How he managed up until this point, he doesn’t know…

--No, wait, yes he does!

He managed because in all his 11 years of teaching, he never had to teach the Potter-spawn.

He knew that this is what he signed up for all those years ago, but he didn’t imagine just how exhausting it would all be. How that boy and his idiotic friends manage to get themselves into life-threatening situations like nobody’s business is beyond him, and honestly, he doesn’t even care to know why, he just wants it to stop. Now he’s stuck protecting this idiot who, if left to his own devices, would probably find and waltz right into some mysterious secret unused classroom in Hogwarts that kills him upon entrance, despite the big, glowing magical words that say specifically not to do that.

There was a time he hoped that the boy would be alright. That he would inherit anything other than his father’s... anything. Just last year he was within these same quarters trying to convince himself that the child he’s risking his very life for wouldn’t be the arrogant ponce he pictured in his mind. That everything would be alright.

He even entertained the notion of him becoming a Slytherin of all things and took great pleasure in imagining the look of horror on Potter’s face beyond the grave if that hat had condemned his beloved progeny to be in the house he oh-so despised, the house of Slimy Snakes. He carried said notion all the way to the Head Table at that thrice-be-damned welcoming feast, only to be reminded why he should never engage in wishful thinking ever again.

Severus interrupted his dramatic inner monologue with an equally-dramatic sigh as he packed the clothes he will take back home with him over the break. He thought of all the wonderful, mundane things he gets to do over the summer. Gardening, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, potion-making… What was he on about again?

Oh. Right-- Of course the brat would end up in Gryffindor, why did he expect anything less? The fourteen seconds it took for him and the other teachers at the table to get a good look at all those bright and wide-eyed dunderheads, he honestly had thought the ghost of James Potter had come to these hallowed halls to finally haunt him after all these years. Oh, yes. Somehow, he had unknowingly invested his own coins into the genetic lottery of the little devil and lost big time. Had he known that this boy were to be an exact replica of his father, he may have reconsidered going to Azkaban after all.

He knew from all the teary-eyed monologues from the old biddies in the staff room that the holy terror took after his father, but this was ridiculous. His looks alone were enough for him to know within the deepest recesses of his soul that the urchin would be in Gryffindor. The divine beings that ruled his fate must be laughing it up right about now over the dramatic irony of it all. James Fucking Potter and that little rat Pettigrew are probably losing their damn minds wherever the hell they are.

So the curse on my life in the form of a little boy strutted on over to the table full of foolhardy lions, just like his father would have done. Yes, it’s all clear in his mind now. The ghost of Potter the elder did not manifest in the hall directly--Oh no, that would have been too easy. His imprint is all over the little shit. The way he glares at the Slytherin table with disdain. The way he tucks into his dinner like he doesn’t get perfectly good food at home, the ungrateful brat. Spoiled, just like his father was. The way Minerva glowed as she prattles on about the wonderful new addition to her house, the son of her two favorite students. Just like his father, he will trounce along these halls without a care in the world, act like he can do whatever he wants. And by the way that Albus’ blue eyes twinkled with pride when the gray accent of his robes melted into bright reds and glimmering golds, he might be allowed to do exactly that. He’ll bully and pester innocent bystanders and get away with a mere slap on the wrist for ‘taking his fun too far’. Just like his father was.

At the time, he didn’t even realize he was staring at the whelp until he saw them.

Good.

He sneered at his now-barren living space one last time for good measure, and departed into the hallway towards the nearest exit out of the castle. He trudged along the hall where he unfortunately encountered Minerva and Pomona. Unfortunately, before he could slip away and make his hasty exit, they saw him.

The women fastened him with a stern look that instantly transported him from being a fellow member of the staff to being a student after getting a particularly bad grade on a test. He knew exactly what they wanted to talk about and this was the one conversation he’d been trying to avoid ever since the students left. If it were anybody else, he would have simply ignored it and moved on. But he knew that these two would corner him again eventually. It wasn’t worth fighting the inevitable.

“Severus, we were just talking about you.” Minerva greeted.

“Oh? Gossiping behind my back, are we?” He quipped, allowing his eyebrow to quirk just a little.

