If you don't turn back now, you might get sucked in. Oh, yeah. I should disclaim here. I don't own any of them. But I do own the plot. Haha! Score 1 for Plaidly.
Chapter 1- The First Day
It was the day before his sixth year, and Harry Potter lay on his bed. Nothing had happened all summer, though Ron and Hermione had corresponded frequently with him, they did not know any more than he did. He was disappointed about not going to the Burrow, but at least Hermione was not there either.
Uncle Vernon had just made a huge deal at work, and had taken Aunt Petunia and Dudley out to celebrate. They should be gone for- he stole a glance at the clock- another three hours. Harry, glad to be alone, nevertheless was wishing fervently for something to do.
Suddenly a tapping came at the window. Harry opened it instinctively, waiting for the owl to fly in. Instead, an unfamiliar green bird perched on top of Hedwig's cage. He took the letter from it curiously. When he saw who had sent it, he almost dropped the letter.
*Dear Harry,
If you ever need anything from me, any question answered, this bird will know where to find me. Keep him with you.
Love, Sirius*
How could Sirius be sending him a letter? He was supposed to be dead. Harry soon gave up on that line of thought. It was too painful.
That night he barely slept a wink.
Uncle Vernon grumbled about having to drive him to King's Cross, but Harry just ignored him as he got his trunk and Hedwig's cage out of the car. As soon as he had removed his belongings, his uncle sped away. He had been using this approach ever since Harry's return from Hogwarts at the end of fifth year. "This approach" meant only being in Harry's vicinity as long as was absolutely necessary. Harry suspected he feared Moody something horrible.
Harry got a trolley for his luggage, then headed straight for Platform 9 3/4. He got through the barrier without any trouble, to his relief, and was immediately met with the comforting sight of his fellow witchcraft and wizardry students. He caught Draco Malfoy's eye for a moment- *ugh, not so comforting*- but refused to look at him afterwards. Harry thought he should be smart and get his things into a compartment he did, quickly enough, then went back out to wait for Ron and Hermione. Sure enough, they were waiting for him when he emerged, their backs to him. Grinning, he began to creep toward them.
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Hermione packed excitedly on August thirtieth, knowing she had more than enough time. She could not wait for the first of September. It was their sixth year at Hogwarts. She could not believe there were only two years left. The thought made her a little sad, but then she was excited again within seconds.
Her parents, while they would be satisfied with Hogwarts as long as she was happy, never fully understood the world of magic. Not that they would. She would sometimes tell them about school, the work, the classes, the castle. They were politely interested but seemed never to believe all the things she told them. When she talked about Harry, Ron, Ginny, the teachers, then they could understand. And so she talked about Harry and Ron almost constantly. And she told them about their arch nemesis, Malfoy…
On the morning of September first, Hermione awoke early. After her shower, she double checked her trunk to be sure she had everything. She threw in an extra quill, just to be safe, and then dressed. She decided on a pair of light blue corduroys, a black tank top, and her ever-reliable sandals.
Her mother had set out a bowl of porridge for her, which she ate too hurriedly, barely tasting it. She impatiently bounced on her toes as her parents lethargically made their way through the morning.
"Hermione, please stop pacing," her mother pleaded. "It's putting me on edge."
"I'm sorry, mum, but can you please please please hurry up? I can't stand it."
After another half an hour, they finally left the house.
************************************************************************
Ron groaned in response to the pounding on his bedroom door. "Mum says if you don't get up now, you'll have to leave without breakfast!" Ginny yelled, quite unlady-like, through the door.
Ron groaned again and tumbled out of bed. He had been having the most wonderful dream. But he couldn't not eat breakfast.
He pulled on the jeans and t-shirt closest on hand, and stumbled downstairs. Molly Weasley was bustling around the kitchen, doing everything at once. "Thank god there are only two of you going this year," she said breathlessly.
Ron caught Ginny hiding a smile. "What's with you?"
She pointed to his hair. Ron put a hand to his head. It was not hard to tell just how horrible his hair looked. He groaned again and got up to go to the bathroom. Ten minutes was barely enough time to get his hair flat, but he managed. Better than Harry would, anyway, he thought with a grin.
"Ron, are you ready?" his mother called.
"Yeah, just gimme a minute." He pulled on socks and shoes, threw a sweater over his t-shirt, and they were out the door in no time. When they were in the car, Ron realized that he actually had *not* eaten anything. He groaned for what felt like the millionth time that morning.
Rolling her eyes, Ginny produced a napkin full of toast. "You're hopeless," she said.
"You're a brat," he replied affectionately. She grinned as she discreetly pinched his knee. "Ow," he barely got out through a mouthful of bread. "Hey, that hurt."
"Oh, grow up," said Ginny.
