A very warm thank you to my reviewers- I love you all! Not really any big announcements, except my midterms are fast approaching (gulp) and I'm praying no delays come out of that. Enjoy, my dear readers! And please click on the 'Submit Review' button below when finished- please? Pretty please with sugar on top? Just kidding, but do review if possible!

Disclaimer: (sigh) Must we go through this every time? I do not own Harry Potter.

This is the edited chapter 10. Again, updates are continuously being pumped out by yours truly, so look out for these notes before you read a chapter! If they seem primitive and poorly written, that's because I haven't gotten my hands on it just yet.

P.S. There's no shipping in this story... I don't think, at least :-D That could change, of course. BUT, there are romantic hintings, and if you haven't already guessed they are HG and RHr. Kay? Kay.

It Ends Now

Part 10: "Ambush"

The rest of the summer slipped away quite uneventfully, as July collapsed into August, and August sunk into September. Days passed in leaps and bounds, hurried along by bouts of Quidditch, homework, and some much-needed family time. Before Harry knew it, summer was whisked away by the great enveloping arms of autumn. He often found himself grinning at the prospect of a new school year at Hogwarts, wondering what surprises would be in store this term. Hopefully, dragons weren't on the menu, but Harry thought he might be able to handle a dance or two... The idea got him sniggering, recalling the torments of giggly girls and stuttering first dates. Then he remembered Cho, and how terribly that had ended (at least for him)... and sobered up immediately. There was no time for romance when one was the Chosen One, the teen reminded himself sternly. If he lived past seventh year; if he vanquished Voldemort, then maybe there would be time for balls and courting and... marriage. Harry chuckled at the foreign word, then blushed. Why did every bride he imagine have a shock of red hair? He shook his head of the ridiculous notion. Like the Weasleys would ever-

No. Stop.

Harry sighed, repeating the I'm the Chosen One and I can't have a girlfriend to distract me right now mantra.

Merlin, life sucks.

oOo

The morning of September the first found Grimmauld Place in chaotic uproar.

"Ron, Harry, got your trunks?" Mrs. Weasley shouted inquiringly from in the hallway. Of course, the plump matriarch didn't dawdle in that room for long. She was quite harried, bustling around the manor frantically in search of misplaced robes, books, cauldrons (how Ron managed to lose his was an enigma in itself), and the like.

"Got 'em!" the two called back, lugging the aforementioned chests and other pieces of luggage down the stairs. Harry grunted. His trunk felt stuffed to maximum capacity, and the boy yearned for the ability to perform magic. Only a few more hours... A lightening charm would've saved him so much back pain! The seeker was also discovering that Hedwig and her cage were burdening him down... Ron was lucky he had little Pig! The scarred teen settled on shifting it between arms undecidedly. The owl was beginning to aggravate him slightly; she had done nothing but squawk the whole morning.

"Mum, I can't find my dress robes!" Ginny whined in complaint from the top of the banister. Mrs. Weasley appeared carrying a basket of school robes, freshly laundered.

"Well they're not in this pile, so check your room again. And lower the volume!" she reprimanded, but her heeds were paid no mind. Within minutes, the portrait of Mrs. Black had awakened and the house was filled with her banshee-like threatening.

"Mudbloods and blood traitors! Dirty scoundrels, tainting my house! My Pure-blooded honor!"

The pandemonium in the house only increased as the children tried to talk over the exclamations of the old hag, sparring with one another over missing possessions.

"For Merlin's sake... Arthur, would you kindly SHUT UP Mrs. Black?" Mrs. Weasley asked forcefully. "Arthur?... ARTHUR!"

Mr. Weasley appeared in the hall mere seconds later, mopping his sweaty brow.

"Right on it, dear!" the balding father reassured, hurrying upstairs to accomplish his assigned task. He just barely dodged a red-faced Hermione, who was suffering with her load. She had extra due to her assortment of heavy textbooks she always carried around. Harry and Ron bounded up the stairs noisily to aid her, just as Ginny tottered by with her recovered dress robes and a few other knick-knacks.

"The train's leaving in an hour! Come on, come on, quicker!" Mrs. Weasley screeched, on the verge of panic. She looked out the window and shrieked, her renewed yells taking over where Mrs. Black had left off. Mr. Weasley groaned, wishing there was a way he could silence his wife as well. Unfortunately, no curtain could subdue that woman.

