Dear Harry,

I do hope I can call you Harry, can't I?

Harry stares down at Lockhart's letter, lips twisting. It feels presumptuous and rude in a way that Harry can't quite define, but all of Lockhart's letters are written in a breezy, self-satisfied way that clearly imply who is, and should be, the centre of the universe.

I've heard you're quite the little letter-writer, and I
thought I'd gift you with a letter of my own - perhaps
you might keep this one, and look back on it fondly
in a few years!

In the coming year, I will be coming to teach Defence
Against The Dark Arts at Hogwarts - do keep it under
your hat, of course! - and I merely wanted to extend
my most HUMBLE offer of tutelage in advance, should
you like to take some benefit of my expertise.

I'm sure once you're all grown up, we might work in the
same field, you and I - perhaps we might even do an
interview together!

Looking forward to meeting you,
G. Lockhart.

At least, that is what Harry now knows the signature is meant to say: in actuality, it's an unrecognizable swirl of G and L, followed by a scribble that's supposed to be the missing "ockhart".

"I don't want to reply," he says, putting his forehead to the wood of the kitchen table and hoping irrationally that the letter will just go away. "It's so- it's such a weird letter to send, and he's obviously a tosser." Fred puts out his hand, and he and George read it together.

"Definite tosser," they agree together, and without any more pageantry, Fred scrunches up the piece of parchment and throws it in the fireplace. "If he asks, your post was stolen by a house elf, and you didn't get that one back," he suggests. Harry watches the parchment scrunch further, blackening at the edges, and it makes him feel better to see it burn.

"Yeah," George agrees. "Obviously Dobby was so desperate to touch something written by Gilderoy Lockhart he kept it, and he sleeps with as a bedsheet each night. Come on, get up, you lazy snake. Let's go play Quidditch."

"Us and you versus Percy, Ron and Ginny," Fred agrees, and Harry's decision is made up easily: he stoppers his ink bottle and pulls on his gloves to play.

---

"Are you sure we're all going to fit in a Ford Anglia, Mr Weasley?" Harry asks skeptically, and he pats Harry's back, giving him a wink.

"Oh, yes, Harry," he says, nodding his head, and he picks up Harry's trunk to put in the car first. Harry watches, fascinated, as Mr Weasley slides the trunk inside - the car is enchanted to have a ridiculous amount of space on the inside, and he grins. "Now, you're not to share about the car around school, alright? It's, ah, not strictly legal." Harry suppresses the urge to snicker.

"It's okay, Mr Weasley. I cover illegal stuff for Fred and George all the time."

"Oh, good," Arthur says, and then, "Wait, Harry, what-"

"I'll be right back, Mr Weasley!" Harry interrupts brightly, and he heads into the house. It's a little past half eight, and Ron and Percy are eating their breakfasts (with varying degrees of accuracy, judging by the red sauce on Ron's shirt collar) as everyone else runs back and forth. Treacle, the Weasley's ill-tempered tabby, is running around the house with a black jumper on, and Harry can only assume that it's Ginny's, given that she's in pursuit. Fred and George are on their hands and knees in front of the fireplace, both of their heads shoved into the flames as they talk loudly and quickly with someone on the other side.

In the midst of the chaos, Mrs Weasley leans against the kitchen side, drinking her tea and apparently doing her best to ignore everything going on around her. "Would you start taking everyone's trunks outside for me, Harry dear? Just leave Ginny's for now: she's trying to find her jumper." Harry watches as Treacle desperately flees upstairs, Ginny scrambling after her.

"Okay," Harry assents, and he drags Percy's trunk out to Mr Weasley.

---

"Come on, let's get onto the platform," Percy says briskly, adjusting his prefect badge where it stands proudly on his chest, pinned to a red jumper. He couldn't be more irritating in this moment than if he clapped his hands. "Ginny, you first."

"Yes, sir!" Ginny says, rolling her eyes, and she runs forwards, hitting the wall with a loud, harsh smack of sound. She lets out a cry of pain, and Percy and George run forwards, pulling her up. A graze bleeds a little on her left arm, and she'd hit her jaw hard as she'd fallen down, cutting the skin.

Muggles are glancing at Weasleys, and Harry sees Mr and Mrs Weasley share an uncertain look: they're a big family anyway, but given all their trunks and the owls they've got with them as well, they don't really look all that mundane. Arthur moves forwards as George and Percy pull Ginny towards Mrs Weasley. She's crying a little bit - not out of pain, Harry doesn't think, but just at the sudden shock of hitting the wall instead of passing through it.

