Harry Potter - Vengeance and Wrath: The Rise of The Dark Lord
For the record: This chapter was written backin September 2004, and therefore any similarities to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince are purely coincidental. Thank you.
- CHAPTER SEVEN -
The Long Ride Home
'Come on, come on! We're going to be late,' Mrs. Weasley's anxious voice floated up the stairs.
Harry quickly shoved the rest of his belongings in his trunk, not even bothering to care that his school robes would be creased by the time he put them on. He grabbed Hedwig's cage from the top of the wardrobe and raced out of his room in Grimmauld Place for the last time that summer.
'Will you hurry up!' Mrs. Weasley called again, over the cacophony of Mrs. Black's portrait.
Harry dragged his trunk down the stairs, towards a rather flustered-looking Mrs. Weasley. Hermione and Ginny were already by the door, standing beside Tonks and Lupin, hurriedly eating some toast while they waited for Ron and Harry.
'Ronald Weasley!' Mrs. Weasley almost screamed, turning a shade of purple that even Uncle Vernon would have been proud of. 'Will you get down here this instant!'
Ron appeared at the top of the stairs moments later, his clothes hanging out of his fastened trunk, and his red hair uncombed and wild.
'Look at the state of you!' Mrs. Weasley cried angrily, taking in the sight of her dishevelled son. 'How come everyone else has managed to get ready on time but you?' she tutted, trying to flatten the ginger mop on Ron's head.
'I overslept.' Ron muttered tiredly.
Mrs. Weasley tutted again in disapproval, eyeing his badly-packed trunk.
'Have you remembered everything?' she asked sceptically, opening his trunk, and trying her best to make everything fit in tidily.
'Er,' Ron began uncertainly.
'What about Pig?' Ginny asked.
A look of horror washed over Ron's face, as he raced back up the stairs, returning moments later with Pig, twittering happily in his cage.
'Right.' Mr. Weasley sighed, as his wife closed Ron's trunk. 'Are we finally ready?'
The twenty minute walk from Grimmauld Place to Kings Cross station was very surreal. Harry's previous visits to London had always involved hundreds of people walking around, trying to get to their destination as quickly as they could. But today was different. The "plague" had forced even the busiest of people indoors, and so the streets were deserted. Harry got the feeling that they could have flown to the train station on broomsticks and no-one would have noticed.
Kings Cross station was also empty, apart from a homeless couple huddled by the ticket stand. They were obviously using the abandoned train station as a shelter from the "infected spores" outside. They shot Harry and the group a strange look as they walked past. Probably wondering what sort of idiots would go outside while there was a plague, Harry thought.
Butterflies filled Harry's stomach as he reached the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Beyond this wall was the Hogwarts Express. He was finally going home. With one last look around, just to make sure the homeless couple couldn't see him, Harry drew in a deep breath and ran towards the barrier.
Steam bellowed from the Hogwarts Express, filling platform nine and three-quarters with a hazy, smelly smog. All around, Hogwarts' students were saying tearful farewells to parents, and climbing aboard the scarlet engine. There was a distinct feeling of apprehension in the air, as scared witches and wizards glanced around the platform nervously every few seconds, as if expecting Voldemort to appear at any moment. Harry couldn't help but wonder how the other students were coping with his enemy's rise to power.
'Now then, dears,' Mrs. Weasley began, 'Do take care, won't you? Stay in the castle, and try not to break any school rules,' she continued, handing out sandwiches to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. 'And for heaven's sake, don't go looking for trouble.' she added, staring pointedly at Harry.
'We never go looking for trouble - trouble comes looking for us!' Ron replied exasperated.
'Yes, well, just you make sure it doesn't.' Mrs. Weasley retorted.
'Well, goodbye,' Lupin said, shaking Harry's hand. 'We'll see you at Christmas, hopefully.'
The warning whistle sounded, and Mrs. Weasley quickly hugged everyone before ushering them onto the train.
'Bye!' she said tearfully, as the train began to move. 'Remember to write, won't you Ron?'
'Yes, mum.' Ron groaned, embarrassed.
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny waved goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks and Lupin until they were just a distant blur. Then the train turned a corner, and the platform disappeared from sight.
'I suppose we should go and find a compartment, then?' Ginny asked.
