Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related material created by J.K. Rowling or various publishers or Warner Brothers.

A/N: Sorry for the insert character. Enjoy the story

"Harry, you look awful."

"Thanks, Hermione." In the sun of Diagon Alley, just outside the Leaky Cauldron, after a whole summer apart, this was what she had to say to him.

"No, I mean it. Have you been eating?"

Harry glanced at Ron, expecting see an eye-roll or hear a "really, Hermione." But Ron's expression mimicked Hermione's worried face.

"Well," said Harry, "I haven't really had much of an appetite, to tell you the truth." He really hadn't realized how much thinner he looked.

"And you haven't been sleeping either, huh?" said Ron.

"No, I guess not," said Harry. "Is it really that bad?"

Ron shrugged. Hermione bit her lip. "We're worried about you, Harry."

"I know," he said. "But I'm okay. Really." What else could he say? She was forcing him to lie.

"No, you're not. Look, I know Sirius-"

"Hermione," said Ron. "Drop it."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude. At last, Ron had stepped in and done his job.

"So," Ron turned to Harry again. "How was the Knight Bus?"

"Awful, as usual. But how else was I going to get here? The Dursleys drove me to London when I was eleven and they figure they've done enough for me."

"Oh yeah," said Ron, "How is ol' Dudley, anyways? You didn't mention him in your letters."

"Awful, I hope. I do my best to torture him."

Hermione bit her lip again, but Ron laughed.

"You guys already bought all your stuff, I guess," said Harry.

They nodded.

"Feel like coming with me to do it all again?" Harry pulled the Hogwarts letter from his pocket.

"Books first, wouldn't you say?" said Hermione as they started off.

"With you, books are always first," said Ron. But they went into Flourish and Blott's anyways.

"Mr. Potter!" cried the shopkeeper. "So good to have you back! I'm a big fan, you know."

"A big fan??" Harry mouthed to Ron, horrified, as the shopkeeper disappeared behind his desk. "What's that supposed to mean?" Ron had to cover his mouth to smother the giggles.

"Here we are!" said the shopkeeper, emerging with an armload of books and giving them to Harry.

"What? I.. uh.." Harry looked at the pile in his arms. It was everything on his list. "But... how did you know what I was taking?"

"It's in the papers," said Hermione quietly, who didn't seem to find all this quite as funny as Ron did.

Harry almost dropped his books. "The papers? Are you serious?"

The shopkeeper was smiling and waiting to be paid.

As Harry fished some gold from his pocket, Hermione said, "I told you to read the daily prophet. Haven't you been getting it?"

"Yes," said Harry defensively, as they came out of the shop. "I just don't read all of it."

Hermione sighed. Just then, a voice called to them from down the street.

"Hey, you guys!"

Neville was hurrying towards them. "Hi, Neville," said Harry. "Where's your Gran?"

"Oh, she lets me shop on my own now."

"Now that you're sixteen?" said Ron, "Good for you, Neville."

"Oh, that reminds me, thanks for the birthday card, Harry. But how did you know when my birthday was?"

Harry thought quickly. "Because you told me, don't you remember? We found out we have the same birthday."

Neville looked slightly worried. "No, I don't remember that. Sorry, guess I should have sent you something. Anyways, happy late birthday."

"Thanks," said Harry, "and don't worry about it."

Neville walked with them towards the next shop. "Where's Ginny?" he asked after a moment.

"Yeah," said Harry, "Where is she, anyways?"

Ron scowled, which made Hermione grin. "She's off shopping with her boyfriend," she said. "You know, Dean."

"Did everyone leave their shopping to the last minute this year?" asked Harry, as they past a group of rising forth-years.

"I don't think anyone wanted to leave home earlier than they had to. You know, with the war and all," said Hermione.

She was probably right. In the few months Harry had been absent from the wizarding world, already many changes had taken place. He noticed a certain tension in the air, despite the youthful excitement of so many Hogwarts kids being reunited and spending money. The adults seemed to hurry from shop to shop, and many stores had actually been closed indefinitely. Those old enough to remember the last war were becoming more and more afraid. Harry was very glad that he blended in with the other students around him.

