For Harry, the summer with the Dursleys was strained to say the least. Petunia and Vernon couldn't really say anything to Harry as they were really scared of all the threats they'd received from his friends, and Dudley (since his encounter with the dementors) could hardly speak at all to anyone. Harry had grown to the point of gangliness. He stood proudly at about 5"10', just a few inches shorter than curly haired Ron Weasley, his best friend. As Harry tugged on the collar of his black cloak and stuffed the last of his books into his trunk, there was a knock at his door.
"Get out boy, some of the freaks are here to see you," the shrill voice of Aunt Petunia called.
"Coming!" he yelled. Nevertheless she kept knocking the door to his room and jiggling the doorknob annoyingly. He opened the door with a force that slammed it against the wall and pushed past his horse-faced aunt to run downstairs and meet his friends after a week of being deprived of all owls and correspondence.
"HEY!" the woman at the door said startling Harry silly. She hugged him briefly, and affectionately, and as soon as she let go, he was caught in another embrace, this time of Hermione Granger's, whom (also) he hardly recognized.
"Harry," said Hermione, "Meet the new and improved, Ginny Weasley!" Harry stared at the beaming fifteen-year old in front of him, now seeming very faintly recognizable. She gave a little giggle and Harry nearly blanched.
"Bu-but," he spluttered, "she's blonde!"
"Yea, I know," Hermione grinned, "isn't it great?"
"Erm--ahh,"
"I found the spell for it in our new Charms book!" Hermione was positively glowing at her grand accomplishment. But Harry, fortunately, was saved the need to compliment her further as Ron had just appeared behind Hermione, putting his arm around her.
"Hey, mate, need any help with the luggage?" Harry nodded, and he and Ron went up the stairs while the girls trailed, giggling, behind.
"What's going on with..er...V-Vol" he gulped, Hedwig giving encouraging hoots in the background, "You-Know-Who?" Ron had said the last part in a whisper.
"He's getting ready for the war, the Confrontation, you know, I haven't been able to see much in the dreams because he's taken a lot of preventive measures...now that he knows and all," Harry said. "I've been trying really hard with the Occlumency, too, but it doesn't seem to be doing me any good," Harry said forebodingly. Ron nodded, his eyes darting to the window unconsciously, then back to Harry's face.
"Tonks and Moody have their cloaks, and they want you to use yours as well. There are a lot of Death-Eaters about, you know, still hoping to take you by surprise. We're getting to King's Cross by Portkey, of course, so y'might want to warn the muggles." Ron glanced warily at the windows as he spoke in a hurried whisper.
Harry and Ron came downstairs noisily dragging Harry's belongings behind them. "I'M LEAVING!!" Harry yelled to his guardians in the den, but there was nothing but the loud chatter of the telly for a response. His expression was completely neutral, although, because he had gotten used to their 'I-don't-know-him-he-just-lives-with-us' behaviour. Ron and Hermione shared a meaningful look as Harry, slipping the cloak over himself and his things, left obliviously.
"Excuse me," a mousy little brunette girl approached Harry at the entrance to the platform.
"Yes?" Harry said, a bit testy. Moody's over-protective, over-cautious attitude was very slowly beginning to grate on his nerves. HOW in the world anyone could intercept Portkey was beyond him, but of course, someone was always after his blood, or Moody's, else life just wasn't any fun anymore.
"Erm, I know this sounds stupid, but do you by any chance know where erm--" she nervously adjusted the huge, round glasses on her nose, "Platf-form nine and thr-ree-quarters-is?" she stuttered. Harry's expression softened, as he remembered his own first-year, and Molly teaching him how to go through the wall.
"Now, now, that's all right," he said consolingly, patting her on the back, "just run through that barrier right there," he said, the little girl's widened eyes going unnoticed.
'W-wait, what?" the little girl asked in a shrill tone. Harry stopped and smiled at himself. He had gotten so used to magic that he was slowly forgetting how incredulous it must sound to ordinary...muggle...people.
