Chapter 4
All Aboard, Again!
Little Whinging, Surrey: a patchwork of cookie-cutter houses, postage stamp sized yards and zealous conformity. A loosely defined society whose members strived to be better than their neighbors without exhibiting any true individual spirit that would ostracize them as eccentrics. A greener, lusher lawn. Flowerbeds that overflowed with a riotous display. A newer, grander automobile. A lengthier holiday in a more exotic locale. Such was the currency by which the residents established their own worth among their fellows.
The perverse reasoning of this world view was so hardwired into the Muggle consciousness that very few ever questioned its inherit contradictions or strove to break out of its mold. Except for the young wizard at number four, Privet Drive, who was anxiously awaiting turning his back on the stifling confines of suburban Muggle respectability and setting off for his last year at school. Secretly dreading that final moment when he would break free of his relatives and set out with no one but himself to satisfy or blame if things didn’t live up to his expectations.
As if sensing his barely contained excitement, the first of September ushered in the gentle touch of fall. Despite the bright morning sunlight, the warmth just couldn’t penetrate a layer of hazy clouds that seemed to insulate the countryside below. A persistent cool breeze wafted through the last of the summer greenery.
Having sent his new seven-compartment trunk ahead together with Hedwig’s cage, Harry had only to wait for his escort to arrive at the door. Now that he was able to travel via Apparition, it would not be such a production to get to Kings Cross Station. Just a short jaunt to the playground on the next block, where a nice patch of woods could camouflage his sudden disappearance from any wayward eyes.
Hermione had insisted that he and Ron meet her for a nice leisurely breakfast at nine. They would be going to a Muggle restaurant just across the street from the train station that was a great favorite of her parents.
Ah, the enticement of a bit of freedom now that they had turned seventeen. The slightly exotic notion of breaking bread among the masses before leaving the Muggle world resolutely behind; it was just too delightful to contemplate. Surely, his escort from the Order would not have any objections.
Promptly at a quarter before the hour, the doorbell to number four rang as if on cue. Even though Harry had been expecting it, he still couldn’t help jumping in anticipation. He opened the door to find Tonks, of all people, dressed exclusively in black except for her lime green hair.
“Wotcher, Harry,” she greeted him, as if she had just seen him yesterday. “What do you think of my new togs, eh? I understand the ‘gothic’ look is the latest thing with Muggles.”
“Er, it’s ‘goth’,” Harry managed to choke out as he was enveloped in a huge bear hug. She sure was strong for a little slip of a witch, he thought.
He made sure to turn the lock, but hesitated before closing the door, knowing the final moment had arrived at last. Now that he was of age, the loophole that had allowed him an extra month’s sanctuary would be irrevocably broken. Somehow it was fitting that the Dursleys were not present to witness the bittersweet moment. They had left so early today that it would have been more accurate to simply say that they had left very, very late last night. Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat and drew the door soundlessly closed.
“I’ve missed ya, Harry,” confided Tonks, her voice filled with a cheeriness that seemed suddenly out of place. She caught him in a brief comforting squeeze, then added in her customary friendly tone, “Did you have a nice summer?”
“Heard you were on a secret mission,” he countered back to her infectious grin, then stopped as he got a really good look at her disguise. “I suppose you’re still undercover, right?”
“You betcha,” she replied. “Little birdy told me that you were wanting to rub elbows with the Muggles this morning and I didn’t want to stand out.”
She’d stand out all right, thought Harry. But since the goth look practically demanded outrageousness, she would probably fit right it. He shook his head at the circuitous logic, and hoped that the restaurant wasn’t one of those buttoned-down clubby places that were so famous in London. The kind that were still askance at having to admit “ gasp -- women.
But he needn’t have worried. The restaurant turned out to be a yuppie coffee enclave where the counter help had so many body piercings that it was a wonder they didn’t leak. In fact, he felt much more out of place than he had ever felt among Muggles.
“Oh, my mum would have a fit in this place,” Ron joked. “Can you just imagine…”
“What about Aunt Petunia?” added Harry merrily. “Uncle Vernon would probably turn such a deep shade of purple, it would practically be black!”
