Shadows of the Past ((Austice and Frogger))

[Frogger]

At the Burrow, the Weasleys were bustling about in usual boisterous fashion -pots were banging, whipping up breakfast as the family gathered at the table. Bacon was already sizzling in a pan, eggs cracked open and bubbling in another. It may be cluttered, but it has always been welcoming. It was warm, full of… life and magic. Hermione has always found it fascinating how different it is from her own home. Nobody in her family was magical at all, so to be surrounded with magic outside of Hogwarts is truly a wonder.

“Thank you for inviting me to stay for the week, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione spoke, before blowing on her tea to help it cool off. “Mum and Pop are off attending a lecture on the diode laser and thinner veneers. I believe it will also touch on the subject of laser dentistry, which will be minimally invasive and reduces the need for sutures. Knowing them, they will be gone for quite some time.” It is not in the least bit surprising they did not feel like being part of the moment when she receives her Hogwarts University letter.

“It is no problem at all, Hermione!” Mrs. Weasley gushed, shuffling about the kitchen to fetch silverware. “You know we love having you here. Arthur, call the boys down. Breakfast is almost ready.” Mrs. Weasley gently swatted at her husband’s shoulder with a dish towel, which earned her a cheeky grin that speaks volumes of their years spent together. Hermione smiled behind her cup, daring to take a sip now. “Mm, you always remember the way I like it,” she sighed, just as Mr. Weasley hollered for the boys to wake up and come on down. Hermione lifted a leg to cross it over the other. As per usual, Hermione chose to wear faded skinny jeans and a soft blue sweater to wade off the September chill. All her bushy, dark brown hair was gathered back in a messy bun.

 

[Frogger]

A menacing smile was quick to cross Uncle Vernon’s beefy face all over again.

“Start packing your things, boy - you’re eighteen now, and that means we don’t have to look after you anymore.”

Uncle Vernon rubbed his hands together in a way that can only be described as gleefully. Of course he’s made it no secret just how he despises Harry over the years. No one else could have lived with having their nephew sleep in the cupboard under the stairs… or robbing the boy of any and every little happiness. His piggy eyes shone bright as he looked down on the bloody brat his wife’s disgusting sister had to bring into the world. “Good riddance,” he growled, moving closer to loom over Harry. “I won’t have you putting my family in danger with your… your… magical nonsense!” These last few words were spat into Harry’s face.

“Excuse me if I am interrupting,” spoke a deep, drawling voice, one Harry will find very familiar, “but do you care that I deliver a letter?” In an instant Uncle Vernon’s face flushed a ruddy red as he whirled to face a man, tall and thin, with silver hair and beard. Both hands clenched into fists. “What are you doing in my bloody house?” he demanded, ignoring the question entirely.

Dumbledore dipped his head to show respect, not that the Muggle cared for such decorum. “I apologize, but it seems I have come at a bad time. I had only wished… to deliver a letter… to Mr. Potter,” he replied, stroking his long beard with a twinkle in his eye.

Tonight Dumbledore will be pleased to thwart the Dursleys’ attempt to kick Harry out into the Muggle world.

“Harry,” he spoke again, moving closer -and, subtly, coming to stand between him and the fuming Uncle Vernon. “I do hope you will forgive an old man… for holding onto this for as long as I have… but… Sirius told me not to give it to you until it is time you consider attending the University.” Dumbledore’s hand disappeared into the sleeve of his bluish-grey robes, just to reemerge with a black envelope.

Uncle Vernon stormed forward finally, as if he’d shaken off his surprise. “Give me that blasted letter!” he roared, eyes darting between Professor Dumbledore and Harry. “He will NOT be attending that school again!” A large hand whipped out to snatch the letter but, with a wave of Dumbledore’s hand, it froze -or rather, Vernon did. Anger melted into shock, and yet not a sound left the man. “There… Much better,” Dumbledore sighed.

“Here, for you.” Dumbledore placed the letter in Harry’s hand and, with that, stepped back to provide the illusion of privacy.

Harry-

Knowing those blasted Dursleys, they’re not going to let you attend Hogwarts University. I know I’ve just gotten to know you, but one thing I do know is that you’re just like your father; you’d want to go. I signed the form. Now, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. The choice is yours. Just know, I only want you to follow your dreams.