When they had finished barely half of Harry's shopping, he was already exhausted. He was tired of the people, the crowds, the shopkeepers who shook his hand and tried to give him discounts, even Ron and Hermione. He was tired of talking, and he wanted to get back to his room to be alone with the same thoughts that had plagued him all summer, though he knew that once he got there he would get lonely or bored and want to go out again. It was the same restlessness that had stayed with him since that night in Dumbledore's office months ago... The fact was that he was simply no happier no matter what he did, whether he was with his friends or alone, outside or in, doing schoolwork or listening to the Dursley's TV or doing nothing at all.

Hermione must have noticed Harry's strained expression, because she suggested they go back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. On the way they passed Ginny and Dean sharing a sundae at Florean Fortesque's. They looked so absorbed in their conversation, and Ron so disgusted, that Harry, Hermione, and Neville decided to keep on walking, at a rather brisker pace than they had before.

That night they tried to get rooms at the inn, but ran into a bit of a problem. Since Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had stayed home, letting Ron and Ginny go on their own, the kids had naturally waited till the last minute.

"Apparently," Hermione told them in the hall, "There's only one room left. And even that's just because of Harry. Ol' Tom did something, I'm not sure what, I think he kicked his mother out or something, but it was the most he could possibly do."

"Er..." said Ron, "How many beds?"

"Two, thankfully," said Hermione. "So you two can go in one, and Ginny and I will sleep in the other."

"Are you serious?" said Ron.

"Would you rather sleep with Ginny? Because I can tell you, I'm not going to share the bed with you."

"It's just," said Harry, "kind of weird, don't you think?"

"Oh come off it!" said Hermione, "Me and Ginny have shared dozens of times. Believe me, you won't get cooties or turn gay or anything."

"Are you sure?" said Ron, and Harry laughed.

"Fine, then," said Hermione, "Sleep on the floor if you're that insecure about your own sexuality. Here's the key; I'm going to the bathroom to change before bed."

"It's eleven o'clock!" said Ron.

"Yes, and we have to get up early tomorrow to make the train."

She disappeared as Ron stared disapprovingly after her.

"How are we getting to the station tomorrow?" asked Harry.

"I think we're taking a cab," said Ron. "What does she mean 'insecure about my own sexuality'?"

"What, a muggle cab?"

"I'll show her..." Ron muttered distractedly, then turned back to Harry. "What did you say? Don't be stupid, why would we take a muggle cab? I guess it would be okay for one night, you know. Or else she might think we really are gay."

"Um, okay."

"But really, how could she say that? D'you reckon she really does think we're gay?"

"Oh my God, Ron, I'm sure she doesn't actually think that. And I know you don't want her of all people to think you're gay but trust me she doesn't. No one thinks you're gay!" Exasperated, Harry turned up the stairs after Hermione.

"What's all that supposed to mean?"

Harry turned around. "Well, you're in love with her, aren't you?" He didn't know why he was so angry, but he was.

"What?"

"Everyone knows it, Ron. Why don't you just go fuck her, for heavens sake?"

Ron stared at him for a moment. "What's with you?" he said quietly.

Harry sat down on the stairs. "I don't know," he said. "I'm sorry."

Ron looked down. "This happened last year, too."

"What did?"

"You getting angry all the time."

"I know," said Harry. "I'm sorry. But you know-"

"You're having a hard time. Yeah, I know. It's okay, Harry."

Again Harry felt a warm wave of gratitude towards Ron. He felt the tingle of it over his whole body.

"I hope no one else heard what I said," remarked Harry after a moment.

Ron laughed, and everything was normal again. Just then, Harry heard footsteps behind him.

"Are you two ever going to go to bed?" asked Hermione from the top of the stairs. "Because I'm not waking you up in the morning."

She seemed to think this was a threat. Harry and Ron exchanged a look and hid their grins.

