Daisy and Dahlia

Harry awoke to find himself on the floor, laid out in the recovery position, with the twins screaming his name and apparently attempting to strangle him, while Dobby was in the throes of self-punishment. Neville was on the floor beside him, just pushing himself to a sitting position. Above the twins' screams, he could hear Hermione arguing with Malfoy: apparently Hermione had tried to put Nott in the recovery position after he passed out, and Malfoy disapproved of Muggle first aid, and of Hermione touching any pureblood with her muggle-contaminated hands; Hermione, meanwhile, was deeply insulted, and highly scathing about the quality of Malfoy's friendship if he would prefer his friend to risk choking, rather than have him be helped by someone he didn't get on with. Nott groaned.

"Shove off, both of you," he said. "My head hurts." He had rather an impressive bruise coming up on his forehead; apparently none of his friends had managed to break his fall.

"Thanks for helping us, Hermione," said Harry, trying to adjust the stranglehold to something more sustainable. "What happened? Why did we pass out?"

"Dementors," croaked Ron.

"If it wasn't for Nott, I'd say it was because you and Longbottom were just weaker than everyone else," said Malfoy. "None of the rest of us fainted." Harry could have sworn he saw Zabini kick Malfoy's ankle. "Obviously it must be more complicated."

"I'd read about Dementors, of course," said Hermione, "but really I had no idea. Right after you passed out, the train came to a halt, and all the lights went out. There were a couple of thumps, which must have been Neville and Nott fainting, and then some confused shouting. Ron and Malfoy both seemed to think each other was responsible."

"Like he wouldn't do that kind of thing," said Ron, at the same time that Malfoy said, "One could hardly blame me for the assumption." They coloured.

"Zabini and I did Lumos," she continued, "and then so did Parkinson, and I conjured some of the bluebell flames. And then we saw it. The dementor. All in black rags, skeletal hands, floating. So cold. And making us feel terrible. It didn't move away. It just stood there, waiting. We couldn't get away. Zabini tried, but there were others each side of it, menacing people in other compartments. D- your house elf had a shield up, but it was wavering. I got the tablet you'd been using to communicate with your lawyer, and sent a message. Parkinson had some sort of communication notebook she had set up to speak to her older sister - all right, Parkinson, I'm not telling everyone that, but Harry and Neville should know you did your bit to help save us. And so should Nott, I suppose." Nott snorted. It was clear he didn't actually care for Hermione's acknowledgement. "We waited. It was getting harder and harder to keep our lights going. Then there were silver lights in the distance, and when they became clearer, we could see they were animals. Animals made of silver light. A phoenix, a magpie, and a cat."

"Patronus charms," said Zabini. "It's post-NEWT-level. Very few adults can cast it."

"They chased the Dementors away," Hermione continued, clearly having every intention of researching all about the Patronus Charm at a later date. "It was still cold, and we were still miserable, but it was less... oppressive, somehow. We could breathe again. The professors were going up and down the carriages, checking everyone was all right. Then some Aurors showed up, too. One with a lynx patronus-"

"Auror Shacklebolt," said Zabini.

"Thank you, Auror Shacklebolt. He came to check we were all all right, and that nobody had been Kissed. Took some notes. He didn't seem to disapprove of my first aid." Daisy and Dahlia were now sobbing relatively quietly as Harry rocked them.

"Who was screaming?" he asked. "Besides the girls, I mean. I heard a woman screaming."

"I heard a man and a woman," said Neville.

"I only heard the woman," said Harry.

"No-one else was screaming," said Ron. "Just those two. As if that wasn't enough." Nott rolled his eyes.

"Dementors force people to dwell on bad memories," he said. "They can make you re-live your worst ones, apparently. Like being there all over again. And whatever your worst memory is, and Longbottom's, they apparently both involve someone screaming." Sideways looks were exchanged. It would, apparently, be crass to speculate out loud as to the nature of Harry and Neville's worst memories, and Nott clearly had no intention of saying anything about his own.

"And they use those as prison guards," spat Hermione. "That's torture. It's inhumane. Barbaric."

"Oh, do your reading, Granger," said Zabini. "The Declaration of Human Rights is post-Statute of Secrecy. So is the Geneva Convention. You're supposed to be halfway knowledgeable, for a Gryff."

"So the wizarding world doesn't have human rights?" asked Hermione, almost too shocked to be insulted.

"Never heard of them," said Ron, oblivious. "Dad might know. He likes muggle things."

"The Wizarding World has plenty of rites and rituals!" said Malfoy. "Even if Dumbledore and his cronies want to see them all banned." There was a cough from the doorway.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy!" said Professor McGonagall. "Why am I not surprised? Anyway, Potter, Nott, Longbottom, with me. Miss Granger, you may stay here for now, but you should come to my office once you get to the castle."