If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. I hope you know how proud I am to be your godfather, and I love you.

Sirius

Dumbledore had a serene smile, and once Harry had finished reading, moved forward to place a hand upon his shoulder. “Do you wish to attend Hogwarts University?” he asked next.

“Not everyone receives an invitation to attend; I know Miss Granger should be receiving a letter any minute now,” he drawled, “as will Mr. Weasley, though his will be under… special circumstances.”

 

[Frogger]

Dumbledore looked downright tickled pink in the light of dusk.

“I am very pleased to see you will be walking in your father’s footsteps. Hogwarts University offers many opportunities to young, inquiring minds.” Blue eyes scrutinized Harry from behind half-moon spectacles, their depths sparkling with delight. “It seems I arrived at the most… fortuitous time. Your Uncle Vernon did not appear too keen on the idea of you attending.”

Of course, it is no secret the Dursleys’ despise everything that has to do with magic -including their nephew. “I do apologize, but I was… in a hurry to come over and deliver the good news. I did not have time to make other arrangements.” A motorcycle roared to life, headlights slicing through the semi-dark draping over the sleepy neighborhood. Hagrid shifted the machine between his legs, lifting his goggles up off his eyes.

“You see, I meant to have a Portkey made, to transport us to The Burrow… but as you can see, Hagrid was more than happy to offer his services.” Dumbledore dug deep into his pockets, just to emerge moments later with a small candy. “Lemon drop? Or is this a bad time?” Hagrid shook his head, hair swaying with the motion.

“Climb aboard, Harry! I’ve been wanting to do this all summer!” Hagrid told Harry, patting the seat in front of him. “You’ll never darken the door of the Dursleys ever again, if I have a say about it!”

 

[Frogger]

Hagrid chuckled deep into his beard, shaking his head. ‘Course Harry has no idea that the Weasleys’ already know he’s comin’, but why not let the boy have his fun? “Have it your way,” he told the empty air, turning off the monster of a motorcycle. It was a nice flight over -no bad weather, blue skies all the way. It’s just so bloody dark out, ya can barely see two feet in front of ya. Good thing the Weasleys have their lights on.

“Stay behind me, then.” Hagrid lumbered on up to the front door, hitting it once, twice with the bottom of his fist. “Evenin’, Molly!” he roared with a big grin. “How ya doin’? Is Arthur in there?” Molly laughed and let the half-giant into her home, patting his back in a motherly gesture.

“Of course, of course. You know where to find him, love. Did you bring Harry? I thought he was supposed to have arrived already.”

“No, no. Harry wanted to tag along with Dumbledore on some… errand,” Hagrid rambled, obviously scrambling for a believable story. “I’m sure they’ll be along shortly.”

“Ah. Right, right. Harry’s safe with Dumbledore.” Molly chuckled and gestured for Hagrid to come in, to find himself a seat at the table. “I’ll put on another pot of tea. Once I have breakfast on the table, I bet Harry will come knockin’.” Hermione had looked up from her own cup, giving Hagrid a bright smile.

In a blur of motion, Hermione rushed forward to give him a hug. “Hagrid! How was your summer? How is Grawp?” Hagrid’s younger brother had taken a shine to Hermione… and although the feeling isn’t mutual, she was fond of the giant she met not too long ago.

“Aw, he’s fine, he’s fine.” Hagrid engulfed her into his embrace, pattin’ the top of her head. “How ‘bout you? Whatcha doin’ in these parts?” Hermione pulled away and brushed some hair behind an ear, smiling shyly. “My parents are attending a lecture for a week, and Mrs. Weasley was kind enough to let me stay here.”

Molly slipped in to playfully smack the girl on her shoulder. “My dear, I’ve told you once, I’ve told you twice: call me Molly. You’re a part of the family. Arthur!” Molly whirled around to face her husband, hands on her hips.

“Hm?”

“Why aren’t the boys down? Call ‘em again!”

Arthur shook out his newspaper, just to fold it moments later. “Boys!” he shouted. “Breakfast! Get your lazy bottoms out of bed!”

