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466Chapter 3: Back to Hogwarts

Back to Hogwarts

When they arrived on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, it was just gone ten o'clock in the morning. There were only a few families so far, most of them families with first years. The scarlet steam engine was as impressive as ever and a little of Harry's anxiety lifted as they headed toward it. No matter what time period he was in, Hogwarts would always be his home.

Suddenly there was a crash and he went tumbling forward. He banged his head on the lid of his trunk. There was a yelp, then Harry landed in a heap on something soft.

"Oof," Harry grunted. Then something shoved him from below.

"Oy! Get off!"

Startled, Harry rolled away, blinking. It seemed he'd collided with another student's trolley. The boy, already in his school robes, was sprawled across the pavement, and somehow Harry had landed on him. Their trolleys and trunks were on their sides, and Harry's satchel had fallen open, spilling books and parchment onto the ground.

"Sorry," Harry grunted, getting to his feet. He offered a hand to the other boy.

"Watch where you're going, you great buffoon," he grumbled. But he accepted Harry's assistance. "You've gone and dirtied my new robes," he snapped, brushing fruitlessly at the dust and grit sticking to the fabric once he was on his feet. "Mother and Father won't be pleased," he muttered, but there was a strange note to his voice beneath the anger.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated with more sincerity. He tried to ignore Tonks's snickering in the background and the embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks. "I can clean them if you want," he offered.

The boy grunted, which Harry took as permission. He waved his wand and the dust vanished from his robes—which Harry only now noticed were of excellent quality, though the cut was simple. There was also a Slytherin crest over the right breast, right below a shiny prefect badge. Harry tried not to cringe—the last thing he needed was to offend a Slytherin, and a prefect no less.

"I'm Harrison Carter, by the way," Harry offered, trying to smooth the whole thing over as simply and quickly as possible.

"Regulus Black," the boy replied formally. Harry did a double-take, and sure enough, he found himself facing a familiar face. The boy—Regulus—had a sharper nose and far neater hair, and blue eyes instead of grey. But the resemblance to Harry's godfather was uncanny. He did his best to quell the sudden ache in his chest.

"And I'm Joselyn Carter," Tonks said, elbowing her way over with a grin. "Twin sister to the buffoon."

Harry gritted his teeth but refrained from retaliating.

Regulus inclined his head politely but made no move to shake hands. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." Then he turned a shrewd look on the pair of them. "I don't believe I've ever seen you before."

"Naturally. We're transfer students," Tonks replied casually. Harry was starting to feel stifled by the airs Regulus was putting on, and quite unconsciously it seemed.

"Ah." Regulus nodded. "Do you have a House preference?"

Tonks and Harry exchanged a glance, but in the end, they both shrugged. "We don't know enough to make a choice yet," Harry hedged. "I would be okay with anywhere, though," he added. He was surprised to find he meant it. He didn't have anything against Slytherins, per say. Just the Slytherins in his year back in 1996, and Death Eaters (who, frankly, were mostly former Slytherins). Here it might be different, and Harry wouldn't mind getting to know more people from other houses.

"I suppose I'll see you around, then," Regulus said. "I'm a fifth year," he added with a hint of hopefulness.

"We're sixth years," Tonks said with quite a bit more tact than Harry would have expected. "But we'll keep in touch, our Houses notwithstanding."

That seemed to please Regulus. He nodded to the pair of them, then he righted his trolley and continued toward the train. Harry and Tonks exchanged a glance then followed him.

Presently they found an empty compartment toward the back of the train. With the help of a few levitation charms, they lifted their trunks onto the overhead rack and took their seats. Harry, who by now was a little bruised as well as exhausted, leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep at least part of the journey. He also tried to ignore the gnawing anxiety in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he'd get lucky and he wouldn't come across his father and his friends until the Welcome Feast.

He was jolted out of partial unconsciousness by a hard poke in the side. He cracked one eye open and glared at the perpetrator—his "sister" Tonks, grinning mischievously.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to take a nap," he grumbled.

