A/N: Alright, here it is guys. Chapter 5! It's a long one, and it took a while to write. I just hope I did okay with all of the characters. Let me know what you think!

Harry sat still as a statue in the backseat of his uncle's car as Vernon sped through the streets, getting closer and closer to King's Cross station. The boy unconsciously tightened his grip on the sides of Hedwig's cage as he stared resolutely out the window, trying his best to think only of Hogwarts and his friends. He couldn't wait to get back to the wizarding world. The summer holiday had been far too long.

Only now, he had no home to come back to next year. Aunt Petunia had made that abundantly clear yesterday. And Uncle Vernon had wholeheartedly agreed as soon as he had arrived home to discover that Harry had "viciously attacked" his son.

Harry winced as the car went over a bump in the road, jolting his body in the process. Uncle Vernon hadn't held back last night when he delivered Harry's punishment. He never did when it came to Dudley. Harry was just thankful he could walk today, despite the pain in his back. He suspected that his magic probably had something to do with that.

The silence in the car was deafening. Harry could almost feel his uncle's angry eyes watching him through the rear view mirror, and he had to suppress a shudder as he determinedly kept his gaze focused on the window. Just a few more minutes and they would be at the train station.

But it felt like hours to Harry.

What if his uncle had something else planned for him? Maybe Vernon wasn't going to take him to the train station at all. Maybe the man was going to dump him off in some darkened alleyway where he would starve to death or die of cold or—

"Out!" the booming voice sliced through the silence of the car, causing Harry to flinch as his thoughts were interrupted.

The car had come to a stop without Harry realizing it. And when his eyes were finally able to register what he was seeing through the car window, there was King's Cross Station. He wasn't going to have to fend for himself out on the streets after all.

"I said OUT!" Uncle Vernon shouted, flinging his own door open.

Harry quickly unbuckled his seat belt and slid out of the car. He then reached back inside to retrieve Hedwig, making sure that the owl's cage was balanced securely in his arms. And by the time the young wizard had accomplished this task and managed to close the door behind him, Uncle Vernon had already unloaded Harry's trunk onto the curb and was slamming the boot of the car closed.

And then, without so much as a backward glance at his nephew, Uncle Vernon got back into the car.

Within seconds, he was gone.

And Harry was alone.

Harry made his way to Platform 9 ¾ as quickly as he could, trying his best not to call too much attention to himself, although Hedwig always drew a few stares. He ignored the pain in his back as he pushed his luggage along on the trolley and was relieved when he finally reached the wall between Platforms 9 and 10. He didn't even hesitate this year. He passed through the portal without batting an eye.

Within seconds, the Hogwarts Express loomed before him. Harry felt a small sense of relief wash over him as he finally saw it. It was nice to be back in the wizarding world, surrounded by magic. He could feel it practically vibrating in the air.

"So what do you think, girl? Should we get you out of that cage?" Harry said, glancing down at his owl.

Hedwig gave a hoot of approval, and Harry moved around the trolley so he could retrieve his wand from his trunk.

It was early. Very few witches and wizards had already arrived on the platform. There was no sign of Hermione or the Weasleys yet, and for that, Harry was grateful. He knew he was going to get bombarded with questions about the summer, and why he hadn't written or responded to any of their letters. He wasn't sure he was ready for all that just yet. He wanted some time to get settled first.

He moved through the train, one arm pulling his trunk along behind him, while Hedwig's empty cage was tucked carefully under the other. Harry couldn't even begin to express how grateful he was that his familiar was finally able to stretch her wings. He couldn't remember the last time his owl had seemed so happy. He only wished that his own spirits could be as high.

Harry sighed as he entered an empty compartment at the back of the train and dropped into a seat near the window. He thought he would be happier, more excited, to go back to school. But after everything that had happened at the Dursleys'...

Harry had never felt more alone.

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out the old photograph. The one with his mother and Snape. He shook his head once more at the bizarreness of it all.

His mother had been friends with Snape.

Snape had been friends with his mother.

