Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Harry woke up to the smell of bacon and the soft coos of Pigwidgeon. It had been months now that he could wake up relaxed, easing into the routine of the Weasleys. After all he’d been through, the consistency felt nice. He stretched his arms and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before putting on his glasses and blinking the world into a sharp image. Glancing around the room, he noticed that Ron was already awake, given his bed was an empty lump of sheets. This was the first time all summer that Ron had gotten up before Harry, and he suspected it was due to the occasion – their return to Hogwarts.
Harry and his best friends had honestly not anticipated living through the war, but eventually reality caught up to them and they were forced to confront their next steps. Harry had immediately been offered a job as an auror following Voldemort’s downfall, and Ron thought he would land some job at the Ministry. It was Hermione that proposed the trio go back to schooling.
"If you think about it, we’ve only completed six years,” she’d said. The two boys -- her boys -- were still in a post-war stupor at the time, not willing to dwell on their days at Hogwarts quite yet.
“Hermione,” Ron said, through a mouthful of lunch, “we’re 18 now. We’re too old for Hogwarts. Besides, what can they teach us that we don’t already know?”
“Lots of things, Ron,” Hermione said with a stubborn edge in her voice. “After all that happened, we deserve a chance to be normal students.” She looked at Harry for defense, but he was too stunned with the flood of emotion to say anything, so she continued. “Refinement. New spells. New potions. You’re never too old to learn. Besides, after Voldemort’s downfall, they’re bound to teach students differently. The whole curriculum will be different and I don’t want to miss out!”
Harry’s breath hitched imperceptibly when Hermione said Voldemort’s name. Not because he was scared – he hadn’t been scared of saying Voldemort’s name in years – but because Hermione said it so boldly. In a way, it was comforting. It served as another reminder that he really was gone. “I can’t go back without you,” she concluded.
When he looked up, he caught Hermione’s gaze. She had a sparkle in her eye talking about Hogwarts and the idea of going back. He mulled it over and after a bit of debate with Ron, they eventually decided to enroll at Hogwarts for their final year.
Ginny walked over to Harry and pecked him on the cheek. “Morning sweetheart,” she trilled. Ginny, of course, was returning with them. She had been absolutely riotous when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley asked if she might take a gap year. That was something that always impressed Harry about his fiery girlfriend – her unabashed way of standing up for herself. It was a skill she grew into over the past few years, and it made Harry’s heart skip a beat every time she’d stride over to him and grab him boldly by the shoulders to plant a kiss on his mouth.
Ron was sitting on the counter, leaning his chin onto Hermione’s head, who was standing between his legs. His hands carelessly rested at her hip. When Hermione lifted her gaze from the morning’s issue of The Daily Prophet, she gave Harry a soft smile.
“Oy, Harry!” Ron exclaimed with a bit of devilish excitement. “We made the paper!” Harry looked surprise, and grabbed it from Hermione’s hands.
“Hey!” she quipped.
“Sorry,” Harry muttered as he thumbed through the black and white pages and moving pictures. He came across the article Ron was talking about. Golden Trio Start Final Term at Hogwarts – Again! the paper read. Harry rolled his eyes. He shoved the paper back at Hermione and sat down, not wanting to read any further. He had hoped that defeating Voldemort would be the end to his fame. He thought he’d be able to settle down with Ginny and live a nice life in peace.
“The Golden Trio,” Harry said, “I mean, c’mon.”
“At least they’re finally getting recognition,” he heard Ginny lament. And he knew she was right. For so long it had been Harry versus the world. Beyond the solidarity, he was glad his friends were getting the flowers they clearly deserved.
“It’s just a cheesy title,” he said as he chomped on a piece of bacon. He hoped the paper wouldn’t be an omen to how the year would go.
Harry watched different Weasleys float in and out of the kitchen as the morning progressed. He was definitely going to miss it here. The Weasleys were the family he never had but always wanted. The way they absorbed and protected people like him and Hermione was what made them some of his favorite people. All summer he’d gotten to know the eldest Weasley children, too. Bill, and his wife Fleur decided to travel around the world for a while after the Battle of Hogwarts, and in-between each trip they’d spend a couple weeks with their family. Charlie moved back home for a while too, before agreeing (or being bullied into) getting a flat with Percy. But Percy had proved to be so insufferable, that Charlie visited enough to make it seem as if he’d never left. He’d come in, flopping onto the couch and complaining about “our tight-ass prat of a brother, lecturing me about chores and informing me about the inner-workings of the Ministry.”
It was hard for Charlie to walk back into life at the Weasleys after being in Romania so long. Charlie was an independent spirit. He wore all black all the time, painted his nails, and sometimes sported a dangly earring to the horror of his mum. He’d even had a secret tattoo on his back of a dragon breathing fire. A clever charm made it so the dragon flew up and down his spine.
But besides the commentary on his style choices, Charlie struggled with Percy’s betrayal and Fred’s death. They all did, of course, but after George and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie seemed to have the most grief. He wished he had never gone to Romania, he confessed to Harry one night when he was drunk. Harry told him he didn’t mean it, but Charlie insisted as tears welled in his eyes. That was the first time Harry had ever thought any boy was pretty. The grief carved Charlie’s features delicately, forming the man who got lost in his work with gritty dragons into a different specimen entirely.