"Sorry," she said insincerely. "You gonna be okay?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I'd be better if you'd let me take a nap." At least if he was asleep, he wouldn't have to deal with the anxious nausea churning his stomach.

"You remember our story?"

"Of course I do, Joselyn," Harry groused. "Don't you?"

"Shut up, Harrison," Tonks retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. There was a loud scraping noise that Harry ignored.

"Gladly. Now if only you'd do the same."

"Is that any way—"

"Um…are we interrupting something?"

Harry's stomach dropped at the familiar voice and bile rose in his throat.

"Nothing at all," Tonks said cheerfully, switching gears as easily as blinking. "Just a friendly squabble between siblings."

"Can we sit here? Only everywhere else is full."

"Sure," Tonks agreed, just as the train jolted forward. Harry's head, still leaned against the window, banged painfully against the pane. He also had to clench his jaw to keep his stomach where it belonged.

"Much obliged." There was more scraping and shuffling, then four light thuds.

"So…who are you?"

Harry hadn't known his stomach could drop lower, but it did. That particular voice he only knew from his nightmares. He kept his eyes firmly shut and his teeth clenched. He'd pretend to be asleep and play it all off. Nothing to worry about.

"—ter, at your service," Tonks finished, and Harry could hear the smirk on her face.

"James Potter, at yours."

"I'm Sirius Black. Very pleased to meet you."

There was a choked sound that could have been laughter or a gag. Then there was a light thud and an indignant protest.

"I'm Remus Lupin. Sorry about this one."

"And I'm Peter Pettigrew."

There was a chorus of "nice to meet you's", then, "So…who's the grump in the corner who looks exactly like you?"

An oof and a hissed, "Be nice, Padfoot!"

"Nah, he doesn't mind. That's Harrison, who, unfortunately, happens to be my twin brother."

"No need to sound so enthused," Harry grumbled. "I've been saddled with you, too."

"Ah, it's all in good fun. After all, this was your idea."

"What was?" Harry retorted, lifting his head to glare at her. "Because if you're referring to this, Jos—" Harry cut himself off and swallowed hard—he'd unwisely turned toward the group of boys sharing their compartment to gesture at them, and the familiar yet unfamiliar faces swam before his eyes.

"Never agreed to this," he grumbled, then he left the compartment as quickly and politely as possible.

Harry immediately headed toward the very back of the train. A narrow platform surrounded by a railing protruded from the last car; he went to it and leaned over it, choking and heaving, eyes streaming. The rushing air stung his cheeks. His stomach was still churning and his head spun. Too dizzy to keep his feet, Harry sank to the ground and put his head between his knees. He took deep, deliberate breaths, trying to calm himself.

They're alive. They're alive. It hasn't happened yet. None of it had happened yet. But that didn't change his reality. Harry had watched two of them die and one turn on his friends, and the last slowly waste away in loneliness. It was unnerving to see them all so young and carefree, and with no clue how important each of them were in his life, in their own way. It hurt, like a physical ache. And he was scared—scared he'd give himself away, scared they wouldn't like him, scared that he'd have to watch it all happen again if he didn't find a way to change it.

"It's okay, kid. Deep breaths."

Harry hadn't realized he was hyperventilating until he heard Tonks's voice, felt her hand gently rubbing his back. His chest hurt from the short, sharp breaths and he tried to take her advice. He couldn't quite manage to take deep breaths, but he matched his breathing to hers.

"How'd you know where to find me?" Harry asked when he could breathe semi-normally again.

Tonks smiled a little. "There aren't any empty compartments and I didn't think you'd hang out in the loo or the middle of the corridor. So that left only one option."

"You're not mad?"

Tonks laughed. "Hardly. We were just bantering, and I have no reason to be mad at you for reacting the way you did, all things considered." Then she turned a playfully scolding finger on him. "I do wish you'd been a little more subtle about it, but," Tonks shrugged, "what do I know about subtlety?"

Harry managed a short laugh but he didn't reply.

"By the way," Tonks said after a moment, "you might want to stop in the loo before we go back to the compartment."

