"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.
"And I love you, Hermione." He replied, before chuckling. "I was a little surprised by your reaction to my name. How come you seemed so surprised to see me?" She huffed playfully and held her hands on her hips.
"Hey, don't blame me," Hermione accused jokingly, "you look completely different! How was I to know you would change your look so quickly?" Feigning hurt from her words, Harry held his hand against his heart and sniffed tearfully.
"Y-you mean, you d-didn't know who I was?" He murmured sadly, giving her a look like a kicked puppy. "Y-you didn't recognise your darling boyfriend?"
Hermione scoffed in reply to his act and tried to look disapprovingly at him. This was spoilt somewhat by the small smile turning up the edges of her mouth, the sight of which made Harry grin in victory. Rolling her eyes, she hesitated for a moment before smirking, and deftly taking his hat from his head.
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, outraged.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Hermione remarked, studying the hat with an amused smile, "I'm pretty sure my darling boyfriend wasn't a cowboy..." Harry huffed at her teasing, before smiling.
"A boy can dream, Hermione..." he replied, with a chuckle. Hermione rolled her eyes in response before putting the hat back on his head at a jaunty angle.
"There you go, Clint," she teased, laughing as he straightened his hat with a grumble. "Why are you wearing a Stetson hat, anyway?"
"Because Stetson hats are cool..." Harry retorted sulkily, letting out a sigh of satisfaction once he finally got the hat into a position he liked.
Chuckling at his pouty reply, Hermione waited until he got his hat right again, before pulling the brim down over his eyes. Harry squawked in indignation, and quickly pulled his hat up so he could see again. Fixing her with a glare, spoilt somewhat by a smile tugging at his lips, she laughed at his reaction before pulling him into a hug.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione apologised teasingly, "I'll leave it alone now." Moving back from him, she appraised him with the hat on and smiled. "You know, it actually does suit you!" He preened at her comment and smiled.
"I know," he said smugly, drawing more laughter from her.
"In all seriousness, though," Hermione said, getting back on track, "how do you look so different? What have you been doing this past month?"
Before explaining, Harry quickly drew his wand and cast a locking spell at the door and the muffliato spell on them both. That done, Harry began to recount exactly what had happened while they had been separated.
As they began to chat, eager to catch up for lost time, the Hogwarts Express whistled shrilly to announce its departure, before the scarlet behemoth rumbled out of the station. As they passed through and left London, they began to pick up speed until they were well on their way. After about ten minutes, Harry had told her all he had done in his productive month.
Hermione was delighted with how much Harry had achieved, in particular with the progress he had made with Gringotts, and his 'self-improvement' mission. She in turn proceeded to tell him about her month, which had been much the same as it had been the first time around. Unfortunately, she lacked the opportunities to do anything more useful than study ahead, which she would have done anyway. She did, however, relish the time she spent with her parents, overjoyed that she had them back with their memories intact.
After they had finished discussing important matters, and simply settled for enjoying the others company, a loud knock on the door brought them out of their reverie. Immediately, they tensed up and looked at the door with trepidation. Having done this before, they knew that there was one of two people on the other side of the door, neither of whom they particularly wanted to see.
"Malfoy or Ron?" Harry asked her. "Who do you think?"
"I can't believe I'm hoping its Malfoy, but its most likely Ron," she replied, her lip curling distaste as she thought of their old friend. Harry nodded in agreement.
Sitting next to each other, Harry removed the charm from the door and it slid open with a quiet click. Much to their displeasure, Hermione's guess was proven correct, as a gangly freckle-faced red head entered the compartment. He looked at them both before smiling nervously.
"Oh. Er, sorry, I thought Harry Potter was in this compartment." Harry's eyes narrowed at their erstwhile friend, before replying.
"Well, no he isn't." Harry replied, desperately trying to keep any anger out of his voice. "And why might you be looking for him?" Ron rolled his eyes and scoffed in reply.
"Oh please, EVERYONE is looking for him!" Ron exclaimed. "Who doesn't want to be friends with the Boy Who Lived? He's famous!"
