The cherry-red metal of the Hogwarts Express gleamed in the midmorning sunlight, the bustling crowd of students and families seemed smaller, and more subdued than any other that Harry could remember experiencing. The occasional familiar face stood out, though not quite so much as the missing ones did. Whether by choice or- or not, Harry thought grimly, the number of students attending Hogwarts this year was smaller than it should have been.
With a brief shake Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts as he turned to follow Ron and Hermione across the platform and into the nearest open entrance onto the train. Harry ignored the heads that turned and the whispers that started up as he passed by, and Ron slowed his pace so the two were walking together, as if he could shield Harry from the stares.
"Come on you two," Hermione said as she stepped up into the train, a wicker basket gripped precariously under one arm and in the other hand a large trunk that should have been immovable but was made portable through a handy feather-light charm.
"Here," said Ron stepping forward and taking the basket from Hermione. "Let me take the bloody cat, Hermione, you'll end up dropping the poor sod." He had hoisted his own charmed trunk onto his shoulder and carried the basket containing Crookshanks tucked up against his chest. Every so often a forlorn 'mrrrooowl' came from the basket and Hermione smiled up at Ron as he muttered the occasional comforting word to her cat, not aware of the bookworm's warm gaze.
Harry smiled knowingly and followed his two friends as they searched for a compartment. He was only carrying his trunk, and the absence of the once usual bird cage and its inhabitant stung Harry keenly. He was reminded of Hedwig often, and her loss still hurt.
All the losses still hurt, he thought as Hermione exclaimed and led them into a nearly full compartment, the whistle of the train signalling the start of their journey. Inside was Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood and, to Harry's surprise, next to her sat a dark featured boy he recognised as Blaise Zabini. Neville stood up to greet them and Harry again had to hide his shock – the once small, admittedly meek boy was now almost as tall as Ron, and was much broader across the shoulders. Harry grinned as Neville clapped him on the shoulder in greeting.
"Harry, good to see you. How're you doing?"
"Good, thanks Neville – yourself?" Harry asked, sitting next to his housemate and trying not to let his eyes wander over to the Slytherin and Ravenclaw, who looked to be discussing something from one of Luna's books of fantastical creatures.
"Not bad. Bit strange, going back after everything, isn't it?"
Harry nodded – he felt the same way. "It is a bit, yeah. Probably more for you than me – I just sort of feel like I've taken a year off. Well, from school, anyway. Must be weird, going back to Hogwarts after being there last year."
"It wasn't really Hogwarts last year though, was it?" a voice said from across the compartment and Harry looked over at Zabini, who was frowning.
"How do you mean?" Hermione asked, having listened in on the conversation from her spot across from Harry – a book lay briefly unattended in her lap, and Harry recognised it as Hermione's own worn copy of 'Hogwarts; a History'.
"Blaise is right," said Neville nodding. "Nothing that makes Hogwarts Hogwarts was around last year, you know? There wasn't any competition, for Quidditch or for the House Cup. We barely learnt anything, and the- I don't know, something just… Wasn't there."
"The magic," Harry and Hermione said at the same time, and grinned at each other while the others, minus Dean, looked confused.
"Of course there was magic," Ron said slowly, "It's Hogwarts."
Hermione shook her head fondly and went back to the book she was reading, but Dean explained.
"In the muggle world, something being magical... it doesn't mean the same as it does in this world. Because muggles think that magic isn't real, they use the word 'magic' to describe something… I don't know. Unbelievable. Something amazing."
Ron shook his head in disbelief. "But magic isn't amazing- it just... Is."
This time it was Luna who spoke up. "We only think that because we've been surrounded by it for our entire lives. Think about how Muggleborns react when they first see Hogwarts, or a spell. They're captivated by it – to them, magic is all the more special, because it's something new. It's something unknown. I understand that better now," she added a little sadly, her usually whimsical voice serious. "After going so many months without being able to cast a spell or even just hold my wand… You realise how important magic is to us. It's not just a tool we use – it's part of us, of who we are. Hogwarts wasn't Hogwarts last year because the magic itself wasn't the same. It was... tainted."
