Summary: After his hardest year so far, Harry Potter returns to his aunt and uncles house for the last time. But what happens when the protection Dumbledore placed over Harrys relatives home, ends?
Join Harry as he goes on the search for the remaining Horcruxes. What surprises will he come across along the way? Will he find all of them in time? Will he bring an end to the Dark Lord? Will he escape with even his life?
Go check out a spin-off to this story - "How Long?"
Categories: Ron/Hermione AND Harry/Ginny Characters: None
Warnings: Alternate Universe
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 13
Completed: No
Word count: 60527
Read: 38014
Published: 02/28/06
Updated: 06/21/07
1. End of Protection by lisa_lovegood
2. Good to be Home by lisa_lovegood
3. Photo albums, Cameras and the Oak Tree by lisa_lovegood
4. A day in Diagon Ally by lisa_lovegood
5. You Belong to me by lisa_lovegood
6. Asher Crellin by lisa_lovegood
7. Returning Home by lisa_lovegood
8. Enchanted Flames by lisa_lovegood
9. Changes by lisa_lovegood
10. So Long and Good Luck by lisa_lovegood
11. Back to Bedlam by lisa_lovegood
12. Inheritance by lisa_lovegood
13. Confessions and Combat Duelling by lisa_lovegood
End of Protection by lisa_lovegood
DISCLAIMER: I’m afraid I am not that magical writer, JK Rowling, but I am merely a fan wanting the Harry potter series to go my way. I don’t own any of this fantastic world, I’m just playing in it
Chapter one- End of Protection
Harry Potter was sat on his windowsill, emerald eyes open and aware and looking down onto the road below. Privet Drive was lit only by the street lights, throwing some areas into pitch black shadows, and others into artificial, yellow light. He remembered being here in this exact spot almost a year ago, waiting for his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, to come and take him away from his uncaring aunt, uncle and cousin. He sighed and moved from his seat at the window to his bed where he lay down and tried, yet again, to get some well needed sleep.
What seemed like hours of tossing and turning, Harry looked over at his alarm clock: 00:07. Is that it? he thought to himself with a sigh. Suddenly, with a slight jolt, Harry realised what date it was; it was his birthday; he was seventeen! He almost laughed out loud at the fact that he had been counting down to this day, ever since he had arrived at the Dursley’s in a rather foul mood a few weeks ago, and hadn’t even realised what day it was going to be today. Someone was coming for him later to take him to the Weasley’s.
So far, he had been involved in a total of two arguments with his uncle. The first was when Harry had first arrived at home, and his uncle was grumbling about “having that freak in the house even longer than he is wanted.” After hearing this, Harry pointed out that he didn’t want to be here either, but had to. Apparently, his Uncle Vernon didn’t want an answer and started shouting.
The second argument was about him stealing food out of the fridge, even when it was obviously Dudley wanting a midnight snack. When he mentioned this, his uncle, again, wasn’t too pleased, and Harry was forbidden to leave his room. Not that it made much difference to him. Harry only left his room for meals anyway, which he picked at and got called ungrateful by his Aunt Petunia.
Harry looked at his clock again: 00:12. What is wrong with this stupid thing? He sighed and took up his place at the window again. He had been sitting at the window only a few seconds when all the street lights went out, throwing the street into an unexplected an complete darkness, followed by three loud Cracks. Harry’s heart skipped a beat, it couldn’t be Death Eaters. He was protected, wasn’t he? Harry felt all the blood drain from his face at he stumbled out of bed and grabbed the clock: 00:13 it read. The protection “ I’m seventeen “ It’s gone!
He started violently when he heard the sound of splintering and cracking wood. The Order definitely wouldn’t break down the door! He thought desperately.
“BOY!” he heard his uncle bellow. Harry grabbed his wand and wrenched open his door “Colloportus!” he locked both his cousin’s, and aunt and uncle’s doors to keep them out of the way.
“Ooh! If it isn’t poor ickle Hawwy! All on his own, with no one to protect him!” Harry spun round at the sound of Bellatrix Lestrange’s mocking baby voice. In front of him were three Death Eaters, all with their wands drawn, standing on the stairs and landing. Harry’s eyes darted around desperately for an escape.
His room was to his left. If he could just get through it quick enough…
“Looks like we’ve got you cornered Potter!” At this, his godfather’s murderer started laughing rather hysterically. This was his chance; he burst through his door, slammed it shut and locked it. Great move Potter. Now you’re in even more of a corner! His thoughts where cut off buy a shout of “Alohomora!” and his door slamming open, followed by a scream of “EXPELLIARMUS!” which ripped Harry’s wand from his grasp, sent him flying across the room and his head hit the wall with a sickening thump.
As Harry felt his consciousness slipping away, several things happened at once: one of the Death Eaters started approaching him slowly; his window smashed in as someone with bright pink hair flew through it on a broomstick and stunned the closest Death Eater; simultaneously, several people came running through his doorway and stunned the two remaining Death Eaters.
At this, all Harry saw was darkness…
*
“Harry! Harry, wake up!”
Harry slowly came back to the world. At first he felt blissfully numb, and then a horrible throbbing pain came from the back of his head. He groaned and would have given anything to go back to sleep.
He felt someone slip a liquid down his throat. After this Harry felt fully awake, but he could also feel the full extent of his pain. He was pretty sure he’d cracked his head open. Harry found himself looking up at the worried face of Nymphadora Tonks.
“Wotcher, Harry,” she said brightly as she saw that he was awake and pulled him up into a sitting position. Suddenly the room was spinning and he had to grab Tonks’ arm for support.
“Are you okay to stand?”
“Yeah,” Harry managed to say when his head had stopped spinning.
With much help from his pink haired friend, Harry got to his feet and realised he was still in his bedroom at the Dursley’s. After a few seconds Harry asked what had happened.
“When we get to the Weasley’s, everything will be explained. We should get a move on before Molly has a nervous breakdown.”
“Okay…Tonks?”
“That’s me,” she said as she made a Portkey from one of Harry text books.
“Is there any chance you could fix my head?” He could now feel blood trickling down his neck.
She looked at him quizzically for a few seconds then must have seen Harry sway alarmingly and realised there was something wrong. She sat him down as she examined his head muttering something like “can’t believe I didn’t even notice…” A few seconds and one spell later Harry’s head was fully healed, though he still had a terrible headache.
“Thanks…can we go now?”
“I think we’ll need to go tell your aunt and uncle”
Harry’s eyes grew wide at the thought of seeing how angry his only living family would be.
“Can’t we just…go?”
Tonks laughed “No. You’ll want to say goodbye as you probably won’t be seeing them ever again.” Harry raised an eyebrow “Maybe not…but we need to go and save Remus from them anyway.” She laughed again. “They weren’t too happy with ‘more freaks blasting into their house and then being imprisoned in their own rooms.’”
“Well would they have been happier to have been blasted into the next universe by Death Eaters?” Harry retorted.
“Come on, you won’t have to talk long…just kind of say: ‘wotcher only living family! I'm just going to go now ‘cause I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here! See ya!’”
Harry laughed, but soon stopped as it hurt his aching head. “They’ll probably swing for me…I could just hex them…not illegally this time…” he joked.
“Yep! Come on, we might as well get this over with…”
So, they made their way to the door. Harry actually couldn’t wait to see how purple his uncle was this time; he’d probably broken some record.
“So, what did you think of my flying skills back their?” Tonks laughed.
“Excellent. You’ve been practicing?”
“Naturally.”
They slowly made their way down the stairs. Harry could now hear his uncle ranting on. Poor Remus Harry thought to himself as he picked his way through the splintered remains of the front door.
As Harry walked into the doorway, he saw his aunt and cousin sat on the sofa, Dudley whimpering like an idiot onto his mummy's shoulder. Harry’s uncle was standing in the middle of the room, still ranting rather loudly, and Remus was sat in a chair staring at his uncle, seemingly paying close attention but his eyes were glazed over.
At this point Vernon seemed to notice Harry and stopped mid sentence to start bellowing:
“OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU OR ANY OF YOUR KIND EVER AGAIN!”
Harry saw red. “Don’t worry, I'm not going to stay! I just want to say thank you for treating me like crap for this last sixteen years, and if you think I want to see this house ever again you would have to be delusional! So goodbye, and I hope I never have to see your ugly face again! Oh, and you can call ‘my lot’ freaks all you like, but those freaks could turn you into a pin cushion faster than you can say Quidditch!” Harry stated. He turned on his heal, stormed back up the stairs, into his bedroom, grabbed the handle of his readily packed trunk and waited for Remus and Tonks. He only had to wait a few seconds and they were in his doorway, grinning like Cheshire cats.
“Nice speech,” Remus commented. Harry chuckled.
“Can we go now?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” said Tonks as she passed him his text book. Harry took it and with a tug at his navel, he was whisked away to The Burrow.
Good to be Home by lisa_lovegood
“Commas enable you to breathe, breathing is your friend.”-Stacey, my best friend :-)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in his world…except Ginny’s door sign...
Chapter Two- Good to be Home
Harry landed miraculously on his feet after his journey by Portkey. Remus and Tonks soon Apparated beside him with one loud crack and a small pop. Unfortunately for Tonks, she didn’t notice Harry’s trunk by her feet, and when she took a step forward, she tripped and went crashing into Harry and sent them both to the floor.
Harry groaned as his head hit the floor, his headache was getting worse.
“Sorry Harry!” squeaked Tonks as she scrambled off him and then glared at Lupin who found it all rather funny.
“It' okay,” mumbled Harry as he took his former teacher's offered hand and got back to his feet. Remus then sent Harry's trunk up to Ron’s bedroom, so he wouldn’t have to carry it.
After he regained his balance once again, Harry finally looked at his surroundings. He was at The Burrow. With its walls that could only stand because of magic, the pen which held hens that where currently sleeping, the orchard, and the vegetable patch which was persistently overrun with garden gnomes. He smiled. This was his real home. This was where he belonged.
“Come on…Molly will be having a cow in there…” muttered Tonks.
So he made his way down the long driveway and towards the house he loved most. The kitchen light was on so Mrs Weasley had obviously stayed up to wait to see if Harry was okay. Not that Harry ever doubted she would.
When they were just reaching the door, it swung open, and one Molly Weasley came running out.
“Oh! Thank Merlin you're okay! Not one message in over an hour! I was so worried…” The rest of her words were muffled with sobs as she swept Harry into a rib cracking hug.
“It's okay Mrs Weasley, I’m okay…” Harry tried to comfort her. Crying women always made him uncomfortable. After a few moments Mrs Weasley seemed satisfied that he was in one piece and ushered everyone inside and into the warm. Mr Weasley was stood in the kitchen, and when he saw Harry he stepped forward to shake his hand and clap him on the shoulder. After putting the kettle on the stove for tea, Mrs Weasley sat down, like everyone else, and looked over at Harry.
“Are you sure you're okay, dear?” she asked kindly. When Harry repeated that he was, she looked at him properly and asked, “Do they ever feed you at your aunt’s house? You’re all skin and bones! Are you hungry, dear? I can whip you something up…”
It wasn’t until then that he noticed how hungry he really was, so he said, “Some soup would be great, Mrs Weasley.”
She smiled and got up to put a put on the cooker and finish the tea. “I think you can stop with all this Mrs Weasley business as you’re of age now! Please, call me Molly”
“And me Arthur.”
Harry grinned. “Okay…Molly, Arthur.”
“Yes! Happy Birthday, Harry!” smiled Remus. “I unfortunately left head quarters in quite a hurry, so your present is still there. I’ll come back 'round later to give it you.”
“Hey! It’s from both of us if you don’t mind” Tonks teased.
Remus laughed. Harry hadn’t seen his former teacher this happy in a long time. He even looked younger. Harry smiled. Yes, he mused being with Tonks is doing him good.
Harry was interrupted from his thoughts by Molly placing a cup of tea, a bowl of onion soup and a large slice of bread in front of him.
“Thanks, Molly” said Harry as he started spooning hot soup into his mouth.
“You’re welcome, dear, now eat up.”
“So, what happened? I mean, I know what happened, but how did the Death Eaters know where I was and how did you know that I was in trouble?” Harry questioned.
“Well,” started Remus, “Tonks was on your guard duty tonight so; she was at Figgy’s house-”
“-Yes, and I have to say that your guard duty is very boring when you have to make small talk about cats all night with her, I don’t even like cats!” cut in Tonks.
Remus, Arthur and Harry chuckled and Molly smiled at Tonks' antics. “Yes…well as I was saying,” continued Remus with a smile. “Tonks was on guard. At about-”
“-Quarter past twelve all the street lights in Privet Drive went out, and I heard three people Apparate, so I obviously thought something was up. I sent a message to headquarters and one here saying that Harry will probably be home quite early,” Tonks woman explained.
“So, Moody, Kingsley and Remus Apparated to Figgy’s straight away ‘cause they were at Grimmauld Place so they got my message. We decided that I will go up on my broom to your window, and the other three will go inside. So I fly up and look through Harry’s bedroom window, and there was Harry flying through the air and three Death Eaters in front of him-”
After hearing this, Molly let out a sort of, scream-gasp and started flapping over Harry, checking his head and getting a potion for headaches, which he was grateful for.
“So I smashed the window and stunned one, as Remus, Kingsley and Moody got there and knocked the other two out,” continued Tonks.
Remus then cut in “So Moody and Kingsley took the Death Eaters, who were Bellatrix Lestrange, Crabbe and Goyle, to Azkaban. Nymphadora-”
“Tonks!” She elbowed him in the side.
“So Tonks went to wake Harry, and I went to calm down the Dursleys.”
“And after a goodbye speech that will go down in history, we came here.”
There was a pause where everyone was lost in thought then something occurred to Harry that made him grin.
“What?” asked Remus when he noticed Harry’s smile.
“Bellatrix is in Azkaban”
Remus smiled “It’s where she belongs.”
“Too right!” interjected Tonks.
Harry thought for a second. “Why did Voldemort only send three Death Eaters? I mean, I have the whole Order protecting me, he knows that. Why not send more just to be sure? And why send Bellatrix? She’s one of his most loyal supporters. He won’t be happy with her getting sent to Azkaban!”
Everyone looked thoughtful for a moment. Then Arthur said, “He probably only sent three Death Eaters, one of them being Bellatrix, because he may have thought the Order of the Phoenix will be in disrepair after Dumbledore’s death.”
Harry’s stomach clenched at the mention of his late headmaster. He tried to keep himself from showing it so he said, “So…the Order is okay?”
“Yes, the Order's fine. Minerva is the new leader,” Remus replied.
There were another few minutes of silence where everyone sipped their tea, and Harry finished his soup. Harry soon had to stifle a yawn behind his hand.
“Bed. Now,” stated Molly as she stood up and directed all the empty mugs and plates towards the sink.
Harry complied and bade everyone goodnight. He slowly made his way up the many stairs of The Burrow, pausing outside the door marked with a sign that read: Ginny’s room, stay out or DIE! Harry felt something pull at his heart strings as he watched the picture of a snitch, which decorated the sign, fly around the word DIE!
It’s all for her own good…Harry thought as he continued up another flight of stairs to Ron’s bedroom in the attic. As he opened the door, the sound of Ron’s snores filled his ears and Harry smiled. It’s good to be home. He shut the door behind him, got into bed and promptly fell asleep.
Author's Notes: I apologise for the shotness of these first chapters. From now on, I'm aiming for 4,000 or more words per chapter. Review and tell me what YOU think!
Lisa xxx
Photo albums, Cameras and the Oak Tree by lisa_lovegood
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anything Harry Potter it all belongs to that Magical writer J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Three - Photo albums, Cameras and the Oak Tree
Harry woke when a red haired, seventeen-year-old boy tripped over his legs and ended up sprawled out on the floor with a yelp.
“Bloody hell, Harry. I didn’t know you where here already!”
“Long story,” Harry mumbled from under his pillow, which he had stuffed his head under. “Basically, Privet Drive got attacked by some Death Eaters, so Tonks, Remus, Kingsley and Moody came, stopped them and sent Lestrange, Crabbe and Goyle to Azkaban, and I came here.”
There was a silence, so Harry pulled his head out, and looked up. Ron was staring at him with his mouth hanging open in astonishment. His mouth was opening and closing so he looked strangely like a red headed, freckled fish out of water. After a few seconds of this, he finally managed to splutter out one word.
“Wow.”
Harry chuckled. “So…what have you been up to lately?”
“I have to admit, nothing as exciting as you, but we’ve had mum flapping all over the place with wedding plans, Fleur flapping all over the place with wedding plans, Bill…well Bill has been kind of forced into wedding plans. It’s on the seventh, the wedding. Mum's going mental, so it’s been pretty busy…oh! Happy birthday Harry! Your present is somewhere around here…” Ron went rummaging through the tip that was his bedroom and eventually found what he was looking for. “Happy birthday, mate. It’s really from Hermione and me, but she can’t be here until Wednesday so she said give it to you today and wish you a happy birthday from her as well. So, from Hermione: happy birthday.”
Harry took the roughly wrapped present and ripped open the bright orange Chudley Cannons paper. Inside was a photo album with a navy blue leather cover and on the front, in gold letters were Harry’s initials: HJP. Harry opened the cover and on the inside page in blue ink was Hermione’s neat writing;
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday! Seventeen at last! Ron and I where thinking about what we could get you for your birthday, so we came up with this idea. It’s a photo album, firstly (with much help from Remus) of your mum and dad when they where in Hogwarts. Secondly, it’s a photo album of our past years at Hogwarts plus there are lots more spaces for more photos of the future!
Your friends,
Hermione and Ron.
Harry smiled and turned the page. The first photo was a Muggle picture of a red haired, green eyed little girl, of around eleven-years-old, in her Hogwarts uniform. There was a caption underneath: Lily Evans, First-year. Harry looked up at Ron who was watching him.