 

[Frogger]

Things changed in a whirl of motion. Hermione obviously hadn’t expected anybody to be standing behind her, not during breakfast, and having been taken by surprise… porridge ended up all over her face. Ron and Percy jerked back, out of the line of trajectory, hands raised with palms out. Arthur peered at them behind his newspaper, while Molly jumped up to help Hermione clean herself up.

“H-Harry!” Hermione sputtered, flushing bright red. “H-How long were you lurking there for?!” Ron, realizing too late what was going on, grinned ear to ear from his seat, though that didn’t stop him from digging into his eggs.

Molly waited until Harry pulled off his Invisibility Cloak, eyebrows raised in disapproval. “That wasn’t very nice,” she reprimanded, just to pull him in for a warm hug. Two seconds later, Molly pushed him back so she can look him over. “You’re thin. Haven’t they been feeding you at that house?”

“Mom, you know the answer already. You ask that every time he comes over,” Ron replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Hagrid settled back down into his seat, the thing groaning under his great weight. “Sorry, ‘Ermione. He wanted to surprise ya all. I couldn’t tell him no.”

“You prat!” Hermione had no words. “How childish could you be? You’re about to be admitted into Hogwarts University, the only wizarding establishment that offers higher education, and you decide to pull this sort of… sort of stunt?!” In a huff, Hermione sat back down, spine rigid.

“Don’t worry; she’ll forgive ya in the mornin’,” Ron told his best pal around a mouthful. “Don’t she always?”

 

[Frogger]

“Hmph.” So what if it was a joke? Hermione didn't find it funny -not in the least. He'd make her look like a complete idiot! A hint of pink still lingering along her cheeks, Hermione cleared her throat before focusing her steely gaze back on him.

“It is… good to see you.”

Ron shoveled in another bite of breakfast, rolling his eyes in exasperation behind her.

Everyone had just settled down to the table, forks clinking… when an abrupt knock on the door killed all conversation. Arthur and Molly exchanged a meaningful glance, one Hermione didn't miss. Hm? Is something going on? Molly left to answer the door, which… let's be honest here, left everyone shuffling uncomfortably in their seats. It was a relief when she returned, though no one seemed to expect Lupin.

“Professor,” Hermione greeted with a smile, although he hadn't taught at Hogwarts since third year. It may not be appropriate, but it feels strange to call him anything else.

Lupin flashed her a polite smile before going straight to Arthur, clapping a hand on his shoulder. He bent down to murmur in his ear. Arthur paled, looking up at his colleague for confirmation.

“Ah, M-Molly,” Arthur spoke up, obviously shaken. “L-Lupin and I need to have a moment. I will be right back.” Molly gave him a strained smile, already moving to slide another piece of toast on his plate. “Alright. Don't let your food go cold, now.”

“Of course, dear.” Arthur gestured for Lupin to join him in another room, so they can speak in private. “What evidence is there?” Arthur asked in a hushed whisper. “How do we know it's the Death Eaters?”

 

[Frogger]

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face. “If Dumbledore says that’s what’s best, I believe him. I trust him. I was just hoping Harry could have one year at Hogwarts without You-Know-Who breathing down his neck,” he shared with Lupin, who agreed with a quiet nod. It really is a shame. Harry just turned eighteen; he shouldn’t have the weight of the Wizarding world on his shoulders at such a young age.

“Find the Aurors, then. Harry needs to be kept safe. So does Ron. So does Hermione. Everyone needs the extra security,” he continued with a dramatic gesture of a hand.

Dumbledore wants to keep this a secret from Scimgeour? Well, no surprise there. He wants to pretend like everything is fine… when the fact is, it isn’t.

“Let me know if there’s another incident. I’ll let you know what I hear at the Ministry. Meanwhile, join us for breakfast.” Arthur moved in to clap a hand on his friend’s shoulder, guiding him back to the dining area. “We’d love to have ya.”

“O-Oh, well.” Lupin fumbled with his words, obviously not expecting the invitation. “I insist,” Molly chipped in, already pulling out a seat so he could sit down. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Sit. Eat, before you have to go. I’m sure everyone would love to have a word with you.”

How long has it been since Hermione’s last seen Lupin? It feels like too long. It doesn’t faze her that he’s a werewolf. Hermione glanced over at her two best friends -one of which is just starting to eat breakfast after rudely scaring her half to death.

