5.A New Beginning

1st of September

Harry’s shirt was soaked, beads of sweat ran down his brow, and if someone looked at him, they would have thought that he had swum with his clothes on. His mouth stayed shut, the yew wand in his hand swished and flicked, and he tried to push all his intent and focus into levitating the book before him.

It did not work.

He tried again and again until he was gasping for breath as if he had run a marathon. In all honesty, it was not far off since he had gone for a long and exhausting jog at the crack of dawn and has been relentlessly trying to get a grasp on his chantless casting since.

Sadly, it was even harder than before. First and Second-year magic came easily enough to him, but most of the Third-year curriculum was beyond him now, and the spells he could do were finicky and often failed, but less so with more practice. He had never had problems like this before, but then again, he did not get to focus heavily on study and practice until the Second Year.

His magic was too unruly, and, according to On Magic, it would take time and extensive practice for it to settle down. After perusing Hitwizard’s Guide to Practical Combat and some other books he had bought, Harry came to the conclusion that to entirely discard incantations and wand motions, you had to have a nearly perfect grasp on will, intent, and control, coupled with a mind-numbing amount of practice, similar to what he knew before. So, once he hit a bottleneck in the spells he could cast, he focused on control, increasing his magical reserves and the mind-numbing amount of exercise. While retraining his mastery of silent casting seemed to be a titanic endeavour because of his young age and growing magic, it was simply an advantage Harry could not afford to discard.

A beeping sound disrupted his focus, making him stop and glance at his watch atop the table. He had bought a water-proof one this time, lest it stopped working again after a dip in the great lake. A tired sigh tore from his mouth; it was half past eight, and it was time to get ready.

He went to the small bathroom, placed his wand and holster to the side, discarded his damp and sweaty clothes in the basket, and entered the small tub. The warm water soothed his sore body and left him feeling invigorated. The first days of his routine were hell and always left him tired and sluggish, but the results finally started to show halfway into August. The feeling of weakness was gone, and he was no longer as quickly tired, both in body and magic, despite pushing himself harder and harder.

There was little time to dally, so Harry quickly scrubbed himself squeaky clean. As he left the tub, his eyes settled on the foggy mirror. While his body was still thin, it was no longer skinny but wiry and tough. He had filled in some – Harry could no longer count his ribs as easily. The daily jogging and walks outside had given his formerly pasty skin a light bronze hue on his arms and face.

“Looking hot, boy!” his reflection in the mirror threw him a wink, making Harry groan.

Once he dried his hands on the towel, he grabbed his wand and dried his body before washing, cleaning, and drying his dirty clothes with a few nifty household charms. In one of his walks through the Alley, he bought ‘Helicent’s Household Charms’ to expand his repertoire, which had proved invaluable, especially since he could freely use magic to deal with the usually annoying daily chores.

Despite the initial harshness of the self-imposed routine, Harry couldn’t remember ever feeling so calm and peaceful. While many issues were looming on the horizon, he freely walked in Diagon Alley and muggle London without being gawked at or recognised, much to his relief. Without the glasses and the scar, his appearance did not garner more than a few wayward glances. It felt liberating to be just another face in the crowd.

As he returned to his room, Hedwig flew in through the open window, a sizeable rat in her claws. Its carcass was red with blood, and a significant chunk was missing from its neck. His snowy owl hooted in a challenge at Nyx, who ignored her and continued lazily basking in the morning sun without a care.

Harry sighed at those two. Hedwig was still the same as before, albeit more savage and proud. Far more vicious, making him… suspect how she had ended in Malone’s Malicious Monsters in Knockturn. While still friendly with him, her pecks would draw blood when the snowy owl got angry. Whenever she went hunting, she would bring back her heavily mauled prey to show off as a trophy. To Harry’s chagrin, he had to stop Hedwig from eating Nyx when they first met until he somehow explained that the snake was not food but a companion. Suffice it to say, the black snake still held a grudge and had decided to pretend the feathery predator did not exist, but he could at least leave them alone in the room and be confident that he’ll find both alive and well later.