Now Harry was lost for words.
“Thanks, Ron… This is an amazing present.”
Ron grinned. “So who’s up for breakfast? I’m starving.”
*
Ron belched loudly.
“Ronald! Not at the table, please.”
“Sorry, mum.”
Half an hour later Harry and Ron had finished with their breakfasts of bacon, eggs, toast, black pudding and sausages and where now officially stuffed.
”Thanks Mrs - Molly” Harry corrected himself. “That was the best meal I’ve had in a month.”
“You’re quite all right, Harry. Besides, you look like you haven’t eaten at all in a month! Please, have some more sausages.”
So Harry took his fifth sausage of the morning from the pan. When he was finished, Molly enchanted the dishes to wash their selves and then sat down with the two boys.
They made small talk for a while, mostly Ron asking questions about the attack on Harry and the Dursley’s. It wasn’t until then that Harry noticed how empty The Burrow was, as there only seemed to be the three of them.
When Harry asked, Molly replied, “Arthur is at work, Fleur and Bill are out shopping for table cloths, Charlie is still in Romania, Fred and George are at that shop of theirs and Ginny,” something in Harry stomach squirmed “- is still in bed! I should be waking her up around now, or she’ll be asleep all day.” She rose from the table and went upstairs. Harry could feel Ron’s eyes burning into him but Harry kept his eyes stubbornly on a knot on the old kitchen table. He had told Ron and Hermione that he had split up with Ginny on the train back to Kings Cross when she didn’t join him for the ride.
Ron opened his mouth to say something just as Molly came back down the stairs muttering: “Could sleep for England that girl…” So he clamped his mouth shut again.
A few minutes passed in silence as Molly started yet more bacon and eggs, though in slightly less volume, for Ginny. Harry soon heard footsteps coming down the rickety stairs. He looked up as she appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hair in a messy bun, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of red checked pyjama bottoms that were so big for her, the only part of her feet you could see where her toes.
When she spotted Harry, her eyes went wide and he could tell by her face that she was fighting a blush. She seemed to put up a good fight but couldn’t stop her cheeks from turning a shade pinker.
“Ha-Harry?” she stammered, “What are you doing here? I mean, when did you get here?”
So Harry managed to tell her the whole story of the night before and she was just as shocked as Ron had been. By now she was sat opposite Harry, looking at him with wide eyes.
“So Bellatrix is in Azkaban? That’s great!”
“Yeah, it is.”
“There you go, dear,” said Molly as she placed a plate full of breakfast in front of Ginny.
“Thanks, mum. Do you know when my robes are being fitted? I mean, she’s leaving it a bit late isn’t she?”
“The day after tomorrow at a ‘sweet little robe makers’ in Paris-”
“Paris! Why in Paris?”
Molly sighed. “Well, according to Fleur, Paris is the only place to get a wedding dress from, and apparently the designs here are ‘too English’”
“The designs are too English?” Ginny scoffed. “She’s off her rocker!”
“Ginny!” Molly scolded, “She’s not off her rocker, so don’t be so rude!”
Harry had to hold back a chuckle. The Weasley’s where such a great family: they could talk like this; they could have fun. It was just normal things like this that made Harry wonder what it would have been like to grow up with his mum and dad, maybe brothers or sisters. It didn’t really upset him or make him jealous; just curious. You can’t miss what you’ve never had.
*
Later that day, Remus and Tonks turned up as they said they would, with their present. As Harry ripped off the paper, he revealed a small mahogany box. He opened it, and a flash of gold flew out. With his reflexes from Quidditch, Harry plucked it out of the air. To his surprise, it was a Snitch. He held the small, walnut sized ball in his hand, its slender wings struggling against his hold. As he looked closer, he saw that two initials had been engraved into the gold surface: J.P. He grinned at Remus and Tonks.
“J.P…? Is that…James Potter?”
“Certainly is, I found it the other day when Tonks and I were cleaning out my-”
“-Pig sty,” cut in Tonks
“And we came across this. It was probably one of those James stole when he was at Hogwarts, and it somehow was left with me and I haven’t found it until now.”
At this point, the fire burst into emerald flames and Fleur Delacour appeared. When the flames died down she stepped neatly out of the grate, dusting herself off and flicking her silver blonde hair.
“‘Ello! Oh, ‘arry! 'Ow are you? We 'eared about the Death Eaters and the Dursleez! ‘Ow ‘orrible!” she said in her throaty French accent, “'Appy birthday! Bill 'as your present with 'im. 'E should be ‘ere any second.”
And perfectly on queue, the fire place was lit by green flames again.
“Hi, everyone,” greeted Bill as he stepped out of the fireplace. His face was still terribly scarred; there was a long slash from his left temple to the top of his right jaw and another slash from just below his right eye to his chin. Even though his face may have been disfigured, he still wore his long Weasley hair in a pony tail and his usual earring.
“Happy birthday, Harry. I’ve got your present with me somewhere…” He rummaged around in several pockets of his robes and shopping bags, much like his youngest brother. Eventually he pulled out a square package, and handed it to Harry.
As he took it, he was quite surprised at how light it was. He tore off the silver paper to find an oak box, with runes that Harry could not understand, engraved onto it. Then Bill spoke up.
“It’s a box that’s charmed to hold anything. Any object of any weight or size could fit in there and once you close the lid, you won’t feel the weight difference at all. And it can be shrunk so you could carry absolutely anything in your pocket.”
“Wow, that’s great! Thank you.”
“Eet is quite all right! Eet is your birthday after all!” said Fleur after this, she swooped down and kissed him on both cheeks.
“Seeing as your opening presents now, here you go, Harry.”
“Thanks, Molly,” Harry said as he took the rather large and oddly shaped present from her. He again, peeled off the wrapping paper to find a camera much like the once Colin Creevey owned, sitting in his hands. He looked up at her, now smiling face and thanked her again.
“It’s fine dear! Ron told Arthur and me about that photo album he and Hermione were compiling and we thought you don’t have a camera to continue to fill it so here we are.”
Harry had noticed Ginny disappeared upstairs a few hours ago to get dressed and hadn’t come back down again. Just as he finished this thought, Ginny appeared at the bottom of the stairs with a gift, wrapped in green paper. As she approached him, she had a strange look in her eyes and gave him his present silently. He saw Ron give her a quizzical look, but Ginny just ignored him.
Harry quietly opened the emerald wrapping to reveal small book titled Defence: How to Really Protect You. Harry smiled; it was just like her, as she knew his favourite subject, minus last year, was Defence Against the Dark Arts and that he thought any advice the Ministry was giving was a load of rubbish. Also, Harry really was in biggest need of protecting himself.
“Thanks, Ginny,” Harry said.
“Don’t mention it,” she replied, dropping his gaze.
“Remus, Tonks you can stay for dinner if you would like. We’re eating in an hour or two,” said Mrs Weasley.
“Sure, we’d love to. No one can beat your cooking, Molly,” complimented Remus.
“That will mean we’ll have to eat in the garden as Charlie’s due back soon from Romania, the twins are coming over and there will also be Harry, Ron, Ginny, Arthur and myself,” Molly said, more to herself than anyone else. “Kids, go find something to do for a while.”
The teenagers obliged and walked out into the garden. There was a rather awkward silence between Harry and Ginny. The three of them sat down under a large oak tree right next to the pond. Harry sat with his back against the solid bark, Ron laid down in the shade and Ginny removed her shoes and socks, rolled up her jeans to her knees and dipped her feet on the cool, clear water.
It was a hot day and there was a warm breeze playing across his face. It reminded Harry, for some reason, of Dumbledore’s funeral. He had been attempting to push all terrible and depressing thoughts out of his head during his stay with the Dursley’s. But this was rather hard when he had Dumbledore’s death, break up with Ginny, and his mission to find the Horcruxes and then kill Voldemort spinning round his mind. So now Harry yet again, pushed all these troubled thoughts from his mind and decided to go get his photo album and look through it.
He got up and walked towards the back door, which lead to the kitchen. As he approached, voices from the inside filtered through. When he got to it, he could hear the voice of Tonks.
“- he okay? I mean, with Albus' death, how is he coping? Last night he seemed to want to avoid the subject of him altogether.”
Harry knew straight away they where talking about him.
“Well, he’ll be holding it all in, but did you really expect anything less? He’ll probably tell Ron and Hermione about it in his own time,” Arthur explained.
Harry inwardly cheered for him. He would talk about it when he was ready, and when he had sorted out all his feelings and thoughts in his own head.
“What was he doing anyway, with Dumbledore that night?” asked Bill.
“No one knows, only Harry and Dumbledore,” said Remus, “He wouldn’t even tell Minerva.”
“’Eet could 'ave been to do with You-Know-'Ou,” added Fleur.
Harry decided not to let them ponder on that thought and opened the door. All eyes were on him; Harry gave them all a small smile that said ‘I didn’t hear a thing’ and walked past them and up the stairs to Ron’s room to collect his photo album.
Once he was back under the shade of the tree, Harry opened the leather cover and looked at the photo of his mother again. He then moved onto the next picture. It was a moving picture of a boy who looked shockingly like himself at eleven-years-old, laughing and looking very proud to be wearing his Hogwarts uniform. The only difference was their eyes. His being hazel, rather than green. Underneath, the caption read: James Potter, First-year.
The third picture was, unmistakeably, the Marauders, next to the lake at Hogwarts, generally goofing around for the picture. Flashing cheesy grins and slinging there arms around their best friends shoulders. Harry felt a stab of anger when looking at the young, chubby face of Peter Pettigrew. Did he know what he would do to his best friend’s lives? The caption read: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, Second-year.
The fourth photo was of three girls, one of which was Lily. The other two girls Harry had the feeling he’d seen them before, though he wasn’t sure. One had bright blonde hair and big, dark blue eyes. She was much taller than Lily and the other girl and very slim. The last witch being slightly shorter than Lily, had, short, spiky hair, which was black, but when it caught the light, it flashed the deepest purple. She had warm, friendly brown eyes and a cheeky smile. Underneath it read: Lily Evans, Leanna Williams and Asher Crellin: Second-year.
“Ron!” Harry shouted over to his best mate, who had started snoring then quickly jerked awake and looked around at his surroundings saying, “What?”
“I was wondering, who are these girls in this photo?”
Ron got up and looked at the photo.
“They were your mum’s friends at Hogwarts, that’s all Lupin said when he gave us it.”
“What happened to them? I’ve never met them.”
“I don’t know. You should ask Lupin.”
“Okay.”
As Harry turned the next page, Molly shouted from the kitchen to come and help set up the table. Ron got up and started towards The Burrow. Harry closed the book and looked over at Ginny. She had taken her feet out on the water and lay down. She had fallen asleep in the warm sun and looked absolutely beautiful in Harry's opinion, her pale skin glowing in the light and fiery locks in absolute contrast.
He walked over and kneeled beside her. He gently shook her shoulder, her eyes fluttered, and she groaned.
Harry laughed. “Ginny, wake up!” At the sound of his voice her eyes snapped open, and she looked directly into his eyes. The moment seemed to last forever, and Harry got a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach. She sat up so her head was level to his, without breaking eye contact or even saying anything. Harry wanted to kiss her so badly, to tell her ‘I give up! You can have me!’ As their heads slowly leaned closer, something snapped in Harry’s brain and he realised what he was doing. He quickly broke eye contact and stood.
“Err…your mum needs our help,” he said quickly and offered is hand to help her up.
*
“Can I just take this moment to wish Harry a very happy seventeenth birthday, and may you enjoy your new found manhood!” announced Arthur after everyone had finished eating.
“Here-here!” chorused Fred and George who had arrived seconds before dinner had started and presented Harry with their present of a large basket of their own merchandise and a large bottle of Firewhisky.
Molly soon reappeared from the kitchen with the largest birthday cake Harry had ever seen in his life, and everyone found this their queue to start singing “happy birthday” to him. As she placed it in front of him, Harry saw it was covered in little bronze snitches that flew around the light blue background. In writing that flashed different colours was: Happy Birthday, Harry! It had seventeen candles lit on top of it.
“…happy birthday to you!” Everyone had just finished singing and it was time to make a wish…Please let everyone I care about get out of this war without harm…Harry blew out the candles, and his wish was sealed.
“What did you wish for?” asked Fred immediately.
“He can’t tell you, idiot or else it won’t come true,” laughed Charlie. He had arrived as Harry came through the kitchen doors from the garden with Ginny. He opened his present to find a pair of jet black, dragon hide boots. According to Charlie, dragon hide was the strongest and warmest material you can make into boots and very good for winter. Harry found they can also be worn on summer evenings like this one without too much discomfort.
Soon everyone was chatting away to each other. Ginny, who somehow got sat next to Harry, hadn’t said a word to him since their incident by the pond and currently was turned away from him, talking to Bill. Harry turned away from her and started conversation with Remus.
“How are you getting along then, Harry? And don’t say ‘I’m fine’ because you’re a no better liar than James,” Remus said frankly.
“I’m…okay. No, I really am. I just…oh I don’t know…” Harry trailed off. He really didn’t know how he was feeling. He couldn’t tell Remus half of what he was really feeling…could he?
Remus gave him a sympathetic look that Harry hated.
“Please don’t feel sorry for me, Remus. I’m not the only one who misses him. I saw how you reacted when you found out about…well maybe you’re just better at sorting your head out than I am.”
“I’m no better at sorting out my thoughts than you are. I just share them with someone.” He glanced at Tonks. “You can’t hold everything in, Harry. It's not healthy! I should know.”
Harry stared at the tablecloth in front of him, deep in thought. He couldn’t tell Remus could he? Well, why not? Now that the idea was in his head, he felt the urge to act upon it. He was his father’s best friend; Sirius’ best friend…Harry just knew he would understand. But Harry already had people who understood; Ron and Hermione. He almost felt that Remus had a right to know somehow…He was excellent at defending himself, so he could help him. Stop right there! You can’t get anyone else involved in this! A voice shouted in the back of his head.
“Harry?”
His head shot up. Apparently Remus could see some inner conflict in Harry’s face.
“Is there something wrong?”
Harry looked into the older man's face for a long minute and made a decision.
“Remus…can I talk to you…in private?”
Harry noticed Ron stopped talking mid sentence and looked at him. Harry gave him a significant look.
“Yes, okay.”
Harry got up, as did Remus and the walked across the garden and to the pond. Harry sat down on the bank and Remus sat next to him. There was a long silence where Harry collected his thoughts. Remus didn’t interrupt him but waited patiently, looking at the now brightly shining half moon. Harry soon decided where to start.
“Did you ever know why my parents went into hiding?”
Remus slowly shook his head, his face deadly serious. “All we ever knew is that you where in danger and could be attacked by Voldemort at any time. We didn’t know why.”
“Well, the reason is…is that, just before I was born, a prophecy was made. That’s what the Death Eaters were after at the Hall of Prophecies last year, because Voldemort didn’t hear the whole thing.” Harry paused, trying to think of a way to word this. He decided just to say the whole thing. The words were imprinted on his mind forever.
“What did the Prophecy say?” Remus asked even though he sounded like he was preparing for the worst.
Harry took a deep breath. “'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…'” Harry didn’t want to look at the older man's face. He stared out over the glassy water. “'And either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, will be born as the seventh month dies…'”
There was silence for a long time. Harry felt Remus’ eyes on him. He met them, and he was surprised at what he saw there. Pride and absolute confidence was what he could see.
“You can beat him, Harry. I know you can. You may not believe it yourself, but you’re on the right side. You’re on the good side.”
Harry remained silent and cast his eyes down.
“Harry, look at me, you have been forced to grow up so much in only seventeen years. You’ve defied Voldemort, what, five times now? I have all my confidence in you.” He paused and looked thoughtful for a while.
“Love.” It seemed more of a statement that any sort of question.
“What?”
“Love, that’s your ‘power the Dark Lord knows not’.”
Harry couldn’t help but grin. “Well, you sure got it quicker than me!”
“I suppose that’s because you don’t know you from an outsider’s perspective. Many people, if they were put in your position, would find it impossible to love. But you still can.”
There was yet another pause. Harry felt better. He was glad that he had told Remus. Something was telling him he would be a big help.
“There’s something else as well,” Harry said.
Remus gave him a quizzical look.
“It’s about why Voldemort didn’t die the night my parents did…” So Harry explained everything he knew about the Horcruxes and his mother's protection that sent the killing curse back at Voldemort. After Harry finished, Remus looked slightly stunned with all this new information. More shocked than he was at the prophecy, but Harry had a feeling Remus worked out it would come down to himself and Voldemort some time ago.
“So, Voldemort made six Horcruxes?” He looked slightly repulsed at the thought of it.
Harry nodded.
“And either two or three are destroyed?”
Harry nodded again.
“And we know what they all are, except one.”
“Yes.”
Remus took a deep breath. “Wow.”
“That’s what I thought.”
After a moment of just listening to the breeze sweep around the leaves of the tree above him, Harry stood. “You coming?”
“Yes…Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for telling me. It really means a lot.”
“It’s fine. I feel better for telling you for some reason,” Harry said voicing his thoughts. “Plus, you're really good at defence charms and everything so there’s always that,” Harry joked.
“So you’re using me for my skills are you?” said Remus playing along as the walked back to the house
“Of course I am,” chuckled Harry, glad the mood between them had clearly brightened.
They had reached the door now and walked through it to find Tonks, Arthur and Molly at the Kitchen table.
“Night, everyone,” Harry said as he turned for the stairs to try and get some sleep. It had been a great birthday. He was finding it quite hard to believe just less than twenty four hours ago, the Dursleys were being attacked by Death Eaters.