"It's ok, don't worry, I thought it was quite stupid myself. Just go up to it with your things and lean on the wall and you'll pass through. I'll do it with you, if you want." The little girl nodded, with some reluctance, and both of them safely passed the barrier to the other side where the rest were waiting.
"What's your name?" Harry asked.
"Melly--er, Melly Andrews," she answered shyly turning her gray eyes upon him. She was curiously eying the Express and the people clamoring around, and then the small odd bunch of people looking at her and the nice boy next to her with a sort detached interest. The only one who wasn't--a red-headed boy--was leaning against a nearby iron shaft, whistling, and throwing a minute owl up and down as if it were a ball. The owl seemed to be enjoying it (it was hooting happily), to her surprise, and for a second, she couldn't pry her eyes away from the bewildering sight.
"This is Melly," he told them, "and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Tonks, Moody, and I'm Harry," he finished, gesturing to each of them in turn. Melly gave a tremulous little smile at them as they were introduced.
"Hi. Do you mind if I just...stay with you guys until I get to this erm..Warthogs school? I won't make much noise, really, and I'll stay out of your ways," she said quietly.
"Sure! We'd love for you to hang out with us," Hermione said, and Ginny nodded. Ron although, was still looking a bit dubious. Pig had flown up to converse with Hedwig, and Ron's hands were in his pockets.
"Come on you kids, best get on the train 'fore you miss it. Then its back home for you lot, I'll make you pick out the lawn gnomes and stun the pixies all year long if I can," Tonks urged. She was, today, an ugly blonde woman no older than twenty-five, and looked a lot like Petunia but for her unbefitting lavender robes. Her eyes were narrowed evilly, but her mouth was curved into a happy grin. Melly, somewhat afraid, scampered off to the giant, red Hogwarts Express, with the older group close behind.
As soon as they got on the train, although, they were met with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Harry froze, his expression turning unconsciously frosty and Ron put his hands in his pockets (for his wand) daring them to say something. Melly stood behind Hermione, confused (and flanked). Surprisingly, they said nothing, and passed by not even making any prolonged eye-contact.
"Who were they?" Melly asked when they were out of earshot.
"The resident goons, as they fancy themselves, I'd tell you to stay out of their ways if you can Melly," Ron advised as the stowed away their belongings in their customary compartment. Without looking back at her, he proceeded to free some kind of (obviously) dangerous creature from a side pouch of Harry's duffel bag.
"Neville says that his grandma saw the Malfoys over summer at the Ministry," Ginny began, sitting down and disinterestedly looking out at King's Cross, slowly passing away. "Why did you let that stupid thing out anyway?" she inquired rhetorically. It was only a tiny golden ball, with wings, Melly noted, but did not stop staring at it, as though bewitched.
"How do you know what Neville's saying?" Ron asked, also watching the progress of the Snitch, flitting round and round his sister's head.
"Oh grow up Ron, I can talk to whomever I want you know, and besides, do you really think Neville will seduce me or something?" Hermione snickered and Harry hastily hid a grin. The train gave a slight lurch, starting to move faster, and the frightened little ball scurried off in the blink of an eye. Melly grew bored of trying to spot it after a while, and even of the others talking of people who she did not know.
"Do you two go out?" Melly asked Ron, attempting to get in the loop. He looked horrified for a second, but was quick to recover.
"NO! She's my-my sister! Guh! Eww..."
"I'm sorry," Melly apologized, grabbing the window seat before Ron sat down so that he almost dropped on the floor. He caught himself and nimbly jumped forward next to his sister. Just as soon as Melly sat down, although, she jumped up. There was a loud bang and someone thrust their compartment door open. A short, slightly pudgy boy stormed in.
"Hey you guys, have you seen Trevor, by any chance? Malfoy seemed to think it was funny putting one of the Weasley sweets in his cage, and I suspect, knowing my luck, it was a Mind-Muddling Mint. I hope he didn't jump out the train window again." He slammed the compartment door shut, startling everyone a bit, and pushed through to the window seat that Melly was about to sit in.
