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A… Switched Chance
7. All aboard!
Harry looked blearily at the silent, red form of the Hogwarts Express, motionless in the faint morning mist, drops of dew still glistening here and there on its surface.
Never in all his years had he arrived so early. The locomotive was still and quiet, the platform grey and empty. It was almost sad, he thought.
But alas! Julia and David had been so excited and nervous and overall impatient, and with Hermione – who'd been staying with them for the last couple weeks – up and about hours in advance and efficiently keeping him focused on getting ready, they'd managed to get there much, much earlier than warranted.
Perhaps it was ok, though.
'She' glanced over at the jet of black hair bent over the trunks for a last-minute inspection, mingling with Julia's brown curls, and smiled a little.
It was clear that the Grangers needed to feel at least vaguely in control: that, he guessed, was the whole point of reading everything about the wizarding world they could get their hands on and go over the lists of 'what Hermione needs' time and time again. In David's words, 'be prepared for anything'.
If being early at the station made them feel a little better about their little girl going off to another world entirely…
And if he were honest with himself, he was glad they all had a bit of 'extra' time together before goodbyes, with no worries of lateness and forgetfulness and the million and one little delays that made the 1st of September in the Weasley household a total chaos.
He sighed. He'd come to like Julia and David and didn't really want to leave them so soon.
But more than that… he was truly happy his friend got some more time with her parents.
He felt horribly guilty towards her, possibly even more than at first. Hermione was plainly delighted at every opportunity to do something with either of them. He couldn't really understand what it was like for her, to be a stranger for the people she loved and knew so well, but it made him uncomfortable. It was clear to him at least that she missed them badly.
Anything that allowed the three of them to get a little closer was good in his book, even if it meant getting up at quarter to five and repack four times in as many hours.
At least David and Julia – especially Julia – had taken to 'Harry' straightaway, after the initial misgivings.
Harry suspected their kindness was born of their worries. He'd had clear proof that Hermione got her brilliant mind from them: it had only taken them a couple meetings to assess 'Harry' as in need of care and support against his neglectful, possibly abusive guardians.
Harry had silently crept downstairs one night in mid-August, after he'd been gently shooed to 'her' room, and overheard them talking with a friend of David's from college, who'd become a barrister.
He'd felt his heart swell with confusing emotion when he'd realized they were asking about options for taking 'Harry' away from the Dursleys.
The barrister's advice had not been comforting.
"If he's still there, after what you describe as years of neglect, it means that either it isn't as serious as you claim…"
"They kept him locked in a cupboard!" had exploded Julia with blazing indignation. "How is that not serious enough? He told me he'd never slept in a bed before…"
The barrister had looked a bit shocked, then uncomfortable. "Teachers are trained to spot this kind of abuse. If he's still there… someone's keeping him where he is."
"What?" The appalled question had come shouted from both the Grangers in unison.
The barrister had grimaced. "Bribes would be my guess. The guardians paying to keep everything quiet, so they don't risk jail-time or loss of reputation. Maybe they even like having him there to pile abuse on. A scapegoat of sorts, you know? To take their frustration out on without stressing the family bonds… Happens..." he'd trailed off.
The Grangers were horrified.
"Sadly, unless you have a tight case, with lots of sound evidence… well, given the situation, trying and bettering the child's life would probably be a more likely option than getting him away."
"But, but…"
"Look, you said he got accepted to boarding school, right?"
"Yes, he… he won a scholarship," said David hiding his discomfort at the lie, though Harry thought it wasn't that far from the truth.
"Well, he's clearly smart then, he'll survive. He'll be out of their hair nine months out of twelve. Perhaps he can stay for summer program or something. If not, maybe stay at a friend's?" he'd suggested hinting heavily.
The Grangers had looked both disappointed and determined.
After the barrister left, they'd found 'her' sitting on the stairs, 'her' face grim. They'd scolded 'her' a bit for eavesdropping, but she'd ignored them.
"I want to invite Harry over," she'd said quietly, forcefully.
They'd exchanged a sharp glance, then calmly nodded.
And 'Harry' had soon found himself happily ensconced in their guest bedroom.
Harry sighed and put those reflections out of his mind. At least he'd managed to keep his promise to Hermione, to get her out of Privet Drive…
David came up behind 'her' and put an arm around 'her' shoulder. "Nervous, Princess?"
Even as 'she' smiled at Hermione's dad, Harry considered the question.
Truth was, he wasn't. Nervous, that is. He wasn't sure why, but he felt relaxed and confident despite knowing all too well what was waiting for them in the next few years – starting this very coming Halloween.
Or maybe even sooner, if someone (Dumbledore, or Snape, or whoever) caught up with the Switch.
Nevertheless, he wasn't nervous, though 'she' gave the standard 'just a little' reply to David's query.
He wondered if it was because the last month had been so serene, so enjoyable in his tranquillity. A long, much needed string of happy summer days, filled with ice-creams and laughter and lively discussions about everything and anything. A never-ending stream of good moments.
He could in all honesty say that the last few weeks had been among the best of his life, ranking right up there with the summer at the Burrow before sixth year and the weeks at the Leaky Cauldron before third.