“So. Harry,” Hermione spoke up finally. “Are you excited to be going back to Hogwarts?”

 

[Frogger]

“Aurors?” Hermione’s eyes whipped back to Lupin, shock written all over the young woman’s face. “Is the situation truly that dire? Did something happen?” Besides the usual? Voldemort has gone after Harry at least once every year they have gone to Hogwarts, in some way or another. First year? Professor Quirrel attempted to kill Harry in pursuit of the Philosopher’s Stone.

Second year, Harry faced off against a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets with a phoenix and a sword.

It isn’t anything new. Voldemort must be up to something, just like always.

Lupin fought to clear his throat. “I believe it best if you… enjoy your time at Hogwarts without worrying about what could and doesn’t happen. Please, Harry - it’s what Sirius would’ve wanted.” A strained smile pulled at the corner of his lips, but didn’t reach his eyes. Hermione huffed before digging back into her porridge, seeing as how they are now eating under time constraints. It’d be better if they just told them the truth, instead of keeping them in the dark.

“Better leave early, yes, but where are their owls?” Molly dipped her head to peer out the window, noticing color washing over the horizon. Orange, pink and purple painted the grass as the sun rose higher. “They can’t do their shopping if they don’t know what they need to buy.”

Hermione went to take a sip of her tea. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they arrive just before we leave. Ron’s will crash into the window, though.” A shrug rolled through her shoulders as Ron choked on his food. “How about you finish up? I’m sure you’d like to change,” Hermione told Harry, taking one last bite of her own breakfast.

"Oh, and Ron? Please don’t forget to brush your teeth. I’d like it if I don’t have to endure your morning breath.”

Arthur chuckled across the table, Molly smiling while she cut into her slice of ham. Hermione was quick to wash out her bowl and set it off to the side, so it may dry. That said and done, she was about to head upstairs to freshen up when she decided otherwise.

Feeling a little shy, Hermione hurried over to give Harry a hug, nice and tight. “I’m happy to see you.”

 

[Frogger]

“I'd be happy to help,” Hermione replied, a smile already spreading in front of his eyes. “You… still want to be an Auror, right? It's a good thing I did some research over the summer, after we'd spent so much time with the Order. I seriously doubt I'll be pursuing that particular career myself -the benefits package is just not worth endangering my life for- , but I think you'd excel at it!” Hermione grinned one last time at her best mate before hurrying upstairs, just to brush her hair and teeth.

Owls arrived just before departure, as to be expected. It was bustling inside The Burrow while everyone gathered their things, going over the lists one last time before lining up in front of the fireplace.

Diagon Alley… had changed. The colorful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that have been pasted over them. Most of the purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry pamphlets sent out over the summer, but others bore moving photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose.

A shudder shot down Hermione’s spine, her skin prickling. It looks as though several shops were boarded up, including the ice cream parlour they like to visit every now and then. Several shabby-looking stalls had sprung up along the street. Hermione held onto her bag a little tighter when her eyes met those of a seedy-looking little wizard, rattling armfuls of silver symbols on chains. Everyone -and everything- was somber.

“I think we’d better do Madam Malkin’s first, Hermione wants new dress robes and Ron’s showing much too much ankle in his school robes, and you must need new ones too, Harry, you’ve grown so much -come on, everyone-” Mrs. Weasley nervously consulted a list she’d jotted down just after breakfast.

“Molly, it doesn’t make sense for all of us to go to Madam Malkin’s,” said Mr. Weasley. “Why don’t those three go with Hagrid, and we can go to Flourish and Blotts and get everyone’s school books?” Hermione wasn’t too keen on the idea of splitting up, either, but if it meant finishing the shopping more quickly… well, it seems like the most logical choice.

“Don’ fret, they’ll be fine with me, Molly,” Hagrid told the anxious woman. Mrs. Weasley didn’t look entirely convinced, but allowed the separation. Hermione noticed that many of the people who passed had harried, anxious expressions, hurrying on by without stopping to talk. Nobody was shopping alone, either. Are things truly that dire-? Why won’t the adults tell them what’s going on, then?

Hagrid bent down to peer through the window of Madam Malkin’s. “Migh’be a bit of a squeeze in there with all o’ us,” he grumbled. “I’ll stand guard outside, all righ’?”

