At the Hour - Book Two

Hermione noticably faltered, but Harry didn’t notice. “Hello!” Harry called brightly, waving cheerfully. An image of the Black family tree came to him. Luna’s mother, Pandora Rosier, had been distantly related to Regulus Black. That made Luna the sixth-or-so cousin to Draco.

“Hello, Harry,” Luna said in her whimsical, airy voice. She greeted him like they were old friends, and Harry desperately wanted to tell her they were, but could not. If there was anyone who would believe him, it would be Luna.

“Luna Lovegood, right? I heard you’re Xenophilius’ daughter. He writes the Quibbler. Would you like to be friends?”

Hermione was dumbfounded, looking him and Luna up and down. Luna smiled to her.

“How lovely. No one told me the Harry Potter was so interesting. Everyone needs an interesting person in their life, don’t you think? Here, take a copy of the Quibbler. Father would love to here his work getting recognition. Have you got a few Sickles on you?”

Harry handed her enough money for two and handed Hermione a copy of the Quibbler, who seemed happy to meet Luna.

“This is Hermione Granger, she’s brilliant. We’re on our way to Draco Malfoy’s cabin, care to join us?”

And so Harry, Hermione, and Luna went on their way to the Slyherin section. Hermione and Luna walked in front of him, talking about a section in the Quibbler that had peaked Hermione’s interest. If there was anything Hermione loved, it was a good debate.

Harry quickly spotted Draco’s compartment. He must’ve just come on to the train, seeing as he was hauling his trunk in. Ivan and Pansy were with him, too. Once she spotted Harry and Hermione, Pansy squealed at pulled them into a quick hug. Ivan laughed, shaking Hermione’s hand and flicking Harry’s ear.

“Good to see you again,” Ivan grinned. He had dyed his hair the blue and pink, some white spots. Harry recognized it as the trans flag colors. “Who have you got with you, a first year? Pleased to meet you, I’m Ivan. This is Pansy.” He smiled, sticking out a hand.

Luna shook it, but not in the normal up-and-down motion. Their hands went clockwise, like tracing a circle. Luna beamed. Pansy looked amused, but not unkind.

“Nice to see you lot too,” Harry smiled. “This is Luna Lovegood. Her father writes the Quibbler, great paper.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luna said. She shook Pansy’s hand in the same motion, who blinked twice but patted Luna on the shoulder and took out some Sickles.

The five of them clambered back into the compartment. Somehow, Luna ended up side-to-side with Draco. They shared the same unique haircolor, the same angular features and elegant fingers.

“Luna Lovegood?” Draco asked. “Huh. I thought you were going to that private academy in Norway. That’s what Mother said, at least.”

“You two know eachother?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Hermione! Harry! I missed you!” He finally noticed them, and tackled them to the other seats. Hermione let out an oof.

“Draco!” Harry laughed, the same time Hermione wheezed, “You’re crushing my lungs.”

Draco let Hermione free, instead wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and hugging him properly, like how Harry wanted to in Diagon Alley, except he was so high on his excitement he forgot to hug him back, and Draco released him all too quickly.

Draco swung an arm around Harry’s shoulders and they settled in. Harry sat closest to the door, Draco in between him and Luna. Hermione sat in between Ivan and Pansy, teaching them how to play thumb wars.

“Yeah, Luna’s a family friend. Of my mother’s, at least. Oh Luna, have you got a copy of the Quibbler by any chance…”

Everyone turned to their own individual conversations, then listened to Pansy’s exciting stories in China. Harry laughed easily. Pansy would make a great storyteller.

The candy trolley came. Draco and Hermione quite literally yanked him back from the doorway, making Ivan in charge of buying a decent amount of sweets. It seemed they had forgotten Ivan was less than sensible, and bought double the amount of pumpkin pasties Harry would have. Vince and Greg in the next compartment audibly groaned.

As they ate, Harry noticed a bandage on Draco’s hand. He froze. Draco caught him looking and held his gaze, somewhere between defiant and afraid. Harry touched his wrist gently, relieved when he didn’t flinch away.

