CHAPTER ONE

King's Cross was unreasonably crowded. Harry tried to discern how much of the presence was Muggle and how much Magical, but had been in such a hurry that he hadn't had ample time to study the occupants of the station. When he pushed through Platform 9 ½ (which neighbored the 9 ¾ platform that he was so familiar with), he became suddenly aware that much of the Wizarding population appeared to be here, seeing various Aurors and Healers off as they began their respective terms of study.

He had felt rather awkward thus far in the journey, for out of the corner of his eye he frequently caught Ron and Hermione pulling cutesy faces to one another. It had grown tiresome to feel as though he was continually intruding on a private moment between the two. It also made him ache for Ginny, who had been unable to accompany them due to a crisis at home involving a very pregnant Fleur and an inconvenient lack of chocolate pudding. He didn't quite blame Ginny – Fleur was a nightmare on a normal day. He couldn't imagine the frustrations the Weasleys were dealing with now.

"I still can't believe he's coming with us," Ron grumbled distastefully, scowling at Malfoy through the underside of his eyelashes. "Right foul git, to think he can be of any help to us…"

"He went through the same war that we did, Ron," Harry reasoned, his eyes following Draco. He noticed that nobody had accompanied him to the train station to see him off. He looked unnaturally uncomfortable when he was alone, reminding Harry of moments at Hogwarts when Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be found. "Maybe he just wants to leave his mark."

"Yeah, theDark Mark," Ron muttered. Hermione pinched the fleshy part of his elbow. "Ow! Blimey, Hermione!"

"I thought we all learned our lessons about assuming to understand someone's motives?" Hermione quipped pointedly. Harry did not need to use Legilimency to realize that she was talking about Snape. The guilt still weighed heavily on him when he thought of all the cruel accusations he had made of the heroic professor.

He purposely fidgeted with the hem of his Auror robes and pretended to be occupied with the Spanish family down the tracks. A very pretty girl, likely Harry's age, appeared to be pleading with her mother in her native tongue, trying to calm the sobbing woman's hysterics. She was dressed in Auror robes, as well.

"Tell me again why we need to meet at the bloody train station?" Ron grumbled irritably, clearly enduring some kind of internal battle about the way he was feeling.

"Didn't you read your pamphlet, Ron?" Hermione demanded impatiently, brandishing it from her bag as if to remind him.

"Now why would I bother when I knew you'd do it for me and give me the summary?" Ron asked cheekily, sending a flirtatious smile in Hermione's direction. She blushed profusely.

Harry pretended not to notice, fighting to hide the smirk that threatened to expose him.

"Well," she continued, as though Ron hadn't interjected, "it says that the location from which you will portkey is top secret and highly confidential. And that family members would not be allowed to see you off there."

"It's a bloody portkey," Ron persisted. "Can't they just change it afterwards?"

"Ron, do try to be a bit more cooperative," Hermione pleaded. "Being a disagreeable git isn't going to make a good first impression."

It was when Ron rolled his eyes good-naturedly and sighed in surrender that Harry realized something was off.

"No clever comeback, Ron?" Harry probed suspiciously.

"No point, mate," Ron conceded. "She'll always win."

Hermione smiled brightly, swooping in on him to wrap him in a tight hug. "I'll miss you so much," she murmured into his shoulder.

"Oi," Harry groaned impatiently. "Get a room, you two."

The flicker of amusement and embarrassment went unnoticed by Harry, who was too busy making a melodramatic gesture of shielding his eyes.

"Oh, shut up and come here," Hermione chided, grasping Harry's forearm and yanking him into the huddle.

"Right between me and 'Mione, where you belong," Ron agreed. Harry rolled his eyes and put his arms around them both.

"I can't believe we won't be seeing each other for four months," Hermione blubbered, wiping her face on Ron's chest.

"Oh, 'Mione," he declared with mock impatience. "Don't get weepy. We'll be back before you know it." Harry detected a hint of emotional upheaval hiding in the back of Ron's voice as he tightened his hold on the both of them.

"He's right," Harry agreed comfortingly. "What's four months when we spent a year looking for Horcruxes?"

One of Hermione's sobs involuntarily eked out as a giggle as she pulled away slightly to show her smile.

"Yeah…A year of smelling Harry's dirty socks," Ron quipped. "I get four more months of that!"

"Sod off," Harry chuckled. Hermione's bottom lip quivered as she dove back into the hug.

"I'm going to miss both of you," Hermione amended of her earlier statement, wiping at the moisture that had begun to form in her eyes. Harry planted a kiss atop her head.

"We'll keep in touch, Hermione. And if you would…Keep an eye on Ginny," he pleaded. He knew he need not elaborate further, for Hermione nodded fervently.

"I will."

The soft hoot of the train whistle echoed throughout the platform. Hermione squealed in despair. As Harry caught a hint of the stare that reverberated between Ron and Hermione, he politely pulled out of the three-way hug.

"I'll go get us a compartment, Ron," Harry decided, giving Hermione one last one-armed hug. "Be good," he commanded jokingly.

"I love you, Harry," Hermione squeaked. He knew how she meant it.