"Well it is quite late," she said. "You'll notice no one else is still up and about. Speaking of which, hasn't Ginny come back yet?"

"We haven't seen her," said Ron. "She didn't say anything to you?"

"She said she was going over to Dean's house; he lives around here, you know; but when she said she might spend the night, I assumed she was joking."

"What?" cried Ron, "You mean right now my little sister is over at Dean's place doing who knows what and you didn't tell me?"

"You didn't ask," said Hermione.

Ron ignored her. "That bugger! That absolute prick! I'll get him, I tell you; he's not going to get away with this..."

Harry turned to Hermione. "Perhaps we'd better leave him to his muttering."

"What, leave him alone in this state?" Hermione said in a mock-shocked voice, "I think he's unpredictable, a danger to himself and others- perhaps we should be calling Saint Mungo's."

At that moment, Ginny herself appeared in the hallway.

"You!" said Ron.

Ginny stopped and raised her eyebrows. "Me?"

"Where have you been?"

"I told Hermione, I was at Dean's. Hullo, Harry. Long time no see."

Harry waved.

Ron, however, was not to be distracted. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Er... midnight?"

"Close," said Hermione from the top of the stairs.

"What were you doing?" Ron demanded.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she walked right past her brother. "Look, Ron, I know what you're thinking but nothing happened- Harry could you move? Thanks- Actually, we broke up if you must know."

"Really?" said Hermione, who was also now moving aside to let Ginny pass, "How come?"

"Well, apparently he was thinking the same thing as Ron."

"Er, what did you expect him to think when you said you'd spend the night?"

"That was a joke, Hermione. I never told him that! I just said I'd join him for dinner. But you know what? His parents weren't even home."

Ron made a choking noise.

"It was really weird," Ginny continued, "and then he was like 'aren't you going to stay the night?' I mean, really! I can't believe he thought I was that kind of girl! And you, too, Ron. Honestly. Boys are trash. From now on, I am officially a lesbian."

"Well, that's convenient," said Hermione, "We're sharing a bed tonight."

"Oh, good," said Ginny as she disappeared into the bathroom, "We can get it on."

"Now there's an unwelcome image," said Ron. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him and went into the bedroom.

That night, like every other night, Harry couldn't sleep. But this time he could feel Ron breathing beside him and it made him unreasonably uncomfortable. Apart from the light snoring of the other three, the room was silent. Spells on the walls prevented any noise whatsoever from slipping in from the outside. The quiet was driving Harry mad.

He got up and paced around the room. It was half insomnia that kept him awake, and half fear of his terrible dreams. But his thoughts kept straying to those exact things he didn't want to think about- Sirius, the prophecy, what it had felt like being possessed by Voldemort, and what might happen in the future. Eventually he came back to the same place he always did: There was nothing to live for, nothing at all, except that he was responsible for countless lives, for England and maybe the rest of the world, too. Because who could tell what might happen if Voldemort won? And if that happened, it would be Harry's fault.

Harry tortured himself with all this, pacing faster and faster around the small room. He watched Sirius disappearing into the archway, and thought how long it would be until he, Harry, might see him again. And it was Harry's fault. He couldn't stand it. He just couldn't stand it. He was so unhappy, he hated himself, he hated living like this- in a fit of passion he punched the wall. Pain shot up from his hand and for an instant seemed to fill his whole body. Then he heard a voice in the dark.

"Harry?" It was Ron. Harry hadn't realized how much noise he had made. He didn't move.

"Harry?" Ron called again, less certain this time. Harry was glad for the dark.

"Yeah?" said Harry.

"Was that you?"

"Yes. I... I guess I was sleepwalking."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine. Did you take the potion we got you this morning?"

They had bought it to help him sleep. "I forgot," Harry lied. The potion did not keep dreams away. But of course, now he had no choice but to take it and come back to bed, with Ron making jokes and calling him "Luv."

