The gleaming red train was no less impressive than in his memories.
His Uncle Vernon had dropped him outside King's Cross with fifteen minutes to eleven. He made haste, not wanting to tempt fate or a second coming of Dobby. He'd not seen hair nor hair of Sirius since 'the chase', as he was now dubbing it in his head. What if for some reason, Sirius went for Scabbers now? At the platform? But even as he thought it, he looked around and realised Sirius would have to be truly insane to try that. The platform was packed on both sides with cats, owls, toads, and identical rats, and Harry could've swore he saw a giant, hairy tarantula. The people, however, took up most of the space, along with their large trunks. He swept the station with his eyes for a crowd of-
"Harry!" Fred-or-George Weasley crowed. Ah.
"Harry," Ron said much more warmly. "We've made it."
He frowned. "What happened to your face, there?" He pointed to a faint line, like a really old scar but he never knew Ron to have scar on his face like that.
"A kappa," Ron said quite seriously. "Went for Ginny, so... it'll fade away soon enough."
"The..." Harry blanked for a moment. "A kappa? The Japanese water demon? In Ottery St. Catchpole or you guys took another trip?" He was incredulous.
"I'm being honest, took the wind out of me. And it was nearly in our backyard." That was strange, and that hadn't happened the first time, but some things were bound to be different, Harry reassured himself. Them going back would change things, even little things like run-ins with kappas. Still, he looked at Ginny, so much smaller and meeker than he remembered her. It was insane, still, that he could look at Fred and George and Arthur and Molly... all alive. It was dizzying to see in Diagon, and still incredibly warming to see today.
"Oh, yeah, remember how I told you Scabbers was getting a bit sickly?" Ron said conversationally. "He's perked up a bit, gained back some weight I think."
"Maybe he's glad to head back to Hogwarts, too," Harry said calmly. "I mean, Egypt was probably really hot."
"You're right- I mean, that's what I was thinking, though the twins still tried to convince me that he'd contracted an Egyptian curse because I warned Bill about them and Percy."
Harry snorted. They would. Speaking of, "They've been lighter on him, about being Head Boy," Harry whispered quietly. Ron shrugged, looking unsure as he felt.
"I tried to even the odds against Percy a bit. He's still a git, most of the time, but he's family." And that was that.
From the looks of it, Scabbers was sitting calmly on Ron's shoulder and didn't seem suspicious of them at all. He needed to feel secure and safe, and they couldn't slip up or else he could slip away too fast. They needed to get some time alone, and plan... Harry was itching, his mind racing to nowhere, and looking at Ron he could feel it was the same. Studying never felt like enough but it was something, wasn't it? But what were they supposed to be doing, besides doing better? Making sure people just live. Harry couldn't bear to see the families on either side of this platform ripped apart for another war that they knew was coming.
A strange tightness formed in Harry's chest, like it always did now when he thought of the potential future that he'd already lived. Just five years more of life, and entirely too much seen. Him and Ron stood there in a companionable silence, before Molly shooed the whole coop off to get seats. It was just Percy, Ron, and Ginny really. Fred and George had already vanished, naturally.
"Ah, there's Penelope!" said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink. Ginny caught Harry's eye, and they both turned away to hide their laughter as Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn't miss his shiny badge.
Ron gasped as they stepped into the train. "You alright?" Harry said. He looked at Harry, and then at Scabbers, and mouthed loo-pin.
"Right," Harry said with his eyes wide in excitement. "Right, let's find a compartment!" Hermione was somewhere on nine and three-quarters, or maybe already on the train, but they had to stake out their claim on Professor Lupin's compartment as quickly as they could.
Remus Lupin. Alive and mostly well.
"Twenty yards worth," Neville was saying to an enthused Hannah. "Oh, sorry- hi Ron, Harry- we'll get out of the aisle- " It made little difference. The long corridor snaking the length of the train was a jumbled mess of students trying to herd their friends into open compartments, or trying to herd others out. Ron and Harry first made to check each compartment on either side, diligently, but after more than a couple of elbows they stuck to peeking through the windows and then shuffling along.
Scabbers had wriggled his way down into Ron's pocket, no longer feeling secure atop his shoulder, perhaps, with all the jostling.
"Ron- "
"Oh, Hermione, there you are! Blimey if that isn't the biggest owl I've seen."
"He's a great grey, he is the biggest owl," Hermione said proudly.
The owl in question was in not in a cage, even though they were in a corridor, and was perching with its great talons on her shoulder. Harry thought, maybe wishfully, that it's eyes were as deviously clever as Crookshanks' had been. The cat was a grizzly sight, but he almost missed it. Hermione hadn't been kidding, she'd really chose an owl instead. That felt like more of a confirmation than anything so far... the Hermione he had known couldn't have left her dedicated Crookshanks behind.
Maybe it was good. Scabbers- Pettigrew- wouldn't scare so easy without the cat on his tail.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment and even found three. But to Hermione's consternation, kept walking.
