never let me go

familiar faces

TW: PTSD.

//

Daughter – Medicine

"Pick it up, pick it all up

And start again

You've got a second chance, you could go home

Escape it all, it's just irrelevant."

The Hogsmeade train station was crowded with more reporters, all desperate for an exclusive with the famous Harry Potter, or even any of his friends that had also played a major part in the war. He was keen to get to the castle where they were barred from entering, and they would finally be free of the press for a few months. Harry had spent all summer dodging them and would be grateful for the reprieve, even though there were sure to be plenty of younger students who also wanted to ask him questions.

Lumbering down the platform ahead of them was Hagrid, shouting in his booming voice, "First years follow me! Eighth years, meet Professor McGonagall in the entrance hall! First years follow me!"

He caught sight of Harry, Ron and Hermione cringing away from the snapping cameras and came to shoo them out of the way. "Harry! Ron! 'ermione! It's good to see ya!"

"Hey Hagrid!" the trio chorused.

"Now I know I saw Harry a few days ago but how have you two been?" he addressed Ron and Hermione. "Coping okay with... everything?"

Ron's face fell a little, and Harry knew he was remembering Fred. He saw Hermione's hand subtly brush against Ron's. "Yeah, we've been okay," he said.

"Good, good." Hagrid looked a bit awkward, so he went on to say, "Well, eighth years are to meet Professor McGonagall in the entrance hall before going into the Great Hall, can yer pass on the message for me? I've gotta take the little ones in across the lake, yer know the drill."

"Sure," Hermione replied, though Harry was fairly certain everyone had heard Hagrid's announcements up and down the platform.

He departed with a wave, and the trio quickly made their way to the castle before the reporters could reconverge.

They were greeted by McGonagall out the front of the Great Hall when they entered. The students gathered around her were a small bunch: Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville from Gryffindor, a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and Zabini and Parkinson were indeed the only ones from Slytherin who seemed to have returned.

"Welcome back students," McGonagall began. "I am well aware that this is a bit of a unique circumstance, bringing you few who were eager back to Hogwarts for an additional year, or in some cases to make up for a completely lost year. Therefore, there are some... adjustments to the way your education will take place. Most of your classes will be shared with seventh years, however there will be some specialty classes in certain departments if you wish to take them and opportunities to take on advanced work. As for rules and regulations, you are now adults and so we will treat you as such and be a little more lenient with you so long as you are responsible."

"This will be interesting," Ron muttered next to Harry.

"There will be no curfew forced upon you, and you will be allowed to venture into Hogsmeade as you wish, no need for supervised weekend trips and permission notes."

There was a sudden exchange of whispers and grins between the students, Ron actually letting out a 'whoop!'

"However," McGonagall continued, "these privileges can be revoked if they are abused." The students quieted down at that. "Finally, your dorms. Along with the rebuilding of the castle, we have constructed a separate tower for eighth years so that you may have your own space, and each dorm is a private bedroom with its own en suite. You also have a shared common room, but you are still welcome in your houses' common rooms. That will be all, you may now join the feast."

The group dispersed to enter the Great Hall, many of them muttering excitedly about the changes.

"This will definitely be interesting," Ron said. "Cramming people from different houses into one tower? Sure, that's a great idea."

"Don't be sarcastic, Ron," scolded Hermione. "I think it'll be good for house unity."

"Will it make much of difference though if it's just the eighth years?" Harry asked.

"The eldest lead by example," said Hermione, "so if it goes well it could definitely impact the younger students."

Ron and Hermione kept debating while Harry followed them to the Gryffindor table. He was uncertain about it, but only time would tell if an exclusive eighth year dormitory was a good idea or not.

Harry found himself staring at the empty Headmaster's chair and realised he had been waiting for Dumbledore to appear. He mentally scolded himself as McGonagall made her way to the seat instead. She made her Headmistress's speech, and Harry's attention drifted elsewhere. Over to the Slytherin table to be exact, and for a moment he searched for a certain platinum blond head before he remembered he wouldn't find it. He was snapped out of it by McGonagall, who had started talking about the war. He guessed it was supposed to be uplifting, saying how they had prevailed and were stronger than ever. It only served as a reminder to Harry, however, of all the people he'd lost and torment he had suffered through. He found his breaths were quickening, and soon he was struggling to breathe at all. He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering that it was just a symptom of his PTSD, and that he wasn't facing Voldemort again, wasn't about to die. Again.

With a jolt he stood up and made his way to the doors, knowing that everyone had to be watching him, but he just had to get out of there. Just needed a distraction so that he could breathe again. Once the doors had closed behind him and he stood in the entrance hall once more, he stood still as he tried to catch his breath, pushing away the memories that threatened to bubble to the surface and strangle him. After a moment, he regained a little bit of his composure.

Once he felt better again, he realised that someone was watching him. Looking over to the doors to the castle, he saw someone he had come to terms with not seeing here this year at all. Draco Malfoy. Next to him stood his luggage and his mother, Narcissa. What Harry's attention was drawn to, however, was how gaunt Malfoy looked. He defiantly had his shoulders back and his chin high, but Harry could see even from this distance that there were deep circles under his eyes and his cheeks were hollow. His hair was unkempt, without its usual gel (which Harry had always thought was over the top anyway) or even a comb through.

Malfoy looked away quickly, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek. Narcissa gave Harry a small, grateful smile before leaving. Harry had, after all, vouched for them both during the Death Eater Trials to ensure that neither mother nor son went to Azkaban, unlike Lucius Malfoy, who's sentencing had been immediate and non-negotiable.

Harry thought for a moment that Malfoy was going to send a snide remark his way, but then he was approached by Filch and led upstairs, presumably to the new dormitory. Perhaps their childhood rivalry would finally be put to rest this year. Harry wondered what that would mean for them as he took a deep breath and re-entered the Hall.