What We Require

Ch5: Contendite Sanabit [Strive to Heal]

Harry groaned comfortably as he slumped at the table – no matter how many times he experienced the Hogwarts Welcoming Feast, it always managed to delight him with the sheer quantity (and quality) of food available. He thought briefly of the summers he had spent being borderline starved by the Dursleys, and his stomach gurgled happily as the food settled, Harry patting his tummy as he absently looked up to the ceiling above him. It was strange seeing brick rather than the night outside – a huge crack ran across the stone like a wound, the result of one of McGonagall's own spells that Snape had deflected away when they had fought shortly before the Potions Master had fled the castle. It was just one more thing that hadn't been fixed from the battle.

Harry turned back to the table and was in the middle of chatting with Susan Bones, who was sitting across from him, when McGonagall appeared at the end of the table. Harry looked around, startled – he'd barely even noticed the Hall emptying; only the Eighth years remained.

McGonagall smiled warmly at the thirteen students before her, her eyes softer than was usual for the stern Professor.

"I must say it is wonderful to see you all here. I know that this must be strange for you, but I – and your other Professors – are so glad to see you have returned. Now, because of the limitations of the House dormitories, you thirteen will be staying together – Professor Flitwick and I have arranged a new common room and dorms for you. If you will follow me," she gestured and the thirteen Eighth Years stood and followed her out of the Great Hall, murmuring amongst themselves.

"She doesn't mean we'll be sleeping in the same room, does she?" Ron asked quietly and Harry shrugged.

"Well obviously we'll be split by gender, but I think we will be rooming with the other houses, if that's what you're implying Ron," Hermione replied, slipping to walk in between her two friends. "And don't complain – the Headmistress has more important things to be worrying about than you being paranoid around the Slytherins."

"Easy for you to say!" Ron said, his voice rising a little in volume – Hermione nudged him gently with her elbow and he dropped his voice again as the group followed McGonagall onto the moving staircases – the Headmistress had paused and coughed pointedly, and the staircase had moved immediately back to where it was supposed to be; Harry raised an eyebrow, impressed, before he tuned back in to what Ron was saying.

"You don't have to worry about wannabe Death Eaters hexing you while you're asleep - you've only got Bullstrode to keep an eye on, and she can barely tie her own shoelaces!"

Hermione elbowed Ron again, and this time it was a sharp jabbing motion that made the ginger wince.

"That was unnecessarily cruel, Ron. Ginny's already told you – we have to stop this kind of thinking. You heard what the Sorting Hat said!"

"Precisely right, Ms Granger," a sharp voice interrupted the trio, and Harry realised with a flush of embarrassment that the group had stopped and had been listening to Ron and Hermione bicker.

The two brunette Slytherins were glaring at Ron in particular, and Millicent Bulstrode looked like she wanted to punch his nose in. Zabini had a hand on her shoulder, but he was sneering coldly at Ron in disgust. Malfoy, on the other hand, looked angry, but he wasn't glaring at the trio – instead he had stepped slightly away from his fellow Slytherins and was scowling at the ground. He must have felt Harry looking at him, because Malfoy's silver eyes snapped up and caught Harry's. The blonde sneered, his face twisting proudly before he turned to the Headmistress.

"Moving on from Weasley's inability to keep his mouth shut – what's the password, Headmistress. Some of us would like to go to bed."

McGonagall frowned at Malfoy, but Harry noticed she didn't chastise his jibe at Ron, which she no doubt thought was warranted after the redhead's outburst. She turned to gesture at the portrait behind her – it was of a young girl with honey blonde curls who was sitting on a swing, eating an apple. She waved cheerfully at them as McGonagall introduced her.