Pomona snorted. “Of course. What sort of old ladies would we be if we didn’t?”

The two of them reveled in the playful atmosphere before Minerva finally acknowledged the metaphorical elephant in the room.
“…Severus, would you care to explain where on Earth Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger got the impression that you were the one planning to take the Stone?”

He sneered. How the hell was he supposed to know what those gremlins were thinking? She must have known what he was thinking because she didn’t let him answer. If he wasn’t a Master Occlumens he would have thought she was using mind magic on him.

“Severus, I know you weren’t on the best of terms with the Potters, but at least give their son a chance. Harry is a bright and kind boy, just like his mother was. Couldn’t you make at least some effort to try and connect with him?” Minerva looked at him with pleading eyes.

He mentally sighed. Why can’t he just go home?

Pomona apparently decided to take this beat of silence to add in her two knuts. “Yes, I see so much of Lily in him. I know how close you two were in schoo--” He cut her off before she could even consider finishing that sentence.
“Do not speak of what you don’t know, Pomona.” He spat out.

No.

Don’t compare that troublemaker to her.

The only thing he took from her were the eyes, seemingly manufactured to torment Severus Snape for the things he’s done.

So just like that, the conversation was over, and he was already walking away from the two. He could faintly make out Minerva calling out for his name over the sound of his own thoughts, but it was too late. He was already out the door and walking towards the apparition point.

Potter this, Potter that. ‘Just give him a chance, Severus! He’s wonderful!’-- My arse! Nobody knows what he’s really like. Nobody knows but me. How many times have they excused his behavior? How many times have they looked the other way when he harasses the Slytherins? How long until someone gets hurt?

And with that thought, Severus Snape apparated from the campus grounds with a resounding crack.

The compartment was pleasantly quiet. It had been an hour since the train departed from Hogwarts, and the excitement at the prospect of finally returning home after a long year of classes and homework has died down. The sound of papers rustling, a boy snoring, and gentle chugging were the only things keeping the noise level from dropping to bone-chilling silence.

On their side of the compartment, Ron’s head lolled against Harry’s shoulder as he dozed off, muttering something about quidditch. Hermione sat across from them, meticulously reviewing through her summer homework. Harry simply looked at them both. what wonderful friends I’ve made, he thought to himself. The first friends he’s ever made were the most spectacular ones he could ever ask for. I can’t believe I lucked out like this. Happily content with the year he’s had, he joins his friend into the land of dreams with a smile on his face.

Another hour passes in this fashion, until he is waken up by a light tapping on his shoulder. It was Hermione, and she looked like she had something on her mind.

“What is it?”

“Harry... I think we should apologize.”

What was she talking about?

He blinked slowly. “Apologize to who?”

She made a weird face at him. “To Professor Snape! Goodness, Harry, don’t tell me that you forgot what we did to him this year!” She declared.

Harry winced. Whatever she’s on about, he completely forgot it. Before he attempted to string together some flimsy excuse to placate her, he was interrupted by the third passenger in the room.

“What are you--” yawn “--two talking about?” The abrupt change in volume must have awoken Ron from his slumber. He sleepily rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter.

“About Professor Snape, and how we should apologize to him.”

“What!? Why? What do we have to apologize to that greasy git for, anyway?”

Hermione puffed up in indignation. “Oh, it’s nothing much, we just accused him of attempted murder, that’s all!”

Ron scrunched his face and scratched his head. “Bloody hell, ‘Mione. I mean, It’s not our fault that he acts like he wants to murder us, anyway.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Harry.“What do you think?”

Harry blinked. “I, er, guess I never... took time to think about it yet...?”

“Well, think about it now. Honestly, he saved your life this year. I think the least you should do is thank him or something!” Hermione sighed. “What am I to do with you two?”

Ron shrugged. “Beats me. Anyway, I don’t think Snape’s the type to even want an apology.”

        “What do you mean?”

“I mean, even if we tried to apologize, he’d probably just give us detention for wasting his time.”

She seemed to consider this point for a second. “…You might be right, actually. He doesn’t seem the type.”

He grinned and leaned back in his seat. “See? We don’t have to do anything, right, Harry?”

