.
Part 1: Him, Himself & Hermione
Episode IV
Thankfully, Ron had managed to catch Scabbers just before he jumped into the sewage system, and while getting Houdini the Second a bit of rat tonic he was given plenty of time to argue with Hermione over Crookshanks; Harry just tried to tune them out and act like he wasn't actually their friend and merely another bystander who came by at the wrong place at the wrong time.
("That blasted cat of yours nearly plucked my eyes out!" Ron had thundered, looking absolutely furious, as they were exiting the Magical Menagerie, rat-tonic in hand.
Hermione shot the redhead a pitying look, then, one so belittling Harry was almost convinced that Ron really was that much of an idiot. "Honestly, Ronald," She'd said, "With a mother as hawk-eyed as yours you really should have gotten better eyes – Scabbers clearly challenged Crookshanks –"
"How? BY BEING IN THE SAME BLOODY ROOM?")
From the passers-by's sympathetic glances, however, his plot didn't seem to work out too well.
When Harry, Hermione, and a red-eared Ron finally did make it back to the Leaky Cauldron, their argument having petered out along the way when Harry finally got fed up with it and threatened to tell Mrs. Weasley how immature they were being, they found Mr. Weasley sitting there, reading the Prophet. His eyes glanced up from his paper when they entered, but they stayed glued at Harry's face, peeking out from behind his long bangs. He looked baffled. "Wait, Harry?"
Harry chuckled uncomfortably at his incredulous tone, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. He had no way of knowing how Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would react to his new look in all its even messier-than-was-usual-ness, but – he glanced at Hermione – if it didn't look that bad, they couldn't be that mad either, could they? "Morning, Mr. Weasley."
"Merlin, it's really you, isn't it?" Arthur chuckled, sounding slightly disbelieving, before he grinned. "My word, you've changed a lot this summer! Had a good one?"
Harry's tight shoulders relaxed at Mr. Weasley's comfortable tone – though why he'd even worried, he didn't know – and he slid into the stool next to him with a nod. "Course I did. Tom took great care of me." He shot a grin at the balding barkeep, who handed Harry his usual Butterbeer without even asking, shooting the teen a wink.
"I heard about what happened with your Aunt through the Ministry." Mr. Weasley mentioned, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I – well, I suppose you found your way around the Alley, then?"
"Yes," Harry shrugged, glancing around to realise that Ron and Hermione had moved off to sit with their respective pets at a nearby table, and were glaring at each other, undoubtedly insulting each other under their breath as they did. Wonderful. "My relations weren't really approving of magic since they first learnt about it," and wasn't that the understatement of the century, "so they were probably happy to leave me be over here. I certainly don't mind."
"No, well, I suppose you wouldn't." Arthur smiled, looking even more uncomfortable now. Harry chided himself for bringing up Vernon and Petunia like that, but – well, there really wasn't anything he could do about it now. "Did you get what you needed?" He twisted around to direct this question at Ron, who blinked away his glare and stared back innocently.
"…Maybe?" He tried, and Mr. Weasley frowned at him. Ron hastened to explain. "I mean, Hermione kind of did my book-shopping for me. She just grabbed two of every book she took. I haven't actually, you know, looked through them." Now Harry and Hermione both looked contrite with him – Hermione even more than she already did, though how she managed that, Harry didn't know – and he quickly added, "But I'm sure she's done a great job! Really."
"I suppose." Mr. Weasley still looked uncertain, but before he could continue, but a flash of bright red caught their eyes, and as one, they turned to look; Mrs. Weasley had just stepped through the door, laden with dozens of shopping bags, with a gaggle of Weasleys filing in through the door behind her like little red-feathered ducklings. They all came over to Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny gave him a peck on the cheek each, while Percy shook his hand pompously, nodding and greeting with "Father." as his Head Boy badge shone brightly in the artificial lighting; Fred and George stayed behind, whispering like they were planning a big prank which, knowing them, they probably were, but still spared a moment to give their father a wave.
