"Dress robes?"

Matthew looked down at his Hogwarts letter in disgust and threw it down onto the desk in front of him. Harry had just reached the same point in his own missive, just as confused as his friend was by that line. There was no explanation for their presence but Professor McGonagall had made it abundantly clear that every student in their fourth year and above would require them. It had even been written in bold capital letters so you couldn't even claim you'd missed it. Harry had never considered buying robes that weren't solely used for school, even if most of the wizards and witches he'd seen wore them on a daily basis. It simply hadn't crossed his mind. There was a note next to the bullet point that told them precisely where they could go to buy what they needed, a shop in Diagon Alley. There was even an option to go into Hogsmeade on one of their free weekends to get fitted, though McGonagall didn't appear to trust students to do that with plenty of time to spare. She'd managed to get that tone across through ink alone, and Harry was sure that she must have used a spell to clarify her disapproval.

As much as Harry wasn't looking forward to buying dress robes (it was the actual act of wearing such a thing rather than paying for them, since he had plenty of money for that), he was slightly confused by his friend's reaction. It wasn't the end of the world, even for teenage boys such as themselves. And Matthew was normally more cool headed than he currently was, pacing around in frustration. Then again, Harry understood the root cause of his behaviour. He had been like this for several days now, perhaps weeks. Every time they saw one another, which was as much as possible without the Dursleys getting annoyed, Matthew would appear more tense than his previous visit. And it was all because they hadn't heard anything from Hermione yet. The silence emanating from their mutual friend seemed to be all the confirmation they'd been dreading.

Katherine Granger had rightly confronted Dumbledore, catching the headmaster unawares. That was something that very few people could claim to have done. But the Granger matriarch had been a storm of fury, making Dumbledore seem smaller and less impressive as a man as she'd torn into him. It was a tirade of insults and impassioned cries as she tried to make sense of a situation that she couldn't remotely understand. She had wanted answers and wasn't going to stop until she got them. Peter, on the other hand, stood silently by her side, his anger conveyed by the icy stillness of his expression. Harry hadn't known which was more terrifying, especially since he'd only known them as the friendly parents that had brought Hermione into his life. The issue was that neither he nor Matthew could tell just how much Hermione had told them, making them worried that more details had slipped about their extracurricular activities within Hogwarts. And it wasn't as if they'd had the opportunity to ask. Dumbledore had calmly told the angry couple that they could sit down and discuss the matter, but only in private. They had been more than happy to do that, separating the friends for the rest of the Summer. Even Sirius, so self assured after his trial victory, had looked like he'd caught his tail in between his legs.

The separation appeared to be hurting Matthew more, who didn't seem to laugh quite as much since that day. Harry could still picture Hermione's sad, heartbroken look as they'd left her home in a hurried rush. He didn't want that to be the last thing he remembered about her. He had faith that Dumbledore, of all people, had the ability to calm Katherine and Peter and that Hermione would be allowed to return to school. Where else could she possibly go? She was far too great for a Muggle school and surely they wouldn't want her travelling to a magical one in a different country. The niggling thought in Harry's mind was how much the Granger family adored France, and hadn't Hermione told him once that there was a wizarding school in that country? He had decidedly not brought this up with Matthew, realising that it would likely only exacerbate his sole surviving friend's mood.

Harry just wanted a time again when his trio wasn't split. First Year, they had faced everything together, learning about one another along the way. Second Year, Matthew had been taken out by the Basilisk, leaving Harry and Hermione to save the day (and the school). Then their last year, where Matthew's hidden secrets had threatened to tear them apart permanently. And just as their reconciliation was complete, now Hermione was potentially being taken away from them. It wasn't fair, that was it. It wasn't fair that they couldn't just live normal lives as friends, instead of having to deal with so many external factors. But, without those factors driving them closer together, would they still be a group now? Harry wanted to believe so but it was hard to be positive at the moment.

"Why would we need dress robes?" Harry asked. It was actually fortunate that the problem had arisen, because it gave him the opportunity to distract Matthew from the pain he was obviously feeling.

"Oh, it would be far too easy to just tell us, wouldn't it?" Matthew retorted bitterly. "They always like to keep their little secrets. Why can't they just be open with us so we know what's happening?" It was pretty clear that he wasn't really talking about the robes. "It'll be some formal event, that's the only reason I can think of. Maybe they want to start a club or society in the school. They'll put on balls or regal dances. Can you picture me dancing?"

