Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling's Mind, with the exception of the plot.
R&R!
"When I stepped onto the train everything was as it normally was," Harry said quietly, everyone wide awake. Harry had an exciting life and EVERYONE loved hearing about it. Well, with the exception of Ron when he was miffed. But that doesn't matter right now. "With, of course, the change of my family status back to zero once again." Harry sighed and paused, his eyes glazing over momentarily as he recalled his God Father. Neville even swore he saw a tear welling up in the corner of Harry's eye…but in an instant, Harry was back to telling his story and his eyes were clear. Clear of tears, that was. There was still that gunk in his eyes, but who cares about that stuff?
"Well?" Seamus once again prodded. "Are you going to continue or what?"
"Yes, yes," Harry said. "So I took a compartment with Ron and Hermione, just as we always do. And we just sort of sat there. You know, until we got back to London."
Silence fell over the room once Harry stopped talking.
"Wait a bloody minute," some one piped up. "Was that even relevant to the story?"
"No, not really," Harry admitted and then wondered why he'd even said it.
"Because you said it last time, mate," Ron explained, glancing over at Harry.
"I suppose that's the reason…" Harry muttered and then shook his head. "Right, so we got to London—"
"Is this going to be relevant?"
"Erm, no, not really," Harry concluded.
"Get to the interesting bits already!" Seamus yelled.
Elsewhere, things were afoot. The Fat Lady awoke with a start and burped without warning. "Oh my…" she mumbled behind her hand. "I do apologize."
"You bloody well better!" yelled a disgruntled scholar from a near by painting. "You interrupted my sleep!"
"Well I never!" exclaimed the Fat Lady.
We digress.
"Did you really have to yell?" Ron scolded, narrowing his eyes.
"Probably not," Seamus decided quietly. "I guess I could have said it a bit softer."
"'Course you could have," Ron said, glaring at Seamus. "Do you really want to upset The Boy Who Lived? I mean really."
"Well…"
"Say sorry," Ron snapped, taking on the role of authority.
"But—"
"Now." Seamus looked around the room bashfully and then sighed, turning his gaze to Harry.
"Sorry, Harry," Seamus mumbled.
"S'alright," Harry said, leaning back slightly and basking in his importance.
"C-could you continue?" Seamus asked quietly. "Please?"
"Of course. So, where was I?"
"No where relevant," came the quiet reply from no where distinguishable. In truth, it had been Neville. He'd thrown his voice. Over the years he'd been practicing to become a ventriloquist, without anyone ever knowing. He was quite good at it.
Once again, we digress.
"The Dursleys decided they wouldn't pick me up that day," Harry said, folding his hands in his lap as he looked off into the distance. "So I ended up walking, for Ron and Hermione had both left already. I was about half way home when it happened…"