Welcome ... home?

From the beginning of their journey until the end things only kept getting worse.

Harry, Hermione and Ron had managed to find an empty compartment in the middle of the train and were just about to levitate their trunks on the luggage rack when the door slipped open.
Hannah stood there; face blank and thin strands of blonde hair framing her face.
"Hi" she said, not being able to think of anything better to say. What exactly do people say, when they meet each other for the first time after a war? No one had prepared them for this scenario. The other three acknowledged her presence by offering her a polite nod. Hermione even gave her a kind smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The blonde took this as permission and entered the compartment, lifting her trunk on the rack and then trying (and failing) to blend in with her surroundings and turn invisible on her seat.

Hermione and Ron chose to sit down near the window – or rather, Ron sat down on the seat and Hermione sat on his lap. Their bodies seemed to intertwine with each other into one. The gesture had a desperate air about it - as if they feared to be separated, as if neither of them would survive one second without his counterpart. Hannah quickly averted her gaze. She was not embarrassed to see them both together - by all means, she was glad that their relationship seemed to have gotten stronger after the war - no, her problem was that the sight of their happiness pained her young heart, for she knew her love would never be returned by him. She had tried several times to approach him, inviting him for a Hogsmeade trip, a walk around the lake, but he had never returned her feelings. It was painful, and that was putting it mildly. She wanted to forget about him and move on, but as with all the other worries that burdened her mind at the moment, she did not know how.
Her gaze shifted towards the other young man, their Saviour, sitting next to the window on her left. A strangely vacant expression ghosted over his face. Hannah felt another sharp pang to her heart. For God's sake, if she continued this way, she would die of a heart attack!

Unfortunately, she was still very much aware of why she felt so guilty towards him. Back in their fourth year she had, of course, supported Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament. Like the majority of the school, she had reproached Harry for stealing Hufflepuff's glorious moment and trying to get everyone's attention. She clearly remembered the day when she and some fellow housemates had blocked Harry's way and called him atrocious names, teasing him.
He had looked so broken back then...
She had never managed (or rather her courage had never been enough) to apologise to him. Would he even care to hear it after such a long time? She knew that her heart would definitely feel lighter afterwards.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips - she just did not have the energy left to change her situation at the moment, let alone in the foreseeable future.
Hermione and Ron were having a whispered conversation, while Harry and Hannah contributed their silence. No words escaped their mouths, but in their minds they could hear the screams, the explosions, the desperate cries : the sounds of war.

Hannah hardly registered any movement, really; neither when the train departed, nor when their compartment door slipped open. She realized that something had changed when a puffy noise reached her ears. Lazily she lifted her eyes to see what the source of this annoying sound was. The sight left her flabbergasted.
The young man standing at the door somehow looked like Neville Longbottom, but at the same time he was so different. He had not simply gained weight; it was as if he had been hit by an engorgement charm. His body was three times as wide as before, his cheeks resembled ripe apples, red and shiny, while his eyes almost vanished behind heavy eyelids. The simple activity of walking down the train towards their compartment seemed to have cut his breath short, sweat decorated his front and his robes hung down his left shoulder.

His rather dramatic appearance had not gone unnoticed by the others.
"N – Neville?" Hermione sputtered. She, too, seemed to find it difficult to believe her eyes. She even leant away from Ron to have a closer look at the young man. Ron's mouth hung open in a silent "o" while his brain tried to decide which remark would be the best one to describe this situation.
"Bloody hell!" there it was.
Everyone in the compartment seemed to have received a surge of energy and Neville found four pairs of eyes staring at him intently.
"Hey guys" Neville greeted them brightly and tried to walk through the compartment door. The door, however, was not ready for his 'circumference' and he bumped off the frames like a rubber ball.

"Hmpf", he grunted and looked at the door in surprise. Hannah actually felt a spark of amusement flickering insider her. She observed how his face contorted itself in concentration and he turned his body to walk sideways - like a crab - two large arms sticking out at each end, holding his breath. The blonde could have sworn that there was a light 'plop' audible when he had made it through the door. The rubber ball stumbled a few steps further into the compartment and everyone had to press themselves further into their seats if they wanted to avoid being squashed by him.

"Whoops, sorry" he said with a sheepish grin and giggled while trying to place his body in a comfortable way on the remaining seat. Hannah had the urge to rub her eyes and ask someone to pinch her. Was this really Neville? How did he turn into this …. this …. marshmallow? And was he happy ?!
Neville looked at them with shiny eyes. He seemed oblivious to the terror that was evident on their faces, seemed to live in his own imaginary world.
"Great to be back, isn't it?" he grinned and tapped his stomach with stubby fingers. None of them honestly had recovered yet to manage an answer. He did not seem to mind this though, as he continued to drum his little sticks on his belly and hummed an incoherent tune with it.
Hannah slowly felt dread rising up inside. What on earth did he do to himself?

