"Thanks, Molly," Padfoot said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I sent Remus a letter, but I never heard back, and I can't"-
"Not to worry, Sirius, dear," Molly said in a kind, but distracted way; Ron was calling down the stairs, asking if she'd seen his tie. "Harry's always welcome."
"Mum?" This time, it was one of the twins, not Ron.
"Excuse me," Mrs Weasley said, sighing. She headed for the stairs, then called over her shoulder, "Arthur's outside getting the car ready, Harry, if you'd like to put your things in before the rush." Padfoot checked his Sidekick.
"I've got to head off," he said grimly. "I'm sorry, Harry, I really am; I asked not to work today-"
"It's all right, Padfoot," Harry assured him. Padfoot sighed.
"Try to get me on the mirror tonight? I want to hear about the feast, and about the first years."
"Sure," Harry said.
"And tell Moony we've respected his space for long enough-" They really had, Harry thought; it had been four days and they'd heard nothing. "-and that if he doesn't send me a letter – even if it's just a signed bit of parchment – that I'll be popping out of his fireplace for a chat."
"All right," Harry said, grinning.
"And be careful; hopefully Dobby's just paranoid, but after last year-"
"I know," Harry said, seriously. He took a deep breath and mustered a smile. Padfoot gave him a hug, and then vanished into the fireplace. "I'll be back for you," Harry told Hedwig, who clicked her beak at him, but was probably pleased her cage would be carried properly, instead of balanced on his trunk.
Harry did take Mrs Weasley's advice; he towed his heavy trunk out into the Burrow's garden and Mr Weasley helped him lift it into the car. A few, gently probing questions from Harry revealed that it was indeed the same car Ron had proposed they use to visit Draco, and Harry was still smiling to himself by the time the Weasley children started to bring their trunks out.
Ron appeared with Scabbers' swinging cage in one hand, his trunk in the other, and what appeared to be both Fred and George's brooms draped over his shoulders. "What are you grinning at?" he asked.
"The car," Harry said, relieving him of the rat.
"Harry, your owl's still in the kitchen," Ginny said, out of breath, and struggling with her trunk.
"I'll swap you?" Harry offered, and she smiled gratefully and passed the trunk over. "Do you want me to take that, as well?" he asked pointing at the slim book in her hands.
"No," she said, dancing out of reach, with the book clasped firmly in her hand. "Thanks." And then she turned and ran inside to get Hedwig.
"Did I say something?" Harry asked.
"Nah," Ron assured him. "It's her diary; she doesn't let anyone near it."
"Right," Harry said, thinking of the likelihood of keeping a secret diary while living in the same house as Fred and George. Ron seemed to read his mind, though.
"George tried," Ron said. "Then Ginny stole something from their room and the three of them were in there negotiating for about an hour."
"What'd she take?" Harry asked, amused.
"Looked like blueprints for a shop," Ron said, shrugging. "They're probably trying to work out a secret way into the joke shop in Hogsmeade, or something." Harry snorted.
"Right," Mrs Weasley said, stepping out into the garden with her handbag. "Ron, Harry, Percy-" He was already in the car. "-Fred- no, sorry, George-"
"Ginny," Ginny announced, carrying Hedwig out of the house. Harry noticed Hedwig was – very happily – crunching on an owl treat. "And Fred's just looking for his broom-"
"I had his broom; lazy git made me carry it for him!" Ron said.
"Quiet, Ron," Mrs Weasley said, ushering Ginny into the front seat. "George, go and get him, please. Boys, in you go, that's it. Do you have enough pebbol, Arthur, dear?"
"Petrol, Molly," Mr Weasley replied patiently. "And yes, plenty."
A few minutes later, the twins came back out and clambered into the back seat beside Percy, who sighed but didn't look up from his book.
Despite the fact that they'd left with plenty of time, the traffic in London was awful and Mrs Weasley wouldn't let them – to the displeasure of everyone else – fly to speed things up. They made it to the King's Cross with only a few minutes to spare once they'd parked and unloaded, and then George dropped his wand in the middle of the station and changed the colour of a sign.