His soft gray eyes closed. Dark rings burdened his eyes. Before Harry knew what was going on, Draco had fallen asleep. Right on Harry’s shoulder.

As Luna, told Ivan about the behaviors of stoned Nifflers, Hermione and Pansy debated about some myth’s version or the other about Dionysus’ cult. But all Harry could focus on was the steady rhythm of Draco’s breaths. As he fell deeper into sleep, he slumped closer into Harry. He smelled like Christmas.

His soft, pink lips were parted slightly. He breathed easily. His head curved perfectly in the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry hoped his hair wouldn’t tickle Draco’s nose the wrong way or something.

It wasn’t until the sun set when Harry tentatively rested his head on Draco’s. He made no movement of protest, only sighing softly and leaning further into Harry.

Harry fell asleep to the waking of the stars.

…

Harry woke just before the train stopped to the sound of Pansy and Ivan giggling. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked. The sky was pitch black outside, Cepheus the constellation glowing. Cepheus the cat was purring from Luna’s hood.

The train came to a full stop. The others piled out, Harry waving dismissively, saying he would be ready in a second.

The train was empty. Quiet, except for Draco’s deep breathing. He looked so peaceful.

“Draco…we’re here.” Harry tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear. Draco mumbled incoherently, yawning softly. His head left Harry’s shoulder. Draco stretched his catlike limbs with a grunt.

“Thanks for letting me sleep,” Draco said quietly.

Harry nodded, slowly reaching for Draco’s bandaged hand. His hands trembled slightly. He undid the bandage, but not before asking for Draco’s permission.

It was a shallow wound, but a wound nonetheless. Under the cobra-teeth cuts was a bruise, most likely from Lucious slapping away Draco’s hand. Harry cast a healing spell on it. Thankfully, it didn’t scar.

“Thank you.” Draco and him were the same height now. His lashes were long, Harry noticed.

“Of course.” He released Draco’s hand, watching out of the corner of his eye as it fell to Draco’s side limply. “Let’s go. I hope we aren’t late to the boats.”

…

The Sorting Hat muttered thoughtfully as it sat atop of a young boy’s dreadlocks.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” it called out. The hall cheered.

McGonagall shouted, “Lovegood, Luna.”

The hall quieted. A few first years snickered as Luna walked up the stairs. Harry’s eye twitched as he watched them.

“Mhmm, I haven’t gotten this pure a soul since…my, loyalty, acceptance, but also cleverness. Bravery, too…but what’s this? Boundless creativity, how extraordinary! You are quite the individual, dear Luna. RAVENCLAW!”

Slytherin house cheered louder than Ravenclaw did. Harry cast a sound amplifying charm on those Smurfs out of spite.

Luna beamed. The sorting continued. Harry shot her a grin.

After the feast, she came to the Slytherin table.

“My mother was in Ravenclaw, mind you, but her brother was in Slytherin. I was hoping for either of the two, but I hear Ravenclaw Tower has a lovely view of the Great Lake.”

Theo, who seemed to have taken a liking to her, struck up a conversation with her about the books in the Restricted section. Luna was easy to converse with- you could talk with her about anything. Harry went off to the Gryffindor table, thankful to see Ron there in one piece.

They chatted before the Prefects led them to their dormitories. When Harry left, Hermione was telling Ron about Luna and how she would get along with Ginny.

Harry didn’t go with the Slytherins down to the dungeons. Instead, he headed to the Hospital wing.

“Hi, Madam Pomfrey?” He ignored the way he knew all of the beds would be full of paralyzed Basalisk victims.

“Harry!” she exclaimed. “How have you been this summer? Taking you sleeping potions? Professor Snape left a package in your dorm, he said…I’ll just give you one right now…” She turned her back on him.

“Yeah, I’ve been sleeping well his summer. Thank you for taking care of me last year.”

She stopped, clearing her throat. “Of course, Mr. Potter. Here’s your potion.” She smiled tightly at him. “Best be off to bed, now. We wouldn’t want you losing Slytherin house points for wandering the school after hours.”

Harry wondered if it made her ache saying “Mr. Potter” the way that little bit when Harry was called “Mr. Potter.”

