Welcome, my friends, to the Beginning of the End.
Our partings fill with sorrow,
through hot and cold, thick and thin,
may I see your face tomorrow.
# # #
Harry Potter shoved the last things into his trunk and looked around the stone and scarlet room, stripped of all of it's posters and items that had made it his home for the past seven years. It looked lonely and forlorn now; a mere skeleton of what it used to be. Seven beds stood silent, and empty, waiting for the next class to come and fill them again next year.
Tossing his black hair out of his eyes, he tried to push it onto his cart. Even though he had grown taller from the overly inquisitive, underfed boy who had come here seven years ago, several things still hadn't changed, like his lack of muscularity. After nearly a quarter of an hour of intense struggle, there was a shuffle to the left of him, and the trunk seemed to become a lot lighter.
# # #
The good times we had,
the laughs we shared,
the pranks we pulled,
the rules we spared.
# # #
Unsurprisingly, it was Ron, who gave a grunt and hoisted the heavy trunk on the cart with ease. Harry snorted and strapped the case down on the cart, before whistling for Hedwig.
Ron had changed a lot too, from the tall, thin gangly preteen to who he was now. Ron had widened up a bit, but his feet were still about three times taller than were fit for his body. If the rest of him grew to match his feet, Ron would end up a man of splendid proportions.
"You ready? They're holding up the Express for you," Ron said, helping strap down the trunk while Harry got Hedwig in the cage.
When Harry heard that, his cheeks nearly went redder than Ron's shock of red hair. "Why didn't somebody come and get me?" he asked indignantly.
Ron finished tying down the trunk and gave the top of it a hefty thump; his personal stamp of finishing up.
"Somebody did come and get you. That somebody was me. Now hurry up," Ron demanded, grabbing Hedwig's cage. "I'll carry this."
Harry sighed and pushed the cart out of the Gryffindor locker room. The Fat Lady waved goodbye as the portrait swung shut behind them.
# # #
May I remember your face,
be you friend or foe,
so your features I can remember,
and your legacy I know.
# # #
The Hogwarts express was just the way that Harry had ridden it years before, except for one major difference. This time it would take him to the muggle world, and it wouldn't take him back to his magical school.
"Here's the compartment that Hermione saved for us," Ron said, helping Harry drag the heavy loaded trunk up the stairs.
Shoving the trunk in the corner, Harry looked around until he found the beaming young lady who was swinging her hands over her head ecstatically, trying to get their attention.
Hermione had also changed quite a bit from the book-bound, buck-toothed, bossy girl that Harry and Ron met on the train. Her teeth hadn't been bucked since fifth year, when her parents finally bossed her into getting braces. She was slim, but by no means fragile and delicate.
"Took you long enough," Hermione groaned, moving over to give the two boys room to squish onto the bench with her.
# # #
Will you remember me?
O friends I adore,
will we age and be together?
Or will we perish on separate shores?
# # #
The train started, slowly chugging into the grainy, squeaky sounds of train movement. The rusted joints of the wheels groaned and complained with long stiffness as they started to turn. After about five minutes of jolty movement, the train finally swung into steady rhythm as the wheels clickety-clacked along the rails.
Harry leaned his head on the cool window and watched the quickly disappearing silhouette of Hogwarts melt away. It was a very overcast day, the kind where the smell of wet is in the air, and you can almost feel the droplets of water, but the clouds just kind of held it in. Harry thought that if God was trying to add to this already depressing day, He was doing a good job at it. The least it could have been was sunny, he thought.
When his breath had fogged up the windowpane enough, and his eyes were tired of straining to catch final glimpses of the castle, he turned back inside. Hermione and Ron were inspecting their wands, as if they had just gotten them.
"No letter to tell parents we aren't to use magic over the summer," Ron breathed. He looked over at Harry and Hermione. "We're fully trained wizards now."
Hermione shook her head. "Seven whole years. Wow."
Harry didn't respond. Instead, he opted to give Hedwig some attention. Sticking his fingers between the bars of the cage, he cooed softly to her. Hedwig, who didn't like train rides, nipped at one of his fingers in reproach.
Seeing what Harry was doing, Ron looked over at his own owl, Snip, who was sleeping peacefully in the safety of his cage.
"Snip likes train rides," he crooned, smiling over at the sleeping owl. Hermione rolled her eyes as she stroked Crookshanks in her lap.
"You two are acting like a pair of nuts," she scolded softly, as Crookshanks purred like a drill in her lap.
"Right, Hermione," Harry sighed. "Like you don't do the same thing with that crazy cat."
