Updated 3/16/22
The next day, it's onto the Hogwarts Express. Everything packed away (and far earlier than expected for Harry's dormmates), everyone fed and watered, as Dumbledore calls it, everyone all set to enjoy their summer. In fact, the smiles and laughter is so loud and strong that Harry wonders about some sort of bounce back from the dementor's being withdrawn, though he doesn't say anything to anyone. Instead, he's just happy to watch the merriment. "The twins would hate to have missed this", he tells himself, but they're back at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley wanted all of her children under her wing where she believes she can keep them safe.
It does mean that when Harry and Hermione claim their usual carriage, it feels a but wrong. Their friends stop by, but no one replaces the void that is Ron. They're both focused on reorienting themselves to a world without magic, despite frequent glances at the other wondering if they should bring up some last-minute things that need to be addressed. While it may seem relaxing to get away from Voldemort and tests and essays, and instead try and focus on just summer and other children and heat and chores, they both know they're not so lucky.
Harry is working out how to tell Vernon that this should be his last summer, and how much he can get the man to agree to by dangling that carrot. As long as Harry can pull it off, he should be leaving again in a few months and never returning to 4 Privet Drive. There were other issues that had popped up, things like inheritances and training. Voldemort wasn't done with Harry, and though he was dropping divination, Trelawney's prophecy had come true. The servant of the dark lord had returned to him, meaning Harry's life was about to get much worse.
Hermione was making lists. One for Harry's behavior and health, to be brought up to her parents. One for her muggle subjects, as she is trying, at least so far, to get her A levels as well as her NEWTS. One for the subjects she was going to be taking in the fall. One for handling the questions she'd get from the other children in the area. One for planning for her upcoming hormones, since Hermione knew that would be happening soon. And finally, one for the carefully doctored stories she can tell her parents about the past year away from them. 'How to explain werewolves and time travel and laying out Draco Malfoy…'
"Do you think you're a good person?" Harry blurts out, making both of them jump in their seats.
"Harry?" Hermione asks.
"Do you think you're a good person? Objectively. We've done a lot of shady things over the years at Hogwarts.' He says.
"I believe myself to be a morally right person, yes. We may have broken a few rules-" Hermione says.
"Shall we go by year?" Harry grins.
"Year?" she asks.
"First year, lying to a teacher, setting a teacher's robes on fire, freezing Neville, the third-floor corridor." Harry lists on his fingers.
"Okay, yeah."
"Second year you got petrified, which cut down on opportunity. But, not before you brewed Polyjuice, which is actually illegal, and not only against school rules. Third year-
"I get your point." Hermione says, cheeks red, "but it's all been for good reasons. Saving you from being hexed, saving Mr. Flamel's stone, um."
"You see my point. First year, we had noble reasons. But now? Are we still good? The road to hell is supposed to be paved in good intentions." Harry says.
"Those are all the things I did. You-"
Harry holds up his hands, "I've done worse things than you, yes. Time in the forbidden forest, threatening students, breaking into places I'm not allowed to be. Sneaking into Hogsmeade."
"If you think you're actually sneaking into Hogsmeade, you're delusional. McGonagall totally knows." Hermione says.
"But I've got the cloak-"
"And she taught your dad, Harry. She knows, she just knows keeping you out is wrong." Hermione grins, "Which proves my point. McGonagall, by letting you sneak into Hogsmeade, is breaking the rules. But, it's for the right reasons. You shouldn't be barred because you have ghastly relatives. That's preposterous."
"So, you're saying if we look at our actions through what we accomplish-"
"And why we do them." Hermione adds.
"We have a better view of our morality."
"Precisely. You've had the cloak for two years now, Harry. How many times have you used it to hurt someone? Or to do something that many would consider wrong? You've mostly used it to sneak around and figure things out. At least, that better be all you're using it for." She jokes.
"Yeah?" Harry says, and Hermione realizes he has no idea what she was referring to. He doesn't- Not her problem. Not with a ten-foot pole, no.
"Anyway, I'm just worried Ron and I were a bad influence on you." Harry says after a moment of looking at a bright red Hermione.
