Harry's Interactive 8th Year: Prologue (and nominations for the Chapter 1 poll) (Patreon)

Harry Potter could never remember a time where he’d felt so comfortable in his own skin.

People had been stopping and staring from the moment he’d arrived in King’s Cross, just as they’d jammed the streets of Diagon Alley yesterday when he’d gone to buy his school supplies. In the past he would’ve been uncomfortable and tried to keep his head down as much as possible, but now he kept his head up and smiled. He was going to face this for the rest of his life, so he’d decided it would be better to meet it head on instead of wishing it would all go away. Besides, he’d actually earned a bit of the praise he got now. This wasn’t him getting praised for something his mother did while he was a baby in his nappies. It had been him and his friends who had stopped Voldemort. So when kids asked for his autograph in Diagon Alley, or grown men fought back tears as they shook his hand, he hadn’t flinched or shied away. He’d done his best to accommodate them and then gone about his day as best he could. And now, when he passed little firsties who were about to board the train for the first time, he met their awestruck expressions with a friendly smile and a nod. 

He wondered what Ron and Hermione would say when they saw him again. He knew he felt like a new person now that he no longer had a war to fight, and he was curious how evident the changed would be to his oldest friends. He was sure Hermione would chide him for putting his shopping off until literally the last possible day, but in his defense he hadn’t even been in the country until yesterday morning.

After the end of the war, after the funerals and the ceremonies and all the rest of it, what Harry had wanted and needed more than anything was to get away from it all. Hermione’s priority had been on finding her parents and restoring their memories, as it should have been. And Ron, well, the Weasleys had needed to spend the summer together to grieve. Harry’s heart ached for their loss, just as it did for everyone else who had lost loved ones to Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

He did sympathize and share in their grief, but one thing he’d finally accepted was that he did not need to bear any of the guilt and responsibility for any of it. That was actually something that Arthur and Molly had helped him to realize. Even in their own unimaginable grief after the loss of Fred they’d still been able to recognize the guilt weighing him down, hounding his every step like the bludger Dobby had charmed to attack him during the quidditch match in 2nd year. 

When he’d confessed his feelings, confessed all the second guessing (what if he’d been faster? What if he’d been better? Maybe Fred wouldn’t have died, or Dobby, or Hedwig, or Colin, or…)

Mrs. Weasley had wrapped him in a tight hug, comforting him even while she dealt with the devastating sorrow of losing a son. She and Arthur had told him how grateful they were for him and Ron and Hermione for ending the war as quickly as they did. They’d lived through the last one, and they knew that things would only have gotten worse the longer Voldemort had remained in power. That he’d been stopped due to the efforts of two brave wizards and one clever witch who should have had nothing more substantial than passing their NEWTS on their mind was amazing, and anyone who blamed Harry for a single life that was lost didn’t know anything. 

Hearing their earnest words had allowed him to finally let go of all the weight he’d been carrying, and not just from that final battle. He’d finally been able to forgive himself for Sirius being killed, and not stopping Cedric from grabbing the cup with him, and the million other things he’d decided he bore responsibility for over the years.

Shedding all of that guilt had been an amazing feeling, and afterwards, with Voldemort finally no longer being a concern in his life, he’d been struck with the suddenly pressing need to get out of Britain and have a normal summer vacation. Ron and Hermione had dealt with their own responsibilities, so he’d been all alone on his trip. It had been strange at first, not having them by his side, but it had been for the best. He’d needed that time to himself, and for the first time in his life, he’d been able to act like a normal teenager, relaxing and flirting with girls instead of worrying about fighting a war.

The flirting had been awkward at first; it wasn’t really something he’d ever done much of in the past. But the girls in the magical community of Madrid had worked wonders at bolstering his confidence. He’d learned a great deal during his summer abroad. A great deal. And now he was ready to put all that he’d learned into practice at Hogwarts, and hopefully learn even more in the process.

Why was Harry so happy as he slowly made his way through the throng of gawkers and well-wishers and towards the Hogwarts Express? Because for the first time, he was going to school without the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head. There would be no dark wizards, werewolves, possessed professors, diaries, basilisks, escaped convicts, dangerous tournaments, Ministry toadies or any of the other shit he’d dealt with for his first six years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

He had far more than NEWTS on his mind as he boarded the train on September 1st for this, the very last time. In this one year, he was going to make up for the six years of life or death situations the school had thrown at him. He was going to be a normal schoolboy who did what any normal schoolboy would do when spending nine months at a boarding school filled with sexy young women.

He was going to get laid.

-- 

“Hiya, Harry!”

“Neville!” Harry stepped forward, accepted the other boy’s outstretched hand and shook it firmly. Then he turned his head to smile at the incoming first years who had gathered around him on the platform and followed him onto the train. “This is another one of the heroes of the battle too, you know!” he said. “What’s your new nickname in the Prophet, Nev? Slayer of Snakes?”

“Ugh, not you too!” The young man shook his head sheepishly, reminding Harry of the boy he’d been for most of their time at Hogwarts rather than the confident young man who’d cut Nagini’s head off with the Sword of Gryffindor. He gave a little half-wave and a nod to the clustered incoming firsties, who were now looking at him with the same sort of reverence with which they’d followed Harry onto the train. “Merlin, is this what you’ve dealt with for the last seven years, Harry?”

“Not exactly,” he said, shrugging. “For starters, most people have flipped between thinking of me as a hero and looking at me as Salazar Slytherin reborn no less than fifteen times.” 