"Melly, meet Neville Longbottom," said Ginny, whose hair was turning into a slightly more becoming strawberry blonde shade, as Melly grudgingly took the seat next to Neville and the train gave a final toot before jerking to a start.
"He's just not as...energetic as used to be," Neville grumbled in response, "I've tried telling him to be careful..."
"Hello Neville," came another voice not long after the train had exited the station. There was a feeble croak, and Luna Lovegood entered the already crowded compartment with Trevor, Neville's extremely old toad. "I found your pet," she said. Neville broke off from his narration to Melly about all the stupid things Malfoy had ever done to rush to his drugged pet. Melly glanced incredulously at Neville then back at the toad in Luna's hand. The saturnine looking girl smiled inquisitively at all of them, and her pensive eyes seemed to linger on Melly like she was asking for an introduction.
"This Trevor's a toad?!" Melly asked awed, fixing her eyes on Ginny. She nodded nonchalantly, looking at the subject under question, who was then struggling in Neville's hands as he cooed sickeningly to it.
"Er--Melly meet Luna Lovegood, Luna, Melly Andrews," Ginny said, glancing out of the window once again, popping a bubble on an old piece of Drooble's Best.
"Up for a game of Snap, anyone?" Hermione asked perkily, adjusting herself closer to Ron so that they could fit Luna in the compartment.
After Ginny'd won the first three games of Exploding Snap, and Melly the next two, Harry left the compartment under the guise of "using the privies". Ron and Hermione followed him with their eyes, worried, but Harry--possibly ignoring them--dazedly wandered off to find an empty compartment just to think about his forthcoming year, thoroughly irked by how unaffected his friends were of the circumstance. The Snitch followed him, though he swatted it away exasperatedly. He remained defiantly unaware of all six pairs of eyes suddenly focused on him, and even of the abrupt silence. He simply walked out, and despite Melly's curiousity, everyone else even turned back to the deck of cards as if nothing had happened.
Harry circumstance wasn't all that bad, in retrospect (or so he thought), just intense for him because he'd been living so long as a muggle, and he'd known almost nothing else. Now death, and sorcery, secrets, and betrayal were almost normal occurrences. He thought of Sirius Black, the nearest thing to a father he'd ever had, and Cedric, a dear, albeit not so near friend and contender. He thought about Wormtail. His blood boiled. He stopped thinking quite so much to calm his nerves lest he'd blow something up. He'd had enough of the Statute of Underage Wizardry to last him after almost being expelled the year before.
Devoid of anything else to do, Harry looked out of the window, reluctantly admitting that he really didn't see the need to sort out his mind as much as he thought he did. The commotion of his friends seemed much more appealing now than an oppressive silence. A silence which invited thoughts of his godfather almost like the tantalizing veil behind which he had disappeared. Like house-guests come to feed on his peace of mind rather than the burnt chicken, or the watery tea. Just then, Ron and Hermione barged in the compartment.
"Thank Merlin, I thought those youngens would never leave me alone!" Ron gushed. Harry looked away, unable to get over how transparently cheery he was acting. Like he needed their sympathy...
"You were once in their same shoes, Ron," Hermione reprimanded predictably. Harry smiled, glad that atleast one thing hadn't changed throughout the five years that he'd been in the wizard world. Ron wasn't so bad either.
"So. How's your summers been? I heard from Fred and George that you two were going out?" Harry said, anticipating the resolution of an affair that had caused much regret and jealousy during his insomniac contemplations. Ron and Hermione exchanged a nervous glance like they were consulting on how much detail to divulge.
The twins now owled him as much as (if not more than) Ron and Hermione, often including tokens of appreciation, or samples of product from their shop, or rarely, Daily Prophet excerpts of themselves (ads, showcase articles etc,) even though Harry received the newspaper at home himself. He felt a gleeful feeling bubbling within him, which Hermione mistakenly perceived to be a happier expression.
"Y-you mean...you're not angry?" Hermione asked, searching his face. Harry gave her a long, steady look.
"Oh, of course not. Just because I'm over here wallowing in denial, I don't expect the rest of you to stop enjoying life altogether," he said, visibly serious. He smiled, biting back the sarcasm from reflecting on his face, and Ron let out a suppressed breath, gladly emulating the action.
