Yesterday.
| Vous vous agenouillez devant mon trône sans savoir qu'il a été construit sur des mensonges. |
*Listen to Yesterday - The Beetles for this Chapter*
Harry was hesitant at first when he saw the familiar Hogwarts owl perched upon his window at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. It had been less than a year since the battle, and although he was sure the letter the young barns owl was carrying was from the new Headmistress McGonagall, he was having qualms on whether or not to even open the window.
But the young barn owl was tenacious, pecking every so often on the window that Harry eventually decided to open it. Upon opening the window, the owl chirped and waited patiently for Harry to take his letter. With a sigh, Harry untied the letter from the owls leg, and placed a galleon in it’s pouch. The owl ruffled it’s feathers in gratitude and flew off, beginning it’s flight back home.
Harry sat down on the sofa in his drawing room, not bothering with a letter opener. He tore the seal, unfolding the parchment.
Dear Mr. Potter,
I am pleased to inform you that you are invited for a supplementary eighth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
please see the list below for required items.
Headmistress, McGonagall.
Harry blinked. That was short. No explanation? Nothing? Just ‘hey, look! You get to come back to a half-destroyed castle where you almost died seven times. You’re already running 50-50, lets run 60-40!’
Harry sighed, and set the letter aside, staring deep into his fire place. He(The author) was probably planning on having some deep inner monologue, but another peck was heard on his window. He looked over to see Ron’s owl, Pigwidgeon, excitedly flying around near the window, chirping loudly. Harry was familiar with the owl’s joyful behavior, and walked over to his window for the second time this morning.
When he finally opened the window, he ducked and yelped. Pigwidgeon zoomed in, flying around the ceiling happily. Harry made a face. It was too early for this.
Pigwidgeon calmed down finally, landing on Harry’s shoulder and nudging him. Harry took the letter attached to his leg, but the owl didn’t move.
”What?” Harry asked, furrowing his brows at Pigwidgeon. He just chirped persistently. It dawned on Harry that he must be waiting for Harry to read it, it seemed. Harry opened the letter, beginning to scan its contents.
Dear Harry,
Hermione supposed that you got the letter from Hogwarts already. Hermione and I did too, and she is now holding me at wand point to tell you this…
I don’t know how to put this lightly, but we think we should all go back. I know it sounds crazy, but it would really help to go back and experience seventh year! Hermione says that I think that this would help you with…your thoughts. We know you’re struggling Harry, and we think this will help you! Please respond soon, Hermione is getting nervous.
Send help Your best friend, Ron.
Harry looked at the letter, then at Pigwidgeon. Pigwidgeon still wasn’t moving from his perch on Harry’s arm. It then dawned on Harry that Pigwidgeon was probably waiting not for him to read it, but for him to respond. Harry assumed that Hermione thought he wouldn’t respond, and would, in fact, hide in Grimmauld Place for weeks. (Which was totally not true.)
Alas, with the incessant pecking of Pigwidgeon, Harry sat back down and summoned up a piece of parchment and a quill. He quickly jotted down a response, and once he gave it to Pigwidgeon, watching the mini-owl fly off, he only had one thought in his mind.
’I’m going to really regret this.’
| 🥀 |
They finally made it to Diagon Alley, and Harry was surprised to see all the new shops that had opened up. It was strange to see something so changed, when it had stayed stagnant for so many years.
One thing that made it all feel wrong was the fact the streets were empty of children scampering around to find the needed items on their list, or the streets so packed you could barely see the signs. It was busy, yes, but never as busy as it used to be around this time of year.
“We should go say hi to Neville, shouldn’t we, Harry? He’s been so excited to see us! He opened up a little herb shop.” Hermione told Harry excitedly. Harry smiled, nodding in agreement. He wasn’t surprised Neville had opened up a herb shop. He was always great with plants, and he knew it brought Neville comfort. It seemed like just yesterday Harry had been on these streets with Hagrid, everything so new and bright to him. A little boy, so unprepared for what the world had to offer him. So unprepared for the pain.