None of the muggles noticed, thankfully, but Mrs Weasley, stressed that they were late, and apparently convinced that George had done it on purpose, marched both twins through the barrier herself. Percy strode through after her.
"Quickly," Arthur said, gesturing to Harry and Ron, and then, with a hand on Ginny's trolley to help her steer it, went through the barrier.
"Together, I reckon," Ron said, giving the station clock a grim look; they only had a minute.
"I bet," Harry said, as they started toward the barrier, "that we'll get the worst seats-"
And then that was all he could say because the front of his trolley had hit wall, instead of passing through, and then Harry toppled forward, knocking Hedwig's cage over. Next to him, Ron was sprawled on the ground, clutching his head. All around them, people were staring.
"What the-"
"Bloody hell!" Ron had his hand pressed against the stone barrier, and was staring at it in horror. Harry didn't bother touching it; it had felt solid when his trolley hit it. He picked up Hedwig, who was screeching and flapping her wings in her cage. Ron was righting Scabbers, who'd already gone back to sleep.
"Sorry, shh," Harry said, trying to pat her with a finger. She bit him. Scowling, he set the cage atop his trunk, and followed Ron away from the barrier in the hopes that people would stop pointing. "What do we do?"
"Dunno," Ron said, looking worried. "But we've missed the train." Harry tried to think; Padfoot was on duty in Azkaban, and even if he had his mirror, probably couldn't help them anyway. Moony wasn't answering his post, Tonks was in France, Marlene was working too, or she'd have taken Harry to the station…
"Harry," Ron said, "if we can't get through, do you think Mum and Dad can get back?"
"I'm sure they'll be fine," Harry said. "Why don't we go and wait by the car?" In a minute or so, hundreds of parents and relatives would be coming back through, and Harry didn't like their chances of finding Mr and Mrs Weasley amongst them all.
"The car," Ron breathed. "Harry, we can take the car to school!"
"Then what?" Harry asked. "They'd have to come and get it, wouldn't they?" Ron's face went blank, and then slightly green. No doubt he was imagining his parents at the school, and trying to explain it.
"What, then?" Ron asked. "Unless you've got a car-"
"Kreacher would take us," Harry said, "only I can't call him to the middle of a busy train station." He almost offered to Apparate them himself, but he hadn't apparated in a while, and didn't trust himself not to splinch himself or Ron. And that didn't solve the problem of their pets and luggage. Same went for Harry's broom, which could carry him and his trunk, but not Ron, and not through London where muggles might see.
"How far to yours?" Ron asked.
"Twenty minutes, but we've got trunks, and I've got Hedwig-"
"Maybe we could take the car there," Ron said.
"Or a bus," Harry said. "Only I don't have any muggle- Ron, the bus!"
"Sitting with all your friends, She-Weasel?" Draco asked, poking his head into the compartment.
"You're alone too," she pointed out.
"Not anymore," he said. "As long as you don't mind?"
"No, sit," she said at once. Draco dragged his trunk and Caesar's cage into the compartment. "Your owl's lovely."
"My owl hates me," Draco said flatly, and he did; Draco rarely used him, because he so rarely wrote home, and so Caesar spent most of the school term sulking in the owlery. "Where are the others?"
"I assumed they were off somewhere," She-Weasley said. Her expression was one Draco knew well; that of a person who cared but was trying not to. "I expect they'll come by. Maybe." She bit her lip and glanced past him into the corridor.
She was right in some ways; Granger appeared with her trunk only a few minutes after Draco, chatted with them both for a bit, and then asked after Potter and Weasley. She-Weasley shrugged, but looked worried instead of offended. Draco was feeling very uneasy; he'd had Dobby hovering over his shoulder all morning, telling him to be careful, and that he must remember Harry Potter wasn't safe. Knowing Potter's luck, it was entirely possible that something had gone wrong, before he could even get on the train.