He finished packing and looked at the watch. It was just passing nine o’clock, and Harry still had time to get a generous breakfast.

Hedwig had just finished devouring her bloody catch, so he waved his wand and muttered a scourgify to clean up the fresh blood, painting the bottom of her perch red. She flapped her wings, and Harry felt claws sinking into his flesh as Hedwig landed on his right shoulder.

Great, another shirt ruined.

“Sstupid white feathersss,” Nyx hissed from the side, eliciting a challenging hoot from Hedwig.

“Don’t bicker!” Harry warned sharply, then turned to the snake. “No fighting.” Thankfully they returned to ignoring each other again, so he looked at Hedwig. “Girl, do you want to fly to Hogwarts now or take the train with me?”

The owl stared at him with her yellow eyes, hooted, and flew out the window. Harry removed his ruined shirt and stared into the torn places with his yew wand in his grasp.

“Reparo.”

It mended well enough, but he knew that using the repairing charm repeatedly would quickly wear down the fabric, and it was less effective with each subsequent use. Harry then looked to inspect his right shoulder and only saw a few deep marks where Hedwig’s claws had landed. Thankfully, she had not drawn blood this time.

Suddenly remembering that there was no time to dally, he put his shirt back on, tossed a dark-blue sweater over his shoulder and turned to Nyx, looking at him attentively with her pitch-black eyes. His snake had barely grown an inch and a half last month.

He gently scratched the soft scales underneath her jaw, and she contentedly closed her eyes.

“Do you want to stay in the vivarium or sleep in the sleeve?”

“Ssssleeve!” Was the immediate reply, as the vivarium simply couldn’t compare, despite being enchanted to be perfect for snakes.

“Is there anything wrong with the vivarium? Is it not warm enough?” He couldn’t help but worry. According to ‘How to raise your snake‘, a book from Flourish and Blotts, human skin was not warm enough to provide enough heat to snakes, yet Nyx’s favourite resting place was his forearm.

“Warmth good,” she hissed as she coiled around his wrist. “But box tiny and your magic better!”

Nyx’s reply left him stunned for a moment. But in hindsight, he should have expected this, as his new familiar was not a regular snake at all. He had to either buy a bigger vivarium or research into expansion charms, which were, unfortunately, heavily regulated if he remembered correctly. Not that he could cast something so complex while his magic was still unstable. A sigh tore out from his lips, and he looked at the watch before placing the vivarium into the expanded trunk. Almost half past nine, so there was still time for breakfast.

“Not a sound, or I’ll leave you in the box,” he warned Nyx, who lightly squeezed his forearm in acknowledgement.

With a flick of his wrist, he murmured the featherweight charm on his two trunks. He shrunk his Hogwarts trunk and placed it in his pocket. On the other hand, his library trunk had an undetectable extension charm that greatly expanded the insides and could not be shrunken. Reducing the size of an object with extended space simply did not work for some reason. Harry locked the door after leaving the room and headed downstairs towards the pub proper, dragging his trunk behind.

“Hello, Tom,” he greeted as he reached the counter and placed the key to his room on the polished, darkened bar. He had already paid for his stay long ago.

“It’s time for ya to leave, eh, lad?” The old man sighed while he pocketed the key. “Want something solid to fill yer belly before departing for Hogwarts? I got some beef stew ready this mornin’.”

His stomach greedily groaned when he recalled that you could only buy desserts on the Hogwarts Express.

“I’ll take a double portion,” Harry ordered before looking at the board on the wall behind the counter, where all the prices were written with white chalk.

He left two sickles on the counter as Tom disappeared behind a red door, where Harry suspected the kitchen was.

The pub was now rather bustling compared to the earlier morning, and half the tables seemed to be taken, so, after looking around, Harry headed towards the nearest empty table.