Harry ruffled his hair. “Well, To be honest, I don’t think we shouldn't do anything… Hermione is sort of right, you know. We should do something, maybe just not apologize to him directly.”

“Oh, come on! You were supposed to be on my side!”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright, mate.”

Hermione snorted. “You’re impossible, the both of you.”

Ron furrowed his brows. “Right, so... What brilliant plan has the Brightest Witch of her Age come up with?”

She flushed slightly. “I, ah, haven’t come up with that quite yet…”

“Maybe we could give him a gift or something?” Harry offered. Snape seemed like a practical person, maybe a new cauldron or some nice potion ingredient.

Ron disagreed. “That wouldn’t work. It’s too predictable, for starters. Besides, he’s head of Slytherin House, remember? He might assume we’re trying to gain something from him. To do something nice for a Slytherin, you have to think like one too.”        

Another insightful comment from Ron. Harry mused with a smirk. He and Hermione swear that if he just buckled down and did his assignments, his grades would skyrocket. (Not that he knew what a skyrocket was, mind you).

“Alright then, Ron, pray tell,” He lifted his nose to the air and talked with a haughty accent “-what would the esteemed head of the obviously superior Slytherin House want from us?”

Hermione seemed perplexed, but Ron looked like he saw where he was going with this and chortled a bit before doing his best impression of the dour man, scowling and squinting at the both of them. “What I want… is for you two… dunder-heads... to stop… de-stroying my cauldrons.”

Harry and Hermione stared at their friend agape for a moment, before Harry guffawed loudly and Hermione gave a short little huff.

“That’s was not funny!” Her face, however, gave away her mirth.

After this, the conversation derailed into a heated competition between Harry and Ron to see who could do the best Slytherin impression. Ron was the reigning champion with his perfect Snape, but was dethroned by a surprise ambush from Hermione, who they both assumed didn’t want to participate.

“Can she- Can she do that?” Ron managed out between bouts of laughter.

Hermione persisted. “Admit your defeat, you low-brow hellion.”

“H-Hellion?!” He howled. “Alright! I concede!” and the battle was over with soldiers on all sides in stitches..

A gentle knock from the door brought them back to their senses. Harry, being closest, opened it to reveal the trolley lady.

“Anything from the trolley?” She asked.

The group tentatively agreed that they were quite hungry, so Harry ordered a batch of Pumpkin Pasties and Treacle Tarts for him and his friends, and a single Cauldron Cake for himself. They thanked Harry and ate in relative silence before Hermione spoke up.

“Ron, do you really think Professor Snape would be happier if we were smarter in potions?”

“W’ ea’” Ron said while inhaling his tarts.

“What did you say?”

He swallowed the tarts.“Well, yeah.”

She smiled at this.“Maybe that’s what we could do.”

Ron put down his pasties.“Blimey, ‘Mione, you should know not to take my advice for these things!”

 “But you were right, that would be something he’d appreciate, isn’t it?”

“I was joking! Bloody hell, you don’t really think I’m going to waste my time with that stuff, right?”

She looked exasperated by this. “Ron, you’re not wasting your time! What do you lose from this? We get to apologize in a way he might appreciate, and your grades go up, to boot!” She took a deep breath before continuing. “In any case, doing a little extra studying doesn’t really take that much time. It’s just an hour or two of studying every week or so-- I’ll even tutor you both!” She seemed excited at the prospect of sharing her knowledge.

Ron, resigned to his fate, sighed. “Well, whatever Harry does, I know I’ll eventually end up going with it, So…” He sheepishly turned to him.

Harry considered it seriously. Embarrassing as it is, he was interested in potions. He remembered how captivating Snape made it sound the first class. That fascinating speech about bottling fame and brewing glory. How exciting would that be to create something as extraordinarily magical as that? Actually, thinking about it, why hasn’t he picked it up sooner? But then he remembered how awful he felt when he was singled out that very class and frowned.

The look of pure and unadulterated hatred radiating off the man from day one was so intense. What did he do to make Snape so mad at him? Was it that first day in class? Maybe there was some unspoken rule that you should never take notes on the first day of potions? Or maybe it was before then, at the Welcoming Feast. He might have made eye contact with the man, maybe that was seen as rude?