Author's Notes:Its up! Its finally up! Id like to say a big thanks to AstroFire and hpnut for Reading and Reviewing, not Reading and Running. Also, Stacey(_HermioneGranger_) for proof reading again! Whats your fave line so far? Do you have one? Who just loved the h/g moment? ;-) lol well i love a h/g moment of any sorts, even ones as rubbish as mine! Please Review!!
Lisa xxx :D
A day in Diagon Ally by lisa_lovegood
Disclaimer: It’s all JKR’s.
Chapter Four- A day in Diagon Alley
Harry woke. He hadn’t slept too well last night. Everything had been spinning around his head again. This time he didn’t push it out, this time he thought about what he had to do and how he was going to do it. He still wasn’t too happy with Ron and Hermione coming with him, but he knew there was no stopping them. And then he thought about the Horcruxes themselves. What did he know already? The diary, ring and maybe the locket were destroyed. He still had to find the cup, snake and some object that once belonged to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. He also needed to find out how to destroy them, as Dumbledore had never got the chance to tell him. Then, his thoughts moved onto Ginny. Was he doing the right thing, leaving her? He sure didn’t want to, and she didn’t seem too cheerful about it either, but he knew he had to as she wasn’t safe with him. No one was really. He had argued with himself for hours, and eventually, he fell asleep.
Even in his dreams, he couldn’t get any real rest. His head kept swimming with memories of his past six years at Hogwarts. Some were good, and some were bad, but all were like seeing his life through a window of sorts. Like through a Muggle TV. He remembered meeting Hagrid, Ron and Hermione, his first Quidditch match, the Mirror of Erised, Quirrel, the Philosophers Stone, seeing Voldemort, Dobby, the car journey with Ron to school, the messages on the walls, the chamber of secrets and saving Ginny with Ron… the list goes on. He also dreamt of the night Dumbledore died, being trapped in his own body, being forced to watch his greatest mentor and his friend being murdered by a man Dumbledore trusted. Harry’s hate for Snape ran through his veins and through his heart.
All the troubles Harry had when he was younger and lived with the Dursleys, like being bullied by Dudley and being mistreated by his aunt and uncle, seemed so insignificant now. Now he knew what real pain was. Pain was when you loose something that you thought would be there forever. Pain is when you are so sick and tired of having to fight all the time, you just want to give up, even when you know you can’t. Pain was when you are forced to give up the things you love. Pain was all Harry felt during the cool, dark nights when he had nothing else on his mind.
But when he really thought about it, his life wasn’t all bad. He had Ron and Hermione who were like family to him. The Weasleys had more or less adopted him. He had Remus and Tonks. He had his friends at Hogwarts. He had the Order. All these people believed in him, and he was eternally grateful for that. He knew he had them behind him if he ever needed them, and he knew they would be there at the final battle. It was then that Harry realised he wasn’t alone in this war. It wasn’t just him and Voldemort. Voldemort had made sure he had people on his side. And Harry would do the same; he would be forced to do the same.
Once he finished this thought, a warm breeze whipped around his face and ruffled his hair even though the window wasn’t open. And he knew, though he wasn’t quite sure how, that someone had heard his thoughts, and they were proud of him.
Harry looked over at Ron’s Chudley Cannon clock and saw that it was ten to six in the morning. The sun was just rising and was setting a dull orange glow over everything, especially Ron’s bedroom which was already tangerine. Sleep wasn’t coming back to Harry. He knew it wouldn’t, so instead of lying here for hours, he got up.
He opened the door as quietly as he could and shut it behind him. Harry slowly made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. Looking out of the window, Harry saw the rise of a new day, a soft palette of orange, pink and yellow shining across the perfectly clear sky.
Hermione was arriving today. According to the letter he and Ron received yesterday, she was Apparating to The Burrow at around eleven, and then later, they were taking a trip to Diagon Ally to do their robe shopping for the wedding. Ginny had her bridesmaids dress fitted in Paris as planned by Fleur. According to her, it was the most boring five hours of her life, as she had tried on all the robes in the shop, and then Fleur decided to get the set she tried on first. Harry had made sure not to get himself into any situations that would include him being alone with Ginny, or his feelings may get the better of him.
He made himself a cup of hot tea; took it outside, sat on the porch step and sipped. It was just getting warm; even though it was only six in the morning he removed his t-shirt and let the sun light hit his bare skin. He was very comfortable on his seat, so he didn’t realise how long he had been sat there when he heard movement from inside the kitchen. Presuming it was only Molly, Harry walked straight in, not bothering to put his t-shirt back on. It was rather a shock when he found Ginny with her back to him making herself breakfast. Uh-oh. As she turned round, it was clear she hadn’t noticed Harry, as she jumped and dropped her plate. Harry had to stifle a chuckle as he walked over to help her clean up. She had gone rather pink and was laughing at herself.
“I haven’t done that since before my third-year,” she said between giggles.
Her laugh was infectious, and Harry couldn’t help but join her. She yelped as she cut her finger on a piece of broken china.
“Ouch!”
Harry looked up and found himself looking at her again. She looked so amazing, as always, even first thing in the morning. Harry was snapped back to reality when she asked him something.
“What?”
“I said can you get me bandage please.”
Harry had soon found his way around the Weasley’s kitchen, with much help from Molly, so he knew where to go with out getting lost. Most of the time.
“Here you go,” he said, giving her the material.
She tried tying it round her own finger, something that wasn’t working for her.
“Here, let me,” Harry offered and took her hand and gently tied her bleeding finger. “That should last until your mum can fix it.
“Thanks.”
It was then that Harry realised how early Ginny was up, usually she had to be woken up. He asked her about it when he finished clearing up the broken plate, and Ginny was making bacon for both of them.
“Oh, I don’t know…” she trailed off.
Harry wasn’t convinced “Ginny? Is everything all right?”
“I’m fine, never better,” She said, a little too quickly.
“There is something wrong. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re never up this early.”
She was silent for a while. She then murmured something that Harry didn’t quite catch.
“What was that?”
“I said I had nightmares.”
“What type of nightmares? What are they about?” asked Harry, curious.
“There about…” She took a deep breath. "There about Tom in the Chamber. I get them sometimes, and it’s like, is like being there with him again, but this time you don’t come…and…and…” Her long hair was keeping her face from view. Harry was shocked; he’d never really thought about how much Tom effects her still after four years. Harry’s hatred for Lord Voldemort increased.
“Ginny?”
She sniffed, cleared her throat and brushed her hair from her face. “I’m sorry, I’m being an idiot. They're only dreams, they're not real. It’s just my imagination but they…”
“Feel so real,” Harry finished for her. She looked up at him, questions in her eyes. The sudden recognition came to her and she started apologising
“Oh, Merlin, Harry. I’m sorry! Here’s me going on about nightmare when you-”
Harry had to laugh at her flushed face. “Calm down! It's okay, you are aloud to talk about nightmares whether I have them or not.”
She smiled sheepishly at him. “Sorry. I’ll just shut up now anyways.”
Harry made more tea as Ginny finished the bacon. They heard footsteps on the stairs, and Molly soon joined them. And she stared at Ginny with a concerned look on her face.
“Are you okay, Ginny?”
“Yes, I’m fine, mum.”
“Why are you up so early this morning?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I just woke up…”
Molly didn’t look convinced but dropped the subject.
“Can you please get that t-shirt off the table.” Molly went outside to feed the chickens. Molly had started treating Harry like her seventh son, rather than a guest at their house. It was rather odd for Harry, to be treated this way, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. It must have been then that Ginny realise Harry's clothing, or lack thereof, and blushed.
“Why didn’t you tell your mum-” Harry started as he did as Molly ordered, but was cut off by Ginny.
“Because it only upsets her, and she’s got enough on her plate right now.”
“But-” He was cut off again by the door opening.
“Any bacon or tea, mum?”
“No bacon for me, but tea would be lovely.”
He placed three mugs of tea on the table, and Ginny placed the breakfasts in front of herself and Harry.
*
Harry was playing with his Snitch on the front porch of The Burrow. They were waiting for Hermione to arrive and were trying to pass the time. Ron was sat in between his best friend and sister. He was watching Harry’s progress with the small ball without much interest, but Ginny was slightly bothered by it.
“Do you have any idea how annoying that is, Harry?” Ginny questioned, her teeth clenched.
“No, I wasn’t aware that it was annoying at all,” said Harry mildly, though the laughter was evident in his eyes.
“If you catch that thing one more time, I’ll shove it-”
The rest of her sentence was interrupted by the pop of someone Apparating.
“Hermione!” Ginny yelled excitedly, and ran over to the curly haired brunette and hugged her.
Harry put his Snitch in his pocket, and Ron ran his fingers through his hair. Ron had been curiously nervous all morning since Harry reminded him of Hermione’s arrival.
Harry was soon attacked by a bush of brown hair. “Harry! How are you? Have you grown again? God, you have to stop, you make me look small!”
“Hey! Don’t complain! I’m smaller than you!” interjected Ginny.
“And Ron’s taller than me,” Harry added.
Hermione hugged Ron as well but when she pulled away, they both had a slight pink tinge to their faces and couldn’t meet each other's eyes. The door swung open to reveal Molly.
“Oh, Hermione, you’re here! Come in, come in.” She ushered her inside and sent her trunk up to Ginny’s room, where she was sleeping.
The four teenagers sat down at the table. Hermione glanced at Harry and Ginny who, again, somehow managed to get sat next to him, but said nothing. Neither of them had mentioned anything from their conversation earlier that morning.
“How was your holiday, Hermione?” asked Ginny.
“Oh! Greece was brilliant! I love the Mediterranean food. And those Ancient Ruins we went to see where so interesting…” Hermione babbled on like this for a few minutes, until she abruptly changed the subject.
“How are you, Harry?” She gave him a sympathetic look. Those sorts of looks really got on his nerves.
“Yes, Hermione, I am fine,” he said in a forced calm voice.
Ron must have thought this as the time to cut in. “Who’s coming outside?”
Everyone got up from the table and into the hot sun.
*
“I’d love to have a garden like this. Mine at home is really small,” said Hermione, gazing around at the Weasley’s land with a far-off look on her face.
“Anything is really small compared to this,” laughed Harry.
They were sat by the pond again; it had turned into a regular thing. All four of them had dipped their feet into the fresh water.
“To me, The Burrow is just…home. I can go and live at Hogwarts all year, and The Burrow will still be my home, still the place I’d come back to. I’ll be really sad to leave it,” Ginny said thoughtfully.
“Ron, Ginny, Harry, Hermione! We’re leaving in ten seconds so get yourselves in here!” Harry heard molly shout.
The quartet walked back to the house to find Molly and Arthur, who had got time off work, in front of the fireplace; travelling cloaks in hand, ready to go.
“I’ll go first, then Hermione, Ginny, Ron then Harry. Molly will come last,” said Arthur.
They all took a pinch of floo powder and shouted their desired destination in turn. When Harry stopped spinning, he found himself in The Leaky Cauldron. It was as empty as it had been his last visit. When Molly came into view, the group made their way into Diagon Alley. The street was an array of greys and blacks. The people that where in the streets hurried from one shop to another, not stopping and talking to fellow shoppers or browsing the shop windows. The once inviting place looked dismal and depressed, as if even the cobbles on the street floor could feel the dark mood that had encompassed the nation.
As they walked down the street at a quick pace, Harry could feel the presence of someone behind him, but when he looked around there was no one there. When they were nearly at Madam Malkins, Harry heard the splash like someone stepping in a puddle, then someone cursing under their breath. Harry wheeled around but still, could see nothing.
“Are you okay, Harry?” asked Hermione, sounding worried.
“Yeah…I’m fine…” He ripped his eyes away from the piece of air in front of him and continued. His senses where heightened, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He could still feel someone's eyes on him. When he heard the flap of a cloak from directly behind him; Harry spun around, grabbed for where an average persons throat would be, slammed the invisible body into the nearby wall and ripped of an invisibility cloak. In front of him was Nymphadora Tonks, eyes wide and looking more than a little shocked.
Harry hand sprung away from where he was holding her by the throat.
“Please tell me you’re my guard?”
“I was. I told you I’m not good at the discreet thing. Oh, what exciting things happen when I’m on guard!” she said sarcastically as she rubbed her neck.
Harry laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t call them exciting.” He looked around to find Ginny, Ron and Hermione also laughing, but Molly and Arthur looked worried.
The latter looked around the street and asked, “Where are the rest of them?”
Tonks shrugged, “I don’t know; we all split up. I just said I’d follow under the invisibility cloak.”
The adults nodded and carried on their way, Tonks disappeared down a nearby alleyway. The teens followed Arthur and Molly.
“How did you do that?” asked Ron, sounding impressed.
“Do what? Know she was there? I don’t know…I could just sense someone behind me, then she stepped in a puddle, then I heard her cloak rustle.”
They had now arrived at the robe shop. Molly took Ginny and Hermione to one side, and Arthur took the boys to the other.
An hour later, six people emerged from the robe makers, five of them with shopping bags.
“What ne-” Harry didn’t finish his sentence as he had just spotted someone wearing purple robes putting up posters with a lot of photographs on them. He ran over and asked for one. When he looked at it his face went pale.
“What is it?” asked Ginny. Hermione gasped, and Ron cursed. On the Ministry leaflet was the word WANTED in large purple writing, and underneath where pictures of every Death Eater Harry knew to be in Azkaban.
“Have they all escaped?” Harry croaked, though he was pretty sure of the answer.
“Yeah, it ‘appened this mornin’. Word is that two of’ guards were killed.” said the short blonde haired Ministry official through a think cockney accent.
Harry closed his eyes for a second, and then looked over at the Weasley parents. Molly looked shocked and pale; Arthur looked deeply troubled, but thoughtful.
“I think we should go now,” he said, “If there are Death Eaters on the loose.”
“Yes, come on, let’s go,” agreed Molly.
They swiftly made their way back down the street.
“Oh crap!”
“Language, Ginny!” scolded Molly.
“Sorry, mum. I left my purse in the shop.”
Molly looked nervous about letting her daughter go anywhere on her own.
“Well...take someone with you to go get it.”
“I don’t need a mentor to walk down a street.”
“Ginny.”
“Oh fine. Harry?”
“Yes?” he said, glancing at Molly.
She rolled her eyes, gave Harry's bag to her mum and grabbed his wrist. “Apparently I need a mentor. Go ahead without us, we’ll be ten seconds.”
Molly looked uneasy.
“Be careful,” she said and ushered everyone into the Leaky Cauldron and back to The Burrow.
It started raining. “Well this day is getting better and better,” remarked Ginny.
Harry was still troubled about the Death Eaters. Voldemort was getting ready, and Harry was nowhere near ready for and kind of battle with Voldemort. Ginny was taking to him but he wasn’t really paying attention.
“Harry? Harry!”
Harry looked behind him. Ginny was standing outside Madam Malkins, which Harry had walked strait past. He started laughing.
“Sorry about that.”
Ginny giggled. “It’s okay.”
They walked into the robe shop and, sure enough, there was Ginny’s blue purse on a stool in the changing rooms.
Once they where outside again, there was an almighty BOOM and dust and debris were flying everywhere. Ginny screamed; Harry's heart jumped to somewhere in his throat, he grabbed Ginny’s hand and dragged her further down the street away from the explosion. Not here, not today, please don’t be Death Eaters, Harry thought, even though he was positive it was.
There was another explosion as the shop that Harry and Ginny where just running by, blew up. The pair were thrown off their feet by the force of it, and were hit with glass, brick and wood along the way. They scrambled up; Ginny had a long cut along her arm and one on her shoulder, and Harry had a piece of glass in his leg, and a brick had struck him in the side. He ignored the pain and started running again. They had made it no more than five steps when their was an array of CRACKS, and over a hundred people in black cloaks and masks, Apparated all over the street and started randomly sending spells at people and buildings alike. Harry pulled his wand from his back pocket.
People were screaming and running around trying to get out of their way, several people from the Order, including Tonks and Remus, where in duels. Harry turned around, only to find that Ginny was not beside him anymore. He could hear his heart beat in his ears.
“Ginny!” he screamed as he ran in a random direction, the dust scratching at his eyes.
“Harry!” It was Ginny, but he couldn’t see her.
“We meet again, Potter. How lovely to see you!” Lucius Malfoy sneered. Harry spun around, pointing his want directly into Malfoy’s pale face. He looked much older than when he had last seen him, his eyes dead with no emotion. The look you can only get from Azkaban.
Harry shot a stunning spell at him, but it was easily deflected.
“Surely, you can do better than that!” Lucius taunted.
Harry started throwing spells at a fast rate(comma) and Malfoy shot them back.
“Harry!” It was Ginny again. Harry’s concentration wavered for a second, and he was hit by a curse that sent him flying twenty feet into the air and into a pile of rubble. He groaned, and forced himself to get back on his feet. Once he was balanced there was another round of loud CRACKS. Harry's heart skipped a beat, there couldn’t be more Death Eaters could there? No, it wasn’t, it was Aurors and more Order members. He only came back to his senses when he heard a familiar cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange.
“So you think you can fight me, pretty? Crucio! ” Harry spun around to find a sight that made his face lose all colour. Ginny’s screams reached his ears, and he pelted forward and rammed straight into Lestrange, who had put the red head under that torturing curse. With a cry of unrestrained fury, he sent curse after curse at Bella, and soon he was locked in fierce combat. Harry lost his concentration for a second when a piece of debris nearly concussed him, and she took this as her chance. She sent two cutting spells towards Harry, in quick succession, too quickly for him to block. Harry winced in pain as a slice across his right cheek and left forearm appeared, but sent his spells with even more fury.
Quite suddenly, all the Death Eaters clutched their left forearms and Disapparated, leaving everyone in the street in shock. Harry swore out loud. They’d lost them again! He looked around at the devastation that was Diagon Alley. Several buildings had been totally blown up; all had some form of damage to them and there were several bodies lying on the ground. Harry couldn’t see Ginny anywhere. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand and picked his way through rubble. There where still Aurors and Order members around helping the injured.
