Spider Webs

Spider Webs

~ ~~ ~

Part 1:

~ ~~ ~

"Don't go

I know you wanna touch me

Here

There

And everywhere

Sparks fly

When we are together

You can't deny the facts

Of life..."

"Kiss Kiss," by Holly Vallance

~ ~~ ~

Chapter One:

Harry woke up on the thirty first of August to the frantic voice of Mrs. Weasley exclaiming, "We're never going to have enough time! The alarm didn't wake me and now we're going to be late and there won't be enough time to get them all what they need!"

He rolled over and was blinded by the sunlight streaming through his window. He groaned and tried to stuff his head under his pillows, but it was too late. Mrs. Weasley, having enlisted Bill and Charlie to help, stormed into the room he was sharing with Ron and threw his blankets off saying, "Up you get, Harry. There's a dear. Ronald, I know you're awake, now get up or you'll go to school in the same robes you wore last year."

Then she was gone, leaving a very sleep-muddled Harry and a grumpy Ron behind to stare at an entirely too perky Bill and a grinning Charlie. Harry sat up and rubbed at the back of his head, working out the morning itches while he felt around on the bedside table for his glasses.

"Where are we late for?" Ron mumbled.

"Picking up your supplies from Diagon Alley, of course. It's the day before term starts and the traditional family trip to Diagon Alley must take place or you shall know the wrath of Mummy," Bill's voice reverberated merrily though Harry's skull and he barely kept himself from wincing.

"The wrath of Mummy? That's not very convincing," Harry said, pushing his glasses up his nose as he contemplated the possibility of dozing off in Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. She does have lots of fabric in there, I'm sure she wouldn't mind me laying down for a mite...

"That woman," Ron began as he tried to shove himself off his bed and failed, plopping back down and sighing contentedly as he closed his eyes.

"Will chop you up into itty bitty pieces if she catches you like that, and us along with you," finished Charlie, winking at Harry. "The only one who might escape unscathed is Harry."

While Charlie had been speaking, Bill had come up quietly next to Ron's bed and, shaking his head mournfully, took out his wand. He made a few elaborate flicks with his wrist and pointed his wand at his brother's bare back. Ron howled as icy water hit him.

Some things, Harry thought, watching a gleeful Bill dodge his brother's flailing limbs, will never change.

Leaving the squalling Ron and his cackling elder brothers behind Harry made his way to the bathroom and prayed the girls hadn't been woken yet. He'd never get a hot shower if they got to the bathroom first.

His luck held and he was the first in the small room. He turned and locked the door, reaching for the shower knobs as he did. When the water was hot he stepped in and, only after several minutes, realized he'd forgotten to take his glasses off. He sighed and took them off, reaching through the bath curtain to put them on the sink.

When he'd finished bathing he wrapped a towel around his waist and brushed his teeth. He then made his way back to the room past a scowling Ginny and a studying Hermione.

He shook his head. Hermione had been very preoccupied with Ron this summer and hadn't made it through her entire reading list. Needless to say, she was beginning to panic. She glanced up slightly to see that she could step a few more feet closer to the bathroom door and smiled a bit, then stuck her head back in her book.

Ginny, on the other hand, didn't even look up from her toes as he passed her, only scowling fiercely when she saw how much of the communal toothpaste was left. Harry shrugged at her and continued on.

Upon reaching his door he saw that a very wet Ron was on his way to the bathroom and grinned to himself as he thought about the possibility of Hermione actually reading more than a page that morning with Ron standing in line behind her. Not likely, he thought. Harry smiled again as he began dressing.

As he finished he heard an undignified shriek as someone downstairs flushed the toilet and scalded whoever was in the shower. It sounded like Ginny. He looked Heavenward, pitying the poor soul who would face her at the breakfast table, then he headed for the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley was directing the cooking downstairs with gusto, brandishing her wand like a sword; threatening her pots and pans with some horrible fate should they slow. She spared him a harried smile as she poked a knife cutting sausage, then turned toward the stairs and yelled, "Charlie! Bill! Make sure they get down here now!"

Harry sat at the table and leaned his head back, wishing he and Ron hadn't stayed up so late the night before looking at the newest broom models in Quidditch Weekly.

