Chapter 13: A Changing Tune
The final days of August drifted away until the train ride to Hogwarts was at hand. The night before, a frazzled looking Hermione had finished re-knitting Harry's gloves and presented them to him just before bed. Despite the balmy weather, he was wearing them today in an attempt to alleviate some of the guilt he felt at how much time she had spent on them.
"You know England - there could be a frigid rainfall at any moment. Best to be prepared," he had excused when she questioned him about it. She rolled her eyes at his histrionics, but looked pleased despite herself at his wearing them.
A full complement of Order members had shown up for the trip to King's Cross, and Harry and Hermione both felt slightly embarrassed to arrive at the busy train station with six strangely-dressed adults, including one with a fake leg and eye. People gave them queer looks and made to avoid them as they walked past.
As they neared the platform gateway, Remus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and tugged him aside.
"Harry, you will be careful this year, won't you?" he asked gently.
"I always try," Harry hedged. "I- thank you for everything this summer, Professor. It was good to spend time with you."
Remus smiled at him softly. "Remus, Harry. And yes, it was. I hope you won't grow tired of my company in the years to come."
"You ought to get a move on, lad," Moody interrupted. He glanced around at the waiting passengers warily. "Who knows who might be watching…"
Harry was never particularly good with goodbyes, so he gripped the handle of his trunk awkwardly before offering a stilted, "See you, Remus," and turned to catch up with Hermione. She was waiting for him at the dividing barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 and looking around sadly.
"It's strange coming here without my parents. I wish I had asked them to meet me," she admitted before straightening up and gesturing towards the brick wall that served as the portal to Platform 9 ¾. "Are you ready to go?"
"Best do," Harry replied. He looked around once to check if any stray muggles were watching before he lowered his shoulder and barreled through the gateway. This wasn't really necessary - he went through without a problem - but he had never managed to make himself simply walk through the portal as if it were a doorway.
Hermione followed behind him at a much more sedate pace before they both pulled up short at the sight that greeted them.
Platform 9 ¾ had never been so packed. Witches and wizards crowded onto every available bit of floor, making the normally spacious platform appear small and cramped. Hushed and excited whispering buzzed around them like the noise of insects, and it seemed that the crowd turned as one to stare at them.
Harry glanced at Hermione uneasily. She shook her head before gesturing for him to move towards the train. He adjusted his grip on his things and began to push his way through the throng. All around him, he heard his name being murmured and strange things being said. People began to move out of his way, parting in front of him like the sea. Harry felt his temper rise and it took considerable effort for him to keep his head down and his eyes on the floor instead of shouting at everyone to ask what they were looking at.
He could feel Hermione trailing behind him as he made a beeline to the train. He was almost there when he heard an inexplicable sound: a small, four-piece brass band began to play a rousing, cheerful tune. He shifted and turned to see where this was coming from before noticing a small stage had been set up near the middle of the platform. It was swathed in the colours of the British Ministry of Magic and there was a poster on an easel with a picture of Fudge upon it. The words on it proudly proclaimed, "Working to protect the people!" in bold, red letters. Upon the stage, four witches were playing horned instruments and Harry could see several other people - Percy Weasley among them - wearing Ministry robes standing around officiously. Beneath the stage, there were six Aurors looking around the crowd suspiciously with their wands in their hands. Harry recognised one as Dawlish - an Auror he held particular dislike for.
And in the middle of it all was Fudge himself, beaming and waving at the crowd like a true politician. A sick feeling began to grow in Harry's chest and he glanced at the train waiting some twenty yards ahead as if he were contemplating making a run for it.
The crowd hushed as Fudge held his wand to his throat and cast Sonorus. The band gave a stirring flourish and then fell silent.
"Good witches and wizards, today is a wonderful day!" Fudge began and his magically-amplified voice boomed over the platform like a cannon-shot. "The start of term for our children at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is always a happy occasion. But sadly, this year you may be wondering whether your children are safe. Well, we're here to assure you that the Ministry is doing everything in our power to protect them! And to protect all of you, as well!