“Harry!”
He spun around and found a slightly dishevelled Remus coming towards him.
“What the hell just happened? Have you seen Ginny? How many are hurt?” asked Harry.
“Harry, slow down. We don’t know how many are hurt, and I have no idea where Ginny is, but you need to find her and get back to The Burrow now. The Weasleys are going spare.” Remus then went to talk to Moody.
“Okay, I’ll find her…Ginny!” Harry called out. There where men, women and children, either unconscious or dead lying in front of him. He heard a groan, and some of the rubble to his left moved. He quickly went over, and there was a black haired woman, lying with her legs trapped under a wooden beam, eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched.
“Are you all right?” asked Harry.
“Can you please get this thing off me?” she ground out between clenched teeth, her eyes still closed.
“Wingardium Leviosa,” said Harry and moved the beam to one side. The woman sighed in relief and opened her brown eyes. She looked at him for a few moments, and then looked utterly confused.
“James?” she breathed.
“No, I’m Harry,” he said uneasily. “Did you know my parents?”
She hesitated and seemed to be rather shocked. “I“ Yes, a long time ago…”
Harry was curious but didn’t push her; she looked bewildered enough as it was. He helped her to a standing position; she couldn’t walk on one of her legs, so she used Harry as a human crutch.
He had noticed that she hadn’t looked him in the eye since she had learnt his name, which was rather odd.
“Well, thanks. I think I need to get this leg checked out so…bye,” she said hurriedly and with a swish of a cloak she was gone.
“Harry! Harry!” It was Ginny calling him. He turned around and found her running full pelt towards him. She threw she arms around him, and buried her face in his neck. She was shaking.
“Come on, we should be getting back. I get the feeling your mum is going to be extremely worried,” mumbled Harry.
Ginny sniffed, pulled away and took his hand firmly in hers. They quickly made their way back towards The Leaky Cauldron.
Author's Notes: Hey! I'm back! Soooo...what did you think of this then? All cheer for another long chapter! Any fave lines? Let me know! If you think this is a load of rubbish, tell me why! If you think its good, review!
Next chapter is the wedding, so get your fluff nets ready!...Fluff nets? What the heck am I on? Just get ready for some fluff. ;-)
Thanks again Stace, your the best!
Lisa xxx
You Belong to me by lisa_lovegood
Author's Notes:
So here it is! The LONG awaited wedding!
DISCLAIMER: You should get the picture by now, I don’t own anything; it isn’t mine.
Chapter five- You belong to me
Harry was warm under his blankets. He made sure he did not move a muscle, as he was not sure how much it was going to hurt and he wanted to savour this calm moment. Once he and Ginny had got back to The Burrow, they where brought into a bone crushing hug from Molly and Hermione respectively and then all cuts healed. Harry’s side had been killing him all evening but he didn’t complain. Now he was wishing he had got it looked at, as he got the feeling it was going to hurt like hell. After a while, Harry noticed he couldn’t hear Ron’s usual snores. He opened one eye lid and looked over at his friend’s bed, which he found to be empty.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut again and gently lifted himself into a sitting position. He had to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from making any noise. Once he was steady, Harry looked over at the clock, it was half past nine. He slowly swung his legs over the bed and stood up. His whole right hand side of his torso, below his ribs felt like it had been hit over and over with bricks and wood, which, when yesterday’s attack came vividly back into his mind, it had.
He very slowly got dressed and stumbled down the stairs. In there was Ginny drinking from a purple mug, in her own little world, completely oblivious to the world around her. Harry stopped and watched her for a second, but then realised what he was doing and walked into the kitchen. She nearly fell of her chair when he walked past her and started making himself breakfast.
“Hey, you okay?” asked Harry.
“Yeah, I’m good, you?” she said.
“I’m fine.”
Harry sat down and ate some toast. Suddenly, something grey and feathery flew through the open window, making them both start. It landed on the table with a paper in its beak and a little leather pouch tied to its leg. They just stared at it for a few seconds, both knowing what bad news it would bring. Ginny slowly got up and placed a knut from the small pot on the counter in the owls pouch, and took the paper from it. She placed it on the table in front of them still rolled up, and sat down again.
“Do you want to do the honours or should I?” asked Harry quietly.
“I don’t want to look,” she whispered.
Harry picked the newspaper and unrolled it. In front was a picture of Diagon Ally in total ruins. The headline screamed Disaster and Destruction in Diagon Ally! The first paragraph was all Harry had to read before slamming his fist down.
“What? What does it say?”
“No Death Eaters caught, thirty one deaths and who knows how many injured,” said Harry through gritted teeth.
She opened her mouth to say something but then, when apparently the gift of speech wasn’t coming to her, she closed it again.
They sat in silence for a while, until Harry decided to finally break it.
“Where’s everyone?" He always had to ask, as he found it hard to keep track of everyone.
"I think Ron and Hermione and Charlie are helping mum upstairs with something or other to do with the wedding…Phlegm is probably somewhere shopping…the twins are back in Diagon Alley helping with repairs, Bill and dad are at work," said Ginny.
Harry stood to put his mug in the sink, but when he turned, his right side let out a horrible throb, causing his knees to buckle. He grimaced and caught hold of the counter. Ginny, on seeing this, stood up and sat Harry back on the chair.
“What’s up?” she asked managing to look suspicious and worried at the same time.
“Look, its nothing-”
“Nothing my foot, now lift up your top and let me see,” she sounded deadly serious.
Harry raised his eyebrows.
“Harry.”
“Oh fine.” Harry wasn’t sure what state he was in, as he didn’t look to see the damage to his torso this morning. He removed his shirt and looked down. There was a large bruise the size of a Quaffle, which was a mixture of blue and black.
“Ouch,” commented Ginny. “That looks painful. Why didn’t you ask anybody to heal it yesterday?”
“It didn’t hurt as much yesterday,” Harry lied.
Ginny just rolled her eyes and went to the Weasley’s healing potions cupboard. She got a white tube and removed its lid.
“Sit on the table.”
Harry did as she said, mainly because she was so reminiscent of her mother. Ginny squeezed some of the orange paste onto her finger and then gently rubbed it into his bruise. He looked down at her freckled face, to find it staring right back at him, they were inches apart, and Harry was overwhelmed with her flowery scent. He turned his face away before they were in a position like they were earlier that week by the pond. She cleared her throat and carried on rubbing in the cream.
“So,” she started, “Have you had a chance to look in that book I got you for your birthday yet?” it sounded like a throwaway comment but she watched him carefully.
“No, I haven’t had chance yet.”
“Okay.” There were another few minutes of silence, and then Ginny screwed the lid back onto the tube and pronounced he was officially healed.
“Thanks,” Harry said.
“Healer Ginny saves the day yet again!”
They laughed and Harry said, “Do you think we should go and help your mum for a bit?”
“Sure, there’s nothing else better to do.”
They made their way upstairs, to find Ron and Hermione folding table clothes and Molly and Charlie counting plates. Ginny and Harry were soon given the task to sort out the different coloured napkins into piles of silver and white.
After around ten minutes, an owl swooped through the window and landed on the plates Molly was counting. She took its letter from it and read it through before collapsing into the nearest seat and putting her head in her hands.
“Mum? Are you okay? What is it, what’s wrong?” asked Charlie.
“The singer has just cancelled TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING!” bellowed Molly, becoming very flushed in the face. “What are we going to do? There can’t be a reception without a singer!”
Hermione bit her lip, suddenly; she grinned and ran from the room. In no time, she was back with the Daily Prophet in her hands. She flipped through to the back and then passed it to Molly.
“Advertisements page,” Hermione stated.
Molly looked like she could have kissed her, and started searching franticly for the right person.
“Yes!” she declared seconds later. “Ginny, do you have a quill, some ink and parchment hanging around?”
*
Later that night Harry couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned but sleep never reached him.
Finally, Harry sat up, swung his legs over the side of his bed and put his glasses onto the end of his nose. He stood and walked over to his trunk, which was at the end of his bed. After a while of rummaging, Harry finally pulled out the defence book Ginny got him for his birthday. With that in hand, Harry walked over to the door, down the stairs, being careful of the ones that squeaked, and into the burrows living room.
After he was sat comfortable in an old, squishy armchair, he opened the crimson cover and, to his surprise, a piece of parchment fell out. Curious, he picked it up and started reading.
Dear Harry,
I’ve been sat here the past half hour trying to think of what to write, so here goes. I’m just going to tell you exactly what I’m feeling.
When I was ten, and I saw you in front of platform 9¾, I started having a crush on you. Well, you know that, who didn’t, and I had that crush up until my third year when Hermione told me to loosen up. You know that too. I did loosen up, and I did get over you. I was able to because I had never really known what it was like to be with you. But now, I do know, so it’s going to be a heck of a job to just move on. I can’t. I won’t.
My point of this letter is to tell you that I don’t care if I’m in danger, I can take care of myself and you know it. You are stronger with the people you care about. But no matter what, I’ll be here for you, whether that’s as girlfriend or as just a friend. If you still hold your resolve and don’t take me back, I’ll wait for you. I don’t care how long it takes, a week, a month, a year, twenty years. I’ll wait. That’s a promise.
Love,
Ginny
Harry was speechless. She would wait for him? No, she couldn’t! She had to get on with her life and move on. He might not even make it out of this alive!
He looked into the dying embers in the fireplace. What if she didn’t have to wait? What if he just took her back? What if…
Harry shook those thoughts out of his head. He couldn’t take her back, it was too dangerous. If Voldemort found out she would be used to get to him.
Even those reasons where starting to be doubted in Harry’s mind. Malfoy, Snape, they both would of known about Harry and Ginny’s relationship, it wasn’t exactly kept a secret.
Harry sighed; he didn’t know what to do anymore. He tried to distract himself by reading the book but the words kept wiggling around the page. Harry slammed the book shut and walked into the kitchen. As quietly as he could, he opened the back door and stepped outside. The slight breeze was refreshing on his warm skin. He looked up at the stars. Millions of little tiny specks winked at him. Harry sighed again and closed his eyes, all the sounds of the night reaching his ears; the rustle of the trees, the whisper of the wind, the soothing trickle of water from the pond. He sat down on the porch and looked back up at the stars.
When he saw one shoot across the sky, he made a wish.
*
“Why do girls always take so long to get ready?” asked Harry.
“I have no-” Ron was cut off by a lot of girlish squealing coming from one of the rooms upstairs. The boys shared a glance. The two of them where sat in the living room, waiting for the girls. Ron was supposed to be at the front, with the rest of his brothers during the whole procession, and Harry was sat with Hermione, so he’d agreed to wait for her.
“Ron, could you help seat the guests please!” shouted Molly from the kitchen.
Ron grumbled, brushed down his royal blue robes, and went outside.
Harry sat for a while twiddling his thumbs, when he heard someone descending the stairs. She had long, brown, wavy hair, that was clipped back out of her face at the sides and was wearing robes of the most delicate shade of blue, that reached down to the floor.
“Wow, Hermione you look amazing,” said Harry.
She smiled and blushed prettily “You don’t look too bad yourself.” Harry was wearing black robes with emerald green material along the cuffs and collar. Even after a long and hard battle with his comb, his hair still wouldn’t lay flat.
“I'm sure Ron will love those robes, I would pay money too see his face when he sees you!”
This made her flush a delicate shade of red, “Oh, just you wait until you catch sight of Ginny.”
Harry laughed and offered her his arm, which she took and they walked down to the front row of seating, which was situated in front of a small podium, in the middle of the garden. Once they where sat down, Hermione turned to him and suddenly looked slightly curious, nervous and serious at the same time.
“Harry, you do know you’re like a brother to me right?”
Harry smiled, “And you’re like the sister I never had.”
She grinned and him and gave him a warm hug.
“Wotcher Harry, Hermione!” said a voice to the right of Harry. He turned and saw a brunette Tonks. Her hair was straight and fell down her back. She was wearing robes of lilac made up of many different layers of different length, and seemed to move of their own accord.
“Hi!” smiled Hermione.
“Hi Tonks! You look great,” said Harry.
“Oh, I’d be careful Harry, your going to get Remey jealous,” she joked.
Remus rolled his eyes, greeted Harry and Hermione and took his place on the other side of Tonks.
“Oh I love weddings! They’re all happy and it makes me so hyper!" squealed Tonks, causing most people in the immediate vicinity to give her to laugh or give her strange looks.
Looking around, Harry could see most of the order, including Kingsley, Moody, Dedalus Diggle, Hestia Jones, and Mrs Figg. There where also a group of people who had the distinct French look about them. Angelina and Katie were sat three rows behind him, they were Fred and George’s dates.
They all made small talk, until the point it went quiet and Bill walked up to the podium and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The rest of the Weasley brothers, Arthur and Molly sat on the opposite side of seating to Harry and Hermione, on the front row. Molly was already in tears and holding onto her husbands hand as if her life depended on it. Fred and George kept giving him the thumbs up with cheesy grins; Bill did his best to ignore them. Ron, Harry noticed, was staring at Hermione with his mouth hanging wide open, as if she where a new species.
Then the wedding march started playing and Fleur appeared at the back of the aisle on her blonde haired father’s arm. She was wearing robes of pure white and a beautiful tiara was sat on top of her silvery blonde hair that was in an intricate bun, with a few loose curls coming round her face. Behind her were the bridesmaids, Fleur’s sister Gabrielle, her two best friends, and-
“Ginny,” Harry whispered. Hermione grinned at both Ginny’s appearance and Harry’s reaction.
The red head looked beautiful. Her fiery locks set free of her usual pony tail and cascading down her back, a gold clip in place on one side. Her robes were pale gold and just skimmed along the floor. They where made of some light material, which flowed like liquid in the slight breeze. She was holding a small bouquet of white flowers and was starting straight ahead, smiling.
To Harry, she was centre of attention, even when Bill and Fleur were making their vows, his eyes stayed fixed on her, and she kept glancing back at him, a small smile tugging the corners of her lips.
Harry’s attention was forced away from Ginny, when Bill and Fleur were asked to place their palms together by a small man in crimson robes, who was leading the procession. He placed his wand tip to them and they said, in perfect unison,
“I swear on the magic that runs through my blood, heart and soul that I will always be faithful and loving to you. You magic is my magic, my magic is yours.”
When they finished, white light erupted from their joined hands and engulfed them. The wind got stronger so it ruffled every ones hair and the light got so bright Harry had to shade his eyes with his hand. The light dulled until it revealed the two of them, looking lovingly into each others eyes, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.
“And you may now kiss the bride,” said the small man with a smile.
After the ceremony was finished, pictures where taken and everyone sat at the tables which had been made invisible until they where needed. Harry found himself next to Tonks again, with Ginny on his opposite side. Next to Ginny was Hermione, and next to Hermione was Ron. On the main table were Bill and Fleur in the middle, with Arthur and Molly on Bill’s left and Mr and Mrs Delacour on Fleur’s right.
The meal was delicious. It was made by Molly and a team of house elves from Hogwarts, which Harry hoped Hermione never found out about. When everyone had eaten all they possibly could, a dance floor was made. The only problem was that the singer Molly had hired hadn’t turned up yet.
“Where is she? She should have been here half and hour ago!” she said, practically hyperventilating.
Suddenly there was a loud crack from the front of the house. A woman with black hair, wearing black dress robes, holding a wooden box and a guitar, ran up to Molly, as fast as her heels would allow, and started apologising.
“Mrs Weasley? Oh, I am so sorry! I had a spot of trouble with the landlord on the way out and he kept yapping away…”
“Its fine dear, just start when you’re ready,” soothed Molly, now suddenly calm.
Harry had seen this woman before; she was the woman who had been trapped under a beam in Diagon Ally. The woman who said she used to know his parents…he hoped he got a chance to talk to her later.
She got onto stage and opened the lid of the wooden box she brought with her, and tapped it with her wand. Music started playing and Bill and Fleur had their first dance as husband and wife.
In a smooth and soothing voice, she started to sing,
“There is something that I see
in the way you look at me
There's a smile, there's a truth in your eyes
“But an unexpected way
on this unexpected day
could it mean this is where I belong
it is you I have loved all along
“It's no more mystery
It is finally clear to me
you’re the home my heart searched for so long
and it is you I have loved all along”
Remus, who was stood next to Harry, whipped his head round to look at the singer. He strained to see her face, but it was in shadow.
“What is it?” asked Harry quietly.
“Nothing…” he tore his eyes from her and continued watching the newlyweds.
“There were times I ran to hide
Afraid to show the other side
Alone in the night without you
“But now I know just who you are
and I know you hold my heart
Finally this is where I belong
it is you I have loved all along
“It's no more mystery
It is finally clear to me
you’re the home my heart searched for so long
and it is you I have loved all along”
Remus looked puzzled, like me was trying to work something out, but didn’t quite understand. He shook his head and seemed to move on, though he kept glancing at the singer.
“Over and over
I'm filled with emotion
your love, it rushes through my veins
“And I am filled
with the sweetest devotion
As I, I look into your perfect face
“It's no more mystery
It is finally clear to me
you’re the home my heart searched for so long
and it is you I have loved
It is you I have loved
It is you I have loved all along”
Everyone applauded and moved onto the dance floor for the second song. Bill danced with Molly; Fleur danced with her father, Arthur danced with Ginny, and Ron, for some unknown reason, got paired with Fleur’s mother. Harry asked Hermione to dance.
When the song ended, they went over to the table with drinks and got their selves a Butterbeer each. Ron soon joined them, flushed from either the dancing or who he was dancing with, Harry wasn’t sure. The trio sat down at one of the tables and watched the pairs of guests.