"We loved him too y'know?" whispered Hermione, like she genuinely cared, and Ron nodded in that way which previously had consoled him on every occasion but this one. He tried to contain his anger. "why the hell don't you act like it!" he considered yelling, but that would have been unfair. Harry stuck a fake smile on his face which was as good as if he had been practicing in front of the mirror. Which he had, as pathetic as it sounded.
"I know," he said to Hermione, turning to a small hole in the seat in front of him. After a silence, Hermione said:
"That's all in the past now anyway, because we broke up. I couldn't stop arguing with him," she sighed, "guess it wasn't meant to be at all," she said lightly. In complete contrast, Ron was looking openly distraught.
"I hope not because of me," Harry said, unsure of upsetting the already precarious mood of the compartment. He repressed the now familiar jealousy welling up inside him. Maybe their romance was deeper than he had been expecting. Maybe it would not be over in a week or two...All her letters had been addressed from the Burrow anyway...
"Of course not, Harry," Hermione replied airily, pointedly glaring at Ron for some reason which completely eluded him.
"So I hear the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is going well. And Skeeter's actually done a cover story in The Quibbler?"
"The magazine's very famous now. Especially with gossipy housewives across the wizarding community. It is a tabloid, after all. Rita's target market," Hermione supplied. "She's really happy getting all that attention, and lucky for us, without so much trouble."
"And Mum's been trying to solve the mystery of how Fred and George got enough money to rent that space in Diagon Alley," Ron said. Harry turned to the rip in the leather seat, now partially covered by Hermione's hand.
"I wouldn't put it past them to have done it legally," said Hermione, her tone predictably disapproving. Her nails were painted with pink polish, chipped off mostly, and completely gone on both of her thumbs.
"Well, they told me they heard something of the old Extendable Ears--which can resist mum's charms now, by the way--guess who's going to be Defense teacher this year!"
"Who?" asked Hermione, and Harry perked, curious.
"Guess!"
"Erm--" Harry began, but Ron cut him short impatiently.
"Don't tell anyone," he said, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, he glanced about looking for eavesdroppers, "It's Tonks!"
"What?!" Harry said, mirroring by speech the expression on Hermione's face.
"SHH! She's going to be undercover, of course, and get this, as a man--"
"But you can track things like that, can't you? Her abilities, I mean?"
"I don't think so, Harry. I did some research on it. Ironically enough, we're learning about Morphmagi in Transfiguration in seventh year, I took the liberty of buying our next book too," (Ron grimaced) "and it's this odd ability-- when a witch or wizard, or even muggles sometimes can distort their body's constitution to conform to anyone else's from even their vaguest memories," Hermione caught the glazed look in Ron's eyes, "Well, the point is, it can never be traced unless the person who he or she's imitating comes about and tattles or something. That can't happen, right?"
"No! Apparently, this man is really Tonks's dead boyfriend...she'd turned him into a kneazle when they'd had a row once, and he had a nasty run in with the gang of rabid dogs about the neighborhood." He grimaced.
At that precise moment, there was soft rap at the door, and Hermione stood to get it. It was the snack-lady with the trolley full of sweets. Harry and Ron realized that they were quite starved and emptied out their pockets, obviously intending to buy up all her stores. Of course, it'd had an Endless Enchantment on it ("Afinificus!"), as Hermione eagerly pointed out.
When they'd finished their pumpkin pasties and chocolate frogs, and snacked on an adequate amount of a number of other tooth-rotting candies, Ron and Harry chatted pointlessly about a great number of things. Hermione, on the other hand, continued to munch on hers, and then when she was out, Harry's sweets until nearly the end of the train ride. She explained that her parents (being dentists) had forbidden any candy in the house at all. Harry and Ron nodded supportively, then went back to discussing Quidditch.