"Had fun, dear?" Arthur asked, smiling fondly at his wife, before blinking like he'd forgotten something. "Oh, and guess who I just ran into?" He motioned to his side, where Harry had raised a hand in an awkward sort of wave. Mr. Weasley beamed. "Harry's here, too!"
There was a second of stunned silence, before Molly ran forwards and hugged Harry tightly, blabbering nonsense about looking good and finally having eaten well. Fred and George were sniggering at Harry's misfortune, and waved merrily when he looked over their mother's shoulder for help. Percy was looking on disapprovingly, like he did with just about everything anyone did, and Ginny was giggling behind her hand, not even spotting Harry when he looked at her for help instead.
"Mum? You're strangling him. I think he's dying." Eventually, Ron came to Harry's rescue, and Harry shot him a grateful look over his mother's shoulder. Molly finally released Harry from her hug, and looked him over worriedly when he started gasping for air.
"Oh dear. Should I take him to St. Mungo's?"
Harry quickly shook his head quickly. "No need for that, Mrs. Weasley. I'm fine." He quickly turned the other way to take another heavy breath, before turning back to the utterly unconvinced Weasleys. "Really."
"Well, if you're sure…" Molly still looked worried, not to mention guilty, but Tom quickly jumped in before she could forcibly start dragging Harry to the Floo.
"He's been through worse than that this summer, Molly." Tom chuckled, leaning on the bar. "You should've seen him when he arrived here. The Knight bus might be efficient, but it's not the most comfortable thing in the world."
A chorus of amused snorts and smirks suddenly winked into existence around Harry, and he scowled. "Hey, you try finding a valid means of transportation as an underage Wizard stuck in the Muggle World without access to the Floo network. I didn't really have a choice, now did I?" This only made the smirks and grins grow, and Fred was about to say something when Molly crashed their jolly little party.
"Settle down, boys, Ginny." Molly frowned at them, and everyone quickly shut up at her stern tone, suitably cowed. "We don't want to disturb everyone else in here, do we? Especially seeing how we're still going to eat." She turned to Harry and, suddenly sounding kind, asked, "Would you like to join us, dear? There's more than enough. Hermione already agreed."
"Gladly." If the promise of spending more time with the Weasleys and Hermione hadn't managed to convince him, the free food certainly did, and soon, the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry were seated comfortably around a massive table in one of the Leaky's larger parlours.
Inevitably, the conversation turned to the summer vacation, and Harry snorted at them. "Well, if you think this'll be a short story, then you're in for quite the wait. But I suppose it all started a day before Aunt Marge was going to arrive, on the thirty-first…"
Oo0oO
And so, they were told about Harry's summer. He told the full tale, too, including the entire debacle of Black apparently being after his hide – though he left out the exact reason, because that was a tad bit too personal to share with Percy, or even Ginny and the Twins, and true to his expectations, they looked suitably unconvinced, though judging by George's thoughtful expression he suspected something was going on that he wasn't privy to – and his magnificent Escape from Durzkaban.
Unfortunately, Harry's story took up most of the dinner, and it wasn't until the start of dessert that they broached a new subject – namely, how they were getting to King's Cross the next day.
Arthur grimaced. "Well, that kind-of ties in with Harry's tale. We're going to the station with a couple of cars the Ministry has sent us –"
He was immediately interrupted by a surprised "Why?" from a baffled Percy, as the rest of the children around the table gaped at him – the Ministry cars were used extremely rarely, only in special situations, such as a foreign Minister for Magic coming to visit, or at a large international event, such as a Quidditch World Cup, for VIPs. Not for just anyone wishing to take a ride, national celebrity and entourage or not.
Harry, however, knew why; it was because of him, and Black. Nothing safer than the Ministry, right? Well, not really, but that's what everyone that worked there seemed to think. Sending Ministry cars would just draw more attention to them, as they dated back to the first World War, and looked more like museum pieces than actual working transport.
"…realize how much luggage you've all got between you?" Mrs. Weasley was saying as Harry tuned back into the conversation. "A nice sight you'd be on the muggle Underground… you're all packed, aren't you?" She was looking at Harry, and he nodded.