Tonks was dancing with Remus; he looked like he was having the time of his life. They soon came over and sat on the same table as Harry. Ron and Hermione kept glancing at each other, but when they caught the others eye, they flushed and looked in the other direction. Tonks found this quite amusing and leaned over and muttered in Harry’s ear,
“Is he going to ask her to dance any time this century?”
Harry chuckled, “Probably not.”
“I think they need a little encouraging…but how?” her brow furrowed in concentration, seconds later she jumped up and ran over to the podium where the singer had just finished her song. She talked briefly to her and then Tonks ran back to her chair, grinning.
“This is going to be funny.”
“What did you do?”
“Patience is a virtue…” she said evasively. “Oh come on, what’s she waiting for?”
Then the woman started talking to the crowd.
“Hello, I’ve been asked to read out announcement to go with this song: ‘Ron, Hermione, this song is dedicated to you, because we really want you to know what your like around each other, and please get a move on.’ So, to Ron and Hermione,” she tapped her music box again.
Harry grinned at the look on Ron and Hermione’s faces.
“I’m tugging at my hair
I’m pulling at my clothes
I’m trying to keep my cool
I know it shows
I’m staring at my feet
My cheeks are turning red
I’m searching for the words inside my head
“I’m feeling nervous
trying to be so perfect
’Cause I know you’re worth it
you’re worth it
yeah
“If I could say what I want to say
I'd say I wanna blow you... away
be with you every night
Am I squeezing you too tight?
If I could say what I want to see
I want to see you go down
on one knee
Marry me today
Yes, I’m wishing my life away
with these things I’ll never say”
“How did you think of this song? It’s perfect!” Harry said to Tonks.
“Oh, I do try. Come on Ron! Ask her to dance!”
Ron, who was all ready maroon, turned to Hermione and held out his hand. She grinned and walked with him to the dance floor.
“It don’t do me any good
it’s just a waste of time
what use is it to you
what’s on my mind?
If it ain’t coming out
we’re not going anywhere
so why can’t I just tell you that I care?
“I’m feeling nervous
trying to be so perfect
’cause I know you’re worth it
you’re worth it
yeah
“If I could say what I want to say
I'd say I wonna blow you... away
be with you every night
Am I squeezing you too tight?
If I could say what I want to see
I want to see you go down
on one knee
Marry me today
Yes, I’m wishing my life away
with these things I’ll never say...”
Tonks gave Harry a high five.
“That’s what I call a job well done, if I do say so myself!”
Remus, who had just gone to get drinks sat down and asked Tonks, “What’s the singer’s name?”
“Umm…I have no idea. Why?”
“Just wondering…want to dance?”
“Sure! See you Harry.”
Harry waved to them and turned when he heard his name being called.
“Harry!” It was Ginny.
“Hey Ginny, you look amazing!” she had just reached him and blushed.
“Thanks…are you having a good time?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s great.”
“That singer’s fantastic.”
“I know, and playing that song Tonks requested was hilarious.”
“Tonks requested that? Ha!”
Ginny looked over at Ron and Hermione who where still on the dance floor.
“They look cosy,” she stated.
“Yeah, well they’ve been taking their time about it. That small push in the right direction was what they needed.”
“More like a boot up the arse.”
Harry laughed. He felt someone tap his shoulder, and he turned around.
“Vill you dance vith me?” asked Gabrielle, Fleur’s little sister.
“Umm...” Harry didn’t get to finish his sentence because she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. He sent Ginny a pleading look, but she didn’t catch it; she was too busy giving Gabrielle a look that could kill.
Harry danced for a while and Remus raised his eyebrows. “You have a thing for younger girls?”
He laughed, “Speak for your self!”
After the song ended, Harry’s dancing partner went up onto her tip toes and kissed him on the cheek.
She said, “Vy don’t you ask Ginee to dance? She vill say yes.” She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “I think she likes you.” And with a flurry of blonde hair, she was gone.
Harry closed his eyes for a second, sighed and walked back over to the table. He was alone again, but not for long as Molly soon came over and asked for a dance. When he was done, he sat with Remus and Tonks again.
“Ron and Hermione have gone missing,” observed Remus.
“Hmm, I wonder what they’re doing,” thought Tonks aloud, “I think I have a few ideas, and I think we should follow their example, Remey.”
“Hello! I’m still here!” exclaimed Harry, thoroughly not needing that mental image.
Remus blushed but Tonks stuck her tongue out.
“How old are you?” laughed Remus.
“Remus Lupin! You should know how rude it is to ask a lady her age!” she said as she took a mouth full of mead, “But if you must know, a lot younger that you.”
“Oh, you little…”
Tonks stuck her tongue out again, “Come on Harry dearest, I haven’t danced with you yet!”
Harry nearly choked on his drink as she grabbed his hand, and ran onto the dance floor, tripping over a chair in the process. She was a great dancer, despite her usual clumsiness, though some of her moves were what you could call quite exuberant.
“You should dance with the twins,” commented Harry.
“I would but I can’t find them, they have disappeared with Angelina and Katie, much like your two best friends.”
Harry laughed.
“So, I saw you dancing with Gabrielle before, there I was, thinking you liked Ginny…” said Tonks offhandedly.
“I“ …We“ …I mean…”
“Oh, come on! I'm not blind! You have got to remember, windows are see-through.”
“What?” said Harry, totally lost.
She laughed, “I saw you, on your birthday, by the lake, with Ginny. I saw you through the window. You nearly kissed her but you stood up. Why?”
Harry didn’t answer.
“Harry, answer me,” she said, sounding uncharacteristically serious.
He looked up. “I didn’t kiss her because…” he couldn’t say it because he really had no reasons anymore. He took a deep breath, “I didn’t kiss her because she’s not safe with me.”
Tonks looked angry and grabbed Harry’s wrist and dragged him over to the orchard, he nails digging into his skin.
“Do you have any idea what it feels like to be pushed away because you are being protected? Do you know what that’s like? No, you don’t, because if you did you wouldn’t have done it. It’s so…so frustrating! What you’re doing to Ginny is exactly the same as what Remus did all last year.”
“Its nothing like you and Remus!” protested Harry.
“Really, well you are blowing Ginny off because you want to protect her from Voldemort. Remus pushed me away because he, being a werewolf, wanted to protect me from him.”
Harry could clearly see the similarities. He stayed silent.
“Harry,” she said quietly, “You can’t do this to yourself or Ginny.”
“I know,” Harry whispered. “But I'm scared for her.”
“You have to let her stand up on her own two feet. She is already in danger, or have you not noticed Molly’s clock lately?” she put her hand on his shoulder. “You have to take her back because if you don’t, and something happens to her anyway…well that would be learning the hard way. Go. Ask her to dance.”
Harry bit his lip. She was right. Of course she was right, she had first hand experience.
“Thank you for that.”
“Yeah, I’m into giving people shoves in the right direction tonight. It’s becoming a habit,” she smiled and walked away.
Harry quickly made his way back down to the party. He couldn’t see her anywhere. Out of the corner of his eye she saw a flash of red hair…no it was just Bill…
Then he saw her, sat at a table with Ron and Hermione.
“Here goes nothing,” he muttered under his breath.
“There you are Harry! Where did you disappear to?” asked Ron.
Harry couldn’t help it, he had to laugh. “I think you and Hermione were the ones that are doing the disappearing.”
They both had the decency to blush. He looked at Ginny, who was laughing.
Harry swallowed, “Will you dance with me?” She looked slightly shocked but stood and took his arm after only a seconds hesitation.
As if luck, or Tonks, would have it, the singer started playing her guitar, singing slowly and softly.
“See the pyramids around the Nile
Watch the sunrise from a tropic isle
Just remember darling all the while
You belong to me”
Ginny put her arms around his neck. He put his hands on her waist and they swayed slowly to the music.
“See the marketplace in old Angier
Send me photographs and souvenirs
Just remember when a dream appears
You belong to me”
“I read that book you got me for my birthday…and the letter,” said Harry.
She looked straight into his eyes. “I meant it. All of it, I meant it.”
Harry sighed, “I know you did…”
She rested he head on his chest. And Harry was again, overpowered by that flowery scent.
“And I'll be so alone without you
Maybe you'll be lonesome too
Fly the ocean in a silver plane
And see the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me”
“I think Tonks has been having words with that singer again. She got it right,” said Ginny quietly. She looked up at him, “I’ll wait for you,” she whispered
“You don’t have to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I'll be so alone without you
Maybe you'll be lonesome too
Fly the ocean in a silver plane
And see the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me”
“You don’t have to wait for me,” he whispered, just before their lips touched.
They where so wrapped up in each other they didn’t hear the cheers and wolf whistles coming from Ron, Hermione, Tonks and Remus.
Or the indignant comments of, “What the bloody hell is he doing with our sister?!” coming from Ginny’s brothers.
When they pulled apart Ginny looked at him wide eyed. “I don’t have to wait for you…good, because I would have gone insane.”
Harry was on such a high, he laughed, picked her up and spun her round. When he put her back down, she drew his face to hers and kissed him hard
“I think I could get used to this,” Harry grinned when they separated.
“Don’t worry, you will,” she said cheekily.
They danced to the next few songs, and then sat back down. Hermione was beaming at them, and Tonks was practically bouncing in her seat.
“Where are Remus and Ron?” asked Harry.
“They went to get us drinks. They should be back any second,” replied Tonks with a grin.
Harry sat down and Ginny plopped down on his lap. Remus and Ron arrived with drinks for everyone and they all talked.
“Come on Ron, you’ll have to dance with me sometime tonight,” said Tonks, and dragged a reluctant Ron onto the dance floor.
“Ginny, would you like to dance?” asked Bill, who had appeared out of nowhere.
“Sure,” said Ginny.
Several hours later, when everyone had danced with everyone else, people started to leave, Bill and Fleur Apparated away to their hotel in France, for their honeymoon.
Soon, there was Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, Molly, Arthur, Charlie, Fred and George around one table, talking about everything and nothing.
Quite suddenly, an owl swooped overhead, and flew over to the, still nameless, singer. She took the letter from the bird, opened it and read it. She seemed to just stare at the letter for a while, and then sat on the edge of the podium with her head in her hands. A moment later she stood, closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, picked up her guitar and closed the lid of the music box.
Remus was in deep conversation with Arthur about something to do with the order and didn’t notice her walk over.
“Mrs Weasley-” she started.
“Please, it’s Molly,” said Molly kindly.
“Molly, I was just wondering if I could have my pay now, rather than through Gringots, as, well, I just got kicked out of The Leakey Cauldron for not paying my rent in time…”
“Oh, I am sorry dear, but that’s just not possible. Where will you go?”
The woman sighed, “Well, I think the Hogs Head is pretty cheap…”
Mrs Weasley looked worried. “No, I will not have anyone sleep in that wretched inn…we have space here though I am afraid that you will have to settle on the couch. Is that all right with you Arthur?”
Arthur and Remus looked up from their conversation.
“Yes, that will be fine dear.”
“Molly, that’s really not necessary, I’ve slept in worse places, trust me.”
Remus was staring at the woman as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. She, Harry noticed had gone very pale all of a sudden and was gazing at Remus, a shocked look on her face. She looked as if she wanted to run away but she couldn’t quite get her legs to move.
Remus opened his mouth the say the name of the women he’d not seen in sixteen years…
DISCLAIMER 2: Okay, the three songs in this chapter I do not own either. The song ‘It is you (I have loved)’ is Dana Glover’s, ‘Things I’ll never say’ is Avril Lavigne’s and ‘You belong to me’ is Jason Wade’s.
A/N: Oh yes! Go Cliffy! Go Cliffy! *does the cliff hanger dance* woo! So, what’s your favourite bit so far?? Do you have one?? I want to know!
Thanks for your help with Ginny’s present Stacey. You’re a star!
Lisa xxx
Asher Crellin by lisa_lovegood
Author's Notes:
Yes, I know it has been months, and I am so, so, so sorry! There has been an awful lot of drama with betas, two of which seem to have disappeared off the face of the planet. But many thanks to Sour.Apple. and narniafreak730 for beta-ing.
Chapter Six- Asher Crellin
“Asher?” Remus breathed.
Harry’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Flashes of a twelve-year-old girl with long, black hair ran through his mind.
Asher’s brown eyes were filling with tears.
“I, um…I’ll be fine, M-molly…I can find my own way. Th-thank you though…” she spluttered, and turned towards the front garden.
Remus sprang up, knocking his chair over in the process, and grabbed her wrist. She froze.
“Please let go of me, Remus,” she quietly pleaded, not looking at him.
“No, because you might run away for another sixteen years,” said Remus harshly, making her flinch. “Why did you do it? What made you turn your back on everything you had here?”
She wrenched her arm out of his grasp so she was right up next to him. She had to look up to see his face, as she only came just above his shoulder.
“Why did I run away? I ran away because two people who I had been best friends with since I was eleven were murdered within four months of each other!” her voice was steadily getting louder, and she started stepping backwards away from him. “I ran away because my life was shattered to pieces by a man I regarded AS MY BROTHER! By a man I knew better than myself! By a ma-”
“Oh Merlin, Asher, it wasn’t Sirius! He was innocent!” Remus’ face then fell, “But…Sirius is-”
“What!?” the woman screamed, her eyes as round as saucers, her mouth hanging open. “What? Yes! I…I don’t believe it!” She had now launched herself on Remus, jumping up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and scattering kisses on his cheeks, forehead, and nose. “I knew it! I knew it couldn’t have been him!”
Tonks’ eyes were popping out of their sockets.
“Ash…Ash, there’s something else…” said Remus, putting her down. The smile that graced her features slowly faded, but she plastered a fake one on instead.
“So, where is Sirius? It’s not like him to miss a party!” she said in a forced cheery tone, feigning ignorance, as if she could guess what Remus was going to say next.
“Sirius…Ash, I’m sorry, but Sirius died last year.”
She just stared at him as if she couldn’t understand, the ghost of a smile still on her lips. She swayed slightly on her high-heeled shoes, then two large tears made their way down her cheeks. More followed and soon she were clutching Remus as if she would never let go.
Remus looked around at Molly and Arthur, who like the rest of the table, were watching the scene play out with either bemused looks or wide eyes.
“Can we…?” he nodded at the Burrow.
Molly nodded mutely. Remus half walked, half carried Asher to the back door.
There was complete silence until Fred piped up, “What the hell-”
“Just happened,” finished George.
Tonks, Harry noticed, was still staring at the place Remus had vacated minutes earlier.
“Tonks,” Ginny said quietly, as she gently nudged her shoulder.
Tonks jumped and looked around. “What was that all about?”
Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione. He was slightly shocked. He had thought, or presumed Asher Crellin was dead. Apparently, from the looks on their faces, his friends had come to the same conclusion. The rest of the Weasley’s obviously had no idea who she was, and Tonks looked hurt and confused. They must have sat in silence for half an hour, no one knowing what to say. Ginny held Harry’s hand tightly. She had found her seat on Harry’s lap, but he didn’t complain.
Harry heard the Burrow’s back door open; he looked over to find Remus approaching, looking dazed. He sat down next to Tonks and stared at Harry. His mouth opened a few times, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. On his fourth attempt, he managed to get them out.
“You might be wondering what just happened,” he said quietly.
“You’re telling me!” said Tonks, who was slightly squeakier than usual.
Remus looked over at her, his mouth open slightly. “I…we…no! No, no, no!” he laughed, “Me and Ash together, no way.”
Tonks seemed pleased with this answer and took his hand. “So, where is she now?”
“She’s asleep in the living room.”
“Well, who is she?” Harry asked
Remus took a deep breath. “Asher Crellin was your mother’s best friend since her first year at Hogwarts, her other best friend being Leanna Williams. You couldn’t find friends closer, besides maybe the Marauders. All through our first six years or so, Lily hated James, but Asher and Leanna never really had that much of a problem with him. Asher was quite close with Sirius. When I say quite close, I mean to say close enough for him to cut her hair rather short and spike it up, but that’s a completely different story altogether.” He paused and chuckled lightly when everyone stared at him, scandalised. It was very hard to picture Asher with short, spiky hair, as it now reached halfway down her back.
“By the end of our final year, Lily and James were together, and Ash and Sirius were as close as they come, though not in a romantic sense. It was more of a brother/sister love. So, a few years went by; the war was in full swing, but everyone stayed close. You were born, Harry, and when you were eleven months old, Voldemort went after Leanna. She put up a sensational fight; she was a sensational witch…but was murdered.” Remus had a sad look in his eyes.
“Two months later, you, Lily, and James went into hiding. I remember Sirius, Asher, and I living together in one flat. She was not the tidiest person, on the contrary, but even she got annoyed by the mess Sirius managed to make.”
Remus suddenly had a serious look on his face. He took a deep breath and continued. “Two months after you went into hiding, Voldemort found you. Asher and I were under the impression that Sirius was your parents’ secret keeper and though never quite believing it, had to accept that Sirius had sold them to Voldemort and murdered Peter. But Ash wouldn’t accept it. She couldn’t believe the person she thought she knew so well could do this, but all the evidence pointed to it,” Remus sighed. “A week after your parent’s death, Asher packed all her belongings and left. I haven’t seen her since, until today.”
Everyone was lost in thought.
“What made her come back?” asked Harry. His brain was overwhelmed with information, but he was too curious not to ask questions.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t get that much out of her.”
“Do you know what she’s been up to all these years?” Hermione asked.
Remus shook his head, “No.”
There was another unbelievably long silence.
“Right, I think there has been quite enough excitement for one day; it’s nearly three in the morning! Everyone to bed now,” said Molly.
*
Harry woke with a start. He had been dreaming about the night Dumbledore died, and woke covered in sweat, breathing heavily. Once he had cleared his head of the dream, he thought about the night before. He just couldn’t believe Asher Crellin was alive. It was so strange; why did she come back? It couldn’t have been just coincidence that she was in London the day of the attacks. He suspected she would have stayed further away, where she could not have been recognised by anyone. Suddenly, he remembered she was downstairs sleeping in the living room.