There were a few familiar faces in the crowd, regulars at the Leaky that Harry had seen before but did not know their names, aside from Mungundus Fletcher, the dodgy thief quietly speaking with a mangy-looking wizard at the darkest corner.

Shortly after he sat down, Tom brought two generous servings on a polished oaken platter. The hearty scent of beef and spices alluringly wafted out of the steaming bowls, making his stomach grumble with anticipation. But there were two round packages wrapped in brown paper above a simple bag and the stew.

“Here ya go, lad,” the old man responded with his toothless smile.

“What’s the package, Tom?” Harry asked warily.

“Made you some chicken and cheese sandwich for the train.”

“Thank you,” Harry smiled. “How much do I owe you for it?”

“Oh no, no, Mr Creevy. There’s no need to pay; this one’s on me,” the old proprietor energetically waved away his concerns. “Ya’ve been a very good patron for nearly a month here, and it was a pleasure to have ya. Can’t let a good strapping lad like ya stay hungry or stuff yourself with those sweets on the Express. ‘Tis the least an old man like me can do.”

Harry stood there, stunned, as the old man hunched away with a smile. Words eluded him at that moment, but gratitude swelled in his heart. The gesture was so simple, yet it felt so warm. Truth be told, nobody had helped him before out of the goodness of their heart. It had always been friends or close acquaintances. It was a foreign feeling, one that did not feel bad, and Harry would not forget.

His stomach grumbled hungrily at the alluring smell from the platter before him, tearing Harry away from his daze. The stew was thick and heavy, with a generous amount of meat and vegetables. After taking a small sip with his spoon to check if it was too hot to eat, he hungrily began to gobble it all down. A sigh of contentment escaped his lips at the taste, and his mind slowly wandered as he ate.

The last month had been intense. While Harry made significant progress in his personal training, nothing else of interest happened. At least the diary on Occlumency had proven useful, and for the first time in his life, he had made actual improvement in defending his mind without the need for pain as a catalyst.

He had missed the yearly Weasley shopping for school supplies long the chance to nab Pettigrew. After some contemplation, he realised that the Express would not be a good place to get the rat either, so he was content to wait for Hogwarts. His Godfather survived in Azkaban for nearly ten years; a few months more wouldn’t hurt him. If he wanted to stay out of the accursed prison, he should have restrained himself instead of rushing headlong into vengeance with no plan.

Although Harry felt foolish criticising Sirius. He himself wasn’t much better about rushing blindly into danger with little to no plans. This time would be different. He would be running into trouble, prepared with a plan or two!

Aside from that, he did see a handful of familiar but far too young faces. All of them were filled with youthful exuberance, wonder, hope, and excitement, a stark contrast to the doom and gloom he had last seen on the expressions of his fellow students after Voldemort’s return.

That only strengthened his resolve to deal with things alone this time. Let his friends stay happy and innocent; he did not need to burden them with his woes, risking their lives and families in the process.

Once his spoon reached the bottom of the second bowl, he looked at his wristwatch. An hour was left before the Hogwarts Express would depart, and King Cross Station was about twenty minutes by cab. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be early and have a wide range of compartments to pick from instead of the last free one for once.

He nodded gratefully at Tom and walked out of the Leaky, entering the bustling Charing Cross Road. The sun was shyly peeking through a handful of white clouds. As he neared the cab stand, Harry felt jittery inside at attending Hogwarts, as if he was a young and wide-eyed First Year all over again.

Diana Rosemary Taylor groaned with embarrassment as her mother pulled her into a tight embrace and started ruffling her carefully combed hair.

“Mum, we’re in the middle of the station!” She whined pitifully, and her mother finally released her from her grasp. Now her hair was probably a bird’s nest, and her face was as red as a shrimp from all the embarrassment.