"I think you were? But not that poorly. I just- the girl who hopped on this train two and a half years ago wouldn't have done a tenth of things I've done. I called a teacher a hag and stormed out of a class." Hermione giggles. "The old me would have never. But it was good." She holds up a hand, forestalling Harry, "You and Ron have taught me to be brave. The girl who came to Hogwarts was obsessed with being correct, with being smart and courteous, and above all else obedient. She lived her life by a strict set of rules and was miserable."
"What changed?" Harry asks.
"Some tiny speck leapt on the back of a mountain troll. Here I was, in a carefully planned cry, thinking about trying to convince my parents to pull me from Hogwarts over winter holidays, when you came barging in. The girls loo, mark. Screaming, mark. Roughhousing a troll, mark. But you saved my life. It didn't matter what the rules were, or the proper behavior, none of it meant a whit to you or Ron. Instead, what was important was doing the right thing. I started believing in myself that night, rather than in the rules. And I'm better for it." She says, eyes fierce.
"Do you know what playing by the rules as a muggleborn gets you?" she asks, but Harry knows it's not a question.
"Playing by the rules means a menial job working hard hours for overpaid purebloods who have as much magical ability in their body as you do your snot. It means being looked down on, being second rate. It means that the only way to become someone is by being someone's wife. And it means knowing that your children will be second rate, and their children, and theirs. Only then will they have a scrape of respectability in this world. Your great-grandchildren will be the lowest of purebloods, assuming they all marry magical, but better than a Mudblood." Harry half expects her to spit or throw something to mark the end of her speech. He settles for applauding quietly.
"Sorry. I got a bit carried away." Hermione says, flushed again.
"No, it was wonderful. Really made me feel better about dragging you into so many situations." Harry says, unable to hide the grin.
"Prat." She says, bumping his arm.
Harry can't help but find himself growing displeased. She was entirely right. For example, she couldn't borrow books for the summer. Yet, he knew some other students had these books at home. Some of them, if they asked nicely and had the right influence could no doubt borrow a couple from Hogwarts if they really needed to. The odds really were stacked against muggleborn even from the start. It just got ridiculous the longer he thought about it.
"Uh-oh. I know that look. You're hurting that poor brain of yours thinking too hard. What's going on up there?" Hermione teases.
"The wizarding world really hates muggleborns." Harry says.
"Yes, and? You literally just heard my speech. Once I had a few books about the wizarding world, I realized it was arrayed against me. But I still chose to try. I don't care if it's not a fair fight, I'll still beat them."
"Like there was any doubt of that." Harry says with a grin before his expression sobers, "Do you think Ron slacks off so much because he knows he can get tutored by his brothers and parents over the summer if he needs it? Or is he just that lazy?"
"Oh." Hermione says, "Look at Seamus. He's muggleborn and slacks off just as much as Ron. So, I don't know. Ron is bright enough to know that he can get help at home if he needs it. But it could also just be poor habits."
"Ron's not a great friend to either of us, is he?" Harry asks quietly.
"He sacrificed himself on the chessboard." Hermione says.
"Yeah, when we thought we were chasing down Snape. It was noble, but that's like carrying someone from a burning building on your way out. Any rational person would do it." Harry says.
"You said he followed you into the chamber."
"He did. He really did, was ready to fight a basilisk. Insisted we get a teacher, but he still came." Harry agrees.
"So, he's got it when it matters." Hermione says, laying her head on Harry's shoulder.
"He does. It's just- all the rest. The midnight duel, the comments toward you and anyone else, the constant Slytherin jabs, the goofing off and homework 'help'. Scabbers." Harry lists, feeling worse the more he says aloud.
"The broom." Hermione adds.
"No," Harry shakes his head, "that was on you."
"Me?" Hermione demands, "He completely blew up over it-neither of you talked to me for weeks!"
"But you took it from me. Straight to a teacher without even asking." Harry says. "It's one thing to care about someone, Hermione, and want to protect them. But I'm my own person. Yes, it could have been a danger. But you needed to ask me first. For your information, I wasn't going to ride it that day. I was actually going to ask Remus and Dumbledore about it first. Gifts like that shouldn't happen. It was something so out of the norm."