"Alright...who did it?"

He turned his head slowly to watch Ginny in all her molten glory as she stormed into the kitchen demanding to know who'd flushed.

"Ginny, dear, I don't know. I've been here since I woke everyone up. Do be helpful and chop the potatoes, will you?" Mrs. Weasley asked, not turning to see if her daughter actually began cutting up the potatoes.

With a careless wave of her wand at the potatoes lying on the counter and an unused knife Ginny demanded, "Who else is down here?"

"As far as I know it's just Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, directing the full force of Ginny's ire at him. He was beginning to get worried as Ginny stalked toward him slowly when her mother said, "But he just got down here, so it couldn't have been him."

Ginny sighed, slightly deflated, and turned back to the potatoes. Harry closed his eyes again and sank down in his seat.

Sleep, he thought wistfully.

"Harry, dear, didn't you sleep well?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Harry opened his eyes in time to catch her blowing a few wayward strands of hair from her eyes as she glanced about the kitchen at her cutlery.

"I slept alright," he replied, closing his eyes again and resting his chin on his chest as he thought longingly of his nice, warm bed upstairs. In truth he hadn't slept very well at all, having dreamt of falling from his broom and plummeting toward the ground multiple times. He'd awoken three or four times after he and Ron had actually put out the light around two, but he couldn't tell Mrs. Weasley that.

"Ah well. It's probably just nerves, this being your last year and all..." she trailed off and Harry heard a clatter as some utensil fell to the floor, followed by a loud cry of, "Blast!"

Harry cracked an eye. He saw her bending over to pick up a wooden spoon and manually start stirring the eggs in a pan on the stove.

Harry was mere moments from slumping over in his chair when Hermione walked in and tapped him on the shoulder. "Harry," she said, "I need you to scoot so I can get to my chair."

He grunted and scooted, then put his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands, hoping he'd be able to keep himself propped up. A few seconds later Ron came down and Harry just rolled his eyes.

Those two are so very blatant, he thought as he snorted at Ron's blush and moved again so his friend could get by. They could have at least come down a few minutes apart. They're just lucky Mrs. Weasley's too busy cooking to've noticed.

After that breakfast passed in a blur. Then everyone took a handful of Floo powder, threw it on the fire, and stepped inside, shouting "Madame Malkin's!"

Harry stumbled from the grate and into a sleepy person's worst nightmare.

He groaned.

Seconds later someone else groaned behind him and he knew Ron had just come through. Harry turned and stared into Ron's wide, horrified eyes.

"First years," Ron squeaked, stunned by the mass of tiny people running around the shop in various states of dress. The girls were especially terrifying with their ribbons and the rolls of cloth they were clutching. Harry was quite positive that there would be bruises on many a young body come morning and his assessment was only confirmed as a scuffle broke out to his left. Just as a young red-head with a thick Scottish accent swung a roll of vibrant purple at a tallish blonde, Harry decided that fabric should be labeled a deadly weapon and young girls in possession of bolts of fabric should be avoided at all cost, as they were obviously armed and dangerous.

"Harry, we have to get out of here! Now I know why Mum's always saying we need to get here so early! Look at them, Harry...there're so many..."

Harry took hold of Ron's arm, and by proxy Hermione's. He then forcibly dragged his friends from the shop and out into a street no less crowded than the shop. They could hear Mrs. Weasley faintly over the roar of the masses as she called, "Meet me..." Though they couldn't quite catch where they were supposed to meet her.

"Maybe the bookstore will be less crowded," Harry suggested hopefully. Hermione brightened and took the lead, hooking her arm through Ron's. Harry walked along behind them, letting them have their couple-moments in peace. He smiled to himself and slowed a bit more, letting the distance between himself and his friends increase.

They really haven't had as much time as they deserved this summer, he thought, remembering all the interrupted moments and the looks Mrs. Weasley had been sending them most mornings.

Harry's rather foggy thought process was derailed when a very familiar voice called out, "Oh look, poor Potty. Everybody's leaving you behind, aren't they?"

Harry froze, stiffening at the snide tone. He turned slowly without calling to Ron and Hermione, so his friends continued walking, lost in their tiny bubble of togetherness. Harry, on the other hand, found himself face to face with, quite possibly, the last person he'd wanted to see that morning...or ever, really.