'Ron and I have a prefect meeting first,' said Hermione. 'But it shouldn't take long.'
'We're just going to meet the new prefects and the new Head Boy and Girl.' Ron added, sounding bored.
'I wonder who they are?' Hermione replied zealously, making her way to the prefect's carriage.
'Who cares?' Ron whispered, so that only Harry could hear him.
Harry suppressed a laugh.
'Well, it looks like it's just you and me,' Ginny smiled.
Harry began to walk down the long corridor of the train, carrying Hedwig's cage in one hand and dragging his trunk behind him with the other.
'Harry! Ginny!' Neville Longbottom's voice called from behind them. 'I've already found us a compartment!'
Harry turned around and followed Neville into the compartment.
'Hello, Harry,' a dreamy voice said from behind the latest edition of The Quibbler.
'Oh, hey Luna,' Harry replied, surprised.
Harry had met Luna Lovegood, the previous year, and despite finding her rather odd at first, with her protuberant eyes and necklace of Butterbeer corks, he had soon grown quite fond of her.
After placing his and Ginny's trunks in the luggage rack, Harry took a seat by the window, opposite Luna and Neville.
'Did you do well in your O.W.Ls, Harry?' asked Neville.
'Yeah, I passed everything but History of Magic.' Harry grinned. 'How about you?'
'Well I got a 'P' for Transfiguration, a 'D' for Divination, and a 'T' for Potions,' Neville replied, blushing slightly.
Harry tried not to look too nonplussed. He knew Potions had been Neville's worst subject, but he honestly thought Fred and George were joking when they told Harry that the worst O.W.L result anyone could get was 'T' for Troll.
'But I passed all my other subjects,' Neville continued. 'And I even got an 'O' for Herbology.' he beamed. 'And at least now I've failed Potions, I'll never have to be taught by Professor Snape again!'
Harry grinned. If he didn't need to take Potions to become an Auror, he might have "accidentally" failed, just to avoid another year with Snape.
'So, how's your summer been?' Harry asked Neville.
'Not very good.' Neville admitted grimly. 'News of You-Know-Who growing stronger has been all over the front of the Daily Prophet, and Gran's getting really worried.' he shivered. 'Then, when I went to Diagon Alley to buy a new wand, there was this huge explosion just before we were about to go into Flourish and Blotts for my school books. It was dead scary.'
'Voldemort's been affecting the Muggles too.' Harry confessed. 'Of course, they don't know it's Voldemort, they think it's a plague,' he added.
Luna peered at Harry over the top of her magazine.
'There's a very interesting article about him in here.' she stated. 'Perhaps you should read it.'
Intrigued, Harry took the magazine from Luna, and searched the contents page.
The Grim Truth about Gringott's Goblins.
The Immortal Properties of Chocolate Frogs.
Increase Your Brain Power - Buy a Flobberworm!
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; Murderer or Misunderstood?
Harry reread the title of the last article, convinced he'd got it wrong. Who on earth could possibly think that Voldemort was "misunderstood" after all the horrible things he'd done?
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the darkest, most evil wizard ever known. His very name incites fear in even the bravest witches and wizards. And now he is back, fifteen years after Harry Potter, alias The Boy Who Lived, destroyed him. Rumours are abound that he wants revenge on sixteen year old Harry Potter, and a second chance at ruling the Magical World.
BUT DOES HE?
Clarissa Buccaneer, landlady of 'The Amble Inn', Little Blyton, says the real You-Know-Who is nothing like the rumours. In fact, according to her, he is a polite, well-mannered gentleman;
"I was very surprised when he turned up on my doorstep with his lady friend." Clarissa reveals. "But he was very charming. I made him a cup of tea, and we talked for ages about everything. He said that he deeply regretted accidentally killing Mr. & Mrs. Potter, and would sincerely like to apologise to little Harry. But, unfortunately Harry is under the misconception that his Lordship is trying to kill him." Madam Buccaneer continues, "It's such a shame. His Lordship, or Tommy, as he prefers to be called, wants nothing more than to make it up to Harry. He is such a sweet, kind man. I will welcome him back here in Little Blyton any day."