"But, but I-"
"You acted without considering me. You went around me about something that needed to be discussed- for heaven's sake Hermione, you didn't even mention it might be cursed until you were leading McGonagall and Flitwick! It completely blindsided Ron and I!"
"It was still for your own good." She says petulantly.
"Hermione, just because it's for my own good doesn't mean I don't have a say. I'm allowed to think for myself, to make decisions for myself. I forgave you for it, but next time, you need to ask me about it first, or at the very least bring up your concerns. If you think I'm being unreasonable, then sure. But ask." He can't tell if she gets it, but there's other matters while she thinks.
"Ron also laughed at you." Harry says.
"What?" Hermione asks.
"He laughed at you- second year with the Polyjuice. The cat hair. You were really scared and he laughed." Harry says.
"I don't even remember it." Hermione admits.
"He did. And did he even welcome you back when you... thawed?"
"I don't think so. I only remember you." She says, "He's always been more of your friend."
"My first friend, dirt on his nose and everything." Harry says wistfully.
"How do you think he'll react to you switching into Runes?" Hermione asks. Harry and her share a look. "So, calling you a dirty traitor it is." She says.
"I don't know Hermione." Harry says, "I want to be a better student, to be more like my parents. But, hanging around with him- all he wants to do is play chess or skive off or eat."
"Ugh, and his eating habits." Hermione adds, "Not that it's a reason to not be friends with him, but it is off-putting."
"I know. And we've both talked to him about it, tried to get him to be more polite." Harry says.
"He's just- Ron."
"And that's the issue. OWLs with Ron would be a nightmare." Harry admits, "but I'm not sure we can stay friends if I keep him at an arm's length. He's just not that kind of person."
"And me?" Hermione asks, knowing that if he's thinking about Ron, he's put some time into herself.
"Hermione, would you say you are a good test taker?" he asks.
"I would."
"Would you say you prepare adequately for tests?"
"I do."
"And would you say you are calm and collected before a test, because you have prepared so well?"
"I- no." she admits sourly.
"Hermione, you get so worked up around test time. It's honestly unhealthy- you don't eat or sleep or take breaks. It's all in the books, the notes, all the time." Harry says.
"And? I need to be ready. I need-"
"Hermione, what will happen if you fail a test?" Harry asks, "Not that you will, but what if."
"My grade would suffer." She admits. "I would feel like I didn't do enough."
"Could you score higher than Crabbe and Goyle in your sleep?" Harry asks.
"Of course." She says sharply.
"Then what's the worry?" he asks, "You already admitted that you cannot go the traditional route to success. Your blood, for all the idiocy, is too great a stain in the magical world. So, what does it matter how well you do in school?"
"It matters to me." Hermione says, "I want to do my best, to prepare and know as much as I can. I have to- the more I can show for myself the more likely someone will be to take a chance on me."
"That makes sense." Harry admits. "I can't fault that. But I saw something during one of my stays in the hospital wing- a Ravenclaw sixth year. She passed out before her exams from working too hard and stressing too much. She missed her exams, Hermione. I'd hate for that to be you."
"It won't." Hermione says dismissively.
While they had a nice talk, someone else was searching the train for his favorite targets.
"If it isn't Potter and the Mudblood. Enjoying the ride? If my father has anything to say about it, neither of you will be returning. He's passing a new resolution that will put in place guidelines as to who gets to come back. I'm afraid only the best can attend." Malfoy sneers.
"In that case, have fun, as we will not be seeing you again. Only the best? I'm afraid that Hermione here is second in our year, and I'm not too far behind her. You however, are in the bottom half, and your bookends are the final two. So, if Daddy's resolution passes, we will be returning, and you will not." Harry responds.
"You're lying! I'm in the top 20 of our class, Professor Snape told me so. You're both in the 80's. and your oaf of a friend is even lower. I guess poverty really hurts the academics. Too worried about his next meal to study."
Harry tenses suddenly, paying Malfoy no mind. Something feels horribly wrong, but Harry can't tell what. "Quiet Malfoy!" He hisses, concentrating and drawing his wand.