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to teachers disliking him. The Dursleys used to do everything in their power to make Harry the problem child. Probably to paint their little Duddikins in a better light. He thought sardonically. But that was just it. Everything in their power. They don’t have any power here…

…Right?

Yeah, nobody here would listen to them, especially not Snape.

…

…

…

…

…Okay, but like, what if they did--

“--ry? Harry, are you listening?”

“..Yeah, Ron?”

Ron smirked. “You back with us, mate?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I’ve been here the whole time.” Harry joked.

“Right.” He snorted. “So, are you going to do this tutoring thing, or what?”

Hermione cleared her throat. “You know… Don’t have to if you really don’t want to.”

“I… No, I think I do want to. Honest.” Harry decided. “And even if he doesn’t appreciate what we do, it would be pretty fun to see the look on his face when our A’s turn into E’s.” They laughed at this. Ron murmured something about Ravenclaws in Gryffindor clothing but nodded at Hermione.

She beamed. “Excellent! I’ll make sure to buy the textbooks earlier so I can form a plan for next year! You won’t regret it, I promise.”

The boys shared a knowing look with each other and shrugged.

“You haven’t led us astray yet, ‘Mione.” Harry chuckled.

And so, as the Hogwarts Express chugged across the English countryside towards Kings Cross station, the young trio laugh, joke and munch away into the afternoon, putting off any dread over the oncoming school-year until the future.

“Oh, drat! Not now, dammit! Of all the days this useless thing refuses to start, it clearly had to be today!” Mr. Granger grumbled. “…We’re already late, too.”

Jean Granger giggled as her husband stomped over to check what was going on with the engine this time. She watched him disappear behind the car bonnet, after a few clunks, clacks and choice words later, his face emerged to look at her with wide, puppy-dog eyes. She rolled her eyes and got out of the car.

“What’s the problem, Dr. Granger? Can’t fix it?” She smirked at him.

He laughed openly. “Sorry to trouble you, Dr. Granger. I just need a second opinion.”

She snorted. “Yes, I suppose that I’m the one to call when my esteemed colleague can’t figure out when a car battery is dead.”

He looked bemused. “Is it? Huh. What do you know… A slight oversight on my part, I’m afraid.”

“What is the world coming to when our college grads are so ignorant?” She sighed wistfully.

“That’s why I keep you around, darling.” He cackled dramatically before pecking her on the lips. “Now let’s go pick our daughter up from wizard school.”

 --------

Harry stretched his legs and let out a long, tired sigh as soon as he finally stepped foot onto the platform. Truth be told, he’s been dreading this day more than anything. Hogwarts was his first real home, more than Privet Drive ever was, and leaving it tore him up inside in a way that he’s never felt before. You should be grateful the Dursley’s even let you come back. His mind spat out sharply. Yeah, I guess so… Maybe he was just getting too spoiled. Well, there’s a whole summer of humbling to get through, so why not lament while he still can?

“Hey, Harry, ‘Mione, I think I see my family over there…” He gestured over towards the far wall by a few fireplaces “You should come along, mum’s been asking about you two.” Said Ron.

Hermione, however, was preoccupied, standing on the tips of her toes looking through the crowd.

“’Mione?”

“What? Oh, sorry Ron, I was just looking for my parents... They said that they’d be here early…” She looked slightly worried.

Ron just shook his head. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye out. C’mon! You haven’t met them yet, have you?”

“Hm... I guess so...” She contemplated.

He gave her a pleading look.

“Oh… why not?” 

Ron smiled brightly and he took her and Harry by their hands.

“Ron, hey, wait!” Harry protested. “I need to meet my uncle at the nor-- er-- Muggle station.” 

His friends paused in their quest across the platform to look at him oddly.

“Uhh, Harry, your muggle relatives are allowed here, you know?” Hermione told him.

“What? Oh, yeah, well they just... they don’t have the time?” 

Ron shrugged “Well, I guess you’d better-- Augh-- Fred! George!” 

Fred and George were in the process of giving their brother a big, exaggerated hug.

