Tomorrow at the Latest

"Mph."

"Get up dear. It's time for breakfast."

Mrs. Weasley gently shook her son's shoulder at six in the morning. It was September first; the day the Hogwarts Express left Kings Cross Station.

The lanky boy with shocking red hair grumbled in his sleep and unconsciously buried his face in the pillow to avoid the morning sun streaming through the window into his bedroom.

Mrs. Weasley sighed in frustration. She moved to the other side of the large bed to shake the second boy. He was her son's best friend, and had stayed with the Weasley family for half of the summer. His jet-black hair was just as messy during the day as it was while he slept, and now it was pulled away from his face by the arm the boy had draped across his forehead. A vivid lightening bolt shaped scar stood out on the soft skin just below his hairline. A slight smile curled the corners of his mouth, as if he were having a pleasant dream.

Mrs. Weasley regarded him for a few moments before gently shaking his shoulder. Unlike her own son, his eyes fluttered open immediately. His brilliant green eyes flashed around the room for a moment, just as most people's do when they wake up in a strange place.

"G'morning, Mrs. Weasley."

He smiled more warmly, having remembered where he had fallen asleep.

"Harry, dear. It's time to get up and eat breakfast. You can't miss the train back to school."

Harry's face brightened with anticipation at the prospect of returning to the castle he considered his home, and he threw back the covers and swung his legs out of bed.

Mrs. Weasley headed for the door.

"I'm going to get the others. Try to get the great lump out of bed, will you?" She waved her hand in her youngest son's direction.

Harry smiled and glanced at his sleeping friend, who was drooling on the linen.

"Sure Mrs. Weasley."

"Thank you, Harry, dear."

She exited quietly and swung the door to.

As soon as the door was closed, Harry launched himself at the springy bed, his knees landing right next to his friend, sending him bouncing toward the low ceiling. The boy woke up cursing.

"Harry! What the hell...?"

"Aw, come on, Ron, it was so tempting."

Ron groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. Harry rolled his eyes.

Harry quietly made his way to the side of the bed and took a corner of the bedding in hand. He counted to three silently and then jerked all the covers off Ron's body.

With a faint whimper, Ron curled his knees into his chest.

"Harry, for being fifteen, you sure have a knack for behaving like a hyper-active toddler."

"Is that so bad, Ron?"

"Where is my wand?" Ron said angrily, groped deftly for his wand on the bedside table, only succeeding in knocking it to the floor.

Harry laughed and turned to his trunk, where he had left out muggle clothes to wear to the station the night before. He slipped out of his red paisley pajamas and stuffed them in his trunk before pulling on his clothes. Vaguely, Harry remembered buying his pajamas to match the red hand-me-downs Ron wore. He heard a thud behind him and turned around. Ron had rolled out of bed and was lying in a heap on the floor.

Slowly, everyone in the Weasley house entered the kitchen for breakfast. When Harry and Ron came down the winding, seemingly unstable staircase, Ginny, Ron's sister and Hermione, the two boys' closest friend, were already sitting at the table. Neither of the girls had bothered getting dressed. Ginny still wore a pink nightdress. Hermione had on an oversize t-shirt and boys boxers. They both looked up when Harry and Ron entered the room.

Harry, being the morning person of the group, dropped into a chair next to Hermione.

"Morning, Gin. 'Mione."

Both girls looked up and nodded.

Ron pulled out a chair a place away from Ginny and lowered himself into it. He propped his forehead up on his left hand, while he spooned eggs onto his plate with the other.

A few minutes later, Fred and George, Ron's elder brothers stumbled into the room.

"Good morning everyone," Fred said.

A chorus of morning greetings came from around the table.

George, identical to his twin brother to the last freckle, took a seat next to his sister.

"Everybody ready to go back to school?"

Ginny, Ron and Harry nodded. Hermione brightened up right away. Although she had become much more relaxed with studying and the work since she had started her magical training at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, school was still her element.

"Oh, yes. I'm so excited. I'm taking several advanced placement courses this year. It should be very interesting. Ever since I got my books at Diagon Alley six weeks ago I've been reading up on everything I could. It always helps to be prepared. What are you two taking this year?"

Fred and George glanced at each other.