Draco sat with his back to the window, facing the compartment door, watching everyone that came past. At various points of the trip, their compartment had more occupants than just the three of them; Longbottom came by and stopped for a chat, as did the twins and Jordan – none of whom had seen either Potter or Weasley - and then, they were joined by one of She-Weasel's friends.
"Hello, Ginny." Large, blue eyes then fixed themselves on Draco. "I'm Luna," she said dreamily, and stepped into their compartment. Granger looked up from her book, arched her eyebrows, and then went back to reading.
"Hi," Draco said.
"You shouldn't sit like that," she said, sitting lightly on the seat next to Ginny's.
"Why not?" Draco asked.
"Sometimes, your reflection can come to life and hurt you," she said seriously. Granger made a quiet sound that might have been a snort, and Draco was trying to work out whether she was being serious or not. He moved a little anyway; just enough that he could see the green of the trees blurring past outside. "It's more likely to try if you're not looking at it."
"Luna, this is Draco Malfoy," She-Weasley said, her eyes bright, and rather amused from behind Luna. "And Hermione Granger."
"What House do you think you'll be in, Luna?" Granger asked.
"Ravenclaw, I think," Luna said thoughtfully. "Other than Ginny, I've never had any friends, so I don't know if I'm loyal enough for Hufflepuff, and Daddy says I'm brave, but I think I'm too sensible for Gryffindor-" There was no condemnation behind the words, just her odd, matter-of-fact sort of tone, but Granger flushed, "-and I think I'm too honest for Slytherin."
The compartment was silent for a few moments, and Luna started to hum to herself. Draco looked at Granger, who shrugged in a helpless sort of way, and then at the compartment door.
"Have any of you got a spare bit of parchment and a quill?" he asked. Granger, predictably, did, and passed them over.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"We've been on the train for nearly two hours," he said, "and the others still haven't shown up… with Potter's luck…"
"Oh, don't remind me," Granger mumbled.
Severus, Draco wrote.
"Hogsmeade as well?" the conductor asked. "Well, if that's the case, you can have the beds next to His Royal Highness." The last was accompanied by a roll of his eyes and a grimace, as he waved a hand at the back of the bus. "Should take us about four hours, so settle in, and I'll be around with sandwiches in an hour or so."
"Thanks," Harry said, dragging his trunk toward the bed that the conductor had waved at. Once his trunk was tucked away, and Hedwig was secured – or as secure as anything could be on the Knight Bus – he flopped down.
"Should be interesting," Ron said. "This is my first time on here, you know."
"Interesting's the right word for it," Harry said grimly. He'd been on it several times, and much preferred flying or Apparating, or even using the Floo.
"Oh no," Ron said.
"What?" Harry asked.
"You've got to be joking," Ron said, sounding abruptly disgusted. He pointed to the bed two away from his. Lying on it, was a man in lilac robes, with a matching lilac eye-mask, and curly golden hair. He looked vaguely familiar, but it took Harry a few moments to realise that the man was Gilderoy Lockhart.
"Reckon we can move?" Harry whispered, unwilling to wake Lockhart and be recognised. He seriously considered transforming into his wolf form and having Ron claim him as a pet, but Ron didn't know about that, and there was still the matter of Harry's things.
"The bloke said he's getting off at Hogsmeade," Ron replied, in an equally low voice. "What do you reckon he's going there for?"
"Probably got a book signing," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Ron sniggered, and Harry shushed him. "If you wake him up, I'm telling him that you've read all his books and want his autograph," Harry threatened.
"Who do you think I am; Hermione?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose. "But if you tell him that, I'm going to tell him you want advice on manageable hair." Harry scowled.
"Then I'll say that…"
When the conductor brought them their sandwiches an hour later, he found them laughing so hard they were crying, in complete and utter silence.
"We're not even that late," Harry said, looking relieved; he was pointing at little lights on the lake – which would be Ginny and the first years, with Hagrid – and more lights in the forest ahead of them, which Ron guessed was the rest of the school, travelling by the carriages Percy always talked about.
