lvii. welcome back
At precisely ten o'clock the next morning, Harriet and Elara stepped through the Floo at Grimmauld Place to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and were both quite pleased when nothing went amiss. Harriet had expected something to go terribly wrong somewhere and thus bring the Wrath of Snape down on their heads.
"All right, Elara?" she asked as the dark-haired witch swayed in place, looking green.
"'Ine," she grunted—and Harriet wrinkled her nose when she spat out half a peeled ginger root. Elara tossed it in the bin to be Vanished and rolled her eyes. "It's for nausea, Harriet."
"Oh, right."
Given the train had another hour before departure, few students had arrived and most that had still mingled on the platform with their parents, going through their trunks to check if they'd missed anything or trying to calm fussy, caged familiars. Elara and Harriet went in search of a compartment and found one they liked in the back of the train, settling in to wait for Hermione.
It didn't take long for the final member of their trio to arrive; both girls saw Hermione walk onto the platform with the Malfoy family and Jamie Ingham, looking eager to be going back to school and also eager to escape her handlers. The bushy-haired witch nodded quickly to something said to her by Mrs. Malfoy, and then dashed off when the older witch turned her head.
Elara stood. "I'll go find her."
A few minutes later, Elara returned with Hermione in tow, the latter ranting in a low, furious undertone about how much she despised Draco Malfoy.
"—little toad uprooted half the Affable Azaleas in the greenhouse and has the gall to blame it on me! Me! Of course, Mrs. Malfoy didn't believe him for an instant, but he still earned us all an hour-long lecture on respecting the gardens—and in the middle of Malfoy Senior's tirade, he leans back and crushes the Highlander Ivy! I got told off for not stopping him—! Oh, hello, Harriet."
"Hi, Hermione."
"How are you then?"
Anxious. Nervous. A bit scared. "Err—good, I guess. Sounds like you've had better days, though."
Hermione let out an aggrieved huff as she sank into an empty seat. "It'll be a relief to get back to school. I've missed you both terribly. How was living at Elara's house?"
"Er, pretty great."
Elara scoffed as she sank onto the bench across from them. "Most everything is still cursed, broken, or otherwise out of order. Should it be visible to Muggles, I would fully expect to arrive home at Yule to find a condemned sign on the door."
"Surely it isn't that bad."
They chatted about the grim—and often fascinating—secrets to be found inside of Grimmauld Place while the train and the platform slowly filled, the volume of voices increasing as departure time neared. Harriet kicked her feet while Elara and Hermione argued, thinking about their trip to Hogsmeade last year. A lot, and very little, had changed since then.
The conversation eventually turned to the letter Harriet had received from Nicholas Flamel, and she pulled down her trunk long enough to fish out the French book for Hermione to flip through. The other witch went into instant raptures, rattling off fluid French paragraphs that fairly boggled Harriet's mind and earned a reproving tut from Elara. By then, the train had begun to move, and Hermione whipped out a Self-Inking Quill from her own satchel and a fresh roll of parchment to start translating the author foreword.
"It's about recognizing Dark magic, defining it and understanding its origins. Oh, books like these aren't really popular in England anymore—not after Grindelwald and, well, You-Know-Who. Fascinating. Do you mind if I keep this while I work on the translation? But you really should learn a few of these phrases—they come up in other branches of magic, and it'll be beneficial in the long run. I'll just be sure to make a note here…."
"Of course. Thanks for all your help, Hermione."
They subsided into a comfortable quiet wherein Harriet watched London disappear outside their window, Elara brought out one of her family's journals to read, and Hermione scribbled away on the parchment. The silence lasted for a handful of minutes before the compartment door clattered open and two girls stuck their heads in.
"Hey, do you mind if we sit here?" asked the first, her face heavily freckled and her ginger hair hastily tied back. "Everyone else is full."
"Of course," Hermione replied. She rose and quickly gathered her scattered things, making room on the bench next to her while Harriet stood to help the newcomers heave their trunks into the overhead rack. She proved a bit too short to manage on her own, and Elara had to stand and assist, trying her hardest not to smirk.
"Thanks," the red-head said as she sat, heaving a relieved sigh. She wore what looked like Muggle clothes, but Harriet—who'd had a bit of a fascination for wizard fashion ever since she first walked into the Leaky Cauldron and saw how very odd the styles were—could tell the threading about the seams had been done by hand or by wand, not by machine, and an animated Quidditch player flew on the shirt's front. Faded as he was, he still tipped them a wink and flew around a flaking, orange "CC" logo.
