Following Sirius' death Harry had barely spoken to anyone, and certainly not about Sirius. His months at the Dursley's were in a way reassuring. He wasn't forced to face daily reminders of his godfather there were enough of those in his head as it was. The Dursley's also didn't badger him constantly to talk or share his feelings so he was able to work through his grief in his own way. And he did grieve, and remember, and think. Not only did Harry have Sirius' death to deal with he also couldn't forget what Dumbledore had told him, the prophecy that had called for either his life or Voldemort's. Harry had come up with various plans during these months; ranging from leaving England and never looking back, to isolating himself from everyone and everything he'd ever known or cared about until it was time to fight. Logically he knew neither of these would work but it was hard to convince himself of that.
Harry had kept up minimal contact with the wizarding world while at the Dursley's. He wrote his requisite notes to the Order every three days and would occasionally reply to the worried letters sent by his best friends. He knew he was hurting them, especially Hermione, by not writing more, but right then he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was numb and anything he wrote she would be able to see right through. Writing nothing was the safer choice. But as the days crept by, getting closer to the start of his sixth year, new thoughts and ideas began to form. He knew that Sirius' death was not for nothing, he knew it had taught him a most powerful lesson. He couldn't take anything for granted anymore, especially time. So this is where the new Harry began, losing the scared, skinny, sensitive boy in the shadow of the brave young man who confidently arrived at King's Cross station ready to begin his sixth year.
Harry had spent his entire break from school at his aunt and uncle's. He never asked to leave and it was never brought up to him. He had an idea Lupin was responsible for this; knowing that it would be too hard on Harry to return to Order headquarters so soon after Sirius had died. Harry had arrived early at the station due to his uncle's impatience of getting rid of him. Harry knew he had an Order guard with him, but made no attempt to acknowledge them. One of the benefits of Vernon's intolerance of Harry was that he was able to secure a room at the end of the car. In the back of the train, there would be less chance of people stopping by to chat, gawk, or cause general mayhem if there was a Slytherin involved. Harry had been in his seat for about a half hour thinking about what this year could bring, when Hedwig gave a soft hoot and the door slowly slid open. A quiet voice turned down the hallway and said 'He's here'.
Harry looked up just as Ron was joining Hermione in the doorway. Neither of them said anything as they drug in Pig's cage and Crookshanks' carrier. Hermione sat on the bench next to Harry and Ron sat across from him. Harry turned to look at Ron and was surprised at what he saw. If it was possible, Ron seemed to have gotten taller, but there was something else, almost an air of maturity. Ron looked him straight back in the eye, and there was an unspoken bond 'I've got your back, mate.' The Ron of last summer would have been insensitive and obnoxious and would have already spoken in anger about not coming to headquarters or not writing, but something had happened to him, Harry was sure and he felt a flash of guilt at not having kept in better touch with him. Ron nodded and Harry was sure they would talk more about the summer soon, but that other things needed to be attended to first.
The other thing was sitting next to him. Harry was secretly glad Hermione had chosen to sit next to him and not where he would have to make direct eye contact with her. Disappointing Hermione was one of his biggest fears. Taking a deep breath, he turned towards her and cast a quick glance at her face. Hermione had always been more intuitive than most people gave her credit for. She had watched the exchange between Harry and Ron carefully and had quickly noticed some important changes. The new Ron she had already seen, she knew what had brought that change and had seen it come about. But the new Harry had come as quite a shock to her. She would have never thought it possible to look both defeated and confident at the same time. And then she knew why. Faster than anyone could imagine, Hermione Granger's brain processed what she knew and what she was seeing and came to the correct and most frightening conclusion. Harry would have to fight Voldemort in the end, or die trying. Harry's gaze finally made it to her eyes and what he saw there stopped him cold. One tear had already made its way down her face with a pool soon to follow. 'She knows' he thought. How, he couldn't imagine, but the look of complete terror and anguish on her face was enough.
Hermione broke the silence with a shaky sob, "Oh No Harry. It can't be! It just can't! There has to be another way! We'll find it…I'll research… maybe a new spell, or charm. Or maybe a new curse!!" At this point Hermione shot straight up and started searching frantically through her bag. "I must have a quill, I just bought three new ones last week!" She sniffed loudly and upended her bag all over the floor. Before she could drop to her knees to comb through her belongings Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and made her turn to look at him.
"Hermione!" he said forcefully, getting her attention.
She stopped her erratic movements and looked at him, tears coming silently now, her breath hitching as she tried to calm herself.