"Nothing interesting. Arithmomancy, Philosophy, Divination-"

At the mention of Divination, Hermione scowled.

Ron came out of his half-asleep state to glance at Harry, who met his eyes and smiled in a knowing sort of way. Harry and Ron had not dropped Divination when Hermione had in the third year, despite their dislike for the teacher. They only kept the class to get an easy good mark, because as long as they continued to predict doom everywhere, they stayed in the professor's favor.

Hermione took a last gulp of pumpkin juice before standing up to leave the table.

"I'm going to pack the last of my stuff away. Have a good breakfast."

Everyone acknowledged her departure in some way. The twins forced a few belches, Ginny simply said, "Goodbye", Harry looked up and Ron absentmindedly tapped his fork against his plate.

"Come on, Ron. You have some last minute packing to do as well," Harry prodded his friend's arm.

"But Harry! We've only just started breakfast! I'm not finished yet."

"We've been starting breakfast for fifteen minutes. At this rate, we'll miss the train."

Ron allowed himself to be half pulled out of his chair. Harry kept a hand on his back, keeping him moving toward the twisting staircase.

Harry couldn't control the smile that was creeping across his face. He was going back to Hogwarts today. His home. Where people cared about him. Where he could be with other people his age. Where he wasn't ordered around by Aunt Petunia, bullied by Dudley, or threatened by Uncle Vernon.

Ron glanced sideways at Harry. "What are you so happy about?"

"Oh, nothing. We're going to back to school, is all." His smile broadened.

They had now reached the door to Ron's bedroom. Before pushing it open, he grumbled in response to Harry's last remark. Before he knew what was happening, a pair of arms had wrapped themselves around his middle and was squeezing him in a tight embrace.

"Bloody hell, Harry. You're suffocating me."

"Aren't you happy, Ron?"

"Sure, I'm happy. Whatever you say."

Harry got the impression Ron wasn't quite as displeased with the situation as he was letting on. But he released Ron nevertheless and pushed him toward the bed with a sharp twist of his right hip.

Ron dragged himself off the bed and over to his dresser. He pulled open a drawer and started pulling out shirts and throwing them into his trunk. Harry made his way to the window. Pulling it up, he leaned out to feel the fresh morning air. He smiled broadly as a crisp wind riffled his untidy black hair.

"Close the window, you git. The wind is blowing my stuff around."

Ron reached for his copy of Quidditch: Then and Now, which was open on the bedside table. Its pages had been blowing and threatened to tear.

"Downstairs, everyone! Bring all your things!"

Mr. Weasley's magically amplified voice echoed through the house, as he called his children and their friends to pack the car. Harry closed the window and skipped to his trunk and pulled out his wand. Ron kicked his trunk closed and grabbed one end.

"God, this is heavy."

Harry turned around. "Sometimes I wonder about you in the morning. You don't have to carry that huge thing downstairs. Watch." Harry cleared his throat, waved his wand and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The heavy object floated gently into the air. Ron smacked his forehead. "I should have thought of that."

Harry preformed the same spell on his own trunk, then magiced both out the bedroom door and down the stairs. By the time they arrived in the kitchen, everyone else was already there. The twins were carrying luggage from the house to the driveway, where Mr. Weasley was loading it into the back of his new car. The Weasley's station wagon, purchased during Harry and Ron's fourth year, was enchanted to have a much larger capacity than it appeared to from the outside.

"Got everything, crew?" Mr. Weasley surveyed the faces around the kitchen.

A few last minute runs were made to bedrooms to collect forgotten items, and the entire group departing for Kings Cross Station was ready to go. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley all piled into the car. At the sound of the doors slamming, a shrill hooting sound erupted from the trunk.

Ron groaned and covered his face in his hands. "Not now, Pig! Have you got any idea what time it is?"

Apparently, Pigwidgeon wasn't aware of the time. The fist-sized owl continued to screech as the car backed out the driveway.

Ginny was covering her ears. "Ugh, make it stop!"

Ron curled himself into a ball on the seat next to Harry. "I am so not ready for school to start."

