By the end of the summer, Harry was practically pulling his hair out. It had been a truly dismal holiday since, just as he had suspected, his parents had chosen to ignore him in favour of doting on Brian. They hadn't even made a single gesture to acknowledge his existence, undoubtedly still seething over the punishment Brian had received at Hogwarts. The fact that Brian had been solely responsible for that punishment, and that Harry had been the victim, seemed to have been entirely overlooked. Either that, or Brian had misrepresented the situation so thoroughly that they genuinely believed Harry was entirely to blame.
The only silver lining in all of this was that Harry had no trouble whatsoever studying the sixth-year material he hadn't yet managed to cover with his teachers. While he couldn't practise wand movements or observe the effects of spells and transfigurations, due to the Statute of Secrecy's restriction on magic for minors, that didn't prevent him from mastering the theory behind them. Then there were Potions, which was a world apart in itself. Since it wasn't an active form of magic, it couldn't be registered by the Ministry, and therefore he had been able to continue his progress, though it had become much more challenging to keep up with his ever-growing demand for Wolfsbane Potion. So, on the whole, his parents' neglect had proven quite beneficial for his academic advancement.
In truth, the only truly negative aspect of his holiday had been the fact that Ginna had been compelled to travel to her home country for family reasons. During all that time, Harry had been unable to use his Seer abilities due to a promise he had made to his mentor just before she departed Hogwarts – a promise he had fulfilled to the letter, no matter how much the Headmaster had insinuated otherwise.
FLASHBACK
Ginna had only just left, and Harry already missed her. He hadn't wanted her to go, but she had been firm: she couldn't stay. Sighing, he began to look at his textbooks, when to his surprise, he saw the Headmaster approaching him with a brisk step.
"Mr. Potter, I was looking for you," the old man said with a benign smile.
"Me, sir?"
"You. I wished to enquire if Madam Piori is still within the castle. I've been searching for her, but I've had no luck."
Harry narrowed his eyes at the comment, which was undoubtedly one of the old man's subtle ploys. He knew perfectly well that Ginna had departed barely ten minutes ago, as the school's protective enchantments informed him the very moment she crossed them. Anyone who had done even minimal research would be aware of this.
"I'm sorry, Headmaster, she left about ten minutes ago. Why did you wish to see her?"
"Oh… I had hoped she might verify some information with her power… but if she is not here…" Dumbledore said with feigned heaviness. "If only we had another Seer of her level who was willing to assist us, everything would be so much easier."
Surely, everything would have been far more innocent and believable if it weren't for the fact that Dumbledore was staring at Harry in a rather shameless and utterly indiscreet manner. In other words, it was patently obvious that the old man wished to exploit his mentor's absence to use the boy and his abilities.
"Yes, it's a pity. Although I wasn't aware that Ginna had ever used her power to help you," Harry said calmly, then added, "Don't worry, Headmaster, I'll ask her if she knows anyone who can assist you."
The old man's face was a true picture of dismay. Evidently, he had believed that Harry would rush to help him with his war now that his mentor was gone. He had never anticipated the boy's refusal; it had caught him entirely by surprise.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Potter, your offer is very kind, but it will not be necessary," the Headmaster said before turning and leaving.
END FLASHBACK
Now, on the first of September, Harry was waiting impatiently for the rest of his family to be ready so they could leave for King's Cross and catch the Hogwarts Express. The sooner he was there, the better. After all, even if he didn't care about how his parents treated him, that didn't mean he didn't yearn for a little positive attention, as well as some recognition.
At that moment, he was sitting in the kitchen of the house, calmly eating breakfast, while his parents and brother scurried around the house, frantically searching for all the things they had not yet packed, even though they were leaving in just a few hours. He was unable to comprehend their disorganisation; knowing as they did that they had to leave that day, their lack of preparation was beyond his understanding. He himself had had his luggage ready for a couple of days. By the time Brian's luggage was finally prepared, Harry had finished his breakfast and was ready to depart.
The fact that this was precisely what transpired a little later only demonstrated how well he knew his family, in contrast to their understanding of him.
"Well, are we all ready?" an overly enthusiastic James Potter exclaimed. "Harry, I trust you're ready?"
"Yes," was the boy's exasperated reply. "I've been ready for days."
"Ah… Very well. Let's go!"
Shrinking the trunks and handing one to each of their children, the four Potters took the Floo Network to the Leaky Cauldron. After briefly greeting Tom, they stepped out into the Muggle world where they hailed a taxi to the train station, where their children would board the Hogwarts Express. They weren't late, but they certainly weren't very early either. There were barely twenty minutes left when they reached King's Cross, and only fifteen by the time they passed through the barrier.
"Good… we'd better find a compartment, hadn't we, Brian?" his father said once they had passed through the barrier.
Typical. They had fulfilled their minimal role, which was to take him to the station, and then they promptly forgot about him. The truth was, he wasn't surprised in the least; the strange thing was that they had remembered he was still there at all. Without bothering to say goodbye, he walked away from them and boarded the train. Surely one of his friends would already be there, and they wouldn't mind if he left his things in their compartment.
Bingo. He had scarcely opened three compartments when he found Terry, Hermione, and Neville, who seemed deeply engrossed in some very important topic of conversation. All three turned their heads towards the door and smiled at him.
"Harry!" was the general exclamation.
"Hello, do you mind if I join you?"
"You're joking, aren't you?" Terry said, amused. "We were waiting for you! Come on in!"
"And your luggage?" Hermione asked, confused.
"My father shrunk it before we left the house… It wouldn't have been very comfortable to travel with it on the Floo Network."
