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The Hogwarts Express
By firestar

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 18
Summary: Harry has hidden away from the world since the Battle of Hogwarts, but now it's the First of September and Harry is going back to platform 9 3/4 again. How will people react and what will Harry do when the train pulls away from the platform?
Hitcount: Story Total: 5805



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
This is a re-working of the first fanfic I ever wrote (back before DH came out). I decided to re-work it becasue iIliked the scenario, but now it fits with canon. Many thanks, as ever, go to my betas cwarbeck and GinebraWood with a special mention going out to Snape's Sister who was the first person to look at this story. Firestar




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Harry stopped and breathed out slowly...


He'd been dreading this moment since the letters arrived two weeks ago. Steeling himself, he took a step forward through the barrier and onto platform 9¾. The noise was deafening — the platform seemed even more packed than usual. Harry took a moment to look around, breathing in the acrid smell of smoke and coal from the magnificent scarlet engine as it stood, steaming gently, waiting for it's passengers to board.


He looked up as he realized that a hush had fallen over the packed platform. Parents and pupils alike turned to stare at him and those already in the carriages craned to see out of the windows. He waited for their reaction as their stares bore into him. His own breath seemed trapped in his throat.


He wasn't surprised to be attracting this much attention; he was just surprised that there weren't any reporters here. They'd camped out in the little garden in front of Grimmauld Place and had laid siege to The Burrow, bombarding the Weasleys and any other visitors with questions about him and the Battle at every opportunity. After all his years at Hogwarts, he thought he would be used to this kind of attention, but he could feel heat rising in his face and it annoyed him.


Then a soft warm hand slid into his and he turned to look into Ginny’s dark eyes. And all was well again.


“Sorry, couldn’t get past Ron and Hermione... I think they’re stuck to each others faces!” Ginny giggled. She rolled her eyes and then frowned at Harry. “What’s up?”


Then a man standing nearby began to clap. Slowly at first and then faster as more people joined him and the applause grew until it filled the cavernous space. There were whoops and cheers from friends, fellow Gryffindors, the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws. Harry noted, with a little surprise, that even some Slytherins were clapping. He ran his hand through his hair, took another deep breath and with Ginny’s hand in his began to walk toward the train, pushing the trolley in front of him.


Men clapped him on the back or reached for him and shook his hand vigorously. Women hugged him or kissed his cheek - all of them grateful for what he had done. He hadn’t been sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this. He nodded his head and muttered "That's okay" and "Don't mention it" as he and Ginny slowly made their way through the crush.


Pausing for a moment to look over his shoulder, Harry saw that Ron and Hermione were receiving the same attention. Hermione was beaming, her shiny Head Girl badge glinting on her robes, but Ron was blushing deeply. Harry smiled to himself. They deserved it. Without them, the outcome would have been very different.


The train whistle blew a sharp note indicating that it would soon be leaving but the crowd didn't thin. It took an age to push trough the crush and reach the carriages and as they did the whistle blew sharply three times. The clock hanging high above the platform showed that it was already well past 11o'clock and the driver was obviously keen to get away.


Slowly the platform began to clear as pupils boarded the train and parents shouted their goodbyes. Harry made for the nearest door; he grabbed the handle of the trunk on the trolley and hauled it into the carriage, before stepping back down onto the platform.


“There you go...” he said, smiling at Ginny. “You’ve got everything?”


“I think so, yes.” Ginny replied with a small smile. “Hermione made me triple check everything before we left. It’s a bit late now anyway.”


“Okay then,” Harry replied - suddenly at a loss for words.


The Weasleys, and the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, had arranged to take Harry away from Hogwarts as quickly as they could after the Battle, keen to protect him from the press interest that was bound to come, but the Burrow seemed somehow diminished without Fred’s presence in it and the Weasleys’ grief had only served to feed Harry’s own fears that he had somehow still managed to fail them. If only he’d found the final Horcrux sooner; if only there had been a way to stop Voldemort’s assault on the castle...


He’d made his excuses after the funerals. He offered justifications that sounded hollow to his own ears, and fled to Grimmauld Place and Kreacher’s care, but Ron and Hermione and, most importantly, Ginny had followed. Not at all ready to listen to his self deprecation, not ready to let him think he’d failed Fred or any of the others.


Somehow, slowly, life seemed to return to normal. Gradually the grief eased and Grimmauld Place was filled with the comforting smell of food and thumping of Ron’s feet on the stairs. The Daily Prophet was full of talk about Kingsley’s interim Ministry, the Death Eater trials and the re-building of Hogwarts. But for Harry those days were filled with Ginny, her dark eyes, her soft lips and her shining hair.


There was something very comforting about coming downstairs in the morning and finding Ginny in the kitchen, eating a bowl of porridge and reading the paper. The domestication of the scene filled Harry with a warmth that had the beast in his chest purring like a contented kitten. Ginny would look up and smile and pat the chair beside her to let him know he was meant to be in it.


The Hogwarts Owls had delivered letters to all of them, but only Hermione and Ginny had accepted the invitation to return to their studies. Harry had already spoken to Kingsley about joining the Auror Department, though Ron had yet to decide if he was going to join him there or help George at the shop. And so their little sojourn at Grimmauld place came to an end when Harry and Ron escorted their girls to the Hogwarts Express on the first of September.


The train lurched and started to pull away from the platform. Ginny jumped into the empty carriage and turned back to pop her head out of the open the window as Harry closed the door behind her.


“I’ll write,” she said, leaning forward and kissing him softly, but the train was already moving slowly away.


“Don’t go...” Harry half whispered, already all too well aware of how much he was going to miss her.


“It’s not for long,” she replied. “I’ll send you the Hogsmeade dates and I’ll be home for Christmas.”


“But I...” Harry was hurrying to keep up as the train began to move more quickly. “But I...”


“I’ll write,” Ginny repeated, “and I’ll be home again soon. I love you, Harry.”


“But I...” Then Harry seemed to hear what she’d said. “I love you too! I love you Ginny!”


And now he was waving and running to keep up, aware that the end of the platform was coming closer with every step and that Ginny was getting further way. He was laughing with the sheer joy her statement had brought him and crying too, just a little bit, but he stopped at the end of the platform and waved and waved long after Ginny herself had slipped out of view.


“Come on then you soppy git,” Ron said gruffly, slapping Harry on the back and wiping a stray tear from his own cheek. “Kreacher said he was doing beef stew and dumplings for lunch and you wouldn’t want it getting cold now would you?”
Reviews 18
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