As the sharp ringing of an alarm clock cut through air, a weary hand snatched it from the bedside table and silenced the offending device. With a muffled yawn, Harry wriggled out from beneath his duvet and replaced the clock in its usual home. Moving to sit upright he stretched his arms and legs and looked around blearily. After taking a moment to recognise his surroundings, he smiled wearily and hopped out of bed to start the day.
Harry shuffled across the bare and creaky floorboards towards the small bathroom where he began his morning ablutions. After a quick shower and brushing his teeth, he looked back out over his room and smiled warmly.
His room was quite small (not that he needed a lot of space) and rather bare, furnished only with some rickety wooden furniture. The room was barely decorated too, the walls being covered in the distasteful red patterned wallpaper that one can only see in a traditional British pub. Despite the lacklustre surroundings, however, no room had ever been more perfect to Harry. It symbolised the one thing he celebrated every day.
"I am free." He murmured, a crooked smile on his face.
No longer was he doomed to return to the torment of the Dursley family. He had lived in the Leaky Cauldron pub for the last month with no interference, achieving much and greatly enjoying his time there. However, while this place had been a welcome haven after his return to the past, he would be leaving today.
It was the 1st of September 1991. Soon, Harry would be travelling to Kings Cross Station to start the journey back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was returning to the first true home he had ever known, and more importantly, would be reunited with the brown-haired witch he loved.
As he quickly dressed and began to pack his belongings, a warm feeling settled in his chest as he thought of Hermione. He longed to see her again, and the past month had seemed to drag on all the more when he thought of her. Part of him had hoped she would visit Diagon Alley while he stayed there, but he quickly realised that it would be unlikely.
Most students did their school shopping earlier in the summer, normally shortly after they received their acceptance letters. Harry, meanwhile, had been denied his letter by his relatives for quite some time, resulting in him shopping for his belongings much later. He imagined that Hermione in particular would have dragged her parents shopping at the earliest opportunity, purchasing everything they had needed.
'It doesn't matter though,' Harry thought to himself with a grin, 'I'll be seeing her today anyway...'
For the past month residing in Diagon Alley, Harry had strived to use his time wisely. Taking full advantage of the opportunity he had been granted by travelling back in time, he embarked on a quest of self-improvement that would have Hermione beaming with pride.
Making an early start in preparations for Hogwarts, Harry took to reading through his textbooks and revising the material. While he already knew most of the Hogwarts curriculum, having been through it once before, his memories of the first year course were foggy. The more he read and practiced, however, the fresher it became in his mind. He quickly became comfortable with the first year material, and began to expand his readings to second year and beyond. He intended to be a top student alongside Hermione, aiming to get all O's in the fifth year OWL's.
And while Harry was strengthening his mind, the goblins of Gringotts were helping to strengthen his body. As he had agreed during his first appointment with their healers, Harry returned to the bank daily for treatment to repair the damage to his body. The prescribed potion regimen, while tasting absolutely foul, was gradually undoing the harm his relatives had caused in his earlier years. His form was not as twig-like as it had once been, his body bulking up to look like most boys his age.
As part of the restorative process the healers recommended that Harry begin exercising daily, to bolster his gains from the potions. This fitted in nicely with his self-improvement quest, and he took to it with relish. He normally began each morning with stretches and exercises, after which he jogged up and down Diagon Alley several times. While it was not particularly intensive, as he was limited in what he could do while confined to the Alley, it was a good start to improving his fitness before reaching Hogwarts.
If nothing else, it had worked wonders for his self-esteem and confidence.
Additionally, as promised, Gringotts had made contact with a representative of the Ministry, to help bring charges against Harry's relatives. As it turned out, Ragnok's contact in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was its director, Madam Amelia Bones. In the first week Harry had been staying in Diagon Alley, Ragnok had arranged and invited Harry to a meeting with the stern witch to discuss the situation.