"This summer, we struck a great blow against You-Know-Who when we valiantly captured several of his key supporters in the Battle at the Ministry! You-Know-Who came to regret the audacity of attacking the very home of our government after he fled in fear with the arrival of our Ministry Aurors!
"And there was a very special young man at the fight that day, leading the way with his bravery and his desire to defend the Ministry - and to stand up for witches and wizards everywhere! He is here, right now! And today we would like to recognise his service to the Ministry with an honorary induction into the Dark Arts Defense League!"
This proclamation was met with a smattering of cheering and applause, and several flashbulbs began to go off in Harry's face, forever capturing his look of angry disbelief. He turned his head so his hair fell over his eyes, blocking their view, and felt a cold mixture of emotions stir inside him.
"Witches and wizards," Fudge continued, smiling jovially and gesturing with his hands for the crowd to quiet, "let's now offer our congratulations for the Boy-Who-Lived - and my personal friend - Harry Potter! Come on up here, Harry!"
The band cued up and began to play a sprightly march and Harry could feel every eye on the platform upon him. He felt the briefest brush of fingers upon his back and realised that Hermione was still behind him, letting him know she was there. He worked to calm himself and let out a breath through his nose before straightening his shoulders to continue pushing through the crowd towards the train.
He hefted his luggage through the door of the nearest train car and disappeared inside without a word. Behind him, he could hear the rising chatter of eager whispering - already, rumours were being spread and opinions were being formed. The band ended their song with a long, flat note, and Fudge's nervous politicking could be heard even through the thick windows of the train.
"So modest, he is! Doesn't like the spotlight, that one," he stuttered.
In every cabin he passed, Harry saw familiar faces staring at him as if he were someone they had never seen before. A blushing Ravenclaw nearly flattened herself against the side of the train in her effort to allow him room to pass.
Harry felt like he might be sick.
He hurled his trunk inside the first empty cabin he saw, then placed Hedwig's cage on the seat beside him, where she hooted at him dolefully, seeming to sense her master's mood. Harry slumped into the seat and pressed his temple against the cool glass of the window, closing his eyes.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione whispered as she entered the cabin behind him. "Oh, of course you aren't. That was positively awful!"
She pushed her trunk underneath her seat and then freed Crookshanks from his carrier before moving to sit across from Harry. She worried her lip before leaning forward to bring herself closer to him. "Don't pay them any mind. And the Minister! Goodness, the nerve of him! 'Personal friend'? I've never heard such insulting rubbish."
Harry cracked open his eyes to stare broodingly out the window, but did not respond. Hermione sighed and leaned back in her chair, smoothing her wool skirt with her hands. "Well, I'm very proud of you, Harry. I think you did the right thing - the best thing in the circumstances. I don't think most people are buying Fudge's story about what happened at the Ministry, anyway. The Prophet has even been reporting a fair truth on it, surprisingly."
She fell silent and gathered Crookshanks into her lap, stroking him gently. Students began to file by the cabin, looking for empty seats, and many of them paused to stare at Harry inside, only to bustle off when Hermione glared at them from her seat. After a short while, the train lurched forward and began its slow departure from the station, leaving the murmuring noise of the crowd behind.
Hermione hesitantly stood up and removed her Hogwarts robe from her trunk. She pulled it on over her uniform and attached her Prefect's badge to it. "I- I'm really sorry, Harry, but I need to go to the Prefect's cabin. I'm supposed to be patrolling the train. I suppose that's where Ron is, too," she sighed.
Harry nodded, but didn't turn his head from the window. Hermione paused uncertainly in the doorway. "Things will get better, Harry," she said gently. "It will die down like it always does."
She turned and closed the door behind her before leaving.
