Heir
Unapparent: Chapter Three - The
Hogwart's Express
The
"end of the holidays" gloom was more intense than usual the next
morning, as the youngest Weasleys, Harry and Hermione ate their
breakfasts. Mrs. Weasley looked as is
she hadn't slept at all; there were purplish stains under her eyes. None of the elder Weasley men were present,
all of them having left earlier for the Ministry after hurried cups of coffee
and toast. Hermione had found a rose
before her place, sitting on a scrap of parchment which simply read, "'Til
next time. B." Ron scowled at both it and Hermione, but he
had resolved last night, upon Harry's urging, to persevere. Harry was convinced that Bill was only
acting the flirt to egg Ron on; Ron himself was not so sure. As he slid into the chair beside Hermione,
he planted his knee so that it was touching hers firmly. She smiled at him and did not move, which he
took as encouragement.
Mrs.
Weasley accompanied them to the station. Last year they had needed three Muggle taxis to cart them all, and this
year was no different. The drivers
deposited them and quickly disappeared into the traffic around King's
Cross. No doubt their heavy trunks,
combined with cages for Pig, Hedwig and Crookshanks, did not go over well with
the hardened London cabbies.
And
so another year commenced as they slipped through the barrier to Platform Nine
and Three-Quarters. Mrs. Weasley
instructed Ginny and Hermione to go through first, then detained her boys and
Harry. She seemed to be gathering
courage to say something unpleasant, as she tried to begin several times with,
"Boys, I need you to listen to me carefully. That is, your father wanted me to say… Oh dear, there's nothing
for it but to tell you outright. There
have been more… discoveries."
"You
mean, more dead bodies?" asked George bluntly.
Mrs.
Weasley chided him for being rude but could not deny the truth of his
observation. "Yes, and… well, the
worst part is that they all are… were… witches. Young witches. I think
you know what I'm trying to tell you…"
Harry
picked up on it immediately. "You're worried about the girls." Cho Chang flashed before his eyes.
Mrs.
Weasley sighed heavily. "Yes, I
am. We all are. And not just them. I'm thinking of Angelina and Alicia and, well, any young lady at
Hogwarts." Fred and George paled
in unison as she named their respective girlfriends. "What I'm saying is, just, please, look after them. I realize that Albus had been advised of
these recent tragedies, but with you-know-who asserting himself…"
Fred
nodded, resembling one of the mature Weasleys instead of his usual impish
self. "We'll look out for them,
Mum. I promise."
The
rest of the boys nodded in agreement. Mrs. Weasley's eyes welled with tears. "I'm so proud of you - all of you. And, please… watch out for yourselves, too…" With that she drew
them all into a large, maternal hug; despite the fact that they were smashed
together in her emotional display, each of them derived comfort that her love
was with them.
This
was especially true for Harry who, as he waved goodbye to her when he faded
through the barrier, realized that he, more than any of them, had reason to
know he was a target of Voldemort's wrath.
But
why so many women, he wondered. Was
Voldemort punishing them for abandoning him over a decade ago? No, that couldn't be - Rachel Greene was
only a year older than Percy and barely a child when Voldemort was at his
strongest fourteen years ago.
Hermione's
voice interrupted his thoughts. "Where have you guys been? Ginny and I have already found seats for us. Harry?"
"Hmmm? Oh, right, good. Let's go, then!"
Hermione
looked at them in surprise when Ron put his arm around her waist and Harry
linked his arm through hers, hurrying after Fred and George, who had sprinted
onto the train to find Ginny. When the
three friends reached their car, Ginny was looking from one twin to the other,
bewildered as they crowded her between them. Fred gestured to the seats facing them. "Here you go. Ron, why
don't you sit by the window?"
"Right!"
agreed Ron, who sat down quickly and held out his arms to take Crookshanks from
Hermione. "You sit here,
then."
Hermione
took her seat and looked across at Ginny, perplexed as Harry squeezed in beside
her. Ron's arm had already slipped
around her shoulders and Harry was leaning into her on the left. "Guys! You're crowding me!"
"Oh,
sorry!" they said simultaneously, but neither budged an inch.
"What
is going on?" she demanded.