Harry couldn't exactly picture himself doing that either. "Please tell me it won't involve dancing. I've never danced. I'm pretty sure I've got two left feet."

"At least we'll be able to trip over one another. And there's one good thing to cling onto."

"Which is?"

"Do you really think that any of the other boys in our year will be good at dancing? No, of course not. So we'll blend in. It'll just be a total embarrassment instead of a personal one."

"They must have a reason for doing this. Unless McGonagall has just got bored."

"As if we haven't already been through enough at Hogwarts, hey?"

"What do you think would happen if we turned up without any of these robes?" It was certainly looking like a viable option for Harry.

"Don't underestimate our Head of House. She'd probably have us turn up wearing items from lost property. I'm a very fashionable person, Harry. I can't afford that hit to my reputation."

"You've worn the same cloak since the first day I met you, Matthew."

"Because it's a very fashionable piece of clothing. I'm glad you agree." He spun around to make the cloak twirl to emphasise his point.

Harry smirked. At least the distraction seemed to be working to a certain degree. "I suppose we'll have to make a trip to Madam Malkin's before school starts then. Let's just hope all the good robes haven't already been taken." He was planning on getting something dreadfully dull so that he wouldn't stand out in any crowd.

His friend frowned at him. "Why would we do that?"

As ever, Harry was confused by what Matthew had said. "Because…it's the only shop in Diagon Alley that actually sells what we need. It literally says in the shop name that they have robes for every occasion. McGonagall even told us to go there."

"And how many times have we actually listened to her?" He paused. "Don't tell her I said that. I feel like she's already somehow heard me…" Matthew shook his head, casually looking out the window to check if there were any bespectacled cats roaming in the garden outside. "Where was I? Oh, yeah…robes! There's no need to buy anything. Surely I've taught you to be thriftier than that."

He patted the side of his Tardis. Matthew had chosen to park it right in Harry's room to avoid the drama that had ensued the last time he'd visited and parked on Petunia's flower bed. The only issue was that the bedroom wasn't quite big enough for the blue box, meaning it had landed on a jaunty angle, balancing precariously on top of Harry's chest as one side leaned on the wall. It made moving around more difficult than it should have been, though Matthew had played it off as the outcome he had intended for. Harry knew that was a complete bluff.

"What? Are we going somewhere now?" Harry asked. "I'm afraid of how my family will react if they hear that noise the Tardis makes again. I think my uncle's developed a twitch whenever it's near."

"Am I supposed to be upset about that? It's the least he deserves after the way he's treated you." Matthew awkwardly pulled himself up to reach the door handle, pushing it open to reveal the console room inside. It glowed appreciatively at their impending return. "There's no need for us to go anywhere when I have a wardrobe in here. Somewhere…hopefully I can remember where I put it."

He was already scrambling inside, Harry just about managing to follow him. "Why would you have a wardrobe? With dress robes in it?"

"Before the Tardis lost its ability to travel through time, I visited a lot of places. And different time periods require different clothes. Now, stop complaining. I'm giving you a free gift!"

"I'm not complaining! It's just…unexpected."

"Well, I don't exactly have a reason to dress up normally, do I? And are you really shocked that I'm full of surprises?"

Harry couldn't exactly argue with that after what they'd been through recently. They walked up a flight of stairs, ignoring the console, before continuing up more steps. Through corridors they went, Matthew seeming to know where they were supposed to be going but you could never truly tell when it came to that boy. They wandered past the soft play area they'd trapped Lupin in, the memory coming back to Harry as if it were happening again. The image of those elongated limbs and imposing teeth chasing them down, almost getting Matthew, was one he wasn't likely to forget. If Matthew was remembering it too, he didn't show it, instead focused on their new destination. He exclaimed in triumph at one point, only to open the door onto what looked like a swimming pool (equipped with a diving board and…was that a lifeguard?). It took a few more tries to eventually find the wardrobe. In the meantime, Harry was treated to glimpses of a games room, what looked like a jazz club, and the library (something he knew Hermione would have loved to explore, sending a jolt of sadness washing over him).