Harry was sat with Ragnok in one of Gringotts' meeting rooms, waiting for Madam Bones to arrive. After a short wait, there was a quick knock at the door, before a goblin showed the severe looking, monocle wearing, red-haired witch inside. As she entered, Harry and Ragnok politely stood, the latter approaching her.
"Madam Bones," Ragnok greeted, "thank you for coming to this meeting." She nodded curtly, offering her hand to the goblin.
"You are most welcome, Director Ragnok," she replied, shaking his hand, before glancing over at Harry, "and this is...?"
"Allow me to introduce His Grace," the goblin continued, "Harry Potter, Duke of Godric's Hollow, Duke of Ravenna, and Earl of Pottere." Her eyes widened in surprise on hearing his name and titles, before she curtseyed.
"Your Grace," Madam Bones greeted, "it is a pleasure to meet you." Harry smiled at the witch and bowed in return.
"The pleasure is mine, Madam Bones," Harry replied, "and while I understand the necessary formality of our introduction, I would appreciate if you could call me Harry..." A small smile curled her lips, and she nodded in assent.
"Very well, Harry," she replied, "then you may call me Amelia." Harry smiled and offered his thanks. With that out of the way, they all took their seats around the meeting table. "Now, I was informed that you wished to report a criminal matter?"
Harry winced in discomfort at that. Sensing that the matter was uncomfortable for him, Madam Bones' gaze softened and she waited for him to speak. Before he could, however, Ragnok stepped in instead.
"Yes, he does," the Director said, "though it is a very sensitive and delicate matter for Harry." He glanced at Harry for a moment, who was still trying to muster his courage, before pulling out and opening a binder and withdrawing a folder. "Perhaps allowing you to see the evidence first would be a good start?"
Harry nodded in agreement, as he desperately tried to fight off the almost crippling anxiety he was feeling about his abuse. Receiving his assent, Ragnok passed the folder over to the stern witch, who began to look through it.
The folder contained the reports of the healers who had treated Harry, describing the harm that had befallen him, along with the pictures they had taken with his agreement. Madam Bones took an initial cursory look through the folder, her face paling as she saw the evidence of his treatment. Slowly but surely, her expression evolved into a look of fury, and she finally closed the folder roughly.
"This...!" The witch growled, before calming herself. "This...harm...was perpetrated by your current guardians?" Seeing her just as angry about his treatment as Ragnok had been, reassured the irrational part of Harry's mind enough for him to reply.
"Y-yes," Harry murmured, "my aunt a-and uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley." The stern witch nodded in understanding. "Though, they are my former guardians now, as I have been emancipated..."
"Yes, by taking on your titles," Madam Bones stated. Removing the monocle from her eye, she rubbed the bridge of her nose wearily. After a moment, she replaced it and focused on him once more. "Your Grace...Harry," she continued, reassuringly, "I am so sorry this has happened to you. I can't undo what these...people, have done to you, but I promise you they will be held to account for it." Hearing the conviction in her voice, his irrational fears began to fully subside.
"Thank you, Amelia," Harry said, smiling weakly. She nodded.
"You are welcome," the witch said, smiling back, before glancing at the folder. "I believe this evidence will make a conviction likely, but a verbal statement about your...treatment, would help make it a certainty."
Hearing this, Harry couldn't repress his shudder, but he nodded his agreement. She quickly produced a notepad and dicta-quill to record his words. After taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, he began to speak.
"My...time with the Dursley family has always been unpleasant." Harry said, unhappily. "For as long as I can remember, they have hurt me. My uncle would beat me with his belt, burn me with cigarettes, and hit me with whatever he could lay his hands on. My cousin delighted in chasing me around our neighbourhood with his friends...they called it 'Harry Hunting'. When they caught me," he paused and took a shuddering breath, "they would beat me black and blue. My aunt never harmed me directly, though she often took a swing at me with a pan." He hesitated.
"It's alright, Harry," Madam Bones encouraged, "take your time." He nodded and took a moment to breathe.