"Nothing!"
the boys said as one. Again, nobody
moved. Ginny and Hermione exchanged
baffled glances.
"It's
not that cold in here!" said Ginny, as Fred tucked his arm through
hers.
"Well,
I'm cold." he said defensively.
Hermione's
eyes narrowed. "What did your
mother say to you, before you all crossed over?"
The
boys looked at one another. "Nothing," replied Ron. "Why?"
"She
told you to keep an eye on us, didn't she?"
Harry
sighed. Hermione was the sharpest tack
in the box and there was no point contradicting her. "Yeah, she did."
She
shrugged. "I figured as much. Well, that's sweet of her, and of you. And I'm tired," she added, settling her
head on Ron's shoulder. "I didn't
sleep well last night."
Harry
sighed. "Neither did I."
"Me
neither." agreed Ginny, wishing Fred would go get some pumpkin juice and
maybe Harry would take his seat. She
looked at Hermione, whose head was resting on her brother's shoulder. Did she like Ron? The thought made her happy and hopeful;
wouldn't it be great if they were a foursome? Her best friend and her brother and her idol and… No. Harry would never see her as anything but
the youngest Weasley.
Fred
did get up to go find Angelina when Neville Longbottom arrived in their car,
but not to Ginny's satisfaction as Neville immediately sat down in his vacated
seat. They all greeted the new arrival,
who looked as bad as Mrs. Weasley had that morning. "Neville, what's wrong?" asked Hermione, lifting her
head from Ron's shoulder and sitting up to study their friend.
Neville
sighed deeply and shrugged. "It's
been a tough couple of days, that's all."
"Why?"
pursued Hermione.
Neville's
eyes moved from face to face as if trying to ascertain something. At least, he seemed to decide in their
favor; they could be trusted. "It…
it's my mum and dad…" he began.
Harry
sat upright. Although Albus Dumbledore
had shared the truth about Neville's parents with him, he doubted that anyone
else knew it. He felt some relief; he'd
always liked Neville and thought it would be good for him to be open with his
friends. He was not prepared, however,
for the story Neville was to relate.
Neville
waited a few minutes, hands between his open knees and his shoulders
slumped. He didn't even notice when his
toad plopped out of his pocket and made for the door; Harry prevented this and
deposited the toad in his own pocket. "It's okay, Neville," he prodded gently. "You can tell us - we're your
friends."
Neville
met Harry's deep green eyes and his own hesitant ones were fortified by what he
saw there. "Yeah, I know. Thanks… for that."
Hermione
responded in kind and, despite the grip Ron maintained on her shoulder (she
swore he was going to leave a mark!) she reached forward and touched Neville's
hands. "Neville, I thought your
mum and dad were… that is, you live with your gran…"
Neville
looked at her. God, she had gotten so
pretty over the past year. Her
buckteeth were history and her eyes were so soft. He glanced at Ron who, while regarding him with patience, seemed
somewhat proprietary towards Hermione. When did that happen? Ah, well,
not important now.
"No,
they're not dead, not in… so many words."
Ginny,
whose heart was bigger than Hagrid, took one of Neville's hands. "Go on, then, tell us."
He
smiled at her. Ever since he had taken
her to the Yule Ball, he had harbored the hope that maybe someday, when he
wasn't such a useless git, if ever that day came… She squeezed his hand and he
got on with his story. "I don't
know how much I've told you about my folks. They are… were… Aurors. Like Mad
Eye Moody."
Harry
feigned surprise, although he knew what was coming. And he dreaded hearing about it.
"I
was just a baby when it all happened. See, Mum and Dad were Aurors - good ones, too. They were inducted into the Order of Merlin, for outstanding
service to the Ministry." It was
the second time Harry had seen Neville beam with pride, the first was when he
had been complimented on his flair for herbology.
"Well,
Gran tells me that they had been working really hard, after Voldemort lost his
power," he paused and his eyes wandered to the scar smack in the middle of
Harry's forehead. "Gran says that they were trying to break his power
completely, keep him from ever coming back by uncovering any secret spells and
curses that he might have used to safeguard himself. They were rounding up his old friends, too. You know, the Death Eaters." He trembled now, and Ginny clucked
sympathetically. "I guess they -
Mum and Dad - had just taken some of them into custody. I'm not sure how many, but I know the
Lestranges were there, and Barty Crouch's son… They caught them off-guard. Remember the Cruciatus Curse that Moody
showed us? Well, they used it - first
on my Dad and then… and then…" Neville's voice quavered. The car was so silent that Crookshank's
gravelly purr sounded like an avalanche.