A cold feeling settled in Harry's chest as he stared at the boy in shock. It was as though he was seeing the real Ron for the first time, and he was horrified. Was this what Ron was really like the first time when Harry wasn't around? So eager to find and befriend the Boy Who Lived for his fame before anyone else?
"Well, I'm not looking for him," Harry replied, keeping the ruse going, "and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want to be friends with someone who was just interested in his fame..."
At that remark, Ron's ears pinked and he flushed the famous Weasley red. Then, much to their surprise, his face contorted into an expression they had never seen on their old friend's face: a sneer worthy of Malfoy.
"And what would you know about Potter?!" Ron demanded angrily. "You're probably just some nobody muggleborn! And why would the Boy Who Lived want to be friends with you?"
That final retort shocked Harry into silence. He had never heard his old friend speak to anyone that way before. He didn't think he was capable of it. He sounded so much like a pureblood supremacist. Hiding his annoyance at him, Harry turned away and looked out of the window, wondering if that was how Ron spoke to people he didn't like away from them the first time around.
Hermione, meanwhile was not annoyed...she was furious. How dare this little weasel speak to her best friend and boyfriend like that? In her mind, she had already put aside all the good memories she had of Ron, focusing on the reality that stood before her. She desperately fought to keep her anger down as the red head turned his gaze to her.
"Hi there," Ron greeted her politely, holding out his hand, "my name's..." Before he could finish speaking, he was cut off by a sharp retort from Hermione.
"I know who you are," she replied coolly, ignoring his outstretched hand.
Harry looked at Hermione in surprise, wondering what on earth she was going to say. She surely wasn't about to lay into him about things from the future, was she? Ron, meanwhile, blinked in shock before smiling curiously.
"Oh yeah?" He chuckled. "Who am I, then?"
"It's obvious." She said coldly, giving him a condescending smirk. "Red hair, freckles, and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley."
Hearing this, Ron's face became as white as a sheet, assuming he was speaking to the child of a blood purist. Harry meanwhile, desperately tried to stop from laughing, realising that she was quoting Draco Malfoy. He must have told her about the encounter with Malfoy, as he was almost certain that she hadn't been there the first time around.
"If you weren't such an imbecile," Hermione remarked bitingly, smirking at Ron, "you would have realised that this is Harry Potter."
Ron's eyes widened and he looked between the two in shock and surprise. Ignoring Ron's reaction, Hermione instead turned to Harry and surreptitiously winked.
"You'll find out soon that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter." She said, continuing her Malfoy re-enactment. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." She threw a mocking look at Ron. "I can help you there." With that, she held out her hand for Harry to shake. Harry looked at her outstretched hand for a moment, before a small smile grew across his face.
"I would like that," Harry said, taking her hand and shaking it lightly. Ron, meanwhile, stared at the two for a moment, before smirking.
"Oh, ha, ha, very funny," Ron chortled, choosing not to believe Hermione, "if that's a joke, it's not very good. There's no way he's the Boy Who Lived! He doesn't even have a scar! He's just a some jumped up muggleborn..." Feeling a surge of anger at his words, Harry turned his stormy gaze on his one time friend.
"You should close your mouth before you succeed in convincing me that you are in fact an imbecile." Harry retorted coldly, and Ron flinched as though struck. "Just to make it completely clear for you, allow me to introduce myself." Standing to his full height, he glared at Ron and showed his family rings. "I am Harry James Potter, Duke of Godric's Hollow, Duke of Ravenna, and Earl of Pottere."
Upon seeing the three very recognisable crests adorning the rings on his hand, Ron paled once more and took an unsteady step back. Realising just how much he had botched his approach of Harry Potter, he steadied himself and tried to see if it could be salvaged.
"I...er...I'm, er, s-sorry..." He stammered, trying to calm himself down, "I-I'm Ron Weasley, pleased to meet you mate."
"Oh, so now you change your tune? You treated me appallingly when you thought I was muggleborn, but not now?" Harry demanded furiously. "I will tell you what I told another who believed pureblood was superior: I put little stock into a person's parentage, and instead judge them on their character, mind, and merit." He glared at Ron. "You have shown yourself to be deficient in all three categories. I am not your 'mate' and I will never be friends with bigots." He drew his wand and flicked the compartment door open. "Now, GET, OUT!" With another flick, Ron tumbled out the door and it slammed shut behind him.