Everyone was quiet for a few moments as they considered who and what, exactly, had so tainted Hogwarts last year – the sombre mood was interrupted by the door sliding open with a slam and Ginny Weasley entering the compartment.
"Oh, here you are! I've been looking for you guys for ages, budge up Zabini!" Ginny said, plonking herself down comfortably between Blaise and Luna, who both regarded her with a fond exasperation that Harry was startled to see on the Slytherin's face. He risked a glance at Ron, who was watching the Slytherin and frowning. The redhead caught Harry's eye and shrugged – clearly he had no idea why his sister was so comfortable around Zabini either.
Neville stood and gestured to the door. "I'm going to go find the trolley lady, I'm starving. Wanna come, Harry?"
Harry nodded and got to his feet, following the taller boy out the door and leaving the others to their discussion, which had moved on to whether or not the Quidditch tournament would be reinstated this year.
"So what's the deal with Zabini and Ginny?" Harry asked as he followed Neville through the train.
Neville laughed, and Harry thought briefly it sounded a little awkward – but he must have been mistaken because the other boy quickly cut himself off and then spoke.
"Blaise and Ginny? You've got nothing to worry about there, they're just friends," he said, leaning up against the corridor wall so a Hufflepuff fifth year could pass them. She smiled at Neville and he smiled back, and Harry had the strange realisation that Neville was, actually, rather good looking nowadays. He was tall, and he'd grown into his face rather well, Harry thought, his eyes running over his friends once-too-big ears and nose.
"Blaise helped us out a bit last year," Neville was still explaining, and Harry shook himself and tried not to blush at the realisation that he'd basically just checked out one of his mates. "He started giving us information after the Carrows tortured one of the Slytherin second years because he was a half blood. Can you imagine? I didn't think they let anyone but purebloods into Slytherin!"
Harry shrugged.
"Well, Professor Snape was a Half-Blood. So was Voldemort, for that matter."
There was a sudden stillness around them as the few people hanging out in the corridors went quiet, and it took a few seconds for conversation to resume as Harry and Neville finally reached the trolley lady, who was already serving someone – they didn't have to guess who, as the blonde head had turned around sharply at Harry's words.
Though Harry hadn't considered it possible, Draco Malfoy looked even worse than he had at his trial. His eyes had dark purple circles under them, and his thin mouth turned down at the corners. For the first time, Harry could almost see the family resemblance between the boy before him and his God-Father; or at least, how Sirius had looked when Harry had first met him. Malfoy's usually sharp cheekbones were sharper than ever, his face gaunt and almost skeletal. The arrogant spark that once lit the silver irises was gone, and he met Harry's gaze for only a second before turning abruptly back to the old witch who manned the trolley. He thrust a Galleon at her and took the single liquorice wand she was holding out to him, before he turned and walked briskly down the corridor away from the two Gryffindors, his blonde head ducked around his hunched shoulders, almost as if he expected a hex to be thrown his way.
He possibly did expect that, Harry thought as he noted a couple of Ravenclaws sneering at Malfoy as he passed by.
"I almost feel sorry for him," Neville said, his voice quiet. "Not for what he did, of course, but – well." He smiled without any humour and carefully didn't meet Harry's eye. "No one deserves a parent who isn't exactly... there."
Harry nodded silently and clapped Neville on the back, thinking back to the ward in St Mungos where Neville's parents resided permanently, their minds lost forever at the hands of Bellatrix LeStrange.
They turned back to the old witch who ran the snack trolley – she was fussing over the Galleon Malfoy had given her; apparently it was a huge over-payment.
"Ack, the foolish lad's forgott'n 'is change," she said in a nearly indecipherable Irish accent. "'Ere," she said turning suddenly to Harry and pressing a handful of sickles into his palm, "You make sure 'e gets 'is mohnay."
"Oh, but-" Harry said, startled at the suddenness of the exchange – but the witch had already turned to Neville and was asking him what he wanted. Neville shot Harry a baffled look and shrugged as he paid for his chocolate frog and slice of cauldron cake.
Harry sighed and put the money in his pocket, and as he and Neville returned to their compartment he told himself that the silver didn't feel any heavier than it normally would have.