He shook the thought from his mind, and focused on the street ahead of him. He could feel the eyes on him, watching him. Some even pointed, many whispering under their breath. Just like he always did, he ignored them. It was easier that way, anyways.
They finally reached a small green shop, covered in vines and little trinkets and plants in the windows. Ron opened the door, a chime going off. A familiar head poked out from a corner, nose smudged with dirt.
”Ron!” Neville exclaimed, and upon seeing Hermione, got even more excited, and then, his eyes landing on Harry, his eyes widened. “Harry, mate! It’s so good to see you! I’m glad you guys came!” He exclaimed, and Harry got a welcome shock to the boys new forwardness. Harry gave a big grin, adjusting his glasses.
”Hey there, Neville! It’s been awhile,” Harry responded, waving. Neville walked up, taking off his gloves. Just then, something caught Harry’s eye. There was a shiny, expensive looking ring on Neville’s finger, and he raised a brow. “Whose the lucky one?” He asked, pointing at Neville’s finger.
This, though, was answered for him.
”Neville, dear, where did you—“ A voice called out. Blaise Zabini came from around the corner, eyes widening. “Oh,” he said, taking off his gloves. “Hello, Ron. Hello, Hermione.” He greeted, eyes roaming, before landing on Harry. His features cooled over to something different, more awkward and closed.
“Uhm, well…” Neville trailed off, fidgeting with his ring. “Listen, Harry, I know—“ he started, but Harry just shook his head. Plaster on the smile, Harry. Do it. And he did. He smiled gently, shaking his head.
”Don’t bother, mate. If you’re happy, I’m happy.” He assured, and Neville smiled. Blaise blinked, looking surprised, but he eventually walked over, putting a hand on Neville’s shoulder, a similar looking ring on his finger as well.
”Thank you, Potter.” Blaise muttered, and Harry paused. There were many things he wanted to ask. How? Why? And…
No. He shook the thought from his head. He wasn’t important right now. He would figure it out when he got to Hogwarts. Harry just put an amused look on his face.
”I’m not your parents. No need for my blessing or something like that, seriously.” He laughed out, smiling. Ron and Hermione looked relieved. Harry was reassuring himself, trying to keep his stereotypes out of his head. Desperately trying not to judge. He was a different person, surely, if he was with Neville.
The two smiled, one warmly, the other awkwardly. Harry looked around.
“So, mind lending us some stuff on our list, Longbottom? With a discount?” He winked, and Neville grinned.
”For free. Here, I think I have just what you need. I already have mine and Blaise’s things ready, since we live upstairs so things here are easily accessible.” Neville explained. Blaise went to the back for fresh supplies, and Harry silently thanked him, the awkwardness leaving for a moment.
”You’re awesome, Neville.” Ron praised, and Hermione shook her head, amused. Ron was still a fiend about saving money, even though with Harry’s help, they had more than enough money. Harry knew this was just Ron being paranoid, but he could understand. You do with what you have, but when you get more, you don’t really know what to do.
”Dean and Seamus are going to look after the shop while we’re gone. They decided not to go…” Neville explained as he gathered up ingredients. Harry was slightly surprised, but he’d always seen those two glued together, so he supposed they’d stick with each other no matter what.
”I’m pretty bummed out about that. I was hoping we could all be roommates again, like old times.” Ron expressed, and Harry felt a pang of longing in his chest. He ignored it.
”It’ll be alright. We can send them letters, I suppose,” Harry presented, and Ron visibly perked up at the idea. Harry smiled, looking at the different variants of plants. Hermione was staring at him, he could tell. He could feel it. He ignored this, too. She could always see through him, but it was best to not mention it. She’d learnt that.
Instead, he focused on the color of the soil in front of him.
Harry picked up his bags of things, some of which were Hermione’s overcompensating, but he didn’t mind. They had said goodbye to Neville and Blaise with hundreds of thank-you’s, and set off for the rest of their things. The sun had begun to set, and Harry was listening to Ron and Hermione bicker once more.
