The Boy Who Never Was - A Harry Potter Fanfic

The morning air was crisp as we arrived at King's Cross Station, Hermione's parents trailing behind us with the sort of reluctant fondness that only parents of soon-to-be-absent children could muster. Emma and Dan Granger carried themselves with practiced composure, but I could see the hint of hesitation in their expressions.

"You lot be careful," Dan instructed, his voice carrying the weight of fatherly concern.

"We always are," I said smoothly, smiling at him. "Mostly."

Emma turned to Hermione, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Make sure to write. And keep an eye on Sky, would you?"

Hermione huffed. "I already do."

I grinned. "She does. Unfortunately."

She elbowed me, but it lacked the usual force. "And you," she said, eyeing me. "Try not to get arrested."

"No promises," I quipped, winking at her.

Hermione groaned, throwing her hands up. "Why can't you just be normal for once?"

I smirked. "Normal is overrated."

Dan chuckled at that, shaking his head. "I have to agree with him on this one."

Emma laughed as well. "Life would be much duller if he were 'normal,' Hermione."

Hermione shot them both a look. "Don't encourage him!"

We exchanged a few more goodbyes before stepping toward the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. As we passed through, the familiar sight of Platform 9¾ greeted us. The air was filled with the lively chatter of students reuniting after the holidays, parents fussing over last-minute adjustments to their children's robes, and the occasional screech of an owl displeased with its carrier. The Hogwarts Express stood waiting, its crimson body gleaming under the morning sun, steam curling into the chilly air and enveloping the platform in a swirling mist.

The scent of coal, warm pastries from the trolley, and the distinct magical hum of dozens of wands filled the atmosphere. Luggage trolleys rattled along the stone platform, and Prefects were already guiding younger students toward their compartments. Nearby, I noticed Lucius Malfoy, standing rigidly with his cane planted firmly on the ground, his expression carefully schooled into neutrality. Draco stood in front of him, head slightly bowed, as his father spoke to him in hushed, measured tones. Narcissa Malfoy stood nearby, her gaze flickering between the two, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Draco's usual air of smug confidence was entirely absent. His shoulders were stiff, his hands clenched at his sides as he nodded at whatever his father was saying. The few Slytherin students nearby made a point of not watching too closely, though their stolen glances betrayed their curiosity. Whatever was being discussed, it wasn't meant for anyone else's ears, but from the way Draco's face kept growing paler, I could guess it wasn't a pleasant conversation.

As we headed into the train, Hermione and I found an empty compartment, stowing our trunks before settling in. I leaned against the seat, stretching lazily. "Another term at Hogwarts. Time to revolutionize the snack economy once more."

"Sky, you're going to be insufferable, aren't you?" Hermione sighed.

"Absolutely," I confirmed. "And you love it."

Before she could formulate a response, the compartment door slid open. Tracy Davis, Blaise Zabini, and a pale, uncomfortable-looking Draco Malfoy stood at the entrance. Draco looked even more skittish than usual, his typical arrogance smothered by what I could only assume was a particularly brutal father-son chat.

Draco swallowed hard before clearing his throat. "I—I have something for you."

I raised an eyebrow as he thrust a small, sleek briefcase toward me. His hands were trembling slightly, and his complexion had gone a shade closer to parchment.

"It's from my father," he stammered. "He said… he said you'd know what to do with it."

I took the briefcase, noting the weight and the fine craftsmanship. I already had a strong suspicion of what was inside. "Thanks, Draco."

Draco nodded stiffly, shifting uncomfortably under my gaze. There was a tension in the air, an uncertainty about where he stood now. I tapped the briefcase lightly. "We're allies, Malfoy. Not enemies. That doesn't mean you get to act like a prat without consequences."

Draco flinched but nodded. "I—I understand."

"And should you forget, just remember—'Wait till your father hears about this.'"

Draco's face went even paler, if that was possible. He nodded so frantically it looked like his head might detach.

I turned my attention to Tracy and Blaise, smiling warmly. "Tracy, Blaise. Good to see you both. How was your break?"

Blaise smirked. "Productive. And I hear I have a new… incentive for keeping Draco in check?"

I nodded. "Indeed. Select discounts on snacks and study guides. But no limited edition items. I still have a business to run."

Blaise grinned. "Pleasure doing business."

After a few more pleasantries, they took their leave, and I set the briefcase aside. Hermione eyed it warily. "What is that?"

I winked. "You'll find out soon enough."

Before she could protest, the train whistled, signaling our departure. The compartment door slid open once again, and this time, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom appeared.

"Mind if we join?" Dean asked.

"Not at all," I said, gesturing to the seats. "The more, the merrier."

As they settled in, Neville turned to me with a grateful expression. "Sky, I never got the chance to properly thank you for what you did at the platform before break. If it weren't for you, Gran never would've realized my wand was the problem."

I waved him off with a casual grin. "No need to thank me, Neville. Just looking out for my friends."

Neville, however, was beaming as he pulled out his new wand—a beautifully polished cherry wood with a unicorn hair core. "Look! I got this at Ollivander's, and it's amazing. Everything just feels... easier now."

Hermione leaned in to inspect it. "It suits you," she noted approvingly.

"Have you tried casting anything yet?" I asked,

"Loads! Even Gran was impressed," Neville admitted, his usual nervousness momentarily replaced with pride.

Hermione, however, turned toward Neville with a frown. "Wait a minute. How were you allowed to use magic over break? The Trace should've detected it."

Neville perked up, eager to explain. "Actually, the Trace doesn't detect specific individuals. It detects magic being used in areas where underage witches and wizards are likely to be the only magic users. Since Sky was staying with you, Hermione, and your parents are Muggles, the Ministry would've caught him immediately if he cast spells there. But if he was in a magical household or anywhere surrounded by adult wizards, it wouldn't register as unusual."

Hermione's frown deepened. "So, Muggle-borns are automatically at a disadvantage? We can't practice magic at home because it would be detected, but pure-blood and half-blood kids can, as long as they're around other magical folk? That's absurd!"

Dean, who had been listening intently, exchanged a look with Seamus. "I never really thought about it like that, but yeah… that's completely unfair. We get shoved back into a non-magical world for months while others get to practice freely. No wonder some kids come back ahead."

Seamus huffed. "That's messed up. No wonder I always feel like I'm catching up at the start of term. My mum's a witch, but she won't let me practice at home because she's worried about getting a warning from the Ministry."

I leaned back, tapping my chin. "Funny you should mention that. I've been thinking of ways to get around that problem. Let's just say… I might have an idea. But we'll talk about it later."

At this, the subject was put on hold. If I say there may be a work around, they could probably take it at face value.