"The Ministry cars are here! Everyone, pack your things into the car and let's GO!" she exclaimed. Harry obeyed immediately; slow death was one of the repercussions of disobeying a hysterical Mrs. Weasley. Everyone knew her wrath was not to be trifled with. He also glanced out the window, noticing the arrival of shiny black cars now stationed outside, on the other side of the street. Of course they were here because of him...

oOo

They reached King's Cross at ten to eleven, the station absolutely overflowing with tourists, travelers, and late Hogwarts students alike. Train whistles blew; people called loudly to each other from opposite platforms in bids of farewell. Harry dearly wished he could just cover his ears and be enveloped in silence, sinking into it like a raindrop does in water.

The small group of misfits, with their excessive luggage and squawking pets, stopped short of the barrier Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Mrs. Weasley ceased their ambling with impatient hand flapping. They all paused, waiting until they could shoot through the wall undetected and unseen. Harry took this time to observe the people passing by, so wrapped up in their trivial travel plans. He felt a little bad for them in their ignorance- who knew another world lay just beyond Platform 9? Or that a brick wall, when tapped right, opened up to reveal Diagon Alley, the wizarding equivalent of London?

Harry shifted now. People were beginning to give them odd, furtive looks. He suddenly realized how foolishly absurd they must appear, especially him with his caged owl going crazy in antsy captivity. An officer approached them, no doubt sharing the same ludicrous assumptions as those around him.

"You lost?" he questioned, thick British accent nearly taking over his voice. Mrs. Weasley gave a warm, plausible laugh.

"Of course not! Just waiting for a friend," she lied earnestly. The officer shrugged, accepting the answer given. He tipped his hat and moved off. Immediately, Mrs. Weasley's face darkened in annoyance.

"Nosy Muggles," she muttered, crinkling her nose. A large throng of tourists had traipsed in front of them, chattering animatedly in a very aimable way. They blocked the witches and wizards from sight, and none seemed very interested in their presence. Harry could hear one asking if Big Ben was nearby, and how long the car ride to see Stonehenge would be.

"Now!" Mrs. Weasley whispered, darting through the barrier and disappearing. Ginny went next, and Hermione followed quickly. Harry and Ron went at it at a run, bolting through in a sensation rather like riding by Floo powder. Harry was always tentative about passing through the wall, as he'd had bad experiences with it before. Smashing headlong into a brick wall was no fun, Harry thought wryly.

It was as if they had entered a world of vibrant color; this world was more real to Harry than the Muggle one ever would be. It was his home; his sanctuary. Harry wished he could enter into conversations around him about Hogwarts, magic, and new spells after so long away from his school. He glanced around, noticing the many familiar faces of those classmates still milling around. However, Mrs. Weasley was ushering them onto the Hogwarts Express, and he was forced to comply with her demands.

The rest of the students slowly paraded onto the train, and soon after the clock chimed eleven. Without hesitation or further ado, the train whistle blew shrilly. Last second students hopped aboard, giggling madly at their antics while pleading the fifth with frazzled parents. Gradually, the station began to pass by as the train starting inching down the track, smoke billowing from the conductor's roof. Harry stuck his head out the window along with the other Weasleys and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley waved furiously.

"Be good, you lot! Stay safe and stay out of trouble!" The last words were more 'death threat' than anything. Ron just rolled his eyes.

"Us? Trouble?" he chuckled. "You'd think we go off chasing basilisks or Sorceror's Stones every year, the way that woman behaves!"

Everyone laughed. They watched the plump figure of Mrs. Weasley- now blowing hysterical kisses- grow smaller and smaller, until she was but a speck on the horizon. The train picked up speed and rounded a corner, where green hillsides invaded their vision. Harry turned his back on the window.

"I'll go get us a free compartment, " he said, preparing to beat those with similar ideas. The train was suddenly fraught with slamming doors and exuberant laughter. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm before he could get out of their propinquity.

"No, no, Harry! Being Quidditch Captain, you're at equal status with prefects!" she stated excitedly. "We have a reserved compartment that you can share with us!"

Ginny, from beside Ron, snorted. "Abandoning me already?"

Harry made to open his mouth, but the red-head cut him off. "Only joking, Harry. S'okay; I promised Luna and Neville my company when you were all gawking at Mum. Enjoy yourselves, oh mighty Quidditch Captain and his prefect minions!" Harry frowned, but Ginny had already winked playfully and evaporated into a cluster of first years ogling their friend's new owl.