It was with Charlie that Harry opened up about his nerves returning to Hogwarts. About how sad it made him, in a way. It wasn’t the Hogwarts he fell in love with at age 11. This was a post-war Hogwarts, where Dumbledore and Snape and Lupin and Fred would never again step foot in. It’s where he faced Voldemort for the last time, and where so many innocent people took their last breath. He wanted so desperately to relive the pure magic of boating across the lake and seeing McGonagall’s soft smile when he’d been sorted Gryffindor. He wanted the stupid late-night adventures with Ron and Hermione. He wanted the bliss of a Hogwarts that hadn’t yet put him in peril.
On the plus side, McGonagall was now the headmaster. When Hermione found out, she immediately scribbled a letter to be sent by owl. She needed to know what McGonagall could do as far as accommodations since they would not be the typical students. McGonagall’s reply came the next day. She was in agreement that matriculation would be different, and assured Hermione that they could expect any resources for maintaining optimal mental health. The letter also mentioned first pick of class schedule, access to a special dormitory that was being built for eighth year students, and the promise to negotiate any other contingencies. The three of them would be offered enrollment in a new class taught by an incoming professor for those with advanced skill in combative magic and magical defense. In true McGonagall fashion, she made sure to include that they should NOT expect leniency in grading, pity, special privileges, or any other pish posh of the sort. Ron and Harry were immediately thrilled, but Hermione pouted.
“I’m writing back,” she said.
“Why?” Harry questioned as she furiously scribbled with a fresh quill.
“Because I want to be re-instated as Head Girl and I want access to the restricted section of the library.”
Ron laughed warmly from his chest. “You tell her, darling.” In the end, Hermione (mostly) got her way. McGonagall said that she could co-Head Girl, but giving her the sole title would be unfair to the incoming student. Additionally, the restricted section of the library would soon be rid of all dangerous dark magic books and then open to all students with approval from the librarian.
It seemed so soon after Harry’s discovery of the headline of the news that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came bustling into the room saying that it was time for them to get going to King’s Cross. The lot of them set off in just as much of a messy haste as ever.
Walking into King’s Cross was surreal. Arthur and Molly were the first to press through the brick wall to get to Platform 9 ¾. Following them was Charlie, shadowed by Percy, then Ron and Hermione. Harry and Ginny were last. Even with the crowded station, it still felt empty with George not here. He told the family he couldn’t stomach it. So Harry stood alone with Ginny’s hand wrapped in his for a few more seconds. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against her fingers.
“Ready for the Hogwarts Express?” Ginny asked, eyes twinkling. Harry raised her hand to his lips and kissed it before saying of course. Ginny rushed through with zero fear, disappearing in a flash of red hair.
After Harry dipped through the brick and mortar he found the platform feeling like home. The dozens of families wrapping their kids in their arms made him smile almost as much as the first years waving with their heads poking out through the windows. It was hard not to notice the smaller class size. “It’s a rebuilding year” McGonagall had said to the Daily Prophet in reference to the dwindling numbers. “Hogwarts will be bursting with students again in a few years’ time. The world has changed.” She didn’t need to say that a significant portion of the student body had died, and the parents of incoming students were scared silly, many of them choosing not to send their children off yet.
In a way Harry felt too old to be going back to school, but in a different, more prominent way, he felt a pulse of excitement and potential filling him.
The train was smooth as it started speeding off the tracks. Ginny was waving goodbye to her brothers and parents, and Ron and Hermione were talking in quiet voices. Harry didn’t want to interrupt, so he decided after a while to go explore the train cars and search for some familiar faces.
Before long he had traipsed up and down several cars, seeing nobody from his original class. It weighed heavy on his heart that there weren’t more of them here. He couldn’t let himself think if most of the absences were innocent, or if they were attached to students he laid down their lives for Hogwarts. Harry was dangerously close to falling into a depression when a long shimmer of blonde, wavy hair caught his attention. He rushed up to the girl and plopped down in front of her.
“Oh, hello, Harry,” Luna said in a sweet voice. “How are you?” She spoke softly just as she always had, like nothing changed.
“I’m fine, Luna, and you?” He paused for a moment before continuing. “It is so good to see you. Hermione and Ron are here as well.”
She smiled widely. “That’s lovely!” she said. “Are you lot staying in the new dormitory? It’s a small one near where the bridge used to be. You know, the one Seamus blew up?” her wide eyes bore into him. Harry felt a jolt of pain slither down his body when she talked about the destruction from the Battle of Hogwarts, but nodded and smiled through it.
“Oy, is Neville here?” he asked.
“No,” Luna said nonchalantly. “He’s been given a job at a magical plant greenhouse. Research, mostly. He really loves it. He brings my dad and me organic dirigible fruit and all sorts of magical plants to snack on. He says the mulch helps his head stay clear.” The way Luna talked was as if she was reporting information. Which made sense, Harry thought, considering her dad was a journalist with his own magazine. “Harry,” Luna said, snapping him out of his thoughts, “remember to sweep for nargles. They’ve really been prominent this year.” She flipped her pink and blue glasses down from her forehead and gave him another wide smile.
“Sure thing, Luna” Harry said as he stood up. “We’ll get lunch sometime.” His mind was still with Luna when he ran into the last person he wanted to see.
Draco Malfoy stared Harry down.