"Only the stuff I need tonight's left – including Hedwig's perch, and the rest of her stuff."
"What about the rest of you?" Molly looked in particular at Ron, who went to nod together with the rest of the children, mouth overflowing with sundae, but Percy interrupted with a sigh.
"He's dumped all of his new stuff on my bed. I can't even sit down anymore, let alone lay down to sleep." He glared at his younger brother, who finally swallowed his sundae and glared right back.
"You'd better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning." Mrs. Weasley called down the table, and Ron's glare morphed into a scowl, which, unfortunately for him, went completely ignored.
Oo0oO
Unfortunately, Ron and Percy had the room next to Harry's, number Nine. Normally he wouldn't have minded in the least, but they were arguing – and loudly at that – which made it rather hard to read, or sleep. Use of silencing charms was strictly forbidden by Tom for reasons he didn't seem to willing to share, so he had to set out himself and settle them down the old way.
"What's going on, Ron?" He asked sleepily, rubbing the blur out of one of his eyes, and Percy turned to scowl at him.
"Ron's gone and lost my Head Boy badge." He sneered down at his little brother, who was clearly fighting the urge to strangle him – rather like Harry himself, really.
"Go ask Mr. or Mrs. Weasley to summon it for you." He sighed at their surprised faces. "Or keep searching uselessly if you want to, just don't make so much noise." Harry dismissed, turning around to trudge back to his room. "Is common sense really that far out of reach these days?"
The question was directed at the heavens up above, but through the thin walls of his room he could distinctly hear Hermione's giggles, evidently having overheard their conversation, and despite how tired he was, he still smiled fondly at the sound – like a friend would and nothing else, so if his mind would please stop questioning him, that would be much appreciated, thanks.
Fred and George, sniggering away down the hall as they screwed with Percy's 'Bighead Boy' badge and heard Percy dismantle his and Ron's room, suddenly stopped and stared as it was tugged straight out of their hands by an invisible and suddenly flew down the hall, straight into Percy's hand; their older brother took one look at it, shrieked, and staggered back into his room like he was going to faint.
Then, they shared a glance, and laughed.
Oo0oO
It was the next morning, nearing eleven o'clock. In typical Weasley fashion, there was a ton of last-minute packing to do, and if that was partly Fred and George's fault for nearly shocking the Head Boy to death, then they weren't going to speak up about it; not to mention Ron's missing Rat Tonic, which had somehow found its way under the bar, and Percy's badge suddenly reading something quite different that, despite Arthur's best attempts, always came back a barely half a minute later. Nevertheless, they were able to enter the ancient wind-up cars at around half past ten, and, with a lot of fanfare, arrived at King's Cross fifteen minutes later.
Harry had been crammed into a car with Hermione, which was great, and Crookshanks, which was not so great. The ginger cat had been spitting through the wickerwork of his basket for the entire ride, despite Hermione's continued attempts at calming the animal down. Once they'd finally stopped driving, the Ministry employees unloaded their baggage for them – almost grievously injuring the hand of the unfortunate Witch that got to handle Crookshanks – and, completely ignoring the photographing Muggles, drove away with a silent wave to Arthur.
Upon entering Platform nine-and-three-quarters, Percy immediately went off to find his girlfriend, a Ravenclaw named Penelope Clearwater, with his chest puffed out and his badge – which was, unknown to him, reading Bighead Boy again – shining proudly. Everyone laughed silently at him, with the exception of Mrs. Weasley, who was busy whacking her children and husband over the head; but Harry could spy a small, amused smile on her face, so the deflation of Percy's big head apparently wasn't too unwelcome even to the usually overbearing mother hen.
When Harry and Ron were done stowing their and Hermione's stuff into the luggage rack, Crookshanks and Hedwig's cage included – Hedwig was flying ahead of the train – they went back outside, where Mrs. Weasley was handing everyone their lunch.
"Here you are, Fred – Percy, come back here – there you are, and you too, Penelope –"
"You really shouldn't have, Mrs. Weasley –" Penelope protested, blushing slightly as she accepted the package.