And once again, he allowed himself to think on that situation for a little while.

It was certainly easier to think about than the fact that he was now homeless, and would have nowhere to go when next summer came around. Or that despite being the famous "Boy-Who-Lived", he was essentially unwanted and undesirable.

Harry shook his head and focused his eyes back on the picture. He looked at his mother, beaming up at him, the happiness and excitement clear in her smile and in her eyes.

Harry shoved the picture back in his pocket after a minute. Somehow it was difficult to look at just now. But he still kept his hand clutched tightly around his small treasure and the little bit of comfort it offered him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

And finally, his exhaustion caught up with him.

"Harry? Harry!"

Harry mumbled a few incoherent words as he blinked his eyes open.

"Harry?" the voice repeated, as whoever it was gently put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry blinked a few more times before finally recognizing the girl with the long bushy hair.

"Hermione!" he said, sitting up straighter and offering his friend a smile.

Hermione frowned as she took in the appearance of the boy sitting before her. "Harry, are you alright? You look exhausted."

Harry shrugged. "I didn't sleep well last night."

Hermione just stared at him for a minute more, causing Harry to feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Is there something wrong?" Harry asked at last.

"Is there something wrong?" Hermione repeated in disbelief. "Harry! We've all been terribly worried!"

"Who?"

"The Weasleys and myself, of course! You wouldn't respond to any of our letters! We thought something might have happened to you! And then that warning from the Ministry! You know better than to do magic outside of school, Harry!"

"How did you—?"

"Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry."

"The Weasleys. Are they here yet?"

"No. Not yet. Now if you would kindly explain—"

"It wasn't my fault. Honest. There was this house elf and—"

"A house elf?"

"Yes. Now if you would kindly allow me to explain?"

Hermione motioned with a hand for Harry to continue.

And so the boy began telling his carefully edited story about Dobby the House Elf, and the night that the Masons came over for dinner.

Hermione sat thoughtfully for a moment after Harry finished speaking. Uncomfortable, Harry turned to look out the window at the growing crowd of people finding their way onto the platform. There was still no sign of Ron or the many other members of his family.

"What do you suppose he meant by all that?" the young witch finally broke the silence. "Terrible things happening at Hogwarts? Why would he feel the need to warn you specifically? Do you think this is just someone pulling a prank?"

Harry just shrugged as he turned back to his friend. "I don't know. I haven't really given it much thought."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You haven't?"

Harry shook his head, and then turned away again. If he was being honest, he hadn't thought about Dobby in days. There were so many other things...the Dursleys...the picture...

Suddenly, Harry was on his feet and rummaging through his trunk, looking for the small bag that he had kept stored under his floorboard.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, watching Harry as he searched almost frantically through his belongings.

"Here it is," the boy said excitedly, pulling out the small plastic bag and dumping its contents onto one of the seats.

"What?" Hermione repeated.

"They're pictures of mine that got, well—"

"Torn to shreds?" Hermione said, eyes widening at the pile of scraps. "How—?"

"My Aunt Marge's dog, Ripper, got to them," Harry quickly invented. "But a simple repair charm should fix them, right?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied. "Pictures can be tricky, Harry. Are you sure you have all the pieces?"

Harry nodded. "I'm pretty sure."

"Then give it a try."

Harry nodded and pointed his wand at the pile of photograph pieces. "Reparo."

Nothing happened.

"Reparo."

Still, nothing.

"Come on," Harry said, shaking his wand in frustration.

"Are you visualizing what the pictures look like in your head?" Hermione asked. "It's a lot easier to repair a photograph if you know what it's supposed to look like. And if you're missing any pieces, it's going to be nearly impossi—"

"I have all the pieces," Harry interrupted. "I know I do."

Hermione sighed and took her own wand out. "Here. Let me give it a try."

Hermione tried five different repair charms before she was finally willing to concede defeat.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Harry. But since I don't really know what the pictures are supposed to look like—"

"It's fine," Harry said quickly, as he began sweeping the scraps back into the plastic bag, being exceedingly careful not to miss a single piece. "I'll just figure it out later."