“Aw... is ickle Ronnikins going to introduce us to his widdle girlfriend, Gred?” 

“I feel quite honored, Forge.”

Ron blushed as red as a beet. “This was a mistake, actually. Go! Run! Find your families while you still can!” 

Harry and Hermione would soon regret not heeding Ron’s warning, as The Twins’ eyes glinted with a chaotic energy, and suddenly they were scooped up like toddlers and transported near a familiar clan of red-heads.

“Harry, dear, is that you? Where on earth did you come from...” Molly Weasley scanned him up and down, seemingly looking for injuries. She then noticed Hermione wondering how she got there too. “Oh? And who might you be, sweetie?”

“That’s Hermione, mum.” Said Fred(?).

“Ron’s girlfriend.” Said George(?).

“Boys! Don’t be rude!” She chided. Turning back to Hermione, she smiled brightly. “Hello, dearie, I’m Ron’s mother, Molly. He’s told me so much about you in his letters, so it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Weasley.” Hermione blushed.

“And Harry, it’s great to see you again. I trust you boys had a fun year.” Molly said, knowingly.

“Of course, Mrs. Weasley.” And he meant it.

She pulled them both into a brief hug before scouring the crowd. “Now where is Ron… Ah!” Ron spotted. He gave the twins a hard glare and gave his friends an apologetic glance. Molly ignored this and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. “Oh, There you are, darling. How was your first year at Hogwarts?” She fixed him with one of those looks. “Didn’t get into any trouble, I hope.”

Fred and George unfortunately answered for them in rapid secession.

“Other than battling a Cerberus.--”

“--Besting a patch of Devil’s snare.--”

“--Death defying stunts chasing after flying keys.--”

“--Nearly getting killed by a life-sized wizard’s chess set--”

“--Facing off a troll--”

“--Dealing with deadly poisons--”

“--And fighting against a crazy DADA professor who would have most definitely murdered them, if given the chance.--”

“--Then, no. I don’t think they got into much trouble at all, mum.”

With each consecutive offense listed, Molly’s face went through several stages of shock and horror until ultimately landing on murderous.

Ron looked ready to bolt, but was cut off by his brothers standing behind him. He looked to Harry with terror in his eyes.

“Harry, when I die, please take care of Scabbers for me.” He whimpered. His mum’s face was slightly flushed and she boxed the boy in question on the ear.
 “Ronald Billius Weasley! I was hoping you would be better than this! I did not raise you to be a hooligan!” You could practically see the steam coming from her ears. “It’s one thing to make trouble, but a whole other thing to make life-threatening trouble. But that wasn’t the worst of it, oh Merlin… The worst of it! Not one owl from the school, the headmaster, you, or the twins, or even Percy--!”

“Yes, mother?”
As if summoned, Percy appeared from the crowd with a little red-head girl in tow. Ginny, right? Harry thought idly. Molly seemed to deflate a little upon seeing the family prefect. She let go of Ron’s ear and smiled ominously at her son.

“Percy… Were you aware of Ron’s little adventure this year?”

Percy winced. “Well… I was…”

“...And you saw fit not to inform me of this?”

“T-The school--”

“--Told us nothing, I swear, Dumbledore, fantastic wizard that he is, doesn’t have the decency to even send one letter, no floo calls either!”

Molly Weasley looked at her youngest boy. As she did so, her hell-bent and icy exterior thawed to reveal the picture of vulnerability and concern. Her bottom lip trembled and she pulled Ron into a warm hug.

“Oh…. My baby boy… Don’t you ever do something like that again, do you understand me? Don’t scare your poor ol’ mother like that.”

She kissed his forehead, and Ron blushed something fierce.

“Yeah sure, mum.” He huffed.
This didn’t go unnoticed, as she gently smacked his head for that. Ron wiggled his way out of his mother’s embrace and gave her a lopsided grin.

Molly proceeded to coo and bicker with Ron, while Harry watched this entire exchange feeling like some sort of intruder. This is such an intimate scene, it felt rude to just stand here like this. He turned to Hermione, now on the balls of her feet and biting her lip looking towards the barrier into muggle King’s Cross station. She sighed. Turning to Harry with a worried expression. “Harry, I don’t see my parents yet. It’s been a while, and they should be here by now, they’re never late and--”

Harry put his hand on her shoulder.“Hermione, breathe. They’ll probably be here any minute.”

