It was a dim and dreary morning that signaled the end of the holidays and the return to Hogwarts. Harry blinked behind his glasses through the haze of sleep and fog that clouded his vision as he tugged his trunk along behind him.
So far, the New Year had not been a horrid, it was not filled with despair; there were no terrors to report. It was far from wretched “ but it was though they lived their days with bated breath, in a fear of what was going to come. Moments of joy were short-lived, not because they were interrupted with news of grievance or bloodshed, but because nobody seemed to have the energy to remain in high spirits. Cheer was simply another chore that not many felt up to taking on.
Somewhere behind him Harry heard the dragging footsteps of Ron and the lazy click of Siobhan’s heels. Hermione was leading the pack, but even she was lacking her usual ‘back to school’ enthusiasm. Harry thought that, perhaps after seven years, she’d finally been worn out.
And to his side, was Katie, walking with her hand in his and gripping their last precious minutes as they entered King’s Cross station. One by one, everyone in the group slid inconspicuously through the brick wall to Platform 9 ¾, which they found to be the most desolate it had been in all their years boarding the scarlet Hogwarts Express.
Most students had boarded the train rather than dawdle around on the platform; those who still remained were hugging their parents farewell and double checking their trunks in the anxiety that they’d left something behind. It was quiet, colourless...
“It’s depressing,” Ron sighed, glancing around at their fog coated surroundings.
“This being the last time we travel to school?” Hermione asked, biting her lip. “Or the fact that everything seems…”
She trailed off, at loss for a word to describe the tense and dreary atmosphere.
“…grey,” Siobhan said, with a shudder.
Harry frowned but said nothing. Everything felt as though it was deteriorating to a dark end. His life felt like an abundance of pointless motions he had to go through, each dragging more energy from his being until he was left with little desire to get out of bed each morning, or at all. This morning represented everything he felt within him. A grey fog blanketing everything, all the senses, obscuring perception. Harry wanted to let the fog take him, he wanted to sleep. He wanted to stop right that moment and refuse to keep moving.
But instead, he turned to Katie and laid a kiss on her cheek, whispering a soft ‘see you soon,’ in her ear. Her hand let go of his reluctantly, and he turned to board the red train that awaited them. The other three followed in his lead.
When they arrived at the school, Harry could see improvements were being made to the practical security of the castle; small things that might go unnoticed to the unwary senses of the passing student, but significant changes. Suits of armor were wielding sharpened weapons. The swords were held with the hilt facing up, as though to be easily grasped by a wanting witch or wizard. More doors had intricate Muggle style locks, and hidden corridors and passageways “ well known to students and professors “ were dressed up to remain less conspicuous to someone not familiar with the layout of the building.
Every professor walked with clear destination, each on their own mission, not a moment of leisure time. McGonagall stopped in the hallway for a quick but serious exchange with Alex, before both headed in the direction of Dumbledore’s office.
Classes were taken seriously by everyone. They arrived, they sat down, and they did the work, wasting no time. Snape was the only professor who kept control of them until the end of the hour “ all the other teachers either left them to their own devices or sent them about their business once the lesson and class work was complete.
“They’re preparing…” Harry said as they sat down to dinner the first evening back, fresh from procuring a thick, red cordial of fire-flowers during their Herbology lesson.
“For what?” Hermione asked, looking quizzically at Professor Flitwick who was panting from doing sprints up and down the Quidditch pitch with a few other staff members.
Until that point, nobody had asked Harry what had been discussed at the Order meetings, and there hadn’t been an opportunity to bring the specifics up. They all knew the war had reached a boiling point, that everyone was wary of an attack, all living in the shadow of the eve of an unknown battle. But not even Ron or Hermione had any idea about the possibility of a fight without magic of any sort.
“The Order thinks the Death Eaters might have an AMP,” Harry started to explain, and Hermione’s eyes automatically widened in disbelief. “I take it you’ve heard of them?”
