(Note: I drew the cover myself. No Obito will not be making an appearance. I was just bored.)

--------------------

The moment Harry stepped through the door, the entire house seemed to hold its breath. Ron was the first to spot him, halfway down the stairs.

"Well?" he demanded, eyes wide.

Harry grinned - tired but undeniably happy. "I'm cleared. Not expelled."

The room exploded. Hermione launched herself at him, squeezing tight enough to knock the air out of his lungs. Ron let out a triumphant whoop that echoed through the halls, and somewhere from the kitchen came the unmistakable shriek of Mrs. Weasley's joy.

Even Kakashi, who had been leaning against the banister with his arms folded, felt his shoulders relax. He didn't smile - not fully - but there was a warmth in his visible eye that hadn't been there that morning.

---

Dinner that night was a feast. Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself, clearly determined to feed away every ounce of anxiety the house had harbored for the past week. Platters of roasted chicken, potatoes, gravy, and freshly baked rolls covered the table.

Harry didn't remember the last time he'd eaten so much, or laughed so freely. Even Sirius looked lighter, though the way he watched Harry made it clear he was still worried about much more than expulsion.

Across the table, Kakashi sat comfortably between Tonks and Lupin, calmly disarming Tonks's attempts to sneak extra food onto his plate.

"You'll eat it," Tonks teased, wiggling her fork at him. "You're all skin and bones."

Kakashi tilted his head slightly. "I've been told I'm rather lean, actually. Efficient weight for my height."

Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Mrs. Weasley's voice chimed from the other end. "Oh, let the poor boy eat what he wants, Nymphadora. He's recovering!"

Kakashi inclined his head politely. "I appreciate that, ma'am."

Then, after a moment, he added - "For the record, I do prefer your food to what's served at Hogwarts."

That earned him a bright, flustered smile from Molly. "Oh, well, that's kind of you to say, dear."

Sirius chuckled. "You just earned yourself a permanent invite to dinner, mate."

Kakashi's visible eye crinkled. "I'll take that as both a blessing and a threat."

---

Later, as laughter faded into softer chatter, Harry leaned back in his chair, letting the warmth of the room wash over him. It was the first time Grimmauld Place had felt... alive. Not haunted by dust or dark memories, but filled with the simple noise of people being people.

He glanced across the table at Kakashi - relaxed, but observant as ever, quietly taking in the small interactions around him.

For a boy who'd spent a lifetime on battlefields, Harry thought, Kakashi looked almost peaceful.

Maybe that was what made this moment feel so fragile - the understanding that peace, for any of them, was temporary.

But for now... it was enough.

---

The next morning was chaos.

Shouts echoed through every corridor of Number Twelve, trunks were banging, and Crookshanks had decided the middle of the hallway was the perfect place to nap, forcing everyone to step over him while juggling armfuls of robes and spellbooks.

Molly Weasley, however, was in her element.

"RONALD, if that trunk isn't closed in the next ten seconds, I'm setting it on fire!"
"Fred! George! If either of you so much as think about sneaking Dungbombs into your brother's luggage, I swear I'll-"
"Ginny, dear, don't forget your wand polish!"

From the landing above, Kakashi leaned casually against the banister, watching the whirlwind of redheads move in perfect (if frantic) coordination. It was impressive - no, it was strategic.

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "She'd make a fine field commander," he murmured, mostly to himself.

Tonks, passing by with a trunk that was half her size, grinned. "Don't let her hear you say that, or she'll have you assigned to her platoon."

Kakashi's visible eye curved in amusement. "I think I already am."

Downstairs, Harry was frantically repacking his bag for the third time, muttering to himself about missing socks and forgetting his broom polish. Hermione was calmly reciting a checklist, quill in hand, while Ron was still searching for his missing rat cage - even though Scabbers had been gone for two years.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione sighed, "why do you even have that thing?"

"Habit," Ron grumbled.

Molly's voice thundered again, "We leave in thirty minutes! Thirty! I want everyone in the cars and ready to go!"

Kakashi's gaze swept the chaos one last time before he descended the stairs, a quiet smile hidden behind his mask. It was strange - this domestic disorder - and yet somehow... comforting.

For all their noise and mess, the Weasleys ran like a well-trained unit under pressure.

