Disclaimer: I own nothing! This is all for entertainment only :)
First piece of fan fiction I've written in nearly six years!
CHAPTER 1
…The woman was staring at him…
Being stared at was not a state unknown to Harry Potter. In his thirteen years on the planet he had found that lots of people liked to stare at him. Not usually on the Hogwarts Express though.
Most of the students at Hogwarts had gotten used to him enough not to need to gaze at him all the time. Besides, after the whole Heir of Slytherin incident some of them were still a little wary of him.
"If you had managed to get that scraggy ball of fur in his cage quicker then we might have got our own compartment on the train," a loud voice cut into Harry's thoughts.
"Crookshanks is a very sensitive creature," a shrill, female voice replied.
"Harry, back me up," Ron nudged his friend back to reality, almost squashing him into the window in his zeal. "Tell Hermione that I meant scraggy ball of fur as a compliment."
Being neither a great fan of cats nor rats Harry didn't feel as though he had a great deal to offer the current conversation.
"Why does he always have to back you up…?" Hermione cut in archly. "Is it because I'm the only girl…?"
"Fine, let's change the subject," Ron conceded, which he usually found to be the best course of action with Hermione. "Harry, tell us again about how you made that old bag inflate," he snorted, the first rendition of the pinnacle of his friend's truly awful summer still fresh in his mind.
"It's not funny," Hermione snapped. "Harry, you could have been expelled."
"They're never going to expel him," Ron waved off her concerns casually. "He's far too good publicity for Hogwarts."
Harry winced. The Great Inflation of Aunt Marge had not been one of his finest moves. He had had many fantasies over the years about inflating members of the Dursley clan, but until that day he had always found the self restraint inside of him to not actually do it.
"Mate, she got you dog biscuits for Christmas one year. She's insane," his red-haired friend continued, in an attempt at solidarity.
Harry cringed. Ron had a lot of theories on the crazy/insane/batty qualities of women. It hadn't quite happened yet, but one of these days he was going to get himself into some serious trouble. In Harry's (albeit limited) experience, girls really didn't appreciate being called insane. Unfortunately, this tended to be the general theme of all of Ron's conversations about -and with- the fairer sex.
…The woman had ducked her head behind a seat and was now deep in conversation with the gaunt looking man next to her…
"You should be a little more sensitive," Hermione hectored.
Ron rolled his eyes. "What…?" "Now you're offended by me mentioning dog biscuits…?"
"All I'm saying, Ron, is that maybe Harry is a little too preoccupied with the whole 'Sirius Black issue' to sit here spewing hatred for my cat," Hermione hissed quietly.
This didn't really make much difference as Hermione's whispering voice was exactly the same as her normal speaking voice.
Harry was trying really hard not to think about Sirius Black. If he thought about it for too long he was pretty sure his head might explode. He found it very hard to believe that anything or anyone could be worse than Voldemort, but based on the picture in the Daily Prophet this Sirius Black person wasn't far off. He looked like he might be able to rip someone's head off without even needing to reach for his wand. For some reason Harry was clearly a magnet for the rage of deranged, psychotic wizards.
"I appreciate the concern guys, but I really don't want to talk about Sirius Black," he replied quickly, hoping to stamp out this conversation fast.
A green looking Neville Longbottom collapsed onto a nearby seat. "I don't suppose any of you have seen Trevor…?"
The three of them swallowed a groan. Neville's toad was (in) famous for its escape attempts. As generally nice people, whenever the amphibian version of Houdini attempted a jailbreak, they usually ended up having to help find it. (Mostly because Hermione made them.)
"Do you mind if I rest here for a little bit…?" Neville continued. "I feel a little bit queasy."
His travel sickness was legendary and went some way towards explaining his complete ineptitude with a broomstick. "So what are we talking about guys…?"
Ron perked up, realising he had a new audience for his 'Crookshanks is Evil' campaign.
"Neville, mate, have you met Hermione's cat…?"
…Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw the woman again. He shook his head hurriedly, trying to convince himself that the woman was simply a figment of his imagination. But no, there she was. And was she crying now…? She looked so familiar too…
"…and that's why rats make far better pets," Ron continued, waxing poetical. "Harry, stay with the programme."
"She's staring at me," Harry spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "That woman over there," he inclined his head over. "She's been staring at me for the past half hour."
"Who…? Who…?" Ron craned his neck up out of his seat.
Harry groaned. "Nice one Ron, that won't attract attention at all."
"Her with the dark hair…?" He squinted comically.
Harry nodded slowly, slightly regretting involving his friend in this.
"Oh, oh, maybe she's a deranged fan…?" Ron piped up excitedly.
Harry stifled a chuckle. Ron always got far too over-excited at the prospect of him having a fan club.
"Don't knock it," Ron scowled. "What about that Colin Creepy kid last year…?"
"Colin Creevey," Hermione corrected over-dramatically, finally joining the conversation once she had an opportunity to correct Ron about something.
"Which woman…?" Hermione inquired, sitting up straighter but being markedly more subtle about it than Ron.
"She's got crazy eyes," the unsubtle one continued on blithely. "You can always tell the ones who do."
Hermione shot Ron a glare. "Crazy Eyes – as you so eloquently put it – is our new Charms Professor."
"How the hell did you know that…?" Ron grunted. "Were you on the hiring committee…? Does Dumbledore send you an owl every time he makes a staffing change…?"
"What happened to Professor Flitwick…?" Harry frowned, attempting to change the subject before the conversation turned into another one of Ron and Hermione's all out verbal wars.
"Yeah, I liked him," Ron kicked his feet up onto the table dejectedly.
