“This time,” Harry said with quiet determination, “Sirius isn’t going through the Veil.”
His voice hardened.
“And Rita Skeeter isn’t going to spend another year dragging my name—or either of yours—through the mud in the Prophet and Witch Weekly.”
Hermione nodded immediately.
“So we’re not sitting around waiting for Professor Dumbledore to eventually decide to handle things?”
Harry released a tired sigh.
“We already know he won’t.”
A shadow crossed Hermione’s face.
“I know.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Daphne finally broke the silence.
“My parents never trusted Dumbledore.”
Both Gryffindors turned toward her.
“He isn’t evil,” she continued carefully.
“But he always has plans within plans. Schemes within schemes. He’s constantly moving pieces around a board only he can see.”
She folded her arms.
“And he almost never tells anyone what game he’s actually playing.”
Harry grimaced.
“That sounds about right.”
He leaned back against the seat.
“John told me something important.”
Both girls focused on him.
“Dumbledore has to die.”
Hermione winced.
Even knowing the future, hearing it stated so bluntly wasn’t easy.
“The ring Horcrux,” Harry continued.
“For everything to happen correctly, he still needs to go after it no later than June next year.”
Daphne studied him carefully.
“And you’re alright with that?”
Harry was silent for several moments.
Finally, he nodded.
“Honestly?”
A hard edge entered his voice.
“Yes.”
His expression darkened.
“In fact, I’d be perfectly happy encouraging him to go after it sooner.”
The compartment grew quiet again.
Eventually Harry shook himself out of his thoughts.
“By that point, though, most of the Horcruxes should already be gone.”
“Which ones remain?” Daphne asked.
“The ring.”
Harry paused.
“And Nagini.”
Daphne frowned.
“The snake?”
Hermione nodded.
“Voldemort’s familiar.”
Her expression became thoughtful.
“The huge black-and-green one.”
Harry nodded.
“Nagini became a Horcrux after Voldemort murdered Bertha Jorkins.”
Hermione immediately picked up the thread.
“Which means she’s already a Horcrux now.”
Daphne’s expression darkened.
“A living Horcrux.”
“Unfortunately.”
Harry frowned as a memory surfaced.
“Wait.”
The girls looked at him.
“I remember something.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Nagini was sent to the Ministry alone.”
Hermione immediately became interested.
“When?”
“To scout the Department of Mysteries.”
Harry rubbed his chin.
“She attacked Arthur Weasley.”
Hermione instantly fell into deep thought.
Harry recognized the expression immediately.
The lip-biting.
The distant stare.
The furious mental calculations.
Several moments later, her eyes widened.
“December eighteenth.”
Harry blinked.
“What?”
“It happened late at night on December eighteenth.”
She looked genuinely startled.
“I remember the exact date.”
Then she frowned.
“How do I remember the exact date?”
Daphne smiled knowingly.
“Occlumency.”
Hermione looked at her.
“The future memories are organized now. They’re no longer buried beneath years of emotional trauma and confusion.”
Daphne tapped her temple.
“Your mind is working more efficiently.”
Hermione considered that for a moment before slowly nodding.
“That actually makes sense.”
Harry leaned forward.
“Can either of you think of another time Nagini is separated from Voldemort?”
The two girls thought about it.
Eventually Hermione shook her head.
“No.”
Daphne looked equally frustrated.
“I can’t think of anything either.”
Harry sighed.
One opportunity wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.
Daphne shifted topics.
“What about secondary objectives?”
Harry answered instantly.
“Luna.”
Both girls looked at him.
“The bullying.”
Daphne blinked.
“What bullying?”
Hermione’s expression immediately soured.
“Oh.”
Harry could already tell she remembered.
“They’ve been tormenting her for years.”
Daphne sat upright.
“What do they do?”
Harry’s jaw tightened.
“They steal her belongings.”
The more he spoke, the angrier he became.
“They hide her clothes.”
“They sabotage her homework.”
“They lock her out of Ravenclaw Tower.”
“They mock her constantly.”
Hermione looked equally upset.
“Because she doesn’t fit their idea of normal.”
For several seconds, Daphne simply stared at them.
Then she shook her head.
“No.”
Her voice carried an icy certainty.
“No, absolutely not.”
Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance.
Daphne leaned forward.
“We fix that.”
Hermione nodded immediately.
“Agreed.”
Harry couldn’t help smiling.
“Alright.”
Then his smile faded.
“How?”
Daphne shrugged.
“We’ll figure it out.”
She spoke with complete confidence.
“We don’t need every answer today.”
Harry considered that before nodding.
She was right.
One problem at a time.
