Disclaimer: Die wunderbare wizarding Welt und die Charaktere (außer jenen Originalen) gehören J.K. Rowling.
"Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home." – J.K. Rowling
Platform 9¾ was bustling, as it always was on the first day of September, with teary-eyed parents and excited students. As Harry made his way along the platform, trunks piled on a pushcart but the absence of Hedwig's cage ever more obvious, he could feel the buzz of anticipation in the air. A new year, a new chance at life after the war. Hermione walked beside him as they made their way to the storage unit for their belongings, with Ron and Ginny a few paces behind them, trapped in the tight grasp of a teary-eyed Mrs Weasley.
'Now, you two must be on your best behaviour,' they had heard her say numerous times. 'Understood? No tomfoolery, nothing dangerous. Keep out of trouble!'
Ron made a comment about how trouble always seemed to find them, and not the other way around, and was rewarded with a smack to the back of his head.
They said their final goodbyes and boarded the Hogwarts Express, the three of them quickly finding an empty compartment – Ginny had been appointed Head Girl and had other duties to attend to. As they settled in for the journey and the train pulled away from the station, there was a tentative knock on the door and, to their utter surprise, there stood Draco Malfoy. Taking their silence and stunned expressions as permission to enter, Draco pulled open the compartment door.
'Potter, may I speak to you?' he asked quietly. Harry blinked, but made no move.
'Anything you wish to say, Malfoy, can be said in front of my friends.' Draco furrowed his eyebrows and tried again.
'I wish to speak to you alone, Potter, please.' Ron snorted, but fell silent as Hermione shot him a glare. It was rare enough to hear Malfoy say please, so she was extremely curious as to what he had to say.
'I'm sure you can understand my reluctance to be alone with you, Malfoy,' Harry replied, exasperatedly. 'Just say what you have to say, already!' Draco shifted uncomfortably, then gave up.
'Very well. Potter, I would like to say thank you, for, you know, saving my life-'
'Twice!' Ron interjected. Hermione shot him another glare, and Harry nudged him sharply with his elbow. Draco looked slightly confused, and even more embarrassed.
'Yeah, twice, actually,' said Harry, 'though we were invisible the second time. And thank you, too, for not giving us away at the Manor – I know you recognised me.'
'I don't know what you mean, Potter.'
'Either way, how about a truce? After all we've been through, it seems silly to hold on to childish rivalries from years past.' Harry held out his hand. 'What do you say?'
As Draco considered the hand, he couldn't help but remember his own offer of friendship to Harry in first year. He had been rejected, humiliated – but that was many years ago. Yes, a truce would be mutually beneficial, he decided, and took Harry's hand.
'Truce.'
With that, he turned and left the compartment, pulling the door closed behind him, leaving the trio still slightly stunned at what had just happened.
'At least now we don't have to worry about him trying to hex us in the hallways.' Harry joked, trying to lighten the mood. Hermione smiled, and Ron nodded in reluctant agreement.
'Yeah sure,' he said, 'but he's still a rotten git.'
They spent the rest of the train ride munching on snacks – Ron nearly choked with laughter when Harry got his own Chocolate Frog Card, twice – and playing a few games of Exploding Snap, the anticipation of going back to Hogwarts keeping their spirits high. Finally, the train pulled into Hogsmeade station.
As they walked towards the carriages, Ron stopped abruptly, causing Harry to bump into him. Beside him, Hermione, too, was halted in her path.
'Merlin,' whispered Ron in a strained voice. 'I can see them.' Harry gave him a puzzled glance, unsure about what his friend was referring to, and why they had stopped.
'They're just as magnificent as you described, Harry,' Hermione said with wonder and sadness evident in her voice. 'The Thestrals – I can see them now too, Ron, and I don't think we're the only ones.' She gestured vaguely in the direction of the other students gathered around.
Surveying the stunned faces of the crowd, the profound effects of the war had never been clearer. Death had truly touched them all.
The ride back to the castle was a quiet one, and the eyes of those who had never seen the Thestrals before that time hardly ever took their eyes off of them. Harry was glad when they reached the Entrance Gates. The Hogwarts castle, restored to its former glory after the final battle, stood tall and grand as ever, and he felt glad to be home.
The Great Hall was vastly different to how they had seen it last, the large room having been prepared for the students' arrival, the tables set up in their usual manner and the four House banners hanging grandly on the walls. The floating candles shone brightly as the students entered, chattering loudly, filling the room with a familiar sense of home. The only indication that there had ever been a battle in this room, and that this had been a place of great significance in the war, was the golden plaque that had been placed over the most prominent stained glass window.
In this Great Hall, Voldemort met his end at the hands of Harry Potter.
Many fought bravely and gave their lives to defeat this dark wizard. Let us never forget.
Harry lowered his eyes, recalling the aftermath of the battle that had been fought there. Voldemort defeated, the survivors had had to bring the fallen to be laid out in the Great Hall. The losses had been great, far greater than Harry was able to count without breaking down. That night, despite the exhaustion brought on from the events of the day, they all had held a vigil, staying up and supporting each other as they had mourned.