Harry couldn't believe what he'd just read. He knew The Quibbler had a tendency to print fabricated stories, but saying that Voldemort was a "sweet, kind man" who had "accidentally killed" Harry's parents was taking things a little too far.He was about to tear up the magazine through sheer anger, when Hermione stormed into the compartment, followed a few seconds later, by Ron.
'You will never guess who Dumbledore has made Head Girl,' Hermione hissed angrily.
'Someone from Slytherin?' Neville answered.
Hermione shot him a dark look.
'No,' she spat. 'Cho Chang! An utter cow if ever there was one. She was a rubbish prefect, she didn't even bother to turn up to last years meeting! And now she's Head Girl!' she ranted. 'I wonder who she had to-'
'Hermione! Calm down!' Ron interrupted, taking a seat between Harry and Ginny. 'It could have been worse, it could have been someone from Slytherin,'
'Hmph!' Hermione retorted, sitting down beside Neville, and letting Crookshanks out of his wicker basket.
'Who's the new Head Boy?' Ginny asked uncertainly.
'Oh, Nathan Hart from Gryffindor,' she smiled, her anger instantly subsiding. 'At least he seems to know what he's doing.'
'Oh.' Ginny giggled. 'He's nice.'
Ron rolled his eyes.
The door of the compartment slid open again, and Draco Malfoy entered, followed by his gigantic cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle - both of whom were so vast, they could easily give Dudley a run for his money.
'Didn't see your dog at the train station, Potter.' Malfoy drawled. 'What's the matter? Had to put him down?' he grinned malevolently.
Harry clenched his fists angrily.
'Didn't see your father at the train station either, Malfoy. Hasn't he managed to escape from prison yet?' Hermione retaliated.
The smirk on Malfoy's face wavered slightly.
'That's what you think, Mudblood. Actually, I'm surprised you're even on the train - thought you might have been killed by now.' he smiled vindictively.
Crabbe and Goyle guffawed behind him.
'Get lost, Malfoy.' said Ron furiously, removing his wand from the back pocket of his jeans.
Malfoy sniggered, but left the compartment nonetheless, motioning for Crabbe and Goyle to follow.
Enraged by the article in The Quibbler, and even more so by Malfoy's very existence, Harry gazed angrily out of the rain spattered window, watching the sun try to break out of the heavy grey clouds as the train rattled through the open countryside, drawing ever closer to Hogwarts.
'My Mimbulus Mimbletonia has grown.' Neville stated, breaking the angry silence of the compartment.
'Ooh, can I see it?' Luna asked eagerly, putting her magazine down.
Neville removed a grey, boil-covered cactus-looking plant from his bag. Harry recognised it immediately. It was the same plant that had covered him in stink-sap on the train journey last year - and Neville was right, it had grown - it was now at least twice the size it was when Harry had last seen it. He didn't even want to think about how much stink-sap it could eject now. Luckily, the food trolley appeared at that moment, and Neville put the Mimbulus Mimbletonia away.
By the time all the cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs had been devoured, the sky had grown dark, and the lamps in the carriages glowed yellowy-orange. Harry peered out of the window, trying to catch his first glimpse of Hogwarts through the darkness.
'We better change,' Hermione said eventually. 'We'll be arriving soon.'
It was with great difficulty that everyone in the small compartment opened their trunks and put on their robes. But, somehow they managed it. Once everyone had sat back down, and there was space to move again, Harry removed the shiny silver Quidditch Captain badge from his trunk and pinned it carefully to his chest, using the black window of the train as a mirror. He'd never expected to become Quidditch Captain, especially after Professor Umbridge had given him a lifetime ban from playing the sport last year. But now Professor Umbridge was gone - out of his life forever, and he was free to play again. He just hoped he could be as good a Captain as Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson had been.
The familiar noise of passengers gathering their belongings filled the carriages, as the Hogwarts Express began to slow down, and Ron and Hermione left the compartment to begin their Prefect duties - supervising everyone as they disembarked the train.
With his trunk dragging behind him, Hedwig's cage in his hand, and a squirming Crookshanks tucked under his arm, Harry left the train, and stepped into the cool night air.
Before him stood the magnificent silhouette of Hogwarts castle, and just ahead of him was Hagrid, shouting his habitual call of 'Firs' years over 'ere ... firs' years.'
Harry inhaled deeply, and grinned. It was good to be home.