The second girl sat as well, blonde hair falling in haphazard waves past her thin shoulders. "Hello," she said, her wide, silvery eyes passing over the trio of dark-haired witches. She dressed in tights and a plum-colored dress, a spot of mulch on one knee, almost as if she'd knelt quickly in the garden for something before leaving home. She balanced a little wooden box in her lap as well as a folded newspaper. "I'm Luna."
"And I'm Ginny," the other girl added.
"Hermione Granger," Hermione said, extending a hand for the pair to shake. "How do you do? This is Harriet and Elara."
Feeling a touch sheepish in the presence of strangers, Harriet smiled, and Elara only gave a nod.
"I don't think I've seen you before. Are you both first years?"
Luna and Ginny nodded.
"We're second years. Are you excited about starting school? Do you know what Houses you think you'll be in?"
"Gryffindor," Ginny said without hesitation, shrugging her shoulder with affected ease. Harriet could tell by the way she nibbled her lip that Ginny wasn't as certain as she seemed. "My whole family's been Gryffindors for as long as anyone can remember, apparently."
Before Luna could answer, the compartment door slid open again, and Harriet groaned when Draco Malfoy sauntered in. He didn't get far, and there was little space as is, so Crabbe and Goyle loomed in the empty corridor, the latter sporting a smudge of chocolate on his cheek. "Granger, you ran off to find the House losers, I see."
"My friends." Hermione stuck her nose in the air. "If that's what you mean, then yes."
Malfoy scoffed and dropped onto the bench, forcing Elara over, which squished Harriet into the window. "Whatever, Granger." He seemed to realize the two younger girls were there and scrutinized Ginny in specific, nose wrinkling. "Red hair and hand-me-down clothes? You must be a Weasley. I didn't know that their brood had any girls in it."
"Don't be an arsehole, Malfoy."
"Harriet, really—."
"I thought you didn't like Weasleys, Potter?" Malfoy asked, interrupting Hermione. "Especially after what you did to Ron, the Gormless Gryffindor."
Harriet went to object, when Ginny blinked and let out a soft sound of recognition. "Potter. Harriet Potter? Aren't you the one who beat up Ron last year?"
Harriet blushed scarlet and sputtered. "I—! I didn't beat him up!" Malfoy started to laugh, and even Hermione looked very near cracking a smile. "Hey! I didn't! I just—punched him in the mouth a bit."
Expecting anger, Harriet was surprised Ginny smirked, tucking a bit of loose hair behind her ear. "He probably deserved it. Ron can be thick at times."
"Like the rest of you Weasleys," Malfoy sneered. He crossed his arms and ignored their pointed glances with a haughty scoff.
"Draco," Hermione said, her patience far outlasting Harriet's own, though she stressed the syllables of the boy's name like she wanted to hurl them physically at his head. "What are you doing here?"
"I was looking for Longbottom. I haven't seen him." When he mentioned Neville, Ginny's face lit up like a ripe tomato, and Malfoy snickered cruelly. "That's right, the Prat Who Lived was staying with your family for part of the summer at your hovel, wasn't he?"
"How do you even know that?"
"Read the paper, Potter—or can't you read with those ugly things you call glasses?"
Elara snapped her journal closed, the sound moving everyone's attention to her as she, in turn, directed a cold look at Malfoy. "You've been sufficiently irritating and can leave now. Perhaps I should write to your mother and mention your deplorable lack of manners in the presence of ladies."
The mention of Mrs. Malfoy had Draco rising and shuffling off, though not before his half-hearted utterance of "not seeing any ladies present" was heard. He stormed through the door, slamming it shut behind him and his goons, though the latch didn't catch, and it rattled open again.
"Merlin, he's annoying," Harriet muttered. "Was he like that all summer, Hermione?"
"Yes. I'm sorry about him. But never mind—what were you saying before, Luna?"
"Nothing in particular. Dad and Mum were both Ravenclaws, so I think I'd like to go there—but you never know where you'll end up until you get there, do you?" Her voice lilted in question as if she meant for someone to actually answer, and when no one did, Luna shrugged. Harriet wasn't sure, but she thought the other girl might have a sprig of mugwort tucked behind her ear. "Oh, well."