"Honestly, haven't you looked up some ways to keep him quiet?" Hermione snapped. She was generally very laid back about most things, but a shrill owl at eight o'clock in the morning was not one of them. She pulled her wand out of her back pocket and pointed it at Pigwidgeon's cage.

"Don't curse him!" Harry shouted stupidly.

"Who's cursing my owl?" Ron unfolded himself in a frenzy.

Hermione glared. "I'm not cursing him, you git. I'm making him quiet. Silencio."

Harry looked sheepish. Ron looked relieved.

"Thanks, Hermione." Ginny said.

"Anytime." Hermione tucked her wand back into her pocket.

After the stressful ride from the Burrow, the Weasley's car arrived at the station. Mrs. Weasley was nearly tearing her own hair out with her frustration with her twin sons, but her husband was laughing merrily. The last of the feathers were molting off Harry, and even Hermione had closed her book to enjoy the festive back-to-Hogwarts atmosphere.

Mr. Weasley found a porter to help get all the luggage out of the trunk of the car, while Fred and George found trolleys.

"Come on, troops. Get your things!"

In just a few minutes, six trolleys were being pushed down the station, heading for Platform 9 3/4.

When they reached the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, Mrs. Weasley stopped and turned around.

"Everyone got their ticket?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Fred held up their train tickets, George patted all his pockets nervously. "Uh, Mum..."

"George, I'm going to skin you alive."

"I had it this morning! I put it right in this pocket, here-" he pushed a hand into his back left pocket.

"Is this it?" Hermione held up George's lost ticket.

"How did you-? I don't even want to know what your hand was doing in my back pocket."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I found it on the stairs this morning. And besides, George. I don't go that way."

Once everyone was sure they had their train ticket, the students and parents began walking toward the barrier. Fred and George went first, one right after the other, disappearing into the solid brick. Hermione and Ginny followed, at something of a run, then Ron and Harry. When Harry got through, he stopped to gaze at the beautiful scarlet steam engine at the platform. He was so busy admiring it that he didn't get out of the way of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who nearly knocked him off his feet when they came through the wall after him.

"Harry, come on!" Hermione beckoned him from about thirty paces down the train. She was helping to lift Ginny's trunk into a compartment. Ron waited nearby with his trunk and Pigwidgeon. Harry smiled and joined them.

Ron was surveying the platform. "I recognize more and more of these people every year."

Hermione snorted. "I wonder why that is."

Harry glanced at Hermione. She had adopted a new look starting at the end of their last year at Hogwarts, which had steadily become more and more of a statement over the summer. Now she was wearing a pair of baggy blue jeans and combat boots. She had on a black tank top and a rainbow colored belt. Her thick brown hair was blue and braided thickly into twin braids right behind her ears, falling in front of her shoulders. Harry admired her. He would have liked to make more of a punk appearance himself, but he decided against it because he already stood out, whether he liked it or not.

Ron's eyes followed the length of the train. A few compartments away, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, two of the boys in his and Harry's year were leaning out of the train windows to wave to people on the platform. Neville Longbottom, another boy the same age was on his knees in front of his trunk frantically looking for something he'd forgotten. The Patil twins, Parvati and Padma, were just coming through the barrier. Each spotted their respective friends and separated. Draco Malfoy, Harry's worst enemy since his first year at school was sitting alone on a bench, a textbook open in his hands.

That's odd. Ron thought to himself. Malfoy never goes anywhere without Crabbe and Goyle. And he's studying!? What did his parents do to him over the summer? He almost looks...well...a bit less hostile than usual.

Ron didn't want to waste too much time over Malfoy. The boy had done everything in his power to make the three friends lives miserable for four years. But when he looked back toward Harry and Hermione, he realized he wasn't the only one watching their long-time tormentor. Harry was gazing at Malfoy with an unreadable _expression and Hermione was looking between Harry and Malfoy with an _expression of mild surprise. Her look startled Ron slightly. She had become a person who was rarely surprised by anything, and very calm about almost everything.

The first blast of the train whistle brought Harry, Hermione and Ron back to reality with a slight jolt. Pushing, pulling and dragging, they got the last bit of luggage they had onto the train and onto the racks. They then stepped outside to say goodbye to the Weasley's.

"Goodbye Mrs. Weasley. Thanks for having me over the summer."

