Chapter Text
Harry paid little attention to the sorting. Another year, same old speech from Dumbledore about being wary of outside threats and the value of your house and trusting them like your family. Except this year there was the obligatory mention of Voldemort’s return.
While Dumbledore had not stopped talking, Harry could feel every head in the Great Hall turn to look at him. And he hated them for it. All of them gawking at The Boy Who Lived, year after year, yet when he needed support and help last year, no one was there to give it to him. Everyone was far too happy to believe the Ministry and Umbridge over him, the person who actually saw Voldemort kill Cedric. Harry wanted to glare wickedly at every pair of eyes that he could feel fixated at him, but he knew since everyone was staring at him, he would look like a madman if he spun around glaring at the entire Hall.
Harry refused to look up. Refused to acknowledge the hundreds of eyes bearing down on him. He stared at the empty plate in front of him, willing Dumbledore to move on, to stop talking about Voldemort so people would lose interest in him.
And at long last, after Dumbledore had finished warning the first years not to go into the Forbidden Forest, he let the feast begin.
Sounds of pleasure and happy chatter immediately erupted in the Great Hall. Hands reached around the table to grab turkey legs, scoop potatoes, peas, sauteed vegetables, mixed salads, rolls, and all the other delicious fixings of the Welcome Back Feast.
Once Ron had filled up his plate and taken the first bite of his turkey leg he glanced across the table to see Harry had not helped himself to any food, and had just been staring at the half-scooped out bowl of mashed potatoes.
“Hey Harry,” Ron started, “Aren’t ya gonna eat anything?”
Harry’s head gave a tiny jolt, as if he was coming back to reality from some far away land and he nodded. He straightened his back and helped himself to two small scoops of potatoes, and a serving of peas. He pointed to the jug of pumpkin juice next to Ron’s left elbow and Ron passed it to Harry with a “Oh, here mate.”
Harry nodded in thanks. That was what Harry did now. He nodded, or he shook his head, or he just walked away when the conversation got too much for him and he couldn’t cope with the petty dealings of everyday life.
*****
Since losing Sirius at the end of last term, Harry felt miles different than who he was last year. It was like there was a dead man walking around in the shell of who Harry used to be, because the old Harry had disappeared.
This past summer the Dursleys ignored Harry most of the time, only addressing him to tell him when they were going out or if they wanted Harry to cook something. Which Harry grew quite comfortable with. Harry began to rise early in the morning, cooking breakfast for the Dursleys, helping himself to his portion, then slipping quietly back into his room until it was time for lunch, then time for dinner. Either Petunia or Harry would make dinner, then Harry could be excused to his room for the rest of the evening.
The Dursleys must have interpreted Harry’s silence as him finally showing a sense of respect for them, and him having learned to not run his mouth about his special school and weirdness anymore. And that was fine with Harry.
It came to a big shock to Ron, Hermione, and Lupin when Harry politely declined their offers to come stay at the Burrow or headquarters after his birthday. He wasn’t quite sure why, but Harry wasn’t ready to see his friends, in fact, he preferred his solace at the Dursleys where he was able to keep to himself and grieve Sirius privately.
Eventually it had become two months since Harry had spoken to anyone, and he realized he liked keeping his mouth shut. On August thirty-first he approached Uncle Vernon with a note stating the time he needed to be at King’s Cross Station the next day, and miraculously Uncle Vernon agreed to take him there with little protest. Harry had already sent mail orders for his books, supplies, and robes to be delivered to Hogwarts so he didn’t have to set foot in Diagon Alley and deal with all the gawkers.
Harry had told Uncle Vernon the time he needed to be at the station 30 minutes earlier than he needed to be, so he could pass through the barrier without a crowd and find a seat on the train alone. Harry situated himself on the train, staring out the window and counting bricks in the station when he heard the door to his compartment start to open. Ron was pulling the door open with Hermione standing behind him.
Ron had a huge smile on his face as he crossed the compartment to give Harry a big hug.
“Harry there you! We’ve been looking all over the platform for you!” Ron said enthusiastically. “I told Hermione those Muggles of yours probably hadn’t dropped you off yet, but she insisted we should board the train anyway to look for you. Guess she was right.” Ron finished as he sat down across from Harry.
“Of course I was,” Hermione said assuredly. She closed the door and gave Harry a big hug of her own. “So good to see you, Harry. We missed you terribly this summer. Wish you could have come to the Burrow or into London for a bit so we could catch up,” Hermione said. “Of course, we understand why you wanted to stay at your aunt and uncle’s though,” Hermione added quickly, not wanting Harry to feel bad.
Harry offered a small smile in return. As Hermione sat down next to Harry, Ron burst into stories of all the inventions Fred and George have been testing for their joke shop, while Hermione occasionally jumped in to share some tidbits from her vacations with her parents, or about how exciting it is to get back to school. Harry smiled and nodded along.
Eventually Hermione and Ron exchanged a look when they realized Harry wasn’t speaking to them, and had started staring out the window almost as if in a daze while Hermione was still talking.
Hermione placed her hand gently on Harry’s arm. “Harry,” she asked, “Is there a reason why you’re not talking to us?”
Harry brought his eyes away from the window and looked over at the worried expressions of his friends. But he didn’t open his mouth, only offered a shrug and threw his hands up in what could either be an “I don’t know” expression or an “nothing matters” expression before he turned his body away from his friends to stare out the window.
Hermione and Ron forced themselves to keep the conversation going for a while, hoping Harry would jump in at some point, but he never did. Not even the Trolley Witch could tear Harry’s gaze away from the window, it was only when the Hogwarts castle appeared in the distance did Harry get up to go put his robes on.
*****