Harshing waited for the whole school to assemble into orderly lines then stood and placed his hand in a fist into the air and began to sing in a somewhat imperfect voice. As soon as he started the entire hall roared with the song:

"When Britain first, at heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main,
Arose, arose, arose from out the a-azure main,
This was the charter, the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang this strain:

Rule Britania!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

The nations, not so blest as thee,
Must in their turn, to tyrants fall,
Must in ,must in, must in their turn, to tyrants fall,
While thou shalt flourish, shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.


Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Brittons never, never, never shall be slaves.


Rule Britannia

When Britain first, at heaven's command,
Aro-o-o-ose from out the a-a-a-zure main,
Arose, arose, arose from out the a-azure main,
This was the charter, the charter of the land,
And guardian A-a-angels sang this strain:

Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves. Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

The nations, no-o-o-o-ot so blest as thee,
Must i-i-i-i-in their turn, to ty-y--yrants fall,
Must in ,must in, must in their turn, to ty-y-rants fall,
While thou shalt flourish, shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and e-e-e-e-nvy of them all.

Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves."

Felicity shifted uncomfortably, trying to create a bubble of space around her. She hated large groups of people and she hated organization. Harshing had managed to combine the two, the git. She had made sure, though, to fix her uniform so that it met school regulations before appearing. Being rather tall, blonde, and loud, she tended to stick out in a crowd rather than blend in and she found it was best not to give teachers something to pick on her for.

She let a small smirk light her face as Harshing burst into song. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it definitely wasn't a rousing round of Rule, Britannia. But hey, to each his own, hmm? She joined in halfheartedly at first, but eventually she managed to get into the swing of it. She had always liked the song, and even if she was battling the urge to try and skive off this entire address, she figured she should be patriotic. Her voice was loud and clear, and actually rather good - but it could hardly be heard above the roar that filled the hall. All for the best; she didn't like to sing in public, anyway.

When the Hall finally sank into relative silence, Felicity's eyes, which had been roaming the crowd, fixed attentively onto Harshing. Her class professors would have simply died of jealousy if they were to see. However little attention she paid to her homework, Felicity was not stupid, and she was quite on guard when Harshing was on stage. He demanded respect for his students, but more often than not he demanded fear, as well. Anyone who used cruelty and fear to gain respect was not someone worth trusting in Felicity's book - but worth figuring out was a different story completely. So she listened, the picture of scholarly attention.

Harshing sat down on his modest seat and the rest of the school followed suite. When everyone was seated he stood up again and began to pace the plateau.

"Can you hear that noise?" His hissed, his voice slicing through the air like a knifed wind. "Its the noise that silence makes..." He breathed in pleasure for several moments before opening his eyes again.

"Hogwarts shall return to the values it held fifty years ago. No more disrespect, no more blubbering, no more failing students. There will only be undying, unceasing, unyielding loyalty to your House, School and Headmaster." He surveyed the students. Someone was muttering on the back row. His wand was out in seconds and like an Olympic fencer his wand was trained on the culprit.

BAM! A jet of blinding light shot through the air and froze the girl in a solid ice cube. "If I had my way she would have been tortured until she would never speak again," he spat, semi-talking to himself and to the hall. "Together, we shall restore Hogwarts to its glory days. Together we shall strive into the dawn of a new era. An era that mirrors one of old. Together, we shall be victorious."

Harshing pressed his hands together smiling at the immense applause from the Slytherin table, they were going wild at his speech. He held up a hand to silence them.

Flame, like the other students, stood in the hall though she spent her time not listening to Harshing but scanning the crowd. Somewhere, in this very room, would stand a pure-blood of a good healthy family. That boy, yes it would be a boy, may be her future. Harshing had made it clear- her future lay where she had always thought it would, with the pure-blooded, superior race.

Flame, however, did listen to the latter. the song held no importance, but his words did. He was securing the future of Hogwarts in those words and that, she found, was most important of all. When Slytherin cheered she was among them, though she silence almost as soon as he held up his hand.

Welcome to the all new, improved Hogwarts. she thought silently.

There was a certain expression Lysander reserved for those he respected greatly. It was an expression of the utmost attentiveness, respect, and obedience. He was not wearing it when he was looking at Harshing. Oh, he looked respectful enough. But dislike lay in his eyes as he observed the Headmaster. Lysander didn't have a "side" in what he considered 'this whole wizarding-world war thing', but he did know that Harshing got on his nerves. And so when he sat down, he allowed himself to slouch a bit.

Lysander's eyes narrowed during Harshing's speech, and his eyebrows flew into his hair when Harshing punished the girl who had been muttering in the back. That guy, he thought grimly to himself, is a complete sicko. Lysander was strangely relieved that it was his last year at Hogwarts - and he never thought he would be thinking as much. He was just worried about those who still had years to go. HIs eyes fell on a group of first years sitting at the end of the table, and he felt a strange sort of pity for them. They should be able to enjoy Hogwarts; they shouldn't have to fear the likes of Harshing.

When the Slytherins began to cheer, Lysander could not resist rolling his eyes (though he made sure not to do so in the Headmaster's direction). It figured. He tended to get along quite well with many of the Slytherins - at least, those who didn't know, or suspect, that he was only halfblood. Just the same, they were the type to cheer for Harshing.