"What were they pictures of?" Hermione asked, as she watched Harry carefully place the bag back in his trunk.

"My parents," Harry replied, closing the lid on his luggage and taking his seat once again.

"Oh," Hermione said, understanding dawning on her. "Oh, Harry. I'm sure we can—"

"It's fine, Hermione. But thanks."

A silence fell between them then, and Harry went back to watching the people on the platform.

All the while, he kept a hand clutched tightly around the photo in his pocket.

The Weasleys were very nearly late in boarding the train. Harry and Hermione watched the group of five red-headed children running for the steam engine with their trolleys of luggage, their parents hurrying them along from behind. Harry recognized Ron and the twins in front of the group. And then there was Percy, who was dragging their younger sister along by the hand.

They only just managed to climb aboard the train as the whistle began to blow.

And moments later, as the locomotive began to move, Harry and Hermione's compartment door slid open.

"Harry!" Ron, Fred, and George said in unison.

"Hey, guys," Harry answered with a quick wave.

"Sorry, we're late," Fred said, strolling into the compartment first. "It seems that some people in this family don't know how to pack properly. It caused a bit of a delay."

"You were the ones causing the delays!" Percy exclaimed from the corridor, exasperated, motioning to the twins with his hands. "Forgetting to pack your stupid little prank kits. I'm amazed Mum even let you go back for them."

"Ah, but then it was Ronnie who forgot something," George put in, taking the seat next to Fred.

"Was not! That was Ginny," Ron retorted.

"I wasn't leaving my diary behind," Ginny stated, then hid her face behind Percy with a squeak when she saw that Harry was looking at her.

"I don't have time for this," Percy declared, shaking his head. "Come, Ginny. Let's get you settled, and then I have duties to attend to."

"Yes, we certainly wouldn't want Perfect Prefect Percy to neglect any of his perfect prefect duties," Fred said sarcastically.

Percy threw the compartment door shut then, disappearing from view along with Ginny.

And immediately, all eyes turned to Harry.

"Alright, talk." Ron stated.

"Ronald!" Hermione admonished.

"What our brother means to say, Harry," George stepped in, "is that we would greatly appreciate it if you could tell us exactly what transpired this summer that would cause you to not write or reply to a single letter or invitation of ours."

"And what were you using magic for?" Ron put in.

"It's great to see you guys, too," Harry grumbled.

"Sorry, Harry," Ron said. "It's just, you really worried us, you know? Especially when we didn't hear from you. We were going to come rescue you and everything but—"

"We got caught." Fred finished.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Completely irresponsible," Hermione huffed, arms crossed.

Fred ignored her and continued speaking. "See, Dad's got this car."

"It's a flying car," George put in. "A Ford Anglia. He loves muggle stuff, see. And—"

"Well, we were going to use it to fly to your house and rescue you," Ron said.

"You what?" Harry said, in complete disbelief. He tried to imagine for a moment what would have happened if the Weasleys had shown up on Privet Drive. Would they have seen... everything? He shook his head at the thought. That would have been very, very bad.

"You heard us," Fred said, clapping a hand on Harry's back.

Harry winced and stiffened as the pain in his back flared up at the contact. But thankfully, nobody seemed to notice.

"We wanted to get you out of there," George was saying. "We know life with the muggles probably isn't a picnic. If only Mum hadn't caught us out of bed..."

"She was none too pleased," Fred said shaking his head. "But anyway, you're here now. So tell us everything."

"There's not much to tell," Harry said, shrugging.

"Yes, there is," Hermione interjected. "Tell them about the house elf, Harry."

"House elf?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry answered, as he carefully adjusted himself into a more comfortable position. "Dobby the House Elf."

After Harry finished telling his story for the second time, the other occupants of the compartment spent a while pondering what Dobby could have meant by his warnings. Everyone seemed to agree with Hermione's theory that someone could just be playing a trick on Harry, and they spent quite some time trying to decide who could be responsible.

