An Opus Alchymicum Vol 3: The Book of Dust

Extending Families

A/N: This is just a fluffy little filler chapter for the Christmas Period, both in the story and in real life!

***

Harry jerked awake as the Hogwarts Express came to a full stop and Papageno pawed at his slumbering chin. Harry's hand flew immediately to his face, to wipe a trail of drool that was running down his jaw. Then he felt cautiously inside his coat pocket. Tom Riddle's diary was still there, still unanswered, providing a tangible link to the best path Harry had yet found to clear Hermione's name.

If only he could figure out the best way to use it.

"Are you coming?" Neville quipped, jumping up. "Or do you plan to stay there till January? It might be fun, actually. I'd like to know where the Express goes when we aren't using it."

"I don't know, the Island of Sodor?" Harry joked.

"Where?"

"Nevermind."

Harry followed Neville from the train. He was holding Papageno like a baby, just in case he somehow lost him on the crowded platform. Harry felt a thrill of excitement as he joined the throng, for he knew he'd be seeing Hermione again soon to return her dæmon to her. Harry felt a pang of sadness at that. He'd gotten used to having Pap around, and he'd miss him when he was gone. He actually hurt at the thought.

Pretty much the same way he ached without Hermione at his side, really.

Harry contented himself with the knowledge that Hermione would be close by for a few minutes anyway. He was looking forward to seeing her face. His world lacked something without her smile in it, like having a crackling fire with no warmth. Harry said his goodbyes to Neville and picked up his travel bag, then set off in search of a familiar face.

But when he found some, his heart sank. For though he found his parents, stood with Lyra and Sirius, Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

It was the first thing he asked when he joined them.

"Where is she?" he demanded. "Where's Hermione?"

"Her suspension carries to the home, too," Lyra explained. "Hermione is being restricted in her freedoms, both for her own safety and that of others, on the off-chance that she is responsible for the attacks at Hogwarts. Essentially, she is confined to our flat in Oxford."

"So ... will I be allowed to come and visit her?" Harry asked frantically.

"I'm afraid not," Lyra sighed sadly. "Dumbledore was very specific about the terms. There are others at the school who have advocated a far more severe punishment. This is the best we can hope for under the circumstances."

"Well, that sucks," Harry moaned. "Can I at least write to her? Can I send her a Christmas Card?"

Lyra smiled warmly at him. "I'm sure that will be allowed. It will cheer my girl up no end, too, for she's been in complete high dudgeon around the flat this last week or so! She's too free-spirited to be caged up like this."

Harry grinned at that, his mind flooded with images of a frustrated Hermione stomping round and around the flat, with that adorable pout that she always wore when she was angry plastered to her face.

"Okay, well I suppose that'll just have to do," Harry sighed. "But I have something for her. Here."

Harry held out his hands and offered Papageno to Lyra, who backed away sharply, her eyes bulging in fright.

"No!" she hissed lowly, gasping as she stepped clear. "Pap will have to walk alongside us."

"What ... so not even you touch him?" Harry breathed lowly.