They chatted for a while—or Hermione mostly told the two what to expect from their first year and listed all the qualifications of the professors while Harriet tried to reel in her enthusiasm and Ginny just blinked, dazed by Hermione's zeal. Elara returned to her journal, and Luna, humming under her breath, brought out the paper—The Quibbler—she had and disappeared behind its pages. Harriet scratched her neck while Livi dozed beneath her loose shirt.
"What do you think that Malfoy bloke meant by not being able to find N-Neville?" Ginny asked at one point, her cheeks faintly pink. "He went through the barrier with my brother, right after me and my dad, and Luna and her dad."
"Maybe he's just avoiding Malfoy," Harriet said, shrugging. The trolley witch came around, and Harriet was quick to empty her purse, buying lunch for the compartment, and though Hermione frowned over the mound of sugary confections, she didn't reject the proffered package of Toothflossing Stringmints. "Like Hermione did last year. She came diving through the door and hid under the window until he passed by."
"I was tempted to the same this year, but I figured he would stop to harass you and Elara anyway."
"He seems very confused," Luna commented as she unwrapped a Cauldron Cake, licking her sticky fingertips. "His head must be full of Wrackspurts."
"Full of—what now?" Hermione gave the blonde witch a puzzled look. "'Wrackspurts?'"
"Wrackspurts. Tiny creatures that fly into your ears and make your brain go fuzzy."
Ginny winced and rubbed the side of her nose, though Luna didn't seem to notice. "Luna and her dad believe in some, um, different stuff than a lot of witches and wizards."
"So, they're imaginary."
"No, they're not."
"But I've never read anything on wrackspurts before."
"Just because you haven't read about them doesn't make them less real," Luna insisted.
"Malfoy's full of something, but I don't think it's Wrackspurts."
"Harriet, honestly."
"I didn't say anything."
Noise in the corridor paused their conversation as two older boys passed by the compartment's open door. "I swear I saw it!"
"Did you smuggle Butterbeer onto the train again, Cormac? McGonagall will find out and write your da if you can't keep it together."
"I'm not mucking about, I really did see it! There was a flying car, clear as day!"
"You're delusional, mate."
The pair drifted out of earshot, and Elara rose to slide the door shut. Harriet looked out the window—seeing nothing aside from the rolling green of the countryside and a fat plume of steam coming out the front engine—and then looked to the others. "Did he just say a flying car?"
x X x
Soon enough, the train rolled to a stop at Hogsmeade station, and a flock of black-robed students disembarked, their laughter and shouts echoing off the trees into the evening air and the neighboring village. Harriet pointed out Hagrid and Professor Selwyn to Ginny and Luna, who went to the half-giant and sour-faced History of Magic professor with the rest of the incoming first years so they could be shepherded across the lake. In contrast, Harriet and the rest continued along the platform to the line of waiting carriages and Professor Flitwick, who made sure everyone made it off the station and didn't wander into Hogsmeade.
Harriet glanced at the ghoulish Thestral drawing their carriage. She didn't mention it to Elara or Hermione.
The wheels clattered on the road as they out, passing through the gates flanked by large, winged boars on stone pillars, and through the trees Hogwarts came into view, just as brilliant and beautiful as Harriet remembered it, and her heart thrummed with anticipation. She loved living with Elara—but the castle felt like home, a home she'd never known before. After such an eventful summer spent traveling all over the magical settlements in Great Britain, it seemed to Harriet as if a knot in her middle loosened once she caught sight of the towers silhouetted against the spangled sky.
As second years, they followed the rest of the student body straight into the Great Hall and found seats at the four tables, the noise volume increasing as spots filled and professors filed in from the faculty door. Harriet spotted her Head of House as soon as he sauntered in and quickly looked away when his head snapped in her direction.
The Sorting took place, and Harriet clapped when Luna was placed in Ravenclaw and Ginny in Gryffindor, the latter hailed by raucous cheers from the Weasley twins and their prefect brother Percy. Harriet scanned their table, but she didn't spot Ron anywhere—or Longbottom. Where'd they go?
The clapping dwindled as Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his seat at the Head Table and lifted his arm for quiet. "Ah, how wonderful it is to see you all again—or to see you for the first time! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!"
More applause came from the assembled students seated at their respective House tables, and Harriet watched as Professor Dumbledore smiled and waited for quiet again.