Their mother saw them through the barrier, then rushed off as quickly as possible. The siblings exchanged glances. "The Order?" Ron suggested quietly. Ginny shrugged, and ducked away, either avoiding someone or looking for someone. Ron found Hermione within the minute.
"Hey, 'Mione," he smiled.
"Ron, my name is *Her*mione. It's not difficult. Here, say it with me. Her-mi-o-ne."
"Whatever you say, Mione," Ron teased. She rolled her eyes and looked toward the barrier. "Have you seen Harry yet?"
"Who do you think I'm looking for?" she replied exasperatedly. Honestly, she got mad at nothing.
Ron began to look around. He spotted Harry right away, walking silently toward them. Harry held a finger to his lips, and Ron grinned. He turned back around. Hermione, intent on looking for Harry, had not noticed. Ron turned again when Harry was right behind them, and they both grabbed Hermione at the same time.
She screamed, then wheeled around to face them, her eyes flashing. "Don't *do* that! God, you scared me."
Harry was pretending to clean out an ear with his finger. "Don't yell so loud, Hermione."
Ron grinned. He and Harry shook hands, grinning. "Oh, stop smiling," Hermione snapped.
"You know, you sound a lot like a dictator."
"Well, I'm a prefect."
"Me too."
"But you're not a very *good* prefect."
Ron and Harry stared at her incredulously. After a moment, Harry shrugged, "You know, she's got a point."
Ron shrugged back and they got on the train. He was not looking forward to the portion of the ride in the prefects' compartment, but the rest of it could not be any worse than usual. Which meant he had something to look forward to…
His mood turned sullen as soon as he entered the compartment and came face to face with Malfoy.
************************************************************************
"Draco!" Narcissa called. "Are you almost ready? Your father had to go, pressing business, so I'll be taking you to the station."
"Bloody wonderful," Draco muttered. Not that he did not love his mother. Not that he was not glad that his father was away. He just did not care either way who took him to King's Cross.
He finished piling his homework into the trunk and shut it loudly, upsetting his handsome eagle owl. "Sorry, Rasputin," he muttered. It seemed he had been doing a lot of muttering lately. He grabbed his things and took them down the stairs.
It was rather cold. Over his black fitted t-shirt, he pulled on a black ribbed turtleneck sweater. His mother was tapping her foot at the bottom of the stairs. When he reached her, however, she did not move. After a few minutes, he turned to her. "What?"
"Let me see."
Reluctantly, Draco pulled back the sleeve of his sweater up to the elbow. On his arm were carved some words, but now they could not be made out. He had cut them there during school last year, and they had long since faded. His mother had seen the day he came home and made a huge fuss. She was satisfied that the cuts were healing over.
"Only small scars will be left, eventually," she said, kissing his forehead.
*Great,* he thought sourly, *small scars to remind me of the one thing I can never have.*
His mother left him at the station after a little bit. Where she was going, Draco did not know or care. He put his things into the prefects' compartment. He would stay there when the others left, and Crabbe and Goyle would join him. He almost sneered at the thought of the two, but then he remembered they were his friends. They were supposed to be his friends. You don't sneer at your friends.
He saw Potter come through the barrier. He caught his eyes for a moment, but then they both looked away. Draco didn't care about Potter. He was waiting for someone else to come through.
It took a few more minutes, but she came through the barrier at last. She looked surprised and wary when she noticed him watching her. He sneered and swept onto the train. He wished he had not looked for so long. He was being too obvious.
Once the train was off, the rest of the prefects crowded into the compartment with the Head Boy and Head Girl. He didn't know their names. He didn't care what their names were. They gave out the passwords, talked to the fifth year prefects about their duties, and left.
Weasley and Granger came in almost last. Weasley kept shooting him murderous looks the whole time they were there. Draco sneered back, but didn't say anything. Granger sat quietly, avoiding eye contact. He almost laughed at her manner. She was being so polite. To him.
As soon as the meeting was finished, they left. Pansy Parkinson stayed in with him, unsurprisingly. Pansy was all right, most of the time, but Draco did not care for her in the least. Why, oh why did he *have* to want what he could not have?
Crabbe and Goyle joined them. They played Exploding Snap, ate off the trolley, insulted Potter and Weasley, the usual, until the train pulled up in front of Hogwarts.
It was all the usual. That's all anything was. The horseless carriages, the Sorting, introduction of the new DADA teacher- Professor Winkly- the usual. Even the food, which he had always thought of as exceptional, was just the usual.
Prefect duty that night was exhausting. When Draco returned, he stripped down to his black silk boxers. He thought of that long letter he had written, with the plan of exactly where to place it. He resolved he would do it, on his next duty. Then he turned to the one thing that he was glad was the usual. His bed.