Mrs. Weasley crushed Harry into a smothering hug. "It was a pleasure, dear. We're looking into having you for next summer as well, if Dumbledore will consider it safe." She reached out and pulled Ron and Hermione into the embrace. "And Hermione! I'm so happy you could come. We'll miss you all while you're at school."

"Mum, let go, you're suffocating us!" Ron complained, from under his mother's left arm.

Mr. Weasley stood beside his wife, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Really, Molly, they're just going to school."

Mrs. Weasley ignored her husband and hugged Ginny. She whispered a few words into her youngest child's ear; she nodded and kissed her cheek. One last quick hug, and they pulled apart.

"Dear..."

"I'm not done just yet!" She made her way over to Fred and George, who tried to wriggle away but were caught hopelessly in their mother's loving, but vice-like grip. "Now boys, I'm warning you, you had better stay out of trouble this year. If I get one owl home reporting your bad behavior, you'll both be mince meat by the time I'm through with you."

"Don't worry, mum. We'll intercept all owls going to the Burrow and screen the letters before they get to you."

"Yeah, don't worry. You'll receive no bad reports about us!"

Mrs. Weasley was about to retort when her husband gently took her by the arm and steered her away. "Don't forget to owl us! We love hearing from all of you!"

The whistle blew again and all those departing for Hogwarts boarded the train. Harry sat at the train window and waved to the Mr. and Mrs. Weasley until they were out of sight. It didn't take long. The train traveled at an alarming rate.

Harry slid back from the window and pushed it shut. Hermione and Ron were settling in for a long ride. Ron already had a sandwich out and Hermione was dropping books onto the seat next to her.

"Where'd Gin go?" Harry asked.

"She didn't say." Hermione answered.

Ron made a vague gesture toward the door with his hand. "Just left."

"Oh." Harry sat down and picked up one of Hermione's books. It was Modern Dance of the Twenty-Second Century. "Hermione, what is this?"

"Is this some kind of trick question from The-Boy-With-No-Logic?"

"Well, I can see it's a book." Harry said stupidly. "But why do you have a book about dance. I didn't know you danced."

"Well, I don't, but I will this year."

Harry was confused. "But...how? I mean, where will you take lessons?"

"Oh, sorry. I thought I told you."

"What?" Harry and Ron chorused, in unison.

"Last spring I sent an owl to Dumbledore suggesting that more classes be offered in the way of self-_expression, because it can be very important for most people, teenagers in particular, to have a way to express themselves on a daily basis."

Harry and Ron watched their motivated friend with expected faces.

"So he looked into the possibilities and found a dance instructor, who will give weekly dance classes to the students."

Neither of the boys had any positive experience with dance in their lives. "Is it optional?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Hermione answered, "but not for you and Harry."

Harry swallowed. Just the thought of dancing made him nervous. When he had been forced to dance in front of the entire school with Parvati. "Why isn't it optional for us?"

"Because I've decided this is a good opportunity for you both."

Harry remained silent, but Ron groaned. "Yeah, a great opportunity to make fools of ourselves."

"There's no such thing as making a fool of yourself in a dance class which is for the purpose of expressing yourself. The only way by which you can fail is by failing to try."

"Well, aren't we the intellectual one today, 'Mione?" Ron humphed.

Hermione answered coolly. "Not you, Ron."

Harry wasn't about to say so in front of Ron, but he thought the idea of a dance class was rather appealing. If it wasn't partner dancing, like he had had to do last year, and it was solely for the purpose of self-_expression and creativity, Hermione was right, it could be beneficial.

The sound of the compartment door sliding open brought Harry back to the present time. To his surprise, the person standing in the doorframe was Draco Malfoy. He hadn't yet changed into his school robes. He was wearing semi-tight leather pants and a stretchy black shirt with a silver collar and hems. His white-blonde hair reached to about the bottom of his ears, not quite to his shoulders. It looked messy, in a styled way, if that was possible. He was wearing his familiar smirk, but somehow, Harry didn't think it looked backed by the same amount of malice he knew to be behind it. The boy's _expression was almost friendly, but no, Harry thought, not quite.

"Well, if it isn't the Dream Team."

