It was nice, Ron couldn't help but think, to be a third year. They'd been able to find a compartment with no trouble at all – all the first years were still on the platform with their families, and all of the second years were in little clusters out in the corridors. Ron and the rest of them were used to the September 1st routine though, and were comfortably sequestered inside a compartment, chatting about the holidays.
He lived with Ginny, so he wasn't very interested in what she had to say because he'd been there for all of it, and he had seen a fair bit of Harry as well; Sirius had been at the Ministry, trying to track Pettigrew and Crouch down and so Harry had either come to the Burrow or Ron had visited Grimmauld. Hermione and Malfoy he'd seen once, for Harry's birthday, but otherwise not at all except for the wedding.
Malfoy wasn't talking much – he was in his usual seat by the window – and not looking, but Ron was sure he was listening. Hermione was – in typical Hermione fashion – reciting the contents of all the books she'd read over the summer.
"Hermione," Ron said weakly, "can you not?" Harry looked relieved, but Hermione bit her lip in a way that Ron recognised as nervous. A second later, he realised why and wanted to kick himself; of course she'd be nervous about being behind, when she'd spent months of their second year petrified, along with Malfoy. "I mean," he added, "we already know you're brilliant without you rubbing it in."
Hermione's expression warmed at once but she didn't say anything else about her books, and Ron considered it a win. To make things ever better, Malfoy spoke, taking away any chance Hermione might have had of continuing the conversation. Her attention went to the ugly, orange furball she'd introduced them to when she arrived on the train.
"Does anyone want to hear about my holidays?"
"Only if you tell me about the post you got," Ginny said, arching an eyebrow.
"Well, there was a long letter from Potter about how much he missed me," Malfoy drawled, "and an even longer one from Weasley-" Ginny sniggered, while Harry protested and Ron just rolled his eyes. Malfoy's smirk faded though, replaced by a more thoughtful look. "The bludger was you?"
"What bludger?" Harry asked.
"The one that arrived at the Manor in the second week of the holidays, and destroyed two portraits and a very valuable chandelier before my father managed to get it under control," Malfoy said, still watching Ginny.
"Where the bloody hell did you get a bludger?" Ron demanded.
"Fred and George helped me," Ginny said, shrugging. "It was second hand, out of the classifieds in the Prophet because it was old and getting dangerous…"
"Brilliant," Harry said, grinning. Ginny shrugged again.
"Well, if now's the time to confess to what punishments we've dealt to Father, I suppose I ought to as well," Malfoy said, and let that hang in the air for a bit. Hermione looked interested and Ginny looked downright thrilled.
"I know this one," Harry said, still grinning.
"You do not," Malfoy said. "I've kept it quiet."
"Dobby didn't," Harry responded, shrugging.
"He can't have told!" Malfoy said, looking put out. "I ordered him not to!"
"He didn't go into specifics," Harry said. Ron got the impression he was having a wonderful time. "But when he showed up asking for work, it was pretty obvious-"
"Looking for work?!" Malfoy's mouth had fallen open. "But he- I told you he likes you better-"
"Nah, mate," Ron couldn't help but say. "Harry caught him giving you a sponge bath when you were petrified-" Draco's face turned a satisfying shade of pink. "-you're definitely his favourite."
"Just remember I know where you sleep, Weasley," he said loftily. "So, does anyone want to hear…?"
"Oh, go on," Hermione said, looking amused, "you're obviously dying to tell us about how you've freed Dobby."
Draco shot her a withering look, and Ginny laughed. Ron savoured the sound; she'd been laughing more and more lately, but it was still reasonably uncommon. He'd missed it. Harry seemed to know what he was thinking, and smiled.
Draco launched into a long, very detailed story about how he'd freed his house elf, but kept it secret; Dobby had shown up every few days, to bring Mrs Malfoy, or Malfoy's git brother a sandwich or meal, or to do some ironing, but not allowed himself to be more than glimpsed by Mr Malfoy.
Ron half listened, but mostly looked past Malfoy, out the window, and imagined Mr Malfoy trying to work the stove, or use a clothes peg. He chuckled to himself, and poked a finger through the bars of Scabbers' cage, for the rat to sniff.
Hermione's beast of a cat watched with interest, and Ron glared back. The cat didn't seem intimidated in the least, but nor did he seem to want to come over and harass Scabbers… yet. Ron would be watching him carefully.