Ron woke with a jolt. It took him a moment to realize what was happening. Harry was screaming and writhing next to him. The next minute he had Harry's arms and was shaking him. Harry twisted, half awake, and tried to escape Ron's grip. He worked one of his arms free and punched Ron in the face.

"Harry!" Ron yelled, pinning the other boy down. "Harry, it's me! It's Ron. You're okay. Wake up, dammit!"

Harry shook his head wildly, his eyes wide open and glittering. Ron was vaguely aware of Hermione and Ginny moving around and making noise, but Harry was still struggling.

"Harry," Ron whispered into his ear, "Come back."

Harry fell still. His face was flushed and trickles of blood were running down where he had scratched the skin. They were both breathing heavily from their struggle.

For moment, no one moved. Then Ron said, "Okay, Harry?"

Harry nodded, an odd look in his eyes. "Okay," he whispered.

Ron released him, and blushed when he realized he had been straddling his friend.

"What happened?" asked Ginny, her voice wavering.

They all looked at Harry, who gazed around him as if orienting himself and after a moment said, "Just a nightmare."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. "Er," said she, "What kind of nightmare?"

Harry shook his head distractedly. "A regular dream. Not- not like a vision or anything."

"Can we get something for his face?" said Ron.

"Yes, of course," said Hermione, "Hang on."

"What's wrong with my face?" asked Harry as she left the room. As he said this, he lifted a hand to touch it. His fingers came away red. "Oh my God," he said.

"Did it yourself, mate," said Ron, trying not to sound worried. He noticed Ginny was shaking slightly. He had forgotten she'd never seen one of Harry's turns before.

"Is he okay?" she asked Ron, as if Harry weren't there.

Ron looked at Harry, unwilling to speak for him. Harry looked up at her. "Yes," he said, though he still sounded distant, "I'm okay."

Hermione returned and handed Ron a bag of ice. "He got you pretty bad," she said, tenderly examining the red spot that had bloomed where Harry had hit him. Ron felt a sudden heat at her touch. He wished Harry hadn't said all those things earlier.

"Did I do that?" asked Harry. "Sorry, Ron."

"S'okay, mate. Couldn't be helped."

Hermione turned to Harry. She sat down beside him and took his chin in her hands and looked over the scratches. "Ginny," she said, "get me a towel from the bathroom. And wet it, would you?"

Ginny was back in a second with the towel. Hermione started wiping the blood from Harry's face. He winced. Then she took a bottle of salve from her pocket and with one finger gently smoothed it over the first abrasion.

"Ow!" said Harry, and gripped her arm.

"Come on, Luv," she said, "It'll help." He let his hand fall, and she continued.

By the time Harry's face had healed it was fully light out and Hermione said they might as well start getting ready to go. Ron wanted to sleep more, but thought it wise to obey.

"We have to go with the other prefects at first, of course," said Hermione as they boarded the train. "Did you know Ginny's made prefect?"

"No, I didn't," said Harry. "Congratulations, Ginny."

Ginny scowled. "Fred and George aren't speaking to me," she said. "And I don't blame them. It's a load of rubbish. And, really, why would you want for prefect the girl who opened the chamber of secrets?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other. It wasn't a matter they often spoke about.

"That wasn't you," said Harry.

"But it was my fault. I was stupid enough to trust him. And now they want me to be responsible for all these other kids. And in wartime, too! It isn't fair; I didn't ask for this."

Harry gave a brittle laugh. "I didn't ask to be responsible for all of you-"

Hermione coughed and said they had to get going. She was quite right, of course, as they were blocking the corridor. Reluctantly, Harry allowed himself to be steered away from Ginny.

He chose an empty compartment towards the back of the train and settled himself down by the window. He rested his face against the glass and tried to cool down. Ginny didn't know. But he felt she should have somehow. Or at least she could have kept her mouth shut. Even without the prophecy, hadn't he been forced to be responsible for them time and again? And there was no one else to count on. Just him.

The compartment door slid open, and Luna Lovegood appeared.

"Can I sit here?" she asked.