~: --------------------------- :~
Fifteen minutes into the train ride, Harry's brooding was interrupted by the entrance of Luna Lovegood.
"Hello there, Harry," she greeted in a wispy voice. "Do you mind if I sit in here? The people in my last cabin asked me to leave."
She said this in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, and there was no indication she was bothered by it. Despite his mood, Harry felt a familiar swoop of sadness on her behalf.
"Sure, Luna," he said after a moment, "but I'm probably not much good as company right now."
Luna moved to place her things on the luggage rack before sitting down on the seat Hermione had vacated earlier. Harry turned to glance at her. She was wearing earrings that appeared to be made out of peanut shells this time, instead of her familiar radishes. There was an obviously home-made patch sewn onto the breast of her school robe which advertised her father's paper, The Quibbler.
"Do you like my patch?" Luna inquired airily, noticing his look. "I made it myself. We have a lot more subscribers since your interview, Harry. We're doing a special issue on Flying Spoolkeens next month. They have six mouths."
"That's… a lot of mouths," Harry said after a moment's hesitation.
"I think so, too. But my father says they need them, because of there aren't many left and it gives them someone to talk to."
Harry did not know what to say to this. Still, in some strange way, it made sense. "Right."
Luna reached into the folds of her robe and produced two issues of the Quibbler. She placed one in her lap and handed him the other. "You can keep that one. I have lots."
"Thank you," Harry murmured. He glanced down at the cover to see a picture of a wizard wearing what appeared to be a shirt made entirely of bees.
"They don't sting him," Luna explained. "I think it's because the bees can sense that he respects them."
This, too, made an odd sort of sense. Luna leaned back in her seat and lifted her own copy right in front of her face to read. Harry glanced at her - he could see nothing of her head behind the open magazine. He felt a bit heartened that she had not mentioned anything about the spectacle on the train platform.
He glanced out the window again and watched as the scenery raced by. The long trip had only just started, so the view was still mostly urban, filled with the smaller, less modern buildings of the outskirts of London. He stared listlessly out the window as these began to thin, until there was nothing but green countryside as far as the eye could see. As they travelled north, the sky began to darken with temperamental weather, and soon fat raindrops began to splash against the roof of the train. Harry pushed open the window slightly to allow some of the cool, moist air inside.
Luna lowered her paper to glance outside. "I love rain," she said in a dreamy voice. "It sounds like parchment crackling."
"I like the way it smells," Harry found himself responding, equally vaguely.
She smiled and him and nodded. "Yes. That, too."
The compartment door slid open and they both looked up to see Ron and Hermione enter noisily. Ron tossed his trunk onto the rack with unnecessary force and sat down on the bench beside Luna, glancing at her and frowning. He looked as surly as Harry felt.
For her part, Hermione looked very displeased about something and made room for herself between Harry and Hedwig's cage. She gathered Crookshanks into her lap once more and seemed to make an effort to look everywhere but at Ron.
Harry glanced at them, but did not feel curious enough to ask what they were fighting about now. Instead he greeted Ron and shifted to give Hermione a bit more room.
To Harry's surprise, Ron did not return his greeting. Instead he muttered something under his breath and inched further away from Luna.
She didn't seem to mind. "Hello, Ronald," she said cheerily, drawing his name out so it sounded like three syllables instead of two.
There was no response and Harry frowned. He decided against questioning Ron's behaviour, though - he didn't really want to talk, either. Instead, he turned and continued to stare out the window.
Hermione did not follow his example. "Honestly, Ron! You're being absolutely senseless."
Ron looked incensed. "Senseless? Senseless? I see how it is!"
Harry crossed his arms over his chest and pretended he couldn't hear anything. Apparently, Ron and Hermione did not wish to wait until they actually arrived at Hogwarts before beginning their traditional bickering match.
"Yes, Ron - senseless! Harry had nothing to do with any of this. You know how much he hates it! It isn't his fault what Fudge is doing and it isn't his fault what the papers say," Hermione fumed.
