught one."

"Maybe because they don't exist?" Hermione muttered between clenched teeth.  Harry almost missed it as Luna was speaking again, pointing out something in the magazine to Cedric, who listened politely.  Harry knew him well enough to know he was humouring her, but not in a cruel way.  The ease between them spoke of longtime familiarity; he was humouring her in the same way Harry and Ron humoured Hermione when she panicked about tests -- from fondness.  It reminded him that he really didn't know Cedric as well as he sometimes thought he did.

All in all, it was perhaps the most peculiar trip on the Hogwarts Express that Harry had ever made.  Later, as they walked amidst the other students up to the carriages waiting to take them to the castle, Harry asked Ron, "Who's Luna?"

"She's in Ginny's year," Ron said.  "A bit dotty, like you saw.  Her mum died when she was little, and her dad prints that magazine."  There had been a discussion of The Quibbler earlier in the train compartment, with poor Cedric stuck, literally, between Hermione and Luna.  "They're both a bit barmy if you know what I mean."  He tapped his temple.

"Yeah, sort of got that," Harry replied.

"It's odd, isn't it?" Neville asked, coming up behind them, "How a bloke like Diggory is friendly with Luna?"

Ron glanced over.  "Diggory and Loony?  Yeah, it is a bit odd, but their families don't live far from mine, so I reckon they knew each other as kids."

Neville frowned.  "Don't call her Loony, Ron.  It's not nice."  They'd reached the carriage that Hermione was holding for them even as Harry noticed a ruckus ten or so carriages further on.  A group of Slytherin boys jeered at someone Harry couldn't see.  The group wasn't led by Draco, but by Adrian Pucey with other sixth and seventh years.  Harry recognized Pucey's fine, wavy hair from the back.  At least one Ravenclaw was leaning out the window of a nearby carriage to join in.

"Can't find a carriage?  Nobody want to sit with you?"

"Hey, notice the badge?" Pucey called.  "Did you see my new badge?  It reads Head Boy.  They chose me, not you."

At that very moment, the victim of the taunting burst through the ring of jeering students.

It was Cedric.

Alone again.  Where was his ring of admirers from the year before?

Without thinking twice, Harry raised his hand to motion for Cedric to join them once more -- assuming he'd want to -- but somebody else must have called to him first because a carriage door opened and he climbed in.

"Come on," Hermione was saying, pulling at Harry's arm to get him to join them in the carriage.

"What was that all about?" Harry demanded once they were inside.

"Dunno," Ron replied and Neville shrugged, but Hermione had pursed her lips.

"I expect," she said, "it has to do with Fudge's attacks on him -- before, you know, Scrimgeour took over and the charges were dropped.  This new Headmistress -- she's the last appointment Fudge made before leaving office, and I suppose Scrimgeour decided to leave her here, at least for now.  But you notice that it's Professor McGonagall he consults when he has questions, so it's just a matter of time until she's made Headmistress."  She gave a little nod of her head in approval.  "In any case, being as this Umbridge person is one of Fudge's lackeys, you didn't really expect she'd have made Cedric Head Boy?"

"Well, no," Harry replied, "I . . . I suppose not."  Although to be honest, he had assumed Cedric would be named Head Boy, even if Cedric himself had said several times over the summer that he wouldn't.  "But," Harry went on, getting to the heart of it as far as he was concerned, "where are his friends?  Last year, he had a bloody cloud of them around him all the time, and all wearing those damn badges even if he didn't."

Ron seemed uncomfortable, Neville still confused, but Hermione turned to look at Harry with that fond 'How can you be so dense?' expression.  "Harry," she said patiently, "at the end of last year, Cedric didn't have any friends.  Or didn't you notice?"

For once, Ron appeared up on the social gossip.  "She's right," he said.  "I thought he was guilty too, till you said he wasn't.  But most of the school still blamed him for Dumbledore dying.  I'd assumed that'd be different now too, but . . . yeah, doesn't look like it is, does it?"

"That's ridiculous!" Harry exploded.

"Yeah, well . . . " Ron shrugged.  They talked then of other things until reaching the castle.

Yet as they took their places for the meal in the Great Hall, Cedric's unwelcome status became even more plain.  Not only did other houses consider it open season on the former Hogwarts Champion, his own house shunned him as well -- and for Hufflepuff, that was extremely odd.  Amongst the few willing to talk to him was Susan Bones, and Harry pulled her aside whilst students milled, greeting each other, and Ron was busy being harassed by his brothers.  "What's going on with Cedric?" he demanded.

