Best Laid Plans

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Part One: The Defence Association

Chapter Fifteen:

King's Cross Station is predictably bustling, though there lingers an unavoidable air of tension across Platform 9 and 3/4. The Ministry of Magic and the Daily Prophet have made a concerted effort to discredit Dumbledore throughout the Summer, has determinedly denied Voldemort's return at every opportunity, but the general public - whether or not they believe Dumbledore's claim - are nonetheless tense, and wary, and afraid. It shows.

"You'll look after him, won't you?"

"Of course I will," Helena assures, though she expects she won't have to do much. Leo is bright and talented, friendly and cheerful, and in possession of a name, title, and heritage that carry a great deal of value within their society.

In that vein, he also carries a great deal of expectations upon his shoulders - from others and from himself - but he'll hold his own.

Emilyn's eyes are still bright, but she nods, satisfied. "You'd best board, then. Before I start blubbering."

Helena laughs, but she doesn't protest. Rather, she returns the fierce hug Emilyn offers her, presses a sloppy kiss to the apple of Carina's cheek, and regrets - briefly - her departure. She'll miss so much of Carina's little life.

Carina shrieks a laugh, waves a hand delightedly, offers Helena a bright, beaming grin, and Helena smiles despite herself.

"Next time you see her, she'll probably be walking."

"And she'll probably have forgotten me," Helena sighs, melancholy.

"None of that now," Sirius interjects. He tugs Helena into a hug of his own, and Emilyn moves on to smothering Leo in hugs and kisses, "It's a day to celebrate: You're finally free from Grimmauld Place."

"Lucky me."

Sirius smirks, but he sobers quickly. "You'll be careful, won't you? You'll be under a lot of scrutiny this year."

Next Summer, Helena turns sixteen. As her guardian, Sirius expects he'll be inundated with betrothal and marriage offers. Before then, however, Helena has her O.W.L's (and two N.E.W.T's) to endure, and an entire year's worth of time to spend under the discerning attention of many of her prospective suitors.

Helena has been reluctant to consider the fact, but Great Grandmother Irma (not to mention the other women in Helena's life) hasn't let her forget it.

Helena pulls a face. "I'll be careful, Sirius. I promise. Will you check on Mam and Tad for me?"

"Don't worry; I will."

Reassured, Helena exchanges hugs with Remus and Phoenix, polite farewells with the Dowager Countess, and with Mr and Mrs Weasley, and then she waits as Leo says his own goodbyes. It doesn't take him long to join her though, and they walk onto the train together, side by side.

"Are you ready?" Helena asks him. Overhead, the warning whistle shrieks across the platform, and there's a mad scramble for everyone to board the train before they're left behind.

"I am," Leo nods, confident, "I've been waiting a long time for this.

"Let's go find your friends, then."

Once they do so, Helena meanders her way towards the front of the train, easily navigating luggage, pets, and assorted students. She greets familiar faces on her way, shares smiles, waves, brief pleasantries, and by the time she reaches her destination, the Hogwarts Express has departed Kings Cross Station.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," Hannah Abbot greets her. They share a hug, and Helena marvels at the changes that the last two months have wrought on her friend. "I've missed your dulcet tones. How are you? How was your Summer?"

Hannah is a close friend. They've known each other for years - since before Hogwarts - and although they'd been sorted into different houses, they'd retained their close bond. They'd formed something of a group, even, heedless of house boundaries and year levels and familial politics, and Helena's not sure what Hogwarts would be like without them.

She doesn't want to find out.

"Incredibly long, but busy," Helena replies, "I don't think I've been so eager to leave for Hogwarts since before First Year."

Hannah's smile is sympathetic. "That bad, was it?"

"You have no idea, but no matter, it's over now. How was yours?"

"Nothing too noteworthy," Hannah shrugs, "I think I wrote to you about everything worthwhile."

They make themselves comfortable in a pair of available seats, and Helena spares a few moments to take stock of who else has gathered. Draco and his female counterpart, Pansy Parkinson, are present, as are Neville and Hermione.