End Chapter
I haven't decided about point of view yet. I think I'm going to be switching around, but not all in the same chapter. Well, review, and all that good stuff.
Chapter 1- The First Day
It was the day before his sixth year, and Harry Potter lay on his bed. Nothing had happened all summer, though Ron and Hermione had corresponded frequently with him, they did not know any more than he did. He was disappointed about not going to the Burrow, but at least Hermione was not there either.
Uncle Vernon had just made a huge deal at work, and had taken Aunt Petunia and Dudley out to celebrate. They should be gone for- he stole a glance at the clock- another three hours. Harry, glad to be alone, nevertheless was wishing fervently for something to do.
Suddenly a tapping came at the window. Harry opened it instinctively, waiting for the owl to fly in. Instead, an unfamiliar green bird perched on top of Hedwig's cage. He took the letter from it curiously. When he saw who had sent it, he almost dropped the letter.
*Dear Harry,
If you ever need anything from me, any question answered, this bird will know where to find me. Keep him with you.
Love, Sirius*
How could Sirius be sending him a letter? He was supposed to be dead. Harry soon gave up on that line of thought. It was too painful.
That night he barely slept a wink.
Uncle Vernon grumbled about having to drive him to King's Cross, but Harry just ignored him as he got his trunk and Hedwig's cage out of the car. As soon as he had removed his belongings, his uncle sped away. He had been using this approach ever since Harry's return from Hogwarts at the end of fifth year. "This approach" meant only being in Harry's vicinity as long as was absolutely necessary. Harry suspected he feared Moody something horrible.
Harry got a trolley for his luggage, then headed straight for Platform 9 3/4. He got through the barrier without any trouble, to his relief, and was immediately met with the comforting sight of his fellow witchcraft and wizardry students. He caught Draco Malfoy's eye for a moment- *ugh, not so comforting*- but refused to look at him afterwards. Harry thought he should be smart and get his things into a compartment he did, quickly enough, then went back out to wait for Ron and Hermione. Sure enough, they were waiting for him when he emerged, their backs to him. Grinning, he began to creep toward them.
************************************************************************
Hermione packed excitedly on August thirtieth, knowing she had more than enough time. She could not wait for the first of September. It was their sixth year at Hogwarts. She could not believe there were only two years left. The thought made her a little sad, but then she was excited again within seconds.
Her parents, while they would be satisfied with Hogwarts as long as she was happy, never fully understood the world of magic. Not that they would. She would sometimes tell them about school, the work, the classes, the castle. They were politely interested but seemed never to believe all the things she told them. When she talked about Harry, Ron, Ginny, the teachers, then they could understand. And so she talked about Harry and Ron almost constantly. And she told them about their arch nemesis, Malfoy…
On the morning of September first, Hermione awoke early. After her shower, she double checked her trunk to be sure she had everything. She threw in an extra quill, just to be safe, and then dressed. She decided on a pair of light blue corduroys, a black tank top, and her ever-reliable sandals.
Her mother had set out a bowl of porridge for her, which she ate too hurriedly, barely tasting it. She impatiently bounced on her toes as her parents lethargically made their way through the morning.
"Hermione, please stop pacing," her mother pleaded. "It's putting me on edge."
"I'm sorry, mum, but can you please please please hurry up? I can't stand it."
After another half an hour, they finally left the house.
************************************************************************
Ron groaned in response to the pounding on his bedroom door. "Mum says if you don't get up now, you'll have to leave without breakfast!" Ginny yelled, quite unlady-like, through the door.
Ron groaned again and tumbled out of bed. He had been having the most wonderful dream. But he couldn't not eat breakfast.
He pulled on the jeans and t-shirt closest on hand, and stumbled downstairs. Molly Weasley was bustling around the kitchen, doing everything at once. "Thank god there are only two of you going this year," she said breathlessly.
Ron caught Ginny hiding a smile. "What's with you?"
She pointed to his hair. Ron put a hand to his head. It was not hard to tell just how horrible his hair looked. He groaned again and got up to go to the bathroom. Ten minutes was barely enough time to get his hair flat, but he managed. Better than Harry would, anyway, he thought with a grin.
"Ron, are you ready?" his mother called.
"Yeah, just gimme a minute." He pulled on socks and shoes, threw a sweater over his t-shirt, and they were out the door in no time. When they were in the car, Ron realized that he actually had *not* eaten anything. He groaned for what felt like the millionth time that morning.
Rolling her eyes, Ginny produced a napkin full of toast. "You're hopeless," she said.
"You're a brat," he replied affectionately. She grinned as she discreetly pinched his knee. "Ow," he barely got out through a mouthful of bread. "Hey, that hurt."
"Oh, grow up," said Ginny.