"Is the teacher's pet in trouble?" asked Malfoy eagerly, but Professor McGonagall silenced him with a single eyebrow.

"Nobody is in trouble yet, Mr Malfoy," she said crisply. Harry had started loading the twins back into their pushchair, but the professor stopped him. "The train corridors are rather too wide for that contraption," she said. "You may bring the young ones if you like, but leave the baby-carriage with the rest of the luggage." Neville surprised Harry by holding out his arms for one twin, and Dahlia surprised Harry again when she went to him fairly contentedly. Harry grabbed the bag of toddler-essentials from the pushchair and followed with Daisy; Nott brought up the rear. Professor McGonagall turned to the rest of the carriage, and held out a bar of chocolate.

"This is to be shared fairly among you," she said. "I am trusting Mr Zabini and Miss Granger to see to that. It will help with the symptoms." As Harry left, the two of them were already Scourgifying each others' hands.

"The worst affected will get Madam Flume's hot chocolate," Professor McGonagall told them, before striding off down the corridor. At every compartment, she stopped, looked inside, and consulted a list. Sometimes, a student would come out to join the group. Sometimes, she would tell someone they needn't sit alone when they had a friend or relative in a nearby compartment. Ginny Weasley was packed off to join Ron, with her own individual square of chocolate. Every now and again, they passed a red-coated Auror pacing up and down the corridors, Patronus active. Finally, they reached a compartment at the front of the train, where the trolley lady was waiting, along with Professor Flitwick and a very small, blue-blanket-covered figure lying on one of the seats.

"That's not someone who's been Kissed, is it?" asked a red-haired Hufflepuff girl, who looked like an adult, and walked with a cane and a slight limp.

"No, Miss Dinnett," said Professor Flitwick. "Nobody has been Kissed, for which we bless Magic. Miss Lovegood is simply resting." He began conjuring similar fluffy blankets for the rest of them, in what Harry noted seemed to be their House colours. One student had a black blanket; they must be an unsorted First Year. Daisy and Dahlia got similar treatment. "Budge up now," he said, shaking Lovegood's shoulder. "Let the others sit down." A head emerged from the blanket, and a small girl with straggly blonde hair and slightly protuberant eyes sat up, dutifully making space.

"What does that mean?" asked the first-year. "I mean in this context. Being kissed. Does this place disapprove of - erm - pre-marital affection? And if so, how come they've got babies?" She gestured at Harry and Neville. Neville coloured; Harry, who was actually starting to get used to this, just sighed.

"They're my cousins," he said. "I'm their guardian. It's a long story, and not a particularly nice one, Miss - er -"

"Jennings. Naomi Jennings." She waved awkwardly. "Erm. Hi."

"Mummy and Daddy hate magic," said Daisy blithely. "Mean. We live with Harry now."

"Harry did rituals," said Dahlia, equally matter-of-fact. "Nobody take us away from Harry now. Never ever."

"That's the gist of it," said Harry. He really hadn't wanted all this getting out. But so it went. "Harry Potter, Head of House Potter, Regent Gaunt, at your service. But I'd really rather be treated like a normal student while I'm at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, good luck with that one, Boy-Who-Lived," snorted a fifth-year Slytherin Harry recognised from Quidditch.

"Thanks, Pucey," he said. "I appreciate the good wishes. Er. I don't actually know what the 'kissed' thing means, either." Dinnett explained. Jennings looked as though she was going to be sick.

"There are some things about the magical world that are nice," said Lovegood, dreamily. "Even if you never get to see a Crumple-horned Snorcack, there are thestrals and dragons and unicorns. And Hogwarts does serve excellent pudding. Even if there is a bit of a Nargle infestation." An argument started over which of the creatures Lovegood had mentioned were actually real.

"Hogwarts was the first place that really felt like home to me," said Harry quietly. "And I've made some really good friends here. I'm sure you will too."

"Anybody'd think you were a Hufflepuff, Potter," sneered Nott, and five different voices told him there was nothing wrong with Hufflepuff. One of them was Madam Flume, handing out the hot chocolate. Harry sipped it, and felt warmth return. Madam Flume carefully conjured tiny flurries of snow above two smaller cups, and then transfigured baby-beaker lids for them, before passing them to Daisy and Dahlia.

"Thanks," said Harry, watching them vacuum it down. "I appreciate the extra trouble."

"Oh, it's no trouble," she said, smiling fondly. "Little darlings, how could anybody not want them?" Harry remembered what Mr Weasley had said about Dumbledore's reputation, and just nodded appreciatively. "Do you have children, ma'am?" he asked. Madam Flume told him all about her various children and grandchildren, while he just drank his hot chocolate, and watched the darkening Scottish countryside out of the window.