"All my life, I have lived and slept in the cupboard under the stairs," Harry continued, his voice wavering, "even though there was a spare bedroom I could have used." He laughed mirthlessly. "They used it to keep my cousin's old belongings in, rather than let me use it. They made me do chores as soon as I was able to walk, and would beat me should I make a mistake. When I had bursts of what I didn't yet know was accidental magic, my uncle would whip me for my 'freakishness', and lock me in the cupboard without food for days." At this point, Harry's voice trailed off and he let out a sob of misery.
"Harry, I think I have enough," she announced, moving to put the pad away, but hesitated when he shook his head.
"No!" He exclaimed, sniffing loudly. "No, I can keep going."
"Are you sure?" Madam Bones asked, and he nodded shakily. "Alright..."
"I tried to tell a teacher at my Primary School once," Harry told her, "and seeing the bruises, she got social services involved. I finally thought things might change and get better. I...I'm not sure what happened, though, but after a while they just...stopped coming." He didn't say it, but he had a feeling that Dumbledore had been involved with their sudden forgetfulness. "When they did, my uncle beat me within an inch of my life and broke my arm. He threw me into the cupboard, and only let me out when my arm started to smell and fester. Even then, they didn't take me to the hospital, they just did the bare minimum so I wouldn't get infected." With a final shuddering breath, Harry finished his account. "When Rubeus Hagrid came to see me with my acceptance letter, I was the happiest I had been in years...because I knew that I could finally escape from my relatives."
As Harry finally finished speaking, his lowered his gaze and sighed. Having gotten that off of his chest, he did feel slightly...better. Though not by much. Madam Bones, however, was staring down at the dictated statement on her notepad.
"This...this is...Merlin..." Amelia murmured, her eyes reading everything she had just heard over again. Ragnok nodded in agreement.
"Indeed," the goblin remarked.
"I'm not sure I understand, though," the head of the DMLE said after a moment, "if Harry was left with his muggle relatives, who is his magical guardian? Why aren't they involved?"
"His magical guardian is Albus Dumbledore," Ragnok responded grimly, "and as to why he wasn't involved..." The goblin reached into the binder and pulled out another document, handing it to her.
"What is this?"
"A copy of the will of Lord James and Lady Lily Potter," Ragnok explained. Her eyes widened in surprise, before she scanned through the document. As she did so, her face went pale and she gasped.
"Merlin's balls!" Amelia exclaimed in shock. Again, the goblin nodded.
"Now you see why I contacted you, Madam Bones," the Director said, "this couldn't be trusted with anyone else." She nodded.
"I do. Dumbledore ignored and sealed a legally binding will?" Amelia shook her head wearily. "When this gets out, the public outrage will be immense! I can imagine mobs of magicals trying to lynch him and the Dursley's for this..."
"I'm not sure that would be a bad thing..." Ragnok said darkly, and the stern witch couldn't help but agree.
"Me neither," she replied, before focusing back on the young wizard. "Harry, I give you my word that the Dursley's will see justice for their crimes, I assure you." Harry smiled and nodded.
"And Dumbledore?" Ragnok pressed. Madam Bones sighed, and rubbed her eyes tiredly.
"That will be a little more tricky," Amelia replied, regretfully, "he's a political animal, after all. The moment he catches a whiff of this, he will work to protect himself. And no doubt, he will end up coming out smelling of roses..." she sighed, before a determinate look grew over her face. "No one is above the law, however, and certainly not him." Amelia glanced back at Harry. "It might take time, but I will investigate him, and try to get him for this, Harry. You deserve that much."
"Thank you, Amelia," Harry said gratefully. If anyone could find proof and catch the wily headmaster out, it would be Amelia Bones.
"You're welcome, Harry," she replied with a smile. With that, she began to pack all of the evidence into the folder Ragnok had given her. "If that is everything, I'd best get back to work..." before she could stand, the Director raised a clawed hand.
"There is one final matter," Ragnok announced, looking between the two, "that I wished to bring to yours and Harry's attention, Madam Bones." He paused for a moment. "It concerns his godfather, Sirius Orion Black."