Harry nodded and got to his feet, only just realizing his cheeks were stiff with saltwater. He scrubbed at his face with his cuff and turned away, biting his lip. "What's the excuse?"

"You got motion sick and needed some fresh air, and I'm the worrywart who had to come after you to make sure you were okay," Tonks said with a grin. "So you now have an excuse to be grumpy and irritable the rest of the ride."

"Good. Because that's pathetic. Couldn't you think of anything better?"

Tonks bumped his shoulder. "Nope. I'm no good with short notice excuses. Ready to go?"

Harry nodded, determined to play off his discomfort with humor and a bit of sarcasm. There was absolutely no reason to let on how messy his emotions were at the moment. He stopped in the loo like Tonks had suggested and washed his face. He also made sure his morph was in place—chin-length black hair pulled back with a leather thong, angular features, and grey-green eyes. He nodded once to himself in the mirror, then he took a deep breath.

Tonks led the way back to the compartment, though it wasn't far. Just outside, Harry glanced at his surrogate sister, just as she gave him an encouraging smile.

"Thanks," he said quietly. Then he shoved the door open.

"And they're back!" James announced as they resumed their seats.

"He does look a bit peaky," Sirius observed, to nods from James and Peter. Remus had his nose buried in a book, but he looked up at their entrance and offered a smile.

"And 'he' would appreciate being addressed directly," Harry said with real irritation. He had no wish to draw attention to himself.

"You really are a grouch," Sirius said obligingly.

"I also happen to know some good jinxes. So you would do well to not truly make me angry," Harry said conversationally. Play it off, he told himself desperately. Play it off. And act like them.

There was a sudden snort of amusement. "Harrison, I think we'll get along just fine." Remus smiled at Harry, then smirked at his friends, who suddenly looked nervous. His hazel eyes lit up mischievously, and Harry suddenly saw Moony the Marauder, not Remus Lupin, DADA professor (albeit much younger). He couldn't help an answering smirk spreading across his face.

Tonks cleared her throat loudly, and Harry glanced over just in time to see pink spots fading from her cheeks. His smirk grew wider, and Sirius and James moved closer together as though bracing against a storm. Peter glanced between the two groups, then suddenly burst out laughing.

After a moment of confusion, Tonks joined in. Then Remus, and Harry even chuckled a little. James and Sirius locked eyes, both their lips twitching. Sirius cracked first, bursting into a full-blown belly laugh that set James off and redoubled the others' laughter.

The ice broken, conversation flowed naturally. Harry was almost able to forget the knot in his stomach. And he found that if he didn't think too hard or look at any one of them too long, he was okay. But the knowledge of each of their fates still lingered in the back of his mind, all the way to Hogsmeade Station.

Finally, just as the lamps on the train flickered on one by one, the castle came into view, just a few lit towers on the darkening horizon. There was a mad rush to disembark from the Hogwarts Express. Harry finished pulling on his school robes that still did not have a house crest on them, then joined the throng. Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus had gone on ahead, so it was just Harry and Tonks who found a carriage together.

Harry swallowed hard and looked away from the thestrals pulling the carriages. Tonks, seeing where he was looking, smiled sadly and squeezed his shoulder. Then she patted the nearest one on the nose, cooing at it like it was an especially cute kitten or something. Harry couldn't help a smile, and the reassurance that she could see them, too, was exactly what he needed.

Then they mounted the carriage and Harry allowed himself to let his guard down a little. He deliberately sat close enough to Tonks that his shoulder pressed against hers and leaned against her slightly. Maybe they weren't related by blood, and maybe they'd only really known each other a few months, but she was by far the first person he wanted with him in this mess he'd gotten them into, and Tonks was more family than his real blood relations had ever been. He was glad she was there.

Moments later the castle came into view, torchlight flickering from its many windows. The sight of the imposing yet familiar structure sent a wave of nostalgia over Harry. No matter the time period, Hogwarts would always be his home.

Tonks and Harry joined the rest of the students filing up toward the castle, but instead of heading into the Great Hall, they lingered in the Entrance Hall to await the first years, as per Dumbledore's instructions. They'd be sorted after the first years and then join whichever house the Sorting Hat sent them to.