"Ron... your sister's-"

"A menace? Tell me something I don't know," Ron sighed, feigning a case of chest pain. "Honestly, I don't understand how either of you can put up with her snide commentary. I've learned it's simpler just to find a few good witty retorts to throw back in her face..."

"Shall we go?" Hermione prompted, when at last Ron had exhausted his list of "suitable-comebacks-to-use-on-dumb-little-sisters". She led them up a couple aisles to a compartment near the front of the train. Harry noticed immediately how comfortable and spacious it was, and grinned at having been deposited in the lap of luxury. It was nice not being cramped against the armrest. He took a seat, looking up at the pair expectantly.

"We just have to perform our duties, then we'll come back, " Hermione chattered, thrilled at the prospect of sharing a private compartment together. Truth be told, last year's odyssey had ended rather badly. Neville's cactus had seen fit to explode puss all over them...

Ron groaned. "Back in a sec, mate," he said before the door shut. Harry directed his attention to the passing scenery, feeling tranquil and content. He contented himself with getting lost in the mirage of colors flickering past the window, currently a lovely shade of viscous periwinkle as they crept over a bridge. The teen was just getting drowsy when the door was flung open, causing a lot of racket as it slid to fully reveal the visitor. Before Harry had even looked up, Ron had thrown himself down on the seat next to Harry, slouching low. Harry, startled, gave a small jump. He'd half-expected Malfoy; the ferret never seemed to let a trip go by without lurking up where he wasn't wanted... Harry told himself he needed to have a talk with the Slytherin about seeking counseling for unhealthy obsessions...

"Jeez," the seeker muttered, but smiled. Hermione entered in a much slower and arguably more dignified manner, then gracefully perched herself across from them.

"I tell you, those first years can't sit still for a nanosecond! We weren't like that when we were their age!" Ron complained loudly. Hermione snorted, donning an air of patience that one associated with toddler handling.

"They're just excited, Ron!"

Ron raised an eyebrow skeptically, but his attention was soon diverted by Harry. The boy was rubbing his scar furiously, visage pinched and wary.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

"My scar," Harry answered softly. "It won't stop prickling." Indeed, the old wound was acting up again, and rather painfully. Harry couldn't help but feel uneasy. Voldemort was happy about something; something was going according to his plan... And that was particularly unnerving, because Harry was benighted when it came to why. He expressed these concerns to Ron and Hermione, and they responded exactly how he expected them to.

Ron went milky, staring at Harry for a few seconds before gazing forebodingly out at the forest whipping by.

"But what's he planning?" Hermione queried nervously, nibbling saturninely on a fingernail. Harry could see her mind whirring, and though the question was rhetorical, he answered anyway.

"I don't know. Whatever it is, it can't be good."

BAM!

The whole train lurched sideways on the track following this gunshot of a noise, and Harry found himself desperately holding onto the seat so as to forgo sliding. The impact seemed to be the breaking point of his nerves- he was suddenly edgy; nervous; panicked. Hermione, meanwhile, let out a scream and Ron sat up straight; alert.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. Chilling screams from farther down the train rent the air, and Harry jumped out of his seat. He was almost to the door when-

BANG!

The world erupted again, and Harry was knocked back onto the seat as the train gave another alarming sway. The boy could just imagine an invisible hand, bent on tipping the Hogwarts Express over and sending it careening off its intended path... Harry stood up again, wand in hand. Hermione grabbed his upper arm, eyes wide and terrified.

"Don't do it... don't go out there, Harry! You don't know what's going on- what if this is a siege by Voldemort?" she pleaded frantically. Harry ripped his arm out of her vice-grip.

"People could be hurt!" he half-shouted.

"But he wants you to come to him! That's how he works, Harry!" Hermione wailed, blinded by tears. "You'll be walking into a trap!"

"I don't care, I've got to help!" Without another word, he pushed open the door and snuck out into the Express' corridor, wand stiff in his fist.

Hermione moaned, fingernails clawing at her face in anxiety. "Oh no, oh no..."