"The betrayer of the Potter family?" Amelia questioned, with a frown. "He remains imprisoned in Azkaban. What of him?" Harry took the opportunity to speak.
"After finding out how much had been kept from me," Harry replied, "I asked Ragnok if Gringotts would investigate the individuals named in and witness to the will of my parents." He turned to the goblin. "I take it there has been a development?" Ragnok nodded.
"Indeed," the Director replied, "though I wish the news were better." He retrieved a piece of parchment and glanced at it. "As requested, we investigated Sirius Black and the crimes he supposedly committed..." A stormy look grew across the formidable witch's face.
"Supposedly?" Madam Bones challenged. "That man's crimes are well known, and he was tried and convicted for them..."
"No," Ragnok interrupted, cutting her off, "no, he was not." This took the wind from her sails, and she stared at him in confusion. Pretending to also be confused by this, Harry chimed in again.
"What do you mean, Director?" Harry asked, surprised.
"We have been unable to find any records, details, or any evidence at all of the trial of Sirius Black." Ragnok answered, grimly. "It appears that after he was apprehended, he was immediately taken to Azkaban prison. There was no interview, due process, or trial." Her eyes widened in horror as the goblin spoke.
"No trial?" Madam Bones whispered. "His guilt has never been established?" Ragnok shook his head.
"No, it has not." The Director said. "An innocent man might have been imprisoned in Azkaban for 11 years..."
At the conclusion of that meeting, Harry had been thrilled by how things had turned out. He had gained the help of Madam Bones in punishing his relatives, and established a fledgling relationship whereby he might gain her help in their mission. Not only that, the seeds of doubt had been planted in her mind as to the guilt of Sirius Black. Amelia had said she would confirm this information at the Ministry, and if accurate, would launch an investigation into Harry's godfather. It might not happen immediately, but it would hopefully led to Sirius begin released from prison and acquitted.
Even after only a week spent in Diagon Alley, Harry had made great progress in their mission. As one would imagine, however, his comings and goings from Gringotts and other activities in Diagon Alley had not gone unnoticed by the general public. Before long, word had swept the nation that the Boy Who Lived was staying in Britain's premier magical shopping area, and could be seen in person.
The first week he had stayed in Diagon Alley had been much the same as his arrival to the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid. Once he stepped out of the pub, Harry was quickly beset with the veritable army of well-wishers that had gathered, all desperate to see and thank him for what he and his family had done.
For his part, while still deeply uncomfortable with the level of attention he was getting for something he had done as a baby, Harry was determined to grin and bear it for the time being. He knew that the novelty of meeting him would taper off after a while, and so it would soon quieten down again. The benefits of meeting so many people personally, however, could greatly outweigh his own discomfort.
If people were able to see the real him instead of an unknown person they simply read about in the papers, Harry hoped that the public might be less inclined to believe the mud-slinging that would inevitably come his way, as it had before. It was a tactic straight out of the playbook of people like Albus Dumbledore and Gilderoy Lockhart: being friendly and approachable to your fans, instead of perched high in an ivory tower. He had never tried to guide or direct his acclaim before, so perhaps it was a naive hope, but it was all he had in terms of maintaining good publicity.
He was not simply left to his own devices with the hordes of well-wishers, however. Harry was receiving protection from the crowds from a surprising source. The various business owners in Diagon Alley had quickly become aware that the Boy Who Lived was staying there, and while they knew he would drive up business, they did not realise how important a part Harry would have in their daily lives.
With his new 'self-improvement' mission to begin, Harry made great use of the many resources Diagon Alley had to offer. Preparing to compete with Hermione in the student rankings at Hogwarts, naturally meant that Harry spent an almost abnormal amount of time reading in Flourish and Blotts, much to the delight of the owners.
The polite young man that he was, Harry often helped the owners around the shop, not asking for anything in return except being able to read. Very quickly, Mr Flourish and Mr Blotts came to regard Harry as much a part of the shop as the books themselves. In return for his helpfulness, they allowed him to read as much as he wanted and gave him a substantial discount on books, which Harry appreciated dearly.