Susan blinked at him as if curious as to why he'd care, and he recalled that his friendship with Cedric had been built over that summer -- it wasn't common knowledge at Hogwarts.  "Well," she began, "he was involved in the events that led up to Dumbledore's murder -- "

"That wasn't his fault!" Harry said, earning notice from Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott even as Hermione put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Come on, Harry," she said.

"No!" Harry said.  "I want this to stop!  Cedric wasn't at fault!  I testified he wasn't and Moody testified the same!  And Viktor Krum too!"

"I know," Susan said softly, which earned a sharp glance from Ernie.  "My aunt's in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  I know he was cleared of all charges, but well -- "

"He could have trusted some of us in the house," Ernie cut in, frowning, "then things might not have happened like they happened."

"He was told not to," Harry snapped back -- not mentioning it had been his older self who'd apparently done the telling.

"Yeah, well, maybe if he hadn't listened, Professor Dumbledore would still be alive."

"Ernie -- " Susan and Hannah both said, but Ernie ignored them to add, "A real Hufflepuff would've trusted his friends."

And Harry came oh-so-close to replying that if Cedric had ever had real friends, maybe he'd have trusted them, but saying as much would be oil on the fire, leading to uncomfortable questions for Cedric.  "Listen," Harry said instead, pushing past Susan to get right in Ernie's face, "Cedric and Viktor saved my life at the risk of their own and Cedric couldn't exactly see the future, could he?  He did the best he could -- investigation into the matter showed he wasn't at fault and he doesn't deserve to have his own house treat him like a leper.  It's a sad day when his competition in the Tournament thinks better of him than his supposed friends and housemates."

Turning on his heel, Harry stalked away, Hermione following.  Before they reached Ron, who was saving them places at the table, Hermione said, "That was a kind thing you did for Cedric."

Harry just glanced at her.  "What was I supposed to do?  Let them crucify him for nothing?"

"Of course not; I only said it was kind.  The two of you seem to have become rather . . . close."

Harry paused to look at her.  "Yeah, so?"

She glanced down at her feet, seeming a bit nervous, "Well, Harry, he is . . . you know."  She shot a glance in his direction then back to Harry's face.

"You don't think I -- ?" Harry began, but didn't finish that thought before she shook her head.

"No, Harry.  I meant you might want to be careful so he doesn't . . . well, it's not that you'd be leading him on, but he might get his hopes up even if he knows better."

With absolutely no idea how to reply to that, Harry resisted gaping.  She couldn't be right, could she?  But no, she couldn't be right because if Cedric . . . fancied him, well, he'd be acting like it, wouldn't he?  And he wasn't.  So he didn't.  "We're just friends, Hermione.  You don't fancy me just because we're friends either."

A soft, amused expression took over her face.  "Oh, Harry, you're such a boy."  And without bothering to explain that at all, she went to join their friends at the table.  Harry wanted to call after her that Cedric was a boy too, but an unexpected voice at his shoulder speaking in a soft Scottish burr gave him pause.

"Hullo, Harry.  I hope you had a good summer."

Turning quickly, heart in throat and hammering hard there, Harry gave Cho Chang a rather stupid grin.  "Hi, Cho!  Er, good summer, yeah, well -- as good as it could be, I reckon, what with . . . everything, you know?  How was yours?"

"It was all right."  Her eyes seemed a bit haunted for a moment, but it passed and she gave him another shy smile before heading off to her table and the three friends who were waiting and giggling together.  She shot him a last glance over her shoulder and he tried waving at her, hoping he didn't look like a complete git . . . although he rather feared that he did given the amused grins on the twins' faces when he joined his table.

"Young love!" Fred crowed, laughing.

"As long as he doesn't let it affect him on the Quidditch pitch," George added, leaning over to stress, "No gentlemanly losses when we play Ravenclaw."

"I wouldn't do any such thing," Harry said, annoyed and certain his face was red.  Seeking something to distract him, he glanced over at the Hufflepuff table in case Ernie or anybody else had taken his reprimand to heart and sat with Cedric.

To his surprise, Cedric was looking back at him, face serious and sad.  Yet as soon as he caught Harry looking his way, he dropped his eyes.  Susan and Hannah sat beside him, but otherwise, he clearly still suffered the cold shoulder treatment.  His own roommates were down the table away from him.  Harry couldn't blame him for being a bit blue.