"He will not win," Harry said slowly and pointedly "I do not intend to lose. This will all end. I'll make sure of it." At this, Hermione's face crumpled again.
"But Harry, why you? Why is it always you? You've had enough," she said and then dropped her head forward to rest it on his chest. Harry had no answer for her and let go of her arms so that he could pull the rest of her towards him in a hug. Hermione continued to weep, silently now and then reached out a hand towards Ron who grasped it strongly and gave her a grim smile as she peeked at him around Harry's shoulder.
The trio stayed this way until Hermione's cries turned to sniffles. Finally she slowly lifted her head and let go of Ron's hand. She looked up at Harry and smiled bravely before dropping down amid the contents of her bag to search for a tissue.
Once they were all seated again, Harry said, "We need to talk, but not here. Tonight in the common room after everyone else has gone to bed." The other two nodded and they continued their trip on to Hogwarts in relative silence. Occasionally, Hermione would reach over suddenly and grab Harry's hand, giving it a squeeze and then going back to petting Crookshanks or exchange a sad look with Ron, but they talked little and no one came to their car to disturb them.
Before too long, Ron and Hermione had to don their robes and pin on their prefect badges. Turning to Harry, Hermione began to apologize, but Harry cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Go, it's ok. I know you have to go," he said with an honesty that surprised her. "I'll take care of these guys for you," he said with a nod to Pig and Crookshanks, "and I'll see you at the feast."
"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione started. "I'm sure one of us could stay with you, they'd understand."
"Go," he said again, more firmly this time. Harry then turned to Ron. "Make her go please," he said lightly.
Ron smiled understandingly. "Come on Hermione, you heard the man," and tugged on her sleeve as he stepped into the corridor.
Hermione gave Harry one more questioning look and then slowly followed Ron out the door. Harry turned back into the compartment to sit down when he was suddenly enveloped from behind by Hermione. She squeezed him hard and then whispered in his ear, "It'll be ok" before releasing him and vanishing.
Harry stood still for a while, hearing Hermione's words over and over in his head before shaking himself out of his thoughts and starting to gather up all their belongings.
The Hogwarts Express pulled into the station at Hogsmeade and Harry waited patiently until he could barely hear any noise in the corridor. His goal was to at least make it to the feast without being hounded. Finally, he opened the door to the hallway and struggled out of the train, climbing aboard one of the last thestral pulled coaches headed for Hogwarts.
As soon as the coach arrived at the massive entrance doors to the castle, Harry opened the owls' cages and let them go. Once inside he added the cages and Crookshanks' carrier to the pile of assorted luggage, trunks, and familiars crates and started to head towards the Great Hall, but he was stopped short by an angry hiss.
"Sorry boy," Harry said and rushed back to let Crookshanks out. The cat gave Harry a very Hermione-like glare, but did brush up against his legs before trotting down the corridor towards the Gryffindor dormitories.
Right before entering the Great Hall, Harry realized his mistake. However clever he thought he was being by taking cover in the back of the train or waiting to be one of the last to catch a carriage, he obviously hadn't thought his plan all the way through, for this also meant he was going to be the last to enter for the feast. In fact he had spent so much time with the animals that McGonagall had already taken the new first years in to be sorted. Harry had no choice but to open the expansive wooden doors and step into the Great Hall.
As though they had been directed to, every head in the room turned towards Harry as one. McGonagall stopped, with her hand holding the sorting hat, poised above a nervous looking boy's head. The silence was overwhelming; even the Slytherins hadn't made a noise. Harry glanced at the Gryffindor table and saw Hermione biting her lip in worry. Everyone jumped as Professor Dumbledore broke the silence.
"Good to see you, Harry. Please join your housemates," he said gently with a wave towards the Gryffindor table. The almost-always-present twinkle in his eyes was gone however and he looked much older than he had the last time Harry had seen him. Harry nodded at the Headmaster and willed his feet to move forward until he could sit on the bench in the spot Hermione and Ron had saved for him. It was as if Harry sitting had flipped a switch and as quickly as the silence came, there was a roar of noise as everyone began talking at once. McGonagall cleared her throat loudly and with one of her patented glares, the Great Hall was quiet again.
The sorting progressed as normal, and Dumbledore's speech was typical if not a bit more dire than usual. Harry barely let the words register. He had spent the summer slowly realizing and accepting what fate expected of him, but he had not thought about how he was supposed to also be a regular student at Hogwarts at the same time. Classes, and quidditch and trips to Hogsmeade were the furthest things from his mind right now, but somehow he was going to have to pretend that they still mattered.