"Don't know," Ron said airily when she asked why. "I don't like the atmosphere. Harry?"
"Quite right, sorry, er, Hermione."
There was, in the last carriage at the end of the train, a compartment with one other occupant. He was fast asleep next to the window, and Harry and Ron settled in right away- Ron next to him and Harry across from him. Hermione stood in the door, now exasperated.
"We can't just sit in on the Professor- "
"Hang on, how'd you know he was a Professor?"
"It's on his case," she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together was a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters. "Oh, I just know he's going to be the new Defense teacher. We don't need to be intruding on him. Two carriages back there was that empty compartment."
"Which is definitely full by now," Ron interrupted. "Come on, we'll be quiet, play some chess." Hermione hesitated.
"No Exploding Snap?"
"We won't wake him," Harry promised. "Wouldn't want to finish him off before he even starts."
"He does look a bit ill. I don't want to disturb him," Hermione's nose was flaring in upset. The giant owl however, swooping into the compartment and perched above on the rank, then turned its back on them.
"Well... he seems alright with it," Ron said cheerfully. "Right, what's the owl's name again?"
"Winston," she mumbled. She seemed like she was caving, her feet were over the threshold. Harry blinked as a strange thought came to him.
Hermione liked history.
"Tell me," Harry asked incredulously. "You didn't name your owl after Churchill."
"I," she flushed, " it's funny, my dad and I have a joke about... oh, never mind. Yes." She slid across from Ron. Then, unfortunately, she immediately brought up Sirius Black. Ron and Harry exchanged a dry look and silently stuck to not telling her about the general consensus that Sirius was after Harry. It wasn't quite right, after all.
"No one's ever broken out of Azkaban before, that's what they're saying... and they call it the dread prison because of the guards. They supposedly suck the happiness right out of you." Hermione sucked her cheek in. "It sounds like torture, even for criminals. But, of course, he's a murderer. Blew up all those poor muggles, I- I shouldn't feel bad. You know, I was just so surprised to see how much news coverage it gets with the muggles... Sirius Black, wanted wizard, little do they know how dangerous he really is... I was ever so shocked at first, seeing him all over Diagon Alley. Aren't you two more worried? It's all anyone was talking about on the platform."
Ron shifted. "Well, they'll catch him, I guess. I'm sure Hogwarts is safe from pretty much everything, so we don't need to worry about Black, Hermione." She looked at him.
"After last year, and even first year, well, I'm not entirely sure about that."
"What's that noise?" said Harry suddenly.
A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.
"Oh, hah, it's coming from your trunk, Harry," said Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. Winston the owl swivelled his head around to watch. A moment later, Ron had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry's robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron's hand and glowing brilliantly.
"Is that a Sneakoscope?" said Hermione interestedly, standing up for a better look.
"Yeah... mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron said. "It went haywire as I was tying it to Errol for Harry's birthday."
"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" Hermione asked shrewdly.
Ron grinned. "Maybe."
"Stick it back in the trunk," Harry advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, "or it'll wake him up." It was frankly a miracle it hadn't already. He nodded at the still form of Remus Lupin, and Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a particularly horrible pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.
"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade this year," Ron said triumphantly, sitting back down. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me, after reaming me for buying a shite Sneakoscope."
"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione keenly. "I've read it's the largest non-Muggle settlement in Britain - "
"Yeah, I think it is," Rom said. "But mostly students just hang out in the centre, go to the shops and cafes. The upper years are notorious for 'sneaking out' to the night locales, but I don't reckon it's sneaking out if the teachers know and sort of allow it."
"Allow it?" Hermione sounded scandalised.
"After Quidditch games, or if you're clever enough to get out and come back in the morning fit as a fiddle, yeah. But that doesn't matter. I want nothing more than to get inside Honeydukes!" Ron announced.
"Incorrigible," Harry sighed.
Without prompting, Ron explained to Hermione, "It's this sweetshop, where they've got everything. Pepper Imps- they make you smoke at the mouth- and great fat Chocoballs full of clotted cream and strawberry mousse, and really excellent sugar quills. Truly, excellent."
"Hogsmeade's quite interesting," Hermione interrupted Ron's waxing poetic about sweets. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says that the Jarvis Inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain- "
" - massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground," Ron was plainly not listening. Hermione looked around at Harry.
"Won't it be nice to get out of school some weekends and explore Hogsmeade?"
"Yeah, definitely," Harry said. "But hang on, about the Shack- we live with ghosts. In Hogwarts. What's the big deal about haunted-anything in the wizarding world."
"Maybe Hogwarts ghosts are surprisingly well-adjusted," Ron offered, finally finished with his live rendition of the Honeydukes inventory.
The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window turned wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened. People were chasing backward and forward past the door of their compartment. At one o'clock, or thereabouts, the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.
"Do you think we should wake him up?" Hermione said, nodding awkwardly to Professor Lupin.