Helena and Hannah's male counterparts are also present, Ernie MacMillan and William Darcy, respectively.

The latter looks worn after the events of his Summer, and Helena wonders about his mother. She'd sent Lady Anne a bouquet of flowers, along with a handmade, animated statuette of House Matlock's heraldic horse, but it had seemed presumptuous to write, and so she hadn't.

In retrospect, perhaps she should have.

"Malfoy's going to be unbearable," Neville observes. He drops into the available seat beside Helena, Hermione makes herself comfortable on his other side, and both of them appear miserable.

"I think he's got other things to worry about, these days."

Helena hasn't seen Draco since her birthday, but he looks just as haggard as he did then - if not more so - and Helena doesn't want to know what living with Voldemort is like.

Ghastly, presumably.

In any case, it's strange to consider how much things have changed. A few years ago, they were all bright-eyed eleven year olds, enthusiastic for their new, long-awaited adventure, but time and life have steadily chipped away at all of them, has shaped and changed and moulded them all into different - practically unrecognisable - people entirely.

In light of that, Helena wonders where she'll be in two, five, ten years, who she'll have become, what time and experience and just life will have made of her. She wonders, and she dreams.

"Never mind Malfoy," Hermione counters, "Ron's going to throw a fit."

Neville grimaces, chagrined. "I was trying not to think about it."

"I don't envy you," Helena offers them each a sympathetic grimace, certain she's witnessed enough of Ron's tantrums to last her a lifetime.

The residents of Grimmauld Place had learned to coexist peacefully (for the most part), but there's something to be said about the expression 'familiarity breeds contempt'. Admittedly, Helena wouldn't go so far as to say she'd grown to hate Ron, but she'd certainly not grown any fonder of him, and Helena's just grateful she no longer has to live with him and his mercurial temper.

"Does that mean you won't be joining us after the meeting?" Neville asks.

"Not if you paid me."

"What about you, Hannah?" Neville addresses the Hufflepuff, good-natured. "Are you going to abandon me to the mercy of Hermione and Ron, too?"

Hermione scoffs, but there's an amused smile on her face. "Rude."

"Sorry, Neville," Hannah answers. Her cheeks are faintly pink, matching the tips of her ears, but she's otherwise composed as ever. It seems her long-lasting crush on their friend endures. "You'll have to fend for yourself, I'm afraid."

Neville affects a mournful sigh. "However will I cope?"

Helena's tone is droll. "I think you'll manage just fine."

At the far end of the magically expanded compartment, Charlotte Lucas and Cedric Diggory finish their private conference, rise from their seats, and subsequently garner everyone else's attention. Both of them Hufflepuffs, they're the Head Boy and Head Girl this year, and evidently, they've got things to say.

Helena, without fuss, settles in to listen. She's still rather skeptical regarding the whole thing - surely, Padma would do a better job - but for some unfathomable reason, Professor Flitwick has put his faith in her, and Helena isn't about to disappoint him before the year has even begun.

"Hi, everyone," Charlotte greets them, "Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts. We hope that your Summer has been a good one."

Helena glances at Neville, at Hermione and Draco and William, and then out the window, towards the London suburbs beyond.

The holidays had been terrible, for herself and for the others, but in light of Voldemort's return - not to mention what she knows of his first reign of terror - Helena already knows the worst is yet to come.

"To those of you who don't know, I'm Charlotte Lucas, this is Cedric Diggory, and we're your Head Girl and Head Boy this year."

There's a spontaneous round of applause for the pair's achievement, and both of them blush, smile, laugh awkwardly, pleased and sheepish and whatever else. They bring the group back to order quickly though, and continue on with a speech they'd probably rehearsed beforehand.

"We won't keep you for long," Cedric says, "But we'll have to sort through patrol schedules, common room passwords, and for the uninitiated, your new responsibilities as prefects. In saying that, let's get started, shall we?"

And with little fanfare, they do just that.

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