Conversation in the hall was dying down as McGonagall entered with the Sorting Hat, first years trailing in her wake like chicks behind the hen.  Harry studied faces as the hat sang its Sorting song; he wasn't really paying attention until those around him began to mutter about warnings.  "Warnings?" he asked.  "Warnings about what?"

Hermione frowned.  "Weren't you listening?"

"Er, no.  Anybody else notice that we've got a smaller crop of first years this time?  I'd say at least ten less than any year before."

"Well, yeah," Seamus said, "some parents aren't keen to send their kids now, you know.  Don't think it's safe.  Dumbledore's death, attacks on the Ministry, delays in opening . . . "

"I reckon it isn't safe," Harry agreed, "and even less so with me here."

"Harry -- " Hermione began, and Ron pursed his lips whilst Neville and Dean looked embarrassed.  But Seamus was more honest, or less tactful.

"That's part of what they're worried about, yeah," he replied, receiving a thump on the arm from Ginny.  "What?" he asked.  "It's the truth.  I didn't say it was Harry's fault, did I?"

"It is the truth," Harry admitted, even as a short, squat woman in scary pink robes rose to clap her hands, expression as saccharine awful as her clothes.

"Children," she said, "please.  A little respect."

"Who's that?" Seamus asked.

"The new Headmistress, apparently," Hermione replied as the woman sat back down in the golden throne that had been Dumbledore's.  It almost physically hurt to see her sitting there.  "Dolores Umbridge, former Undersecretary to Minister Fudge."

"Looks sort of like a pig," Seamus said philosophically, "in all that pink."

"Toad," Neville offered unexpectedly, then blushed, but Dean, Seamus and Ron were all nodding.

"Yeah, mate, toad's right," Ron said.

"Boys," Hermione said, "are rude."

"But honest, yeah?" Ron asked.  "Don't tell me you weren't thinking something similar."  Given the expression on Hermione's face, she had been thinking something similar.  Harry might have been more amused if he hadn't been depressed to be reminded that Dumbledore was no longer here.

In any case, the sorting passed quickly, ending with Zeller, Rose, and students joined their tables as the pink-robed Headmistress approached the podium again, smiling out at all of them like the cat who'd caught the canary.  Harry hoped she kept it brief so they could eat; he was starving.

Apparently, that was too much to ask.  "Boys and girls," she began, still beaming, "I can't tell you how happy I am to be here at Hogwarts again, and to take up the mantle laid upon me, guiding each of you through the wonderful adventure of your unfolding magical education."

Harry glared.  He thought it a bit inappropriate for her to sound so happy to be Headmistress considering her predecessor hadn't retired but been murdered.

"I'm well aware," she went on, "that in recent years, your schooling has been repeatedly . . . disturbed . . . by events that had nothing to do with educating you, but in fact, interfered with that goal --"

Harry felt his eyebrows rise and he glanced over at Ron, mouthing, 'What?'

"Oh, yeah," Ron muttered back, "like anybody invited giant, deadly snakes to crawl the halls on purpose."

"Well, Voldemort did," Harry muttered back.

They weren't the only ones muttering and Umbridge uttered a ridiculous-sounding "hem, hem" before continuing, "Students, your former Headmaster may have tolerated you speaking while he addressed you, but I certainly won't."  Harry glowered further at her oblique critique of Dumbledore's methods.

"Now, as I was saying, your education has been disturbingly fractured of late, but I do hope we can overcome that problem this year.  We'll have a clearer code of conduct, proper revision times in the library or Great Hall, and membership in clubs or sports groups will require maintenance of certain marks.  There will also be more severe penalties for repeated tardiness, skipping classes, or being caught out of common rooms after curfew, among other things."

Raising her eyes, she looked right at the Gryffindor table and Harry couldn't help but feel her gaze searching him out amidst the double row of students.  Her smile remained, but it was hard.

"This new code will be posted in full to each common room by tomorrow morning.  Please be certain to read it, as ignorance will not constitute an excuse.  But really, I'm quite certain that for the vast majority of our students, these new rules won't be anything they haven't already been following."  She beamed out at all of them again.

"Blimey," Ron muttered, "how old does she think we are?  Five?"

"Shhh," Hermione hushed him.

"We'll save the introductions of additional new staff" -- Umbridge shot a glance at Mad-Eye Moody where he was seated between McGonagall and Flitwick -- "until after the meal."  She waved her wand with a grand gesture that Harry supposed she thought looked reminiscent of Dumbledore, conjuring the meal from the kitchens below, but all Harry could think was that Dumbledore hadn't needed a wand.