It was quiet inside and, at first glance, appeared to be empty… but no sooner had the door swung shut behind them then they heard a familiar voice.

“Oh no, here we go,” Hermione murmured.

 

[Frogger]

"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a tape measure and wand. "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop, either!" she added hastily, for a glance towards the door had shown her Harry and Ron both standing there, wands drawn and pointing at Malfoy. Malice unfurled in the air, thick and nearly palpable.

Hermione, who was standing just slightly behind them, whispered, "No, don't, honestly it's not worth it…" A gentle, albeit hesitant, hand reached out to touch low on Harry's back. Ron's too much a coward to follow through with the threat, but Harry… he's liable to rip apart Madam Malkin's shop just to defend her honor.

"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school," Malfoy sneered. Is he asking to get cursed? It sure looks like it on her end… not that she'll ask. Ever since first year, Harry and Malfoy sported a hatred towards each other -not that it isn't unwarranted. Malfoy has done and said plenty of things over the years since then to justify the animosity.

"Thats quite enough!" Madam Malkin said sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. "Madam -please-"

Mrs. Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack, as if nothing could possibly be wrong with this situation. Her face was arrogant and smooth, though she looked paler than the last time Hermione laid eyes on her. "Put those away," she told Harry and Ron coldly. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

Harry stormed forward and just beyond Hermione's reach. "Harry!" Hermione hissed, but of course he didn't react. He was past the point of no return. It was a little shocking to find he stood just as tall as Narcissa Malfoy, if not an inch or two taller.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed again, horrified. Is he really that angry at Malfoy? For what? Calling her a Mudblood? Draco's done it more times than she can count, so what's so different about this one time? Hermione surged past Ron to collide almost roughly into Harry, grabbing his arm and attempting to push it down by his side.

"Think… You mustn't… You'll be in such trouble…"

Madam Malkin has apparently decided to act as though nothing was happening, in the hope it wouldn't. She bent towards Malfoy, who was still glaring at Harry. "I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just-"

 

[Frogger]

To say it was tense was the understatement of the millennium. Madam Malkin rushed to take measurements and luckily she had robes that fit perfectly or else they had to linger longer. Hermione let out the breath she'd been holding onto when they stepped back out onto Diagon Alley.

“I wonder where Hagrid went,” Hermione spoke up, glancing up and down the street. Maybe he went to grab a bite to eat? Dark brown eyes flashed to Ron as he tried to figure out what to do next.

“Well, we could meet everyone at Flourish and Blotts,” Hermione suggested, “since they're bound to be done ordering our books.” It shouldn't take long to finish the rest of their shopping, either, so why not?

Hm? Did Harry say something? Hermione and Ron both looked in that direction, a bead of silence leaden with suspicion following soon after.

“No.” Hermione's cut to Harry's, the brown depths darker with disgust and horror. “It isn't.” Oh no. Hermione wasn’t very surprised when Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag. Of course he wants to investigate. Almost getting into trouble in Madam Malkin’s wasn’t enough excitement for one day. “I don’t know, Harry,” she told him, not very surprised when Ron ducked under the Cloak without any persuasion.

Maybe she can help them stay out of trouble… Hermione hesitated a second longer before ducking underneath with Harry and Ron. “Oh, sorry,” she told Harry, having accidentally bumped into him.

 

[Frogger]

“Tell anyone,” Malfoy spat, “and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend, he'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention.” Borgin's expression faltered for just a fraction of a moment, real fear glittering in his eyes before he lifted his chin, portraying disgust and and a sneer.

"Try again, Draco Malfoy. The Ministry would not hesitate to take me into protective custody, not if I have valuable information." The last words were a smooth, cunning threat -or was it more like a promise?

Draco's hand flew to his side, fingers gliding over the wand strapped there.

"Care to try that again?" Draco dropped his voice to a menacing growl, low enough it was difficult to hear his next words.

Hermione put a hand on Harry's arm, trying to move closer to hear better. It proved futile, however. "No, of course I wouldn't, you stupid little boy," Borgin replied, fury written all over his face. "Get out of my shop, before you get the both of us killed!" Malfoy hesitated, obviously torn on whether he should push the issue or not. Hermione exchanged a glance with Harry, her expression one of deep confusion. What could Malfoy want so badly that he'd be willing to hex an innocent man?