None of the three residents of the compartment seemed to want to, or be able to do anything about the intruder. They had all noticed the change in his demeanor since last year. Even Hermione was unable to hide her surprise.

If Draco noticed their odd behavior, he didn't show it. Instead he took a seat opposite Harry. "Mind if I join you?"

"Where are Crabbe and Goyle?" Ron asked.

Draco smiled in a mirthless sort of way. "Oh, them. I knew you'd ask that. They've been sent to Durmstrang."

"Why Durmstrang?" Hermione asked.

"Their parents didn't seem to think I was a very good influence on them. Father refused to transfer me, so they got pulled out of Hogwarts." While he spoke, he fussed with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. "Does anyone have a pair of nail scissors?"

Hermione flipped open her case and pulled out a smaller bag, from which she drew a pair of nail scissors. She handed them to Draco, who clipped off the loose thread and handed back the scissors. Hermione put them back with her things.

"Thanks, Granger." Draco said. Harry and Ron watched the strange display of politeness with fascination. What happened to the slimy little grease-ball who had tormented them since the first day of school years ago?

"They thought you were a bad influence? Aren't they Death Eaters?" Ron continued.

"They are Death Eaters." If possible, Draco's normally inexpressive features became even more so than usual.

"But you...you can't be considered a bad influence by other Death Eaters. I mean, your aspirations in life all amount to joining You-Know-Who and becoming his right hand man or something."

Draco was in Ron's face before he had time to draw breath. "Don't. Ever. Make. Assumptions. About. Me."

Ron didn't move. In another moment, Draco was out the compartment door, his black leather pant leg the last thing to disappear around the compartment doorframe.

"What crawled up his butt and died?" Ron said to no one in particular.

"Oh. I did not need to picture that." Hermione shut her eyes tightly, as if to block an unwelcome scene.

"In case you guys noticed, Malfoy was actually being decent until you called him a Death Eater, Ron."

"I only called him that because he is. Everyone knows that."

Hermione, her usual logical self, sighed. "Ron, that may just be the reason he got upset. Everyone considers him a Death Eater, or at least someone who aspires to be a Death Eater, just because he's the son of one of the most favored among You-Know-Who's followers. Maybe he doesn't want to follow in Mr. Malfoy's footsteps and is tired of people thinking he's something he's not. And the fact that his friends' parents didn't approve of him is even more proof of that theory. They, being Death Eaters themselves, must have thought he was behaving in a way to counter You-Know-Who's followers."

Harry saw her point. It seemed reasonable enough. "But why would he decide so suddenly that he doesn't want to follow Voldemort?"

Ron winced. Hermione frowned. "I don't know. You should ask him that."

"Hermione, have you gone mad? Since when does Malfoy feel any kind of anti-Dark sentiments?"

"Ron, you should try to see the story from someone else's point of view once in a while. You know, consider the big picture. It can be very enlightening."

Harry was half listening to his friends' conversation. Should he seek out Malfoy to talk to him? The son of Lucius Malfoy definitely seemed bothered by something. Harry knew it helped him to talk with someone like Hermione about his problems. Did the other boy have someone in his own house he could confide in like that? Probably not, all the Slytherins seemed way too self-absorbed to bother with other people. And most importantly, what had happened that would change Malfoy's mind so completely and suddenly?

For the rest of the five-hour train ride, Harry thought sporadically about Malfoy, and his apparent change in heart. He also shared a game of wizard chess with Ron, in which he spectacularly lost to a ruthless knight.

While the train was nearing Hogsmeade, Hermione turned to Harry. "Are you going to talk to him?"

Harry was taken aback. "Why me?"

"He was talking more directly to you than to either of us. Didn't you notice? He clearly came in here to see you."

Both Ron and Harry gaped. "Why would he come in to socialize with Harry?"

"Stop asking me questions I have no way of knowing the answer to, Ron."

"Sorry, I forget you get angry when you feel like you don't know everything." Ron retorted. Harry ignored their bickering. Neither of them meant any harm and there was a mutual understanding between them that nothing was directed in an offensive way.

Once again, Harry left them to their arguing to think about Malfoy. What was compelling him to care this much about a boy who had done his best to make his life hell ever since Harry declined his hand in friendship in their first year?