He sat up and looked at the clock. Quarter past ten. Ron was still snoring loudly, and it was fairly quiet outside his bedroom. He would take a shower, without having to wait in queue for once, go get some breakfast, and hopefully talk to his mother’s mysterious friend.
Half an hour later, Harry was going down the creaky stairs. He walked over to the kitchen, but she wasn’t there. He looked in the living room, but she wasn’t there either. He was slightly worried by this. He then heard a sound from outside the kitchen. When he stood by the door, he could hear someone singing softly, as if in their own world. Harry opened the door as quietly as he could, so as not to startle the person. His efforts seemed unsuccessful, as the very woman Harry had been looking for jumped and spun round.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked.
“Oh, no, no…go ahead…” Asher said, and took a sip from her mug.
They sat in silence. Harry didn’t know what to say to her. Her eyes looked red and puffy.
“You might be wondering why I came back after so long,” she said quietly, not looking at him.
“Well…yeah.”
She took a shaky breath before starting. “Ever since I was little I’ve had to fight my own battles, and I soon learned never to be a coward or back down.” Silence. “When your parents died…Sirius got blamed…and I couldn’t accept that. I'm sure that’s what Remus already told you.” Harry nodded.
“I left because…because everyone around me was so angry, so depressed, and all the blame was on Sirius. And I was trying to accept this. I mean, I had no idea what to do. So I ran. I ran away from everything that reminded me of him, I ran because I didn’t want to face up to the truth,” she looked straight into Harry’s eyes. “And I’ve regretted it ever since. I regret leaving Remus most. He lost just as much as me, but he didn’t run. He stayed and just dealt with it.
“I still haven’t answered your question. What made me come back…I never forgave myself for what I did. It was cowardly and selfish, and I think I hurt Remus more than he will ever admit. But Dumbledore’s death made me seriously think about coming back. ” Harry’s heart constricted slightly at these words, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“I never really paid that much attention to what was happening while I was away, but everyone had heard of Albus Dumbledore. And when I heard…it really hit home how deep we are in this war. Everyone, every single person has a place in it. I wanted to take my place. I need to take my place, and my place is here, the place I’ve been avoiding for nearly sixteen years. I have no idea what the hell we are going to do without Dumbledore, though. I guess everyone thought he would defeat Voldemort in the end…but now…who knows.”
Harry ignored that last statement. He had so many questions flying through his brain. “What have you done for so long?”
“Well, I’ve travelled. I’ve gone everywhere I ever wanted to go and more, never staying in one place for long. I made money singing at weddings, parties, bars, things like that,” she laughed humourlessly, “doing the thing I love most, but hating where I did it. And the place I hated turned out to be everywhere but where I belong. The place where I belong is where I can find out the truth and live up to it. Here in other words.”
“When did you come back?”
“The day the Death Eaters attacked was the day after I arrived. I had hardly a sickle to my name, but managed to get a room at the Leakey Cauldron. You helped me when I was stuck under that goddamned beam, and I knew Remus couldn’t be far off. I’d seen a glimpse of him earlier. I ran again. I needed some money, so I put an ad in the paper…and you know what happened after that.”
He really didn’t know what to say. She stood up, and he followed suit. When she was about to go inside, he put his hand on her shoulder.
“I don’t blame you for doing what you did,” he said quietly. He didn’t, and he knew she wasn’t lying when she said she was sorry for it.
She gave him a small, sad, but genuine smile and walked into the kitchen.
“Harry! Miss Crellin! I didn’t know you were out there,” said Molly from the cooker, when they entered.
“Oh Merlin, please do not call me Miss Crellin. It makes me sound old. Even though I am getting on a bit there’s no need to remind me…” she grinned and winked at Harry. Harry could see why she had gotten on with Sirius so well. She removed her wand from a pocket of her robes and performed a spell that made her makeup seem freshly applied and her dark hair straight and brushed.
“I see your feeling better today,” observed Molly.
“Yeah, well I’ve been up since five just thinking. I need to go see Remus; I have a few things to say, most of them being apologies.”
“I can’t give you his address, so you will need to go see Minerva McGonagall, the new secret keeper for the Order, although I think he will come see you anyway.”
“Thanks, I will.” Asher was silent for a minute. “Mrs. Weasley-”
“It’s Molly, dear.”
Asher laughed. “Molly, I won’t be here long; in fact, I’ll probably be out of your hair by tonight.”
“It’s all right to stay here, Asher. I’m not letting you go stay in the Hogs Head if that’s what you are thinking.”
“I can’t just not pay you for your hospitality,” she paused for thought. “What if you just forget my pay for last night and I stay here for…a week at most?”
“I think that can be arranged. And you can stay here for as long as you need. I can’t just chuck you out on the street.”
Asher smiled, “Thank you, Molly.”
By this time, Harry was sitting at the table, where Molly had just placed a plate full of bacon and fried eggs. Asher helped Molly and both women sat down opposite him with their own breakfasts.
“So, Harry,” started Asher, flipping her long hair behind her shoulder. “Did you have fun with that red-headed bridesmaid?” she said, with a perfectly calm voice, though her eyes where sparkling with mischief.
He blushed and refused to meet Molly’s eye. “Umm…”
“Yes, he seemed very cosy,” said a quiet voice from the door. Harry looked around to see the smirking face of Charlie. He blushed more. Charlie got some breakfast from the pan and sat down.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking at Asher.
“Yeah, I’m good, you?”
“I think I should have lain off the Firewhisky …” everyone laughed, which made him wince. Molly got up and gave him a vial full of a thick, florescent green potion. It didn’t seem to taste very nice, as Charlie grimaced when he drank it all in one gulp.
“Yuck. Better than a hangover I suppose…” he said dryly.
“Morning!” said Mr. Weasley brightly.
“Morning,” chorused the table. Ten minutes later, Hermione arrived, followed by Ron, who sat beside her. They were both blushing slightly, making everyone snigger into their food.
“Good morning, everyone, and what a beautiful day it is!”
That cheery voice made Harry’s heartbeat quicken. He didn’t want to look at anyone, as he knew they’d be smirking. He turned around to find Ginny looking straight at him. She skipped over, and without even a glance at the current company, kissed him square on the lips.
Several moments later they pulled away. Harry’s cheeks stained red again, but Ginny seemed unfazed by the stares. Asher was trying her best not to burst out laughing. She took a sip of tea, but when she saw Harry’s red face, she choked and had to be hit on the back by Molly, who also seemed quite amused. The two Weasley brothers present looked outraged, but Hermione simply smiled and carried on with her breakfast.
“Mmm, breakfast smells great, Mum,” said Ginny, as she sat on Harry’s left. “What?” she snapped at Charlie and Ron.
“Would you mind not snogging at the breakfast table? Ouch!”
It seemed Hermione had taken it upon herself to give Ron a good kick in the shin. Harry found it quite amusing that Ron had protested, not Molly or Arthur.
“No, I don’t mind snogging Harry at the breakfast table, see.” She then leaned over to kiss him again. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”
*
“Um, Harry?” said Hermione unsurely.
“That’s my name,” Harry replied, not taking his eyes away from the chess pieces in front of him. Internally, he begged them to magically move to the perfect position so he could stop this long and slow torture, also known as playing against a very competitive Ron.
“Harry, I think we need to talk about what we’re doing. You know, with the Horcruxes and everything.”
Ron, Harry, and Hermione were sitting in the living room. Ginny was helping her mother with dinner, and Ron had forced Harry into a game of wizard’s chess, promising to go easy on him Harry, of course, was losing spectacularly.
He looked up and sighed, “I know.” He was silent for a while, deep in thought.
“Well,” ventured Ron, “you said we should go to Godric’s Hollow…”
“Yeah, that’s where we’ll start…we need to see if there is anything, anything at all that will help there,” said Harry slowly.
“What about afterwards?” asked Hermione.
“I think we need to go to Gaunt’s house, the Riddle’s house, and the graveyard,” he shuddered.
“What…what about school?”
Harry sighed, feeling a lot older than seventeen. He rubbed his eyes and looked out the window into the garden.
“I don’t know…we need to get this over and done with.”
“Well yeah, but how do we expect to kill any ‘Dark Lords’ when we haven’t finished our education? I mean, now that Dumbledore’s gone, V-Voldemort is more powerful.”
It was quite a shock, not what had been said, but who had said it. Ron’s ears turned slightly red, but he held Harry’s gaze.
“I just…I just don’t know anymore.” He truly didn’t. Dumbledore was supposed to help him with this, guide him, and tell him how to destroy the Horcruxes. But Dumbledore’s help would never come. Harry just had to make his own plans, then hope and pray they would work.
“I think we shouldn’t make our minds up yet…I think we should decide when we’re at Godric’s Hollow,” he said.
“When are we leaving?” asked Ron.
“I think we’ve wasted too much time all ready. We should leave as soon as we can. Tomorrow morning?”
They were quiet for a moment; then quite spontaneously, Ron groaned and let his head hit the chessboard with a loud bang, making all the pieces run for their lives.
“What?” Harry said, quite startled by Ron’s outburst.
“We have to tell mum and dad, plus Ginny. I hope you have quick reflexes, Harry.”
“Why?”
“Because her bat bogey hex is pretty powerful.”
“Ah.” Harry didn’t like the sound of telling Ginny either. He had just gotten back together with her, and now he had to tell her he may not be going back to school.
“Well, we should get it over and done with. We can’t just leave without telling them,” said Hermione sternly.
Both boys gave her pleading looks.
“No. We have to tell them.”
“Okay fine, we will tell them after dinner, agreed?”
“Okay.”
Ron grumbled incoherently for a few seconds, “Fine then.”
*
Dinner came and went far too quickly for Harry’s liking. There was only Molly, Arthur, Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione there tonight. Charlie was meeting up with some friends, as he was leaving in a couple of days, and Asher had gone to see Professor McGonagall and Remus, and pick up her things from The Leaky Cauldron.
When everyone had eaten until they were ready to burst, the three friends shared a glance. Actually, it was more of a look specifically directed at Harry, saying, “Go on!”
“Umm, we’re going to be leaving tomorrow morning; we’re going to Godric’s Hollow. There are some things we need to do,” he told his empty plate defiantly. Harry glanced at Ron. He was looking at the ceiling, preparing himself for the protests guaranteed to come from Molly. Hermione was staring at the table, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.
After a few seconds of painful silence, Harry looked up. All three people were looking at him, very pale.
“W-What?” squeaked Molly. “Merlin forbid, tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with You-Know-Who.”
“There are things that need to be done before he can be killed,” said Harry, forcing his voice to stay steady.
Silence again.
“What do you need to do?” questioned Arthur, a look of dead seriousness on his kind face.
“We can’t tell anyone. I'm sorry,” Hermione whispered.
“I won’t allow it. Harry, Hermione, I can’t tell you what to do, but Ronald, you still live under this roof, and I refuse to let you go. It’s too dangerous-” Molly said, looking stern.
“Yes, Mum, I am aware it’s dangerous, but I have to go with Harry. If I don’t go, then you know he will go anyway, and I am not letting him go with just Hermione; he needs help, and I’m going to be part of it.”
“But-”
“I'm sorry, Mum, but I’m going,” said Ron.
Molly started sobbing into her husband’s shoulder, who tried to comfort her. Harry was only able to make out a few words like, ‘Dangerous’ ‘You-Know-Who’ and ‘Killed’.
“I'm coming too,” said Ginny, her burning stare set on Harry.
“No, you’re not,” Harry said as calmly as he could. He had been expecting this. Well, this or her flying across the table and smacking him.
“You can’t control me, Harry.” Her voice was strangely low and quiet, but it just made her seem scarier.
“I know I can’t control you, but I’m still not letting you come.” His voice wavered from the strain of trying not to shout the words at her.
“I'm not letting you go again!”
Harry was on his feet without even noticing, “Ginny, you are not coming and that’s final! I’m not putting you in that danger!”
“If Ron and Hermione are going, then I am too!” she shouted, jumping to her feet as well.
“Then I’ll go alone!”
This was followed by complete silence. Ginny’s eyes started filling with tears, but she blinked them away furiously.
“Harry, you’re not going alone,” said Ron quietly.
Harry didn’t answer.
“Why do you have to do this now?” whispered Ginny, still on her feet.
“Because I just do, okay?”
“It’s not okay.”
Harry couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. He sank back down into his chair and put his head in his hands.
“Ron, Hermione, and I are leaving tomorrow morning,” he said into his palms, then stood and walked out into the garden. He sat down by the pond, just watching the water ripple in the slight wind. He shut his eyes and lay down on the grass. He didn’t know how long he’d been there when he heard someone sit next to him, and smelt that familiar flowery scent. He opened his eyes and looked into hers. Those beautiful brown eyes were staring at him.
“I don’t want you to go,” she started.
“Ginny-” he said, while sitting up.
“No, let me finish. I don’t want you to go, but I know you’re going to go anyway. I wish you would let me go with you, but I also know you will never let me.”
Harry smiled slightly.
“I'm not going to tell you to be careful, because for some unknown reason, you get yourself in tight spaces anyway.”
He chuckled. “You know me too well.”
Her face was serious again. “I'm scared for you, Harry. I really am. More scared for you than I am for myself.”
“Well, I’m absolutely terrified for you. Just knowing me puts you at risk-”
“Harry, shut up,” she said frankly.
He grinned in spite of the seriousness of it all, “Make me.”
“Gladly,” she smiled innocently.
Several minutes later, they resurfaced from lack of oxygen.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Harry.”
“Me? Do anything stupid or on the spur of the moment? Never,” he laughed.
“I'm serious, Harry.”
He sighed. “I know you are. Sometimes I just wish we didn’t have to be.”
She hugged him, and said into his neck, “When this is all over, you can go as mental and unserious as you want.”
He grinned into her mane of red hair, “I'm going to hold you to that.”
For the first time, Harry found himself thinking about life after Voldemort. There was the biggest chance Harry wouldn’t make it out alive, but he was going to fight against those odds, because there were people in this world who truly cared for him. Harry wanted to really live He wanted to be spontaneous and take risks. He wanted to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and not have the danger of being killed constantly hanging over his head. Harry had so much to live for; this was just the first time he had truly realised it.
Returning Home by lisa_lovegood
Author's Notes:
Many thanks to stacey, Sour.Apple. and Narniafreak730!
Chapter seven- Returning Home
“Please be careful! What will I do if I…if I-” Mrs. Weasley couldn’t go on and threw herself into her youngest son’s arms.
It was eleven o’clock in the morning, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were saying their goodbyes to Molly, Arthur, Charlie, Asher, and Ginny.
Harry was shaking Arthur’s hand and turned to find Asher standing right behind him.
“Good luck, Harry. I have no idea what you’re doing, but good luck with it anyway.”
“Thanks, Asher,” said Harry, shaking her hand.
“Harry,” said a small voice to his right. Ginny was there, her eyes gleaming slightly. She threw herself into his arms and squeezed him tightly. “How long will you be away?” she whispered in his ear.
He pulled away so he was looking into her face. “I don’t know. It could be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks, if not more. We know the basics of where we’re going, but beyond that, we don’t know for sure.”
She hugged him again and buried her face in his neck.
“Harry, we have to go,” said a voice from behind him.
He looked down at Ginny and sighed. He lifted her chin so she was looking him straight in the eye. “I’ll come back, Ginny.”
“Promise?” she croaked, as one tear made its way down her cheek.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, kissing her lightly. He rubbed away the salty tear with his thumb and turned away from her. Hermione was giving Crookshanks one last pet before putting him down. The night before, they had decided to leave all their animals, including Hedwig and Pig, at the Burrow because it would have been too much bother carrying Crookshanks and rather odd walking around Muggles with a pair of owls.
First, they were going to Grimmauld Place to get his parents’ address from Lupin, then Diagon Alley to get some money out of their vaults and exchange it for Muggle currency, and then finally to Godric’s Hollow, where Harry’s adventure would truly begin. Harry and Ron had gone to the Ministry with Arthur two days after he arrived at the Burrow, and both friends passed their Apparation test.
Harry took a pinch of floo powder from Molly. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and she enveloped him in a fierce and protective hug.
“Be careful, Harry, and please come home soon.”
“I will, Molly.”
He was saying he would, but nothing was certain. His mission was dangerous, and he would have to rely on just his defence skills and the knowledge Dumbledore had given him to pull through.
He took a deep breath and looked back at the people in front of him. Molly was hugging Arthur, Asher was biting her thumbnail while looking at the floor, and Ginny was holding Charlie’s hand in an iron grip. Harry picked up his backpack, filled with enough food from Molly to feed a small army.
“Bye,” Harry said quietly, looking at Ginny and throwing the powder into the grate. Stepping into the warm, emerald flames, he shouted his desired destination.
Harry hated travelling by the floo network. As he spun like a top, catching glimpses of hundreds of witches and wizard’s homes, he felt his stomach roll. Suddenly, Harry stopped spinning and found himself in the kitchen of the house he had never wished to be in again.
Grimmauld Place hadn’t changed much. The walls were a depressing grey colour, though it seemed further cleaning had taken place. Harry stepped out of the grate. There was a whooshing sound announcing Ron’s arrival. Harry turned and looked at him.
“You ready for this?” he asked
“As I’ll ever be,” answered Ron defiantly.
Hermione arrived just as the kitchen door opened. Tonks walked in and smiled at the trio.
“Wotcher! I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, as she walked over to the sink, filled up the kettle, and placed it on the hob. “Cuppa?”
“Yes, please,” said Harry. They took their places at the table. Harry’s gaze flickered over to the place Sirius used to sit. He shivered.
“So what brings you guys and girl to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black today then?”
“We were wondering if we could talk to Remus about something,” said Hermione.