If anything could divert his attention away from the absence of his other friend, it was the wardrobe. Harry had just expected a cramped closet, the sort he'd been forced to spend the majority of his years before Hogwarts. Instead, it was very much like the rest of the Tardis: bigger on the inside. Although the door was innocuous and average sized, the chamber within was cavernous. There were two levels to it, metal walkways visibly lined with copious racks of clothes. It was the ultimate walk-in wardrobe. Matthew, obviously used to the sight, had ploughed on unperturbed, but Harry took a few more moments to fully take it in.

"I love magic," he murmured, believing it profusely.

"I've found the robe section!" Matthew's voice drifted down from the upper level, echoing against the high walls.

When Harry eventually found him - he'd accidentally made a left turn and ended up in the fancy dress aisle - Matthew was already wearing a fancy assortment. It couldn't exactly be classed as dress robes though. It was a full blown suit, a traditional black and white number, including a top hat. He strangely suited it, especially when it was accompanied by his staff.

"Muggles have always had the better dress sense," he commented, checking himself out in a floor length mirror. "But I think the great Harry Potter should be wearing something a bit more acceptable to wizard norms." He was holding something fairly similar to what he had on, though Harry could already tell that it had a much longer tail at the back. He grimaced at the prospect. "Go try it on. I say that…it should automatically adjust to your size."

Harry paused as he took the clothes from him. "You're joking."

Matthew smiled sadly. "It was a charm that my…mum developed. This whole place was her idea. When they were creating the Tardis as a means for time travel, she decided that it had to be more than just a machine. She wanted it to be a home, which is why you've seen so many rooms lying around. I've obviously added to it over the years, but she set the blueprint."

"Is that…why you've always been so reluctant to agree to living somewhere else? Because your mum wanted it to be lived in? 'Cos I know Hermione was badgering you to stay at hers way before you told us the truth."

"I'd never thought of it like that. Perhaps. There was also the whole thing of…you know…neither of you having any idea about the Tardis existing. But…yeah…maybe you're right."

Harry went to try on his new outfit and, when he returned, discovering that Matthew hadn't been lying about the 'one size fits all' policy, he found his friend idly looking at a purple dress that was hanging from a nearby rail. He didn't appear to have noticed Harry's presence, softly stroking the fabric with a frown on his face.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. You couldn't even hear the Tardis engines from this deep in the ship.

Matthew turned around, abandoning his inspection of the gown. "Hmm? Oh, yes. It suits you, that outfit. You'll have all the girls clamouring around you for a dance. Probably some boys too."

Harry blanched at the thought. "When you said there would be dancing involved, I didn't even consider that it'd also include…you know…dancing with other people…a partner or something."

"You look like a deer caught in the headlights. You've faced down Voldemort too many times to count now, but you're scared at the prospect of having to ask someone out on a date." Matthew shook his head. "To be honest, that's completely understandable. There's nothing more terrifying than putting yourself out there."

Harry didn't really want to think about it until it had to happen. He nodded his head towards the dress. "Why were you looking at that?"

"Oh…it's just…if Hermione had been here, I would have given this to her, I reckon. It'd only be fair, since I'm donating an outfit to you. But I guess this is going to have to stay in storage for a little while longer yet."

Harry patted Matthew on the shoulder. "She will be coming back. She would have told us if something drastic had happened."

"I really hope you're right."

xxxxxxxxxx

Platform Nine and Three Quarters didn't seem as vibrant as it usually did. Nothing had changed about it. The decor was completely the same, and it was still packed with frantic families trying to make sure that their children remembered everything they'd need for the school year. But it was dulled by the fact that their compartment lay achingly empty. No word had come from Hermione, which they wanted to take as a good sign. It was proving to be a difficult task to remain positive in the face of possible anguish. Harry had waited for Hedwig or any other owl to appear with a letter attached to its talons, or for the phone to ring. Nothing. Radio silence. He'd considered writing to Dumbledore to ask him how his conversation had gone with the Grangers. He had even asked Matthew to take them to the Grangers' household so that they could find out what was happening for themselves. His friend, much to his surprise (and annoyance), had vetoed that idea, claiming it wouldn't help anything if they started barging into the personal matter. Harry didn't view it as such, believing it affected all of them.