Next moment, the bell over the door tinkled loudly as Malfoy stalked out of the shop looking furious. He passed so close, the Cloak fluttered around their knees. Borgin remained frozen, his smile surprising smug.

“What was that about?” Ron whispered.

 

[Frogger]

Oh… no. No, no, no, no, no. Hermione wrung her hands together, in disbelief of the situation unfolding before her eyes. This is insanity! Did Harry really think that will do anything?! Hermione exchanged a glance with Ron, who looked just as helpless as she felt.

“Harry. Harry!” Hermione hissed, lurching forward and clutching his arm. Taking this opportunity, Hermione moved until she was between him and the furious shopkeeper. A hand was reaching out, ever so lightly touching his chest and applying the lightest pressure.

“Do you really want to do this?” she started with. “There are other ways of finding out. You don’t need to do this. I don’t want to see you expelled from Hogwarts before your first day!”

From the looks of it, Bolgin wouldn’t hesitate to hex Harry before calling the Ministry, so… there’s also that. Hermione gently took his hand.

“Come on, come on,” Hermione encouraged, waving for Ron to join them out the door. “I’m sorry. I hope you have a good day.” Bolgin didn’t return her words, instead glaring at their backs.

Once outside, Hermione finally released the breath she’d been holding.

“Could you have been any less discreet?!” Hermione scolded Harry. “He was liable to hex you on the spot! I swear!”

 

[Frogger]

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione replied on a sigh, knowing fully well she could’ve tried to talk Harry out of pursuing Malfoy. Has that ever done her any good, though? Past experience has proven otherwise.

The last week of the holidays were spent in usual disarray. Hermione had spent the time delving into her new textbooks… while Harry and Ron kept discussing the old topic of what Malfoy had been up to. Honestly, she was quite tired of hearing about it after a few days.

“Yes, I’ve already agreed it was fishy, Harry,” said Hermione a little impatiently. “But haven’t we agreed there could be a lot of explanations?”

Ron was working on straightening his broomstick’s bent tail twigs.

Must they continue discussing this? Harry should start studying. He only has a few days before the first semester starts.

“Harry, how about you come over here? Have you even cracked open one of your new textbooks?” Hermione asked, knowing the answer already.

“I know you didn’t anticipate returning to Hogwarts, but you really should prepare yourself.” Hermione patted the seat next to her. “Come, take a seat.”

 

[Frogger]

Hermione shot Ron a withering look. “It’s the holidays, but it’s never too early to crack open a textbook. I expect you won’t be doing that until the first day of classes.”

It’s quite refreshing to see Harry taking this so seriously. Hermione’s look melted into a pleased smile, and bent her head to join him in studying their new textbooks. It’s so fascinating! Is this what they’ll be learning? How wonderful! Hermione had just delved into her new Transfiguration textbook when Ginny came in, telling them it’s time for lunch.

“Alright,” Hermione replied, closing the book between her hands. “I’ll just go wash up. I’ll be there in a moment.” Harry and Ron ran off to see what Mrs. Weasley put together, leaving her to her own devices -at least, for a little while.

Don’t get her wrong, they’re great as best friends… but every so often, Hermione enjoys having a moment to herself. It can be exhausting to have only boys around, after all.

 

[Frogger]

“Let’s just get inside,” Hermione told her best friend, too. Harry doesn’t know what’s been happening over the summer, but things have been dire as of late. Muggles have been killed, with Unforgivable Curses… and so have witches and wizards.

Hermione was waved inside next, as was Ron and Mr. Weasley. Ginny joined them as well.

Everyone else had to take the other car. A spell was cast on the cars, so more people can fit inside, but no one wants to risk stretching the magic too far. Hermione settled next to the window, wringing her hands together. Of course everything is going to be just fine. Proper precautions were taken… it just doesn’t help her nerves any. A soft sigh left her lips while she looked at her best friends.

Dark clouds were rolling over the horizon, promising horrible weather at some point or another. Hopefully not today. It’d be awful if they had rain on the way to Hogwarts.