"Malfoy. What do you what?" He asked coldly, wishing the Slytherin would go away. Harry wasn't conscious enough to make up coherent insults.

"My, my, how times have changed. Feeling left out? Tell me, how long did it take for you to get tired of the gruesome twosome? They didn't get too cozy when you were around, I trust," Draco Malfoy, pure-blood wonder, shuddered theatrically, his eyes cold as he looked at his archenemy. "Just the idea is enough to give me nightmares."

"Shut your face," Harry replied, falling back on the age-old exchange and wishing his brain would jump-start and begin functioning.

"Tsk, how rude," Malfoy declared.

"No, that's your department," Harry returned, wondering if he could pull off simply melting back into the mass of people behind him.

"But you seem to have taken over remarkably well. I do believe your social skills, which were inferior to begin with, have completely rusted away to nothingness," the other boy stated, obviously relishing the chance to sharpen his wit on his usual target.

"Slither back into your hole, Malfoy, and stop pestering those of us with lives," Harry advised, wondering how long it would take Malfoy to get bored and go away.

"A hole, Potter? How cliché. That's so overused when it comes to Slytherins. Is that the best you can do? I'm disappointed. Not that you were much of a verbal sparring partner to begin with, but you used to be more original."

"Shove off and go pester someone else," Harry growled, turning away from the other young man and trying to make his way through the ever-increasing crowds.

"Ah, but where's the fun in that?" Malfoy taunted, eyes shining maliciously as he watched Harry retreat.

Harry ignored Malfoy's last question and pushed forward through the crowd, searching over the heads of those around him for the sign to Flourish and Blott's Bookstore.

~ ~~ ~

"Harry! There you are! We couldn't find you in this crush! We picked up your copies of the standard books for this year, but you'll need to go find the Advanced Potions book, your Magical Maladies book, and the Quidditch manual Madame Hooch wanted you to get," Hermione rambled cheerfully when Harry found them in an almost-deserted corner of Flourish and Blott's. "Here's Transfiguration for seventh years, the Advanced Charms book, the Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts book, as well as the new Care of Magical Creatures book Hagrid wanted us to get. This one, at least, doesn't have teeth..."

"Oi, I still can't believe you're taking Advanced Potions, Harry. Why subject yourself to Snape for another year? Weren't we planning on being free?" Ron had been utterly horrified when Harry signed up for the course but had been even more mystified that Harry had actually made it into the class.

"Yeah well. Like I said before, I think it'll help with my Medical Studies. Thanks, guys. I really appreciate you two finding all this stuff for me," Harry told them, smiling.

"Oh, it's really no problem, Harry," Hermione told him, glancing over her shoulder. "What took you so long, though?"

"I was stalled by none other than our favorite Slytherin, one Draco Malfoy," Harry told her, scanning the shelves beside him to see what section they were in.

"God, he accosted you? I swear. It's getting earlier and earlier every year!" Ron was indignant, but didn't put as much emphasis on it this year as he might have in years past. Hermione was distracting him again. Harry could have laughed when he glanced over at his friends.

"Right. Well guys. We're in Magical Maladies right now," Harry said, looking for the book Madame Pomfrey wanted him to get for this year. When he'd found it he turned to say, "I need Potions and Quidditch. Herm, can you help me out? Which direction are they in?"

"Um...they're both over in that direction," she said, waving vaguely toward a few rows of shelves across the store as Ron looked both ways and crossed to a narrow opening in the wall.

Ron pulled Hermione inside and called, "Don't 'look' for us too hard when Mum asks where we are..."

Harry sighed and waded through the hordes of first and second year students on his way toward the sections Hermione had indicated.

Harry found his Quidditch Manual easily enough and was in the process of searching the shelves of Potions books when he heard an all-too familiar laugh coming from one section over. He ducked carefully and slipped around the corner of his row just as Draco Malfoy walked around the other end with his mother.

"Mother, you really can't say that," Draco was in the process of responding to something his mother had said.