Dinner was glorious, and quite happy externally, despite all the turmoil and politics of the outside world. It was in no means the same as always, although, for their till now unchanged and reliable Headmaster looked very weary. Albus Dumbledore seemed impenetrable, yet physically harried. It was as if he had suffered some sort of tribulation and emerged victorious, against the odds. His expression was defiant, although his speech was brief by tradition, consisting of the same routine announcements. Stay out of the Forbidden Forest, he'd said, and to enjoy the food. His blue-eyed gaze was fixed on Harry for a bit longer than usual, but no one but himself and the recipient noticed. The older students were somewhat miffed by the touched appearance of their teacher, who was supposedly untouchable. It was the only reason they were in school, because Dumbledore was untouchable, but the first and second years were unaffected by the change in the demeanor of...almost all the teachers at the Head Table.
Hermione and Ron were staring at each other when they thought that one of them weren't looking at the other, and Harry was persistently trying to be oblivious to the whole thing, offering the potatoes or chicken or the pepper to lure them out of there uncomfortable states. About halfway through the Feast, when he was quite near fed up and gave up the attempt, getting himself two more legs of chicken instead, he'd caught Ginny's understanding look from further down the table. He gave a small smile, trying to keep his eyes off her blond hair.
As people began to finish their meals, the prefects from the different houses stood up to lead the first years to their dormitories. There was a bitter look in Ron's eyes as if he were dreading this same occasion throughout the meal to be alone with Hermione. Harry promised to resolve the issue among them later, when Ginny approached him.
"Like the hair, I promise," Harry said, raising his hands defensively.
"It's ok, Harry," she laughed, "It's not permanent, it wears off in twenty-four hours." They began walking. "I've been putting up with Ron and Hermione's bickering almost all summer. You should just try to dodge all the owls flying in from every opening in the house when he's trying to ignore her."
"What happened anyway? They've been trying to hide everything from me like I was made of glass or something," Harry explained, unable to hide a slight hint of remorse.
"I think they really liked each other at first," she began as they walked out of the Great Hall toward the Gryffindor Tower, falling behind all the others headed the same way. "He asked her out right after she'd broken up with Krum. The long distance thing wasn't working. As a matter of fact I think you were over then. Downstairs with Bill and Charlie. Hermione rushed to find me and she couldn't shut up about him." Ginny glanced at Harry's slightly betrayed expression.
"I can't believe how deceitful they are. I mean, what else are they keeping from me, I thought I was their best friend, you know?" he told Ginny, so caught up in his anger that he was more candid than he'd meant to be. Ginny nodded, understanding, despite how childish it later sounded to him.
"I don't think she really liked him that much anyway, it was more that she was satisfied that he'd finally admitted his feelings. As cruel as that sounds. You know typical know-it-all Hermione, right?"
They'd slowed so that there were hardly any people at all in the hallway around them. A fifth year Gryffindor Prefect was walking hurriedly back from the direction of the Tower and Ginny stopped him.
"Hey Tony, you wouldn't happen to know the password by any chance, would you?"
"Of course I would Weasley, I'm Prefect for a reason you know," he said, pointing to his Badge and sticking out his tongue. "It's Belgarath the Eternal," he said, grinning suggestively, "Have a nice night, blondie." He waggled his eyebrows. Ginny grimaced.
"But she started liking him more and more, she even told me so," Ginny continued when Tony'd left, "but now she's just stopped. She'd been telling me everything, and all of a sudden, she's just retracted into this shell. She's so jumpy, and she doesn't even argue with Ron anymore, its weird."
Harry agreed, nodding. The thought of Ron and Hermione not arguing was strangely sad, though he would not in the least miss it.
"Personally, I think she misses Krum. Belgarath the Eternal," said Ginny, and the Portrait swung open. Before Harry could enter, however, there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to find the stern bespectacled face of McGonagall hovering over him. A sense of foreboding enveloped him, and he'd wondered what he'd possibly done, or forgotten to do this time.
"I'll catch up," said Ginny, waving him off.
Her office, which he'd seen on many occasions, was quite different this time around. It was...empty. But for a desk and chair in its usual position, the room was totally devoid of anything.