Although, even without that show of affection, they would have garnered plenty anyway. Diana’s mother, Emilia, who always refused to look anything but lavish, wore a silver satin gown lined with sapphires on the rims that would not be out of place in a fashion show. Despite being rather short, Emilia was also beautiful enough with her dark eyes and flowing long hair reminiscent of burnished copper to shame most of the models in question. Her father, Henry, was wearing the most expensive black Armani suit money could buy and cut an imposing figure at 6’4 feet, especially with his sharp face and burly frame.

He crouched down to look directly at the eyes.

“Don’t be mad at your mother, kitten,” Henry sighed before planting a kiss on her forehead. “We can still send you to Roedean instead of that hocus-pocus frog school.”

“It’s Hogwarts, Dad,” she sighed and looked around carefully. Thankfully, the onlookers weren’t close enough to hear anything and were content to gawk from a distance, but she lowered her voice to nary a whisper, despite her excitement. “Who wouldn’t want to learn magic?”

“Fine, Diana,” he surrendered with a sigh as his amber eyes were filled with resignation for a moment before hardening. “But remember our promise. You will continue your normal school studies and attend exams in the summer. I will not have my daughter’s education ruined for some childish fantasy. If your results are less than stellar, you can kiss goodbye to that Warts school!”

“Yes, yes, Father,” she agreed dutifully, not bothering to correct him this time.

Challenging her father never ended well for her when he got serious. Regular school was laughably easy and boring; Diana had already covered half of the following year’s curriculum in the past month with little effort. She had looked through her magical school books, which all looked exciting. Just the idea of doing magic felt thrilling.

Henry Taylor’s stern expression finally softened, and he stood up. Emilia was two heads shorter than her husband, creating a rather comical sight when they were beside each other. Diana just hoped that she would inherit some of her father’s height because remaining a midget seemed like a lame prospect.

“Did you have to wear those… clothes, Ana?” Her mother asked, distaste heavy in her voice as she motioned towards Diana’s plain, ordinary jeans and blue shirt.

“Witches and wizards wear different clothes, Mom,” she deflected.

Diana was done wearing posh clothes. The last time she thought she had made a friend, it turned out that the traitor Liz had just befriended her cause she fancied the clothes. Not that she’d ever tell her parents; they would worry too much!

“Plain robes and pointy hats,” her mother scoffed with disdain. “You should have let me design you a fashionable robe to wear. Or at least wear something better than those rags you have on.”

“Stop fretting, sweetheart; our kitten would look perfect in a burlap sack,” her father chimed in and grabbed her mother’s hand. “She has entered her rebellious years. If she’s half as stubborn as you are, the more you push, the more she’ll go the other way.”

Diana’s cheeks reddened again as her mother thoughtfully nodded.

“Hey, don’t talk as if I’m not here!” Her father ignored her protests and instead pulled her mother into a deep, loud kiss, attracting even more attention from the surrounding crowd and making Diana cover her face with a palm. “You two are totally gross. Can’t you do this in your own room?”

“You’ll understand when you grow up, kitten,” her father finally separated from her dazed mother and gave Diana an annoyingly patronising smile.

“I’ll be going now,” she declared, unwilling to stay with her disgustingly mushy parents any longer and turned to the solid brick barrier dividing platforms Nine and Ten, where Professor McGonagall had explained the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to be.

“There’s still half an hour, Ana,” her red-cheeked mother finally gathered her bearings and motioned towards the large clock on one of the pillars. “Why don’t you stay with us some more?”

“Nuh-uh, I’ll go get a good seat on the train,” she declined. Diana definitely had enough of her parents’ shenanigans. She could swear to god that they simply loved embarrassing her in public as much as possible.

“Diana, are you sure your teacher was not pulling your leg?” Her father asked hesitantly as he rubbed his dark stubble. “That’s a solid brick wall if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I’m sure,” she lied, trying to cover her hesitation as she looked at the imposing piece of firm-looking masonry. At that moment, a young boy with a messy mop of black hair and casual clothes, even shorter than she was, dragging a large trunk made of polished oak, simply walked into the wall and disappeared.