He would be hard pressed to choose a winner between those two: the long, peaceful days spent playing two-a-side Quidditch in the Weasleys' orchard - he and Hermione against Ron and Ginny - or lazing about within the confines of the Burrow's garden, goofing off with Ron in the warm sun; and the exciting, heading freedom of roaming around Diagon Alley with Galleons tinning in his pockets, browsing the most fascinating wizarding shops in the world.
What was sure, was that the fun-filled afternoons with the group of muggle-raised future classmates, the movie nights and Sunday trips with Julia and David and most of all, the many many hours shared 'just being kids' – for once! – with 'Harry' were just as good, if not even better.
Thinking back, only two moments stood in stark relief against the warm sun-golden haze.
The first had been precipitated by an admittedly silly prank of his. He'd used some clear tape to fix the spray trigger of the kitchen faucet in such a way that when Hermione had turned the faucet on, the handle had sprayed uncontrollably, mildly soaking her/him. Okay, so it was a bit childish, but she'd been the one to drench him with the pipe hose the day before in the first place!
Be that as it may, the prank had resulted in his dripping wet, furious green-eyed friend hissing crossly "Harry!"
He'd frozen in mid-laugh when he'd caught the puzzled look on David's face, who was coming from the garden right at that moment.
In a rush, he'd covered for the slip awkwardly: "I know your name is Harry!" 'her' voice was squeaky "It's just fun to rile you up. You should see your face when I call you Greeneyes!"
David had stifled a laugh and tried to reprimand his 'daughter' without much success. Truth was, Hermione's parents were absurdly grateful at seeing their 'daughter' having fun with someone her age at long last and were more likely to encourage pranks rather than give her a scolding.
Thankfully while teasing them David had only seen 'Harry's' back, and thus hadn't noticed the way Hermione's eyes had widened in realization and fright, or her sheepish embarrassment at her slip.
Later, the two of them broached the topic again, in private.
They had been lazing in the backyard, lying under Hermione's favourite tree, ostensibly reading through their Defence textbook (which, in hindsight, Harry recognized to be very good; he could easily work out something with it if/when they started up the 'Defence Association' to counter Quirrel's poor teaching methods, as Hermione was already hinting rather insistently that they should).
He'd stifled a smile at noticing again how 'he' was torturing 'his' lower lip, in a gesture that was so utterly Hermione, it looked out of place on his own face.
'He' didn't look about to say what was on her mind, though, so Harry had decided to get the ball rolling himself.
"Hermione, spit it out", 'she'd' said.
"But that's just it!" 'he'd' burst out. "You can't call me Hermione! Someone's bound to start asking questions – questions we don't want – we can't afford –"
"Slow down!" 'she'd' exclaimed a bit alarmed.
The green-eyed boy had peered at 'her' with worry: "Harry, how are we going to keep up pretence? We…"
Harry had cut 'him' off: "You are Harry now. You are perfectly right, you can't go around calling me…"
"I know!" had cried 'he', "that's my point exactly! You saw what nearly happened earlier…"
"Yeah, it was a close call, wasn't it?"
The boy had shut his book brusquely and exploded in a harsh whisper: "We're bound to slip up, Har… I mean, Herm… oh, it's just too strange! We can try and be careful but…"
Harry had dropped back on the grass, staring at the sky and tree above them, absently twisting a lock of 'her' brown hair with a finger, and he'd let his mind wander.
It was a problem, yes. A serious problem to be sure. He just didn't know what to do about it. Hermione was right, they were bound to slip up.
He couldn't very well stop thinking of his best friend as 'Hermione', could he? And thinking of her as 'Harry Potter'? Preposterous. Much as he'd sometimes felt (or wished) that the Boy-Who-Lived was a different person entirely, in the end he was Harry no matter what.
He'd watched his best friend worry 'his' bottom lip with 'his' teeth without really seeing 'him'.
They couldn't use their real names, that much was obvious. A muggleborn girl introducing herself as 'Harry', now that would have been… interesting. He grimaced. Almost as gossip-worthy as the Boy-Who-Lived claiming his name was Hermione. Merlin, the stories Rita Skeeter could concoct…
Using each other's name according to their appearance was perhaps sensible but, clearly, too risky. It had been a close call earlier and Hermione was right, they couldn't afford uncomfortable questions. They needed a safer, more reliable solution.
What then?
He'd stared in the distance, barely aware of his silent friend nearby, as lost in thought as he was.
It's not like they could come up with completely different aliases, they were too well known for that. And how would they justify it?
Besides, he'd never been very good at coming up with names (the earlier, pathetic 'Greeneyes' being proof enough of that). Not to mention that time on the Knight Bus when he was on the run and he'd stolen a friend's name – he just couldn't seem to lie convincingly under pressure.
He almost chuckled as the memory of Snape's face when he'd presented Ron's Potion book to him the previous year rose in his mind. Roonil Wazlib indeed! 'Oh, but, sir, it's my nickname…!'
He'd sat up with a jerk. "That's it!"
The boy next to 'her' had started. "What? What's what?"
Harry had giggled: "What's what?"
The boy had scowled. "Harry!..."
"No, not Harry. You must call me something else."
"Like what?"
"Well, we'll have to come up with good ones… let me think…"
"Good what?" 'he' had cried exasperated.
Harry had smiled wickedly: "Nicknames, obviously."
