Harry stood with his hands in the pocket of his jeans on the bustling platform of 9 ¾ and looked around. The platform was full of students and parents that were saying goodbye, some hugging, some hanging out of the window of the scarlet steam engine talking. It was loud, with cats mewing in their cages and owls hooting mingling with the babble and laughter of the people on the platform.
Harry sighed and walked to the back of the train, levitating his trunk behind him, and blatantly ignored all the stares and whispers, the leather of the jacket he was wearing creaking as he moved. It had been Sirius jacket and he had found it in the wardrobe in an old room at Grimmauld Place. He thought it fitted him really well and enhanced his now broad shoulders. His hair was tied up into a messy bun, leaving his lightning bolt scar out in the open. He had put up glamour to hide his pointed teeth and new horns but had choiced not to put glamour over the scar on his face, so use to see it now on his cheek; he didn't mind it at all and didn't really care if anyone saw it.
He passed some first years Huffelpuffs, who looked up at him with anxious glances. Harry had always seen himself like just one of the other students amongst the crowd before, as he had always been on the shorter and smaller side and hadn't really stood out from any other student, but now he felt like he was towering over everyone else, a head taller than maybe some of the older students. Had first years always been this tiny?
He boarded the train and found a compartment, the last one of the train, levitating his trunk up in place, sat down, grabbed his book, and starting to read. He was supposed to go to the prefect's carriage, but as he had no interest in being a prefect and was planning to turn over his badge as soon as they arrived at Hogwarts, he didn't really care to do prefects duty and having to go around the train to meet with all the other students. It had been bad enough trying to convince Azoth that he didn't need him to accompany him on the train and to instead meet him in the castle. Harry had grown quite tired of being followed everywhere by the sarcastic demon, like some troublesome shadow, and liked the thought of some hours by himself. He didn't really want to be disturbed by anyone really but didn't bother to put any wards on the compartment, as he thought that would just be too suspicious for a sixth year.
The first part of the train ride was completely uneventful and Harry was left mostly alone, only the door was opened only once by a girl with wavy blonde hair, but at the sight of Harry, she quickly mumbled sorry and closed it again. Then, halfway in he heard familiar voices outside the compartment.
"He must be here somewhere on the train, Ron", said a female voice that he recognized as definitely his friend Hermione's.
"Yeah, I know but we looked everywhere and this is the last one", said a male voice, Ron, glancing in through the window of the compartment door. "And he is not in this one either, just some other bloke".
Harry sniggered but didn't look up from his book, comfortably leaning back in his seat and one leg propped up on the other. The door slid opened and there stood his two best friends, a girl with bushy brown hair and the other, a boy that was long and gangly, with red hair and a lot of freckles.
"Excuse me?", Hermione asked uncertainly. Harry's face broke out in a grin and looked up from his book.
"Hello, Hermione".
Hermione did a small dubbel-take, stared, then blinked, then took a sharp breath and said "Harry?"
"Hey. Nice to see you again, how has your summer been?"
"HARRY!", Hermione shouted and rushed forward to him tightly. "Where have you been? Are you ok? What happened to you this summer? Where were you all this time? Why haven't we heard from you?". She said this very quickly and all in one breath.
Suddenly Ron seemed to finally catch on and said "Blimey mate, is that really you?"
"Who else would it be?", Harry said grinning.
"Harry…", Hermione said looking at him with a concerned face "What happened to your face?". They both sat down opposite him.
"Oh, this?", Harry and pointed at the scar on his face "fight".
"Bloody hell, Harry!", Ron exclaimed
"Why would you get into a fight? You could have been really hurt!" said Hermione
Harry just shrugged.
"So mate, where have you been all this time?", Ron asked, looking expectant
"I couldn't stay at Private drive anymore, so I left.", Harry said simply
"Yeah, we know that mate, but where?"
"Oh, here and there"
"Harry", said Hermione seriously "You shouldn't just have left without telling anyone, at least the order. What of your protection?"
"Don't need it", said Harry "Haven't you read the papers? It was all a sham that Dumbledore put too keep me from my true inheritance".
"I don't believe that", said Hermione shaking her head. "Dumbledore would never do that. He cares about you".
Harry snorted. He knew exactly how much the old geezer cared about him. "He doesn't care crap about me, Hermione. If he did, he would have told me about a thing or two, like Sirius is innocent, which he knew, or the content of my parents will", he said coldly.