The two boys had their faces pressed against the glass, hoping to see that bushy brown hair amongst the crowd. They'd decided to get there early, not that they had anything else to do, meaning they'd been able to have their pick of the compartments. They'd chosen one right next to the main doors of the Express, believing that would give them the best chance of spotting her. Even though there were multiple carriages to account for, and someone as small as Hermione could easily get obscured by the bustling crowds. Harry hadn't slept much the night before. Normally, that would have been down to the excitement of getting away from the Dursleys for another year. This time, it had been caused by that onrush of anxiety that refused to leave him alone. He couldn't imagine a school year with Hermione by his side, keeping them in check whilst often encouraging their hair-brained schemes. The castle would be empty without her.

"There's a lot of brooms this year," Matthew commented at one point, his tone empty and bored. "Students must be wanting to get involved with the quidditch matches. Did you hear that it was the World Cup this summer? Seems to have inspired a lot of people. I can just never stop thinking about the splinters you must get after flying for so long."

"Don't they keep brooms at school for try-outs?"

Matthew shrugged. Neither of them were remotely interested in the topic, but it was something to keep their minds distracted. "Probably not the best anymore. And old. There's only like 30 people in the entire school that end up playing for their Houses, so you've got to somehow stand out amongst everyone else. Having a fancy broom is probably your best bet. All the gear but no idea."

"That sounds an awful lot like you, Matthew."

They spun around instantly at the sound of that voice. Hermione stood in the doorway, beaming at them. Her eyes were shining too as she held back tears. Matthew wasn't wasting any time, charging over to her and giving her a hug, going as far as spinning her around as he lifted her from the ground. She yelled out in shocked delight at the unusual show of affection. Even Harry initiated a hug, when it was usually the other way around, though his embrace was a little more subdued and conventional. There was only so much spinning a girl could take in one go.

"You're here!" Matthew blurted out. "Oh, you don't know how happy I am! We've been worrying non stop!"

"You could have sent a letter!" Harry complained. "We had no idea what was going on!"

"I couldn't," she replied, and some of that sadness returned to her face. "I didn't want to get your hopes up and tell you I was definitely returning, because it felt like my parents' opinions on the matter have been changing from day to day."

They gave her room to sit down. Harry watched as the other two shared a bench, Matthew barely giving her any room. He could have laughed at how needy his friend appeared, as if he were desperate to make sure that this was real.

"How has everything been since we last saw you?" Matthew asked. "Have they been treating you well?"

"Of course they have," Hermione assured them. "They've just been…scared. Understandably so. And maybe they've sometimes taken those frustrations out on me, and each other. It's made meal times rather uncomfortable."

"But they eventually came to their senses…" Harry concluded tentatively, anticipating the rug being pulled from under him at any moment.

"It took a while. Even after Dumbledore spoke to them…it was like they wanted to avoid the topic for as long as possible. I could tell they didn't want to hurt me by taking this away from me…but they always don't want me to get hurt by staying. It's like there's no good option for them."

Matthew looked at her with those concerned blue eyes of his. "What did Dumbledore tell them?"

"Basically clarifying everything I'd outlined, mainly covering the past year. I didn't think it'd help our chances if we covered what happened before. That'd just be adding fuel to the fire. My parents obviously wanted to know how a criminal could get into the school or why it was down to three kids to solve everything. Honestly, I wanted those answers as well. Because it shouldn't have been up to us. If Sirius had been a murderer, then none of us would be standing here right now. Well, sitting but you know what I mean." Hermione was sounding more flustered than she normally did, though Harry was willing to let her off the hook given the circumstances.

"Did it help that they got to see Sirius?" he asked.

"I think so, though he didn't exactly stay for long or really…say anything. But the fact that this has happened after he was declared innocent, I reckon that had a lot to do with them eventually acquiescing." She was fiddling with her fingers nervously, evidently reliving the past torturous weeks. "In fact, they soon forgot everything about Sirius once Dumbledore started talking about Voldemort."

"He…what?! Why would he do that?" Harry was starting to wonder whether the headmaster had actually wanted her to return if he was bringing stuff like that up.

"Well, he obviously had to explain the disturbance at the Ministry and he couldn't do that without laying down the context. So he briefly went into detail about what happened over a decade ago and how they're still trying to weed out those who got away. Thankfully, he didn't mention the fact that we've had to fight him twice already. But…looking back on that…I think it was because of his honesty that my parents were willing to let me come."

"Still…I'm surprised they agreed after hearing about that for the first time," Matthew remarked. "Not that I'm complaining…it was just a massive risk on his part."