She took a deep breath.

“... You’re right. I’m sure they’re just stuck in traffic, or something.”

Harry smiled at his friend, and held her hand. She smiled back at him and squeezed it back. They took their trolleys and sauntered closer towards the wall and sat on a nearby bench. Harry noted that while she was trying her best not to show it, his friend was still tense. It was about half an hour since they arrived, so the platform was slightly more empty than it was before. With each passing second, the worry on Hermione’s face became more and more apparent. Her eyes darted around. It was almost like she thought that if she blinked for too long, she would miss her parents’ arrival.

“What do your parents look like? I’ll help you look for them.”

 She gave him a grateful smile and relaxed a little.

“Thank you, Harry.” Hermione continued on to describe what they’d look like.

A few minutes of looking and making small talk later, Ron separated from his family to where they were.

“There you are! You two disappeared on me there… Is everything okay?”

“We’re just looking out for Hermione’s parents.” Harry supplied.

“Oh.” Ron nodded in understanding. “They’ll get here, don’t worry.”

She beamed at him. “Thanks, you two.” The tension she had a few seconds prior was completely gone.

“Ron? There you are--” Molly noticed the two on the bench. “Ah! Hello again, are you still waiting on your family?”

Harry and Hermione nodded.

She gave them a warm smile. “Well, we’ve got to get going, but just know that you two are always welcome to come to the Burrow whenever you like.” She looked at Ron. “You be sure to invite them over sometime, alright?”

He sighed. “Of course, mum.”

“Alright then, dearies. It was lovely meeting you two.” She smothered them in a brief hug. Harry realized that he’s never actually been hugged this many times in a row before. He decided that he quite enjoyed it.

As soon as he thought this, the hug ended, and Molly was already leaving.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Weasley.” he said.

“Bye, Mrs. Weasley!” added Hermione.

“Goodbye, dearies.” She left to head back towards the sea of red hair once more.

Ron sniffed. “Alright, well. I reckon I better get going too, then.”

“Oh… Come here, you!” Hermione sniffed back, and got up to give him a tight hug of her own. Harry laughed at how red Ron was getting.

Hermione let go of Ron, who turned to Harry with a playfully vengeful look on his face. Harry made to get up before getting cut off by Ron.

“Oh, no you don’t! Don’t think that you’re getting out of this one, Potter!” He snickered, and tackled Harry in his embrace.

They all laughed together one last time, and said their goodbyes. The trio promising to owl each other every day, from the most mundane of reasons to the furthering of their little “project”. Thus leaving Harry and Hermione back to their own devices.

For a brief second, Harry wondered if he should get going soon, as well. One look towards his nervous friend swayed the notion entirely. A few more minutes of waiting can’t be too bad. He buried his unease and uncertainty under the comfortable layers of conversation, hidden deep within his thoughts.

After about 20 minutes, A mousy man with big, chunky brown glasses and a sweater vest along with a confident looking woman with bushy hair emerged from the barrier.

Hermione immediately made a happy sounding squeak and dashed over to the couple. Harry watched as she was hugged tightly by the two. He had to laugh at how he could already see her mouth moving a mile a minute, probably talking about all the things she did at Hogwarts. She dragged them over towards where he was sitting.

“Oh, oh! Mum, Dad, this is Harry! He’s one of my best friends at Hogwarts! Did you know that he’s also famous? He was mentioned in a few of those history books we got a while back at Diagon Alley!” She raved.

The two were a kindly couple with intelligent eyes and bright smiles.

Mr. Granger raised his eyebrow inquisitively. “Oh? Which ones? Maybe I’ve heard of him.”

Hermione looked like she was a puppy given a bone. “He’s in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century!”

Mr. Granger looked quite impressed, and turned to Harry with a hint of wonder in his smile. “Well I’ll be! Looks like we’ve got a bonafide wizard celebrity on our hands!”

Mrs. Granger smacked her husband playfully. “Oi! Let the boy introduce himself to us first, dear!”