'She'd' watched 'his' eyes lit up in understanding, then enthusiasm. "That's brilliant!" 'He'd' breathed. "We should find something completely new… something fitting… it should be easy to start thinking of the other in those terms… and we wouldn't slip up anywhere near as much…"
Harry had settled back contentedly, aware that now, the brilliant mind currently in Harry's body could see everything and work out all the necessary details.
It had always been like that after all. Harry's intuition and Hermione's analysis. What a team!
He carefully skirted any thought of the last, unfortunately missing part of the Golden Trio.
"The main problem as I see it," had said Hermione a while later, "is that we'll have to justify the sudden use of nicknames to everybody else. My parents might not be difficult, we are eleven after all, we're not required to make perfect sense to adults…"
Harry had stifled an incredulous laugh at 'his' matter-of-fact tone and 'he'd' unflappably ignored 'her'.
"…but what about the group? How can we just up and start using nicknames they haven't heard before? Especially since we've officially just met… we don't know each other enough to come up with something appropriate…"
"Well, we could try with something to do with our appearances…"
"Like Greeneyes?" 'He'd' asked scathingly, making 'her' wince.
"Maybe not then," 'she'd' mumbled.
"The best thing would be to take the nicknames from a book we both like, or something of the sort. That would explain everything… I mean, we've been getting to know each other, and we discovered we both like that one character… you see what I'm getting at?"
"Like Star Wars?" had asked Harry, still busy lazily counting the sun beams through the tree branches.
The boy had smirked. "All right, that might work… Leia."
The brown-haired girl had gasped outraged: "What?"
"Well, Dad already calls you Princess, does he not? It fits!"
"B-but that's a girl's name!"
"So?"
'He' had ignored how 'she' had spluttered and blushed. "I don't want a girl name!" 'She'd' cried.
"Hum… You… well, I don't know how to say this but… Harry, you are a girl. Hum. Might remain one for a while too…" 'he' had ducked 'his' head, red with embarrassment. "Consider, Harry!..."
'She' had scowled at 'him' a moment, then, struck by a sudden thought, had smirked back: "If you say so, Skywalker."
The boy had groaned, though really, 'he'd' gone looking for that one. Still, there was such a thing as going down fighting, apparently: "You can't call me that, every Muggleborn would recognize the quote, it's much more evident than 'Leia', and then we would be continuously explaining the whys and wherefores and someone might even work out the parallelisms between the Jedi hero and the Boy-Who-Lived and…"
'His' babbling had been to no avail.
"Well I shall call you Sky then!" Harry had happily ignored the dark gaze 'her' companion was bestowing upon 'her'.
The second episode was far more serious and had left them with a bitter tang in their mouth that Harry could still taste days later. It was probably the closer thing to an actual altercation they'd had in months.
The topic? Why, Ron Weasley.
"He left."
Silence.
"He left," he'd repeated in clenched tones.
He hadn't meant to sound quite so… lapidarian. But damn it, he was angry. Furious!
Hurt.
Betrayed.
And Hermione's voice had always been perfect for bossiness and now, he was Hermione. And 'she' was going to use 'her' new body to the fullest.
"He left, Sky," 'she'd' repeated, even more strongly. "He left us in the middle of nowhere when we needed him the most."
"But…" Hermione had been upset, but Harry wasn't going to budge on this.
"I don't want him in my life, Sky."
'He'd' gasped, shocked. "You don't mean this!"
Problem was, Harry did.
"He made a mistake! Everybody makes mistakes!" 'His' voice had acquired a shrill tone that Harry hadn't known his body could achieve.
"Wasn't the first one, though, was it?" 'She'd' cut 'him' off snidely. "Triwizard Tournament rings a bell?"
'She'd' watched his previous body wince, but hadn't relented. "Remember when he put a rat before your friendship?"
"Yes, well, you chose a broomstick over me!"
'She'd' ignored 'him', mainly because 'he' was right.
"Remember how prejudice he is? Against everything even remotely connected to Slytherin?"
"Well he kind of has a point…"
"No he doesn't, and you know it!"
"Leia…"
"Remember how prejudice he was against Remus?"
'He'd' fallen silent, 'his' green eyes full of anguish.
'She'd' insisted: "Remember Lavender?"
Sky had scowled.
He had to admit that that was a low blow. But it had driven the point home. He hoped. He didn't really want her to keep on badgering him until he had to give in and tell her the real reason he didn't want to befriend Ron again…
Sky had dropped gracelessly on the sofa that day and stared morosely out of the window, letting the matter drop but refusing to talk about anything else at all.
In the no longer so silent station, Harry leaned into David's encouraging hug and sighed, going over the damn argument in his mind. Again.
It wasn't that he didn't understand.
He too would miss… the Weasleys… but as usual he discarded that line of thought hurriedly. Better not think of Ginny at all.
Still, the welcoming red-heads were his family, at least in his mind, and part of him was already mourning their loss.
The Twins and their pranks and their wonderful way of always cracking the right joke at the perfect time.
Mrs Weasley's cooking and her fussing and her scolding and her hugs and even degnoming, seriously.
Mr Weasley and his enthusiasm for the silliest things and his reliable smile and his tweaked muggle 'toys'.