He'd seen squads crumble under less shouting.

Sirius stumbled out from the kitchen, mug in hand, hair wild and eyes bleary. "Is it always like this?"

Kakashi shrugged lightly. "In my experience, yes. Right before a mission."

Sirius gave a tired grin. "And this mission's called 'Get the kids to the train station alive,' I suppose."

"Arguably the most dangerous kind," Kakashi replied dryly.

That actually made Sirius laugh.

---

When Molly's final countdown hit ten minutes, the entire house surged into motion. Bags slammed shut, cloaks were buttoned, and the Order's members appeared one by one to help escort the students safely to King's Cross.

Harry caught Kakashi's eye through the rush. The shinobi looked perfectly calm amid the whirlwind, cloak hanging loose around his shoulders, silver hair unbothered by the flurry of movement.

---

Kakashi had never ridden in a Muggle vehicle before.

He'd traveled by chakra leaps, portkeys, and even that infernal spinning contraption known as Floo Powder-but this... this was new. The "limo," as Arthur proudly called it, was a cramped, box-shaped beast of a thing that hummed and rattled like it was about to explode.

Kakashi wasn't sure if the sensation in his stomach was unease or nausea.

He'd been placed-squeezed-between Fred and George Weasley, with Ginny pressed against George's other side. Across from them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked considerably more comfortable.

Kakashi gave them a lazy side-eye. "Unfair seating distribution."

Ron grinned. "Perks of getting in first, mate."

The car lurched forward, and both twins leaned in dramatically with the motion, crushing Kakashi between them.

"Sorry, Mate," Fred said with a grin that was anything but apologetic.

"Yeah, the car's got a mind of its own," George added, pretending to steady him while deliberately elbowing his ribs.

Kakashi sighed, voice muffled behind his mask. "So this is how I die."

Harry tried not to laugh. Hermione, however, did not find it funny.

"Honestly, you two!" she scolded. "He's injured! Show some respect!"

Fred gasped in mock horror. "Hermione! Are you implying we'd treat Kakashi differently just because he's poisoned?"

"How rude," George finished solemnly, shaking his head. "We'd never discriminate based on toxic blood conditions."

Ginny snorted into her sleeve. Even Ron chuckled.

Kakashi contemplated-seriously contemplated-whether it would be worth the diplomatic incident to throw the twins out of the car. They'd probably land on their feet, he reasoned. Probably.

It would certainly improve the air quality.

By the time Arthur declared, "We're here!" Kakashi had mentally drafted at least three separate revenge plans, each involving a different variety of harmless but humiliating jutsu.

The car screeched to a stop at King's Cross Station.

Almost everyone tumbled out laughing, stretching limbs and shaking off the ride. Kakashi emerged last, slower than usual, his gait just slightly uneven. His visible eye narrowed as he glared at the twins, who were happily unloading trunks as if they hadn't just spent the last twenty minutes tormenting him.

"Feeling all right there, Kakashi?" Fred asked innocently.

"You look a bit green," George added. "Was it something we said?"

Kakashi straightened, the faintest twitch in his temple betraying his calm tone. "No. Just deciding what sort of alliance I should make with Peeves to get the two of you back. A poltergeist at my side, we'd be unstoppable."

The twins blinked.

Ginny bit back a smile. "You're doomed," she whispered.

Hermione looked scandalized, Ron looked thrilled, and Harry-Harry was just relieved. Seeing Kakashi like this, dry humor and all, reminded him of last year. Of the man who always made chaos feel strangely manageable.

Arthur clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "All right, all right! Let's not block the way. We've got about ten minutes before the train leaves!"

As the group began herding trunks and owls toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Kakashi trailed behind, scanning the crowds. Muggles everywhere-ordinary people, hurrying about their day, completely unaware that magic pulsed just beyond a brick wall.

It was... strangely comforting.

He adjusted his cloak, exhaled, and followed after the Weasleys. The twins caught his eye again and grinned-mischief personified.

He didn't smile back.

But oh, he was absolutely going to get them back for this.

And when he did, it was going to be legendary.

---

Harry trailed after Kakashi through the narrow corridor of the train, the hum of voices and clatter of trunks filling the air. Steam drifted past the windows, curling in soft white clouds that made everything feel hazy and unreal.