"I know it isn't his fault - I never said it was! But he never corrects them!" Ron shouted.
"Sodding hell," Harry muttered. "What are you two on about now?"
"What was that on the train platform back there? Why haven't you said anything?" Ron asked harshly.
"What?" Harry barked.
"Don't be stupid, Ron!" Hermione shrieked.
Luna did not seem aware of the chaos going on around her and smiled at an article in her magazine.
"Oh, now I'm stupid, too?" Ron snapped before turning to Harry, clearly upset. "Why didn't you tell them, Harry? Why didn't you tell them that we were all there?"
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Harry growled.
"At the Ministry! Everyone is going on and on about you being there for that battle, but not a single one of us who went with you were even mentioned," Ron said morosely.
"That's what this is about?" Harry asked incredulously. "I haven't even read the papers, Ron. I have no clue what they're saying. Knowing the Prophet, it's probably complete rubbish, anyway. Why do you care?"
"Why do I care? We all did our part in capturing those Death Eaters. You have the bloody Minister for Magic trying to induct you into the Dark Arts Defense League, and the rest of us aren't even an afterthought."
"Are you joking?" Harry asked darkly. "None of us 'did our part'. We'd all be dead if the Order hadn't shown up."
"We were there," Ron said stubbornly.
"Yeah. And Sirius died because of it," Harry snarled.
This seemed to sober Ron momentarily, and he turned his head to stare out the glass of the compartment door in silence.
Harry rolled his eyes and turned his own head back to the window.
"Honestly," Hermione muttered again, slipping her fingers through Crookshanks fur and pursing her lips.
Luna flipped her magazine upside down and continued reading, oblivious.
~: --------------------------- :~
The rest of the trip continued in silence. When the scarlet train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, Ron grabbed his things and stomped from the cabin with all the dramatics a teenage boy was capable of. Behind him, the other students began to file out as they always had, but there was a change in the atmosphere compared to previous years. The chattering had a nervous edge to it and the cheerful greetings seemed slightly forced.
Their reaction to Harry was mixed. Some approached him and said generically supportive things, like, "Good show," or "Well done, Harry". Others stared at him with a mixture of awe and fear. Most bizarrely, there was even some giggling and whispering.
And then there was Draco Malfoy.
The blonde-haired Slytherin looked even more out of sorts this year than he had at the end of last term. His hair looked like it hadn't been washed in some time, and his skin had an unhealthy pallor even beyond his typical paleness. "Potter," he hissed in a deathly whisper as the sixth years gathered near the carriages. "You'll get what's coming to you!"
"Right," Harry said blandly. He felt much too tired by the events of the day to rise to the Slytherin's insults. "Spend all summer thinking that one up, did you?"
Draco's fists clenched and his eyes flashed in rage. "My father won't be held forever," he vowed menacingly. "And when he's free, he'll find the ones responsible… and you'll be first on his list."
"Held where? Apparently Azkaban is too good for the likes of him," Hermione cut in, before tugging on Harry's arm to keep him moving. "Come on, Harry."
"You'll join him on that list, mudblood! I swear it!" Draco called out after them and several students turned in shock at hearing this declaration.
Harry ripped his arm free from Hermione's grasp and stalked toward Draco in fury. His wand was in his hand in an instant and Draco's eyes widened in surprise and sudden nervousness.
"Harry, no!" Hermione shouted.
"What's goin' on 'ere?" a loud voice boomed, and the towering figure of Rubeus Hagrid pushed through the crowd that had gathered at the spectacle. He noticed Harry with his wand drawn glaring at Draco and seemed to understand the situation at once. "Righ', put yer wand away, Harry. There'll be none o' tha' here."
"Stay away from us, Malfoy," Harry warned before stowing his wand and pushing through the crowd to return to his things. He picked up Hedwig's cage and his trunk and placed them both in the luggage carriage with all the dignity he could muster.