Crookshanks looked away, startled by the rustling of paper caused by Hermione vanishing behind a copy of the Daily Prophet. Next to her, Ginny pulled out her Quidditch Quarterly magazine. Ron had given it to her for her birthday – with a few sweets and a copy of Quidditch Through The Ages – because she'd expressed an interest in Quidditch over the summer, and in wanting to go flying. Ron couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her on a broomstick, but she'd always liked coming to Charlie's games and she'd tagged along to the Cannons game Ron had been given tickets to for his seventh birthday (despite apparently hating the Cannons), and so it had been an easy present and one that she'd seemed to like.
Harry began to read over her shoulder, and Ron was just wondering whether he should join them, because he had nothing else to do, when Malfoy plonked a chessboard down on the seat between them. Ron grinned.
The countryside blurred past as they played, and the sky darkened. Ron had won three games to Malfoy's one, and was – if things kept going the way they were going – about to lose a second. But he was saved; the train jerked, and the pieces scattered. Ron's old set swore and carried on as they rolled across the floor, while Malfoy's carried on loudly about how they were sure the bloodtraitor had planned this just because he didn't want to lose. The train slowed, and a wincing Hermione extracted Crookshanks' claws from her leg.
"Are we there?" Ginny asked. "Bit of a rougher stop than usual…"
"We can't be," Hermione said, consulting her watch. "We've got another hour, at least."
"Broken down?" Harry asked, peering out the window. "Can magical trains break down?" Ron had no idea, and for once, even Hermione didn't seem to have an answer. "Someone's out there." Malfoy gave up on trying to collect his angry chess pieces and glanced outside.
Several things happened simultaneously; Harry tensed and scooted away from the window, looking grim, ice raced across the glass and a chill descended on Ron, and Malfoy leaned away from the window, expression curiously blank.
"Dementors," he said flatly.
Ron's heart sank – he wasn't sure whether it was actually because of the Dementors, or if it was because he knew they were out there. Hermione looked nervous, and Harry'd gone very pale, but there was something resolute in his expression. Ron wondered if knowing they were there would help him cope any better. Ginny was wearing a twisted sort of smile, but her eyes were distant.
"Dumbledore's going to be furious," she said, and Ron agreed; if he hadn't wanted them on the grounds, he wasn't going to be happy to learn they'd stopped the train.
"Do you think they'll come aboard?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Malfoy said, watching out the window again. "They're getting on now. I think there are Aurors with them. Look." Ron leaned past him to squint through the icy window, and saw the tall, hooded Dementors, but also a pair of shorter, more human looking figures that were speaking with the trolley witch.
All five of them jumped when the compartment door opened, but it was only a sickly looking Neville.
"D-do you mind if-" Neville was looking at Harry, who shook his head, but didn't speak. Neville sat down beside Ron, who reached out with a foot to close the compartment door. Despite the cold, his palms were sweaty, and he kept looking at Harry, whose eyes were far away. Ginny was trembling, and had her fist clenched around something small and round.
"You with us, Potter?" Malfoy asked, looking uncertain. He'd still been petrified when Harry had his last experience with the Dementors, and hadn't seen this before. That said, Ron didn't think it was any easier to watch this second time around.
"Not really," Harry said in a strained voice, and slumped a bit against the window. Neville quivered.
"Think of something unhappy, but not too sad that they'll make you fixate on it," Malfoy said. He was looking at Harry, but seemed to be speaking to the compartment at large. "It helps a bit."
And perhaps it would have, if they'd had more time, but at that moment, the door slid open and a dark shape drifted into the doorway. The lamp in the compartment guttered out, and Neville flinched back into Ron. Ron shivered, and the good mood he'd been in for being with his friends again and on the way back to school, faded completely. He wasn't sure that it – or any other good mood – would ever come back again.
The Dementor looked – if it could be called that – around the compartment.
"Just move," Harry croaked. His eyes were shut, and Ron could tell from pained expression, and the flickering of his eyes beneath his eyelids that he was gone. Ginny squeaked, and Neville was shaking and breathing rather shallowly.
"They're not in here," Hermione told the Dementor in a small, but firm voice. Next to her, Crookshanks hissed, and Ron's estimation of the cat climbed ever so slightly. The Dementor stayed where it was, and drew in an odd, rattling breath.
Harry made an odd choking noise and said in a pained voice, "Your wand… every time, your wand…"
"Please," Hermione whispered, and Ron thought she, at least, was okay, just shaken, "just go."
"Shut up," Ginny mumbled, and Hermione shot her a stunned look. Ginny's eyes were closed though, and Ron wondered if she was conscious or not. Regardless, she was frowning, and her knuckles were white around the thing in her hand. Neville quivered beside Ron, who patted him on the shoulder. That only made him jump, though.