"I don't think I want to tell you now," Hermione huffed. The boys just didn't appreciate her unique brand of bossy gossip. She made a mental note to try and find more female companions this term.
Harry grinned at her. "Yes you do."
She leaned into the group conspiratorially. "So, get this…"
"Raisa, for the love of God stop staring at the boy," Remus implored.
Raisa Ramsey wrinkled her nose. "I'm not staring at him – I just haven't seen him in a really long time."
"I know," Remus exhaled. "I know it's hard, but you need to remember what Dumbledore said."
Raisa frowned. Dumbledore said a lot of things, most of them incomprehensibly circular anecdotes or related to how much he enjoyed eating sherbet lemons.
On this occasion, the general gist of his words had been something to do with not terrifying the living daylights out of Harry.
"It's going to be strange being back, isn't it…?" She mused softly.
Remus sighed. Being at Hogwarts without his three best friends was going to feel wrong on so many different levels. Although if the Daily Prophet was to be believed, one of his best friends would be joining them very soon to hunt down and kill Harry Potter. You had to laugh at the things journalists came up with - the last part, anyway. The first bit would probably turn out to be eerily prescient.
"Sirius wouldn't be stupid enough to come here, would he…?" Raisa murmured, echoing her husband's thoughts.
Remus froze momentarily. Should he be honest or humour his wife…? "Of course not, he wouldn't…"
This was a lie. Sirius Black was absolutely stupid and pig-headed enough to come sniffing around Hogwarts. The third person in his marriage had an uncanny knack of being ever present without actually being there.
He loved his wife more than anything. He loved Sirius too. But the fact that he had married Raisa felt like he'd stolen something from Sirius.
"If he comes anywhere near here he'll get himself sent back to Azkaban," Raisa continued worriedly.
Quite honestly Remus thought that Padfoot might fancy his chances against a band of soul-crushing Dementors. He'd probably consider it light entertainment before breaking into Hogwarts.
What Remus was really keen to avoid was Sirius fancying his chances with his wife.
"Do you think anyone has told Harry about him…?" Raisa questioned.
Remus sincerely hoped not. There were some things a thirteen year old boy really didn't need to know. That his godfather had been in Azkaban for allegedly murdering his parents was pretty close to top of this list.
"He's still a child, sweetheart," he replied softly. "There are a whole lot of things he's not ready to know about quite yet."
Raisa nodded slowly. Presumably she was one of those 'things'.
A plump looking boy wandered towards them. "My name's Neville and I'm looking for my toad," he announced falteringly.
"Longbottom…?" His wife's eyes perked up. "Frank and Alice's son..?"
The boy turned a little pale and started to back away. "Err… But I'm going to go now because I don't think he's here here. Bye."
"Raisa…" said Remus gently. "You can't go around telling every single student all about how you knew their mother or father."
"I don't want to," pouted Raisa petulantly. "Just Harry,"
"But Dumbledore said…," he continued.
To Raisa's eyes 'because Dumbledore said so' really wasn't that compelling a reason.
Remus contemplated using 'because I said so' as a reason, but he wasn't sure he could stand it if she didn't take any notice.
"Sorry, I'm just a little nervous." Raisa took his hand in hers. And once again any negative points of his marriage vanished from Remus' mind. "All the same, as a responsible teacher I should probably help him look for his toad." She stood up with what she supposed to be a teacherly flourish.
Remus reached into his pocket for a half eaten bar of chocolate. This was going to be a long term.
It was starting again. Usually trouble at least had the decency to wait until a few weeks into term to surface. But no, apparently Harry was no longer even able to enjoy a train ride without it finding him.
Neville had departed to search for his toad. Although, as Ron succinctly put it, what toad would want to be stuck in Neville Longbottom's pocket for the rest of it's life…? And then everything had gone black.
…It was like being stuck inside a big, dark freezer after being knocked out with a beaters bat and-…
"Harry…!" "Mate, wake up…!"
Harry let out a croak and tried to clear his throat. "Who just slapped me…?"
A slightly guilty looking Ron stuck his hands behind his back and pointed accusingly at an ashen Hermione.
"What was that…?" Harry spluttered, sitting up slowly.
"Dementors," the gaunt, pale man announced, breathing deeply. "Although what they're doing on this train I have no idea."
He thrust a small, foil-covered rectangle into Harry's hand. "Here, have some chocolate. It will help."
"Er, thank you..." Harry hesitated, waiting for the man to confirm who he actually was.
"Professor Lupin," he confirmed with a tight nod in greeting. "The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."
"Remus…? Remus…?" At that moment the dark-haired woman came careening down the carriage, her face a picture of frantic horror. "What the hell happened-?"
She stopped short on catching sight of Harry and seemed to sway slightly for a second.
The man apparently called Remus pulled the woman into his side. "This is Professor Ramsey," he announced, grimacing slightly as the woman started to sniff forlornly into the shoulder of his jacket. "The new Charms Professor at Hogwarts and my wife…
The now introduced Professor Ramsey let out a girlish titter.
"Pull yourself together," Remus hissed into her ear, feeling very proud at how professional he'd managed to stay. "You'll scare him."
"The Dementors did that well before me," she muttered petulantly. She cleared her throat. "It's so nice to finally …meet… you Harry." She made to pull him into a hug and then thought better of it.
"So the missus is a big fan of Harry?" Ron asked conversationally. "She should have a word with Colin Creevey. I think he's the current President of Harry's fan club. If you join at start of term I think you get a - Owww! Bloody hell Hermione, why did you just kick me...? "