"Wow," Hermione noted appreciatively, watching through the frosted glass as Ron's silhouette scrambled off the floor and ran down the corridor, "that was nicely done..." she paused, before smiling slyly, "...your Grace." Harry snorted, and threw her an amused look.
"Speak for yourself," Harry retorted, "oh prim and proper pureblood heiress!" They both stared at each other silently, before bursting into laughter. As they wiped their eyes of mirthful tears, Harry continued. "I can't believe you remember what Malfoy said the first time around, when you weren't even there to hear it!"
"You told me the story later in our first year," Hermione explained, before tapping her temple with a smile, "and I have a very good memory." Harry chuckled in reply.
"Right, brightest witch of the age," he said, nodding sagely, "almost forgot."
This set off another round of laughter, the duo dearly enjoying being back together once more. Soon enough, they began to chat again about inconsequential matters. However, they were once again rudely interrupted. The door to the compartment slid open, without a knock, and in stepped the other person they had expected: Draco Malfoy. Stood in the doorway, he was flanked by his usual bookends, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
"Is it true?" Draco asked, staring between the two of them. "They are saying all down the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment. So," he said, looking at Harry with great interest, "it's you, is it?" Instead of replying immediately, Harry took off his hat and stood.
"Greetings, Master Malfoy," Harry greeted. Without the hat, Draco immediately recognised the young lord he had met in Madam Malkin's.
"Your grace!" Draco exclaimed, bowing after his momentary hesitation. "Forgive me, your grace, I did not recognise you." With a quick glance back at his friends, and seeing they hadn't bowed, he elbowed them in the ribs. "Your grace, may I introduce Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, heirs to the houses of Crabbe and Goyle." As their brains caught up to the situation, the two wizards hurriedly bowed in turn.
"A pleasure, Masters Goyle and Crabbe," Harry replied with a small bow of his own, "I am Harry James Potter, Duke of Godric's Hollow, Duke of Ravenna, and Earl of Pottere." He looked back to Draco, whose eyes had widened at that revelation. "Yes, Master Malfoy, I am thatHarry Potter."
"I...I see," Draco murmured, deeply shocked by that information.
"You were searching for me, were you not?" Harry asked, trying to hide his smile. "Did you wish to speak with me?" Draco stared at him for a moment, before responding.
"I...I merely wished to...introduce myself to him..." he paused, before hurriedly continuing to speak, "...to you, your grace." He licked his dry lips, before finishing. "I also wished to...befriend him, er, you." Harry nodded.
"I see," Harry responded, "and have you thought more about what I told you the last time we met, Master Malfoy?"
That more than anything seemed to help calm and focus Malfoy. He thought back to the conversation that had sparked a month of self-searching and doubt.
"I put little stock into a person's parentage, Master Malfoy, and instead judge them on their character, mind, and merit. I do not mindlessly condemn someone because they are not from an ancient line, nor do I befriend someone simply because they claim to be pureblood. I value those who think for themselves, and search for truth, instead of parroting lies they have been taught. You wish to be friends, but it remains to be seen if we can be so."
Draco had so desperately wished to befriend the young lord, that he had done as he had been asked: he had searched for the truth. Upon his return to Malfoy Manor, he had searched through the library for any books on the power of pureblood when compared to newblood, and come up short. There were many books on the dogma and philosophy of purebloods, arguing that magic was stronger in pureblood lines. But how did that explain the powerful newbloods of ancient and more recent history?
Lily Evans was a name that quickly sprang to mind.
And so he looked further afield. He visited Diagon Alley to look in the various book shops, he contacted trustworthy friends, and he even asked his father. The answers were poor and unhelpful, particularly those of his father. The elder Malfoy had simply told Draco that magic ran stronger within those of pureblood, but did not explain why. When pressed further, he was told not to question. Newbloods were beneath them. That was all there was to it.
It seemed to be a matter of 'we are superior, because we are superior'.
All Draco could find were these circular arguments, that did nothing but show that the pureblood ideology only existed, because a group of old men perpetuated it. The more he learned, the starker the realisation became: it was all a lie. He had been fed a lie from birth, as had his father, and his father, and so on.