Hermione opened her mouth to argue but before she could, the door of the compartment slid open and three people stepped inside, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas.
"Hey guys", said Dean and waving his hand. "How was your summer?"
"Fine", said Ron shortly and looking a bit annoyed that they were interrupted.
"Did you read the prophet?", asked Seamus, sitting down beside Ron. "You think it is all true that they say? You know about Dumbledore?".
Harry laughed. Of course, the content, mostly about how Dumbledore was a manipulating old man or him being missing, dead, or just plain insane, was the topic of the year.
"What…", Seamus began but then stopped abruptly as he realized who had been laughing. His mouth fell open.
"Blimey, Harry", said Dean. "Is that really you?"
"Yeah", said Seamus "What have you been eating and where can I get some? You are huge!"
Harry laughed again. "I guess that I hade a little bit of a growth spurt this summer", shrugging his shoulders again
"A little? Doesn't look like so little to me!", said Dean beaming
"And some training", Harry added
Now Neville, who had sat quite so far observing the conversation, asked "training? What kind of training?"
"Running, lifting weights, dueling…you know, the usual kind of training".
"But from who? You have been gone for months and we haven't even heard from you once?" said Hermione sounding frustrated
"Private", Harry said simply.
"Why won't you tell us what you have been up too, mate?", asked Ron
"Look, I can't, ok? I already told you, it's all very personal and I won't discuss it with you".
Before anyone could ask anything else, the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.
"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom and Harry P-Potter," she faltered, as her eyes met Harry's and she turned scarlet. She was holding out two scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, Harry and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.
"What is it?" Ron demanded as Harry unrolled his.
"An invitation," said Harry.
Harry,
I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.
Sincerely, Professor H. E. F. Slughorn
"Who's Professor Slughorn?" asked Neville, looked perplexedly at his own invitation.
"New teacher, probably," said Harry. "Well, shall we?"
"But what does he want me for?" asked Neville nervously, as though he was expecting detention.
"Really Neville?", said Harry amused. "He must have heard of you coming along to the ministry. Why shouldn't he invite you?"
Neville's cheeks turned red.
The corridors were packed with people on the lookout for the lunch trolley, and Harry missed his invisibility cloak, just to avoid all the annoying staring, which seemed to have increased in intensity even since he had last walked down the train. Every now and then, students would hurtle out of their compartments to get a better look at him. The exception was Cho Chang, who darted into her compartment when she saw Harry coming. As Harry passed the window, he saw her deep in determined conversation with her friend Marietta, who was wearing a very thick layer of makeup that did not entirely obscure the odd formation of pimples still etched across her face. Smirking slightly, Harry pushed on.
When they reached compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn's only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn's welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.
"Harry, my boy!" said Slughorn, jumping up at the sight of him so that his great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment. His shiny bald head and great silvery mustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat. "So nice to finally meet you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"
Neville nodded, looking unsure of himself. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down opposite each other in the only two empty seats, which were nearest the door. Harry looked around at their fellow guests. He recognized a Slytherin from their year, a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes; there were also two seventh-year boys Harry did not know and, squashed in the corner beside Slughorn and looking as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there, Ginny.
"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked Harry and Neville. "Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course"
Zabini did not make any sign of recognition or greeting, nor did Harry or Neville: Gryffindor and Slytherin students loathed each other on principle.
"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other? No?"
McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.
"and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether?"
Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking gave a strained smile.
"and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!" Slughorn finished.
Ginny grimaced at Harry and Neville from behind Slughorn's back.
"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cozily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on Licorice Wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things. . . Pheasant, Belby?"
Baby started and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.
"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles," Slughorn told Harry and Neville, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"
Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste to answer Slughorn he swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke.
"Anapneo," said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.
"Not...not much of him, no," gasped Belby, his eyes streaming.
"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy," said Slughorn, looking questioningly at Belby. "I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!"
"I suppose. . . " said Belby, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him. "Er. . . he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about. . . "
His voice trailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to McLaggen instead.