In the moments before the first years arrived, Harry's stomach knotted tighter and tighter. He felt sick. When the great oak doors opened onto the Hall, his heart stopped and then jump-started on double time. Nervously he ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it out of its tie and effectively negating the minimal effort he'd put into styling it. Tonks wasn't much better off, her hair flickering through every color of the rainbow like a badly tuned telly as she twisted her fingers together.

When the first years started filing in, awe written all over their pale faces, Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. He used the limited Occlumency he'd learned over the summer to smooth his expression and bury his nerves, then he put a hand on Tonks's arm. She looked up in surprise, then she gave him the approximation of a smile. As she nodded gratefully, her hair faded back to normal—well, normal but for the fact that it was black, rather than bubblegum pink. Then they were swallowed up in the tide of tiny, terrified first years.

After Professor McGonagall—who looked the same as always, though with perhaps a few less gray hairs—gave her introduction (virtually the same one Harry had received in his first year), Harry and Tonks followed the group of first years into the Great Hall, feeling very out of place nearly two heads taller than even the tallest of the younger students.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd inside the Great Hall as the first years entered, followed by Harry and Tonks. Nearly every eye in the Hall was turned on them—two oddities in what was normally an unremarkable group. Tonks had gone rather pale and Harry swallowed hard in an attempt to keep his stomach where it belonged. Sure, he was used to being the center of attention, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. Tonks was starting to turn green, and it had nothing to do with her metamorphmagus abilities. Taking a calming breath himself, Harry brushed his hand against her arm in reassurance. She glanced over, then squared her shoulders and smoothed her expression.

Harry all but tuned out the Sorting Hat's song and the majority of the sorting of the new first years. Instead, he scanned the Great Hall for familiar faces. He spotted Regulus at the Slytherin table and offered a slight smile and a nod when he caught the younger boy's eye. Regulus gave him a nearly imperceptible nod in return. A few other Slytherin faces seemed familiar, probably relations to those he knew in his own time. He also spotted Severus Snape, but only from the back—the scrawny, pale boy was only recognizable by the longish, lank, greasy black hair. At the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, Harry only vaguely recognized one or two, once again likely relations to his classmates in the future. Then at the Gryffindor table he found several familiar faces, much younger now than he knew them. An invisible fist squeezed at his insides as his eyes found the Marauders, sitting together and laughing. It only squeezed tighter when he spotted the distinctive auburn hair of Lily Potter—currently Evans.

Finally, the last first year was sorted and it was just Harry and Tonks in front of the entire school. Harry only just realized that the tables seemed much fuller now than they had ever been during his time at Hogwarts. And every eye was on him, or Tonks, even though Dumbledore had stood up.

"Thank you for your attention, everyone, and congratulations to all our new first years. Now, as you may have noticed, we have some older students joining us as well. They are transferring to Hogwarts after being homeschooled and they will now be Sorted." Then Dumbledore nodded to McGonagall and sat down. McGonagall opened the scroll of names she had been reading from before.

"Carter, Harrison," she announced. Harry stepped forward, hoping no one noticed that his legs suddenly felt like jelly.

Well, well, well. Mr. Potter. Harry jerked in surprise and he swore he heard a chuckle in his ear. Never fear. All I find in your head will stay there. I've sorted you before—or at least I will. You've changed since the last time.

Just put me in a house, Harry pleaded. And please, don't tell anyone I'm from the future!

Of course not, the hat scoffed. Honestly. Everything I discover during the Sorting is completely confidential, even from the Headmaster or Headmistress. Now, let's see…where to place you…

There was a long pause as the hat hmm'ed and hah'ed over what he found. It was so quiet one could hear a quill drop.

Hmm, what a conundrum. You'd make a nice fit for any of the houses now, I daresay. Especially Ravenclaw, even if your drive to learn is a little self-serving. Slytherin might be a better fit.

Harry's heart skipped a beat—surely the hat wouldn't place him there! —but then he remembered what he'd told Regulus on the platform that morning and wondered at all the things he could possibly change.