“I can’t argue with that.” Neville nodded, no doubt remembering the incident with the snake in 2nd year, or almost everyone (including Ron) thinking he’d cheated and slipped his name into the goblet in 4th year, or buying into the Ministry propaganda about him and Dumbledore in 5th year. “You seem like you’re handling all the attention loads better now. I saw this morning’s Prophet before I left; you looked happier than I’ve ever seen you, especially with that big a crowd around you.”

“I decided to stop letting my fame bother me,” he said. “It’s never going anywhere, right? I can’t let it get me down, especially now that Voldemort is dead and I’m free to live my life how I want to.”

“Speaking of, I was surprised you decided to take Professor McGonagall up on the open invitation to repeat 7th year.” All of the students in Harry’s year had been given the offer to repeat it, since nothing they’d done during the year of Voldemort’s occupation had prepared them to take their NEWTS. All the other years had moved up like normal (so Ginny, Luna and the rest of their age would be 7th years, and Harry, Neville and everyone else who had returned would be ‘8th years’, and both groups would be preparing to take their NEWTS at the end.) The previous 5th years were still moving up to 6th year, but they’d be sitting their OWLS at the end of it.

“I’m not really ‘repeating’ it like you and the others are, since I was too busy traveling around the countryside trying to avoid the Snatchers this time last year,” Harry said.

“Sure, but most of us need our NEWTS for our career plans,” Neville said. “You want to be an auror, right? I read Kingsley’s interview; I saw him say that you were welcome any time, NEWTS or no NEWTS.”

“Yeah.” Kingsley had told him as much in person, saying that everything he’d done in his life already had proven his qualifications more than any test ever could. “I’m not sure if I want to be an auror anymore,” he admitted. “Maybe I’ve fought enough dark wizards in my lifetime, you know?” Neville nodded in understanding. “Besides, now that the war’s over, I’m ready to have a normal schoolyear for a change.”

“I’m not sure if you’re capable of ‘normal,” Neville said. The two men scooted over to one side of the train to allow a group of students pass. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott smiled at them, and Harry saw Neville blush and wave back shyly when Hannah waved at him. A couple of familiar-looking girls weren’t too far behind. Harry was pretty sure they were Slytherins in his year, though he’d never interacted with them much. The brunette gave them a little half-nod of acknowledgment, which he returned. The blonde with the icy blue eyes didn’t even spare them a glance though. He found his eyes following her ass swaying in the jeans she wore as she walked away in search of a compartment.

“Eyeing up Daphne Greengrass, Harry?” Neville whispered, leaning in and giving him a wink.

“So that’s who that was?” He’d heard the name, now that he thought about it. He remembered Dean and Seamus prominently mentioning her whenever they discussed the hottest girls in their year. He’d been too preoccupied with staying alive to pay much attention to it, but he wholeheartedly agreed with their opinion now that he’d gotten a look at her (or her ass, at least.)

“Might want to stay clear,” Neville suggested. “I hear she doesn’t just reject guys who hit on her; she humiliates them.”

“Interesting.” The Patil twins and Lavender Brown boarded next, and though Parvati and Lavender were too busy chatting to even notice them, Padma gave a smile and a wave that the boys returned. “Hopefully Hannah is kinder, eh, Neville?” He gave the boy a wink, and he blushed and shook his head.

“Bugger off, Harry,” he said, but he was fighting not to smile. A huge onrush of younger students, probably third or fourth years by Harry’s estimation, all flooded onto the train, and Harry and Neville had to squeeze in to let them all by. The group took awhile to pass, especially since most of them stopped and stared when they saw the pair of war heroes standing off to the side. 

“We should probably get out of the way,” Harry suggested.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Neville agreed. “I’ve got a compartment with Dean and Seamus a bit further down if you want to join us. Maybe you can tell us about your summer in Spain?”

“Maybe,” he said. “There’s loads to tell.” He was sure Seamus especially would demand a blow by blow retelling of some of the more interesting nights Harry had spent in Madrid. But maybe instead of reliving fond memories, he should go about trying to make some new ones? 

There was Hermione, of course, who he hadn’t seen since she’d left to find her parents, and Ginny, who had hinted she very much wanted to rekindle what they’d had back in his 6th year. Maybe he should go apologize to Parvati for being a shoddy Yule Ball date (and to Padma on Ron’s behalf.) He could be a good friend to Neville and see if Hannah liked him too, and maybe make some headway with busty Susan for himself while he was at it.  Or maybe he should go find Daphne, the blonde Slytherin with the blue eyes and the swaying ass, and see if he could chip away at that ice?

“Guess we’ll have to see,” he said. He was sure spending time chatting with Neville, Dean and Seamus and regaling them with every lurid detail of his summer would be a fun way to spend the train ride, but he wasn’t willing to commit to anything yet.

“Yeah, not like you’ve got a lack of options, right?” Neville said with a grin. “Well, we’ll save room for you if you decide to drop by. Left side, third compartment from the back.” 

“Sounds good, Nev.” He shook the boy’s hand again and clapped him on the back. Neville turned to head to his compartment, and Harry debated on whether or not he should follow.

The compartments were filling up, but Harry was sure every one of them would make room for him even if they all had to squeeze together. (And maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.) All he had to do was decide how he wanted to pass the time on this, the last September 1st train ride to Hogwarts he would ever take.

You decide:

How (and with whom) does Harry pass the time on the train ride to Hogwarts?