Always Mine (A Drarry Fanfic)

Express

After all four of them had Apparated to King's Cross, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, they crossed the barrier onto Platform 9 3/4. Hermione had her new owl, Artemis, perched on the top of her trunk. Harry had neglected to buy another one after Hedwig. The Hogwarts Express stood before them, gleaming as brightly as ever. Harry caught sight of Draco Malfoy with his mother, and his stomach lurched. Why, though, he couldn't explain. Maybe it was because he had a bit of hope that he wouldn't show up.

First years clung to their parents, not wanting to leave. Can't blame them, Harry thought. After all that's happened, the war, the destruction. It was a miracle that Hogwarts had reopened at all. He walked up to the train, and inhaled deeply as he stepped aboard, trying his best to resist the urge to scream and run in the opposite direction. Someone tapped his shoulder and he jumped slightly.

"Harry, you're alright?" Hermione asked from behind him.

"Yes," he replied.

"Let's go find a compartment," said Ron, joining them.

"What about Neville? Have you seen him?" Hermione asked.

"Oh. I think he wanted to sit alone with Luna."

"Ginny?"

"With her friends." The three of them trudged onto the train and claimed the first empty compartment they saw.

"Wait," said Hermione. "This is—this is the compartment we sat in in our third year." She turned to her friends. "The compartment where—Remus." Her eyes filled with tears. Harry felt his stomach doing cartwheels. And Ron's jaw was locked, his eyes fixated on a rip in one of the seats.

"I think we should still sit here," Hermione said as a single tear fell from her eyes. She swiped at her cheek and continued talking. "Remus, he wouldn't like it if we didn't. Bravery. Remember? Oh, right, you two weren't—well, in the summer between our fifth and sixth years, Remus was, well, it was— Sirius. Remus was crying. I walked into his bedroom accidentally while he was. He told me to sit down with him. He told me that the war had begun. He told me that Sirius' death marked it. He told me that he would most likely be gone by the end of it. And he made me promise, that no matter what, after he was gone, we wouldn't stop living and cry over or avoid everything that would remind us of him. And, well, now that that's reality, now that it's actuality, I feel like we need to, you know, honor that. And it would be a start to sit here, I suppose."

"You're right," said Ron. He managed a small smile. "Like you always are." Harry murmured his assent.

They took their seats and stared out the window onto the platform, waiting for the sound of the familiar whistle announcing the beginning of their journey to Hogwarts.

"So, d'you think we'll be in our old dormitories?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm not too sure, to be honest." Hermione replied.

"They'll probably have extra space in Gryffindor Tower," Ron commented.

"Yes, they probably will," Hermione agreed, getting up and lifting her trunk down from the overhead rack.

"But say they don't?" Harry persisted.

"McGonagall can figure it out," Ron replied, kicking off his shoes.

"Don't you think McGonagall's got enough shit to handle?"

"Harry," Hermione began patiently, as though she were explaining how to perform a Summoning Charm to a fourth year, "Let's assume that McGonagall has got enough shit to handle. Then, relatively speaking, a problem like the eighth year dormitory situation won't bother her."