“He’s coming down n-” Tonks was cut off when she tripped and nearly dropped the two mugs she was holding. She smiled sheepishly at Ron when he stood to get the others.
“He’s coming down now, so, yes I give you permission to talk to him,” she repeated
Harry laughed, “I’m so glad you can share.”
“Yes, well don’t expect it too often.”
The kitchen door opened again to reveal Remus.
Greetings were shared before Remus politely asked what they were there for.
“Well,” explained Harry, “We want to visit Godric’s Hollow, but we don’t know the address of my mum and dad’s house, so we were wondering if you could tell us.”
“Of course.” He rummaged in one of the draws and found a quill, some ink, and a scrap of parchment. He scribbled down the address and passed it to Harry. “Are you going to visit the cemetery as well?” he asked gently.
“Yeah, I would like to visit my parents’ graves,” said Harry, his voice sounding oddly tight.
“It’s just on the edge of the village.”
“Okay.”
“You do know you own that house, as well as everything in it?”
Harry hadn’t thought of that. “Well, I do now.” He took another deep breath and stood. “Well, we had better make tracks.”
“Harry, could I have a word?” asked Remus.
“Sure.”
They stepped outside of the kitchen and into the lounge. There had been a fair improvement in this room. The old, musky smell was gone, and it even looked a bit brighter. The sofa Harry sat on looked clean; you could actually tell what colour it was now that the layer of dust and grime was gone.
“You aren’t just making a social call to Godric’s Hollow, are you?” Remus asked, sitting down in a chair opposite Harry.
“No.”
“Is this to do with Voldemort and the Horcruxes?”
“Yes.”
“A few months after Lily and James died, Dumbledore and I, as well as a few other friends rebuilt your parent’s house. We restored everything and put it back where it belonged.”
“You rebuilt it? How…” Harry paused. “How much damage was there?”
“Well, one side of the house had totally collapsed, and the rest of the walls had some form of damage as well,” Remus replied.
They sat in silence while Remus just looked at Harry, his expression unreadable. “Good luck, Harry,” he said eventually.
Once Harry was back in the kitchen, they said their goodbyes to Remus and Tonks and walked out into the street. Harry was glad to be out of there and it must have shown on his face, because Hermione asked if he was okay.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just being there brings back memories I’d rather forget.”
“Ready to go?” asked Ron, as they reached a small, grassy area on the very end of Grimmauld Place.
Harry took a deep breath. “Yep, it’s time to get started.”
Making their way down Diagon Alley, Harry noticed there were few people in the street, even though nearly all the damage from the attack had been fixed. They walked up the large steps that led into Gringots.
An hour later they exited the wizard bank, all rather disgruntled.
“That was a bloody nightmare!” burst Ron, annoyed.
“What did you expect? Security has to be at an all time high!” said Hermione.
“Well, if that stupid goblin had poked me with that stick of his one more time-”
“OK, I think we’d better get going,” said Harry hurriedly, before Hermione had a chance to answer Ron.
“Well,” said Hermione, in a business-like tone, “I think we should buy a tent because we don’t know what sort of places we’ll be sleeping at.”
“Okay, but where do you suppose we could buy a tent in Diagon Alley?” asked Harry.
Ron looked thoughtful for a second. “Well…” he said, “I think there is a shop down that way,” he pointed down the street past Gringots, “that sells almost everything. Dad went there once ages ago.”
“What’s it called?” asked a curious Hermione.
“I can’t remember…”
“Well, let’s go,” said Harry.
They made their way down the street and then down a side alley under Ron’s direction. Harry had never been down here before On all his previous visits to the alley, he had stayed on the main street, where all the bigger and more popular shops were. Here down this alley were shops selling things Harry had never even heard of before.
One shop in particular caught his eye. The outside walls were old and cracked and looked as if they could do with a good paint. The wooden front door, Harry guessed, had been emerald green at some point in time, but now was old and faded. It was called The Little Shop of Everything. In the window was a selection of Muggle and Wizard objects. It was quite strange to see a magic wand sitting next to an old Muggle television. Harry was quite surprised when Ron announced this was it and opened the door.
“The Little Shop of Everything? Surely they can’t sell everything,” said Hermione, while looking around the cluttered shop.
“You’d be surprised,” said a man’s voice from behind a large wardrobe. Hermione let out a small scream and jumped to Ron’s side.
The man walked into view. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and looked around twenty years old. “My family has had this shop for many years, and after such a long while you do come across an awful lot of things.” He smiled at Hermione, and she blushed up to the roots of her hair. “Brant Belvidere,” he said, still staring at Hermione. He picked up her hand and kissed it, while Ron’s ears turned a violent shade of scarlet.
Harry coughed, mostly so Ron didn’t thump the man. Brant looked at him, his gaze flickered up to Harry’s scar, and his blue eyes went wide. “Harry Potter!” he all but shouted, while flashing him a large grin and wringing his hand. “How may I be of service?”
“Erm, do you have any tents?”
“Of course, back in a jiffy!” He winked at Hermione and disappeared into the back room.
“He’s like Lockhart all over again!” choked Ron.
“He’s not that bad, he’s quite…” Hermione trailed off when she saw the look on Ron’s face.
Brant came back into view holding a large piece of yellow material Harry supposed was the tent. “Here we are! Now, what sort of fixtures and features would you like? You can have three bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom, dining room, and living room with everything including beds, wardrobes, fully fitted kitchen, table seating six, bath, sink, toilet, mirror, and a small duck pond, extra charge for the ducks.”
Ron, Harry, and Hermione just stared at him. “Err-” said Harry.
“We’ll have three bedrooms, a kitchen, living room, and bathroom including beds, wardrobes, kitchen things, just a small dining table, full bathroom, and you can forget the pond,” said Hermione, counting the items off on her fingers.
“That will be fine.” He smiled and tapped the material. “There, all done. Would you like anything else? How about…” He went over to a jewellery stand and picked up a silver chain with a small heart pendent on it, “…this? It would go amazingly with your complexion, my lady. Come on, try it on.”
He moved around behind Hermione; she seemed quite startled by this and glanced at Ron. She sidestepped Brant and slid closer to the redhead. He looked at her questionably, held out the necklace, and asked whether she would like it.
“No, we’ll just have the tent.”
He looked a little put out, but placed the necklace back on its holder, and packed the tent away so it would fit in one of their backpacks. “That will be ten Galleons and sixteen sickles, please,” he said, with a once again dazzling smile.
Ron’s eyes grew round, but Harry just pulled out his money pouch and paid the blonde.
“Thank you, Mr Potter. Please, do call again.”
“Right…” Harry trailed off and turned to the door, Ron and Hermione hot on his heels.
“Stupid blonde bimbo,” Ron spat once they were out of hearing distance.
Harry chuckled when Hermione didn’t reprimand Ron for the insult.
They were soon at the courtyard outside the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry was suddenly not in the mood to laugh anymore.
“Are you okay to do this, Harry?” Hermione asked kindly.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Harry concentrated on his destination: Godric’s Hollow. He turned on the spot and soon felt like he was being forced down a tight rubber tube. Just when he thought his eardrums would suffer permanent damage, the pressure disappeared, and Harry found himself at the top of a low hill overlooking a small village. He could see a graveyard in the distance. He hadn’t noticed his friends’ arrival until Hermione gently nudged him to get moving.
They walked down into the village. It was nearly two in the afternoon now, and they all felt hot and bothered.
“Harry, do you have the address?” asked Hermione.
He rooted in one of his pockets, found the scrap of parchment, and read aloud from it, “Number seven, Riverside Close.”
“Right…and how do we get there?” questioned Ron.
“We ask,” answered Hermione.
Ron looked around the empty street. “What, should we ask the tree?”
“Ron, trees don’t talk.”
“I know trees don’t bloody talk! That’s my point, there’s no one-”
“Look, can you two please just stop snapping at each other?” Harry said.
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then back at Harry. “We weren’t snapping,” they said simultaneously.
Harry just rolled his eyes and carried on down the street. They walked in silence until they came to a pub.
“Why don’t we go in there?” offered Hermione, obviously hearing the music coming from inside.
The pub was fairly empty, furnished with dark wooden stools and tables and a large bar. The barmaid was a middle-aged woman with curly black hair, scraped back into a high ponytail. She had olive skin and eyes so dark they almost matched her hair.
“How can I help you, my loves?” she said sweetly, as she walked over to the bar.
“Do you have any bottles of water?” asked Harry, “And we were wondering if you know the directions to Riverside Close.”
She placed three bottles of water on the bar, “That’s two pounds twenty five, please.” Harry paid her. “Now, Riverside Close you say? Well, you follow this road until you get to the park, then take a right, then a left, and then follow that road until you’re right on the edge of town, then, you take a final right and you’re on Riverside.” She looked at their blank expressions for a second. “Tell you what; I’ll get you a map.” She went into the back room.
“Err…did you get any of that?” asked Ron, through the corner of his mouth.
“Nope, not a word,” said Harry.
The barmaid returned with a roadmap in hand. She placed it on the bar and traced their directions on with a pen. Ron peered at the writing instrument curiously until Hermione elbowed him in the side.
“Here you go, loves. What are a couple young’ens like you doing in Godric’s Hollow on a beautiful summer’s day like this, may I ask?”
“We're just visiting old friends,” said Harry swiftly.
“We better get going, or it will be dark by the time we arrive,” Hermione said, rising from the barstool she’d been sitting on, picking up her bottle of water, and moving towards the door. Ron followed her, and Harry thanked the woman, grabbed the map and bottles, and went out into the sun.
Taking a mouth full of water, he passed Hermione the map. She looked at it for a second, and then pointed them in the right direction. From the top of the hill, Godric’s Hollow looked fairly small. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They had been walking down the same road for about thirty minutes when they arrived at a small park. It had two swings, a slide, football nets, and a grassy area with picnic tables.
“Who says we stop for lunch?” said Ron.
“Yeah, it is after three in the afternoon,” agreed Hermione, looking at her watch.
They all sat down at a table and unpacked some of the food Molly had made them. She had charmed it all so it wouldn’t go bad. Taking a bite of a sandwich, Harry looked around. There was a group of about seven or eight children playing nearby Four boys came out with a football and started a game. Harry could just see the edge of the graveyard in the distance. He shivered, knowing that was going to be his next stop after Riverside Close.
When they were done, they packed everything back into their rucksacks and started towards the gate. When they were nearly there, Harry felt a ball whiz by his right cheek, missing him by inches. Unfortunately for Hermione, she wasn’t so lucky and it hit her in the back of the head. For one heart stopping moment Harry thought it was a bludger, but it turned out to be the football the four boys were playing with. At this point, both Ron and Harry were crying from laughter. Hermione’s face was scarlet as she grabbed the football from the ground and yelled at the boys.
“Be more careful next time!”
One of the boys ran over and mumbled something inaudible to his shoes.
“Pardon?” said Hermione.
The boy, who looked around ten years old, took a deep breath, “CanIavmaballback?”
Hermione looked at him blankly for a second, while Ron and Harry tried to control their mirth. Hermione jumped when she realised she was still holding the football and swiftly passed it to him. “There you go, just try to control it next time,” she said, rubbing the back of her head. The boy scampered away back to his friends.
“Was that football?” asked Ron, once they were back on course.
“Yes, in all its glory,” she said grumpily, rubbing the back of her head again.
Ron made a slightly sarcastic ‘aww’ noise and took her hand. She elbowed him in the side, but didn’t pull her hand away. Harry smiled and took this as confirmation that they were definitely together. To him, it was a strange thought.
*
“For the love of Quidditch how long is this going to take?” complained Ron, nearly an hour later.
“We’re nearly there, just a little further down this road…” said Hermione, as she fanned herself with the map. As the minutes wore on, it seemed to be getting hotter and hotter. Harry and Ron had removed their t-shirts, and they had completely run out of water. Because Godric’s Hollow was more or less entirely inhabited by Muggles, they couldn’t conjure anything to drink until they reached their destination.
There was a right hand turn coming up. “Don’t we go down here?” asked Harry.
Hermione stopped to consult the map yet again. A few seconds later, she looked up, grinning, “Yes! Finally, we’re here!”
They made the turn and looked at the small street. The houses were small and square, like at Privet Drive, but they were also very different. Unlike at Harry’s Aunt’s house, the gardens were all well looked after, but not to the point of competition between neighbours. The front doors were all different colours, and the whole street looked friendly and…homely.
They walked a little way down the street until they reached number seven. The front door was a sky blue colour. Harry’s hands shook, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and let out a long breath. When he opened his eyes, he shifted his bag into a more comfortable position on his shoulder and walked up the path. He stopped outside the door. Ron put a hand on his shoulder, and Hermione put her hand in his and gave it a friendly squeeze. Those simple gestures said it all. They were here for him, and they understood how hard this was. He put his hand on the doorknob, closed his eyes again, and opened the door.
Opening his eyes, Harry looked into the house he had last seen nearly sixteen years ago, though he couldn’t remember it. The hallway was a pale yellow colour, and a single sunflower sat in a long, thin vase on a small table by the doorway. There were stairs leading up, a door straight in front of him, and another to his left. He took a step forward so he was fully inside. He heard his friends come in after him, and one of them closed the front door softy.
Harry looked around the room. On the wall was a picture of a large group of students. Looking closer, he could spot his mum, dad, Sirius, Remus, Asher, Leanna, and Peter, all smiling and waving at the camera. They were all wearing their best Hogwarts robes, so Harry guessed it was from the end of their seventh year. There were a few other photos on the wall as well, one of them being a Muggle photograph of who Harry was sure were his Grandparents on his mother’s side.
The door to his left led into a light green living room. With comfy, emerald sofas and a large fire, it seemed the perfect family room. Harry walked up to the mantelpiece and picked up the photo frame on it. It was a picture of Lily, James, and a small baby with bright green eyes and a shock of black hair. He stared at the photo for a few seconds, watching his dad play with a lock of his wife’s hair while pulling faces at baby Harry. Lily laughed, her eyes sparkling with life and love.
He felt the back of his eyes prickle. He put the picture back and sat down on the sofa, raking his hands through his hair. There were several different personal touches around the room, like the bookshelf Hermione was currently studying and the broomstick in the corner. Ron sat down next to Harry.
“You okay, mate?” he asked quietly.
Harry sighed, “Yeah…I can’t believe I used to live here. I mean, when I lived at the Dursleys, I always wished my parents would come and pick me up, and then take me home to a house just like this. Turns out I did live in house like this. It was taken from me before I was old enough to remember,” he paused and stood. “Just like them.” He walked back into the hallway and through the door opposite the front door.
Harry walked into a kitchen. It was a large room with a table as big as the one at the Burrow, with a bunch of white and blue flowers in the middle. The walls were a light pastel blue, and the floor was paved in white tiles. It was neat, but not too orderly.
To the left was another doorway leading into the study, where there was an even bigger bookcase and a desk with plenty of parchment, quills, and ink. Harry walked into the small room. Looking at the books on the shelf, he saw they were a mixture of Muggle and Wizard novels.
He turned around and jumped when he saw Hermione in the doorway.
“Whoa, you snuck up on me there!”
“Sorry,” she said, “Well, by the looks of these bookcases I think either your mum or dad loved adventure stories”
“Yeah…”
Harry walked back through the kitchen and into the hallway. He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a second and walked slowly up. Upstairs was pale yellow like the downstairs hallway, and there were more pictures hanging on the walls. The first room Harry entered was what he guessed was his parent’s bedroom. The walls were lilac, and matching quilts were on the large bed. There was a white dressing table and mirror, and a matching wardrobe.
He stepped over to the dressing table and ran his fingers over the edge of the wood. There was a bottle of perfume, a brush, a jewellery box, and some makeup on one side, and on the other was some aftershave and a small, black comb. Closing his eyes again, he could almost see them in here, just talking and laughing, simply living. His eyes stung. A single tear made its way down his cheek. He walked past Ron and Hermione without really seeing them. He knew what was coming next.
He looked at the sign on the next door. Harry’s Room! He put his shaking hand on the handle, but couldn’t bring himself to open the door. He turned away. Screwing his eyes shut and taking deep breaths, he leaned against the wall, slid down, and sat on the floor. Hermione sat next to him, and Ron did the same on his other side. Harry stared straight ahead, his chin resting on his knees.
“Are- Are you okay?” whispered Hermione.
Harry didn’t answer.
“You don’t have to go in there,” said Ron.
Harry let out a short laugh. “I do though. I can’t run from my fears anymore.” Harry stood and forced himself not to think about what he was about to do. He wanted Ginny here with him. He put his hand on the door handle and opened it to reveal a room, his room.
The walls were decorated with wallpaper covered with tiny, flying snitches. In the middle was a cot, the cot his mother had stood in front of to save her only son. She had taken her last breath in this room. Given up the last thing she had, just to save the one she loved, because she had nothing else to give.
In his mind, Harry saw her facing Voldemort, a determined fire in her eyes even through her tears And he saw her lying on the ground, her once vivacious green eyes staring blankly ahead…
Harry took a shuddering breath and drove the images away. Another tear slipped silently out of his eye. He stepped over to the cot and knelt down beside it. Apparently his parents wanted another Quidditch player in the family, probably his dad. The quilts were covered in brooms, bludgers, quaffles, and snitches. There was a mobile above with a moon, sun, and star hanging from it. There was also a large chest in the corner. When Harry walked over and opened it, he found it was full to the brim with toys. On top was a brown teddy that was missing an eye, part of an ear, and its nose was hanging off. Harry laughed, but it came out as more of a strangled sob.
He closed the chest and placed the bear in the cot. For some reason it felt right there. In the other corner was a rocking chair with a pile of nursery rhymes and short story books beside it. Harry swiped his cheeks with his hand and looked over at his friends, who were looking in from the doorway. He smiled slightly at them, and they made their way downstairs and into the back garden. It was fairly large, with a gigantic oak tree, like the one at the Burrow, a small stream, and a picnic table near the doors. Harry saw that one of the tree branches had been made into a swing.