Ron made a sympathetic face. "He looks like he could do with some food."
Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.
"Er- Professor?" she said. "Excuse me - Professor?"
He didn't move.
"Don't worry, dear," said the witch as she handed Harry a large stack of Cauldron Cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the travellers' carriage."
"You don't suppose he is asleep?" Hermione said quietly as the witch-hunting slid the compartment door closed.
"It's not like he's not breathing," Harry passed her a Cauldron Cake. "He's fine, I'm sure." He double checked just in case.
He might not be very good company, but Professor Lupin's presence in their compartment had its uses. Midafternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps in the corridor again, and their three least favourite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. It was clear on his pointed, sneering face that the boy was still smarting over his run-in with Ron and Harry in Diagon Alley. His father probably didn't enjoy having to endure such disrespect, and Malfoy wanted nothing more than his father's approval.
"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and Weasel." Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly. It was insane to Harry, and likely to Ron too, to really pay attention to how... high and reedy his voice was. He sounded like a child, not the looming spectre of their Hogwarts years.
"Very creative, Malfoy," Hermione sniped. "How long did it take you to come up with that one?"
"Stroke of genius, Granger," he said irritably, and turned his attention on Ron. "I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley." He snorted. "Typical, isn't it, to spend it on a trip you can't afford and go back to wadding about in your threadbare clothes and secondhand books."
"Draco seems to care a lot about your standard of living, Ron," Harry said.
"He does, doesn't he," said Ron tiredly, and stood up to crowd the blond out of the compartment. With perfect timing, Professor Lupin gave a snort.
"Who's that?" said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backwards as he spotted Lupin. His cowardice was so blatant now, after everything, that Malfoy was just a mix between him being funny and annoying.
"New teacher," Harry said. "What did you come in here for again, Malfoy?"
Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed; he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight under a new Professor's nose (Snape notwithstanding).
"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.
The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Remus Lupin slept.
Harry thought he rather deserved his rest, but at this point it was miraculous. He didn't stir, not once... it was suspicious and he thought Ron rather agreed that perhaps the man was not so asleep as just resting.
Maybe avoiding conversation with Harry, before circumstance and duty made him feel obliged. Remus always had an air of guilt about him, for many different reasons, and one of them was his torn belief that he must keep his distance from Harry and that he must help Harry.
"We must be nearly there," Hermione said smartly, leaning past Harry to the now complete black window.
The words had hardly left her when the train started to slow down. Harry and Ron exchanged a look.
"Hermione," Ron said. "We can't already be at the station, could we?" She frowned, looking at her wristwatch.
"It is a bit early..."
"So why're we stopping?" Harry said grimly. The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.
Ron, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking out curiously from their compartments.
The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggages had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness. From the doorway that Ron was peeking out of, in the corridor came a few screams of fear and surprise.
"What's going on?" said Hermione's voice behind Ron.
"Ouch," Harry said. "Ron, that's my foot- "
"No, that's me, Harry- "
"Do you think we've broken down?" The compartment door slide open.
"Who's that?"
"Who's- is that you, Ron?"
"Oh, Dean, what're you doing?"
"Can't find Seamus- "
"Hang on, Hermione slid down..."
"It's me, Ron."
"Right, right." Dean felt his way onto the seat.
There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron in front of him, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out. "Harry, they're out there, and damn... coming abroad looks like." Harry reached forward to grab at Ron's waist and slid his own wand into his friend's robe pocket. He couldn't risk miraculously casting the Patronus at a Dementor when he should barely know what they were. He'd have to trust in Lupin if anything went wrong. He thought he saw Ron's dark outline nod, but he couldn't be sure, and they couldn't openly talk about this at the moment.
The compartment door suddenly opened again and someone fell painfully over Dean's legs.
"Sorry- d'you know what's going on? - ouch - sorry- "
"Neville, everyone," Dean said drily. "Oh, have you seen Seamus?"
"No- "
"Hullo, Neville," said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.
"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"
"No idea- come on, sit down - "
There was a loud squeak and a yelp of pain. Neville had tried to sit on Scabbers.
"Oi, Scabbers, back in the pocket with you," and Ron turned to blindly try and scoop the rat up from where Neville's bum was.
"I'm going to ask the conductor what's going on," came Hermione's voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.
"Who's that?"
"Who's that?"
"Ginny?"
"Hermione?"
"Your sister?" Dean asked to the compartment aloud.
"Yeah," Ron said.
"I was looking for Ron- "
"I'm here, Ginny."
"Come in and sit down - "
"Not here!" said Harry hurriedly. "I'm here!"
"Ouch!" Neville said again.
"Quiet!" said a hoarse, new voice suddenly. And an utterly familiar one, to Harry and Ron. Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. They could hear movements in his corner and none of them spoke.
There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames, consuming him from the wrist up. They illuminated his sharp, angular face. It was long and tired-looking, but his eyes were alert and wary.
"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.
But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.