Not content with simply reading up in preparation for Hogwarts, Harry also took to practicing his potion making abilities, which naturally necessitated the use of Slug and Jiggers Apothecary for ingredients.
Much like he had in Flourish and Blotts, Harry was quick to offer his help to the often beleaguered Madam Jigger, who was running the shop alone after the death of her partner. Greatly appreciating another pair of hands, she too began to cherish Harry's presence in the Alley. In thanks for his help she treated him as a pseudo apprentice, allowing him to use her potions equipment, teaching him proper procedures for brewing, and even taking him through some of the potions he would make in his first year.
Whether the last business he frequented could be classed as 'self-improvement' is debateable, but no less enjoyable for Harry or the shop owner. After purchasing a book or finishing some work on potions, Harry would often go to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour to read and eat delicious treats.
Mr Fortescue was delighted with Harry's regular presence in his shop, the increased footfall of those people wanting to see him making it worthwhile by itself. As with the other businesses, however, when the shop owner was short-staffed or needed assistance, Harry was always ready to lend a hand for nothing in return. In thanks, Mr Fortescue allowed Harry to remain as long as he liked and gave him free ice cream. Additionally, as an individual knowledgeable in magical history, he talked Harry through his textbooks for the History of Magic class, offering invaluable insights and details.
From Harry's point of view, however, the best part of his time in the Parlour was the free ice cream. As he spent more time in there, Harry could almost hear his eleven year old self cheering for all the ice cream.
The other businesses in Diagon Alley were not free from Harry's company either, all benefitting from the presence of the kind and earnest young man. Very quickly, they grew fond of the Boy Who Lived, and made it their goal to keep him safe and happy while he stayed in the Alley.
Initially, this consisted of a great deal of driving back the throngs of eager and excited magicals, allowing Harry to get where he needed to go. However, as Harry had predicted, interest in his presence began to wane after a week or so, and Diagon Alley quickly quietened down to its usual level of busyness.
Harry smiled as he reminisced about his past month, remembering it as one of the most enjoyable periods of his current or past life. Shaking his head of those distracting thoughts, he finished packing up his belongings. Inspecting every item before he stored it in his new trunk, he snapped the lid shut and looked around his room for anything he might have left behind. As he did so, he reached to push up his glasses, only to hit nothing and poke himself in the face.
He chuckled to himself, not yet used to the fact he was not wearing his spectacles. As another part of his 'self-improvement' mission, Harry had sought a solution to his eye problem. Unfortunately, despite living in a world of magic, there was no quick and easy way to repair damage to eyes, much to Harry's disappointment. He was, however, able to find what was the next best thing.
Among the many shops in Diagon Alley was a magical equivalent of a mundane opticians, Pince and Ney's Ocular Devices. While it offered eye tests and a wide array of spectacles enchanted to varying degrees, it was still not quite what Harry had in mind. He wanted to do away with his glasses entirely, if possible, not just get another pair. However, while talking to the owners, Harry inadvertently brought about a revolution in magical optical technology.
After he'd had his eyes tested, establishing that his glasses were not suitable (not really a surprise, since his relatives had gotten them from a second-hand shop), Harry questioned the possibility of a magical equivalent of contact lenses. Upon being met with utter confusion, Harry proceeded to explain what they were to the amazed opticians.
To Harry's surprise, Mr Pince thanked him for the suggestion, and quickly closed the shop so he could venture into the mundane world. After a week of the shop remaining closed to business, Harry was eagerly asked to return by the owners, and presented with a set of extremely thin, circular glass lenses. Not content with simply copying the mundane version, Mr Pince and Madam Ney had improved them, enchanting the lenses to not irritate the eye, and never move from the correct position.
And just like that, Harry had accidentally brought prescription contact lenses to the magical world.