Hermione was about to reply, but was interrupted by a loud snore, courtesy of Ron. That made the topic of conversation change as she and Harry shared a giggle, before Hermione yawned.
Covering her mouth with her hand, she leaned back in her seat. "Ron has an idea," she mumbled sleepily. Yawning again, she settled back and was soon asleep. Crookshanks kneaded her stomach lazily before turning around a few times and curling back up.
Harry snorted in a bit of contempt. Here it was, the last few hours they were going to be together for who knows when, and everybody was sleeping.
About a half-hour later, Harry had to admit that Hermione and Ron had a good point. The soothing rocking of the train seemed to be trying to lull him to sleep. What was worse was that most of his compartment was already asleep, save a few individuals who, like him, were nearly asleep anyway.
Finally, the warm air, the steady chorus of soft snores and the gentle hum of the train locomotive were too much. Harry was asleep.
# # #
If we must part now,
your hopes and dreams may Fate defend,
but one answer I must have,
is this really the Beginning of the End?
# # #
A faint jolt of movement brought Harry out of his deep slumber slightly, and then the air seemed unusually still. Forgetting where he was, Harry rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. A hand shot out and shook his shoulder roughly.
Feeling groggy, Harry sat up and looked about him confusedly. Hermione and Ron were grabbing their carry on bags, and rising out of their seats. Hermione's hand swung out to shake Harry again, but she turned around and saw that he was up.
"Finally! Hurry up. We're back," she ordered brusquely. Harry stood up, still feeling slightly dazed. They couldn't be back so soon! It was too early! There was no way that he had slept for so long.
Filling out into the crowded halls, Harry, Hermione and Ron managed to mush their way out of the cluster of people in the train. Swinging over to the left, they tried to find a place to talk that was out of the way. Harry was preoccupied, and therefore not watching what he was doing. He ran slapbang into someone unwittingly.
"Watch where you're going, Potter!" an icily familiar voice snapped.
"Bite his head off, Malfoy, it was an accident!" Ron spat back.
Harry looked up at his long-time foe. He had actually changed a whole lot from the sneering, calculating person he was when they had met at the robe shop seven years ago. Well, he was still sneering and calculating, but he was now a very tall, sneering, calculating person. Hitting a major growth spurt in his sixth year, he now towered over even Ron. He had widened a tad, although not much and he still had the appearance of a sharp, skinny knife.
Malfoy rolled his eyes in the back of his head. Along with sneering, that was another thing he had gotten really good at lately. Grabbing his cart, he gave a shove the other way and stalked off.
# # #
Dreamers, worshipers, lovers, wishers,
sinners alike.
Without warning or heed,
I can strike.
# # #
Muttering dark things, Ron followed Hermione and Harry to a section near a wall that didn't appear to be being used.
They just stood there, staring silently at each other for a few moments, before Hermione spoke.
"I suppose that this is it," she said shakily. Ron nodded, before looking around.
"Any ideas on what you're going to do for a job?" he asked.
Harry shrugged, and nodded to Hermione. "You first."
"I had always envisioned being the first Mistress of Magic," she said, seemingly gazing off into the future.
"A teaching position at Hogwarts sounds intriguing," Ron said finally after another pause. Harry had to grin at that one.
"You? A professor? You'd have to work with Snape," Harry cautioned. Ron grinned.
"That's why I'm going to go out for the Potions job. I can run him outta there. Anyway, what about you, Harry?"
Harry shrugged again. "I suppose whatever Fate deals me," he said mysteriously. Hermione rolled her eyes.
# # #
Colors, race, religion, place in society,
too late many of you find,
poor, rich, educated, dumb,
that to who you are, I am blind.
# # #
"You're starting to sound like Professor Trelawney," she said disdainfully.
"We'll have to figure out a way to let your horrible relatives let you come to my house over the summer. I doubt that they would care," Ron said, changing the subject.
"I suppose," Harry said, feeling disconnected.
There was more awkward silence. The trio watched as the man regulated how many wizards and witches were allowed to go through the barrier at once. It was always the same. Two by two, two by two.
"It's so odd," Hermione said in that odd soft voice again, "we won't be coming back next year. I don't even know what I want to do with my life yet."
Harry knew that Hermione was almost to the point of breaking down into tears, so he sighed and put a friendly arm around her shoulders. They made their way into the line, and slowly started waddling towards the front in it, in the silence of their own minds again.
The man scowled at them, but let Harry and Hermione walk through the barrier together. Hannah Abbot and Ron followed them.