Harry recognizes people coming into the station, some of them in clothes like the Weasleys are wearing, but others in full-on robes.

"Merlin's beard," Arthur whispers as he comes away from the wall between the two platforms. "Molly, we need to go."

"What? But we have to catch the express-"

"The enchantment on the wall's been dispelled," Arthur says, "Look, take your owls, and go outside. Percy, I need you to take the children to the Leaky Cauldron, and if you see other Hogwarts students as you go around, tell them to do the same. I need to go to the Ministry. Molly-"

"I'll stay here," she says, nodding her head, "And point people to the Leaky Cauldron. What do you think's going on here?"

"I don't know," Arthur admits, "But it's nothing good. Go on, Percy, take them now." Percy steps back, and all of them follow him, too surprised to do anything else. George carries Hermes, Percy's owl, and Harry holds Hedwig carefully as they walk on.

"Come on, now, there's hardly anything to worry about," Percy says briskly, but not convincingly. He talks quickly and quietly with the parents he sees as they move out of the station, and by the time they're walking through London it isn't just the six of them but Daphne Greengrass, looking as icy as ever, Francis Drummond, who seems to be hoping that fifth year is the year he ceases to exist, and Dean Thomas, who talks quietly and concernedly with Ron.

"Has this happened before?" Harry asks. Fred and George's faces are solemn, and they shake their heads.

"Dad said one time King's Cross was attacked, during the war, but everyone could still get to the platform and get on the train. What time is it, half-ten? Basically everyone would have been going in right now, so this is a proper mess," Fred says.

"Oi!" George says. "Lee!" A black boy lugging his trunk on one shoulder turns, and he sees them, waving. "Come here, you idiot!" Lee Jordan runs over, and Harry can't help but laugh a little at the picture of it, the way he holds his trunk so easily - the Muggles must all think it's empty.

"Daphne, you okay?" Harry asks, and she gives a small incline of her head.

"I could perhaps be better," she admits. "Given that I'm currently following the leadership of a Weasley." Harry decides not to respond to that, and they walk in silence until they get to the Leaky Cauldron - Percy ushers them all in, and one inside, he stops short, as if faced with his true nemesis.

"Prefect Lanjwani!"

"Prefect Weasley," Afifa returns, arching an eyebrow. "Slytherins, with me. Gryffindors, stay with Prefect Weasley. You, first year Weasley, you stay with your brother too." She turns back to Percy and says, "We're splitting into houses for the moment, and Mr Darcy's letting us all wait in an event room. I believe your father is currently spreading the word, but this is chaos, Weasley, I don't know what we're going to do to get to the school." Percy inhales, shaking his head.

"Is Penelope here?"

"Clearwater? Yeah, she's downstairs in the room. Come on." Afifa and Percy talk in a quiet, urgent tone: there's none of the usual house rivalry or jabbing back and forth, and that fills Harry with more trepidation than anything else. He sees Hermione sat on her trunk to the side of the room, and he comes over, sitting beside her.

They sit in silence for a long while - Harry doesn't want to speculate, not when there's a thick, worried ball in his belly and the clock is ticking towards eleven o'clock. When Afifa and Percy walk past them again, Harry catches their attention.

"Afifa?" Harry asks, and they both turn, looking down at him and Hermione.

"Yes?"

"They'll be able to get it fixed, won't they? We're still going to be able to catch the Express?" Afifa presses her lips together, glancing at Percy, who shakes his head.

"You've read Hogwarts: A History, haven't you?" Percy asks, and Harry and Hermione nod their heads. "Do you recall the passage as to the safety of the Hogwarts Express? It leaves at its exact time, and can't be stopped or slowed from leaving the station. It can take emergency stops en route, but not here in London. Besides, there's no possible way Ministry workers can replace the enchantments to reach the platform whilst Muggles are using the station as usual - it would cause utter chaos."

"We'll still get you all to Hogwarts," Afifa says, "But it won't be on the train." Hermione drums her fingers on her own knees as they walk away.

"What's going on, do you think?" she asks Harry, and he shakes his head. The room is full of anxious Hogwarts students, each talking quietly with each other - no one is laughing or joking, and even Fred, George and Lee are settled to the very edge of the wall, talking very seriously to each other.

"Whatever it is," Harry says, "It can't be good."