Oh God, Not Again!

Chapter One

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight.
It was a dream, he told himself firmly. I dreamt I was back to when Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a Hogwarts. When I open my eyes I'll be at home with Ginny.
There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.
And there's Hedwig Jr. knocking on the window, Harry thought, relieved, still not getting up.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"All right," Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up."
He sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him.
The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.
Harry's heart sank. It hadn't been a dream after all. He quickly paid the owl and handed the Daily Prophet to Hagrid. He then listened patiently as the half-giant explained to him about Gringotts. Then they got into the Dursley's boat and headed off towards London and Diagon Alley.
Leaving the Dursley's to fend for themselves. Realized Harry with malicious glee. He knew they'd get home before he would and besides, it really served them right.
All too soon they were in the Leaky Cauldron. As before, everyone was very eager to shake his hand.
Eventually, a pale young man made his way to Harry, his left eye twitching something terrible.
"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."
"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."
Harry briefly wondered how he could stand touching him, but realized he must not have been possessed yet. Probably wouldn't be until he failed to secure the stone. He also wondered why in the world he felt the need to stutter the whole year. He could appear perfectly innocent (especially compared to the likes of Severus Snape) just fine without it, and quite frankly it was annoying. Besides, according to Snape's memory, Dumbledore had been onto Quirrell from the beginning.
He supposed that Hagrid neglected to mention that this was Quirrell's first year teaching so as not to freak him out with the DADA job curse. He decided to bring that up.
"So how long have you been teaching?" he inquired.
"W-w-well, actually, th-this is m-m-my f-first year, but I'm v-very excited," Quirrell said, looking a bit sheepish.
"What subject do you teach?" Harry asked, knowing the answer perfectly well, but that was just the sort of question people asked their future teachers.
"D-Defence Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it.
Yes, Quirrell, and his master, Voldemort, would probably be MUCH happier without such pesky things as defenses against the Dark Arts being taught.
"N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" he laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought. Harry marveled when he thought about the fact that this was the very first person he could remember trying to kill him.
The other patrons of the bar quickly interrupted and it took nearly ten minutes for Hagrid to extricate Harry from his throng of admirers.
Things progressed pretty much the same from then on, until it was time to go to Madam Malkin's to get his uniform.
When Harry went inside, he froze. He'd almost forgotten about his first meeting with Draco Malfoy, here before either of them knew anything about the path that was chosen for the other. Because they were archrivals. Before he found out that Draco, though undoubtedly unpleasant, wasn't evil and had more-or-less redeemed himself.
Hm, Harry thought. Could be fun.
"Hello," said Draco. "Hogwarts, too?"
"Yes," Harry nodded.
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said Malfoy. He had the same bored, drawling voice at eleven as he did at twenty-three.
"Not much point of that until you get there, though, right?" Harry asked.
"True, but she needs something to do while I'm in here. After that I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."
"They probably won't check the luggage, so if you just shrink it, you can carry it in and then unshrink it once you're there. Of course, you'd have to claim it belonged to an older student if anyone asked, but that shouldn't be too difficult," Harry suggested.
Draco looked at Harry approvingly. "That just might work. I'd have to learn how to unshrink things, but until then I could get an older student to do that, as well. Say, have you got your own broom?"
"Not at the moment," Harry answered, noncommittally.
"Play Quidditch at all?"
"Of course, I'm seeker. You?"
"Same. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"
"I think I'd like to be in Gryffindor. I hear they have the best parties."
"Well, that's okay, if you're into that sort of thing. I'm going to be in Slytherin, all our family has been there-"
"Well, that's okay, if you're into that sort of thing," Harry interrupted and he could've sworn he say Draco's mouth twitch upwards.
"Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
"Well, maybe not LEAVE...that's a bit drastic, but I'd definitely defect. I mean, Hufflepuff sounds like a brand of marshmallows or pillows or something."
This time he knew he wasn't imagining it. Draco Malfoy, fighting a smile because of something he, Harry Potter, had said. He never thought he'd see the day! This actually was sort of fun. Why weren't they friends again?
"I say, look at that man!" Harry turned to where Draco was pointing and saw Hagrid standing outside the window, grinning at Harry and pointing to two large ice-creams to show that he couldn't come in.
"That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts."
"Oh, I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?" Oh. That's why.
"He's the gamekeeper."
"Yes, exactly," Draco nodded impatiently.
"No, not exactly, there's a difference between a gamekeeper and a servant. Maybe not a profound difference, but it'd definitely something that any Manor Lord should know," Harry said, knowing full well that Draco would inherit Malfoy Manor someday. He was pleased to note Draco's ears were pink.
"I heard he's a sort of savage-lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed."
"Well," Harry said, remembering how Hagrid had carried him back to Hogwarts when Voldemort had nearly killed him and struggling to keep his temper. "I'd wager a guess that it's a bit difficult to do magic when drunk under the best of circumstances. And not everyone can live in Manors. If they did, then it wouldn't be so special, now would it, and people would have to find new ways to flaunt their wealth."
Draco nodded, considering. "You're right, I never thought I'd say this, but the Hagrid's of the world are needed to contrast with the right sort of people." Now, Harry knew exactly what he meant by 'the right sort of people,' but pretended he didn't to avoid a scene. "Hey, is he with you?"
"Yes," Harry said simply.
"Why? Where are your parents?"
"Godric's Hollow."
"Why didn't they come with you, then?" Draco pressed.
"Well, they would have, but Voldemort killed them, see," Harry explained.
Draco's eyes widened. "You said the Dark Lord's name!"
Harry nodded. "Yes. Yes I did."
Draco didn't seem to be able to think of anything to say to that, so instead he asked, "But they were our kind, weren't they?"
Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. "If they weren't, why would Voldemort bother with them personally? He was rather busy and important near the end, or so I hear, and had other people to kill Muggles for him."
"I really don't think they should let Muggleborns in, do you? They're just not the same; they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine."
"Well, I don't think it's not having heard of Hogwarts that should concern you, per say, as much as they haven't heard about magic or know anything about our culture," Harry said, not really answering the question.
"Yes, that's exactly why I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your last name, anyway?"
Before Harry could answer, Madam Malkins said, "That's you done my dear." Harry briefly wondered why he was done first when he had come in after Draco, but decided not to dwell on it.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," Draco said.
"Later. See if you can guess my last name by then and tell me on the train."
"I will," Draco said, suddenly determined.

