Chapter Fifteen
Harry felt the familiar excitement of heading back to Hogwarts, the place he felt was really his home. The foursome searched the cars for an empty compartment. Ron was a bit ahead, and saw an empty one, but so did a second year coming from the opposite direction. They both rushed toward it and grappled with the door handle. Finally, Ron got a good grip on the handle, and when the second year didn’t give up, he shouted, “Oi! Listen here, Nose Nugget, I spent my summer fighting Death Eaters. Just think of what I could do to you!”
The second year’s eyes grew wide with intense terror. He caught sight of Harry behind him, and his eyes flicked up to his scar. He immediately began stammering, turned on his heels, and walked away as quickly and gracefully as he could.
“Ron! How dare you! He was just a kid, and you went and scared the pants off of him!” yelled Hermione.
“What? His pants looked on to me-“
“You know what I mean. We’re sixth years! We have to set an example! And we used to be prefects. People expect more out of us!”
Ron gently ushered her into the compartment and behind her back, mouthed to Harry, “Does she ever stop?”
Harry grinned. It was just like old times. He allowed Ginny ahead of him, and followed his friends into the tiny cubicle-type cabin. Hermione was still ranting. Ginny mumbled something about having to see Dean and took off. Ron shot a jealous scowl at his sister before turning back to Hermione.
“ . . . And it’s not as if you didn’t start giggling manically-“
“You’re right, Hermione. Okay?” Ron was trying to end the argument as quickly as possible. It was becoming all right for him to talk about what happened to him, in reference to fighting with Death Eaters, but it wasn’t yet a time when he was ready to take jokes about it. Hermione caught the warning glint in his eye and immediately bit her lip. She threw herself on him in a hug and quickly pulled back, obviously for Harry’s benefit. Ron, now with a vague smile, and Hermione, both turned toward Harry.
Harry burst out laughing. “Did you see that second year’s face!” and Ron laughed too.
Hermione glared at the two. “Don’t encourage him.”
“Come on Hermione. It was funny,” Harry said, and imitated the poor child’s expression.
The corners twitched on Hermione’s mouth, so she quickly changed the subject. “So, what was the Malfoy encounter all about?”
“Which one?”
“Draco, of course,” she said, perturbed. “I’ve never heard of him trying to do Muggle dueling before. Isn’t he supposed to hate all things Muggle?”
“That was odd,” said Ron.
“Not to mention the small fact that I did not actually kill his dad. Although, if I could do a good killing curse, he’d be good for target practice. It’s a pity I can’t do them yet, really.”
A dark look passed between the three. “Yet, mate?”
The conversation was moving to a place Harry wasn’t comfortable in. “We know you know the prophecy, Harry,” said Hermione matter-of-factly. “I’m not saying you have to tell us, but we’d like to hear when you’re ready. We would like to help.”
“I don’t want you to help,” he grumbled.
“Well, that’s too bad. The more, the better,” she said.
“We’re in this together-” added Ron.
“Whether you like it or not,” she finished stubbornly.
There was an awkward silence punctured by moody looks from Harry’s direction. Hermione sighed and attempted yet another change of subject. “Speaking of together, it seems there is trouble in paradise.”
“What do you mean?” asked Harry, knowing she couldn’t be talking about his un-coupled self.
“Ginny and Dean,” said Ron, and looked at Hermione to continue. He obviously enjoyed knowing what was going on, but still had no clue.
“Well, you know how she told off Malfoy on the platform?”
“Yeah, so?” he said defensively.
“Well, Dean saw the whole thing, and looked a bit jealous. Ginny saw him see her, and then she saw him turn and start flirting with Persephone Pyria.”
“Persephone Pyria?” he repeated dully. He never cared for girlish gossip.
“Ravenclaw. Fourth year.”
“Do you know everyone, then?” Ron asked incredulously.
“I pay attention. Have you seen her?”
Ron and Harry both shrugged. They only knew the people cooped up inside their private world. “Either way,” she continued, bothered by their attention deficit, “Ginny’s gone to clear up the argument, no doubt.”