"Nonsense." Molly brushed her off, smiling kindly. "You're family now, even if you two break up later –"
"Mum!" Percy protested, blushing just as much as his girlfriend.
"Well, nevertheless – Ron, this is yours – George – Hermione, I know you don't really like bacon, so an egg sandwich for you –"
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione smiled gratefully, and Molly winked.
"Don't tell Ron. He'll probably try to take them from you."
Ron blinked at the mention of his name, and looked up from where he was already attempting to peel back the wrapping to take a peek at the food inside. He wasn't making much progress. "What? Egg?"
Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperated amusement, and Molly smiled at her youngest son. "Never you mind, Ron." Ron blinked again, shrugged, and went back to his unsuccessful unwrapping. "And this is Harry's – Harry? Harry? Ron, where's Harry gone?"
"Hmm? Oh, he ran off with dad, over there." Ron shrugged, motioning to one of the pillars supporting the roof. "They're already heading back over, see?"
Oo0oO
"Here you are – Fred – Percy, come back here –"
"Harry?" Arthur said quietly, drawing Harry's attention to where he stood, a few steps behind him. "Come here for a moment." He jerked his head to a nearby pillar, and Harry, quite confused, followed him behind it quietly. "There's something I have to tell you before you leave – about Black –"
"I already know, Mr. Weasley." Harry interrupted, and Arthur blinked. "He's out for me, that much was all over the papers the entire month, but the Minister – he told me something else, during our talk the night that I came to Diagon. He told me –" Harry sighed. "Mr. Weasley, he told me that Black was the one to betray my parents to Voldemort."
Mr. Weasley flinched minutely, and nodded with a sigh. "Thank Merlin, I was afraid that I would have to lie – Dumbledore told us, when your parents died, and – well, you know that us Weasleys are horrible at lying. You've taken the information well, I take it? No new nightmares or anything?"
Harry shook his head, smiling slightly at his concern, and Arthur frowned. "Listen, Harry, I want you to give me your word."
"My word for what?"
"That you won't go looking for Black." Mr. Weasley looked oddly serious, more so than Harry had ever seen him. "Promise me, Harry, that whatever happens –"
"O-of course, but –" Harry stuttered a bit in surprise, "Why would I want to go looking for someone who wants to kill me, especially an adult? Even if he killed them, I still wouldn't want to what basically amounts to committing practical suicide."
"Thank you, Harry." Arthur sighed gratefully, and motioned to the train, and his wife and children standing nearby the red engine. "That – that makes me feel a lot better. Well, after you, then. Molly has made you some bacon sandwiches she's handing out, and I don't doubt that they'll be delicious."
Oo0oO
Mrs. Weasley turned around just as Harry and Arthur arrived at the group. She smiled, holding out a package wrapped in foil. "Here you are, dear. Two bacon sandwiches, for the journey."
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley." Harry smiled gratefully as he slid the package into his school robes' inner pocket (why he hadn't went and bought a day-to-day set of robes yet, he didn't know, but anything was more comfortable than Dudley's hand-me-downs). Molly turned to her children, giving them – including Harry, Hermione, and Penelope – a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Do take care, won't you, dears?" She said as she straightened up again. She looked like she was going to say something else, but the train whistled loudly, and two uniformed, straight-backed Aurors started systematically closing the compartment doors with flicks of their wands. Molly made a shooing motion. "Go on, go on, before they close the doors, quickly now."
And as one, they all hurried inside the train and into the compartment right next to the door, where a boy around their age was already seated, completely ignoring their existence. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione immediately hung out of the window of the now moving train to wave at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Harry, unable to fit through the window alongside them, simply plopped into the seat opposite of the other boy, nodding politely. It went completely ignored.