This gave him comfort, now that he thought about it. He could almost imagine they were back at Hogwarts, and Ron was begging Hermione to write his Potions essay, and Hermione was telling him to do it himself. But she’d eventually cave in and Ron would worship the ground she walked on for a few days. And he’d watch and laugh, and things would be wonderful, and grey eyes would be—
Oh, Potter, get your damn head out of the gutter.
Harry sighed, and tried to focus himself back onto the conversation. Thankfully so, because Hermione turned her head to him and asked, “Harry, who else do you think will be attending Hogwarts this year? I hope it’s all of our friends. I’ve been so busy this past year, I haven’t had the chance to mail any of them letters or send an owl!” Hermione confided, seeming disappointed by this prospect. Harry didn’t really know who was going to be there. He also hoped their friends would be there with them, but he mainly just wanted to get it over with. He would make an excuse as to why he didn’t send anybody letters, but about the only think he’d done this past year was sit in Grimmauld Place and do a rotation that went something like: renovate, clean, sleep.
”I’m not sure,” Harry decided to say, thinking about it. He supposed it’d be nice to see Luna, or Dean. But Dean and Thomas would be at the herb shop, and he never knew with Luna.
”I think Ginny will be going…” Ron hesitantly stated, and Hermione shot him a look. Harry paused. Ginny was a year younger than them, but she was going for eighth year?
”But Ginny wasn’t in seventh year,” Harry pointed out, brows furrowing.
”well, she got a letter from McGonagall, stating that if she wanted to come, she could. She really excelled it her sixth year, you see, and she was going to skip ahead anyways, before…” Ron trailed off. Hermione face palmed, pinching her nose.
”Yeah,” Was all Harry said. “Good for her, I guess,” he muttered, crossing his arms. Hermione gave him a look.
”Harry, don’t be a child,” she scolded lightly, and Harry gaped at her. He was not being a child!
”I am not! I— I am just…” Harry trailed off, searching for the words to express himself. Oh, dear.
”Being butthurt?” Ron chimed in, looking bothered. Harry narrowed his eyes.
”She left me at a low point, and I just feel as though—“ Harry began, but Ron cut him off quickly.
”You were emotionally unavailable! You refused to talk to anybody and all you could think about was that stupid fe—“ Ron was going to continue, but Hermione slapped him on his arm, hard.
”both of you! Honestly, Ronald. Harry, quit making problems.” She hissed at both of them angrily. They huffed, proceeding to pout like children. She shook her head, crossing her arms.
This was going to be a long, long year.
| 🥀 |
Harry lugged his trunk across Kings Cross Station, finally seeing sight of a ginger head.
”Ron!” He called out, and the bright head turned. It was, indeed, Ron. He grinned at Harry, with Hermione waving a hand in the air.
”Feels just like old times, eh?” Ron asked, and Harry grinned in agreement. Hermione was, of course, perfectly neat, and with one large trunk and a small bag. Ron looked as though a hurricane had run through him, which was to be expected.
”Old times,” Harry answered, staring at the wall between platforms 9 and 10. For a moment, he truly hoped that when they tried to enter the wall, they would simply hit brick.
But he told himself this was worth it. That he wasn’t wasting his time. Because thats what he always did.
”Are we ready?” Hermione asked, looking excited. Ron smiled at her warmly and nodded.
”Yeah, ready,” He stated, picking up his trunk and beginning to walk with Hermione and Ron.
And then, they went from muggle-packed station to the loud, steam-filled platform. Harry’s heart clenched, and his eyes scanned the expanse of the platform, seeing familiar faces. This year, the platform wasn’t near as crowded as it usually was, only consisting of eighth year students and their parents. Some were even without parents, simply putting their luggage onto the train and getting on silently.
Harry turned to Ron, about to ask where Mrs. Weasley was, but his question was soon answered.
“Harry, dear!” Molly Weasley exclaimed, holding her arms out for a hug. Harry laughed genuinely, smiling and letting Molly embrace him in a bone crushing hug. He hugged back hard, though not as nearly as much as Mrs. Weasley was. He coughed, tapping Mrs. Weasley’s shoulder. She stepped back, and Harry noticed Ginny behind her, silently watching.