Ron laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, breaking him out of his thoughts. He smiled gratefully and the trio made their way over to the Gryffindor table, sitting down next to Dean and Eloise Midgen. Hermione, who had maintained contact with her Eloise after she left in sixth year, was glad to see her, as her father had was still unconvinced that Hogwarts was entirely safe and had only allowed her to return after much pleading. They were the only Gryffindors who had returned for the eighth year – together with five Hufflepuffs, three Ravenclaws, and Draco Malfoy, the only Slytherin.
When all the students were settled, the Sorting Ceremony began. On a stool in the front of the Great Hall sat the Sorting Hat, a little charred from the war, but nonetheless still functional and proud. It sang a short and solemn song this year, emphasising the importance of inter-house unity, and there were forty first years to be sorted, but Harry felt his eyes and mind wander as they stepped up to the stool. Malfoy, he noticed, sat alone and apart from the others in his House at the end of the table. How interesting. Come to think of it, the so-called Slytherin Prince hadn't had many friends at Hogwarts, only lackeys and admirers, if anything, and none of whom would returned to school. Most of the Slytherins had finished their education despite the war, and had taken their N.E.W.T.s already.
Finally, as 'Yanting, Amelie' took her place at the Ravenclaw table, Professor McGonagall stepped up to the lectern and cleared her voice. Immediately, the Great Hall quietened, and she began her speech.
'Welcome all to another year at Hogwarts! Now before we start the feast, I'd like to say a few words. Firstly, there are two new professors to welcome,' the headmistress gestured to the teacher's table. 'Professor Donald Ambert who will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Simona Hope, who will be teaching Muggle Studies.'
The Great Hall was filled with polite applause, which the headmistress ended after a moment with a raise of her hand before continuing.
'Secondly, for those who are not already aware, we have fourteen students from the Class of 1998 joining us for an eighth year here at Hogwarts. These students will be staying in the Eastern Tower, and some may be in seventh year classes.' She paused again as murmurs filled the Great Hall, then continued.
'This year is the first school year following the Second Wizarding War. If you feel that you need any support or counselling after this difficult time, please feel welcome to approach myself or any staff member you feel comfortable with. The focus of this year will be inter-house unity, and for this reason, the House Cup will not be awarded this year. Finally, before we begin the feast, let us observe a minute of silence for those who did not survive the war. Please use this time to reflect on and remember the fallen.'
Professor McGonagall waved her wand, and a long ribbon unfurled in the air. On it was the names of Hogwarts students and alumni who had died during the war. The hall was silent, all of the students quiet with their eyes downcast.
After some time had passed, the headmistress took her seat. As she did, the feast arrived.
Chatter in the hall slowly increased in volume as the smell of food wafted through the air. A variety of platters had been served this year – roast beef, pork chops, duck confit, joints of lamb, steak of cooked to several different temperatures, fried chicken, boiled potatoes, roasted potatoes, mashed potatoes, chips, spaghetti bolognese, peas, carrots – the list went on and on. The students quickly helped themselves to the food and tucked in.
Hermione closed her eyes as she savoured a bite of her fried chicken. Oh, how she had missed Hogwarts food! She might not approve of the House-Elf slavery, but the food that they made was absolutely delicious. As she opened her eyes and prepared to take a second bite, she felt a firm tap on her shoulder.
'Excuse me, Hermione,' the voice of Professor McGonagall said from behind her. Hermione quickly put down the chicken, wiped her mouth, and turned around. 'Would you please meet me in my office after the feast? I'd like to discuss your N.E.W.T. subjects.'
Hermione nodded eagerly. She had owled the headmistress before their return, requesting to take up Muggle Studies as a subject despite not having taken the O.W.L.s.
'Very good,' she lowered her voice and leaned in closer so that nobody else would hear. 'The password is Sherbet Lemons.' With that, the headmistress straightened up and nodded politely to the other students at the table, then walked off. The trio watched as she made her way to the Slytherin table, and stopped to talk to Draco Malfoy.
'Do you want us to go with you?' Harry asked, wiping some gravy from his mouth with the back of his hand. Ron looked up and nodded in agreement to the question, unable to add anything as his mouth was full of lamb.
'Thanks,' she replied, 'but I'll be alright. You two head up to the Eastern Tower first, and I'll see you both in the morning. Classes start tomorrow, so you could do some revision, if you have time.' Ron snorted, and Harry raised an eyebrow.
'Yer,' Ron said, 'lizdat ewangon apon.' Hermione looked to Harry for a translation, but he shook his head, laughing, just as lost as she was. Ron rolled his eyes and quickly finished his mouthful.
'I said: Yeah, like that's ever going to happen!'
They quickly finished their meals, and dessert, then parted ways. Hermione made her way up the moving, circular staircase to the third level of the Headmistress' Tower. The gargoyle stepped aside as she said the password, and she entered the wonderful room, filled with the instruments and magical trinkets that Hermione loved so much. But, to her surprise, the one other person in the room was not Professor McGonagall, as she had expected, but Draco Malfoy.
A/N: Thank you again so much for the wonderful reviews, favourites and follows! I truly appreciate them – they're really great motivation for me to update this story instead of doing the actual work I really should be doing in preparation for my so-called 'N.E.W.T.s'!