Harry quickly spotted the bright mass of red hair that signaled Ron's family, and then saw the Granger family standing there quietly. He then saw the Dursleys, standing as far away from them as humanly possible. Harry sighed again.
# # #
Dreamers dream,
worshipers pray,
sinners scorn,
lovers play.
# # #
"Boy, hurry up!" Vernon Dursley barked. Walking over to the Weasley family, he was showered in slaps on the back from Fred and George, a stately handshake from Percy, a hug and a light peck on the cheek from Mrs. Weasley, and a gruff wink from Mr. Weasley. Ginny even got up the nerve to run up, throw her arms around Harry's waist, and retreat back behind her father.
"So, how does it feel to be a wizard?" Percy asked. Hermione smiled wanly.
"The same as it felt before I was a witch, I suppose," she whispered.
Vernon Dursley started yelling angry obscenities at Harry, and he sighed.
"I got to go," he said quickly. Ron smiled, but seemed to blink too much, and his arms were wobbling ever so slightly. Hermione was on the brink of tears, but seemed to be holding on to herself by a thread.
"Bye Ron, I'll send you an owl," Harry said, reaching out for a handshake. Ron took it and grasped it firmly, before answering.
"We'll be looking forward to having you over for awhile," he said chokingly. Harry smiled, and turned to Hermione.
"Goodbye, Hermione. Hopefully I'll see you this summer too," he said before bending over to give her a short hug.
Hermione couldn't speak over the lump in her throat, so she just nodded. Harry waved one last time, before wheeling his cart around to face the Dursleys.
"Why didn't you stay all day?" Petunia snapped. Harry thought it best not to answer that, as he loaded his trunk in the back of the car.
He sat down in the car, and Dudley sat down next to him. The car literally tipped over to the side because of his girth. Dudley had gained about one hundred pounds over the year, and was huge.
Harry just stared out the window as the muggle world scooted by, feeling very empty. Vernon was talking loudly to his wife about the recent success the drill company had had. Harry saw no point in contributing to this conversation, so he didn't.
Pretty soon the car revved up the driveway on Privet Drive, house number four. The three Dursleys climbed out the door and into the house, leaving Harry to struggle with the heavy trunk himself.
Upon entering the house, he was instantly jumped on by Vernon Dursley. He stuck his fat purple face into Harry's, and started to speak in a deadly whisper.
"Listen, boy. You're a fully trained wizard now, and we don't need you in here eating our food, and doing your....odd....voodoo rituals. You have one month to clear out." With that, he turned on his heels and stormed off into the kitchen.
Harry couldn't believe what he had just heard. He was being thrown out! He didn't know whether to fall over in shock or jump for joy. But where was he going to go? He was a new recruit, just out of school. Maybe the Weasley's would let him stay for awhile at their place. It was already so crowded there, though, and he felt bad asking.
His head felt muddled, and Harry thought that he was going to be sick all over the place. Dinner was set on the table, but he didn't feel like eating. Instead, he dragged his trunk up the stairs to his room.
His room was the same since he had gotten it seven years ago. Plain white, and crammed with Dudley's old playthings. Since Dudley had now deemed himself too old for toys, Harry had to push away several knick-knacks off of his bed so he could flop on it.
Since he had already slept so much that day, Harry wasn't so sure if he could sleep anymore. But Harry and sleep soon found each other, and Harry was out for the rest of the day.
# # #
And so, my mortal pawn,
your game of chess has yet to begin.
In response to the earlier query,
yes, this is the Beginning of the End.
# # #
A/N: ::cough:: Cornball fic! ::coughs again:: Cornball fic! ::buries head in hands:: This is what happens to me when I don't get enough sleep. I try to take a break from writing, but noooo, my muse has to attack me in the middle of the night... Well, if you like the sound of this, this could be the beginning of a very long series. (No, the rest of the series has almost NOTHING to do with this, i.e. it's not fluffy at ALL.) To clear up any confusion, the part of the poem that runs through this fic that is in Italics is spoken by a person called 'The Avid Dreamer'. The part that is in bold is told by 'Fate'. Yes, I wrote it. Yes, I know I have no life to speak of. ::hears lots of groans, and moans like 'Moxie's at the poetry again':: Shadup! This is actually an old poem I wrote a long time ago. I read it over, and it just fit. Enjoy the semi-fluff of this fic. If I write more, it won't stay fluffy for long.... *evil grin*
~Moxie ^_^
Disclaimer: No character in this fic belongs to me. The only thing that does in the plot, and the poem, I think....