Ron smiled. “I thought she left to avoid your yelling.”
“I wasn’t yelling!”
“Were,” said Ron and Harry together.
There was a knock at the compartment door. In walked Neville Longbottom. “Hello,” he said quietly.
“Hello Neville. How was your summer?” asked Hermione
“Pretty good, actually. I got a new wand, and Grams has changed a bit. All because of- well- before, you know.”
“We know. Let’s see it!” said Harry. He thought it was about time Neville got a wand of his own. He always had to use his dad’s in the past, and he suspected that was part of the reason his roommate did so badly in classes. Perhaps with a wand well-suited to him, they would see his true potential.
He handed it over, gladly. The wand was made of aromatic cedar wood. “The shop owner said it has an ancient, powerful wizard’s hair in it. I think he was just saying that though- I nearly blew the roof off of the place when I touched it.“
“I’ve never heard of a wizard’s hair being used before,” said Hermione as she inspected it. “Perhaps he was joking.”
“It was bloody time you got your own wand,” said Ron, and they all concurred.
“I’ll probably be loads better at charms, that’s for sure.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” laughed Harry.
“It must be nice not having prefect duties anymore,” Neville commented, leaning back in his seat.
Ron answered first. “You bet! I hated running after those little . . . people,” he finished lamely. A glare from Hermione prompted a more appropriate ending. He breathed a sigh of relief when she looked appeased.
“It is rather nice not having to run about all the time. I just hope the new prefects are up to the challenge. Especially in these times.”
“Speaking of, I heard about Diagon Alley.”
“Who hasn’t? For the record, I did no killing. Malfoy cornered me and Hermione in an alley, but we got help. I didn’t see him after that.”
“Malfoy escaped only a couple weeks after the Department of Mysteries.”
“He said that,” said Hermione. “I think he meant to bring Harry back to V-Voldemort, but he saw me, and . . .”
Ron’s face darkened. Hermione did her best to lighten the subject. “Didn’t he say we were a couple?” she laughed uncomfortably.
“Yeah, that was strange.”
Ron piped up. “Hermione is my girlfriend.”
“Way to be subtle, Ron,” laughed Harry.
Neville said, “I know. You two are all anyone’s talking about. Well, that, and Ginny and Dean, and Malfoy, of course.”
“Which?”
“The younger, of course. Don’t you two ever keep up?” snapped Hermione.
“How do they know about me and Hermione?” asked Ron, bringing them back to the subject.
“You were holding hands,” said Neville, as if he was talking to a blockhead.
“Oh yeah . . .”
“Glad to see your injuries all healed,” said Harry.
“I had to stay a while in St. Mungo’s-“
“Oh Neville! I’m so sorry!”
“No, it’s fine. I was allowed to visit my parents as much as a wanted. And Grams, well, she acts proud a lot now.”
“That’s great!”
“Yeah. Glad the Prophet told her, though. I couldn’t have told her everything myself. Listen, Harry? Are you still going to do the D.A.?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Well, think about it. I think I’ll do better this year.”
“You did great last year- when it counted,” he added poignantly.
Luna Lovegood, looking as flighty as ever, slid open the compartment door. She floated in, and began to lower herself onto the seat next to Harry. He had to budge over quickly to avoid being sat on.
“Er, hello Luna. How are you?” Harry still felt a bit sympathetic towards her because of their talk so many months ago.
“Well, thank you. Did I hear you say you were going to continue D.A.?”
“No, but I might.”
“I heard you were hurt a week ago,” she said vaguely, looking at no one in particular.
“Um, well, I got a couple of scratches-“
“No, I meant Hermione.”
Hermione looked taken aback at being addressed. She likely wasn’t used to people caring about her battle scars. Likely, because she’d never had any before. “Oh, I didn’t think anyone knew I was there. Yes, I was hurt.”
“Ron nursed you back to health I suppose,” she said, in her still-dreaming voice.
“Yeah, what are you getting at?” asked Ron, irritated.