Oh, yes, he would miss the Burrow, and Percy crossly demanding 'silence', and Bill and Charlie making tables fight in the garden, and even the ghoul in the attic banging on the pipes when the cosy house was too quiet.
But mourning was better than…
Than…
Argh!
He knew, just knew, that even if – if – they went and befriended Ronald Weasley and reformed the Golden Trio… his – no, her! – role in it would necessarily be different. And he wasn't sure he could take it.
Watching Ron goofing off with 'Harry' and remain on the sidelines, because they loved Hermione but didn't share guys' talk with her. Watching the Twins teach 'Harry' the fine art of pranking and have to act prim and proper because Hermione wanted to be a prefect. Watching Mrs Weasley mothering 'Harry' and not 'her', because 'she' already had a mother after all.
Watching…
Watching Ginny pine on 'Harry'…
God, maybe she would even come and ask for advice on how to get 'him' from 'her' – she had from Hermione the previous time around…
Merlin he felt like screaming!
Not Ron. He pleaded silently time and again. Hermione, please understand. I can't take it…
But he never voiced it. And she wasn't likely to understand this on her own.
He remembered the quiet whisper that had come from the sofa that day. "He is your best friend…"
He'd pretended that he hadn't heard, but he wanted to scream: 'He was, yes, but now he wouldn't be, because he'd be yours!'
A few families were starting to populate the area now, giving it a more animated feel, though it was still a far cry from the jumble of noises he'd always associated to Platform Nine and Three-quarters.
Harry gripped David's hand tightly, surprised at how comforting it was.
A ruckus from the direction of the trunks brought them back towards Julia and Sky.
The two were trying to load the trunks in a compartment and Hedwig was kicking up a fuss. Actually Harry was inclined to define it a royal tantrum.
'She' ran a hand through 'her' hair (a habit from his previous life he couldn't seem to break) and smiled a bit at how short it was.
'She'd' finally worn out Hermione's resistance by constantly bitching about how unmanageable it was and simultaneously made Lavender shine with elation by asking her help in choosing – and getting – a 'trendy' haircut.
'She' shook 'her' head and moved to calm his beautiful owl down. He really didn't know why he was surprised at her grouchiness, he should have expected it.
The problem, Harry knew, was Archimedes – as Hermione had called her barred owl (it seemed Hagrid stayed true to himself… Harry was both happy that Hermione got a present from the friendly half-giant, and deliriously happy that he'd got to Hedwig first).
Harry wasn't sure why David had collapsed in helpless chuckles when he'd heard the name. He himself had just looked at Hermione blankly. Later on, she'd explained it was the grouchy and sarcastic pet owl of Merlin in a muggle movie.
Well, grouchy it was for sure. Harry still didn't get why this should warrant a chuckle every time the name was mentioned, much less push David to say Who who? What what? at random intervals around the owl.
Judging from 'his' discreet rolling of eyes, neither did Hermione.
For some unfathomable reason however, Hedwig loathed Archimedes. It was surprising, because she'd even tolerated Pigwidgeon and that tiny ball of chirpiness would have tried the patience of a saint…
It took a while to settle the owls and the fussing made him miss the arrival of a bouncing Justin, accompanied by who they'd quickly learned was the Finch-Fletchley's Nanny, her hands full – literally – with Justin's five and six year old little brothers, who managed the impressive feat of making more noise between them than the rest of the Platform altogether, frantically hooting owls included.
From then on, more and more people arrived to crowd the area and one by one all of their muggleborn friends trickled in, shouting greetings at each other and loudly proclaiming their awe at the now faintly humming scarlet locomotive and their excitement at finally leaving for a magic school.
They quickly gathered in a cluster, sharing chatters and jokes and commenting on everyone they saw around them.
Harry and Sky would automatically meat each other's eyes whenever they recognized someone from their past future, feeling as if they were sharing a private joke.
Harry kept 'her' eyes out for a certain adventurous toad, though. 'She'd' set himself a specific goal for the coming train ride, and Trevor was a key part of its success.
Finally, despite the growing confusion and chaotic comings and goings, 'she' spotted Lady Longbottom's hat, stuffed vulture and everything.
Signalling Sky, who, as prearranged between them, distracted the others with some funny tale or other, the agile girl slipped towards the old Lady, deftly dodging students, trunks, pets and assorted obstacles.
'She' almost laughed out loud when the wayward toad practically jumped in 'her' hands. Perfect!
Lady Longbottom was berating Neville for forgetting something, so Harry decided to generously rescue their once and hopefully future friend from her grasp instead of waiting.
"Excuse me?"
They both startled, turning to 'her'. Neville's Gran arched an eyebrow, clearly not pleased by the intrusion.
'She' sketched a curtsey, mentally thanking his foresight in getting Julia to teach 'her' how to do it properly. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Madam, but…" 'She' turned to Neville; "is this toad yours, by any chance?"
"Trevor!" cried the boy delighted. "Thanks, where did you find him? I hadn't even noticed he was gone!"
"Oh, Neville!" sighed his Gran, shaking her head dejectedly. Harry had to fight down the laugh at seeing the stuffed vulture's wings flap feebly.
"It's alright, I saw him jump out of your pocket, thought you might get worried if he went missing," 'she' told him with a friendly smile. "My name is Hermione Granger, though a lot of my friends call me Leia. And you are… Neville? Did I get it right?"