“Oh my,” her mother gaped at the sight, and Diana simply stared.

Oddly enough, nobody else seemed to have paid any attention to the boy, nor did anyone question how a child disappeared into a solid wall as if they had seen nothing. She shook her head and decided it was time to go. This time, she would make real friends. Others won’t pretend to get close to her because she wore fancy clothes and had rich parents!

“Bye Mum, bye Dad!” She evaded her mother’s attempt at a hug, cheekily waved at her parents, and dashed towards the wall, grabbing her fancy magical school trunk.

She held her breath and uttered a silent prayer as bricks rapidly approached. Just as she was about to crash into the solid barrier, her eyes instinctively closed, but thankfully, no collision followed. Diana gingerly opened her eyes, only to be met with a fantastic sight.

A scarlet steam locomotive that would perfectly fit the Victorian era stood imposingly. The platform was spacious and wide but less crowded than the rest of King Cross. The scarce crowd consisted of children of various ages and their parents, all dressed in the same queer manner she had encountered in Diagon Alley. Her eyes drank in the colourful array of robes, pointy hats, owls, cats, and even brooms.

The idea of flying on a broom excited and terrified her in equal measure. Everything was so new and exciting!

There was a problem, though.

She carefully looked around and realised she was the shortest person on the platform. Diana suppressed her rising annoyance and made her way through all the hubbub, which included hoots and mewls. Cats were great pets, but the wizard’s obsession with owls was just odd. Surely there was a better way to deliver letters? They had magic!

A giant fireplace near the wall abruptly flared up with green flames making Diana jump, and a pair of older twin girls dressed in green and silver walked out of the fire, followed by greying old woman. It took her a few moments to stop staring, but nobody else on the platform seemed perturbed about the phenomena. Another fireplace flared up in green, and again, a family walked out of it.

Could she learn this flame-teleport thingy too?! This would be so cool!

“Hey, Wood! Did you make Quidditch Captain?” A loud cry sounded nearby, startling Diana out of her musing. She turned around only to gawp at an older black-skinned girl wearing an eye-catching bright red robe.

“That I did, Johnson!” A burly older student wearing dark, sporty clothing returned the yell from afar.

She finally reached the train. This time, Diana would not be the shortest kid in the year! That honour would go to the boy she had seen brave the wall. Maybe he’d want to be her friend?

Unfortunately, she was too short to see who was inside the train cars through the windows, so she had to enter the first car. Fortunately, her super expensive trunk was charmed featherlight and was effortless to lift up the stairs or drag around.

“-Puddlemere will win-“

“-My dad said Felix Fawley will retire-“

“-How was your trip to-“

She tuned out the conversations and quickly peered in every compartment to check.

The first few were almost full, the older students boarding the train and flocking towards them. The more she moved towards the back, the emptier it got.

The minutes ticked by, and there was no trace of the short, dark-haired boy, no matter how many compartments she checked. Doubt slowly began to gnaw at her. Were her eyes faulty? Did she miss him somehow? Or had she remembered wrongly?

She even contemplated joining some of the others who appeared to be her age. But there were few of those, and they didn’t look particularly welcoming. An arrogant-looking blonde boy with two fat goons looked like too much trouble, so she skipped that compartment. Two doors later, a blonde girl with sky-blue eyes gave her a frosty glare before she even attempted to enter, dissuading Diana from joining the group of girls already wearing their black school robes.

Wizards and witches seemed to be far more prickly than even ordinary people!

Maybe she could try to go into one of the empty compartments and hope someone nice joined her?

At the very end of the train, Diana finally saw him, sitting peacefully alone whilst perusing an open book. She hesitated for a moment before decisively knocking softly and pushing the door open.

The tome instantly snapped closed, and she saw that his right hand twitched before freezing, and she found herself looking at a pair of bright yet haunted green eyes. His gaze held such an intensity that she couldn’t help but gulp.