When the train finally turned the corner and entered a tunnel, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione plopped down in the three seats not taken by Harry and the boy, who was reading a book and completely ignoring their presence. Ginny breathed out a sigh. "Yay! To Hogwarts!" She cheered softly, too tired from hanging out of the window to be overly loud. She turned to look at the boy. "Oh, I'm sorry if we came interrupted. I'm Ginny Weasley, nice to meet you." Ginny held out her hand to shake, but the boy only glanced up before dismissing it, choosing to continue reading instead.
"Nott. Theodore Nott." He sounded quite snooty, and Harry couldn't help but think that he'd fit in perfectly with Malfoy's little crowd. "And if you were truly sorry, you would've left already, instead of trying to make conversation."
"Oh." Ginny blinked, pulling her hand back. "Well, I thought I'd at least be polite."
"Being polite would imply that one either does or says something that is enjoyed – or at least appreciated – by both parties." He shot a glance over the company in his compartment. "This conversation is conceived as such by neither, judging by the looks on your faces. Reminds me of constipation."
Ron scowled, looking as annoyed as they all felt. "I get that we interrupted, but you don't need to be rude." Nott blinked at the redhead.
"Oh, I'm not being rude. I'm merely stating facts." And despite himself, Harry found himself admiring the other boy's enchanted indestructible Mithril balls – when you were smaller than him, Ron's angry-face was nothing if not intimidating, towering over you with that angry face as he did.
"Come, let's just go." Hermione attempted, standing up. "We'll leave him to his reading. I'm sure that there are other empty compartments."
Ginny and Harry stood up immediately after her, but Ron stayed, glowering at Nott. Harry sighed, silently motioning for Hermione and Ginny to step outside before him. "Ron, come on, let's leave. If he shows up with Malfoy later, we'll be able to get him then. Just leave it, for now."
His best mate stayed glowering for several seconds longer, before standing up abruptly and stomping past Harry, looking only a little bit less angry than he had. "Fine." He bit out, and Harry had to hide a smile behind his hand. Someone, it seemed, was a tad bit overprotective.
He looked back over to Nott, and frowned at the boy, who was ignoring the goings-on again. "…I doubt that anyone is actually your friend, considering how you act towards new people, so I should probably tell you that it's not a good thing to make everyone an enemy, accidentally or not, even if it might seem like it doesn't matter right now." Because he hadn't cared about his reputation in Privet Drive, at first. Then came the unwarranted blame, and the stares, and the wary glances. So it mattered.
"Why do you care?" Nott asked pointedly, finally looking up from his book, and Harry shrugged unrepentantly.
"I don't." He said. "But I'd still give you help even if you were a Malfoy that needed it. Hermione calls it a saving-people thing." Then, he backed out of the cabin, opening the closed door behind him. "I'll leave you be, now. Just give it some thought."
Then, the door slid shut, and he was gone. Nott, left alone in his compartment, snorted dismissively in the direction Harry had moved off into, turning back towards his book. What a waste of time.
Oo0oO
A few minutes later, Harry found his friends again stuffed all the way in the back, near the door to the luggage carriage, where someone else was already sleeping, covered with a black coat to protect him from the light.
"Hey." Harry greeted, slipping through the door with minimal noise. "Couldn't find an empty compartment?"
"It's all taken." Hermione shrugged, motioning for Harry to take the empty seat next to hers, which he did with a grateful smile. She smiled back, motioning up to the briefcase stuffed in the luggage rack above the man, and he glanced over – R. J. Lupin, it read, stamped across the bottom. "He's a professor, most likely."
"Better than a compartment full of Slytherins." Ron snorted.
Harry frowned thoughtfully, taking out the book he'd stuffed in one of his pockets that morning. "He's probably the new DADA professor, unless another professor retired."
Ginny hummed doubtfully. "Well, I hope he's up to it." She said. "He looks like one good bat-bogey hex could finish him off, doesn't he?"
"Looks can be deceiving." Harry warned (Ron was grumbling something about that Bill never should have taught her that spell in the background, but he ignored him). "Look at Professor Flitwick – he was a big-time duelling champion, winning on international circuits left and right, and on a particularly good day, he's even matched Professor Dumbledore." The entire compartment goggled at him, and Harry shrugged. "Granted, that's got more to do with the Headmaster becoming slower with age than the fact that he's as good of a dueller, and when using lethal magic, Dumbledore is, of course, much more powerful, because battle transfiguration is stupidly overpowered – but on an official duelling circuit, they're almost evenly matched."