“Yes “ oh, but they can’t have produced one, Harry… they’re pure myth…” She didn’t seem to be telling him this, but attempting to console her own fears.
“What’s an AMP?” Ron asked, looking between the two of them with heightened curiosity.
“It’s… a device that neutralises all magical activity,” Hermione told him. “And anything it doesn’t defuse has… dangerous reactions.”
“So…” Ron said, his eyes darting in a few different directions as he brought the pieces together, “…we have to fight without magic, then? We have to fight like Muggles.”
“Basically, yeah,” Harry said. “And I bet they’re going to start preparing us, too…”
“Or they already have,” Ron said thoughtfully. “I was wondering why McGonagall insisted on having us Transfigure those books into vicious birds… I guess to put us on the defensive.”
“Those were quail, Ron,” Hermione said with a small snort.
“Every one of those things attacked me…” Ron grumbled, his ears turning a slight pink.
Hermione chuckled at him and Harry grinned “ not just at Ron’s misfortune, but at the pair of them, talking comfortably, smiling. It was refreshing, and it was familiar.
But it was short-lived. Harry felt a small twist in his stomach as Blaise Zabini approached the three of them at the Gryffindor Table and sat down next to Hermione, giving her a small smile that touched nothing but his lips.
“Blaise, hello,” Hermione said warmly, getting a bit flustered as she cleared her throat and turned away slightly from Ron and Harry.
“They were fine,” Blaise answered in a dusky voice, as though trying to remain both inaudible and impartial to emotion while Hermione’s friends were around. Dropping his voice lower again he leaned towards her, “Would you like to go for a walk?”
“Yes, that would be lovely,” she answered happily. Turning to Ron and Harry she gave an awkward smile. “I’ll… talk to you later, then?”
Harry nodded with as supportive a facial expression as he could manage and Ron made a choked sound of assent, before Hermione walked out through the doors of the Great Hall, the Slytherin at her side.
“So “ are they “ do you know if “ ” Ron attempted to ask.
“I don’t know “ what about you and Siobhan?” Harry asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“What about me?”
The sound of Siobhan’s voice was laced with her trademark smirk and accompanied by the motion of her taking a seat next to Harry, looking at him expectantly, knowing she had caught him in a less than friendly mood.
“Nothing,” Ron said, not glowering at his best friend as might have been expected, but sounding tired. Harry looked down at his food and prodded it with is fork; Ron turned back to Siobhan. “Do you “ would you like to go for a walk?”
Harry’s head shot up at this, and he saw a self-conscious blush creep across Ron’s freckled features. Siobhan shrugged and with a half grin answered, ‘Alright, then.’
They left the hall, just as Hermione and Blaise had, and Harry remained seated, alone. A small surge of frustration rushed through his body and he stabbed his fork into the meat with violent force, glaring at his dinner as though it had taken something from him.
In the corner of his eye, he spotted Luna watching him with curiosity, and when he turned to face her she gave him a sympathetic smile. He returned it with a fierce look, before standing up and defiantly leaving the table for his dormitory.
It was still very early, but he wanted to be in his bed, asleep, before any of his friends got back from their ‘walks’.
The night was silent and Harry slept soundly. His dreams were cloudy and obscured, and when he woke up in the darkness with a pounding headache, he could not remember a single detail from the wanderings of his unconscious.
The sun had not yet risen, but some sounds of morning had already begun to stir outside. Harry sat up with a yawn and decided to pull himself out of bed early “ he had slept enough already.
Ron was passed out on his four poster bed, his mouth hanging open, his various limbs tangled in his sheets, both of his hands and both of his feet sticking off the mattress. Harry gave a small snort of laughter at the sight, and consciously noted he was no longer feeling cold over the events of the previous evening.
Though, he thought, it would be better if there were no bitter emotions to notice the absence of to begin with.