"Y-yes… N-neville Longbottom," he answered nervously. "Why would they call you Leia? It's not a shortening of Hermione, is it?" He seemed bewildered.
'She' shrugged. "No, it's a nickname… it's from a movie," 'she' explained.
Neville looked lost.
'She' giggled: "You look like I do when someone mentions flying broomsticks or… or centaurs, I don't know…" 'She' smiled widely "I guess you're wizard-raised?"
Neville nodded, looking a bit intimidated, but Harry wasn't deterred. "Cool. I didn't even know about magic until Professor McGonagall came with my letter, but it's all so exciting, you know? Are you a first year too?"
"Y-yes…"
"Oh, good! Do you want to come meet my friends then? You can sit with us if you like. Or do you already have a group of your own? We're all muggle-raised though, I hope that's not a problem…"
Neville frantically shook his head. "N-no! I-I mean yes! I mean…"
Harry kindly put a hand on his arm. "It's ok. Take a deep breath. I know I talk too fast, Sky's always harping on me for it. I'm sorry I confused you…"
Neville smiled a little, apparently relaxing. "You talk fine. I'm just a bit clumsy is all. A-and it's ok to be Muggleborn. I mean, it doesn't matter. I mean… i-it's cool, too. Can I really sit with your friends?" he asked hopefully.
Harry slipped 'her' arm under his and cheerfully exclaimed: "Come on! They'll love to meet someone from an actual wizarding family… May I introduce you to our parents, Madam?" 'She' added, belatedly remembering the presence of Neville's Gran.
The old lady looked very pleased and gave 'her' a regal nod: "You may, Miss… Granley?"
Harry smiled. "Granger, Madam. This way!" and 'she' dragged Neville through the jumble of people and luggage.
As 'she' was introducing the new boy to the group and they sorted themselves out of introductions, three girls came up to them.
"What's this I hear about a compartment of firsties?" merrily asked a pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails that Harry instantly recognized as Hannah Abbot: she hadn't changed much over the years, he idly thought, nor had Susan Bones who was smiling next to her. The third, he couldn't place.
"I'm Hannah, and these are my friends, Susan and Daphne," said Hannah. Huh, Daphne who?
No matter, they were all welcomed cheerfully, as was none other than Seamus Finnigan, who somehow tripped and crashed from behind into Dean, who scrabbled about trying to steady himself and only managed to drag down Justin, who was helping Lavender up the train step and made her lose her balance and fall with a shrill cry on poor Susan, who was unable to stay upright and dropped on top of the Irish boy who'd started the whole disaster, so that they all ended up sprawled on the floor and shouting crossly at each other, while everybody around them laughed themselves silly.
They kept laughing and chatting merrily all through the complex undertaking of arranging themselves in a compartment despite the shortage of space (they ended up stuffing all their luggage in one and claiming the next for themselves, happily sitting on the floor as well as the seats).
Later, when the train was speeding along the green countryside, after cycling through families, wizarding games and sweets, the conversation predictably turned to the Hogwarts Houses.
Harry found 'herself' scowling in annoyance at Neville's self-deprecating words about 'not being brave enough for Gryffindor'.
The fierce look in the eyes of a fifteen year old, injured and facing the Cruciatus at the hands of a deranged psychopath who'd destroyed his parents already, yet roaring defiantly "DON'D GIB ID DO DEM, HARRY!", flashed in his mind and he sat up sharply.
"Neville, what is bravery?" 'She' asked out of the blue, knowing reassurances wouldn't work right now, but determined to make the other boy see his point.
Neville looked at the expectant girl in confusion. "Huh?"
"What is bravery?" Harry asked again, patiently.
Neville opened and closed his mouth a couple times, then darted a pleading look around the compartment, clearly hoping for some help from the others, who'd fallen quiet watching the exchange.
Most looked completely clueless, but Sky's piercing emerald eyes showed that 'he' had an answer.
"Bravery is the quality of spirit that enables you to face danger or pain, without showing fear," Sky said in the silence.
Harry bit back an unfriendly comment about answering questions correctly being such a deeply ingrained habit in Hermione that she could clearly not suppress the urge, even when it was clear he was trying to make a point to Neville; then he bit back another one about sounding like a damn thesaurus; then he turned back to Neville once more.
"Bravery means getting up again after you fall. It means going on anyhow even if you're afraid or embarrassed. It means doing what you're afraid to do, just because it's right to do it. It means standing up to your opponents, yes, but it also means standing up to your friend if what they're doing is wrong. Sometimes bravery is doing something dramatically dangerous and spectacular, true, but a lot of the time courage is just the little voice at the end of the day that says 'I'll try again tomorrow'. Even if you're embarrassed, or dejected, or fear you'll never manage... courage is getting up and trying anyway. I think you have that kind of bravery, Neville. I think you're plenty brave enough for Gryffindor!"
Neville looked astounded. Sky was half-smiling.
All of the others looked like they didn't know how to breach the silence, until Seamus let out a low whistle and declared mockingly: "Wow... do you give out sweets, too, along with pearls of wisdom? Because I, for one, know what I prefer to get in that case...!"