"Before we dig in to our delectable meals, lend me your ears for a moment longer so I may list a few start-of-term announcements. Firstly, I am delighted to introduce our newest member of staff, Professor Burbage, who will be teaching Muggle Studies." An older brunette witch with a tentative smile rose when acknowledged and bobbed her head. Clapping again ensued, as did a fair measure of muttering when students speculated on just what had happened to Professor Quirrell.
"At least this one doesn't look keen on murdering me," Harriet whispered to Elara at her side.
"Yes, but neither did Quirrell."
"True."
"—the first Hogsmeade trip for third years and above is scheduled to be in December," Professor Dumbledore continued. "And Quidditch trials will be held next week for the respective House teams. Please contact Madam Hooch with any questions—."
Across the table from Harriet and her friends, Draco straightened in his spot between Crabbe and Goyle, a smug expression Harriet didn't like one bit tugging at his mouth. "Slytherin will be taking the Cup this year," he asserted. "Father's made a rather generous contribution; he bought the entire team Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-Ones—much better than the Nimbus Two-Thousand, that shoddy twig Longbottom rides. I'll be the new Seeker, of course."
On the other side of Crabbe, the muscle-bound sixth year Marcus Flint grunted. "Not until I see you sit a broom, Malfoy. If you can't fly, doesn't matter what model you got."
"I can fly!"
A few upperclassmen shushed him when Malfoy's indignant outburst drew the heavy gaze of Professor Slytherin. Headmaster Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Ah, well—I'll save the remainder of the announcements after the feast. For now, tuck in!"
The gleaming golden dishes and chargers filled with food at the wizard's words and the students wasted no time piling their plates high with scrumptious delicacies. Harriet didn't notice at first; she was too busy looking at Malfoy, a sinking feeling in her middle spoiling her appetite. She had wanted to try out as Seeker this year. It was no secret in Slytherin House that Terence Higgs, their current Seeker, was simply the best of a terrible situation, and Harriet had hoped that—though she'd never played Quidditch before—she would at least be able to try out. Apparently, there was no point.
Elara followed her attention across the table to the blond prat now listing broom specifications to Goyle, who honestly looked as if he'd heard all this a hundred times before. "Everything all right, Harriet?"
"Yeah," the bespectacled witch muttered, snapping out of her own sullen thoughts to reach for the mashed potatoes. "I'm fine."
They were halfway through the meal when Hermione pointed out that Snape wasn't present, and indeed, his chair remained conspicuously empty between Professors Selwyn and Slytherin. Filch came slinking through the faculty door, dressed in his usual frayed housecoat with Mrs. Norris at his heels, and went straight to the Headmaster, muttering something in his ear. Professor Dumbledore nodded, wiping his mouth with his napkin, and leaned over to maybe repeat what Filch had said to Professor McGonagall—whose lips pursed in a thin, disapproving line before they both stood and followed Filch from the hall.
Harriet wondered what that was about.
The professor returned before dessert finished, and Headmaster Dumbledore issued his cursory warning against magic in the corridors and noted any products from Gambols and Japes or Zonko's would be confiscated by Filch if found in their possession. He left off the warning against certain death if they wandered on the third-floor corridor, which was nice, and then dismissed them off to bed. Harriet gladly stumbled to her feet and trailed Prefect Farley down to the dungeons.
In the cold, subterranean shadows beneath the lake, the silver lanterns glowed like soft stars in the dark of space, shapes flickering in the murky tide beyond the common room windows, the air in their lungs smelling of earth and salt, wood smoke and green things. Harriet gave half-hearted greetings to her other dormmates—Parkinson, Bulstrode, Greengrass, Davis, and Runcorn all accounted for—and fell into her bed, Livi hissing in her ear as he tightened his slipping coils.
She listened to the water sigh, the other girls whispering among one another, and fell asleep in minutes.
It was nice to be home.
A/N: *Harriet arriving like a nice, normal student* "Golly, I hope this year's nice and average." *distant cackling ensues*
I also brought Luna into the story earlier (like I did with Tonks). In canon, the Lovegoods live near Ottery St Catchpole, and given how small the wizarding community is, I doubt the Lovegoods wouldn't be friendly with their neighbors, the Weasleys. I find it likely two witches of the same age living in the same area would be friends, and that the Weasleys would be quick to offer their support for Xenophilius and Luna after her mother died only a year or so before she was set to go to Hogwarts. Anyway, that's just my theory.