He snorted. “Right, sorry about that, son.” He held out his hand towards Harry. “Joseph Granger, Mr…?”

Harry was slightly taken off guard over their playful dynamic, but snapped out of it to answer. “Um, right. I’m Harry Potter, sir and-- er ma’am. Nice to meet you.” He shook Joseph’s hand.

Mrs. Granger smirked. “How polite! But you don’t have to be so formal with us, Harry. Hermione’s already told us so much about you and that Ron kid… We’ve met you all but in person.” She then held out her own hand. “Jean Granger.”

He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”

The conversation seemed to kick off from there. Hermione describing to her parents in detail about the kind of work they did in each class, starting with Charms. Jean Granger nodded along, listening intently, while her husband looked like he wanted to take notes.

Harry supplied what little information he could when asked, but mostly just watched their conversation with interest. The Grangers meshed with each other quite well, Harry mused. They bantered back and forth with one another, keeping the mood light and comfortable. They encouraged their daughter to regale them with her tales, and took in every word she spoke with pride. He wondered to himself if his parents would have listened to him gush about Hogwarts like this, too.

The conversation shifted quickly and seamlessly from Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, DADA… and finally, Potions, which seemed to spark some recognition in the Grangers’ eyes.

“Potions, huh? That’s the one with that nasty teacher, right?” Joseph asked. “Professor Snape, was it?”

 Hermione nodded. “Yeah, He’s also the resident Potions Master and head of Slytherin house.”

Jean made a strained noise. “What?! He does all that? That seems like a lot of work for one guy.” She grimaced. “All that on top of teaching a group of adolescents… I’d be pretty nasty too.”

Her husband raised his brow. “Hm? What does a resident Potions Master do, again?”

Hermione puffed up. “Didn’t you read Hogwarts a History, Dad?”

Harry had to suppress a laugh hearing those familiar words aimed at her own father.

Joseph stuttered for a moment before turning to his wife for help.

Jean rolled her eyes at his antics. “The resident Potions Master is the one who supplies all of the potions for the infirmary, and any potion that the school needs in general… Aren’t you supposed to be the book-smart one in this relationship?”

He huffed and crossed his arms.“I knew that... I was just giving you an excuse to show off how book-smart you can be.”

The Grangers collectively laughed at that.

Joseph cleared his throat. “But still, he’s the adult. He should know better than to be so… acidic.”

Jean nodded. “Exactly! From what I’ve heard of him last winter, wasn’t he constantly degrading his students? That’s not a very healthy environment for learning.”

He nodded back fiercely. “Exactly! It’s not a healthy environment, period. I mean, who could possibly be mean to our cute widdle Hermione??” He pinched his daughter’s cheeks. “ Look at her!! Does the man not have a working brain?!”

Hermione, herself, blushed and tittered nervously. “Daa-d.”

Harry and Jean laughed openly at his antics.

“Anyway” Hermione said through lightly grit teeth, still red in the face. “Harry, Ron and I were thinking about getting better at potions, maybe, so the Professor doesn’t have to stress out as much during class.”

Jean blinked. “I thought you did well in Potions, honey?”

She shook her head. “Well, technically I’m just going to be the one tutoring them…” She frowned. “But I do admit I need to work on my classroom etiquette.”

Joseph hugged his daughter. “Aw… Wow, my baby girl is growing up so fast!” He then scowled. “This Professor Snape guy better be grateful.”

  Harry grinned along with the others. He felt odd. Not in a bad way, just-- he’s never felt this way before. He first noticed it while talking with the Weasleys, and now he feels it again here with the Grangers too. It felt… safe here. It was hard to describe what was happening. It was like, even though he wasn’t the most active participant in the conversation, there wasn’t any pressure to be active. There wasn’t any pressure to prove himself worthy of this conversation-- they were perfectly happy for him to listen and answer at his own pace. It wasn’t as if they just talked at him expecting him to just shut up and listen. He could say whatever he liked and his thoughts were accepted and-- get this-- appreciated. It was so nice. Something about this just made him feel warm and soft inside. He felt like the luckiest kid in Hogwarts to make such kind friends who have kind families. He could even ignore the dull and hollow ache, locked away and forgotten within the small cupboard of his heart.