"Definitely Malfoy," was all Ron had to say on the matter.

Thankfully, by the time lunch came around, the conversation had moved on to other topics. The twins left the compartment to go find Lee Jordan and some of their other friends, and then it was just Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry leaned his head back against the seat as he listened to his friends bicker about study schedules for the upcoming year.

"You're crazy!" Ron exclaimed in disbelief when Hermione handed him a sheet of paper on which she had already outlined a weekly schedule. "Look at this, Harry! Classes haven't even started yet!"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Ronald! Schedules help keep people organized. You would benefit immensely from one." And with that, Hermione stood up to retrieve some books and parchment from her trunk overhead.

"You can't seriously be starting now?" Ron asked incredulously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just want to look over a couple of my summer essays. I'm not sure I quite got my point across in McGonagall's, and I wanted to add another paragraph to Flitwick's."

Ron just shook his head. "You are absolutely mental, Hermione."

"Oh, so all of your homework is just perfect, is it?"

"It's good enough," Ron mumbled, shrugging.

Hermione gave another roll of her eyes before turning to Harry, who had remained silent up until this point.

"What about you, Harry? Did you get all of your work done?"

Harry slowly shook his head. Homework had been the absolute furthest thing from his mind until just now. The Dursleys hadn't allowed him access to his schoolbooks during the summer, and so he had had no way of completing his assignments.

And then after Dobby, he had completely forgotten about his schoolwork altogether.

"I don't have any of the new textbooks, either," Harry nearly whispered, looking down at the floor as that realization suddenly dawned on him.

"What?" Ron and Hermione said together.

"But didn't you get a book list in the post?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "Dobby must have blocked it. Or the Dursleys..."

"Your aunt and uncle would have kept that from you?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know," Harry said quickly, turning away from his friends.

"You didn't get the chance to go to Diagon Alley at all?" Ron asked. "We tried to invite you to come along with—"

Hermione silenced Ron with a look. "He didn't get that letter, remember?"

"Oh, right."

"Don't worry, Harry. We can mail-order your textbooks as soon as we get to school," Hermione said. "We can just share books until they come in. And if you need any other supplies like parchment or—"

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said gratefully. "I appreciate that."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, well, I suggest you spend some time today catching up on your homework. Professor Snape's essay is particularly difficult unless you've read all the supplemental materials he suggested at the end of last term..."

At the mention of Snape, a strange feeling settled in Harry's stomach that he couldn't quite identify. His thoughts jumped immediately to the picture in his pocket, and he wondered if he should show his friends what he had discovered this summer.

"That greasy git," Ron was saying. "Who reads the supplemental materials? Isn't that supposed to be optional reading?"

Harry's fingers clenched briefly around the photograph before he withdrew his hand from his pocket. Perhaps now wasn't the time.

"And speaking of gits," Ron continued with his rant, "What in the world was Dumbledore thinking, hiring that lunatic Lockhart for Defense?"

"Ronald!"

"Lockhart?" Harry asked, curious.

"Yes, Gilderoy Lockhart," Hermione said with a beaming smile. "Oh, he's such a great wizard, Harry. All of the things he's done! Battling magical creatures and discovering new—"

"Oh, but I'm sure we'll get to hear all about that in class," Ron interrupted. "Or we could just read about it. He practically wrote the entire book list."

Harry couldn't help but to smile a little at that as he obtained a quill and some parchment from his trunk that had been left over from last year.

"Alright, Hermione. Do you think you could help me get started with this potions essay?"

By the time Harry finished writing his first essay, it was late afternoon, and they would be arriving at their destination soon.

The young wizard's back ached from being bent over his work for so long, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

"I'm going to go for a walk," Harry announced, getting slowly to his feet. The compartment suddenly seemed too small. It was like being back at the Dursleys', locked in his tiny bedroom.

"Are you sure? We're almost there, Harry," Hermione's eyebrows were once again raised.