In thanks for the initial idea which was sure to make them a lot of galleons, the opticians insisted on giving Harry a percentage from their sales, despite his assurance that it was unnecessary. Harry had directed them to speak with Gringotts, who were currently in negotiations with the pair. As a nice plus, he got his contacts for free.
As he had finished packing his belongings, Harry put on his coat and Stetson hat and carried his trunk and owl cage down the stairs. Not wanting to keep Hedwig cooped up on the journey to Scotland, Harry had let her fly ahead to meet him there.
After getting downstairs, Harry was surprised as many of the shop owners from the Alley had come to see him off. Misters Flourish, Blott, Fortescue, Pince, and Madams Malkin, Jigger, and Ney stood waiting for him, smiling warmly. After an exchange of hugs and handshakes from those who had become accustomed to his presence, Mr Flourish offered to escort Harry and help him get to the station.
"I appreciate the thought, sir," Harry began, "but I wouldn't want to be a bother..." The shop owner waved his hand dismissively and smiled.
"Nonsense, my dear boy!" Mr Flourish exclaimed jovially, a bright smile on his face. "After all you have done for us this summer, it is the least I can do."
Harry grinned in return and thanked him. With a short flick of his wand, Mr Flourish shrunk his trunk and cage before placing them into his pocket. After one last round of goodbyes from the denizens of Diagon Alley, Harry and his escort approached the fireplace and one by one, Flooed to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
The Floo network was the normal way most magical families took their children to the platform. Many pureblood and halfblood students had never even seen the muggle part of the station. It was more convenient to use the Floo and avoid Kings Cross entirely. And this was something Harry dearly wanted to do, to avoid one of Dumbledore's first traps: the Weasley family.
On his arrival to Kings Cross the first time around, Harry hadn't known how to get onto the platform, as Hagrid had neglected to tell him when handing over his ticket. His Uncle Vernon had thought the entire thing a joke, laughing nastily as he left at the thought Harry would be stranded looking for a non-existent platform and train.
And so Harry had been left alone, with no one to turn to. He was completely out of his depth and afraid. And then, 'as if by magic', Harry had overhead someone loudly saying something he recognised nearby.
"– packed with muggles, of course – "
And that had been it. The woman who had spoken the magical word (who he would soon know as Molly Weasley) was moving towards the platform with five children, all with trunks and one with an owl. And naturally, hoping they were indeed magical, and feeling so scared and completely out of his depth, he had followed them.
"Now what's the platform number?" Molly asked.
"Nine and Three Quarters!" Squealed a young Ginny.
That had confirmed it. They were magicals! They could help him get onto the platform and to school! And so he had approached them, hoping that they would help him.
"Hullo, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."
And just like that, he had been introduced to the Weasley family. Of course, he had never taken the time to properly consider that moment after he had learnt more about the magical world. If he had, he might have questioned why the matriarch of a magical pureblood family had been using magical terminology in the muggle world, or why they had elected to use the muggleborn entrance to the platform instead of using the Floo.
Still, despite the suspiciousness of Molly Weasley's actions, those questions could have had perfectly innocent answers.
However, after his return to the past, Harry knew the truth. The entire situation had been engineered by Albus Dumbledore. His machinations tied a timid, frightened orphan starved of love, to a very large and very caring family firmly under his control. His heart twisted as he thought of the Weasley family's betrayal, and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.
Shaking his head of those thoughts, Harry stepped from one of the platform's fireplaces and walked towards the Hogwarts Express. The scarlet steam engine gleamed brightly before him, and he could not help but smile as a wave of nostalgia washed over him.
Following close behind, Mr Flourish returned Harry's trunk and cage to their original sizes and helped place them into an empty compartment near the back of the train. After receiving a hug from the shop owner and promising to write to them regularly, Mr Flourish departed with a cheery wave. As he flopped down into his seat, Harry smiled and let out a long sigh. So far, so good.
By using the Floo to get to the platform, Harry had ended up being 15 minutes early for the Express' scheduled departure at 11:00 AM. Realising that he would inevitably soon be interrupted by Draco or Ron, he pulled his hat over his eyes leaned back and snoozed. He was tempted to search the train for Hermione, but his fear of her not remembering their past life stopped him from acting.