“Well, then he’d fit right in, wouldn’t he!” countered Ron.
“Oh, you two are incorrigible,” commented Hermione when she finally stopped laughing. “You just don’t get out enough.”
Meanwhile, Tonks was in the midst of an animated discussion with two of the guys at the counter. When she came back with steaming mugs of various hues, she exclaimed, “Blimey, I think those two were trying to chat me up!”
This dissolved the entire group, including Tonks, into gales of laughter. Through his tears of mirth, Harry thought he could discern that Tonks had added a few ear piercings that had not been present when she knocked on his door that morning.
As the magic hour of eleven drew near, they gathered up their belongings, stuffed the last of the biscotti into their pockets for the long train ride, and crossed the street. They were still laughing over the “goth fashion show” as Hermione had dubbed it when they passed seamlessly through the magical barrier that led to Platform 9 ¾. The gleaming red engine of the Hogwarts Express was already billowing clouds of steam in anticipation of its long journey north.
Tonks herded them onto the train, then waved off cheerily to patrol the aisles before departure. Harry stared after her, transfixed by the easy manner in which she wove herself among the new and returning students. Her outlandish attire seemed to melt away so that it was hard to tell her apart form the crowd.
Hermione grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him into the first empty compartment just as the train lurched into motion. Ron was already stretching his lean frame into the other bench as if for a morning nap, while above him, all of their trunks had already been stored neatly. Underneath the far bench, Hedwig hooted contentedly from her cage where it was strapped securely next to Crookshanks’ wicker hamper. Ron’s owl, Pigwidgeon, had been been temporarily entrusted to his sister, Ginny.
An orderly row of three ivory envelopes had been arranged on the windowsill. Hermione handed each of them the one that had been labeled with their name in florid purple ink.
“Tonks gave these to me this morning to pass out on the train,” explained Hermione.
“What about the one for Ginny?” Harry asked as he nodded towards the single envelope still perched on the windowsill.
“Oh, she’ll be by later, mate,” chimed in Ron. “Says she has something special to tell you.”
“Do tell, Ron,” urged Hermione in a conspiratorial tone. “Just a little hint?”
“No way,” refused Ron. “She made me promise or--”
“What’d she do, Ron?” Harry laughed. “Did she make you swear an Unbreakable Vow?”
“Trust me,” Ron conceded dryly, “she has her ways, that one does.”
Just then, they caught sight of Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood passing by their compartment. Neville and Luna returned their waves through the glass, but kept on walking towards the front of the train as if on an official errand. They had both changed into their Hogwarts robes even though the train had barely left the station.
“I hear Neville was named Head Boy,” Hermione whispered as if it would not be common knowledge soon enough. “He sure has changed a lot since I helped him locate his frog on our first trip. You do remember Trevor, don’t you?”
They all laughed at the memory. Harry couldn’t help but think how far this boy, who was exactly one day older than he, had come since that first fateful day. How many scrapes and tight spots he’d never have negotiated were it not for Neville coming through at just the right moment. As he had become entrusted with more responsibility, Neville had even begun to shed that hesitant manner that belied his inner strength.
“Do you think that Luna was named Head Girl?” inquired Ron.
“I’d think she was too young,” commented Hermione. “But I can pretty much guarantee that was a prefect’s badge that I saw pinned to her robes.”
The train pitched unexpectedly, sending the envelope bearing Ginny’s name fluttering to the floor. Picking it up, Hermione urged, “What are you waiting for?”
Harry opened his envelope to reveal a hand written invitation in the same purple ink, the handwriting festooned with elaborate flourishes.
Harry was about to comment that this didn’t sound much like the Tonks he knew, when he noticed a scribbled postscript: Be sure to keep mum as we didn’t bring enough food for the entire train!
Hermione excused herself from the compartment just as a breathless Ginny squeezed through the door.