Harry bent to let Hedwig out of her cage, and she immediately took to the air and headed toward the castle.
"Oi," Ron said, turning to look at Lockhart, who was dragging his many suitcases off the bus, with the help of the irritated conductor. "Do you have a way to tell the teachers we're here?"
"I'm afraid not, boys," he said.
Useless, Ron thought.
"A little exercise won't kill us, though." Lockhart had, to Ron's – and probably Harry's – horror, revealed that he was a teacher at Hogwarts this year, though Ron couldn't imagine what subject he was taking. What Ron did know, was that they'd be subjected to Lockhart's company until they reached the school. "Did you know, I won Witch Weekly's Most Athletic-"
"Here, Ron," Harry said. He'd taken his Nimbus out and had put it through the handle of his trunk. He did the same with Hedwig's empty cage, and then managed to slide Ron's trunk on as well. Harry kept his hand on the broom – no doubt to keep it afloat – and started along the path to the school. Ron, pleased to only have to carry Scabbers' cage, trotted after him.
"Very clever, Harry," Lockhart said. Ron was pleased to see he was struggling under the weight of his luggage. "In fact, it reminds me of something I did, while I was hiking in the Rocky Mountains…"
They'd only been with Lockhart for ten minutes, when a carriage – apparently pulled on its own - pulled up. Ron didn't think he'd ever been happier to see Snape. Lockhart, who'd been lagging for a fair while, looked ready to hug Snape. Ron almost wished he would, knowing Snape would kill the other man if he tried.
"A hand, if you don't mind, Professor," Lockhart called, panting. Snape, as Ron had expected, ignored him.
"So," Snape said, stepping out of the carriage, "the train isn't good enough for Potter and his sidekick?"
"The barrier sealed itself," Ron said, scowling. He had the bruises to prove it, but he doubted Snape would care. Snape arched an eyebrow. "So we missed the train."
"I'm aware," Snape said. "And once it became clear you had missed it, you-"
"Caught the Knight Bus," Harry said. His voice was hard, but not unfriendly; Harry, Merlin knew why, had always had more tolerance for Snape than Ron.
"Surprised though I am that you avoided them, there were certainly worse alternatives to the one you chose." Ron tried to work out whether that was a compliment or not. "You did not, however, think to send anyone a letter with details of what had happened, or your whereabouts." Snape's mouth was a very thin line. "I had thought, Potter, that you'd been told to have a care for your safety, this year." Harry stared at his shoes, and Ron decided to ask him about that later.
"Safety!" Lockhart had finally reached them. "Really, they couldn't be any safer than they were in my company." Snape smiled a very unpleasant smile. "You must have got my message and came to get us."
"You said you didn't know how to send a message," Ron pointed out.
"It's been a long day," Lockhart, with a pitying look at Ron. Then he looked at Snape. "The boy's hearing things. Obviously, I sent a message, because otherwise-"
"I saw Potter's owl coming in from this direction," Snape said silkily. Ron saw Harry try to hide a smile, but Ron didn't bother. "Your message must not have arrived yet." Ron sniggered as Lockhart's smile fell. Snape eyed Harry's laden broomstick, and flicked his wand. The broom, two trunks and Hedwig's cage vanished, and so did Scabbers' cage in Ron's hand.
"Mine can go to my room, Professor," Lockhart said, in what he obviously thought was a helpful way.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it would be to be able to send any object through the school's wards?" Snape sneered. He repeated the spell for Lockhart's things, and then said, "The house elves will collect them from outside the gate, and deal with them as they see fit." Ron hoped they dumped Lockhart's in the lake.
"Thanks," Harry and Ron said together, and Snape, surprisingly, nodded.