Ron and Hermione had rushed off to the prefects' compartment the moment they'd boarded - Hermione practically glowing with pride, Ron pretending he didn't care but definitely trying to look important. Harry had managed a weak "see you later," but they were already gone.

Now, walking behind Kakashi, he couldn't help but feel a strange mix of relief and loneliness.

Dumbledore hadn't looked at him once during the hearing. Not once. Harry kept telling himself it didn't matter, that the Headmaster was just being careful - but that cold, distant silence still echoed in his chest.

Kakashi stopped near the back of the train and slid open a compartment door.

Inside sat Neville Longbottom, half-buried under a tangle of vines.

Figures.

Of all the compartments, Kakashi would pick this one.

Neville looked up, his round face breaking into a grin. "Harry! And-Kakashi! You're back!"

"Guess I am," Kakashi said lightly, stepping inside and sitting down in his usual lazy sprawl, one arm draped along the seat back.

Harry slid in beside Neville, setting Hedwig's cage carefully by his feet. "Hey, Neville. New plant?"

Neville beamed, holding up a strange cactus-like thing covered in boils. "A Mimbulus mimbletonia! My Uncle Algie got it for me. It-uh-squirts Stinksap if you poke it the wrong way."

Kakashi tilted his head, eye narrowing faintly behind his mask. "Stinksap isn't poisonous is it?

Neville blinked. "Er...no. Just stinks."

Harry snorted before he could stop himself. "Don't ask," he said, grinning.

Kakashi only hummed, that familiar calm presence radiating off him despite the faint gray to his skin, the tiredness in his movements.

Harry studied him quietly. His friend looked older somehow - not in years, but in wear. Thinner, paler. The poison, Harry guessed. Whatever Orochimaru had done to him would be difficult to recover from.

Still, Kakashi was here.

Neville shifted a little in his seat, fidgeting with the vines on his plant. "So, um... how was your summer, Kakashi?" he asked, his tone shy but genuinely curious.

Kakashi blinked, as if the question surprised him. Then that single visible eye softened. "Eventful," he said vaguely. "I spent a while traveling with my uncle. He's... something of a writer."

Harry perked up immediately. He knew what that meant. The same "uncle" who was apparently banned from at least three bathhouses across the continent.

Neville brightened. "Oh, that sounds brilliant! What kind of books does he write?"

Kakashi froze for a fraction of a second - just long enough for Harry to catch it. The calm, unreadable ninja turned an interesting shade of pink beneath his mask.

"A... novel," Kakashi said slowly. "About a... hero."

Harry's shoulders started to shake, trying desperately not to laugh.

Neville's eyes widened in admiration. "A hero story? Oh, I love those! Does he write about real people?"

Harry bit his lip so hard it hurt. The image of Jiraiya's Icha Icha Paradise series popped into his head - the garish orange cover Minato had once confiscated from Kakashi's desk, muttering something about "too young for this filth."

Kakashi cleared his throat. "He... draws inspiration from life."

That did it. Harry coughed into his sleeve to hide the laugh bubbling up.

Neville smiled, still blissfully unaware. "That's wonderful! You'll have to lend me a copy sometime."

Kakashi's visible eye widened a fraction in horror. "Ah-no, that might not be, uh... your sort of story."

Harry lost it. He snorted loudly before slapping a hand over his mouth, but it was too late.

Neville blinked between them, confused. "What's so funny?"

Kakashi leaned back, crossing his arms with the air of someone silently regretting every choice that led to this moment. "Nothing at all, Neville. Just... cultural differences."

Harry grinned into his sleeve, still trying not to choke. "Sure, Kakashi. Cultural differences."

Kakashi shot him a flat look that promised revenge - the kind that usually involved pain.

But Harry didn't care. For the first time in weeks, he actually laughed. And for a moment, it felt like things might almost be normal again.

---

Kakashi frowned at the fabric in his hands as if it were some kind of punishment rather than a uniform.

The school robes.

Last year, no one had cared what he wore - technically, he'd been a school champion. Now that Dumbledore had made it official, though, he was expected to wear the full Hogwarts uniform: robes, tie, the works.

He sighed and tugged on the black sweater vest. "This is ridiculous," he muttered. "Can't even move properly in this."