He walked around the side of the carriage until he was out of sight from curious eyes, then leaned against it and released a shuddering breath just as Hagrid appeared before him. "Heard wha' he said," the half-giant remarked gently. "Nasty little thing, tha' boy. Still - don' yeh go gettin' into trouble on yer first day back, Harry."
"I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me lately," Harry murmured. With all the problems he already had, it gnawed at him that the relatively insignificant Draco Malfoy could still infuriate him so utterly.
"I 'ave a good idea what," Hagrid confided with sympathy in his voice. "Dumbledore already knows all about wha' Fudge tried at the platform. In a righ' state about it when he heard, I tell yeh."
Harry marveled at how quickly news travelled in the wizarding world. Likely, the scene he made at the platform was already being written about in preparation for tomorrow's papers. Harry didn't much care to think of that, so he pushed it from his mind and peered up at the gamekeeper. If Hagrid had trouble with the giants, his face didn't show it. He looked happy and healthy - free of the numerous gashes and bruises he sustained while caring for his half-brother last year. "How's Grawp?" Harry asked delicately.
Hagrid grinned. "He's doin' great, Harry! You'll see this year. I'll 'ave yeh come down ter visit as soon as I can. Maybe after our first lesson? I can't wait ter show yeh wha' creatures we'll be studyin' this year!"
Harry gave him a tempered smile. He wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Grawp again, but Hagrid's enthusiasm was infectious. "Hagrid, I wanted to tell you - thanks for the birthday present. I've got it right here." Harry patted his trouser pocket in demonstration.
"Thought yeh'd like it! Got a bit of a discount after I done someone a favour. A little extra protection fer yer wallet - although it's got protection enough already!" Hagrid said, beaming. "Listen - I have ter lead the first years ter the school. Little cobblers 're prob'ly already wanderin' around Hogsmeade like crups in a snow storm. I'll see yeh at the feast, Harry!"
Harry nodded in goodbye and loitered for a few minutes until the crowd began to thin as the students moved to find carriages to Hogwarts. He noticed Hermione was watching him from a little ways down the path, and he felt slightly embarrassed by his obvious reticence. He moved to catch up with her.
"Harry, you mustn't rise to his insults. He wants you to get into trouble, can't you see that?" she asked when he fell in step with her. When he didn't respond, she shook her head and said, "Come on, Neville's got a carriage."
She led him past rows of black, old-fashioned carriages, most already filled with students. Thestrals stood in front of each one, scratching at the ground with their hooves and shaking their great, reptilian heads. Harry watched them in interest. These beasts had carried him to the Ministry last year and he now felt a strange sort of kinship with them. He ran his fingers over the shoulder of one as they walked by.
Hermione noticed his fingers brushing what appeared to be empty air and her eyebrows rose. "Oh! I'd forgotten about the thestrals. Are- are they there now?"
"Yes," Harry replied, "one in front of every carriage."
Hermione reached out her hand tentatively towards the space Harry had just touched. Her hand was too far to the right and met empty air. Harry took hold of her wrist and gently moved her hand towards the beast's shoulder. She opened her mouth in surprise when she felt its solid bulk. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to not seeing them," she murmured.
Neville leaned out of the carriage ahead of them and waved cheerily. "Hey Harry!" he shouted. "Over here!"
Harry let go of Hermione's wrist and stepped away to wave absently back at his round-faced friend. As he did so, he noticed Ron standing in the path ahead, staring back at him. The redhead seemed uncertain for a moment before visibly steeling himself and continuing on towards another carriage.
"Don't worry about him," Hermione murmured, tugging on his sleeve. "He'll come around, Harry. He just wishes he wasn't always in your shadow."
"I didn't know it was going to be like this," Harry muttered. "And why is Fudge acting this way? I'm not his friend - he thinks I'm a crazy, attention-seeking kid."