"What are you going to do with that, Potter?" Draco sneers, drawing his own wand. "My father would love if you-" Harry steps forward and clamps a hand over Malfoy's mouth.
"Can you feel that?" He asks, a shiver running through his body.
Hermione draws her wand as well. "It feels like a dementor."
"Everyone get back, this doesn't feel right." Harry warns. His head whips around at Hermione's shriek. The window has frost swirling along it, water dripping from the ceiling. Steam is hissing from the lock, and the metal of the wall creaks. A skeletal hand scratches at the window, and Harry can hear screaming. The hands fall back for a moment before a flash of green shoots across Harry's vision and the room goes dark. Harry struggles to stay in the here and now and not drown in the memory as the dementor covers the window, its cloak sucking away all light. Momentarily defeated, it lunges at the wall, trying to break the window. The carriage rocks from the impact.
A gaping maw passes by the window, nubs of teeth scratching on the glass. The frost has long since disappeared, all moisture frozen out of the air. A crack splits through the carriage, as the glass starts to fracture from the intense cold. Harry knew that if that glass breaks, the dementor will ooze inside and take them all. He can't let that happen. He can't. But- he can't use magic outside of school. He knows he can't.
Harry looked up the rules when he was preparing to deal with the Dursleys, and he had no clue how he skated by the year prior. One of the few things the ministry came down hard on was underage magic. Especially in muggle areas. The cracks spread and grow, jagged lines growing closer to each other and the edges. It wouldn't be long now.
"Hermione get the others back. Maybe I can do something." Harry said, glancing back at his worried friend.
"Scarhead, what are you going to do! You'll be kissed!" Draco shouts as he runs away.
"Yeah, I'm working on that." Harry turns back. The glass was at breaking point! Any second now it would shatter and—
Crash! The glass breaks inwards, and Harry ducks the spray. The dementor fluctuates for a moment before pushing its way in. Harry steps back, and back again. Retreating. He doesn't know what he can do, but he has to do something. His chest hurts, and his gut roils as something in his reacts like it never has before. He takes another step back, trying to buy time. The Dementor lunges with a loud screech, the train pitches, and everything goes flying.
Harry's head pounds. He blinks his eyes open, fighting the lead feeling of his eyelids and thankful that he has no need for glasses once more. He shoves part of the carriage off himself and stands, using the rubble to lean on.
"Hello? Anyone?" he calls out. A muffled scream comes from a wrecked car, and Harry rushes over. He yanks the door open to see a dementor looming over Luna and Hermione. He doesn't stop, he doesn't think, for the first time in a long time Harry simply reacts.
He reaches out and grabs the dementor's cloak. Whipping it back, away from the girls, and throwing it clear across the wreck. Then, Harry grimaces and reaches within himself, before stretching out. Something wells up inside of him, surges just under his skin. The dementor shoot forwards at him, claws and maw outstretched. As it nears, gaping maw ready to suck out his soul, Harry winds back and clocks it. The moment he connects, there's a flash of light.
ZAP!
Blinking his eyes at the flash of light, Harry prays that he had done something right for once. On the ground is the dementor, convulsing as arcs of current sparked between its cloak and bony fingers.
"Harry!" A shriek tears the air and he whirls around to see another one rushing him. Just like before, he claws at something inside of him and goes to punch it away. This time his fist doesn't even reach the cloak before a bright arc of blue lighting discharges from his fist and sizzles through the dementor. It collapses to the ground, smoke rising off its body. Sensing something amiss, he whirls around to see the first one starting to get back up. Still running on instinct, Harry grabs it by the cloak and reaches into the maw. His fingers clasp on something and he pulls, sparks bleeding from his fingers as he drags a skull out from beneath the cloak. The moment the skull is out of the cloth, the cloth turns to dust and blows away, leaving only a skull clutched in Harry's hand.
Loud pops come from all around as people start appearing, but Harry suddenly feels the drain and falls to his knees. He leans against some wreckage and closes his eyes, his last thought bouncing around, 'What the hell did I just do?'