“So, Harry.” Jean started. “When do your relatives get here?”

Unfortunately not everything lasts forever. With one simple question, any and all warm feelings he had moments prior came to an abrupt halt.

He took a short breath. “I… What time is it now?”

Joseph looked at his watch. “About… 12:15.”

Harry bristled. Has it been that long already? His mind compiled a short, but horrifying list of the possible consequences for being so late.

He quickly grabbed his trolley. “I should--” Hedwig hoots angrily for the rude awakening. “--get going now.”

Jean and Joseph stared at him incredulously, and Hermione put her hand on his shoulder.

“Er… Harry, did you want to… maybe, stay a little longer?” She glanced at her parents. “I mean… If that’s okay?”

The duo merely looked at her as if she should already know the answer, and she brightened a little more.

Harry’s thoughts came to a shuddering halt.

… He wanted to indulge in that warmth again. He was so cold-- he just wanted….

He cut himself off.

That was selfish of him. That wasn’t what they were offering him.

Even though his very soul was screaming for something more…

“Thank you, but I shouldn’t worry my uncle and aunt like this.” He smiled.

He threw any and all other answers back into that cupboard where it belonged. Locked away, pushed aside.

Stop being so dramatic. This isn’t that big of a deal. Just be grateful for what you have.

Hermione furrowed her brows. “Well… Keep in touch, okay?”

Harry grinned. “Of course, ‘Mione.”

She looked at him, as if searching for something. Instead of saying anything, she hugged him.

“I’ll miss you.” She broke the hug and smirked. “If you forget to study extra hard in Potions this summer, as your official tutor I’ll be forced to assign you a whole essay on the proper usage of frog guts.”

He laughed. “Of course, Professor Granger.”

They walked through the magical barrier and Harry waved at them as he watched their backs disappear into the crowd. He absolutely did not feel any regret seeing them leave.

He turned his thoughts to where his uncle could possibly be. He figured his best bet would to be to check the car park for any familiar looking vehicles.

He wheeled his trolley in that direction, passing by the people going about their day.

Once he finally reached his destination, he looked around.
Uncle Vernon’s car was nowhere to be found.

He figured that he was just late, and found a nice bench by the building to sit on with a good vantage point for watching the various cars entering and exiting.

He’ll be here.

 --------

Hermione was quiet during the drive home. Her mind wandered to the last interaction she had with her best friend.

He looked so worried. She could tell he didn’t want to leave yet. Admittedly, she didn’t want him to go, either.

“Er… Harry, did you want to… maybe, stay a little longer?” She glanced at her parents. “I mean… If that’s okay?” 

She barely had to look at their response, as she already knew mum and dad would agree, but she always asked, just in case.

Harry paused. His face blank. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

A beat, then he smiled a perfect smile.

“Thank you, but I shouldn’t worry my uncle and aunt like this.”

Looking at him, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. There wasn’t anything off about what he said. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, and from anyone else were to say it the same exact way he did, she’d think nothing of it. But for some reason, it just felt… strange. A part of her wanted to wave the answer away with a laugh and force him to go with them to a restaurant or something anyway. She wanted to ask if he could stay over for the summer. They could even invite Ron, and start their tutoring sessions much earlier. She wanted to but she knew it wouldn’t make any sense. Hermione prided herself in thinking logically, and this just wasn’t… logical.

So she did the next best thing.

“Well… Keep in touch, okay?”

He kept smiling. “Of course, ‘Mione.”

She should have said something, but she didn’t. Not knowing what to do, she hugged him.

Her heart stung a bit from that, and she told herself this was one of those normal ‘sad-that-the-year-is-over’ feelings.

With promise of the future, she left him there.

She did not feel any regret leaving him behind.

None at all.

Hermione shook herself out of her thoughts. It’s too late now. Nothing she can do about it now…

He’ll be fine.

He’ll be fine.

He’ll be fine.

This mantra repeated constantly in the back of her thoughts even as she prattled on and on to her parents about her classes and time at Hogwarts.

And so, the car whirred away from the station, away from her regrets, away from Harry.