"Really?" Ron raised his eyebrows disbelievingly, and Harry held up his book, one eyebrow raised. A Comprehensive History of Duelling, by B. Bagshot. "Oh." Ron's ears burned as he sank farther into his chair, accompanied by his friends' sniggers. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Anyway – since when do you read so much?"
Harry shrugged. "Since this summer. I didn't really have anything else to do."
Hermione smiled appreciatively at him, and he couldn't help but shoot a smile back; when he glanced back over to Ginny, however, he found her shooting him a strange smile that had him frowning at her in silent puzzlement, but she quickly turned back to Ron, who'd started on about the Chudley Cannons again.
"Speaking of books, have you figured out how to open the Care of Magical Creatures book?" Harry asked Hermione, who blinked at him in silent query. "I've bound mine with my belt, but – well," He coughed uncomfortably, "my pants keep sliding down my butt."
She giggled a little at his expression. "You stroke the spine." Hermione explained, taking out her own book. "It's rather symbolic, really. If you're kind to monsters, they'll be kind back."
"Try telling that to a Basilisk." Harry snorted, but shot her a crooked grin regardless. "Thanks, 'Mione." She smiled beauti– no, fuck off, mind – kindly at him. "Hagrid really should tell us these things."
"He wouldn't be Hagrid if he did, though." Hermione smiled.
After that, Hermione quickly started to read her own book as Ginny and Ron's brief argument devolved into a full-on hushed fight over which was better, the Chudley Cannons or the Holyhead Harpies. It was on all accounts a futile effort on Ron's part, trying to defend his favourite team, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try. This lasted well into the hailstorm that struck them halfway through the ride, and it was only interrupted – forcibly – when out of nowhere, the train suddenly started slowing down, and down, and down, until the pistons fell silent, and with a jolt, the train ground to a sudden stop. With a surprised yell, Ron flew all the way across the compartment onto Harry, and Ginny landed softly on Hermione with only a slight yelp from both. Then, as if things couldn't get any worse, the lights flickered, before giving out.
"What's going on?" Ron groaned, scrambling back upright. Next to him, Harry heard Hermione and Ginny do the same.
"I don't – ow!" Ginny gasped. "Ron, that was my foot!"
"How was I supposed to know that?!"
"By using your eyes, you mo-Ron! They're there for a reason!"
"Be silent!" Hermione hissed, and with only a bit of grumbling, the two Weasleys shut up, finally sitting down on their bench.
"D'you think we've broken down?" Harry softly.
There was a rustle of clothing – someone shrugged, perhaps – before Hermione spoke up. "I don't know… We're not at Hogwarts yet, are we?"
"We can't be – we set off only a few hours ago."
The compartment door opened suddenly, and someone fell inside, tripping painfully over Harry's legs. "Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry –"
"Hullo, Nev." Harry greeted with a grunt as he reached blindly into the darkness to grab Neville by the back of his cloak, pulling him upright shortly after.
"Harry?" Neville sounded confused. "Is that you? What's happening?"
"No clue. Sit down – there's an empty spot on the left of the door, near the window. Beware of feet, though, and the professor sleeping in the other corner."
"Right." There was quite a lot of shuffling, and then a grunt as Neville plopped in his seat. A few seconds later, Harry spotted his friend's vague outline wiping a bit of moisture off the window. "I think – I don't know, but I think I can see people coming aboard, with cloaks on."
"Can't anyone make a bloody light? I can't find my wand, must've dropped it." Ron, who'd apparently calmed down again, prompted agitatedly, and half a second and a muttered spell later, the end of Hermione's wand erupted into a soft, reddish light, bathing the entire compartment in a smooth glow.
Ron, now able to see again, quickly scooped up his wand from where it was lying under his bench, before standing up to peer outside along with Neville. "I can't see anything." He announced, drawing back. "Dunno what you saw, mate, but it's not there now."