“I wouldn’t have minded that,” she said, and Ron and Harry’s jaws dropped. Hermione’s face was turning red. Luna only sighed. “Well, I’ll just have to settle for Harry then.” Even more to Harry’s surprise, she kissed him on the cheek. “See you soon,” she said, and floated out of the compartment door.
“Oh, the nerve!” spat their bushy-haired friend as soon as Luna was out of hearing range.
“Oh, the hilarity!” laughed Ron. “Ha ha. She’ll settle for you!”
“Hey!” he said, mildly offended.
“I can’t believe she said that . . . that . . .” stammered Hermione.
“Look who’s jealous,” smirked Harry.
“I am not jealous.”
“O, yes you are. You can’t take the thought that I’m man candy.”
Hermione glared at him. “You want to be man candy, then? Hm? Because we might be able to work that out!” She smacked him upside the head.
“Ouch! No, Hermione. I want to be with you. I was just jokin’ there.”
When Harry commenced making gagging noises, Ron’s cough sounded a lot like ‘jealous’.
True to form, Hermione tried to change the subject yet again. “What’s taking Ginny so long?”
Harry thought aloud. “Either they’ve made up, and are snogging, or are having a row.”
Ron said, “I’m surprised she didn’t make prefect. I did . . .”
Hermione replied. “I’m sure Dumbledore noticed how much she takes after the twins.”
“I guess,” said Ron. “Chocolate frogs!” he shouted as the treat trolley passed by. “I actually have some money!” He ordered as many as he could. Hermione and Harry bought equally plentiful, but more varied loads.
For nearly an hour, the trio merely sat and gorged themselves, making goofy faces periodically. “Hermione! Look at all that candy. What would your parents say?”
“They’d keep their mouths shut, knowing I never get candy at home!”
“Whoo-hoo! Rebellious, Hermione!” laughed Harry.
“I like it!” grinned Ron.
A storm of fury in red hair appeared at the doorway to their compartment. “Who cares, Dean? If you can’t handle these things, then you’re better off alone until you grow up! Go back to Persephone or something. It’s over!”
She slid the compartment door open with an almighty whoosh! and slammed it just as hard. She plopped down next to Ron, shaking and breathing hard. When Ron tried to say something, she merely put her hand up. “No. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
An awkward silence followed this. “So, um, I hope you do D.A. again this year, Harry.”
“You’re going to do it?” said Ginny happily. “Ooo, what are we going to learn?”
Harry’s stomach dropped. “Er- I have no idea.”
“No worries, mate. We can decide the first week. I can’t,” he shoved a chocolate frog into his mouth, whole, chewed, and swallowed, “tell you how glad I am that there are no major exams this year.”
“That’s no reason to slack off, Ron,” admonished Hermione. “N.E.W.T.s are only next year!”
Ginny sighed. “I have O.W.L.s this year.”
“You’ll do fine, Ginny,” said Harry reassuringly. “As for me and Ron here, well, we hope Hermione take good notes,” he grinned at her.
“Not funny,” was all Hermione said. She pulled out a book and began reading.
“Oi! You can’t hide behind that book the whole trip!”
“I want to read ahead.”
“Then read over here! Ginny, will you switch places with her?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Just don’t get all disgusting in front of us. There’s no where else to sit.”
“Yes, Mum.”
Ginny sat in Hermione’s old seat, and flashed Harry a quick smile. He smiled back. Hermione settled her head on Ron’s lap, and continued reading, while he absentmindedly stroked her hair and stared out the window. After a moment, Ginny asked, “Harry, could I use you as a pillow?”
He felt a little queasy. “What?” he asked, just to stall. He saw the corners of Ron’s mouth rise, but he didn’t look. “Yeah, all right.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. Within minutes, her deep breathing indicated she was sleep. Ron’s eyes were closed, with his forehead on the window, and Hermione’s book was on her chest. She, too, was asleep. Well, I guess sleep does sound good, he thought, and rested his head in the corner behind him.