Their mother saw them through the barrier, then rushed off as quickly as possible. The siblings exchanged glances. "The Order?" Ron suggested quietly. Ginny shrugged, and ducked away, either avoiding someone or looking for someone. Ron found Hermione within the minute.
"Hey, 'Mione," he smiled.
"Ron, my name is *Her*mione. It's not difficult. Here, say it with me. Her-mi-o-ne."
"Whatever you say, Mione," Ron teased. She rolled her eyes and looked toward the barrier. "Have you seen Harry yet?"
"Who do you think I'm looking for?" she replied exasperatedly. Honestly, she got mad at nothing.
Ron began to look around. He spotted Harry right away, walking silently toward them. Harry held a finger to his lips, and Ron grinned. He turned back around. Hermione, intent on looking for Harry, had not noticed. Ron turned again when Harry was right behind them, and they both grabbed Hermione at the same time.
She screamed, then wheeled around to face them, her eyes flashing. "Don't *do* that! God, you scared me."
Harry was pretending to clean out an ear with his finger. "Don't yell so loud, Hermione."
Ron grinned. He and Harry shook hands, grinning. "Oh, stop smiling," Hermione snapped.
"You know, you sound a lot like a dictator."
"Well, I'm a prefect."
"Me too."
"But you're not a very *good* prefect."
Ron and Harry stared at her incredulously. After a moment, Harry shrugged, "You know, she's got a point."
Ron shrugged back and they got on the train. He was not looking forward to the portion of the ride in the prefects' compartment, but the rest of it could not be any worse than usual. Which meant he had something to look forward to…
His mood turned sullen as soon as he entered the compartment and came face to face with Malfoy.
************************************************************************
"Draco!" Narcissa called. "Are you almost ready? Your father had to go, pressing business, so I'll be taking you to the station."
"Bloody wonderful," Draco muttered. Not that he did not love his mother. Not that he was not glad that his father was away. He just did not care either way who took him to King's Cross.
He finished piling his homework into the trunk and shut it loudly, upsetting his handsome eagle owl. "Sorry, Rasputin," he muttered. It seemed he had been doing a lot of muttering lately. He grabbed his things and took them down the stairs.
It was rather cold. Over his black fitted t-shirt, he pulled on a black ribbed turtleneck sweater. His mother was tapping her foot at the bottom of the stairs. When he reached her, however, she did not move. After a few minutes, he turned to her. "What?"
"Let me see."
Reluctantly, Draco pulled back the sleeve of his sweater up to the elbow. On his arm were carved some words, but now they could not be made out. He had cut them there during school last year, and they had long since faded. His mother had seen the day he came home and made a huge fuss. She was satisfied that the cuts were healing over.
"Only small scars will be left, eventually," she said, kissing his forehead.
*Great,* he thought sourly, *small scars to remind me of the one thing I can never have.*
His mother left him at the station after a little bit. Where she was going, Draco did not know or care. He put his things into the prefects' compartment. He would stay there when the others left, and Crabbe and Goyle would join him. He almost sneered at the thought of the two, but then he remembered they were his friends. They were supposed to be his friends. You don't sneer at your friends.
He saw Potter come through the barrier. He caught his eyes for a moment, but then they both looked away. Draco didn't care about Potter. He was waiting for someone else to come through.
It took a few more minutes, but she came through the barrier at last. She looked surprised and wary when she noticed him watching her. He sneered and swept onto the train. He wished he had not looked for so long. He was being too obvious.
Once the train was off, the rest of the prefects crowded into the compartment with the Head Boy and Head Girl. He didn't know their names. He didn't care what their names were. They gave out the passwords, talked to the fifth year prefects about their duties, and left.
Weasley and Granger came in almost last. Weasley kept shooting him murderous looks the whole time they were there. Draco sneered back, but didn't say anything. Granger sat quietly, avoiding eye contact. He almost laughed at her manner. She was being so polite. To him.
As soon as the meeting was finished, they left. Pansy Parkinson stayed in with him, unsurprisingly. Pansy was all right, most of the time, but Draco did not care for her in the least. Why, oh why did he *have* to want what he could not have?
Crabbe and Goyle joined them. They played Exploding Snap, ate off the trolley, insulted Potter and Weasley, the usual, until the train pulled up in front of Hogwarts.
It was all the usual. That's all anything was. The horseless carriages, the Sorting, introduction of the new DADA teacher- Professor Winkly- the usual. Even the food, which he had always thought of as exceptional, was just the usual.
Prefect duty that night was exhausting. When Draco returned, he stripped down to his black silk boxers. He thought of that long letter he had written, with the plan of exactly where to place it. He resolved he would do it, on his next duty. Then he turned to the one thing that he was glad was the usual. His bed.
End Chapter
I haven't decided about point of view yet. I think I'm going to be switching around, but not all in the same chapter. Well, review, and all that good stuff.