All of the boys (except Sky, who was rolling 'his' eyes) cheered loudly at that, so much so that a prefect peeped in to check if everything was all right, making them all burst out in roaring laughter.
Hermione wondered if it was wrong of her to pretend being worried about her trunk just so her mum would take the time to examine it again with her.
The fact was, she missed them so badly.
More than she would have expected to, truth be told.
She'd never had any qualms spending her holidays with the Weasleys, even ditching her parents outright (what she wouldn't give, now, to go skiing with them…) and she'd erased their memories of her with very little hesitation.
Sure she'd had good reason and taken comfort in that. Sure it had hurt. But in the end she hadn't thought much of it… she hadn't been bothered by the idea of remaining alone at all (though to be honest, she knew she would still have Harry and Ron).
Now however… perhaps because she couldn't take them for granted anymore, perhaps because she felt like she'd been replaced – though of course she couldn't blame them, or Harry for that matter – but… seeing them with Harry was a constant, dull ache in her heart.
She found herself constantly trying to steal some time with them with the flimsiest excuses, up to and including helping with the household chores she used to hate.
Of course, she couldn't complain about her situation much.
She'd been rescued from those three a lot sooner than she'd imagined, for starters. And hadn't that been an adventure in and of itself?
True, she'd worked for it… when her parents had come to pick 'him' up for Justin's party, she'd made sure to drop some carefully thought-out, excited comments on how those three had been so scared of Hagrid that they'd given 'him' an actual bedroom.
As she knew she would, Julia had pounced on that titbit and gently coaxed more out of 'him' with careful questions.
Even if she expected it, though, Hermione had still felt fierce pride and love at her parents' immediate concern and care for a child in need, even if 'he' was virtually a stranger to them.
She had tried her best to give her mother enough information to prompt her to act while still remaining true to Harry's distaste in talking about himself. It had come out as a very awkward talk, but she felt it was worth it: whether she managed to Switch the two of them back or not, her parents would make sure 'Harry' didn't remain in Surrey one day more than was necessary, next summer.
And in the meanwhile…
'He'd' been sent to open the door one morning and 'he'd' come face to face with… well, her own face, and behind that, her parents smiling grimly.
They'd barged into the Dursleys' household with saccharine, overbearing politeness and David and Julia had remained downstairs to completely overwhelm Petunia and the gaping Ball of Lard with plans for the rest of summer that those three would get absolutely no say in; while 'Hermione' had practically dragged 'him' upstairs, sweetly demanding to be shown 'his' room and packing up everything with swift efficiency.
Then, Harry had completely taken her (and judging by their expressions, her parents too) off guard when 'she'd' pretended to 'recognize' Mrs Figg's house and had insisted in visiting the old lady 'who'd helped her so'. Hermione hadn't even realized Harry had told her parents about the Apparition mishap.
Her best friend had hurriedly muttered to her in mid-voice that it was better Dumbledore was informed of 'Harry's' whereabouts, before a national search was called and scared the Grangers for good. Well, she could see the sense in that, she supposed, but it was still awfully rash!
She'd felt positively terrified inside while she watched 'Hermione' charmingly chat with the old Squib, boldly calling attention to the incongruities in their situation.
'Oh, what a coincidence it was, that her new friend lived so near where she'd accidentally ended up' and 'wasn't it brilliant, that 'Harry' had accidentally crashed into her in the bookshop? Why, they might never have met otherwise…' and 'Harry was coming to stay with her for a few days, wasn't that fabulous?' – what was Harry thinking?
Mrs Figg had looked like a gaping fish for most of the visit, rendered speechless, Hermione guessed, by the rather unlikely situation and by the lively girl's charming ways.
'He', for 'his' part, hadn't felt up to much beyond petting the various cats that seemed to have taken an instant liking to 'him'; 'he'd' barely managed to stumble through the rightful 'shock at finding out my babysitter is a witch (well, a Squib, but still) yet has never told me that I'm a wizard, and a famous one at that'.
Mrs Figg seemed to be really embarrassed by that, so 'he'd' limited 'himself' to regarding the old lady sadly with soulful eyes. She was pretty sure it had worked to make the poor woman feel horribly guilty anyway.
Her parents had been properly grateful for her help and had promised to keep in touch, since the old Squib was part of their daughter's new world but unlike most others under such label, did have a phone.
Mrs Figg had winked at 'Hermione' and whispered "Best of both worlds, see?" making Harry laugh.
They'd taken tea with the old lady and her many cats, then left without any major happening, much to Hermione's relief and surprise.
And so she'd spent the last fortnight of summer in her own home, with her parents nearby, and with her best friend to boot.
Which was brilliant, no matter how strange it was to see said best friend with bushy brown hair – now fashionably short, courtesy of Harry's impatience with tangled locks and Lavender's style-related exuberance – and prominent front teeth. Or how hard she found to remember not to go to her own bedroom rather than the guest room at night.
She sighed, glancing around the as of yet deserted platform, trying to distract herself from the knot of worry twisting in her stomach. Thankfully her nervousness was interpreted as excitement, because she was too preoccupied going over everything that might go wrong in the next few days to bother concealing it.
Her dad was hugging Harry… no, Leia. They had agreed on nicknames and she should really start making an effort to think of her best friend as 'Leia' – and, most importantly, as a girl.