Whether or not she would remember him still worried him deeply, even though there was little he could do about it. It may have been a little cowardly, but he wanted to put off finding out the truth as long as possible. Before he could muse anymore on the matter, the decision was taken out of his hands by a familiar voice.
"Excuse me," a girl asked, "have you seen a toad at all? A boy named Neville has lost one."
Harry tilted his hat back and immediately looked, meeting the beautiful brown eyes of the girl he had missed for a month. His heart soared. While he desperately wanted to engulf Hermione in a tight embrace, he firmly clamped down on his emotions. From the moment he had awoken in the past, he had agonised over whether she had successfully made the journey back with him.
He had no way to know if his Hermione was with him until he spoke with her. If she didn't remember and he was to suddenly and excitedly greet her as if they had been friends for years, he would look like a lunatic. All that would do was push her away, and if that happened, it would destroy him.
Instead of acting on his first impulse to overreact to her presence, Harry settled for smiling warmly at his old friend.
"Sorry, I'm afraid I haven't." He replied apologetically. "I've been having a kip, so I haven't seen much." Hermione smiled back and his heart cart-wheeled in his chest.
"Oh well, thanks anyway," she replied. "He was struggling to find it by himself, so I offered to help. I've been down this carriage once already, and no one has seen it. How it would get from one carriage to another, I have no idea." She huffed jokingly. "I wonder if magical toads can teleport..." Harry chuckled.
"Well, who knows?" Harry retorted. "Maybe they can! It's a world of magic after all, I'm sure there are stranger things than teleporting toads!" They both shared a laugh at that.
"You might be right," Hermione replied brightly. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself." She stuck out her hand. "My name is Hermione, what's yours?"
The moment the question left her lips, Harry's heart sank to his shoes. Hermione didn't remember him. He had thought that his fear and anxiety over her coming back with him were irrational and unfounded. How could she have not made it back with him? Amanda had promised them both. Trying not to let his disappointment show, he took her hand and shook it firmly.
"It's nice to meet you Hermione," Harry replied, "my name is Harry. Harry Potter."
The moment he spoke his name, a gasp escaped Hermione's lips and her hand clamped down on his tightly. Her whole body seemed to freeze as she stared at him, wide-eyed and in shock. After a moment of disbelieved staring, she swallowed a lump in her throat and cleared her throat.
"Sorry," Hermione squeaked, "run that by me again?" Her odd reaction to his name lit a flame of hope in his chest, and his smile grew stronger.
"My name is Harry Potter..." Harry repeated, daring to believe. Her eyes, if it was possible, grew wider, and a smile slowly crept across her face.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered. "Is it really you? Oh, please tell me you remember me?"
With that final question, Harry's heart exploded with joy. Letting loose a cry of celebration, he swept Hermione into his arms and spun her around him. As she too reached the same conclusion, she too cried out in delight and held him back just as tightly. As he finally returned her to the floor, they looked into the others eyes and embraced.
"I-I was afraid y-you wouldn't remember, Hermione..." Harry laughed tearfully.
"So was I," Hermione exclaimed, pressing her cheek against his, "I've been fretting over it for weeks! Had to restrain myself from marching over to the Dursley's to find you..." He chuckled in response.
"Just as well you didn't," Harry replied, "I've been staying in Diagon Alley..." Finally, they broke apart and looked at the other. "I've missed you so much..." he murmured, and she smiled tenderly.
"Same here," she replied.
Slowly, they leant forwards until their lips met and they gently kissed. As it had when they had kissed over a devastated battlefield, a bright white sphere of light enveloped the pair and filled the compartment, signifying the soul bond. It was an embrace of relief and heartfelt longing. Harry and Hermione clung to each other tightly, not wanting to let go of each other first. After a time, however, the light faded away and they broke apart.
"I love you, Harry." Hermione said warmly. Harry grinned in response.