"But Dray, it's really quite obvious. There is no hope whatsoever. You should simply stop and accept defeat," his mother smiled slowly, a delicate curving of the lips that actually reached her eyes. Harry was surprised.

"Mother, I'm a Malfoy. I don't accept defeat. I lie, cheat, and coerce until the outcome I want is the only possible one left," Draco said, grinning impishly at his mother. Harry's brows arched. He'd never considered that the Malfoy parent-child relationship might actually be pleasant.

"Draco, my dear, there is no hope of that boy passing Advanced Potions. I'm sorry. I don't even know why Severus let him in the class in the first place," Narcissa said, gesticulating dramatically as she scanned the titles for the book they were searching for.

"Really Mother, Professor Snape doesn't let just anyone into Advanced Potions. Which means that if Potter's in it he did something right on the OWL a few terms ago," Draco explained, distracted now by his search for the book. "Where is the blasted thing?"

"I still don't think he's going to pass this year," Narcissa informed her son as she pointed to a book a few shelves above her outstretched hand. "I think I've found it."

Harry gaped silently. They were discussing his academic ability? And Malfoy was defending his intelligence? Poor Harry's mind boggled at the concept.

"Mother, if Professor Snape let him in the class," Draco repeated, reaching for the book over his mother's head, "Then he's got enough of the past curriculum down to be able to make the potions without blowing the entire school up."

"Explain to me again," Narcissa demanded with a roll of her eyes, "Why you decided to wait until your final year to take Advanced Potions? Did you know at the time that the Potter boy would be in your class?"

"Mother, I took Advanced Potions this year because that's when it fit into my schedule. I couldn't take Advanced Arithmacy this year because the possibility that I would lose the information over last school year and summer was too great, especially since there is no one in the house who would be able to help me with Arithmacy," Draco gave his mother a pointed look and she snorted. "So Advanced Potions got pushed back since there's little chance I'd forget any of it as I use potions almost every day."

Narcissa huffed a bit but ended up just shrugging. If she noticed that Draco had nicely sidestepped her latter question, she paid no mind. "Well anyway," she said, looking at the rest of the shelves, "We're going to need to get your dress robes as well as those quills you wanted and your special ink. You and your idiosyncrasies. It amazes me that you've made it this far in your school career without one of your teachers killing you."

"But Mother! They love my penmanship," Draco replied smugly.

Harry had had about as much Malfoy-family-cuteness as he could stand. He began to wish that he'd never signed up for Advanced Potions, that he hadn't decided it would be a wonderful idea to take the class in hopes of furthering his medical studies with Madame Pomfrey.

He'd considered taking the course last year, but his official Quidditch-instructing sessions had interfered with the Advanced Potions lessons so he'd pushed it back until this year. He'd also thought Malfoy would be taking it during sixth year so he'd be able to avoid that particular torture.

So much for that bit of 'sound' logic, Harry thought mournfully, wishing Malfoy and his mother would just go away.

Leave, leave, leave, leave, please just leave, Harry's mind chanted as he stood at the end of the row of books. And please, please, please don't let them come this way!

Finally the Malfoys left to pay for their purchases and Harry was able to get his Advanced Potions books. It was the last copy and he supposed he was lucky there had been two when he'd dashed from his search to hide.

He snorted to himself, thinking, Lucky indeed. I doubt Malfoy would've been willing to share.

~ ~~ ~

Mrs. Weasley nearly tore the bookstore apart when she decided that her Ickle Ronikins must be in some kind of trouble. However, with some helpful steering from Harry and some rather unsubtle coughs from a rather red Ginny, Hermione and Ron were able to miraculously appear before his mother found them in a compromising position.

It wasn't that Mrs. Weasley didn't like Hermione. She was actually quite fond of her. But her traditional opinion of when and where such 'intimate activities' should take place made it difficult for Ron and Hermione to be together in the same room without his mother staring suspiciously at them.

"Thanks, mate. Don't know what we'd've done if she stormed over just then..." Ron said in an undertone, trailing off as his mother approached, bearing down on them with a pile of books.

"Here, these are Ginny's. Carry them, will you Ron?" Then Mrs. Weasley turned and made for the door through the throng huddled about the exit.