The trip was quick. It appears they want to ship them off to Hogwarts as quickly as possible… to keep them safe? It’s likely. Hermione hurried to help fetch trunks out of the car, piling them onto a gurney along with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.

King’s Cross Station was bustling, per usual.

“Hurry! Hurry!” Mrs. Weasley cast nervous glances about, as if expecting someone to jump out and hex them.

 

[Frogger]

Hermione plopped down into the seat next to Ron, a textbook cradled between her hands. Of course she'll be spending the ride to Hogwarts studying... well, unless something happens. “Any moment,” she agreed, delighted beyond words. Here they are, about to embark on the next part of their academic path. What new spells will they learn? What new potions will they learn to brew? How exciting!

The horn blared once, twice, before the train began rolling forward. Hermione let out the breath she'd been holding. “We're on our way now,” she chirped, eyes bright. “I can't wait!” Home is great and all… but her parents will never understand the allure of the magical world. Hermione has tried too many times to count… but it is what it is, ain't it?

“¹What do you expect will happen?” Hermione mused. “Are we going to have the same professors as before?” It is difficult to imagine learning from anyone else at Hogwarts except Professor McGonagall, or Professor Sprout, or… well, Hagrid.

 

[Frogger]

“An invitation?” Hermione peeked over his shoulder to take a look herself, but chose to keep quiet -for now. Slughorn sounds awfully familiar… but why? Did she read the name in a book…? Or in the paper? Hm. “For a bite of lunch? Well… I suppose there’s no harm in going…” Why did he invite her, too? It isn’t as though she’s anything particularly… special. Hermione moved to put away her textbooks, lips pursed in deep thought.

The corridors were packed with people on the lookout for the lunch trolley. If that wasn’t bad enough, Harry seems to have garnered some unwanted attention this year. Every now and then students would hurtle out of their compartments to get a better look at him. More than once, Hermione found herself in a rather… awkward position, either pressed against a wall or tangled with Harry.

When they finally reached Compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn’s only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of his welcome… Harry was the most warmly anticipated.

“Harry, m’boy!” Slughorn bellowed, jumping up… his huge belly taking up a great deal of space in the compartment. “Good to see you, good to see you!” Hermione cast her gaze about, feeling out of place.

 

[Frogger]

Introductions were made, though few of the students gave any sign of greeting or recognition. It isn’t entirely unexpected; Gryffindors and Slytherins loathe each other on principle, and there were quite a few crammed into the compartment. Somehow Ginny has earned an invitation, too, though it looks like she doesn’t know quite how she got there. “Well now, this is most pleasant,” Slughorn said cozily. “Here, take a napkin. I’ve packed my own lunch, the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on Liquorice Wands, and a poor old man’s digestive system isn’t quite up to such things…”

The conversation went on to gloating about how he taught this famous wizard, though it also turned to the subject of Harry’s… prophecy. It was very uncomfortable, especially how interested Slughorn was.

Hermione glanced out the window, realizing how much time had passed. A sigh of relief left her lips.

“Let’s meet up with Ron,” Hermione murmured in Harry’s ear, having placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be at Hogwarts soon.”

 

[Frogger]

Hermione hadn’t spoken once during the conversations, just simply because there wasn’t anything to say. It was nothing but a bunch of pompous gloating. Honestly, she’d rather hear Draco Malfoy prattle on.

Muggle clothes traded for black robes, Hermione and the others climbed into a carriage that will take them to Hogwarts. The wrought-iron gates creaked open, admitting them into the courtyard. Laughter bubbled up here and there as friends reunited from months of separation, several already hurrying inside.

“It feels good to be back,” she shared with Harry and Ron, smiling wide.

Hogwarts has felt more like a home than the one she was raised in, ever since they were first-years themselves. Mum and Dad have tried to grasp and understand the fact she is a witch, but… it is still a foreign concept, regardless. They can -and will- never be able to accept this part of her.

“Let’s go in! I am starving.” Professor Slughorn was kind enough to share his lunch… but Hermione never did accept his generosity.

Inside, the Entrance Hall was warmly lit with a thousand or so candles hovering high above their heads. Many students were sitting, chatting and catching up with friends. It looks like Dumbledore hasn’t made an appearance just yet. It won’t be long, though.