It was then that Draco wished he could forget what he had learned. Like the fabled Emperor realising he was not wearing clothes and was nude, Draco could not escape from the fact that all he had been taught was a lie. And so, when Harry had asked his question, he was once more reminded of his nakedness in belief.
"I..." Draco hesitated, debating what to say, "...I have." Harry nodded.
"And the truth?" Harry pressed. Draco bit his lip, his heart pounding in his chest.
"The truth..." he paused, before sighing wearily, "...believing the lie was easier."
With that, Draco bowed slightly and left the compartment, with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. Harry and Hermione stared at the door in shock and surprise. Slowly, Hermione walked to the door and pushed it shut, before turning to Harry.
"What did you tell him?" Hermione asked, deeply impressed that Harry had managed to elicit such introspection from a person she thought of as a junior death eater. Harry blinked and shrugged his shoulders.
"I just told him to think for himself, and find out the truth about pure and new blood." Harry replied honestly. "I just didn't think he would try, let alone actually find it." They both fell silent for a moment, contemplating Malfoy's reaction as they stared at the now closed compartment door.
"Do you think he will take it to heart?" Hermione questioned, uncertainly.
"I honestly have no idea," Harry replied softly, "but...perhaps. Maybe all it needed was a nudge in the right direction at the right time." He raked his hand through his hair as he thought. "It does make you wonder though, just how much change we could bring..."
"...and how much change we have already brought." Hermione added, Harry nodding in agreement.
It was at this moment that Harry and Hermione began to truly relax, as the two interruptions they had expected had been and gone. Believing it unlikely that they would be disturbed again, the duo were about to discuss a plan of action for the school year. A quiet, almost timid knock at the door quickly halted that conversation. With an annoyed sigh, the two took their seats next to each other once again.
"Bloody hell," Harry chuckled, as they sat themselves down again, "it's starting to feel like Kings Cross at rush hour in here!" Hermione rolled her eyes at his comment and smiled.
"Come in," she called, and both looked to the door.
The compartment door slowly slid open, and a chubby roundish face with a mop of brown hair poked its head around. Despite himself, Harry smiled at the boy he recognised as an old and trusted friend, Neville Longbottom. Gesturing him to enter, Neville shuffled into the compartment proper and closed the door behind him.
"S-sorry for interrupting," Neville murmured, visibly anxious at having barged in, "but I-I was wondering if you h-had seen my..." he paused for a moment, on seeing Hermione, "oh, hullo Hermione! I-I don't suppose you had any luck finding my toad, did you?"
"Sorry Neville," she apologised, "I was still looking for Trevor when I came across Harry," she smiled at her best friend and boyfriend, "he's my best friend, and we haven't seen each other in a while..."
"That's ok," Neville said, offering her a small smile, "t-thank you for your help, anyway." She could see the despondency that he hadn't found his pet yet, and she smiled reassuringly.
"Don't worry Neville, we'll find him," Hermione promised, "he can't have gotten far." At that moment, she realised that Harry and Neville had not been introduced. "Oh, Harry," Hermione said, "you remember I was helping someone look for their toad?" He nodded, and she continued. "Allow me to introduce you to Neville." Harry smiled at Neville and held out his hand.
"It's nice to meet you, Neville..." he paused leadingly before the last name, which Neville helpfully supplied.
"...Longbottom, Neville Longbottom." He replied, meeting the outstretched hand and smiling back nervously. Seeing an opportunity, Harry's eyes widened as if in reaction to his last name.
"Did you say Longbottom?" Harry asked, surprised. Neville frowned in reply and nodded hesitantly. "Is your mum Alice Longbottom?"
"Yes?" He said warily. "Why?" Harry grinned in response.
"Well, my name is Harry, Harry Potter," Neville's eyes widened in shock, but Harry continued speaking, "and about a month ago I went to Gringotts for the first time," Harry explained, "and I found out a lot about my family that had been kept from me. Did you know that your mother, is my godmother?" The boy stared at him for a moment, before a smile slowly started growing across his face.
"W-wow," Neville murmured, "no, I didn't know. I mean, I knew your mother was my godmother, but I didn't know that!" That revelation shocked Harry right back, and his heart stung with the realisation that they had both been cheated out of their godmothers.