"Fudge may be incompetent, but he's not stupid, Harry," Hermione pointed out. "Public support is behind you now - and he's under intense scrutiny because of his actions last year. People are angry that they were lied to. And they now know that all the horrible things that were written about you last year were untrue. Everything you said has been validated. Now that they know better, people probably admire that you wouldn't change your story last year, no matter how bad things got.
"Fudge realises he's holding onto his position by a thread. If he doesn't find some way to win back the support he eroded away with his campaign against you and Professor Dumbledore, he'll likely be voted out. Right now, the best way he can think to do that is to appear to be on the same side as you are."
"Well, good luck to him," Harry grumbled. "But he ought to look elsewhere - I have zero desire to join his ruddy Defense League."
Hermione gave him a meaningful look. "The only 'elsewhere' that could be of any help to him is Professor Dumbledore. I rather doubt Fudge can convince him to do a photo op, either."
When they walked up beside it, Neville opened the door to the black carriage and smiled at them. "Hi, Harry! Hi, Hermione. Have a good summer?"
Harry and Hermione climbed inside and sat down on the black, velvet bench opposite Neville, Luna, and Ginny. The carriage began to move nearly at once.
"It was lovely," Hermione replied as she settled herself. "There was some excitement early on, but it was mostly very quiet where we were."
Ginny met Harry's eyes briefly before darting them to the window, struggling to pretend she was very interested in the scenery outside. Harry held in a sigh at her bizarre behaviour.
"I was visited by two spirits," Luna said matter-of-factly. "How was your birthday, Harry?"
"Er - fine," Harry responded haltingly. "It was Neville's birthday, too, you know. His is the day before mine."
Neville looked at him in surprise. "How'd you know that, Harry? I don't think I ever told anyone when my birthday was."
Hermione, too, was giving him an odd look. Harry could almost see the gears in her mind starting to turn.
"Heard it somewhere," Harry replied vaguely. "How was it?"
"Well, my gran decided to let me have my own garden!" Neville said proudly. "With a greenhouse and everything! I'm going to try to grow some twisted moss over Christmas break. I've already sent away for the seeds."
"That sounds wonderful, Neville," Hermione encouraged.
"What's twisted moss?" Harry asked.
"Tortura Ruralis Enticus," Neville enunciated. "It's really amazing! It can grow without any light and even when it's freezing outside. They call it twisted moss because it grows in a spiral shape if you feed it butterscotch."
Harry did not comment on the strangeness of feeding a plant butterscotch. As long as twisted moss didn't spurt stinksap across their dorm room like Neville's last pet project, he was all for it.
"It's used in a lot of important potions," Hermione added.
"I'm not growing it for that - I won't be making potions, anymore," Neville said, and there was a definite sound of relief in his voice. "I didn't make the 'O' to stay in Professor Snape's lessons. But I did much better on my O.W.L.s than I thought I would! The D.A. helped so much, Harry. My gran was really pleased."
"I'm glad, Neville," Harry said softly.
"It's a relief that the exams are over with now. I was really worried about them," Neville confessed. He glanced over at Ginny who was still inexplicably avoiding looking at Harry. "But if you need any help revising for them, Ginny, I- I'll be happy to help."
She turned her head to look at him for a moment, before darting a glance at Harry and sighing. "Thanks, Neville. But I think I'll be all right."
Hermione shot Harry a significant look that he did not understand. He quirked an eyebrow at her before turning to stare out the window.
Hogwarts was looming above them - a dark silhouette against the evening sky. There was a blanket of stars already visible and they shone in concert with the hundreds upon hundreds of yellow-lit windows peeking out from the castle. In the distance he could see the Whomping Willow shaking dead leaves from its massive boughs as if preparing itself for guests.
Despite the familiarity of the sight, Harry felt a chill pass over him. Dumbledore's warning that Voldemort would be coming for him swam to the surface of his mind. Even Hogwarts did not feel safe to him, anymore. He wondered if anything ever would again.