“So sorry I’m late,” breathed Ginny. Then catching sight of the envelope, she cooed, “Oooh, for me…”
She swung herself with ease onto the seat right next to Harry. Quickly scanning the lines of the invitation, she turned to Harry and commented, “Sure sounds like a lot more fun than all those parties that blowhard Slughorn used to have!”
“Sshh, Ginny,” cautioned Ron in a whisper. “I’m pretty sure he’s still teaching at Hogwarts; might even be on the train.”
But Harry was not really paying attention as he couldn’t keep from staring into Ginny’s brown eyes. Their bodies were separated by only a matter of inches on the bench. Ron mumbled something about going to find Hermione and quietly closed the compartment door behind him.
Harry licked his lips, his throat suddenly dry. He wondered if he could get his voice to be heard over the hammering of his heart.
“Ron said you had something to tell us,” he uttered feebly.
Her eyes lit up immediately and she dug a crumbled letter from her pocket. “I’ve been made Quidditch captain!” she exclaimed, holding the letter out as confirmation.
“Why, that’s great!” Harry congratulated her in a generous tone.
“Then you’re not angry with me for taking over your spot?”
“Of course not,” he assured her. “It was one of the conditions of my return to Hogwarts this year.”
“I don’t suppose that I’m going to be able to convince you to try out, then?”
“Probably not, but I may be available for a consultation or two.” As her smile widened, he cautioned her, “But you will have to pick the team players by yourself “ that’s what the captain does. Besides, you did just fine without me when you won the Quidditch Cup last year…”
His mouth ran dry as he was immediately overcome by the memory of their first kiss. It had been at that very victory party.
Taking a deep breath, he forged ahead, “You don’t think that was a fluke, do you? Surely, McGonagall doesn’t.”
“Oh, it wasn’t McGonagall that signed the letter. Look.” She placed the paper right into his hand.
In a perfectly neat hand, the letter was signed: “Remus J. Lupin, Head of Gryffindor House.”
“You mean Lupin is back?” Harry cried incredulously.
“It would seem so. Perhaps we can get some more details from Tonks,” offered Ginny.
A giggling group of girls were walking by their compartment window. Looking in and seeing Ginny, they all began to wave excitedly.
“Gotta go, Harry,” she cried. “See you at lunch.”
With a quick squeeze of his hand, she was gone. In her wake, she left a faint flowery scent that Harry remembered all too well.
Before long, Ron and Hermione returned excitedly. The news that Professor Lupin was back at Hogwarts had caused quite a stir.
Hermione was clutching a roll of parchment excitedly in her hand. “You’ll never believe what I’ve got,” she gushed. “The owl practically assaulted me as I passed the observation platform. It’s a job offer from Fred and George!”
“Are you serious?” cried Ron.
Hermione nodded excitedly. “They want me to head up their new Division of Product Design and Testing.”
“So I gather you didn’t get beat up over the loss of the Evil Eye Detector, after all?” Harry inquired, turning to Ron.
Ron shook his head as if he still could not believe his luck. “Fred actually patted me on the shoulder and declared it an acceptable loss -- whatever that means.”
“Then why aren’t they offering you a job, Ron?” inquired Hermione in a pointed fashion. “You did copy the findings report into your own handwriting, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “I did, but they weren’t fooled; especially the part about using it as a magical baby monitor.”
“I suppose I should’ve realized that part would give me away,” Hermione admitted. “But it was such a good idea; Muggles have a similar product already.”
“Oh, they were practically ecstatic about it! Considering that all they had to do was change the packaging, the new version is probably already on the shelves. It’s just that, well,” Ron hesitated, “crawling babies are not exactly the sort of thing seventeen year old wizards have on their minds, you know.”
“Right,” conceded Hermione, laughing. “I see what you mean.”
“Are you going to accept their offer?” inquired Harry.
“I don’t see how I can,” explained Hermione. “They practically want me to start right away, what with their new premises in Hogsmeade. I’ll just have to ask Professor Lupin for his thoughts when I see him again,” she concluded.
It was definitely nice to have Lupin back, thought Harry. He wondered what he would make of the little towel wrapped bundle that was stashed in the secret pocket of his seven-compartment trunk.