”Hello, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry greeted, “Ginny,” He said curtly.
”Harry.” She responded, arms crossed and hair shorter than he remembered. Harry was going to open his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a voice once again. Seriously?! He wondered loudly in his head. Why is it that Harry Potter can be The Boy Who Lived, but not The Boy Who Spoke?! Fuck you, cards of fate.
”Weasley, hurry up now! We should be leaving soon.” Pansy Parkinson called out, stalking up in tall, black heels and eyeliner sharp enough to kill any man. She gave Harry a look of distaste but regarded Ron and Hermione with a curt, polite nod and a smile to Mrs. Weasley.
”Oh, yeah. Sorry, Parkinson. See you all on the train, I suppose.” Ginny bid goodbye, hugging her mother tightly and waving. Pansy strangely grabbed Ginny’s hand and stalked off, Ginny following quickly after.
”Since when was—“ Harry started, but Ron held up a hand.
”Don’t even,” he shivered visibly. Harry looked at him, dumbfounded.
”Ronald Weasley, do not even mention anything horrible! I expect you to be kind to Ms. Parkinson this year!” Mrs. Weasley scolded, and Harry snorted loudly. He covered his mouth.
”Oh, don’t get me started on you, Harry Potter. I expect you to be kind to Mr. Malfoy, as well.” Mrs. Weasley pivoted on Harry. Harry bristled. Draco— Malfoy was going to be at Hogwarts for eighth year? Harry hadn’t spoken to him since his family’s trial, and even then, it wasn’t very long winded. He tried to push down the thought, and instead made a face and a grim “Yes ma’am.”
After Ron got a good scold and Hermione and Harry a kiss on the cheek, they finally began to board the Hogwarts Express.
Harry inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. He counted to five. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
And he stepped foot onto the train, following after Ron and Hermione. They were already looking for compartments, and they surprisingly weren’t finding much luck. Harry opened a compartment, checking for—
Oh, shit.
Lavender Brown and Luna Lovegood were locked in a rather passionate…embrace, and their lips were locked just as fervently. Harry cleared his throat and slammed the compartment door shut. Giggles ensued behind the door. He turned to Ron, who began to double over laughing. Hermione sighed and shook her head.
”Ron, don’t be so childish!” She chided. Harry kicked Ron in the shin, which promptly shut up his laughter, replacing it with a yelp of pain and a grim look as they continued to walk down the hall. Their search finally came to an end when they found an empty compartment in the middle. They settled into it, Harry looking out the window.
”Harry, quit brooding.” Hermione prompted immediately. Harry snapped his head over quickly.
”I am not brooding!” He argued quickly. Ron smiled, and Harry knew that look.
”I think Harry’s depressed because he doesn’t have a pretty girl to snog,” he continued, “I’m attracted to you, Harry, don’t worry!” He drawled sarcastically, on the verge of laughter.
”My foot is attracted to your arse, Weasley.” Harry grumbled, and Ron busted into laughter. This got a snort out of Hermione, and this made Harry smile. It felt like forever, yet just yesterday, when they had sat on this train and laughed until their stomachs ached. He allowed himself a moment of reprieve, and began to laugh as well.
This was interrupted, as everything seemed to be horribly interrupted today, by the compartment door opening.
Harry and the others turned their heads. They were greeted by pale, platinum blonde hair and grey eyes.
Draco Malfoy.
There was a gasp from two people, and it’s quite obvious who the two were. The compartment door was slammed shut, and then Harry was springing up from his seat, Hermione calling out his name in surprise.
Harry yanked open the compartment door, stepping out into the hall. But there was nobody. Empty. Harry’s shoulders slacked, and he sighed deeply.
”Harry!” Ron exclaimed, and Harry turned his head back to face the two. Ron looked incredulous, and Hermione thoughtful. “Was that really…” Ron trailed off. Harry walked back in, shutting the door softly.
”Yeah, Ron.” Harry confirmed, leaning against the door.
He was definitely right in his regret.