"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on." Ginny announced, stepping over Harry and Hermione's legs to get to the door, which slid open once more before she headed outside; then came a loud thud, and two loud squeals of pain.
"Who's that? Luna?" Ginny asked incredulously as she rubbed her forehead.
The weird blonde girl she'd crashed against smiled dreamily, and Harry almost raised an eyebrow at the strange necklace of Butterbeer caps she was wearing before remembering that this was, in fact, the magical world, and for all he knew, they were inscribed with protective runes by her father as defensive measure against bullies. "Oh, hello Ginny." She sounded perfectly unsurprised, like she'd expected to bump into Ginny as she was skipping along the corridor.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"Looking for Blibbering Humdingers! They're easier to see in darkness, you see." She smiled as if this made perfect sense, and in the background, Neville facepalmed at the terrible pun. Nobody else seemed to notice.
"What are Humdingers?" Hermione asked instead, sounding curious.
"Never mind that –" Ron interrupted, "Come in and sit down – there's people moving about the train, wouldn't be safe outside a compartment – the conductor would hardly be able to tell you anything the Professor here wouldn't, anyways, so Ginny, you should probably stay here, too –"
"Hmm? Okay!" Luna looked strangely happy, and quickly shuffled inside, shutting the door behind her and Ginny, who'd returned to her seat at her brother's urging. "But where do I sit?"
"On the floor?" Hermione suggested awkwardly, and Ron scrunched up his nose.
"That wouldn't be the cleanest, though, would it?" Ginny frowned, and opened her mouth to answer –
"Quiet!" Came a hoarse voice suddenly, stopping all motion. It was Possibly-Professor Remus Lupin, who was suddenly wide awake, and watching the proceedings with a frown. "And put that light away – it'll only attract them. I'll put up a smaller one. Quickly now!"
Looking quite bemused, Hermione did as ordered. "Nox."
Lupin whispered a rather long spell, and in his hand formed a small, blue flame that illuminated a lot less than Hermione's Lumos did, and cast rather looming shadows over his face. "Get further inside, Miss – Luna, was it? Take a seat, hurry up."
Luna happily slid into the seat just vacated by the Professor, who was left standing. "Stay where you are. I'm going to go speak with the driver." He walked to the door, and reached to open it – but before he could, it opened by itself.
In the doorway, illuminated by Lupin's glowing hand, loomed a disgusting creature, with pale, sickly green skin covered by a black cloak; it was more than likely what Neville had seen entering the train, only it wasn't human. At all. A mouldy hand was visible for a split-second, curling over the hem of the cloak, before it was retracted speedily, as if the creature could sense Harry staring at it and was strangely vain about not having put on the correct amount of make-up powder in the morning, or perhaps forgot to put on nail polish and was embarrassed about it.
It drew a heavy, rattling breath, and as thunder boomed in the window behind the creature, revealing its silhouette, Harry suddenly realized what it was; a Dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban. Why were they there, though, on the Hogwarts express? Was it for Black?
The Dementor turned his head towards Harry, and drew another breath – and Harry felt cold, colder than he ever had, as if it was seeping into his skin, into his chest – he was drowning in it, and vaguely, far away, there was a bright green flash, the exact shade he encountered looking in the mirror every morning.
"If Black isn't on the rest of this train, then he isn't going to be under Harry's robes either!" Lupin growled, flipping out his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
A giant, blueish-white wolf surged forth from the tip of the wand, straight at the Dementor; the hooded creature screeched in distress, a horrible, ear-shattering sound that made everyone clamp their ears, before it fled through the door, the corporeal apparition at its presumably non-existent heels.
Professor Lupin heaved a sigh. "Right. He's gone, thankfully." He looked around the compartment. "Are all of you alright? I like to think that I was fast enough to drive it away, but – well, you can never be too sure."