"He also had other tricks up his sleeve, which you'd come to expect from a man like Dumbledore. He used my grades to help persuade them, showing how well I was doing and what I'd be losing if I left. And what the school would be losing if I didn't return. I couldn't quite believe how much he was complimenting me at the time." Hermione was unable to hide the redness of her cheeks at the memory. "He also showed them your grades, to illustrate how I've surrounded myself with equally dedicated students. I think his point was that, if things were really bad, then we wouldn't have been able to concentrate as much on our school work. But we're right at the top of our year, especially for Gryffindor."

"Thank god I did all that revising," Harry said through a puff of relieved air. "I would have done even more if I'd known that there was this much riding on it."

"Well, you should have been taking your exams seriously enough as it is, frankly." Even now, she couldn't let the chance slip of reminding him how important his education was. She had her priorities.

"You're making it sound as if it was all easy in the end," Matthew pointed out, not believing that to be the case.

"Believe me, it wasn't. I've never seen my mum shout like that before. And I doubt anyone's spoken to Dumbledore in such a manner. I suppose they can't possibly know just how much that man has accomplished, which seemed to work to their advantage. My dad…he was more reluctant to let me come in the end. As angry as my mum was, she understands how important this is to me. I obviously speak to her more about…personal things. My dad was just viewing it from one side, a father looking out for his daughter. That's why it took them so long to decide."

Hermione paused as the train began to move away at last, its whistle blowing in farewell to the parents still waiting on the platform. Her family had chosen to stay on the Muggle side of the barrier this year, a new found hesitancy to magic on show. That had troubled her greatly, hoping it wasn't an indication of things to come.

"There were some caveats to their agreement though," she continued. "They want me to come home at Christmas, which I think is fair enough. I haven't spent one with them since our first year here, and it will be nice to wake up at home on Christmas morning."

"I guess we'll have to survive," Matthew said with a smirk.

"I'll have to wrap your present well in advance this year just in case I forget," Harry added.

Hermione smiled at them, grateful for their attempts at levity. "Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to add some certain…upgrades to our house. The fireplace has been connected to the Floo Network, but only to the one in his office. We don't need them accidentally transporting themselves to the wrong place, or having any accidents. I've heard plenty of horror stories about people having individual limbs go to different places to where the rest of them end up."

Harry winced at the image. "I think you've just put me off Floo travel forever."

"Another condition they had was that important decisions can't be made for me without their permission. You know, like being a witness in such a massive trial. I'm still a child, I suppose. And this will only affect big things. How likely is it that I'm going to be asked to do another trial?"

"Knowing our luck, do you really want me to answer that?" Matthew put to her.

She shook her head at his antics. "And to think I was almost free of your constant sarcasm."

All of their smiles fell as they considered just how close they'd been to never being a trio again. Matthew wasn't going to allow the sombre mood to continue, jumping as he heard the unmistakable squeak of wheels heading towards them. "The trolley's on its way and I feel like treating us! In celebration! How about one of each?"

"Just like the first time we were together on this train…I suppose I can't say no to tradition."

"You used to resist a lot more than this, Hermione. Harry, I think we've finally worn her down after all these years."

Matthew poked his head out of the compartment, eagerly waiting for the delivery of snacks. The trolley was currently stationed at someone else's cubicle (the audacity!) which gave him time to look around, frowning at how quiet it was.

"I'm surprised that we haven't heard from little Draco," he commented, closing the door once again after he grew bored. "He normally likes to show his pale face in greeting."

"He hasn't been the same for a while now," Harry pointed out. "We might have knocked the stuffing out of him after second year. I haven't thanked Dobby enough for what he did to Malfoy senior."

"And then there was that whole embarrassment at the start of last year," Hermione added. "Not to mention something interesting Dumbledore mentioned when he was at my house. With the former Death Eaters being under more scrutiny now, along with Pettigrew's expected testimony, the headmaster believes that some are making a run for it before it becomes too late. A lot of high ranking people face some serious consequences."

"Which will hopefully include Lucius," Matthew finished. "So…maybe Drace will continue to keep his head down and not risk doing any more damage to his dad's reputation."

"Good," Hermione sighed as she rested her head against the cushion behind her. "Because, after what's happened recently, the one thing I need is a quiet, normal year."