••••

Anyone who walked past the compartments of the Hogwarts Express would meet utter chaos and commotion on their way. Students of all ages were running up and down, chattering, laughing, playing Exploding Snap or sharing Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and trading Chocolate Frog Cards.
Only two compartments in the whole train were dominated by a heavy silence and troubled minds. We are already familiar with the first compartment – the other one was occupied by three Slytherins. Draco, Blaise and Theodore.

The air here was heavy with electricity, unspoken threats and hostility. Draco and Blaise had taken possession of the seats on one side; Theodore had been left on the other side. The hostility and the silent threats were obviously directed at the last one. The Malfoy heir and his best friend pointedly avoided any eye contact with Theodore and preferred to stare out of the window at the now moving landscape. Now and then they would talk to each other in a low whisper, seemingly exchanging very private thoughts.

Theodore did not even try to talk to them. He had so on the platform, but their silence had been a clear enough message to him. He would let them have it for now; after all, they had to get over it some time. If not, he would find a way to push them into talking to him again; even if it meant provoking them into it. He knew how to be patient; he was a snake after all.

••••

The train came to a stop. Outside the compartment door they could see students with eager faces making their way towards the exits, pushing and shoving each other. Only when the last student had passed their compartment door did the three statues slowly come to live and stepped outside onto the platform. There was not a soul there except from…
"Merlin's Beard!" Draco exclaimed when his eyes fell on Harry, Hermione, Ron, a Hufflepuff girl, whose name he had forgotten, and what looked like a human Quaffle. There was hardly another word for this apparition. His fellow Slytherins curiously followed his gaze and both took in a sharp breath at the sight. What on earth was that? Did that oaf of a groundkeeper let loose one of his atrocious creatures again?

The little (well, not very little) group of five started to walk towards them. The Golden Boy was leading them and hardly took note of the three young men as they passed them.
"Scarhead" Malfoy sneered. He couldn't hold himself back. "Did you bring a new familiar with you? Owls do get boring after a while.." he drawled on.
"Oh shut up", the Mudblood huffed and hastened her step, slightly pulling Ron with her who had just opened his mouth to retort.
Neville, however, did not seem perturbed in the slightest.

"Oy, Draco", he yelled and waddled over. The three of them instinctively leaned back as Neville's impressive 'circumstance' invaded their private space.
"What's up?" he lifted one meaty hand and smacked Draco on the shoulder which sent him bumping into Blaise.
Draco's sneer fell off his face immediately and was replaced by utter bewilderment as the identity of the Quaffel dawned on him.
"Longbottom?"
"See you up there", Neville jerked his head awkwardly towards where the castle was and set off after the others. The three of them exchanged wary looks. None of them commented on what had just happened and they made their way to the waiting carriages. The dark Thestrals waiting there did not really help lightening their mood.
The last two carriages slowly moved up the hill towards the castle.

The castle.
Almost 80 percent of its walls had been destroyed during the battle. Now, however, it just looked as impressive and unscathed as it had when they had first laid eyes on it.
Draco and Blaise exchanged a dark look – there was a deep understanding going on between them of what the other was feeling right now. Theodore just looked at the castle with mild curiosity, not being haunted by dark memories at all.

Their carriage came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs of the entrance. The other five young wizards and witches had also climbed out of their carriage and were now standing at the foot of the stairs. All eight of them stood there in a line – one next to the other – unaware of how eight hearts grew heavy, unaware of how eight people struggled to breathe regularly. They all took one steadying breath and started to climb the stairs.

••••

Warm air surrounded them as soon as they stepped into the Entrance Hall. A bit further away they could see a group of first years huddled together. How small and young they looked. In front of them stood their old Herbology teacher, Professor Sprout, and gave the same little speech they had been given back then. What would they give to spend just an hour or two as a careless first year, stomach heavy with worry about where the hat would place them and excitement bubbling with the prospect of learning magic. If there was one thing they all would agree on, then it was the fact that they had nothing to look forward to here.

Instinctively, they had split up in two groups again - Gryffindors and Hufflepuff on one side - Slytherins on the other. They exchanged wary looks. What now? Should they just walk into the Great Hall and join the rest of the school for the feast? Would they go back to their old dormitories?
As if she had sensed that her presence was needed, Professor McGonagall appeared at the doors to the Great Hall and walked towards them. Her demeanour did not seem to have changed the slightest since their last encounter. She still had a rather stiff composure and was wearing her hair in her usual bun, square glasses framing intelligent and observant eyes.

"Ah welcome" she began and spread her arms to underline her words.
"It is a great pleasure to-" both her hands flew up to her chest and covered her heart.
"Mr Longbottom!" she exclaimed, and again all eyes fell on the poor boy who had been standing behind the others, still largely visible.
"Good evening, Professor" he cheered and tried to give her a wave, but it rather looked like an uncontrolled wobble. The professor was clearly struggling to regain her composure and it took her a few seconds and several openings and closings of her mouth until she was successful.
"Well, I - welcome back to Hogwarts" she stated and managed to avert her eyes from this unexpected view.
"I am very pleased to see you all back here, keen on finishing your education. There have been a few arrangements made to accommodate the eighth years in their own dormitories. You will not join the dormitory of your houses."