Wand needed or not, the food appeared and Harry was too hungry to pay attention to any conversations until he'd finished his first plateful and was loading up a second.  Around him, most discussion centered on the attacks at the Ministry over the summer, and speculation as to what Voldemort had wanted.  Harry, who knew, tuned it out, and when anybody seated nearby asked him questions, he answered vaguely.  Now and then, he looked over at the Hufflepuff table to see if Cedric was still being snubbed and at the Ravenclaw table to see what Cho was up to.  Once, he caught her looking back at him and nearly dropped his fork onto his plate.

Aside from talk of the attacks, there were also questions about the Ministry exams, and whether they'd still be having them.  "I reckon so," Fred said.  "Too important to cancel if they're not cancelling school."  He shot Ron a grin.  "You'd better not make too many social plans, little brother, as you'll be spending all your time revising."

"Lovely."  Ron snorted.  "Wish they'd just cancel the lot."

"Oh, no!" Hermione said, "Those exams determine what courses we'll be able to continue with and what jobs we can pursue after school!"

"We're in a war, Hermione," Ron pointed out.  "We'll be lucky to finish school, never mind get jobs afterwards."

"Wars aren't interminable, Ron," Hermione replied.

"What are these exams?" Harry asked before they could fall to bickering.  He didn't want to talk about war.  Sirius had mentioned exams, too, but he hadn't been specific and Harry hadn't thought to ask further questions.

"OWLs," Hermione said, "which we'll be taking, are Ordinary Wizarding Levels.  Fred and George . . . and well, Cedric too, they'll have NEWTs . . . "

"Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests," George finished.

"You're kidding," Harry said, but it wasn't a question.  Nobody would actually name exams that.

"Actually, I'm not," George replied.

"At least they're honest," Fred added.

Talk turned then to the eulogy for Dumbledore that had appeared a month earlier in The Daily Prophet.  Harry had cut it out and Stuck it to the wall of the room he'd been sharing with Ron.  Elphias Doge, who'd written it, had apparently been a member of the Order of the Phoenix in the first war.  "Technically he still is one," Sirius had told Harry, who'd never met Doge, "but he's old now."

"So was Dumbledore," Harry had protested.

"Well yes," Sirius had agreed, "but somehow Dumbledore never seemed old in the same way" -- which was true enough.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Parvati Patil's voice on his far left.  "Rita Skeeter's working on a biography of him, did you hear?  Apparently she's found things from his youth that aren't entirely on."

Harry jerked his head around to stare.  "You're joking!  Rita Skeeter's writing his biography?"

"Oh, yes," Parvati said, "it was mentioned in The Prophet last week -- due out in early November."  Parvati didn't look at him as she spoke and Harry suspected she still held a grudge for the disaster of the Yule Ball the year before.  "She did the biography of the previous headmaster too, you know, Armando Dippet -- pointing out exactly how incompetent he was."

"Yes, I'm sure Rita Skeeter is a terribly reliable reporter," Hermione snapped.  "We all know what a fair shake she gave Harry last year.  And the rubbish she printed about Hagrid . . . !"

"But Hagrid is a half-giant," Parvati replied.  "She didn't lie about that, it's just an inconvenient truth for anybody who's his fan."

"Besides," Lavender added, "you're still tetchy over what she wrote about you."

Hermione glared, but Parvati finished before she could reply, "I, for one, would like to hear what she's got to say about Dumbledore."

Harry lost his temper.  "Well, I wouldn't!" he spoke in a loud voice that garnered glances from other tables.  "Rita Skeeter's nothing but an ugly old gossip looking for a barney and slandering Dumbledore's memory!"  Parvati sniffed, but other than Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the twins, the rest at the table looked a bit uncomfortable -- even Neville.

"You know my gran's always been a big supporter of Dumbledore, Harry," he said, "but she's old enough to remember Dumbledore from earlier days, and I think she's a bit worried about this biography."

"There, you see?" Parvati said.  "It's not that I don't respect Dumbledore, but I don't believe he was perfect either."

"I don't think he was perfect," Harry muttered defensively, but he knew that more often than not, he had expected Dumbledore to have all the answers, ignoring mistakes the Headmaster had made, including the one that had resulted in his own death.  The meal was tense for a while after that until pudding arrived.  Harry went right for the treacle tart as usual, and by the time he was halfway through, Umbridge had risen to approach the podium yet again.