She thought she might be able to do that; thinking of herself as a boy, now that was quite harder!
She was still startled every morning when Harry's emerald eyes looked out at her from the mirror!
Julia got 'him' to start loading the trunks on the train and that – as she should have known – marked the start of yet another Hedwig-tantrum. Honestly, what did that blasted bird have against her Archimedes?
She left Har- Leia nauseatingly cooing to the spoilt owl and concentrated on greeting Justin who'd just arrived, accompanied by as big a production as two hyperactive little brothers could contrive.
Platform Nine and Three-quarters slowly filled with increasingly more frantic families, who unknowingly cooperated in turning the grey, silent area in a jumble of colourful things spread everywhere – trunks, cages, suitcases, chests, bags, packages, loose clothes and a thousand other things – and a cacophony of the most various noises.
'He' couldn't help smiling widely as one by one all of the other members of their little group arrived and 'he' started to eagerly take part in the chats that sprang up all around 'him'.
'He' kept a covert eye out for red-heads all the time.
She knew Harry didn't want to meet them… she couldn't understand why, but he'd been most adamant.
The icy gaze did not suit her chocolate brown eyes at all, mused Hermione as she recalled looking at herself from Harry's body and feeling uneasy.
He'd gone on and on about Ron being untrustworthy. It filled her with sadness to think that her generous, loving best friend could keep a grudge like this.
So Ron had abandoned them. Okay. Undeniable. He had left.
But one, there had been extenuating circumstances – she was sure that thrice-damned locket had something to do with his cruel words.
Two, they hadn't made it easy for him to come back: they had been on the run, after all, and she'd performed their security spells herself, she knew how powerful they were; so how could Harry blame him for not returning? Granted, she had planned in detail how to make him pay (dearly!) when he got back; but she'd never doubted he would, indeed, come back eventually.
Three, they had all lost faith in each other at one point or the other – or got so angry that they almost felt their friendship wouldn't survive, yet they'd always got through, so why was this time different for him?
And finally… he couldn't seriously think of 'punishing' this Ron – eleven year old, rather insecure, definitely tactless Ron – for the mistakes (whether big or small) of his grown-up counterpart? There was no way she'd accept this!
She couldn't understand Harry at all; not on this issue.
She hadn't approached the subject again after a rather tense discussion, but she still felt it hanging over them.
It saddened her that such a rift existed between them, but… Harry wouldn't budge, and she couldn't accept.
At least it was mostly up to her to fix things. After all, it was 'Harry' who had befriended Ron the first time – she'd come in only later. Well, 'Harry' would befriend Ron once more, if not on the train then after they were Sorted and sharing a dorm, and Leia would just have to live with it.
Hermione blinked, realizing she'd been staring at her best friend for a while without realizing it, and that 'she' was now signalling 'him'.
She sighed. Right. Operation Get Neville. She scowled, irritated: how was she supposed to 'distract' everybody, pray tell? And why on earth was Harry so keen on befriending Neville if he didn't want Ron? If he thought she was going to accept a 'replacement', he had another thing coming!
Feeling vindictive, 'he' launched in a lively tale of 'Hermione' getting drenched with the hose pipe over the summer, to the amusement of the boys and the indignation of Lavender, then went on with an adaptation of a prank the Twins had inflicted on Ron (though her version had Harry targeting his bully of a cousin).
'He' had them all laughing by the time 'Hermione' finally came back, Neville and his Gran in tow. Lady Longbottom surely made an impression on all of their parents.
'He' laughed heartily with all the others when Seamus Finnigan literally crashed the party and was delighted when Hannah and Susan joined them too – though it puzzled her that Daphne Greengrass, better known throughout Hogwarts as Queenie Daphne the Icy and, if rumour had it right, Parkinson's greatest competition to the Ferret's hand (and above all, money), was friendly and at ease with a group of obvious Muggleborns.
Was it being Sorted into Slytherin that had changed this lively, funny girl into the cold, arrogant and prissy would-be lady Hermione remembered from her Ancient Runes class?
Before she knew it, they were all ensconced in a compartment that would have been deemed far too small by anyone except a group of friends having fun.
The train ride was rather quiet, or as quiet as ten eager eleven year olds with far too much sugar in their veins could make it, at any rate.
Then Leia surprised her with 'her' little lesson on the meaning of 'courage'. 'She' was really serious about befriending Neville, apparently.
Hermione kept covertly observing her friend, wondering about him, and Ron, and Neville, and what was going on in Harry's head, while the others dealt with the bewildered prefect, who soon resorted to threaten them with horror tales of Peeves to get them to quiet down. Poor boy. He clearly wasn't suited to his badge, she thought.
If she hadn't been paying attention, though, she would have missed the alarming glint that Leia's eyes acquired listening to the prefect and the speculating glances she cast Terry's way. Her friend was plotting something, she just knew it. What, though… it was anyone's guess.
Oh, well. She would find out… probably just in time to get dragged along into whatever side-effects the plan would surprise Harry with…
In the meanwhile, she had her own personal 'goal for the train ride' to accomplish.
'He' cleared 'his' throat to gain attention and started: "So I've been thinking long and hard…"
"Did that hurt?" quipped Seamus.
Sky smiled sweetly: "Actually, no. I have good practice, see… been doin' it all my life…" and 'he' stuck out her tongue childishly.