~ ~~ ~

"Right. Now that we've got everything, let's get home so you can all pack," Mrs. Weasley said, eyeing the four of them with something akin to mild approval.

Harry noticed then that Ron's arms were loaded with books and various other packages, which ensured he wouldn't be able to hold Hermione's hand, and shook his head. Mrs. Weasley schemed about as blatantly as her son carried on a relationship with his girlfriend in the house over the summer.

Ginny was holding the bags from Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, all bulging with new robes for Ron and herself.

Harry, having only just come into the store, was only carrying his bag of books and quills, as well as the new cauldron he'd been required to get for Advanced Potions. He'd have to have his special ingredients delivered after he arrived at Hogwarts. There were just too many of them to carry. He'd made the arrangement with the clerk in the potions store moments before and was quite pleased with the outcome. The man was really very understanding.

"Oi, Mum! Can we get a butter beer at the Leaky Cauldron?" Ron asked hopefully.

"We don't have time, dear. You can get one when you go to Hogsmeade," replied Mrs. Weasley, heading toward the fireplace at the other end of the shop.

Ron sighed disappointedly and trudged along in her wake.

~ ~~ ~

Evening shadows were seeping through the curtains in the kitchen when Harry finally stepped from the fireplace and into the Weasley's kitchen. Mrs. Weasley didn't waste any time, though, calling, "Alright, boys. I want you to both go upstairs and start packing. Make sure that your new things are stored away in your trunks. Ron, I don't want you leaving anything important behind this year," after them as they made their way up the winding stairs to Ron's room. Ron had left two of his best robes at home the year before last and all of his socks this past year. He just rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and continued upward.

"You know, Harry, I'm beginning to appreciate the suffocation effect Fred and George told us about. I'm 18! I don't need her nagging," griped Ron, flinging robes and books into his school trunk at random.

Harry was a bit more organized in his packing. He put all his shirts in first and then his trousers. Socks and his two pairs of shoes were followed by his school robes for easy access so he'd be able to change on the train. He was almost unable to fit everything his trunk. "Ron," Harry asked, "Would you mind sitting on my trunk for a mite? I can't quite make it close."

Ron nodded agreeably and plunked himself down on Harry's trunk.

"No problem, Harry. Do you want to risk the kitchen to see what's for dinner?"

"Is finding out worth the price if she decides to make us chop up squash and onions again?"

"Hm...good point. And what if we're having liver? I hate slicing liver," Ron considered the consequences of his curiosity and shook his head. "It's not worth it. Let's just stay here, where it's nice and safe."

Harry nodded and flopped down on his bed. He threw his arm over his eyes and sighed happily, thinking he'd be able to catch up on his sleep by taking a much needed nap, when Ron said, "So Harry, what was all that about with Malfoy this morning?"

"I don't know, Ron. The same as usual, I suppose," Harry replied, hoping Ron would drop the conversation.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry mentally threw his hand up in the air in defeat. It was useless to hope that Ron would drop the subject now. "He was snotty and obnoxious, same as always. He insulted me and you and Herm. He just acted like he always does," Harry was very tired and not in the mood to put up with an interrogation.

"Oh. Well that's alright I guess..." Ron seemed unsure and Harry felt guilty for snapping at him.

"Don't worry about it, Ron. I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. Maybe I could just grab a quick snack downstairs and say I'm finishing up my packing. I really need to get some sleep..." Harry hoped that Ron would just leave the subject there.

"Alright then. I'll let Mum know you're not up for a full-fledged dinner and grab you some of last night's leftovers. Just make sure all your packing is really done. I'll be back up in a few," Ron replied after a moment.

Harry sighed thankfully and surveyed the room from his horizontal position. He made a mental note to check the room for any stray belongings more thoroughly in the morning and rolled over, not even waiting for Ron to return with his dinner before drifting off into a sound sleep.

~ ~~ ~

The next morning Harry awoke to the grey light of predawn, too excited, despite his still-foggy mind, to go back to sleep. He was going back to Hogwarts for his final year and after that the world was full of open doorways.

Moving as quietly as he could, he picked up his clothing off the trunk at the end of his bed and went to the bathroom, only to find someone else had beaten him there. "Morning, Ginny," he said softly as she walked past him. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I never can the night before we go back," she replied just as quietly. "I'm too happy. Don't get me wrong, I love the Burrow and Mum, but she can be so overbearing!"