"Now, you, Cormac," said Slughorn, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting Nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"
"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was," said McLaggen. "We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour-this was before he became Minister, obviously-"
"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?" beamed Slughorn, now offering around a small tray of pies; somehow, Belby was missed out. "Now tell me. . . "
Harry felt like he had been invited to an exclusive country club. Everyone here seemed to have been invited because they were connected to somebody well-known for their accomplishments or influential, in some way. Zabini, who was interrogated after McLaggen turned out to have a famously beautiful witch for a mother (from what Harry could make out, she had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold). It was Neville's turn next: this was a very uncomfortable ten minutes, for Neville's parents, well-known Aurors had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and a couple of Death Eater cronies. At the end of Neville's interview, Harry had the impression that Slughorn was reserving judgment on Neville, yet to see whether he had any of his parents' flair.
"And now," said Slughorn, shifting massively in his seat with the air of a compere introducing his star act. "Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!"
He contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, "'The Chosen One,' they're calling you now!"
Harry said nothing but staring to dislike his new professor. Belby, McLaggen, and Zabini were all staring at him.
"Of course," said Slughorn, watching Harry closely, "there have been rumors for years. I remember when, well, after that terrible night, Lily, James, and you survived and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary"
Zabini gave a tiny little cough that was clearly supposed to indicate amused skepticism. An angry voice burst out from behind Slughorn.
"Yeah, Zabini, because you're so talented, at posing". Harry snorted and had to quickly cover his mouth with his hand to hide that he was laughing.
"Oh dear!" chuckled Slughorn comfortably, looking around at Ginny, who was glaring at Zabini around Slughorn's great belly. "You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw this young lady perform the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex as I was passing her carriage! I would-n't cross her!"
Zabini merely looked contemptuous.
"Anyway," said Slughorn, turning back to Harry. "Such rumors this summer. Lord and emancipated minor. Of course, one doesn't know what to believe, the Prophet has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes. But that disturbance at the Ministry and you were there in the thick of it all!"
Harry just nodded but still said nothing. Slughorn beamed at him.
"So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond. You were there, then? But the rest of the stories, so sensational, of course, one doesn't know quite what to believe it, this fabled prophecy, for instance.."
"We never heard a prophecy," said Neville, turning geranium pink as he said it.
"That's right," said Ginny staunchly. "Neville and I were both there too, and all this 'Chosen One' rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual. "
"You were both there too, were you?" said Slughorn with great interest, looking from Ginny to Neville, but both of them sat clam-like before his encouraging smile. "Yes. . . well. . . it is true that the Prophet often exaggerates, of course. . . " Slughorn said, sounding a little disappointed. "I remember dear Gwenog telling me, Gwenog Jones, I mean, of course, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies…"
He meandered off into a long-winded reminiscence, but Harry had a distinct impression that Slughorn had not finished with him and that he had not been convinced by Neville and Ginny.
The the afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about famous witches and wizards Slug-horn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts. Harry quickly got bored and wanted to leave, but every time he tried, Slugg-horn roped him into the conversation again. Finally, the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight.
"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on Nogtails. Harry, please stay behind for a few minutes. The rest of you, off you go, off you go!"
As he pushed past Harry into the darkening corridor, Zabini shot him a filthy look that Harry returned with a raised eyebrow. Ginny and Neville followed Zabini out of the compartment. When everyone had left, Slughorn turned to Harry beaming and sporting a big smile.
" Harry!", he said, putting a fat arm around Harry's shoulders "I just wanted a private word. I heard about you disagreeing with Dumbledore, but the man does have your best interest at heart. I just wanted you to know that if you ever need advice or guidance, I am happy to help", Slughorn said smiling
" Thank you, sir", said Harry calmly. "I will keep that in mind"
" Good, good! Remember, you can come to me for anything, my dear boy!" said Slughorn patting him on the arm. "Now, off you go to change for school"
Harry only nodded, turned, and walked out of the compartment. Walking down the corridor, he reflected on the last couple of hours and his short conversation with Slug-horn. He wasn't sure if he liked the man, being very pompous and too concerned about ot-hers social status. Also, the conversation indicating that he really wanted to get within Harry's good graces, offering his advice to a student he never met before and clearly being concerned with his relationship with Dumbledore. There was clearly also a bigger motive behind the concerned teacher-act, there usually always was when it came to him and his "fame".
He continued down the corridor but stopped outside one when he heard some familiar voices. He stopped right out of sight of the compartment window and listened.
"He invited Longbottom?", asked the familiar drawl of Draco Malfoy
"Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there," said Zabinis's voice indifferently.
"What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?", said Malfoy. Harry didn't hear an answer but could imagine Zanini shrugging.
"Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at the Chosen One," sneered Malfoy "Well, I pity Slughorn's taste. Maybe he's going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slug-horn probably hasn't heard I'm on the train, or…"
"I wouldn't bank on an invitation," said Zabini. "He asked me about Nott's father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he'd been caught at the Ministry he didn't look happy, and Nott didn't get an invitation, did he? I don't think Slughorn's interested in Death Eaters. "
Malfoy forced out a singularly humorless laugh. "Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher. "Malfoy said angrily "I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what's it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?"
Harry raised an eyebrow at this, intrigued.
"What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?" said Pansy indignantly.
"Well, you never know," said Malfoy "I might have-er-moved on to bigger and better things. "
Harry could almost hear Malfoy smirking, but could also something else hidden in his tone of voice. The same kind of uncertainty that he had heard in Borgin and Burkes was concealed in his words.
"Do you mean…", said Parkinson
"Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days" Malfoy was saying with false confidence. "I mean, think about it, when the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O. W. L. s or N. E. W. T. s anyone's got? Of course, he isn't, it'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown".
"And you think you'll be able to do something for him?" asked Zabini scathingly. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"
"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for" said Malfoy quietly.
There was an awkward silence and then Malfoy said "I can see Hogwarts. We'd better get our robes on."
Harry heard people moving and trunks being opened and quickly moved down the corridor towards his own compartment. With a final lurch, the train came to a complete halt. Harry just reached the compartment when Ron and Hermione were on the way out.
"Harry! Where were you?", Hermione said looking relieved
"Got hold up by Slughorn"
They walked off the train and to the carriages, drawn by the skeletal Thestrals. Harry liked the bewinged horses since he had got used to them last year, being able to see them. Ron and Hermione however, hadn't been.
"Bloody hell", said Ron when he saw the Thestrals.
"Come on, let's find a carriage", said Harry
They walked up to one, seeing Neville climbing in and sitting beside Luna Lovegood.
"Hello, Harry," said Luna
"Luna, hi, how are you?"
"Very well, thank you," said Luna. She was clutching a magazine to her chest; large letters on the front announced that there was a pair of free Spectrespecs inside.
"The Quibbler still going strong, then?" asked Harry, who felt a certain fondness for the magazine, having given it an exclusive interview the previous year.
"Oh yes, circulation's well up," said Luna happily.
Harry climbed in the carriage, with Hermione and Ron following.
"Harry, you are not in uniform?", Luna then said, eyeing Harry's Leather Jacket, as the carriage lurched forward and started moving "Nice jacket!"
"Yeah, didn't have time to change and thanks!"
"Your welcome", said Luna warmly
"Harry…", started Hermione, but got interrupted by Luna.
"Are we still doing D. A. meetings this year, Harry?" she asked, detaching a pair of psychedelic spectacles from the middle of The Quibbler.
"No point now we've got rid of Umbridge, is there?" said Harry. Neville looked a little bit crestfallen.
"Oh", he said. "I liked the D. A. and I learned loads with you!"
"I enjoyed the meetings too," said Luna serenely. "It was like having friends"
Harry laughed. That was such a typical Luna thing to say. Ron and Hermione looked a little bit uncomfortable. That made Harry laugh even more.
It also looked like his friends weren't done with their earlier conversation on what he bein up to this summer, but stayed quiet for now.
They changed the subject to O. W. L. Results. While Neville recited his grades and wondered aloud whether he would be allowed to take a Transfiguration N. E. W. T., with only an "Acceptable," Harry watched him without really listening and thinking about the conversation he overheard by the Slytherins.
Malfoy had been talking about some job set out for him, but what? And was he really not coming back next year? Did that mean that he was becoming a death eater and working for Voldemort? And what was he after when Harry saw him in Borgin and Burkes? Harry stared out of the window, watching the road slowly creep on.
"Harry? Are you listening to me?" said Hermione
Harry turned his gaze back to the others.
"Sorry.."
"Wrackspurt got you?" asked Luna sympathetically, peering at Harry through her enormous colored spectacles.
"What?"
"A Wrackspurt. . . They're invisible. They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy," she said. "I thought I felt one zooming around in here. "
She flapped her hands at thin air, as though beating off large in-visible moths. Harry and Neville caught each other's eyes and started laughing.
Soon they could see the towers and windows of Hogwarts up ahead.