Ron dragged her up and the two followed Harry, coming up behind him. The Boy-Who-Lived looked back, and some reassurance infiltrated his forced composure. His friends were there, right beside him like always... He gave a tiny smile at their show of loyalty, then pressed a finger to his lips. The pair nodded, and all focused their attention on the door leading to the students' cars. Beyond there was panicked shuffling; reverberating moans and grunts. They had no way of knowing until the last moment whether the quarry was to be friend or foe... After a moment's reluctant hesitation, Harry wrenched open the only thing obscuring their presence.

A fearsome scene met the Golden Trio's eyes.

Two young Death Eaters held hostage three extremely scared third years, and they had the whimpering, trembling children backed into the corner. One of the captives, a sandy-haired boy who was in the forefront, seemed to be guarding the other two females with his body. All bore visible battle wounds, ranging from bleeding cuts to an enchantment that made one's legs dance sporadically. A blonde girl was holding close the jerky-appendage and overall smaller one, whispering soothingly in her ear. Harry could still hear faint moans from compartments nearby, and realized with rage that these two devotees of Voldemort had injured other students as well. He surmised it was all in the effort to get to him, but maybe these brave third years (Hufflepuffs, as the emblem emblazoned across their robes informed Harry) had blocked them passage... he couldn't say...

With a rush of perception that took only a second to form, it dawned on Harry how these men had gotten onto the train undetected. Dumbledore wasn't stupid enough that he'd leave his students to journey unprotected, but that didn't account for the Platform itself... and the teen with a lightning bolt on his forehead could clearly see the Hogwarts robes hanging off the shoulder of one of the Death Eaters.

They impostered Seventh Years! Harry concluded grimly. And no one suspected them because no one believed Voldemort foolish enough to send his minions onto the Hogwarts Express of all places...

It was impossible to tell who they were, masks made sure of that, but it was obvious Voldemort hadn't spared his elder members for this mission. No doubt the Dark Lord hadn't much faith in the possibility of success... and for good reason, Harry thought fiercely.

"Impedimenta!"

He heard rather than saw Ron and Hermione fire similarly, though with Expelliarmus and Reducto.

"Protego... STUPEFY!" Two red curses flew at them, cast with formidable agility if the Death Eaters had managed to parry the offending spells as well. As the incarnadine jets sped toward the three, Harry shouted:

"GET DOWN!" From reflexes born of pure seeker skill, Harry lunged at his friends and yanked them to the floor. The Stunning Curses flew by overhead, just barely skimming the tops of their heads. It had been close- too close. The crimson exploded against the door behind them and blew it off its hinges.

Instantly, an altercation between the sixth year Gryffindors and the Death Eaters was engaged. The trio moved into action, darting off in different directions so each individual was harder to hit. Harry rolled into the corner, trying to keep the Death Eaters' focus on him rather than the others. He jumped up, flicking his wand furiously and sending any hex that came into his brain at the dark-robed assailants. Harry heard Hermione alternate between yelling spells and consoling the wounded third years. He noticed a shimmering green mist in front of the kids, and inwardly praised his friend's foresight. Ron, on the other hand, was taking advantage of the Death Eater's divided attention and started firing at their backs. It finally came down to Ron and Hermione facing off against the first servant of Voldemort, while Harry busied himself with the second. Flashes of multicolor lights ricocheted around the room. One just missed Harry, and he had to twist unnaturally to escape it- a green one. The boy gulped, instantly recognizing the hue as Avada Kedavra. Innocent lives were at stake now, and Harry knew he would feel immeasurable guilt if anyone was killed- especially Ron or Hermione. He had led them into this, after all, and the Death Eaters were only here for him. Why else would this ambush have been staged? Harry realized why he'd felt Voldemort's gloating happiness earlier.

One of the Hufflepuff girls, the blonde, suddenly screamed. Harry was yanked unpleasantly from his battle reverie. He glanced quickly to the side, and a red haze of anger and fright descended over his eyes. "Ron! Hermione!"

Hermione was nursing a bad case of fungus sprouting all over her face, and she cried out as the ugly yellow marring her complexion popped welts onto her eyelids, effectively blinding the girl. Ron was on the ground, fighting off a leg-lock. The other Death Eater had gone back to the children, Harry saw in infuriation, and was Cruciating the aforementioned flaxen. She screamed, writhing around in torment and agony as her peers pleaded for mercy.

"Hey, you big dolt! I'm over here! Stupefy! Diffindo!" Harry shot spell after spell at the pair of cronies desperately, barely able to keep track of them as they circled the ebony-head menacingly. Ron and Hermione were forgotten, but Harry trusted (or he hoped, at least) that Ron had enough wits about him to Finite Incantatem his and Hermione's problems away...