Harry simply nodded and continued on into the bathroom. When he'd finished his shower and dressed he crept downstairs and got himself a glass of orange juice. He didn't dare get anything else since Mrs. Weasley would be disappointed. The family breakfast before everyone went their separate way during the school year had become something of an informal tradition.

I wonder what she's going to do when Ginny's completed school and there's no one here left to baby...Harry thought as he stared longingly at the bread on the counter. If he wasn't too far off, he suspected she'd begin pushing for grandchildren. Harry smiled as he imagined the gleeful Ron he'd see when it became all too apparent that Bill was expected to produce the next wave of red-haired terrors. He'd no doubt take very justifiable pleasure in teasing his oldest brother.

Just then Mr. Weasley came down the stairs in his sleeping robes and yawned, "I've been sent to prepare the eggs. I suspect Charlie and Bill will be down any moment to help with the bacon and sausage. Molly's going to get as much work out of those two while they're here as she possibly can..."

Harry stood up to help Mr. Weasley, who gratefully handed over a wire whisk and a bowl, along with a dozen eggs. He asked, "Where's Bill going this time? And Charlie?"

"Oh, Bill's flying out September 18^th for the Americas. Evidently the Muggle economy there has actually begun to affect Gringotts' sister bank in New York and they're sending him to assess the damage and try to come up with several plans to help them out of the slump. Then he's going to China, flying out on the 4^th of October. I'm sure you've heard him going on about the wards the ancient emperors had placed on their tomes. He's completely fascinated. Charlie's heading down to South Africa a few days after Bill leaves for New York. He's going to check into some reports that an African Wingless has been terrorizing a village. Supposedly the thing's been killing off livestock and now it's come very close to seriously injuring a woman and her child. It's been scaring the Muggles witless..."

Mr. Weasley continued in this vein while Harry finished manually preparing the eggs and began slicing bread. He thought about what he was planning to do with himself after school. There were so many options. He could become an Auror or a Mediwizard. He could stay on at Hogwarts as an aide to one of the other teachers until a vacancy in a field he was qualified to teach came up. He could move to Muggle-London where he could try to lose himself and avoid the war everyone knew was coming. Or he could do the more responsible thing and train in various areas so he could face it head-on.

It's probably best to just face the war. It'll end up catching up with me sometime, and it's good to be prepared, he thought, putting the bread on a baking sheet and placing it in the oven.

He resented the fact that his entire life had been dictated by actions taken by others before he was old enough to know what any of it meant. There was a very real possibility that he and everyone he loved could be killed or injured in the war and that frightened him.

He'd seen enough death to last him a lifetime. He didn't need to attend any closed-casket funerals because there was so little left of the person inside that to open the lid would simply be inhumane. He didn't want to walk by an opened casket and see a familiar face inside, skin too pale and eyes closed forever.

The thought of dying didn't particularly frighten him. He didn't know where he'd go afterward, if anywhere, but the thought of being dead didn't bother him nearly so much as the fact that if he survived there'd be no one left who'd know him.

Just as he closed the oven door Mrs. Weasley came downstairs, Ginny, Bill, and Charlie in tow, and jerked him from his morbid thoughts. "Ginny," she said, "Set out the jam and butter, please. Bill--"

Bill yawned hugely, interrupting his mother as he mussed his hair, "Mum, I'll go cut the fruit."

Charlie grinned and rolled his eyes at Harry, then mimed pushing his brother into the kitchen sink and dunking his head under the water. Harry smiled back and Ginny laughed.

"Charlie," Mrs. Weasley continued, shaking her head, "Please cook the bacon and sausage."

"Yes, Mum."

Harry wondered when it would occur to Mrs. Weasley that Ron and Hermione were upstairs all by themselves. Just as she was turning toward the stairs Ron poked his head around the corner and asked, "Mum, have you seen any of my socks?"

His face was slightly flushed and his mother narrowed her eyes but replied, "They're in a pile in the laundry, dear." Ron nodded and came all the way down the stairs, to the laundry, then went back upstairs.