She stood there, hesitant under his intense scrutiny, earlier courage completely forgotten.

The silence stretched as the boy did not say a word either, and it felt like they stood there for ages until Diana finally managed to find her voice again.

“Sorry for intruding! Do you mind… if I sit here?”

Hesitation and apprehension were plainly written on his face, but just as Diana thought he would tell her off, he sighed.

“Be my guest,” he said evenly, opened his book again, and resumed reading.

“Thank you. I’m Diana, Diana Taylor,” she introduced herself before placing her trunk on the luggage rack above and sitting near the window, just across from the boy.

That seemed to grab his attention for a short moment, and she found herself on the receiving end of his intense gaze again.

“Name’s Harry,” he curtly replied before sighing and putting the book away. “There should still be plenty of empty compartments. Why choose mine?”

Diana froze for a moment. What to do? Does she lie or tell the truth? The option of lying was quickly discarded, as Harry seemed to be very sharp.

“Saw you on King’s Cross and decided to find you. You seemed to be a muggle-born like me, wearing normal clothes. Hoped you wouldn’t mind,” the truth tumbled out of her mouth, making her feel bad for imposing on the boy’s peace. What if he was waiting for other friends? “I can move elsewhere if you want?”

Thankfully she managed not to mention anything about height; that would just be rude!

He mulled for a few seconds, and just as her heart sank, his expression finally softened.

“No need. And I’m not exactly a muggle-born, only raised by my muggle aunt in the muggle world,” he provided evenly, but she caught the sour note in his tone.

“What happened to your parents?” Diana found herself asking.

“Killed by a dark wizard when I was a baby,” Harry replied with a shrug.

“Oh, I’m so sorry-“

“Don’t be,” he interrupted. “It’s not like you killed them.”

She felt terrible for her insensitive question. Ugh, damn her and her curiosity… The boy was now gazing through the window at the bustling platform. A pity only a part could be seen from the final compartment.

Thankfully, Harry did not seem very bothered, but she decided not to further inquire about that. Her gaze moved towards the book placed on the side. Ancient Runes Made Easy were the large black letters gracing the front leather-bound cover. She didn’t remember seeing that book on her school list.

Was the boy in front of her an older year? No, he was too short…

“Errr, what’s the book about?” Diana timidly inquired.

“Introduction to the ‘Ancient Runes’,” he supplied. “The train ride is around nine hours, and it was either sleeping or reading.”

“Nine hours!?” God, she had never travelled more than three hours before. This was going to be one long journey. “Ancient Runes? I don’t think I saw such a subject in our list.”

“Indeed. It’s an elective started in the Third Year. I got curious and decided to buy it.”

“You seem pretty knowledgeable about the magical world. Do you know when they’ll come to check the tickets?”

“No need to worry much. The ticks are just so the new students know where the platform is, and when the train departs, nobody actually checks for them on the train.”

She sighed in relief; that was definitely one worry less.

Suddenly, Harry leaned forward, face almost glued to the window. She curiously traced his gaze towards a round-faced plump boy with a mop of sandy hair. An old woman with… a stuffed vulture upon her hat, probably his grandmother, was fretting all over the boy in question before handing him a caged owl. A large group of redheads also invaded the platform at that moment. They all looked nearly the same, the plump mother, along with four boys and a younger girl. The sound of the steam whistle tore through the air, and the remaining students on the platform hurriedly boarded the train.

A few moments later, the Hogwarts Express began to move, and she couldn’t help but feel excited. She was going to learn magic and become a witch!

Diana looked at her friend-to-be, who was forlornly gazing through the window. Maybe he missed his home? She decided that Harry could definitely use a distraction and, if possible, answer some of her questions in the process. The short jaunt with Professor McGonagall through the magical Alley was far from enough to satiate her curiosity.

“Hey, which subject do you think will be the most interesting?”