"I'll just be a minute. It's a little stuffy in here," Harry explained. He then left the compartment quickly, closing the door behind him.

There were very few people in the corridor, for which Harry was grateful. It meant that he didn't have to suppress a grimace at the pain in his back. He walked a little ways up the train, wanting to stretch his legs a bit before going back to his own compartment to change into his robes.

He was just about to turn back when it happened.

A compartment door slid open just in front of him.

And Draco Malfoy emerged, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.

Harry just closed his eyes and sighed. Of course it had to be Malfoy.

"Well, look who it is," Malfoy said almost immediately, his voice positively gleeful. "Scarhead."

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed loudly while Malfoy stood there smirking at his own joke, and Harry took the opportunity to turn around and head back the way he came.

Only Malfoy wasn't finished.

"Tell me, Potter. What's it like to have such a hideous disfigurement permanently branded to your forehead?"

Harry froze in his tracks, fists trembling at his sides.

And Malfoy continued."What's it like to have to look into the mirror every single day and be reminded that you're nothing more than a freak of nature? A worthless freak—"

It was exactly like being in the backyard at the Dursleys' house, with Dudley taunting him relentlessly. And without thinking, Harry whirled around and threw a fist in Malfoy's direction.

The next thing he knew, he felt something hit his mouth as either Crabbe or Goyle took a swing at him. He somehow managed to duck around the two goons, however, and dove at the now terrified-looking blond boy, who let out a shout of fear as Harry tackled him to the ground.

"Harry! That's enough! Get up! Get up!"

The voice belonged to Percy Weasley, who managed to pull Harry off of Malfoy and into a standing position.

"He's completely lost his mind!" Malfoy was shouting, looking directly at the Slytherin Prefect who had found his way into the corridor alongside Percy.

All up and down the train, compartment doors slid open, and curious students were sticking their heads out to see what all the commotion was about. Thankfully, Ron and Hermione didn't seem to be among them.

"Alright, everybody back inside your compartments! We'll be arriving at Hogsmeade station in just a few minutes!" Percy raised his voice above the crowd. "Go on. Nothing to see here!"

Percy waited a moment for his orders to be followed before turning back to Harry, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"That goes for all of you. Your heads of house will be sorting this matter out."

With that, the Slytherin Prefect ushered the three students in his house back to their compartment, and Percy began steering Harry in the opposite direction. Harry hadn't really gotten the chance to get a good look at Malfoy's face, but he was fairly certain that he'd punched him hard enough to leave a black eye.

Ha. Something hideous for you to look at in the mirror, Harry thought viciously.

"What was that all about, Harry?" Percy asked, sounding both appalled and concerned at the same time.

"Hey, leave him alone, Perce," Fred's head appeared out of a compartment door.

"Yeah, that little git had it coming to him," George chimed in.

"It was reckless and irresponsible!" Percy retorted.

"Sorry," Harry said, the word barely audible.

Percy rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "Here. Let me fix your lip." He raised his wand towards Harry.

Harry's hand went to his mouth, then. There was a small trickle of blood there where Crabbe or Goyle had hit him. He hadn't even noticed.

"No, don't! Leave it!" Fred said.

"What on earth for?" Percy asked, turning to his brother.

"Evidence, of course!" George exclaimed. "What do you think is going to happen if Malfoy appears to be all banged up, but Harry doesn't have a scratch?"

"Snape'll try to pin the whole thing on Harry!" Fred answered without giving Percy the chance.

"Alright, alright! Just...get back to your compartments!"

"We're already in our—"

Percy just let out a groan of frustration and headed off, leaving Harry alone with the twins.

Fred winked. "Better go back and get your robes on Harry."

"And good luck with Snape," George added, before the twins slid their door shut.

Once again, Harry's stomach clenched at the mention of the professor.

But whether it was out of fear or something else, he wasn't quite sure.

A/N: Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Snape will finally be appearing in Chapter 6! I'm really looking forward to writing him. It should be a lot of fun!

-Ailee17