The conversation continued for nearly another hour.
Plans were refined.
Timelines discussed.
Memories compared.
More importantly, the three of them slowly began getting to know one another beyond the shared memories of another life.
Eventually Hermione glanced toward the window.
The fading light outside caught her attention.
“We should get changed.”
She stood.
“We’ll be arriving soon.”
Harry nodded and rose from his seat.
“I’ll wait outside.”
He started toward the compartment door.
Then stopped.
Behind him, Daphne and Hermione exchanged a look.
Something silently passed between them.
Some form of agreement.
“Harry.”
He turned.
Daphne gestured toward the seat.
“Stay.”
He blinked.
“You want me to change first?”
Hermione fought back a smile.
“No.”
The realization hit him.
Hard.
His eyes widened.
Then widened further.
A bright blush spread across his face.
“You mean…”
His voice cracked.
“You want me to stay while you change?”
Hermione’s grin became positively wicked.
“We are going to be married, Harry.”
The blush deepened.
“The three of us.”
Harry looked as though he desperately wanted to leap from the moving train.
“B-but…”
He pointed vaguely.
Then gestured helplessly.
Then pointed again.
Neither girl helped.
Daphne finally took pity on him.
“If it makes you feel better, you can face the door.”
Harry immediately accepted the compromise.
A second later he was standing rigidly with his back toward them.
Eyes firmly fixed on the compartment entrance.
He did not move.
He barely breathed.
Behind him came the rustle of fabric.
The occasional muffled laugh.
Harry concentrated very hard on pretending he was completely alone.
Several minutes later, Hermione finally announced,
“We’re done.”
Turning around, Harry found both girls fully dressed in their Hogwarts uniforms.
Far too much.
“Your turn,” Hermione said.
Harry froze.
He glanced at them.
Then at his robes.
Then back at them.
“You’re not going to… um…”
He made a vague rotating gesture.
“Turn around?”
Daphne smirked.
“Do you want us to?”
Harry’s face immediately turned scarlet again.
For several seconds he appeared incapable of producing coherent speech.
“Yes.”
Pause.
“No.”
Pause.
“I mean—”
Another pause.
“Maybe?”
The girls looked thoroughly entertained.
Harry closed his eyes.
Took a deep breath.
Then another.
And another.
Finally, he muttered,
“It’s fine.”
Mostly to himself.
Not them.
Definitely not them.
Turning slightly away, he began changing.
First his shirt.
Then his tie.
The entire time he repeated the same thought over and over.
They’re not watching.
They’re not watching.
They’re definitely not watching.
Unfortunately, he knew they absolutely were.
His shoes came off.
Then his socks.
Then came the moment he had been dreading.
Harry swallowed.
Undid his belt.
And let his oversized trousers fall.
The fact that they were so ridiculously large helped somewhat.
At least he didn’t need to undo the button.
Or the zip.
Quickly pulling on his school trousers, he fastened them and threaded his belt through the loops.
All while stubbornly maintaining his increasingly desperate mantra.
You’re alone.
They’re not here.
Nobody is looking.
Several seconds later, he finally secured the belt.
Relief washed over him.
Victory.
He had survived.
Gathering his discarded clothes, he tossed them onto the nearby seat before sitting down to put his socks and shoes back on.
Unfortunately, that required looking toward the girls.
Both were smiling.
Neither looked remotely embarrassed.
Hermione’s cheeks were slightly pink.
“I didn’t realize you preferred boxers.”
Harry nearly dropped a shoe.
Daphne nodded thoughtfully.
“I think they suit him.”
Harry’s brain stopped functioning.
Again.
A moment later, he concentrated with all his might on tying his shoelaces.
“Right,” he muttered.
“Good to know.”
The girls giggled.
Harry decided not to acknowledge that.
Once fully dressed, he stood and pulled on his robes.
Then spread his arms.
“Well?”
Daphne immediately answered.
“You look like a Gryffindor.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“You look very handsome, Harry.”
His ears immediately turned red.
“But,” she continued, stepping forward, “your tie is a disaster.”
Harry groaned.
Hermione adjusted it properly.
“There.”
Much better.”
Harry looked down at their discarded Muggle clothes.
“We still need to get those back to our trunks.”
“Leave that to me.”
Daphne pulled out her wand.
With several practiced flicks, all three piles shrank to miniature size.
She scooped them up effortlessly and slipped them into a pocket.
“There.”
Harry stared.
“That’s ridiculously convenient.”
Daphne smiled smugly.
“One of the advantages of being prepared.”
Hermione laughed.
And for the first time since waking up in the past, all three felt something that had been painfully absent from their previous lives.
Hope.