The faces of her students showed a mixture of relief and anticipation. Relief, for they would not have to come too close to other curious students and their unwelcome questions - anticipation, because this meant they'd have to share it with certain Slytherins and Gryffindors.
Oblivious of their inner emotional turmoil, McGonagall carried on.

"As for dinner, you can choose whether you'd like to join the other students in the Great Hall or if you prefer having your food brought to your common room and eat there. I understand that coming back is rather difficult and a bit more quiet might be appreciated?" she raised an inquisitive eyebrow, looking at each one of them in turn. They all nodded in agreement and the witch clapped her hands once.
A house elf appeared to her right with a loud 'pop'. They all flinched violently at the sound and drew their wands in unison to face any imminent danger.

"My apologies" the professor inclined her head. "I should have warned you beforehand".
She turned to the little creature that had been patiently waiting at her side for instructions. "Please prepare dinner to be sent into the eighth year common room".
The little elf nodded enthusiastically, its long ears moving along, and apparated away. This time the students were ready for it and no one flinched. They quickly put their wands back under their robes and looked at the witch expectantly.
"Now, please, follow me"

Professor McGonagall turned and headed towards the Great Staircase. They dutifully followed, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Hannah and Neville in front; Draco, Blaise and Theodore behind them.
They had to climb two staircases, and then turn to the right, walk past their Charms classroom until McGonagall finally came to a halt in front of a portrait. It pictured a woman and a man, both sitting at a table, each enjoying a goblet of wine.
"Ah Minerva" the man croaked and swung his goblet around; he had obviously enjoyed the wine very much so far "'ave our lil ducklins arrive'?"
The woman to his left eyed them curiously over her goblet.
"I would not exactly describe them as ducklings" McGonagall answered drily and added, "Temet nosce"
They could hear a light sigh of exasperation and amusement coming from Neville's direction. The two lifted their goblets "Hea', hea'" and the portrait swung back.
McGonagall climbed in; eight students at her heels.

••••

This common room did not look like a common room at all.
On the opposite wall of the portrait they found a row of large windows with a view onto the dark forest. The floor was completely covered in a beige coloured carpet; little blotches of red, green, orange and blue were spread all over. There were two tables to their left with four chairs each. The wood was dark and shone from all the polish it had been treated with. Two vases with wild flowers were set up in the centre of each table.
On their right they could see a low fire crackling lazily in the stony fire place. An ensemble of couches and armchairs were set up around it. They all were a dark brown. Beige cushions completed the picture.
Along the wall behind their back hung a large picture of Hogwarts. It showed the castle at night, slightly touched by a soft moon light. Little yellow lights shone from the castle walls. All eight of them were staring at the picture as if in trance.

"Chm" McGonagall delicately cleared her throat to capture their attention.
"This will be your common room for the remaining school year. We tried not to favour any elements of the four houses, so as to offer you a neutral ground."
She waved her hand to indicate the beige, brown environment.
"You will find the girl's room on your right hand side, the boys will be occupying two rooms on the left hand side"
They saw two dark staircases winding up to the upper floor at the respective ends of the room.
"Now, I will leave you to unpacking your belongings and making yourself fell at home again" she gave them a hint of a smile.
"Your food should arrive any minute"
She swiftly made her way back to the portrait hole.

"And Mr Longbottom" she added in a low whisper so only he could hear "I wish that you pay a visit to Madam Pomfrey. Preferably tonight"
She gave him a pointed look. Neville simply beamed at her.
"Yes, will do"
Her eyebrows rose up but she did not reply. As soon as the portrait swung close, they all started shouting.

"This is ugly as shit-"
"Beige -, is this even a colour-"
"The dungeons were much better-"
"Neutral, ha! This is sterile-"
"How should this feel like home-"
"Bullshit, red is a primary colour-",
"Better kill myself right now-"
"We won't have green bed sheets anymore-"

They all turned to Blaise, incredulous expressions on their faces.
"What?" he snarled and narrowed his eyes.
Harry just shook his head.
"Ron, Neville, let's go unpack" he turned his back to this horrific version of a common room and climbed the small stairs on his left. Ron snickered at Blaise's comment, took his time saying goodnight to Hermione and followed. Neville happily swayed after him, having already forgotten about visiting Madame Pomfrey.
Hannah followed Hermione up the staircase to the girl's room on the right side.
"How long will it take" Draco murmured darkly "until we blow each other up?"

A/N : I swear it was not planned to make this chapter so long! I hope you don't find it too heavy and packed.
Anyway, feedback in all forms and shapes would be more than welcome :)
Since English is not my mothertongue, I do hope you forgive me if there are expressions or words that I used incorrectly - I gladly accept corrections.
I hope you find this story worthwhile!