"I love you, too," he chuckled with an amused smirk as he stepped toward the threshold. He chanced a glance back at them to see that they were now embraced and swaying on the spot, seemingly unable to let the other go. He smiled a bit to himself as he boarded the train and made his way down the aisle in search for an empty compartment. An older Auror with a misshapen nose stopped him as he began to proceed.

"Name?"

"Potter," Harry reported. "Harry Potter."

"Compartment five," the Auror provided.

"You mean to say we've already been assigned?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Alphabetical. So's to check the roster more easily, y'know."

Harry's shoulders slumped in slight. He knew that this meant he would not be sharing a compartment with Ron for the journey. At least it was only an hour's ride…

He made his way down the passage, counting the gold-plated numbers above each cabin, until at long last he found number five. He slid the door open to get a look at his travel mates.

"Oh, bloody hell," a familiar voice drawled. Malfoy was sitting slumped, quite disdainfully, in the corner of one of the bench seats. "As if Longbottom wasn't bad enough…"

As soon as he had said it, Harry had noticed him.

"Harry!" Neville cried out joyously, standing to shake Harry's hand with vigor. "I was hoping you'd get seated with us!"

"How's it going, Neville?" Harry greeted back with a grin, happy to see that Neville's enthusiasm was as contagious as ever. He followed him towards the bench seat opposite Draco and sat beside him.

"Great!" Neville piped. "Gran was so happy to see me get my acceptance letter, she actually bought me another pet!" He gestured furiously to the tiny barn owl that slept peacefully in the luggage rack. "She said I need to make sure I have proper means of communication."

"That's great, Nev," Harry agreed, feeling a far-off twinge of jealousy as he thought of Hedwig. "What's his name?"

"Her," Neville corrected. "I named her Augustine, after my great aunt who passed last year. You see, she—"

"All right," Malfoy interrupted calmly, brandishing his wand. He was holding it out, handle-first, towards Harry. "Take it Potter. Avada Kedavra me before I have to listen to any more of this rubbish."

"Bad mood, Malfoy?" Harry inquired, though he had to admit that Malfoy's melodrama was as entertaining as ever.

"Listen, Potter," Draco began, turning his body to meet the other two in a rather confrontational stance. "I signed up for Auror's Academy before the Dark Lord fell, when the Ministry was under His control and was recruiting. My father made me. But it's binding, I reckon, and there was no way to get me out of it when the reformed Ministry came calling…Father tried to negotiate…"

"You should be serving with pride," Neville protested seriously. "This is the time that you should be wanting to serve. When there's something to celebrate, and when our generation can be a part of the final movements to put a close on this chapter in history."

Malfoy shook his head dismissively. "When you open your mouth, Longbottom, you might as well be Stupefying me."

Neville turned his head to Harry, arching an eyebrow and shrugging as if to say, 'well, I tried.' Harry noticed over Neville's shoulder that Ron was walking past the compartment with Dean Thomas and Oliver Wood, shrugging ruefully at the compartmental arrangements. Harry waved shortly to him.

"Ron's here, too?" Neville inquired excitedly.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Malfoy muttered miserably to himself, resuming his sulking position in the corner as he stared out the window.

The compartment door slid open once more. The pretty Spanish girl that Harry had seen on the platform was there.

"Compartimiento cinco?" she inquired politely.

"Er, yeah," Harry answered pathetically, recognizing the Spanish word for 'five' and hoping it would be the extent of his need to translate anything.

She exhaled heavily as she flopped down onto the bench beside Draco, as if exhausted. He sneered exasperatedly and attempted to scoot closer to the window.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville greeted amiably, ignoring whatever language barrier may be present.

"Natalia Peréz," she responded. "It's nice to meet you."

She possessed a heavy accent when she spoke English.

"You're not from Hogwarts, are you?" Harry asked, certain that he did not recognize her.

"No, I went to Beauxbatons," she replied. "Much closer to home."

"For the love of Merlin's pants," Draco groaned. "Do we have to talk the entire way there?"

Natalia studied him for a moment before turning back to Harry and Neville, bemused.

"Ignore him," Harry offered. "He's got a perpetual broomstick up his arse."

Neville snorted involuntarily at this. Natalia smiled.

"And you are?"

"Harry Potter," he said.

"Dios mío!" she declared. "Such a pleasure to meet you, at last!"

"You too," he replied pathetically. Neville sniggered.

"I don't think that's what she meant," he muttered loudly.

"You are a legend!" she continued to rave, a look of astonishment clear on her face.

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So, you're training to become an Auror?"

"Yes," she said, seemingly easily deterred from the previous topic. "My father was an Auror, and I've wanted to be like him since I was a little niña."

"Touching," Malfoy droned with a roll of his eyes.

"Malfoy's in a similar boat, you see," Harry began with casual disdain. "Only his father was a Death Eater."

Natalia turned her gaze to Malfoy, scandalized.

"Do everyone a favor, Potter: find yourself a Dementor and faint," Malfoy retaliated.

Harry sighed resignedly. Neville had crossed his arms indignantly and was now glaring in Malfoy's direction. Natalia looked between the three of them, perplexed.

"I can see that it is going to be – how you say – a bumpy ride?"

TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: Just to be clear, as I know some people grow frustrated with OCs, Natalia will NOT become a main character and will certainly NOT be my Mary Sue. That is all!