Pansy Parkinson's Story

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As far as first days back went, Harry ranked this one somewhere between third year and sixth. The danger was gone, sure, but he still felt like something was...dark. The last time he'd been in the Great Hall, the floor had been littered with bodies. That wasn't the kind of thing he could forget, and he had a feeling plenty of others couldn't either.

The hall had been completely restored over the last year, and it was beautiful once again even in its sadness, the enchanted ceiling above them promising a nice day full of sunshine with a cool fall breeze. The First Years had come in all bright smiles and promising youth, and it'd been nice. To see things...normal.

He didn't feel as out of place as he thought he would, sitting at the very front of the hall in his purple robes. McGonagall had explained in her letter that it was to tell them apart from the underage students, especially from afar, as they were allowed different privileges. He also had a feeling it had something to do with unity...the younger years had class periods set aside to work on Interhouse Cooperation, but the Eighth Years were already forced to do so. Didn't keep them from splitting up...the former Slytherin's were on one side of the table, the former Gryffindor's on the other, the Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's between them. It wasn't surprising.

Harry was sure McGonagall was giving a lovely speech, but he couldn't focus. Most of his attention was on the piece of parchment in his hand, folding it, opening it, refolding it, over and over again, like a bad habit he couldn't seem to kick. It had his resolutions on it. He'd never been one for the tradition, but it seemed important this year. This year when he was getting a chance to start again. When they all were. He didn't want to waste it.
It was a good list, Harry thought. Technically the Auror program would have accepted him back with or without a complete education...perks of saving the Wizarding World he supposed, but he was determined to do it right. Sometimes he felt like a vat of magical energy and like he had no idea how to actually control it. Like all this time he'd been fumbling around and just forcing out power and hoping for the best. Which sounded about right, actually.

He was determined to move on, as well. The rest of the world had, for better or worse. There were people he had already forgiven, but more he needed to, and things that just...weren't important anymore, given the givens. Ron had decided not to return to school, or the Auror program at all, after a bit of thinking. He figured George needed him more, and they'd agreed to reopen Weasley Wizard Wheezes together. It felt odd, sitting at the table without him, and his free hand found Hermione's without him even really thinking about it, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew he needed to keep himself together, because she would call him out on it eventually.

And then there was Ginny. The breakup had been easy, if a little surprising to them both. Harry loved her, and he always would, but...not in the way he'd originally thought. They'd parted on good terms, and although things were still a little awkward, they were still friends. As for Malfoy...his plan thus far was just to avoid him, and leave boyhood squabbles where they belonged. In the past.

The hall was loud, cheerful voices rising and falling over each other, the professors laughing with one another. It was good, Harry thought, and he should be happy about it...but really, it was just making his head hurt. He crumbled up his piece of paper, shoved it in his pocket, and picked up his drink instead. The taste of Pumpkin Juice made him screw up his nose, and he sighed out of exhaustion. He needed a drink. A real drink. He'd made a promise to himself to quit, or at least cut back, but he was feeling like he deserved a cheat day, first day back and all...

"Now, as for you lot." Professor McGonagall had stepped down from the head of the room, now standing at the edge of their table. The rest of the hall fell to background noise, no doubt magically, as she glanced over each of their faces knowingly for a moment. "Obviously, this is a new program, so we are all on a bit of a learning curve. I'm sure you each gathered from my letter that, as you are adults, you will be treated as such. Keep in mind, this means I expect you to behave as much."

Harry was almost certain he felt her gaze move from him across the table to Malfoy, but he refused to look. "This means that you have fewer rules than any of the other years. You will be allowed to leave the grounds as you please, move about the castle freely, and have access to areas usually not permitted. Do not abuse this privilege," she paused for a moment to let that sink in before continuing. "I do, however, expect you to be in your common room by two in the morning. If you wish to spend the weekend off grounds, all I ask for is an owl to alert me as such. I am aware you are all of drinking age, but if I see alcohol on the grounds, you will be swiftly and severely punished, is that understood?"

There was a collection of nods, some dropped shoulders, but Harry didn't let it bother him. The rule pertained to her 'seeing' the alcohol, after all. It was a very Slytherin loophole for him to focus on, but a loophole nonetheless. "Unfortunately, the lot of you won't be permitted to participate in usual extracurriculars. It was decided among the staff that it wouldn't be quite fair to take away opportunities from the younger students. I do believe your extra freedoms should make up for this."

When there were no arguments, McGonagall gave a decisive nod, then her eyes searched the table again, landing on the few students whose robes were still red, yellow, blue, or green. "There are a few of you that your age determines you are still technically Seventh Years, though you'll be permitted to take Eight Year classes. I've allowed you to sit with your classmates, as well as room with them. However, I should point out that your age restricts you from some of their privileges, and I trust you to know which those are."

It was another announcement met with slight disappointment, but McGonagall moved on. "Shall I show you to your rooms, then?

Harry sighed and tapped his fingers against his glass three times before lifting it to his lips. This time, when he took a drink, he could clearly taste the bitter undertone of alcohol.