"Sure," said Harry. He was surprisingly glad to see her.

She took a seat across from him and unfolded the copy of her father's magazine that she had tucked under her arm.

"Did you have a good summer?" she asked him from behind the pages.

"It was a blast," he replied, somewhat sarcastically. But he had a feeling that sarcasm was lost on Luna. "How was yours?"

"Terrible," she said vaguely. "Did you know that Cornelius Fudge has been assassinated? Apparently, it happened months ago but the ministry's been hiding it. They even got a man to act like Fudge."

"I suppose you found that out playing the White Album backwards?"

"What?" She glanced up briefly.

"Nothing."

The door opened again, and this time another girl entered, someone Harry didn't know. She was exquisitely beautiful, with curling black hair and a pale, sharp face. She reminded Harry of someone as her eyes swept over the compartment.

"Any room?" she asked. But she was already shutting the door behind her. Harry just nodded, trying to place those grey eyes and upper class drawl in his memory. Suddenly he had it.

"I'm sorry, but are you related to Draco Malfoy?" he said.

"Yes," she said, looking surprised as she sat down next to him. "He's my twin, actually. Why, do we look alike?"

Harry nodded again.

"Lucia," she said, extending a hand, "and I take it you're Harry Potter."

He hesitated before shaking her hand. "And that's Luna Lovegood. Er... why haven't I met you before? If you're really Malfoy's sister - I mean, I've never even heard of you."

"I should think not." She tossed her head. "They don't approve of me, you see."

"What house are you in?" Harry was still skeptical.

"None, yet. I was at Durmstrang until they chucked me out."

"They chucked you out of Durmstrang? My God, what did you do?"

"It wasn't what I did," she said irritably, "so much as what they thought I did. And it doesn't help to have a family of Death Eaters."

"Oh, really? I thought your dear dad had everyone in his pocket."

"Well, that may be the case here," she said, "I don't know. But in Germany, especially now that Tom's back, they really don't take too kindly to people like me. Anyways, it seems my father is in prison nowadays, so I wonder how much political power he has anymore."

"Tom?"

"Fine, 'The Dark Lord,' then."

"You call him 'Tom.'"

"Alright, what do you call him, Potter?"

"I call him Voldemort."

"Oh, excuse me for using his given name."

"Anyways, I thought your father escaped Azkaban."

"Oh, did he? I haven't really been reading the news lately."

"I see. Are you sure you're his daughter?"

"Are you calling my mother a harlot?"

"What? No."

"Because I don't think she's had a moment of spontaneity or fun in her life. She's far too dull to have an affair."

"I'll remember that." Harry looked over and saw Luna watching them over her magazine.

"So, you know Draco, do you?" asked Lucia.

"Know him? He's the bane of my existence."

"How cliché," she said. "And wouldn't that be our friend Tom?"

"Okay, suffice to say, we hate each other."

"Well, that's no surprise. Considering the family and all. Poor bugger didn't get away like I did."

"You said they disapproved of you. Does that mean you disapprove of them?"

"To put it mildly, yes. I'm on you're side, I should say."

"But not according to Durmstrang."

"It wasn't Durmstrang that kicked me out. They don't mind any sort of politics. It was Germany. The government had me deported."

"Shit."

"I know."

"Really, though. What do they think you did?"

"They think I killed a girl. I was tried for murder, but they couldn't prove anything. But they didn't want to let me off, and they had their suspicions, my father being who he is and her family having been a long line of aurors. So they settled on sending me back to jolly old England."

"Can they really do that? Just send criminals off?"

"I don't know how legal it was, but they did it. And I wasn't a criminal remember, they hadn't proved anything."

"That's even worse, sending off innocent people."

"No, that's much better, actually. Who would you rather have sitting next to you, a criminal from Germany or an innocent?"

"But they must have given a reason."

"Security measures against terrorism and illegal political activity."

"I see." There was a pause. Then he added, "But you didn't kill her?"

"No," Lucia said quietly, "She was my girlfriend. I loved her."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all.