"What a thoughtful gesture," the Gryffindor muttered.
"Only because he was already doing it for Brian. Since he was already annoyed, it wasn't difficult for him to do it for me too," Harry explained before taking a seat next to the Ravenclaw. "What were you talking about?"
"I expect you've already heard… You-Know-Who attacked the Muggle Ministry… tried to assassinate the Prime Minister and killed four of his bodyguards before the Aurors arrived…"
"Ah, yes… I did. My father hasn't stopped talking about it since it happened; apparently, he was on guard duty when it occurred and was one of those who were sent. He hasn't stopped showing off ever since…"
"Do you know what else happened?" Hermione asked anxiously. "According to the Muggle press, it was an attack by the IRA, although they have denied it, no one believes it…"
"Well, not much. I know what he was bragging about and what they've said in the Prophet, but what truly happened he didn't explain to me… you'd have to ask Brian."
"Not even if he were dead!" the other three exclaimed at once, which provoked laughter in the compartment.
Not long after, the train began to move, commencing its journey to school. For the first few minutes, they continued to discuss what had happened to the Muggles and also the Muggle Prime Minister's reaction. As the conversation progressed, more of their group of friends arrived, although it paused when Draco entered the compartment. Not for nothing was he the son of a prestigious Death Eater (even if he had not yet been prosecuted), and it would surely be an uncomfortable subject for the Slytherin, who wouldn't know how to handle it. So the topic shifted to what they had done during the summer, and where they had gone.
"I went with my parents to France," the Gryffindor said cheerfully. "It was all very interesting, because before we left, I contacted the Ministry so that they could inform me about places of magical interest… My parents loved it, and I learned a lot."
"Did you visit Beauxbatons?" Harry asked with interest.
"They didn't allow me… almost as if they expected me to steal their secrets, but I saw a lot more things. Some of them were truly magnificent, you would have to see it."
"We will see them on some other occasion. What I really want to know is how Harry's holiday went…" Draco said, looking at the dark-haired Hufflepuff.
"Well… as expected. My brother had a grand time, my parents acted as if I didn't exist, and I advanced my studies a lot."
"In other words… you should have accepted my invitation this summer. You would have had a much better time than at home."
"Your father wouldn't have been amused by it, and you know it," Harry replied with a sigh.
"Not at all," Draco said seriously. "I told him about it, and he told me very clearly that he was curious to meet you."
"You told us all that you didn't want to bother, but in reality, you were welcome in all our homes," Jonathan added. "My parents were very curious to meet you, and I think like all our parents…"
"I didn't mean to disturb—" Harry muttered under his breath.
"Again—it's not a nuisance, man!" Neville exclaimed, exasperated. "How do you want us to tell you? I invited you because I wanted to… just like that; the others are surely the same."
There was a general nod throughout the compartment as the young Hufflepuff looked away towards the window, causing the others to sigh. He always did the same thing.
The slightly tense mood of the compartment was broken when the door opened and the Weasley twins entered with their usual mischievous grins. Paying no attention to the atmosphere, they sat down next to Athenea and Jonathan, who had already arrived some time ago and were reunited with their friends.
"Good afternoon!" they exclaimed, settling down. "How has the summer been?"
"Not bad," was the general murmur.
"You're very tanned," Terry observed, looking at them carefully.
"It's just that we've gone on holiday to Egypt…" one explained.
"Our father won the Prophet's prize! Five hundred Galleons!"
"And since we hadn't seen our brother Bill for a long time—"
"—the whole family went."
"That's wonderful! There are a lot of interesting things in Egypt. I'm sure you've learned a lot."
"Well, Hermione, we didn't go with the idea of learning new things," said one of the twins, looking at her with a strange expression. "But to see our brother."
"And what does he do in Egypt?" Terry asked curiously.
"He works for Gringotts… He breaks curses on tombs…" said the other twin.
"Seriously? That sounds like an interesting job," Hermione said thoughtfully.
"It is!" Jonathan exclaimed. "You see a lot of things, and you learn a lot of ancient history. Although it is also very difficult, and Gringotts only hires the best wizards available. The fact that he works there says a lot about his abilities."
At this comment, the twins smiled proudly before beginning to explain in greater detail the work of their elder brother. It was so interesting that even Draco, whose upbringing had taught him to despise redheads and who still did so from time to time, was captivated by every word, not realising how much time was truly passing. It was a surprise for everyone when they heard the conductor announce that in ten minutes they would be at school, forcing them to scramble to put on their uniforms. It was not a question of losing House points before the term truly started.
As soon as the train stopped, the group ran to the horseless carriages to catch one or two, depending on how much they had grown during that summer. They needed two; they had grown from those tiny second-years to proud thirteen-year-olds, or in the case of Hermione and Terry, almost fourteen-year-olds. They already took up considerably more space than before and had finally had to be divided. This division was further emphasised when they entered the Great Hall and each had to go to their respective House table. Although it had to be recognised that the twins, Neville, and Hermione did so with greater reluctance than the rest when they saw Brian already seated, appearing as arrogant and conceited as he had been before the end of the last term.
"Here we go again," Neville muttered, looking defeated.
Once they were all seated and, in the case of the first-years, sorted, the Headmaster gave way to the start-of-term banquet. His usual speech was so similar to that of previous years that it almost seemed as if it were the same, but with minor variations. Harry knew that he wasn't the only one who ended up getting distracted and thinking about other things… if applicable, on how the school year would unfold. The boy could only hope that it would happen exactly as he had imagined it.