One Death Eater advanced on him, blocking Harry's attempts easily, like batting away an irritating fly. Harry soon realized in a wave of anguish that it was futile. The wand of the Death Eater stopped right against his panting chest, pointed straight at the Wizarding World savior's heart.

"Surrender, or the children die! Little blondie first!" he threatened. The second Death Eater trained his wand on Ron and Hermione, who apparently had rejoined the fray. Good job, Ron, Harry spared in praise, proud at his comrade... All eyes were plastered on Harry. He stared down the Death Eater forcing him into this life or death decision, but really, there was no hesitation on Harry's part... He knew perfectly well what his choice would be, but stalling was the only leverage he had.

"Surrender..."

The second Death Eater jerked his wand so it was aimed at the sobbing girl whose life was in question. "Avada-"

"Stop," Harry commanded quietly, drawing down his wand slowly in defeat. There was a crushed look in Harry's emerald orbs; he knew this was it... he'd pretty much just traded his life for hers, but it was going to be for naught... the merciless servants of Voldemort would simply massacre the rest once Harry perished... "I give up; I surrender. Just please, don't hurt her. She's only a child. It's me your master wants." He said it simply; sadly. The little third year began sliding to the floor, trying to muffle a stronger burst of howls issuing out of her mouth. The Death Eaters smiled, exchanging knowing looks of glee and triumph. Hermione gave a distant, choked, dry sob while Ron mouthed words incomprehensibly. Harry looked into the cold blue eyes of the Death Eater confronting him, reminded sickeningly of Dumbledore and how his Headmaster would find Harry's body perhaps hours later, in a ditch somewhere... dead before he even got home to Hogwarts...

"Good boy," the man snickered, in parody of acclamation. "The Dark Lord will be most-"

His words were cut off when the second door panel blasted open on the farther end of the Express. A man stood framed under the rectangular arch, countenance radiating some indistinct aura of power that Harry associated with Dumbledore's anger. His grayish brown hair was whisked to one side, windswept as if the fellow had just sprinted to his destination. His face was somewhere between youthful and old, but there was a rugged handsomeness found chiseled there. Scars from old wounds spoke volumes about his dueling experience, but they were not nearly as gouged as Moody's were. His face shone with vigor, life, and what Harry took as excitement to be fighting in a battle. Much like Sirius used to look, Harry thought sadly. With a magnificent sweep of his wand, the man let loose white light that seemed to pulsate throughout the room. It drew the Death Eater pair towards him, and they begged for leniency, grovelling at the man's feet.

"Please, mercy! Mercy! Don't kill us," one whined, shivering. Harry wanted to snort at their cowardice- surely they'd seen more than enough wrath from Voldemort that this... nameless hero... failed to scare them?

The man's reply was to spit at their feet angrily.

"Wounding students and provoking a fight with defenseless children? Not on my watch," he sneered. His voice was deep, and had an eerie silkiness that almost-not-quite rivalled Snape's. But then again, something in it triggered memories of Lupin, Harry juxtaposed. The man raised his wand.

"No, no! Have mercy!" they moaned, but he paid them no mind. The Hufflepuff who had been under Cruciatus suddenly stirred, trying to get up but instead falling back to the floor. Her classmates rounded on the girl worriedly. Harry frowned; the first Cruciatus was always the worst; it was only after practice (Harry spat the word with disgusted inflection) that one began learning how to endure it. The man, too, also glanced over at the child in concern. The Death Eaters smiled crookedly, and one grabbed the hand of the other, then fumbled in his pocket-

"Sir!" Harry shouted.

But it was too late- with a resounding pop and undulation of air, the Death Eaters had portkeyed back to their master.

"Dammit!" Their brown-haired savior cursed wildly, raking a hand through his hair. He looked over at the trio, all in varying degrees of surprise and physical states. Ron was pale, but Hermione looked sickly- probably aftereffects from the curse, though, Harry surmised. The fungus had given her a canary complexion Ron hadn't fully been able to rid her of...

"You, you, and you," the man said, pointing to each respective Gryffindor. "Get back in your compartment; it's not safe. This is a teacher's order."