Luckily, the sweets cart came around about then. Harry wasn't hungry, but he bought some pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, and Bertie Bott's beans for Ginny, Ron, and Hermione.

The three sat in silence for a while, Luna reading the Quibbler and Harry and Lucia each lost in their own thoughts.

When Ginny, Ron and Hermione arrived, the door slid open with a bang that made Harry jump.

"Insufferable!" Ginny was saying, "He's absolutely insufferable!" Ron and Hermione seemed to be trying to calm her down, but her face had gone pale and her ears bright red, just like Ron's when he was angry.

"Who's insufferable?" asked Harry.

Ginny flung herself down next to Luna. "Guess who's the other prefect for Gryffindor? Colin Creevey."

"What? How'd he manage that?"

"That's what I'd like to know. And you know what? I think he fancies me! He kept making eyes at me and asking how I was doing and staring at me and oh my God he's so annoying!"

"Now you know how I feel," said Harry.

"Yes!" she said, "and he won't stop asking about you, either!"

"Yeah," said Ron, "Actually I think it's Harry he has a crush on more than anything else."

"Oh, shut up, Ron," said Harry.

"Or maybe," said Hermione teasingly, "It's Ginny he's been obsessed with all along and the only reason he was obsessed with Harry was that he knew Ginny was obsessed with him and he wanted Ginny to be obsessed with him."

"That doesn't even make sense," said Ron.

"I was never obsessed with Harry," said Ginny.

Lucia cleared her throat, and the others suddenly noticed her.

"I'm sorry," said Ginny, "I don't believe I've met you before. I'm Ginny Weasley."

"Lucia Malfoy."

Ron choked on the pumpkin pasty he had been eating. "Malfoy?"

Lucia rolled her eyes. "Yes, Malfoy. Lucius is my father; Draco is my brother. I won't bite, I swear."

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione. "And this is Ron, Ginny's brother. And I guess you've met Harry."

"More so in newspapers than in real life, but yes."

"Don't believe everything you read," said Luna suddenly from the corner.

"Hi, Luna," said Ginny. "Good summer?"

"Not really. Anyways, you can't believe the things they print in those newspapers."

"Yes," said Harry with a laugh, "Please, please, don't believe everything you read. Rita Skeeter..."

"Oh, don't talk about her," said Hermione. "Just the thought of that woman makes me sick."

"Who's Rita Skeeter?" asked Lucia.

"She used to write for the Prophet, before Hermione put her out of commission," explained Ron.

"Oh," said Lucia, "I haven't read the Prophet in... six years, I think. In Germany I read the local papers."

"They talk about me in German papers?" Harry asked.

"Well, yes. Especially this one underground paper. They believed you all along, you know. They write about you all the time, they say you're a symbol, an inspiration to the... er... what's the word?... working class or something."

Just then, the compartment door opened once again, this time for the obligatory visit from Draco, accompanied of course by Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Oh my God," said Hermione, before he could speak, "Don't you three have lives outside of annoying us?"

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Lucia was already on her feet and saying, "Draaaaco, my goodness, it's been so long! Oh, my dear, dear brother, at last we meet again!" And dramatically, she embraced him, while he stood frozen with shock, his mouth still open.

She finished hugging him and stood before him smiling brightly. He stared at her. Her expression turned to concern. "Don't you remember me, Draco? Has it been so long, Brother, that time has effaced from your mind the memory of my adoring face?"

"What are you doing here?" he said finally, speaking very low. He no longer seemed to be aware of the others around him.

"Didn't they tell you? I was deported, and-"

"I know that part," he said. "I'm not stupid. I just thought you were still in the loony bin."

"They let me out," she said. "So here I am."

"But you're mad."

"I got better."

"They said you tried to kill yourself."

"Only twice."

"They said you killed a girl."

"They lied."

"They said I'd never see you again."

"Well, I'm here now."

There was a pause.

"I hate you."

"I know."

There was nothing more to say. The compartment door slid shut.