For the Devil to Dance Again [tomarry]

1. the hogwarts express

Looking up at the gleaming crimson of the Hogwart's Express, Harry Potter felt a true smile appear on his face for the first time in months.

Finally, he was going home. His real home, not the farce that was Potter manor and his so-called family.

He did his best to ignore the sound of his mother fussing over his twin, his father's teasing voice. Shifting on his feet, leaning against his trunk, he waited. Harry would much prefer to just board the Express and get going, but he knew a lecture would be coming his way if he didn't say goodbye. He had already sullied the Potter name by being sorted into Slytherin, according to his father. He didn't need another speech, not today, not about how he needed to stop acting out because he was jealous of Ryan.

Harry wasn't jealous of his twin. At least, not any longer. When they were children, he had been, but not of his fame, like his father and mother seemed to think. No, Harry had been envious of the attention heaped on his brother, while his own accomplishments were dismissed as attention seeking or insignificant in the face of Ryan's renown. His parent's assumption that he wanted to be like Ryan was the bane of his existence, and one of the reasons he couldn't wait to get away from them.

Looking back on it, being sorted in Slytherin was one of the best things that had ever happened to Harry, not matter that he had been terrified of his family's reaction at the time. Little first year Harry had still been eager for their approval, still believing that he could earn it somehow, if only he was good enough. But Slytherin had allowed him to flourish, to find his own path outside of his twin's looming shadow. If there were some obstacles at being the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived in the house of serpents, they had only made him stronger, or so he believed.

Now entering his fifth year, the shining silver Prefect's badge on his robes were just proof of how much he had excelled there. Even Harry had thought it would go to Draco Malfoy, and it had been quite the surprise when it was included in his school letter. His brother, of course, had gotten his own badge, as well. Naturally, the Boy-Who-Lived would be a Prefect.

Yet another thing that he couldn't have for his own.

Finally, his mother turned to him, a strained smile on her face. While his relationship with Lily had never been as combative as his relationship with James, they had been growing further apart, his mother apparently not sure how to treat him in comparison to Ryan.

"Well, good luck with your final year, Harry," she said, smoothing down his robes. "And make sure you study hard for your O.W.L.'s."

There had been no such admonishment for Ryan, who was apparently meant to skate through life easily, between his fame and the Potter fortune and name. But Harry had neither, being the younger son, and fallen out of favor at that. He would eventually have to actually work for a living.

"Of course, mother," he said, with a formal air that he had picked up from his Slytherin housemates.

He found the distance helped him to cope with what remained of his desire for her approval. He had managed to get rid of whatever similar sentiments he had towards James, but Harry had always been vulnerable in the face of his mother's love. Mostly because she, at least, seemed genuine in her affections, no matter how clumsy they were.

"Well, you'd best get on the Express, then," she said, taking a step back. "Say goodbye to your dad."

With ice in his eyes, Harry looked at James.

"Goodbye, father," he said coolly.

James barely glanced at him.

"Behave yourself."