“I’m glad to see you again this year. Goodnight, Madam Pomfrey.”

He didn’t quite catch what she said, but he was sure he’d heard the words, “my boy.”

…

Harry stared at Tom Riddle’s diary.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? he thought. The only thing that would kill in was the Basalisk tooth.

To break the fourth wall, Harry wondered if he could just go to the girl’s bathroom on the second floor, open the Chamber of Secrets, Avada Kedavra the Basalisk, and be done with it. Then he could spend the rest of the year free of worrying about this stupid chamber. Except for one tiny problem.

Here he was at the top of the second floor staircase, diary in hand, hidden by the invisibility cloak.

He could move down the stairs and left and all that, but when he tried to go right to the girl’s bathroom he was stuck. He tried running, walking, crawling, even Levitating himself but nothing worked.

He had the same stuck feeling he did when he tried to say he was from the future.

Was that it? If he want to change the future too drastically, would some invisible force prevent him from doing so?

So that was that. Harry half-heartedly tried going past the invisible barrier, but remained unsuccessful. Since he didn’t fancy losing his head and this tactic was as useful as talking to a brick wall, Harry returned to the dungeons.

He finished showering and brushing his teeth and changing. He hung up some 70s and 80s band posters on his section of the dorm as Theo and Blaise argued where the garlands should end. Ivan and Draco were in the common room with Tracy and Millicent.

Soon, everyone went to bed. Harry had cast many charms on the diary, and was just about to join them before something came up.

The Marauders Map.

It started in August, when Harry was pretending to be awful and wandless magic to not arouse Hermione’s suspicion. Instead of parchment, he accidently cast a water-soaking charm on the map.

In neat handwriting, the following words appeared:
Messr. Moony can genuinely not fathom why you would think soaking this unassuming piece of parchment would benefit you.

Messr. Wormtail would like to suggest you are verbal and not aquatic.

Messr. Padfoot wants to make it clear he does not believe a simpleton such as yourself, resorting to third year charms, is deserving of this glorious creation.

Messr. Prongs insists that Messr. Padfoot is bonkers, and encourages you to follow Messr. Wormtail’s advice.

When Hermione had gone to sleep, Harry would “talk” to the Marauders. He had learned to separate the Peter of before and after. Before Peter was clever and funny. He was valued.

The best part was that they seemed to remember what Harry had told them the night before. They made jokes with Harry and treated him as one of them. They told him about their pranks, and Harry told them about Fred and George’s.

Unfortunately, it seemed these Marauders were carefree and careless only. Harry never knew how to ask them about serious topics, which were always met with a Sirius joke. That, and he could never talk to one of them alone.

He had stopped talking to them for a while. It hurt too much to be so close and yet so distant from a barely-person. Until tonight.

He cast a Silencing charm around himself.

“Can I tell you about me?” Harry whispered.

They agreed, with varying degrees of enthusiasm and a snarky comment about narcissism.

“My name’s Harry Potter,” he said softly. “My father is James Potter. My mother is Lily Evans. My godfather is Sirius Black. My parents also knew Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, and Mary MacDonald and Marlene McKinnon. I’m a Gryffindor at Hogwarts, second year.”

Messr. Padfoot asked for Harry to turn away. And he did, mostly because last time he didn’t that fateful day, he had to cure a stinging hex on himself, by himself without anyone knowing.

The map flapped a bit at the corner, signaling Harry could turn around.

Messr. Moony would like to tell Harry he hopes he’s more like Lily than James. He also thinks it a feat James Potter pulled Lily Evans.

Messr. Wormtail criticizes James Potter for naming Sirius Black as godfather and not the sensible Peter Pettigrew, but warmly greets Harry Potter nonetheless.

Messr. Padfoot desires to sing his praises of the gorgeous Sirius Black, and would like to inform Harry Potter how to pick a lock or three (at once).

Messr. Prongs is over the moon to know the child of the fabulous James Potter and awe-striking Lily Evans. He accepts Minnie’s thanks for blessing her with such a child.

Harry stared at the map. He took it to his bed, stuck it under his pillow, took his sleeping potion and went to sleep. In the morning, he wouldn’t remember the half of it.