Everyone nodded tentatively, though Ron, Ginny, and Luna were looking really pale, as if they'd just met Aragog face-to-fangs, and distantly, he was aware that he must've looked exactly the same. Lupin dug around in his robes, and came up with a bar of chocolate. "Here, this should help. Make sure to split equally. You all look quite shaken, and I don't blame you." He handed the bar to Harry, who immediately began unwrapping the bar. "I'm off to speak with the driver, like I said earlier. If I were you, I'd put that light back on, Miss with the bushy hair – I'm afraid I don't know your name – until the power goes back on. Now, excuse me."
The professor strode past Harry and Ginny, sitting on either sides of the door, and headed off into the dark corridor.
Oo0oO
They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey, not after Harry split the chocolate and handed it out; Ginny switched places with Ron to quietly share a comforting half-hug with Luna, Harry switched places with Neville so that the two boys could discuss the Chudley Cannons, again, Hermione took out a book on cat-care, and Harry found himself absorbed in his book on duelling history again, levitating it in front of him lazily.
Professor Lupin had come back in soon after he had left, only a little bit after the power went back on, and told them that it'd only be a little bit before they arrived at Hogwarts, and that Luna, who was still in her normal clothes, should start putting on her robes. Much to the embarrassment of the boys and annoyance of the girls, Luna had no problems whatsoever doing that right then and there, showcasing her pink, frilly underwear to whomever hadn't already turned away – and no, Harry had totally not managed a glimpse of that, of course not, because that would be completely amoral and an invasion of privacy, right?
Unfortunately, Hermione didn't seem to think so, and gave him a whack over the head. Luna didn't seem to think it was anything worth worrying over, though, which in turn made him worry about how often, then, she changed clothes in front of other people.
When they finally arrived at Hogsmeade, it was chaos all around as nearly a thousand students pushed and pulled their way around the tiny platform to get to their pets, stored in the luggage carriage, and/or stagecoach first. Icy rain was pouring down on them like nothing ever had, and some cats began screeching in distress, causing owls, toads, and other cats that remained unaffected by the rain to start making loud, angry noise as well; and over all of this, Hagrid was booming for the "Firs'-years" to follow him towards the boats, waving around a lantern dangerously close to some of the larger upperclassmen's heads.
After picking up Hedwig's cage and Crookshanks, who woke up as soon as they stepped outside and started screeching together with the others of his species – Hedwig swooped down from the trees above to sit on Harry's shoulder as soon as they stepped outside and went to sleep after casting an imperious eye around at her uncivilised peers, apparently deeming it all beneath her – Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna followed the rest of the school over the platform onto a rough mud track, where countless stagecoaches stood, each pulled by what Harry could only assume was a non-existent entity; more than likely magic, for when they climbed inside after splitting up – Harry, Ron, and Hermione in one, Ginny, Neville, and Luna in another – and shut the doors, it began to ride all by itself, joining the line heading to Hogwarts.
It was a quiet, if uncomfortable ride, swaying and hobbling from side to side, and multiple times Harry came close to knocking his head on the roof and had to duck to evade; he could only imagine what hell it would be a couple of years later, when he was too big to evade bonking his head on something. And so they went, the carriage slowly thundering towards a pair of huge wrought-iron gates, decorated with a beautiful dragon curled around the Hogwarts crest, past a pair of Dementors stationed directly in front of the gate, and onto school grounds.
The stagecoach sped up slightly as they headed across the large, grassy hill separating the gates from Hogwarts; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny door-window, trying in vain to spot one of the many turrets and towers before they came to the top of the hill, her wet hair clinging to her face, making her look extremely – untidy, of course, and undignified, and totally not incredibly attracti-NO, dammit – and Ron was trying in vain to get the rain out of his wet robes and hair, bonking his head continuously on the low roof as he tried to do two things at once.
At last, the coach ground to a halt, and the trio stepped out, getting their first view of Hogwarts in two months; and as the rain splashed down around him, and Ron joined the black-and-white sea of students bounding up the steps to make sure his robes didn't get any more wet than they already were, and Hermione hurried on ahead, clutching her books to her chest to protect them from the rain, Harry realized that he was finally back home.