No, no. It's a great ambition, to be sure, but utterly reckless. So completely ridiculous that only someone like you could pull it off. So, better be "Gryffindor!" the hat shouted. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. You must come visit me some time, Mr. Potter. Your mind is quite fascinating, it whispered as Harry removed the hat and handed it back to Professor McGonagall. Then, an involuntarily smile spreading across his face, he made his way toward the cheering Gryffindor table.

"Carter, Joselyn!" McGonagall called as Harry took a seat beside Remus. James and Sirius clapped him painfully on the back, but Harry's focus was now centered entirely on Tonks.

His stomach clenched again in nerves on his surrogate sister's behalf and he watched anxiously as the hat was lowered over her head. Her hands tightened on the stool after a few seconds, then suddenly all the color drained from her face and she shook her head frantically. Another long, agonizing minute passed, then suddenly: "Gryffindor!"

Color flooded back into her face and Tonks sighed heavily as she handed back the hat and joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. He immediately got to his feet and hugged her in congratulations. Then they both sat down amidst further cheers (and wolf-whistles from Sirius that threatened to get him hexed).

Moments later, Dumbledore announced the start of dinner. A huge weight lifted off Harry's shoulders—he and Tonks were both in Gryffindor, he was back at Hogwarts, and for the time being he was content.

When the Welcoming Feast ended, Harry and Tonks joined the crowd heading for Gryffindor Tower. Harry tried not to look too confident as he traced the familiar path. Tonks was fascinated at the prospect of learning where another House common room was. With the attention she gave to each turn and significant landmark, Harry wouldn't be surprised if she memorized the path after a day.

The portrait hole opened to the password cour de leon and Harry led the way inside, his heart lifting as he took in the familiar scenery. All around the common room—which looked identical to the one Harry knew in his own time, huge red stuffed chairs and all—friends were greeting each other after a summer apart and first years were looking around in wonder and forming burgeoning friendships. Harry couldn't help but remember his own housemates, and if they were also returning to Hogwarts and wondering where he was.

Harry was suddenly aware that he was surrounded by strangers. Even the faces he thought he recognized were different people to those he knew in the future. A new weight settled in his stomach—the weight of loneliness. Did his housemates even notice he was missing? Did they even care?

"Oy, buck up, kid!" Tonks's voice jolted him out of his thoughts. And reminded him that he wasn't totally surrounded by strangers. "You look like you're contemplating your own funeral, not seeing Gryffindor Tower for the first time." She put particular emphasis on the last phrase, and Harry sheepishly adopted a more appropriate expression of wonder and amazement. "Not to mention your dorm mates seem eager to meet you," she added conversationally.

"Do they?" Harry glanced over toward the fire, where his father and his friends were gathered, their heads together. At first Harry thought they must be planning a prank. Then Sirius glanced up and caught his eye. He grinned broadly and nudged James beside him. James echoed Sirius's blinding grin and beckoned to Harry. Remus and Peter offered welcoming smiles as well. Harry's stomach tightened and his faint smile turned fixed.

"Go on," Tonks said, giving Harry a gentle push in their direction.

"You, too," Harry said, pushing her back and nodding toward the sixth year girls, who he only recognized by the one figure with fiery auburn hair. "Get to know her for me," he added softly; he didn't have the courage to approach her on his own.

Tonks gave him a soft smile. "For now," she said. "Now go!" She gave him another, more insistent push. Harry stumbled a little and paused to glare back at her (though he didn't entirely mean it). Then he headed for the group, though not without some trepidation.

"We don't bite, promise," James quipped as Harry approached. Harry tried not to grimace; apparently, he'd been less successful at hiding his nerves than he'd thought.

"Well, except for—oof." Remus elbowed Peter in the ribs, his face going pale.

"Sirius, I was going to say!" Peter exclaimed. "Sirius bites—bites—"

James shook his head pityingly. "Just give it up, Pete."