"She was?" Harry asked in amazement, and Neville nodded.
"Yeah!" He exclaimed, becoming visibly excited. "You know what this means? You and I are practically family!" Neville beamed, before pulling Harry into a loose hug. Harry grinned and hugged him right back.
"Yeah," Harry replied, delighted with this turn of events, "it's like meeting a long lost brother for the first time!" Both boys chuckled as they smiled madly at the other.
Hermione, meanwhile, observed this introduction and reunion between the two with a wide smile. She was overjoyed for Harry to have found another piece of his family, even if they weren't biologically related. If things had been different for either family, after all, the two boys might have been raised together. She felt saddened that Harry and Neville hadn't had this moment the first time around, losing the potential for a close brotherly bond between the two. Still though, at least they had that chance now.
As the conversation continued, the two godbrothers began to get to know one another, sharing about themselves and catching up for lost time. Over the next hour, Harry and Hermione observed Neville relaxing more and more into the presence of the pair. In the original timeline, it had taken him years to break down the confidence barrier which plagued him. But now, in the presence of Harry and Hermione at least, it seemed to be happening at a more rapid pace.
After an hour or so, Neville was animatedly describing his lovingly tended garden and greenhouse at home to the pair. The excitement in his voice showed that clearly his enjoyment of Herbology had started before Hogwarts. As he spoke, however, they were interrupted once again by someone barging into the compartment.
All of a sudden, the door slammed open and a red headed girl dove inside before slamming it shut again. She stood facing the door for a moment, letting out a weary sigh, before turning around. Upon seeing three bemused faces looking back at her, she jumped and let out a squeak of surprise. Seeing that she was about to dash out again, Harry called out.
"Are you ok?" He asked concernedly. "You don't have to leave, you know? If someone is bothering you, just stay here for a while..."
The red head, who Harry and Hermione recognised as Susan Bones, silently appraised them for a moment before shrugging and taking a seat next to Neville. After some brief introductions, Susan explained why she had run into their compartment so frantically.
"There were some bullies on the train," Susan explained unhappily, "and they just wouldn't leave me alone! And why – because of who my auntie is..." she huffed in annoyance.
"Who is your auntie?" Hermione asked curiously, feigning ignorance.
"Amelia Bones," Susan explained, "she's the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the Ministry." She rolled her eyes. "Of course, what that means for me is that people either want to make friends with me because of her, or harass me because of her." She shrugged. "My auntie gets pretty much the same treatment at work."
"Bloody hell, that's rough," Harry commiserated, "I'm sorry you and your auntie have to deal with that." She nodded in response. "I've met your aunt, and I really like her! She seems to be a real stand up person!" Susan smiled at the compliment, but looked slightly confused.
"You've met her?" Susan asked curiously. "I thought you'd only just rejoined the magical world..." Harry nodded.
"Yeah, that's right," he replied, "it was just last month. She met with me at Gringotts, as I had to speak with her about..." he hesitated, feeling uncomfortable about explaining too much, "pressing charges on some not very nice people."
Susan and Neville nodded, recognising it was a sensitive subject and knowing it was none of their business. While she said nothing, Hermione's expression darkened in anger, knowing full well who Harry was pressing charges on. He had already explained that to her earlier, and she dearly hoped that Madam Bones would throw the book at them. Reaching across to take Harry's hand, she gave it a reassuring squeeze, and he smiled at her gratefully.
With that uncomfortable topic avoided, the foursome began to chat freely with one another about Hogwarts. More specifically, they were soon discussing their impending division into one of the four houses.
"Knowing my luck, I'll probably end up in Hufflepuff." Neville murmured sadly. "That's supposed to be where the dregs end up. I want to be in Gryffindor, like my parents," he added, smiling wistfully, "but I'm not brave enough to get in..."
Upon hearing Neville's miserable response and his low self esteem, Harry just had to say something. Neville was his godbrother after all, and Harry knew full well the impressive person he would grow up to be down the line.
"Neville, you shouldn't be so down on yourself," Harry lightly chided, "I think any of the houses would be lucky to have you." The boy smiled faintly.