Meanwhile Hermione had come downstairs and now sat at the kitchen table, her nose once again stuck in a very large book. Harry went and sat beside her.

"Did she notice we weren't down?" Hermione asked, her lips barely moving and her eyes still fixed on the page before her.

"Yes, but you two timed it perfectly and she really can't say anything about it," Harry replied, covering his mouth with a hand and pretending to yawn as he spoke.

Hermione's lips twitched fractionally and she glanced up briefly in a silent thank you before returning to her book.

Just then the rest of the Weasley's in residence descended upon the kitchen and began bringing plates of food to the table. Breakfast began.

It was a loud, friendly affair full of laughter and playful arguing about who stuck what where and pushed over the jam. Mrs. Weasley had everything well in hand and they were actually able to finish breakfast and be in the car a few minutes before schedule. Bill and Charlie stood in the doorway and watched the 7^th years pack their trunks into the storage at the rear after affectionately swatting Ron and hugging Hermione. They each shook Harry's hand and then waved as the car drove out of sight.

~ ~~ ~

They reached Platform 9 ¾ without any problems and loaded their trunks into their train car. Then Ron hugged his mother, shook his father's hand, and got into the car himself. Hermione smiled at the Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and waved as she followed Ron into the car. Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a rather tight hug with an extra squeeze and patted his cheek before saying, "You be careful this year, dear...and here, make sure Ron gets his corned beef sandwich, and Ginny, too."

Mr. Weasley just smiled, put his arm around his wife, and shook Harry's hand. "Study hard, and keep Ron on track."

Harry stepped into the train and sat across from Ron and Hermione. His stomach fluttered as the train moved slowly forward and he couldn't keep a silly grin off his face as he stared out the window.

He was enjoying the view from the compartment window when his daze was rudely interrupted by none other than Draco Malfoy. The door to the car slid open and Malfoy's all-too familiar face sneered through the doorway at him. The blond leaned against the doorframe and spoke through tightly clenched teeth. "Well, Potter, some things never change. Still too foolish to know what's good for you."

"My life wouldn't be complete without this yearly bit of pre-school torture, Malfoy, but I think you've overdone it this time. Twice within two days is just a tiny bit much. And having been through it for six previous years, your lack of variety has become tiresome," Harry reeled off before Malfoy could get going. He was rather confused by Malfoy's body language, but he didn't need Ron jumping in and trying to defend him. Some things really were getting a bit old. He looked expectantly at Malfoy and waited for the insults he knew would fly any moment.

However he was to be disappointed. Malfoy simply narrowed his eyes and said, "I'm so glad to know our interaction has come to mean so much to you." He then turned around, robes swishing behind him, and exited the cart, snapping the door closed as he went.

Harry sat very still for a moment before turning to an open-mouthed Ron and a staring Hermione.

"That was certainly...different?" Hermione seemed rather unsure if what she'd just witnessed had actually taken place or if she'd been trapped in an alternate dimension.

Ron simply looked from Harry to the now-closed door and gaped like a fish. He slowly shook his head and said, "What that slimy git won't do for shock factor..." Then he settled next to Hermione again and ate a chocolate frog. Harry just sat where he was for a few more minutes before standing up and opening the window.

The chill breeze from outside cooled his face and let him think. He was rather confused and let down. Despite what he'd said before he'd been expecting a bit more from their traditional compartment conflict. It was a constant in his life, and though he couldn't say that he looked forward to it, exactly, he'd hoped for a bit more, now that he thought about it.

He sighed. Then his eyes lit up as the castle came into view behind the train station in Hogsmeade. He inhaled slowly through his nostrils before closing the window and turning to find Ron and Hermione rather occupied. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. "Guys, we're here." His two best friends broke apart and straightened their rumpled clothing. As the train slowed they changed their robes and readied their various animal cages, then waited for the train to stop completely and for the crowds to dissipate so they could get off their car without being trampled.

Neville had saved them some room in his carriage and Harry inclined his head to the two thestrals pulling their carriage as he climbed inside. The ride up the long drive to the castle passed quickly and when they disembarked Harry smiled a little.

He was truly home, though he couldn't help wondering if this year would be like all those before, full of danger and death.

~ ~~ ~