"I'm...moving to a more...airy room," she explained, walking around to take a seat and gesturing for Harry to do the same. He did, glancing warily at her face for any sign of what kind of trouble he was in.
"I'd like to discuss your O.W.L.s, Harry." McGonagall said. Harry shifted in his chair.
"They were really good, predictably," Harry's eyes widened, "now don't get ahead of yourself, I never said that you'd used all of your potential."
"But Professor, I've never really had the opportunity to concentrate on my academics with all the extra things going on what with--"
"Now, don't start that with me, young man." she reprimanded, "You and I both know perfectly well that you don't put nearly as much effort into your studies as you ought to. And I'm surprised at your remarkable laziness because under the influence of Miss Granger, I'd expect much much better from you."
"And your friend Ron, to a lesser extent," she added as an afterthought.
"But Professor, Hermione is really smart! She can remember anything, she--" he let the matter drop, noticing the steely look in his teacher's gray eyes.
"I'm sure you remember the Career Advice session last year, when you'd asked about the requirements of your own career choice; I assume you're still interested?"
Harry nodded, sitting up. "Of course, but Potions--"
McGonagall allowed a soft smile before continuing. "According to my score report here," she consulted the notepad in front of her, her glasses sliding down to the bridge of her nose, "You've Outstandings in Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology." Harry nodded. "Amazingly enough, Exceeds expectations in all of your classes but History of Magic, and Divination, which I don't give all that much importance to anyway," she glanced at him sternly, and Harry couldn't help but grin.
"But, Professor, you told me last year that Professor Snape doesn't accept Exceeds Expectations in his N.E.W.T.s levels, and I understand that that's a prerequisite for Auror training?"
"Yes, but Professor Snape holds a particular--prejudice towards you for reasons that are quite unbeknownst to me, so I think to compensate for the injustice, I will speak to him as Head of your House, on your behalf." Harry was momentarily stunned at the implied favoritism in that proposal. "But that by no chance means that I'm partial to you, Potter, if anything, this Potions class will only mean more commitment and hard work."
"Of course, Professor," Harry agreed.
"I also mentioned tutorials to get you into shape for N.E.W.T.s, and though I understand it would be the first thing you'd like to forget, I'm still willing to train you, but Harry--" her voice softened, "if you're serious about this, I'd strongly advise you to start taking your studies just a bit more, well, seriously." Harry nodded in compliance, barely taking it all in. McGonagall wanted to tutor him?
"There are also the Remedial Potions lessons that you must resume with dear Professor Snape," Harry was surprised to hear the wry humor in her tone and the slight smirk on her lips. "I want you to look over your schedule now, and take it with you, make all the necessary psychological adjustments." She was now being openly sarcastic, Harry thought unbelieving. He took the schedule she was holding out.
It was very tough. He had N.E.W.T level classes for Transfiguration, Defense, Charms, and Potions, and Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures on top of that. Occlumency lessons, tuition, and Quidditch atop classes, Harry thought he'd probably need a Time Turner to fit it all in. He was suddenly filled with a profound respect for Hermione managing her life and S.P.E.W. and even Ron. But atleast he no longer had Divination, or History of Magic, he thought, attempting to be positive. And as captain (he'd been euphoric when he heard from Dumbledore that Angelina'd appointed him)
"Call this a momentary weakness, Potter," McGonagall said, as he began to walk to the door, "But I have very high expectations of you. And a very strong belief that you'll rise to the standard. All of us do, to some extent, even Severus, though he's as ready to see you fail." Harry wondered of "all of us" included his teachers, or even Moody, and Arthur and Molly, and the others in the Order.
"I know you were looking forward to having Weasley in all of your classes, but I'm telling you now you're in for a disappointment. You may soon have to face the fact that you and Weasley were meant for different lifestyles. You are a highly talented wizard, Harry, and the Choice that You-Know-Who made, between you and Longbottom, I suspect, wasn't entirely his choice at all."
"Good luck," she said. Harry closed the door and walked all the way to the Dormitories in a daze, falling asleep just as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was never aware of the fact that all of the sixth year Gryffindor boys were in bed but Ron.