Ginny
came to his aid gently. "On your
Mum too, Neville?" Neville nodded,
fighting hard not to cry. "How
dreadful…"
After
a long pause, Neville spoke again. "They never got better. Gran took me in, and they took Mum and Dad to St. Mungos Hospital for
Magical Maladies and Injuries. Gran
tells me they sent the lot of them, those Death Eaters, to Azkaban. As if that was enough, for what they
did!" There was a terrible raw hatred in Neville's eyes. Harry saw and recognized it instantly; it
lived in his heart too, toward Voldemort for what he'd done to his parents, to
Cedric, to so many others…
"Every
year, before I go back to school, Gran takes me there, to St. Mungos, to see
them. It… it's always awful. They sit there or lay there and babble,
sometimes they scream… they don't even know who I am…" Neville's lower lip
quivered and he blurted out, "All they could do this time was stare at us,
all wild-eyed and go on and on about the last piece…"
Hermione
leaned forward. "The last piece of
what, Neville?"
Neville
shook his head and cried, "I don't know! They just kept saying 'Don't let him find out!' and 'Don't let him find
the last piece!' Then Mum started to
wail and Gran rushed me out; she wouldn't talk about it with me, not at
all…"
Again,
Crookshank's purr took center stage as Neville tried to steady his ragged
breathing. At last, he looked up,
directly at Harry. "Kind of like
your parents, Harry. Except that mine
lived, if you could call what they are… alive." The sob that had been building within him broke now, like a huge
wave on a lonely beach.
Ginny
was her mother's daughter. Gently, she
drew Neville to her tiny breast and rocked him. This was something no one had ever done for him and he let go,
crying gustily.
The
rest of the car's occupants shifted uncomfortably. George stared fixedly at something out of the window, Harry
studied his shoes while Ron and Hermione stared at Crookshanks, whose yellow
eyes fixed pensively on Neville. The
car was silent for several minutes, and Harry was extremely relieved that
Malfoy had not barged in on them.
At
last, Neville took some staggering breaths and sat up. He smiled gratefully at Ginny, whose own
eyes were watery. "Sorry about
that, guys," he sniffed and was roundly reassured by all that it was perfectly
understandable, given the circumstances.
He
looked again at Harry, feeling a new kinship there. "We're both orphans because of that bastard,
Voldemort."
Harry
nodded and noticed that a subtle change had taken place in Neville. He had used Voldemort's actual name and
added one that, albeit appropriate, he never would have dreamed to hear from
Neville's lips. "Yeah, we are,
Neville. But we've all got something a
lot stronger than he does." He
looked purposefully around the car and added, "We've got each other."
If
a group hug could have been feasible, they would have done so. As it was, they all leaned in toward Ginny
and Hermione in the center of the car and mumbled their agreement. Of course, Malfoy picked this moment to
appear at their door, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him as usual.
Even
Malfoy did not know what to say at first. At last, his face broke into its characteristic sneer, curling his lip
and drawling, "What's all this, then? A kumbaya circle?"
George
stood up and Ron readied himself but Neville surprised them all when he
snarled, "Beat it, Draco."
This
really left Malfoy at a loss for words and, before he could fashion a
retort Neville stood, pushed him back into Crabbe and Goyle, and closed the
door in his face, pulling the shade down with a snap.
Ron
broke into a cheer that was echoed by his companions, "Oh, well done,
Neville! Way to go!"
Harry
sighed and sat back in his seat. During
Neville's story, Hermione had taken his hand. He squeezed it now and she responded in kind. Ron, who had the pleasure of her head resting on his shoulder
again, did not seem to mind at all. Harry knew then, in the depths of his heart, that Sirius Black was right. If they stuck together, it would work
out. And it was more than just the three
of them. There was strength around him,
and it wasn't just in numbers.
To
be continued, of course…