She rattled off the usual announcements -- the Forbidden Forest really was forbidden, etcetera -- then issued a reminder about the new rules, and concluded, "New staff this year, aside from, of course, myself" -- she gave a little simper -- "include Mr. Stamford Jorkins, who'll be joining us part time as a much needed public relations officer and the school's liaison with the Board of Regents.  In addition, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher will be Alastor Moody."  She coughed, which sounded as fake as her "hem, hem," adding, "The real Alastor Moody, as Professor Dumbledore apparently wasn't able to tell the difference."

That won low murmurs all around the Hall, and Harry gritted his teeth.  This Umbridge person was missing no chance to highlight anything she considered a fault of Dumbledore's.

"I do believe that is all our announcements for this evening.  As usual, you'll be receiving your class timetables at breakfast, so please don't be late.  Prefects, you can -- "

"Excuse me."

All eyes in the hall swivelled from Umbridge to the man standing up at the staff table behind her, uncharacteristically interrupting the Welcome Feast announcements.  Mad-Eye Moody.  Startled, Umbridge glanced around.  Her mouth was open slightly, making her look a bit foolish.  "Er, yes, Professor Moody?"

"So sorry to interrupt."  Moody didn't, Harry thought, look at all sorry, and Harry shot Ron a grin as Moody thumped his ever-present cane on the Hall floor.  "Just have a quick announcement of my own, and this seemed the time."  Not waiting for Umbridge's permission, he looked out at the tables and his voice rose, "In light of the return of He Who Must Not Be Named, and the clear danger that presents, I'll be reviving the duelling club that I understand has fallen by the wayside.  Professor Flitwick's agreed to help.  Meetings for first and second years'll be on Tuesday nights, third and fourth years on Wednesdays, and fifth, sixth and seventh years on Thursdays -- starting this week.  That's all, thanks."  He sat back down.

Apparently trying to decide whether to be gracious or affronted, Umbridge finally settled on the former, but couldn't resist adding, "Thank you, Professor Moody, although in the future, if you have an announcement, I believe it's customary to inform the Head in advance."

"I'll keep that in mind, Dolores," Moody replied, still not looking much bothered.

"Yes," she said, "yes, well, students, you're dismissed.  Prefects, please show the first years to their dormitories.  Thank you."

Benches scraped and voices buzzed as students rose to head out.  Ron had to help Lavender with the first years, so Harry headed for the doors with Hermione, Neville, Dean and Seamus.  There were several calls of, "Hi, Harry!" as he exited the hall, and he nodded back, a bit confused by this sudden popularity.

"Wonder what that was all about with Moody?" he asked.

"Well, obviously Professor Moody didn't want to tell Umbridge in advance," Hermione said.  "He must have doubted she'd approve, and it's easier to beg forgiveness than get permission -- especially if you announce something to a room full of people."

"Huh," was all Harry replied as they reached the main entranceway.  In the distance, he caught a glimpse of Cedric's tall figure headed down the stairs to the Hufflepuff common room.  He was still alone, and Harry wondered how his first night back would go if his own roommates weren't talking to him.

Harry's own first night back was a combination of happy reunion and anxious discussion of matters in the external world, first in the common room, then later up in his dormitory.  Nobody got to sleep until past midnight, and waking in the morning was difficult.  Harry waited until virtually the last minute before crawling out of bed for the showers and then dressing without bothering to comb his hair -- it never stayed combed anyway.  He was still tying his tie as he descended behind Ron into the common room, which was eerily subdued.  Most of the students were gathered around the notice board, but others -- with hard, unhappy expressions -- were packing book satchels and heading out.  Ron and Harry joined Hermione, who looked distressed.  "This isn't good," she muttered as she turned away, letting in the two boys to look.  "I'll have to search my trunk . . . "

She didn't elaborate on what she'd be searching her trunk for, so Harry turned to the official-looking parchment tacked in the middle of the notice board:

CODES OF CONDUCT
for Hogwarts Students

1.  School robes are to be worn at all times outside dormitories and common rooms whilst on Hogwarts grounds; no Muggle-style clothing is permitted.  Uniform shirts are to be tucked in and ties tied above the first button.  Girls electing to wear skirts must wear tights, and skirts may not rise more than 1 inch above the knee.  Stained or torn clothing is not allowed and should be left for the house-elves to see to.  In short, neatness of person is expected.

2.  Girls with long hair should tie it back with an Alice band, hair slides, or ribbon.  Boys who adopt wizarding hair fashions must also tie it back if it reaches more than one inch below their collar.  Boys are expected to be clean-shaven.

"Wish I had some facial hair to shave," Ron muttered, rubbing his barely stubbly chin.