Immediately, Hermione had turned around and was beginning to head back through the gaping hole where their door used to be. Ron looked like he was resisting the urge to snicker as he turned, but the Boy-Who-Lived simply scrutinized the male one last time. A teacher?

"Sir, what about the children...?" Harry began. The teacher shooed him onward.

"I'll take care of them."

oOo

The three Gryffindors seated themselves back down in their seats, immediately launching into conversation.

"Who was that man?" Ron wondered aloud.

"A teacher obviously, Ronald, and my guess is for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione responded exasperatedly, fingering her cheek. She glanced out the window, gnawing on her lower lip and caught in reverie. It was bordering on evening beyond the glass, and soon the sun was going to wane into twilight's embrace.

"Probably," Harry agreed, a little after the fact. He too was filtering through his memories of the battle they'd just- luckily- survived. He tried to laugh. "We do seem to be always in need of one."

His attempt at humor died, and Harry sighed. Was Ginny okay? What about Neville, Luna, Seamus, Dean... the list went on. He prayed no one had died (well, okay, maybe Malfoy and his goons wouldn't be so bad, but fat chance of that!); that the Death Eaters had mostly ignored his classmates in their desire to head off famous Harry Potter... He was still feeling edgy, and couldn't stop the shaking of his fingers. Did the Order know? Why hadn't anyone except that teacher shown up? "I'm going to contact Remus."

Harry pulled out the tiny, pocket-sized mirror Lupin had fixed on his birthday a month ago; the one Sirius had first given him. For a wild second, Harry almost reconsidered using it, because that involved magic- and then he laughed. Ron and Hermione stared at him oddly, then exchanged looks- no doubt telepathically betting on his sanity.

"S-sorry," Harry answered of their silent query. His chuckling was already fading away. "I just had a moment of stupidity. Thought for a second I was going to get in trouble with the Ministry for using the Enlargement Charm before we were at Hogwarts... Suppose it doesn't matter, anyway. I've already used enough underage magic to land me in Azkaban for a few years, I'd say."

"You know we're allowed to use magic once we're on the Hogwarts Express, right?" Hermione reassured him, raising a brow as she smiled wanly.

"WHAT!?"

"Yeah, it's in-"

"Hogwarts, A History," Harry sighed, but Hermione scowled.

"No, it's in the Ministerial Laws for Underage Sorcery, line 37," the pedantic replied smoothly, and not without a certain ladling of gloating. "And if you recall, I used magic my first year, and so did Ron... or, well, he attempted to (here Ron shot the brunette a glare). No one came banging down the Express' doors to expel or arrest us."

"Oh yeah."

Hermione just rolled her eyes and pulled out an Ancient Runes textbook, though Harry could see she wasn't absorbing much. Her distracted eyes kept roving back up to the top of the page.

"Maximus." Harry enlarged the mirror to its normal size, then said clearly: "Remus Lupin."

A second later, Remus Lupin's face appeared anxiously in the place where Harry's tense reflection used to be, looking haggard as ever. "Harry?"

Harry wasted no time in telling Lupin what had happened, watching unnervingly as Lupin's face grew darker and more worried with each gruesome detail. He didn't speak until Harry had finished his recounting.

"This is bad, Harry. Very bad. The Order was not informed whatsoever of an ambush on the Hogwarts Express, not even Dumbledore... the wards didn't react at all."

"I think I know why," Harry said hastily, and he told the werewolf about the Hogwarts robes on the Death Eaters.

Lupin frowned. "I'll pass that on; we'll have to fix that err as soon as possible; oversights like that are deadly. Thank God you're alright, Harry, but I need to leave you so I can contact the Order. Stick close to Ron and Hermione. You may not be out of the deep waters yet. Use the mirror if something else happens- anything, you hear me? Order members should arrive soon to patrol the train." Then the mirror went blank, and Harry was left observing his own reflection. He cringed at his shaky pallor, but knew he wasn't the only one- Ron and Hermione looked no better.

No words were spoken the rest of the trip, and nothing else out of the ordinary happened that Harry knew of. The Order must have arrived, and were guarding the train, ensuring a safe final stretch...

But the feeling of ubiquitous anxiety burdened on Harry heavily. Even when he caught sight of the large, looming figure of Hogwarts approaching in the distance, rising from the darkness, he didn't feel relaxed. No one could be truly safe until they entered the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, protected by the teachers and the magical walls that when combined, spelled out sanctuary.

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AngelMoon Girl