Another Dementor appeared behind the second one. Ron wondered if they'd communicate somehow, and hoped it might be able to get the first one to leave, but it only stayed where it was. If it had had eyes, Ron would have said it was watching. The compartment seemed to get colder, and Ron thought he could hear sobbing from somewhere else on the train.
Then, there were brisk footsteps – a nice change from the eerie silence that was Dementors when they moved – and- well, Ron couldn't say the warmth came rushing back, but it did get less cold.
The Dementors withdrew, and continued down the train, and a glowing bulldog trotted past shortly after.
A stern looking Auror strode followed, but gave the compartment nothing more than a cursory look before continuing down the train, and Hermione's timid, "Excuse me-" went unnoticed.
Neville sank a little in his chair, looking miserable, but he seemed okay. Ginny had her eyes open again, but they were on Harry, who was still slumped in his chair. She wouldn't look at Ron, and he thought that she, like Harry, might not be faring too well. It didn't take a genius to work out why, and Ron's anger at the events of their last school year simmered in his chest, getting rid of the last of the cold from the Dementors.
Hermione was looking at both Ginny and Harry, apparently trying to decide which of them to try to help first, and then, even as Ron watched, looked over at Neville. Ginny, at least, was awake, so Ron was watching Harry, though he was inclined to leave him, and let him wake in his own time, like he had the last time he'd been this close to Dementors.
Malfoy had other ideas; he got to his feet, and went to stand by Harry. He gave him a shake – nothing rough, but nothing that he'd be able to ignore easily either.
"Potter, they're gone. Potter."
Harry stirred, to Ron's relief, and gave the compartment – and its occupants – wary looks as he straightened himself in his chair.
"Everyone's all right, mostly," Ron said, pre-empting the question, and Harry nodded a little, and looked up at Malfoy, who was still standing over him. Malfoy released him, patted his pocket – which jingled with coins – and stepped over everyone's legs to get to the door.
"Where are you going?" Ron asked him.
"Chocolate," Malfoy said, and slipped out with a steely look in his eye. Ron rather pitied the lady with the trolley.
"I read that chocolate helps," Hermione said, more to the compartment than to Malfoy; he was gone. Hermione had been petrified when the Dementors arrived at Hogwarts, and must have taken it upon herself to learn more about them as soon as she had the time. "He must have done some reading too-"
"He'd know from his family," Neville said. There was something odd, almost bitter in his voice, that Ron hadn't heard before. It was very different from Neville's usual, nervous tone.
"What do you mean?" Ron asked.
"Well, his aunt and uncle are in Azkaban," Neville said, with disdain. This was news to Ron. He knew the Malfoy family was rotten, and was sure they had some rotten relatives, but he didn't know that Malfoy actually had relatives in Azkaban. From the interested expressions on Ginny and Hermione's faces, that was news to them too.
"Who?" Hermione asked.
"For what?" Ron asked.
"They attacked a pair of Aurors," Harry said. He'd been so quiet, Ron had thought he might still be a bit out of it. But his voice was hard, and his eyes were open and on Neville, even if he still wasn't sitting properly upright. Neville shrank a bit in his seat, and Ron thought he shook his head, but the movement was so small he might have imagined it.
"You knew?" Hermione asked, looking curious.
"His aunt is Tonks' aunt, and Padfoot's cousin," Harry said, sounding tired. "But it's not mine to share, it's Draco's." Neville shrank a bit more, looking guilty for some reason.
"We're not about to turn our backs on him for his family, Harry," Hermione said patiently, and Ron felt like she was speaking for him as well, "I was just interested."
The train started to move forward again.
"I know," Harry sighed, settling back into his chair. He really didn't look well, in Ron's opinion, but somehow he managed to find his feet.
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked. "I didn't mean to-"
"I'm not upset, Hermione," Harry said, and even smiled a bit. She relaxed at once. "I was just going to go out into the corridor to try to get Padfoot through the mirror." Harry swayed a little, catching himself on the window.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Ron asked. He half stood, but Harry waved him down.
"No, go," Hermione said. "You don't have to stay with Harry, but Ginny and I need to change." Ginny had been silent since the Dementors arrived. "Sorry, Neville."
"That's okay," he said. "Everyone's probably wondering why I've been gone for so long anyway." He shuffled past Harry and out the door. Harry ducked out after him, and Ron stood again, catching Hermione's eye.
Take care of her, he thought, letting his eyes flick quickly to Ginny. Judging from past experiences, Harry would be the best one to talk to Ginny – if she did need to talk – but Harry wasn't in any state to be doing that now. Ginny wouldn't want Ron's help, but maybe she'd talk to Hermione.
Hermione gave a slight nod, and glanced at the door, after Harry. Ron nodded back.