Once again feeling a bit disheartened Harry heaved a sigh and looked at his dresser drawer, where he knew his journal lay waiting. He considered writing to Katie only for a moment before deciding he wasn’t up for it, and didn’t want to bother her first thing in the morning anyway. It wasn’t as if he had anything of much importance to say…
Peering out the window onto the grounds, he saw the massive shadowy figure that was Hagrid walking across the grass with Fang. Harry had not yet had the chance to see Hagrid and thank him for Clarimonde, and thought it would be a good idea to visit his Granian where she was currently staying on the grounds while he was at it.
And so, pulling on his trainers, Harry donned a cloak for warmth and left his dormitory to travel downwards through the castle and out the Entrance Hall onto the grounds that were just meeting dawn.
He glanced around quickly and even in the dim morning light it was easy to glimpse Hagrid still trudging through the dewy grass. Having spotted him, Harry took off in a sprint after the half-giant and, catching up to him, offered an enthusiastic ‘Morning, Hagrid!’
“Blimey, Harry!” Hagrid said with a bit of a jump that caused the ground just beneath to give a small quake and shaking slightly the younger, smaller wizard’s balance. “Gev’ me a bit o’ a scare, there… Wasn’ really expectin’ anyone teh be out on th’ grounds this early…”
“Nice to see you, too,” Harry replied with a grin.
“Ah, sorry “ yeah, it’s good teh see yeh as well, Harry,” Hagrid said with one of his beaming smiles that reached his small dark eyes.
“How is Clarimonde?” Harry asked.
“Ah, she’s great “ fine creature, in’t she?”
“Yes, beautiful,” Harry said, amazed to be in agreement with Hagrid on the subject of ‘fine creatures.’ “Thank you, I love her… though, I think Hedwig might be a bit envious.”
“Ah, it was nothin’,” Hagrid said, and in the light of the rising sun, Harry could see his cheeks turning ruby. “An’ I do get to look after her an’ all, while yer at Hogwarts, so I did get somethin’ out o’it, din’t I?”
“I s’pose,” said Harry, still very grateful to his friend for the gift.
“D’yeh want teh giv’ her a visit?” Hagrid asked.
“Yeah, I was hoping “ ”
Harry cut off when he saw a frazzled McGonagall running up to the pair of them, still dressed in a nightgown, her black hair flying out of a messy bun.
“Hagrid “ the staff is gathering… there’s been some dreadful news,” she said breathlessly. She looked a bit overwhelmed, and she blinked a few times when her eyes rested on Harry. “Mr Potter, you should get back to your dormitory.”
“What’s happened?” Harry demanded, more worry in his voice than impatience, worried that there had been an attack somehow related to the Anti-Magical Pulse Wave. He thought of St Mungo’s first, and of Katie. He didn’t know how many of their plans for emptying the wards of the hospital had gotten underway. “What’s wrong?”
McGonagall didn’t seem to attempt to think of a reason not to divulge the news to him, but told him quickly, her voice shaking.
“Early this morning there was an attempt made on the life of Minister Bones,” she said without hesitation, quickly adding, “She’s alive, not seriously harmed. But “ she had high security; one of her Ministry guards was killed. And, they could try again…”
She trailed off and stood up straight and tried to ease her nerves.
“Hagrid, we must go back to the castle, Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to all of us,” she said steadily.
“Alrigh’ Professor McGonagall,” Harry said in a gruff and serious tone, making his way back towards the castle.
“And Mr Potter,” McGonagall said, looking at him.”
“I’ll go back to Gryffindor Tower,” he said with a nod of understanding, and then he turned and followed in Hagrid’s wake.
As he made his way through the silent stone corridors, Harry heaved a sigh. The morning served as a cold, hard reminder that the world had not stopped turning, and they were all still at war. As stagnant and icy as the waters of their daily life might seem, the other side could drop a stone at any moment, disrupting the closest thing to calm they could grab hold of, sending ripples of terror through them all.
And Harry was growing weary.