Peter smiled apologetically, though Remus still looked rather pale. Harry raised a quizzical eyebrow, pretending not to know what Peter had almost said. It was probably a common joke among them and Peter hadn't realized it shouldn't be said in other company.

"So…I should steer clear of Sirius?" Harry asked, setting for a mildly confused look and trying to ignore the way his heart clenched at speaking his godfather's name aloud.

"Only when he's hungry," James said, covering Peter's slip neatly.

Remus cleared his throat. "Anyway," he began, "we figured we could get to know our new dorm mate. Before someone scares him off." Remus gave Sirius a sharp look.

Sirius dropped his wand immediately and assumed the most (un)convincing look of innocence he could muster. "Just a bit of fun, Mo-Remus!"

"At least he hasn't hexed the first years yet," Peter offered in defense of his friend.

"That's tomorrow," Sirius said cheerfully. "I just wanted to give our new dorm mate a proper welcome."

"What did he do?" Harry asked with false calm. He was starting to get irritated.

"Nothing, yet," Sirius said with a pout. "Damn Remus and his third eye," he muttered. "And I'd just come up with a good one, too."

"If you bite, I'll bite back," Harry said warningly. "And I bite harder." It was becoming easier and easier to separate Sirius Black, godfather and Azkaban escapee, from Padfoot, Marauder. He'd had no idea Sirius could be so insufferable. "However," Harry began, "I don't want to start a war. We do have to live with each other for the indefinite future. But consider this fair warning."

"Warning duly noted," Sirius said solemnly. He even went so far as to raise his right hand as though he were swearing a vow.

"And promptly forgotten," James said mournfully, shaking his head. "I suppose we'd all better brace ourselves for the storm."

Remus sighed. "Sorry about this. I do try to keep them in line, but…" he shrugged helplessly. For the first time, Harry noticed the prefect badge pinned to the front of his—admittedly shabby—robes.

"You're a prefect?" Harry asked in surprise.

"He's the only one who could be trusted not to abuse it," Sirius said, his eyes glinting.

"And we can all just imagine the mayhem you would cause if you had that badge," Harry muttered. Sirius made a sound that was half surprise, half protest.

James laughed heartily and slapped Harry on the shoulder. "Oh, you'll fit right in," he chortled.

"Anyway," Remus cut in, "you probably know more than you ever wanted to know about us. But what about you?"

"What about me?" Harry asked, suddenly nervous. He hated personal questions.

"Tell us about yourself," James said eagerly.

"Where you came from," Peter cut in with a smile.

"What you're doing here," Sirius added.

"What Quidditch team you follow," James was earnest.

"And what classes you're taking," Remus finished with a grin, effectively cutting off whatever smart comment Sirius was about to make.

"Remus!" Sirius protested, drawing out the syllables.

"Let him answer," Remus replied calmly. "Right now is about him."

"Er…" Harry trailed off, uncomfortable. He hated being the center of attention, even in small groups, and now Remus was putting him on the spot.

"Start with the last question first," Peter suggested. "And work your way backward."

"O-kay." Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I'm taking Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, and Charms, plus Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as electives."

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Eew, he's a nerd like you, Moony." Remus elbowed him hard, making him grunt. "Ow," Sirius muttered.

"Same, except I'm in History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures, instead of Arithmancy and Runes," Peter put in with a smile.

"Same, minus Herbology," James added, wrinkling his nose. "I'm in Astronomy instead."

"Same," Remus put in with a faint smile. "Plus History of Magic.

"And I'm in the same as Peter, except Muggle Studies instead of History of Magic," Sirius said resignedly. "Can we talk about something interesting now? Like Quidditch?"

"Well, I do play. But I haven't really been following any specific teams," Harry offered. There were twin exclamations of shock and dismay from Sirius and James, and then the two of them tripped over themselves extolling the virtues of the Tutshill Tornadoes and Puddlemere United. That quickly dissolved into a lively debate over which team was better.

Blessedly, the topic of Quidditch carried them for the next hour, by which time Harry was mentally and emotionally exhausted and was able to beg off answering the more prying questions and go to bed. It had been such a long and draining day that Harry was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.