"Oooh… good one, Potter!" exclaimed Daphne as the group dissolved in laughter once again.
"Here's what I think," 'he' stressed the word to – hopefully – get the others to listen. "There are ten of us, right? So it's rather unlikely that we'll got Sorted all in the same House."
Everybody sobered. A few looked worried or uncomfortable, a few shrugged unconcernedly.
Susan pointed out: "Well, we wouldn't even want to. After all, some of us have different wishes for their Sorting."
Sky nodded. "Okay. But what I was thinking is… we shouldn't let this come between us."
Daphne frowned. "What do you mean?"
Leia, who'd caught up with her plan, answered swiftly: "That even if we're in different Houses, we should all remain friends anyway!"
There was a chorus of 'Of course!', 'Well, obviously!' and 'No problem!' but Daphne's sceptical tone overcame them all: "That might not be so simple. As far as I know, House rivalries are serious business."
Neville added: "Yeah, the other students won't let us stay friend, I'm afraid…"
Leia asked coolly: "And we care about what they think why, exactly?"
Neville blushed, but Sky noticed that Justin's passionate diatribe about 'friendship overcoming all obstacles' didn't appear to be very convincing to the others.
Time to try her idea then. "Actually, I think there's a way to stay friends and see each other regularly without anyone interfering", 'he' said.
Now they looked interested.
"Really? What?" asked Hannah eagerly.
Sky smiled: "A club."
'He' sat back on 'his' seat smugly, watching them process the idea.
"What, like the Charms Club you mean?"
"Something about sports!"
"Charms Club? What's that?"
"God no, not sports! That would be so horrid!"
"There's the Quidditch House Teams already…"
"I heard of it from a friend of mine, they meet up and research weird Charms, funny or useful, that have fallen out of fashion…"
"I don't mean Quidditch, I mean some proper sport!"
"Like what? How can a Charm fall out of fashion?"
"Why don't we do a Fashion Club instead, that would be fantastic!"
"Would a Club even be allowed? We're just first years..."
"Quidditch is a proper sport! Quidditch is the best sport!"
"Who the hell would be interested in fashion?"
"Well, I guess it's a matter of trends…"
"Football is ten times better!"
"What do you mean, it's not interesting! Of course it is!"
A shrill whistle put an abrupt end to the mishmash of conversations-bordering-quarrels.
Everybody stared at Leia, who smirked back undauntedly. "Order! Order!" 'She' called importantly, miming a Judge hammering the sound-block to silence an unruly bunch in the courtroom.
The general chuckling relaxed the atmosphere, so Sky attempted to go on. "All right, it's clear we need to come up with something that everybody will agree upon, but at least are you ok with the idea?"
The 'Yes!' was unanimous.
"Then", took over Leia, "we should all think on this and prepare a proposal, then after the first day of class we meet, say, in the Library and we'll vote one! What say you?"
"Perfect!" they all agreed.
Only Daphne remained unconvinced. "Are we sure we can do this? Won't people make our lives difficult because of it?"
Terry and Justin cried outraged that nothing was going to stop them from hanging up with their friends, but Daphne merely shot them a cold and cynical look. Maybe Queenie the Icy was already lurking in her after all, thought Hermione.
"Don't worry, Daphne," 'he' said. "I looked it all up in the Hogwarts Rules and Regulations. All we have to do is inform, inform mind you, not ask permission or anything, our Head of House that we're joining such-and-such Club. They can only stop us if they can prove that the stuff we're doing is dangerous."
She had, in fact, looked it up. There was a little more to it than what she related, but the essentials were all there.
Daphne appeared impressed. "You looked it up? You're full of surprises, Potter!"
Sky caught Leia's mirthful eye and quickly diverted 'his' gaze, to avoid bursting in laughter. You have no idea, Queenie.
"So… we're doing this?" asked Lavender sounding a bit uncertain.
"Yes," answered Leia firmly, and everybody smiled.
It was a cheerful bunch of kids who went to meet Hagrid on the tiny, dark Hogsmeade platform, led straight to him by the confident gait of Leia and Sky.
Other first years, looking far more nervous and a bit lost in the cold night air, trickling joined them, beckoned by the half-giant's booming welcome.
Down the slippery, steep path they tripped and stumbled, stifling laughter and curses in equal measure, and Hermione marvelled at how different everything seemed from her first time, when nobody spoke much and there was only nervousness, sniffles and dark, dark trees.
Then the narrow path opened suddenly onto the edge of the great black lake and Hermione gasped with all the others, awed.
Turrets, towers and barbicans of the vast, familiar castle were all dotted with sparkling windows, enchanting and welcoming under the starry sky.
She felt so amazed.
So what if she'd seen it before?
Hogwarts was still breathtaking!
A/N: Acknowledgments.
"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow," is a quote by writer and designer Mary Anne Radmacher.
Archimedes is Merlin's familiar in Disney's The Sword in the Stone.
Edit: It has been pointed out to me that the original name of Princess Organa is 'Leia'. Huh... I guess 'Leila' is just in the Italian version (without the 'l' it does sound a bit odd to me after all). My apologies - I've corrected the mishap, and many thanks to luvsanime02 for telling me! ~Luna