3.  A list of the 437 traditionally banned items is available on the notice board outside Mr. Filch's office.  It includes Dungbombs, Fanged Frisbees, Screaming Yo-yos, illegal potions, alcohol, Dark objects, etc.  In addition to this usual contraband, Muggle items are no longer permitted.  We're witches and wizards and this is a school of magic, not of Muggle studies.  Periodic, random inspections of dorms will be conducted to confiscate any banned items.

4.  Excessive displays of physical affection between couples -- being in poor taste -- will not be tolerated, and any boy and girl caught alone together behind closed doors will be punished, and possibly expelled.  Among the acts considered to be excessive are:  full-body embraces, kisses lasting more than a few seconds, open mouthed kisses of any length, and hands placed on body parts that could not be exposed in public.

Harry resisted giggling, thinking that this was one time being gay might be an advantage; nobody would blink at finding two boys together behind closed doors.  Somehow, he doubted Cedric would see the humour in that.

5.  All students are required to invest at least seven hours a week in revision either in the library or the Great Hall -- roughly one hour per day.  Sign-in and sign-out sheets will magically record a student's arrival and departure times.  Students who fail to invest the required seven hours will face detentions.  Students are encouraged to use any free periods to earn their seven hours.

6.  Students must maintain mark averages of an A or better in all classes in order to maintain membership in clubs or sports teams.  Earning a P average will result in probation, a D will result in temporary suspension, and a T will result in that student's immediate removal from all clubs or teams.

Oh, great, Harry thought, hoping Snape wouldn't use this new rule as a way to remove Harry from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.  Harry had a hard enough time maintaining even an A in Snape's class, and he wasn't much better in Divination or History of Magic, either.

7.  Repeated tardiness, skipping classes without permission, or breaking curfew will result not only in detentions, but in suspension of participation in all clubs or teams.  If that does not fix the problem, guilty students could find themselves gated, suspended temporarily, or even expelled.

8.  As a result of the current dangerous environment, Hogsmeade Weekends are under review for possible cancellation.  Whilst the staff recognises the popularity of these weekends, student safety is our foremost concern.

9.  Any student caught plagiarizing or cheating is subject to possible expulsion.  Cheating is defined not only as copying answers during an exam, or the buying and selling of exam answers in advance, but also students writing essays for other students, or the buying and selling of essays.  Students are expected to do their own work.

"Those are harsh," Ron said as he and Harry reached the end.  Ron was unconsciously straightening his tie.  "And does that mean Hermione can't help us with our homework anymore?"

"Yes, Ron, that means I'm not going to risk getting expelled for doing your homework," Hermione replied as she rejoined them to head out of the portrait hole for breakfast.

"You're not doing it; you're just -- "

"Rewriting it?  Sometimes from scratch?  Or finishing it when you can't be bothered?  Yes, Ron that is doing your homework."  She sighed then and ran a hand into her bushy hair.  "Still, some of those are harsh, although you have to admit the cheating rule is hardly new, if a bit expanded on.  Same with the maintenance of certain marks in order to engage in extracurricular activities, and the requiring of revision time, and the dress code.  Those were already rules too.  They just haven't been enforced much."

"That revision time is new!"

"No, Ron, actually it's not.  It's in the student handbook you were given when you got your letter . . . which I doubt you actually read, did you?  It states very clearly that students will be expected to study at least one hour a day in their common rooms, with prefects to oversee it.  The problem is that, for years now, prefects haven't been overseeing it."

Ron was gaping at her.  "You can't tell me you agree with these rules, Hermione!  I mean, what's with all the anti-Muggle stuff?  No Muggle clothes, no Muggle items . . . "

Hermione frowned.  "Well, that does bother me, I'll grant.  And if you'll notice, none of the newly appointed prefects, nor the Head Boy or Head Girl, are Muggleborns.  You and Lavender, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott, Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson -- all of them are at least half-bloods, and quite a few are purebloods."

Ron blinked, as if just considering that.  "Well, I reckon so, but my whole family's considered to be Blood Traitors, so I'm not sure why I'd be picked over Neville.  I think it's just coincidence."

"Coincidence that Lavender Brown was chosen over me?"  Hermione sniffed.  "I'm not trying to sound arrogant, but really, Ron."

Harry refrained from pointing out that Hermione was a bit bossy, and maybe the new Head had decided that Lavender, cloudy-headed or not, was better-liked and might get better obedience.  Whatever the reason, after reading the new rules, Harry had a bad feeling about the new year.

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