"Get in," he said, gesturing to the carriage. "I intend to see my House's new students be Sorted." Ron was abruptly grateful that his last name was so far back in the alphabet that he would almost certainly see Ginny's Sorting. Lockhart climbed in after them, and then Snape got in, stumbling slightly over the step. Snape cast an annoyed look at his leg, and Ron looked away before Snape could see him watching.
The carriage lurched and took off toward the school at a brisk pace. Harry had his nose pressed against the window and was watching the trees. Ron wondered what he was thinking.
"Are we-" Ron hoped he wasn't making trouble here, but he had to ask. "-we're not in trouble, are we?"
"Your handling of the situation was better than anyone that knows you could have expected, Weasley," Snape drawled, making it clear that that wasn't a compliment. "However, your communication was very poor, and could have been easily remedied."
"You're giving us detention for not writing?" Harry asked, scowling.
"Not at all," Snape said in a smooth voice that made something in Ron wither and die. "I think it might be appropriate to remedy your lack of communication, by having you write letters."
"Home?" Ron asked.
"Your families were informed you were missing as soon as the school learned of it," Snape said dismissively. "They will be informed that you have been found when we arrive." He glanced at Lockhart and his lip curled. "No, I think it fitting that you write a letter of thanks to Professor Lockhart, for being kind enough to escort you back to school."
"A wonderful idea!" Lockhart said, beaming at them. Ron didn't know how, but somehow he'd missed the mockery dripping off of every single word Snape had spoken.
"I will, of course," Snape added, "draft them for you before you pass them on, to make sure that they are adequately grateful."
Ron managed not to groan. Just.
"Coming!" Tonks called, almost tripping over Canis, who was wound around her ankles wanting dinner. She nudged him out of the way with her foot, and then undid the locks – both muggle and magical – on her door. "Wotcher," she said faintly.
Remus smiled at her. He looked tired, but she knew the moon wasn't for another week, and he also had several days' worth of beard on his face.
"Hello," he said quietly. Tonks licked her lips and saw his eyes dart down to her mouth.
"Would- do you want to come in?" she asked.
"Yes, please," he said, looking past her into the flat, seeming curious.
"I don't mean to be rude," she said, stepping back so he could come in, "but shouldn't you be at work?" School had gone back yesterday, after all, and Remus was a teacher. Surely he was needed there, not- well, surely he had other things to do than show up at her flat at eight-thirty at night, in France.
"I don't start until next week," he replied. He reached down to pat Canis, and almost got himself bitten for his trouble.
"Tea?" Tonks heard herself ask.
"Please," Remus replied. She busied herself in the kitchen, still too shocked to be angry or upset, or flattered that he was here. She burned herself twice on the kettle, and dropped one of the teacups on the way to Remus, and had to start again. "Are you all right?" he asked, as she summoned the sugar from the kitchen; she knew how he liked his tea.
"Surprised, actually," she said. Remus nodded, as if that was to be expected, and for the first time, looked nervous. "I hadn't expected to see you anytime soon."
"I suppose that's fair," he said. They sipped their tea in silence, and then Tonks, unable to help herself, spoke up.
"So what are you doing here?"
"I came to talk to you," Remus said.
"I'd worked that much out," she said, annoyed. She could see her reflection in the window, though, and her hair had gone an odd, red-orange. She was just pleased to see it a colour other than- well, other than the colour of Remus' hair. "How are Harry and Sirius? I've been meaning to write to them, but-"
"Sirius is busy with work," Remus said. "And Harry's too smart for his own good." He said that last bit a little darkly, but she didn't think he was angry, just annoyed. "I'm sort of dreading having to see him again, for the inevitable 'I told you so, Moony'." He made a face.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tonks told him. Remus' mouth twitched.
"How are things here?" he asked. "You would have started, surely?"
"Thursday," she said, watching his face. She almost expected him to look bitter, but he didn't and she felt guilty for thinking that way. "The people are…" She searched for a word before coming up with, "interesting, to say the least. One girl's a seer – a real one – and one man can do the most incredible things with wards…" She watched him closely, wanting to see his face when she said this next one, "And one of them, Remus, is a werewolf." She'd never been able to tell him about Florence – having him know about her could be dangerous for him, or for Florence if the information ever got out.