Harry, already dressed, grinned faintly. "You'll get used to it."

"I doubt that," Kakashi replied dryly, tugging at the stiff collar. "There's nowhere to hide a weapon."

"Pretty sure that's the point," Harry said, amused.

Kakashi gave him a flat look but didn't argue. He moved to the window, checking his reflection.

"I feel stupid." he whispered to himself.

He'd swapped his usual Konoha headband for a strip of black cloth tied neatly over his left eye - simple, understated. It hid the Sharingan well enough.

"Do I look sufficiently... wizardly?" he asked dryly, turning slightly.

Harry smirked. "You look like a transfer student trying too hard."

Kakashi made a thoughtful hum. "Perfect."

When the train finally slowed into Hogsmeade Station, the cool mountain air was a relief. Students spilled onto the platform in excited clusters, voices overlapping in a hundred different directions.

Kakashi stepped off last, his new robes fluttering slightly in the breeze. He had to admit - for all the chaos, he'd missed this place. Hogwarts had a pulse, a rhythm that reminded him of Konoha at dawn. Loud, alive, unpredictable.

They followed the stream of students toward the line of carriages waiting beyond the station.

That was when Harry stopped dead.

"What... is that?" he said quietly.

Kakashi followed his gaze. The carriages weren't empty - they were being pulled by creatures that shouldn't exist. Winged, skeletal horses, their black hides stretched tight over bone, eyes like pale glass.

They stared back at him.

Kakashi tilted his head slightly. "Hm."

"You can see them too?" Harry asked, voice hushed.

"Yes," Kakashi said softly. "Seems I can."

"Not everyone can," came a dreamy voice.

They turned to see a girl with long, messy blond hair and wide, silvery eyes watching the Thestrals with quiet fondness. She had her wand tucked behind her ear and wore radish-shaped earrings that bobbed as she spoke.

"You're not going mad ," she said with a haunted tone. "You're just as sane as I am. "

Kakashi's hand twitched at his side. Her words did not comfort him.

Harry swallowed, glancing up at the creature's hollow eyes. "Right. Completely sane."

The girl smiled faintly, as though pleased he understood. "They're quite gentle, really."

Then she climbed into a carriage as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Kakashi lingered a moment longer. Slowly, he reached out and laid a gloved hand against the creature's neck. It was warm - warmer than it should have been.

"Gentle, huh?" he murmured, half to himself.

Harry climbed in first, and Kakashi followed, giving the Thestral one last look before sitting down.

The carriage bumped along the uneven path, lanterns swaying gently with the rhythm of the wheels. The faint breeze carried the distant sounds of laughter and chatter from the other carriages - the excitement of students returning to school.

Kakashi leaned his elbow against the side frame, watching the castle grow larger in the twilight. Its spires caught the last of the fading sunlight, gilded and serene against the mountains.

For once, the world didn't seem intent on throwing chaos directly at him.

No Quasi-Wizard Tournament this year, he thought dryly, lips twitching beneath the faint scar that traced his jaw. No dragons, no near-death mazes, no resurrection of snake-faced lunatics mid-ceremony.

It should be peaceful.

All he had to do was keep an eye on Harry - and by extension, his two perpetually curious, perpetually-in-trouble friends. And maybe make sure that certain snake-obsessed Sannin didn't slither his way into the castle grounds.

Easy.

The Thestral pulling their carriage gave a soft, rasping snort - a sound halfway between a breath and a whisper. Kakashi's uncovered eye flicked toward it briefly. "You and me both, huh?" he murmured under his breath.

Harry gave him a sideways glance. "What?"

"Nothing," Kakashi said lightly, leaning back as the castle gates came into view. "Just thinking how simple this year should be."

Harry snorted. "That's what I said last year."

Kakashi chuckled lowly, a dry sound that held a hint of amusement and exhaustion. "You're right," he admitted. "I should know better by now."

The carriage rolled to a stop at the base of the long stone stairs leading to Hogwarts' entrance. The great oak doors stood wide open, torchlight spilling out into the dusk like a welcome.

Kakashi stepped down beside Harry, looking up at the ancient towers. His sharp gaze lingered on the shadows high along the battlements, his instincts quietly mapping exits, escape routes, threats.

Easy year, he told himself again.