Shortly after that, Harry and Hagrid had purchased all of Harry's supplies and he was back with the Dursley's. The last month wasn't so bad. His Aunt and Uncle mostly ignored him and Dudley ran from the room screaming when he saw him. It wasn't so bad, really, as he had had plenty of experience with people ignoring and/or fearing him in his first year, second year, fourth year, and fifth year for getting caught after getting rid of Norbert, being a Parselmouth, being the fourth champion, and being a lying schizophrenic, respectively.
One thing he did do was make sure he memorized his potion's textbook. He was not taking ANY chances there. Snape may have loved his mother, but he sure as hell hated him until he died.
On the last day of August, Harry went down to the living room and cleared his throat, watching with some amusement as Dudley screamed and ran from the room. Harry supposed that that was what happened when Dudley's parents encouraged him to make Harry's life miserable and kept him in the dark about Harry having magical powers. "Um-Uncle Vernon?"
Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.
"I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to go to Hogwarts." Another grunt. "Would it be alright if you gave me a lift?" Grunt. "Thank you."
"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"
"No, but they're illegal in Britain, and I doubt they'd trust us to go straight to school and not let ourselves be seen if we each had one. Not to mention how expensive it would be..."
"Where is this school, anyway?"
"Scotland," Harry replied.
"Can you be any more specific?" Uncle Vernon asked.
"Planning on coming up for Family Day?"
Aunt Petunia looked horrified. "They have Family Day now?"
"All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."
"Great," Harry said and left. To think-only one more day and he'd be back at Hogwarts. And...he'd get to see Ginny, too, if only briefly.
Yes, things might just work out after all, if he could keep his temper this time around and not alienate the press and the Ministry.
Oh boy. This was going to be a LONG seven years.
Note: While Harry does, in fact, miss his wife he's not going to start lusting after a ten-year-old so please no preemptive accusations of me being a hypocrite because my profile mentions I view that as pedophilia. IT'S NOT IN THE STORY.
Review please!