"Truly?" he asked, looked as surprised as she'd expected.
"He's from Russia, and it's- well, clearly it's not a very big deal over there. It just means he's faster and has better senses than the rest of us."
"I'd be interested to meet him, I think," Remus said, with a thoughtful smile.
"I- I almost wrote to you when I found out, actually," she admitted, after a few moments. Remus made a non-committal gesture, but didn't ask why she'd never sent the letter. She was grateful for that.
"I'd like to ask for a second chance," Remus said, almost too quickly for her to make sense of it. Almost.
"Ah," she said. Her heart was racing; on the one hand, she'd missed him horribly, and spent nights lying awake in bed, crying and hoping for a chance like this. On the other hand, there were reasons she'd ended it with him – fixable though they were – and Remus being here didn't automatically fix any of them. "You know I won't go back with you," she said. "I have- I'm going to stay with the course, here."
"I know," Remus said.
"And you have your job-"
"Yes," Remus said.
"And-"
"Dora," he said, "I'm asking – details like jobs, and money, and- and all the rest aside – whether you'll take me back."
"The details were the problem in the first place!" she said, scowling at him. Remus just sat quietly, nursing his tea. "Is this what you want?" she asked. "Sirius didn't bully you into coming, or-"
"Sirius doesn't know I'm here," Remus said, with a slightly sad smile. "No one does, for that matter, except for Dumbledore."
"You haven't answered the question," she pointed out.
"I don't just want a mug," Remus said.
"What-"
"There was a Boggart, and- that's not the point. The point is, that I've had some of the loneliest days of my life these past few weeks, and," he added mildly, "that's saying something when you consider my parents didn't let me socialise with other children when I was young, and that a good quarter of my life so far was spent with my friends dead – or pretending to be, in Peter's case – and in Azkaban." From his tone, he could have been discussing the weather, but his eyes were warm, and very focused on her. Tonks didn't know what to say. "I've missed you," he said, though that much was obvious.
"I- I've missed you too," Tonks said, with a shaky smile. "And- it means a lot to me that you're here, but- I mean, you weren't wrong when you said you can't afford to arrange international portkeys, and that you'll have commitments to Hogwarts, and I'll have commitments here-"
"Will you take me back anyway?" he asked softly.
"I- yes, of course I will! I just- I don't want to force-"
"I want this," Remus said, and warmth rose in Tonks' chest. "More than my job."
"Remus, you don't- you can't quit, you love teaching-"
"I already have," he said, shrugging. "I'm here to stay, if you'll have me-" He gave her a sly grin. "-old and stupid and dangerous as I am…"
"Oh, shut up," she said, then frowned. "If you're here to stay, then where are your things?" she asked.
"Dora," Remus said scoffing, "I was hopeful that we'd reach this point, but I think showing up with bags might have been a bit presumptuous." Tonks couldn't help but smile at that. She reached over and took his hand. It was sweaty, and she realised he'd been a lot more nervous about this than he'd let on. "For all I knew, you might have set your menace of a cat on me, and not let me in." Tonks waited impatiently. "They're in my office," he said finally.
"Office?" she asked.
"Did you know Dumbledore has connections all over the world?" She arched an eyebrow. "Did you also know, that Madam Olympe Maxime has a soft spot for halfbreeds like myself?"
"Who?" Tonks asked.
"And," Remus said, ignoring her, "did you know that Beauxbatons Academy was looking for a Defence Assistant, to help with demonstrations, and to take some first year classes?"
Tonks didn't know what to say. Her heart was in her throat, and she was so happy to have him back that she thought she was about half a second from bursting into tears and embarrassing herself.
"You- really-"
"I want this," Remus whispered again, and then pressed a kiss to her cheek. After that, he watched her, eyes warm, but wary. Tonks scowled and leaned over to give him a proper kiss.