He walked down the garden and sat on the edge of the stream. He was at Godric’s Hollow. He was at his house. He was at the place Voldemort murdered his parents nearly sixteen years ago.
His thoughts were interrupted when Ron and Hermione joined him again.
“What should we do now?” asked the brunette.
Harry looked to his left. In the distance was the graveyard. Hermione, obviously catching onto his train of thought, said they didn’t have to go there today; they could wait until tomorrow.
“No, I’ll go,” Harry replied, “We should leave our bags here; I don’t think we need them just to go there.”
They nodded, but none of them moved. After a few minutes, Harry sighed and stood. He walked back into the house and placed his bag on the kitchen table.
*
Ten minutes later the three friends were standing at the gates to the cemetery. There was a tiny church beside the gates; it looked old and care worn. Beyond that were the graves of hundreds upon hundreds of people. Now Harry had to find his parents.
Taking a steadying breath, Harry walked through the rusty gates and down a thin, grass pathway, worn through by grieving families and friends. Harry glanced at headstones of people he would never meet. Some had lines from poems or songs, and some had just a simple sentence describing who they were engraved into the stone, marble, or granite. People of all ages were buried side by side.
Harry shivered at the thought of all the decomposing bodies he was walking over. His friends were down another path, also searching. Harry looked around once again. To his left a baby of less than a year old, to his right a lady of ninety-three. Each of these people had a story behind them, a story someone would tell so they were never forgotten.
He wasn’t sure how long they had been looking, but after what seemed an impossible amount of time, Harry heard Ron call his name. He and Hermione were standing on top of a slight hill in front of a black headstone.
Harry could feel his heart hammering against his ribs as he approached. He hardly heard Hermione tell him they would wait for him by the gates His eyes were glued to the single headstone, made from what looked like black marble, with gold letters engraved into the smooth surface. It read:
Lily and James Potter
1959-1981
The parents who gave up everything for the one they loved.
May you find peace wherever you may be.
We will never forget
Harry was shaking, and tears prickled the back of his eyes. He dropped to his knees and traced his parents’ names with his finger.
“I would have visited sooner if I could have, but apparently it wasn’t meant to be,” Harry said, his voice shaking from suppressed emotion. Tears started leaking from his eyes. “I’m in kind of a sticky situation at the moment…I could do with some help, if you can give it…or maybe I’m just talking to a piece of rock.”
A warm breeze ruffled his hair, almost inviting him to keep talking. “It’s down to Voldemort and me now, and I won’t let anyone try to protect me from the big, bad world anymore because that stupid tosser always finds a way to get to me by hurting them. I am the only person who can defeat him, so I’m going to face up to my destiny with my head held high.” He looked at the words on the headstone.
The parents who gave up everything for the one they loved.
“You did give up everything for me. So did Sirius and Dumbledore.” Harry swiped his eyes and stood. “And I’m going to destroy the man that led you to it.” Harry kissed the tips of his fingers and placed them on the headstone.
He knew his eyes were red from crying, but he really couldn’t have cared less. He barely realised he was walking towards the gate. He felt temporarily disconnected from the real world as everything suddenly came into perspective. Harry could do this. He could win. He would have to work, but he would win in the end, or else his parents, Dumbledore, and Sirius would have died in vain, and Harry simply wouldn’t accept that.
When he reached the gate, everything was in clearer focus. They walked back to Riverside Close in silence, and then decided to put up the tent in the back garden. When everything was finally set up, the trio stepped inside. There was exactly what Hermione had asked for in there. Harry dumped his rucksack in his “bedroom” and walked into the kitchen and sat at the table with his friends. They just sat and stared.
“Are you okay, Harry?” asked Hermione. How many times has she asked me that today?
“I…am,” he said, surprised at how ‘okay’ he felt. “I think coming here just…I don’t know,” he finished lamely.
“Gave you closure? Or a reason to carry on?” said Ron.
“Yes, I guess it did. Seeing my parents’ graves showed me why I’m doing this. But also, coming here, it just…it showed me I am part of a family, a family of my own, and that’s a comforting thought.”
Enchanted Flames by lisa_lovegood
Author's Notes:
Thanks again to my betas and Stacey!
Chapter 8- Enchanted Flames
It had been three days since Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the Burrow. During that time, they had looked through number 7 Riverside Close from top to bottom. They had not found much that could help them with their task, except a few odd defence books, but had found out a lot about Lily and James Potter as people.
On the bookshelves, for instance, Hermione had found that someone had a taste for muggle adventure stories - in the study was a whole shelf devoted to Robert Louis Stephenson. Harry had a feeling this was his mum’s interest, though he couldn’t be sure...
On closer inspection, they found that the broom in the living room was a Lightning Bolt. Ron had been extremely excited by this, and had to be forcefully calmed down by Harry and Hermione. Once they had pinned him to the sofa, he explained that Lightning Bolts were one of the most sought after brooms ever because there was only around two hundred ever made.
But the most valuable thing Harry found in his two days of searching was not necessarily the most expensive. When he was looking around his parents’ room, he saw a small jewellery box on the dressing table. It was made from a very light wood and had delicate engravings of lilies on the lid. Inside was an assortment of earrings, bracelets, and necklaces. There was also a small drawer on the front. Opening this, Harry found three rings. Two were identical simple gold bands, except one was larger than the other. His parents’ wedding rings.
On the inside were small inscriptions On the smaller ring was the message: My one and only, while the larger one said, My heart and soul. Picking up the last ring with slightly shaky fingers, Harry smiled. It was simple and modest, yet beautiful in its own right, with a single ruby and two shimmering diamonds set either side. This was Lily Potter’s engagement ring.
Harry jumped when he heard someone enter the room.
“What have you got there?” asked Ron as he stepped forward.
“Ron! Harry!” he heard Hermione shout from downstairs.
“We’re in the bedroom!” hollered Ron They soon heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and Hermione entered the room.
“Found anything?” she asked curiously, looking at the rings in Harry’s open palm.
“Wedding rings,” he said, as he sat down on the edge of the bed and held them out for her to see.
She walked over and sat next to Harry, and Ron sat on her other side. He tipped the three rings into her hand for a better look.
“Oh, they’re beautiful! And those inscriptions!” she breathed, holding the engagement ring up to the light, the ruby burning crimson flames and the diamonds glittering like falling stars. Ron took one of the wedding rings from her hand. Harry saw him look at the engraved words, and then run his fingers along them.
“That’s strange, these aren’t engraved…its like they’re part of the gold…I didn’t know you could do that…” he said, his brow creased.
Hermione ran her finger along the other one, and then took the one Ron had and did the same to that. “I think it can be part of your wedding vows, or part of a wedding anyway. But, from what I can remember, it has to have some serious power behind it…” she trailed off.
Suddenly, she got a look in her eyes that clearly said she had an idea. She looked from Harry to the rings, and then placed them carefully on the bed. The boys watched her curiously as she reached behind her neck and removed her necklace, removed the heart shaped pendant from the thin gold chain, and then slid on the two gold bands.
“Turn around, Harry,” she ordered. He obliged and she clasped the chain around his neck.
“You don’t have to “” Harry started, but she interrupted him.
“No, but I want to.”
He smiled at her in thanks. She swooped over and gave him a warm hug.
“That’s what sisters are for,” she said as she pulled away. Hermione picked up the engagement ring and walked over to the dressing table. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out a small ring box and placed the ruby and diamond clad ring in it. She then gave this to Harry, and both he and Ron stood, Harry tucking the chain into his shirt.
“Where else is there to look?” asked Ron.
“Only the attic left,” answered Hermione.
In the attic they found some very interesting things. Harry found his baby book, some photo albums, a few clothes for newborn babies, a box full of odd baby toys (such as a tiny, blue rattle), and old Hogwarts textbooks.
Harry decided to take a few things with him: the rings, two defence books, a photo album, his baby book, and to keep Hermione happy, Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stephenson. He carried these things down to the tent and placed them all except the novel, which he planned to give Hermione, and the rings around his neck, into the box Bill and Fleur gave him for his Birthday. He shrunk it and deposited it in his rucksack
Coming out of his small bedroom, he went over to the curtain which concealed Hermione’s bedroom, intending to put the book with her things. Not even thinking to knock or announce his presence, he swept the curtain aside to find Ron and Hermione snogging on her bed. They didn’t seem to notice him, so he turned around and closed the curtain swiftly, his cheeks burning.
He moved back into his bedroom and sat on the bed. He stared aimlessly around, looking at the low, canvas ceiling, the carpeted floor, the cream sheets, and the crimson curtain. Picking up his backpack, he rummaged around for something to eat. His fingers clasped around something cold and round. He pulled it out. It was the fake Slytherin locket; the smooth gold surface glittered in the candle light.
All the memories from Dumbledore and Harry’s visit to the cave flooded into his brain. Apparating, swimming to the cave mouth, Dumbledore cutting himself to gain entry, the boat ride across the lake, Harry force feeding Dumbledore Potion, Dumbledore collapsing, Inferi and their rotting bodies moving closer and closer...
Harry’s fist closed around the locket and he walked outside. The afternoon sunlight was warm and bright, but there were large, black clouds in the distance, hinting approaching thunderstorms.
He pushed himself gently on the swing with his legs, reading through the note from R.A.B. Who was he?
What could he tell from the note itself? Well, the writer obviously knew about the Horcruxes, and he, assuming it was a he, knew he was going to die…he used the term “Dark Lord” instead of Voldemort or You-Know-Who, so it was probably a Death Eater.
“Harry!” Hermione’s voice sounded from the tent. Harry smirked to himself.
“I’m out here!” Hermione came out, her hair decidedly bushier than usual. “Been having fun?” Harry questioned innocently.
Her cheeks burnt crimson. “Err, what? Oh, um, no, just the, uh, usual.”
Harry snorted, but managed to hide it behind a violent coughing fit. This seemed to annoy her, and she changed the topic.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked.
“I’m looking at this note. Any idea who R.A.B. is yet?” Harry replied, passing her the note.
She shook her head vaguely, “No…not yet…” Ron appeared from the tent holding three Butterbeers.
“Anyone want a drink?”
Harry nodded, giving Ron a smirk Malfoy would have been proud of. Ron ignored him and chucked him the bottle. He sat down next to Hermione and read the note over her shoulder. Shrugging, he leant back on the grass and closed his eyes.
When Harry had finished his Butterbeer and was flipping the locket round and round through his fingers, Hermione sighed and passed the note back to him.
“I just can’t think…I have never heard of anyone with those initials that could possibly have anything to do with Voldemort, or at least have knowledge of the Horcruxes.”
“But anyone could have been on Voldemort’s side at that time, but we wouldn’t know “ I mean, who keeps a list of all the Death Eaters in the world?” said Ron.
Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Ron! You’re a genius!” she squealed in a very un-Hermione-like fashion.
“Err, I am?”
“He is?” interjected Harry.
“Yes! The ministry! They keep tracks on all the Death Eaters; they must have records of past ones as well!”
“Yeah!” said Harry. “But … but how are we going to get the records from them? I don’t think they would just let you walk in and take them as you please.”
Hermione bit her lip for a second before snapping her fingers as an idea apparently hit her. “Tonks, Kingsley - they’re Aurors and part of the Order; we could ask them to get us the records…on second thought, maybe the Order has their own copy.
Harry grinned; they were finally getting somewhere. “So, should we go to Grimmauld Place now, or go to the house of Gaunt and the Riddle house first?”
“We should go where we originally planned because if mum sees us, she will probably drag us back home by our ears.”
“That’s true. So, we go where we planned, and then we go to headquarters,” said Hermione in her business-like tone.
*
“So this is it?” said Ron, barely managing to detangle his lanky legs from a large bush where a path was supposed to be.
Harry nearly fell when he dragged himself onto a patch of overgrown grass in front of a large mound of brick, leaves, and moss. On closer inspection, he could distinguish holes in the bricks where windows and a door used to be, many years ago. “Yep,” he said, brushing off his jeans.
The house of Gaunt was even more derelict than when Harry had last seen it in Dumbledore’s Pensieve, as around seventy years had passed since Ogden had come to visit Marvolo Gaunt.
The two boys both spun around when they heard crunching and snapping coming from the bushes behind them. A pile of nettles sliced in half by some unseen force, and then Hermione appeared in the now clear area of the walk.
“Ever heard of a severing charm?” she asked, while putting her wand back in her jeans pocket and tugging a twig from her hair.
Ron opened his mouth, apparently to say something, but snapped it shut again.
As the three neared the squat, Harry removed his wand from the waistband of his jeans, just in case. Walking through the empty doorway, Harry looked around. Dust was inches thick on the floors that used to be stone, but now seemed almost carpeted in over half a century of grime. His footsteps seemed oddly muffled, and the very air around him was heavy with grime, scratching at his eyes and making it almost unbearably stuffy.
Just as he remembered, to his left was what used to be the kitchen and the living room. There were three other doors connecting to the entrance, though Harry didn’t know what was behind them. He heard Hermione sneeze behind him, and Ron whispered, “Lumos.” Harry turned to look at him; he had lit his wand and was stepping towards the kitchen.
“This is the place you saw in the memory, right Harry?” asked Hermione, lighting her own wand to get a better look at the dilapidated old cottage.
“Yeah,” Harry said, taking in the pots and pans on the back wall near the wood burning oven and next to a window, which had only a few beams of dusty light piercing through the layers of brambles covering it. The almost non-recognisable chair on the other side of the room, near the fireplace, was lying on its side.
Harry closed his eyes. He could virtually see the Gaunt family in the cottage, Merope cooking at the stove, Marvolo sitting on his chair in an almost stately manor, Morfin twisting his pet snake in his fingers, hissing in Parsletongue.
Hissy, hissy, little snakey
Slither on the floor,
You be good to Morphin,
Or he'll nail you to the-
“- are we looking for? Harry?”
Harry’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Ron’s voice. He looked over at him; he was currently looking round in circles. “Sorry, what was that?”
He looked at Harry. “What are we looking for?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that Dumbledore found a Horcrux here, so maybe there are some clues as to how Voldemort hides them or how to destroy them.”
As the trio made their way through the house, Harry found that the other three rooms were all bedrooms, with nothing more than a bed and a tiny trunk at the end of each of them. An hour passed and still they found nothing, making Harry frustrated.
“I just don’t know what to look for!” he spat, after the fourth search of the living room.
“Calm down, Harry, we will find …” Hermione trailed off as her eyes found the old fireplace. She stepped forward, studying each brick inside it. Ron joined Harry as he closely watched Hermione run her fingers around each brick. She had crawled onto the hearth, so her slim frame was almost fully inside.
After a few moments, Hermione’s fingers had closed around a loose brick, but just as she was about the pull it out, Harry got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Voldemort wouldn’t make it that easy. Voldemort wouldn’t make it as seemingly risk free as pulling a brick out. And with speed Harry didn’t even know he possessed, he scrambled forward and seized Hermione about the waist, pulling her back with all his might.
Then several things happened at once.
Ron’s surprised exclamation of “Harry!” and Hermione’s startled scream penetrated the thick silence, and then, as Harry fell backwards onto the cold, stone floor, Hermione landing on top of him, a deafening roar sounded through the cottage, and suddenly the trio was bathed in yellow-orange light.
Ron quickly helped Hermione up and she collapsed into his arms. Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, while he tried to get his lungs working again after having all the air forced out by Hermione’s fall.
Harry looked into the fireplace with wide eyes; it was an unbelievable sight. What used to be a completely empty, grey, and cold hearth was now overflowing with brilliant flames, reaching, flicking, grabbing for something to burn. The flames were entrancing, inviting, and Harry found himself reaching one hand forward, enthralled by the sizzling melody they were dancing to.
As his fingertips moved closer, he felt the skin start to burn with the intensive heat, but he didn’t back away or even flinch. In the back of his mind, he could hear two people, a male and female, shouting a name, but were they calling his name? What was his name? His mind was completely confused; the only thing that stayed solid in his view was that tormenting blaze. His fingers were about to touch the flames when a pair of strong hands seized him by the shoulders and pulled him back forcefully, breaking his eye contact.
For a second Harry felt angry, hot, boiling anger, but then the haze that had taken over his mind suddenly disappeared, and his actions slammed into him with full force. His heart was beating somewhere around his Adam’s apple, and his breathing was coming in short gasps. He scrambled to his feet and Hermione threw her arms around him, shaking and crying. Then suddenly she pulled back and whacked his arm with surprising force
“Don’t you ever do that again, Harry Potter! You scared me so much!” she shouted, tears still streaming from her eyes. Ron picked himself up off the floor and stepped forward to punch him on the arm as well. He looked pale and Harry noticed his hands were shaking ever so slightly.
“You gave us a bit of a shock there, mate. What was up with you? You looked like you were in a trance or something!”
Hermione wiped her eyes and looked over at the now innocently burning flames “Enchanted Flames,” she stated. “Look too close and they enchant you, hypnotise you, make you want to move closer, and then…you can guess the rest.” She bravely strode forward, stopping when she was still five feet away from the fireplace She stretched her arm forward, keeping her eyes fixed on a point to the left of the fire, but jerked her hand back when it was still some two feet away. “And apparently very hot. Much hotter than usual flames anyway.”
Harry looked down at his fingers, which by now were hurting like hell. The skin on the tips of all four of his fingers was red and swollen, and small blisters were starting to erupt. When he tried to flex them, he grimaced; it felt like his skin was being stretched beyond its limits.
“Can’t it be put out?” asked Ron.
“Yes, I suppose it can, but I don’t know how. Enchanted Flames are seriously complex, ancient magic. Water can’t put these fires out; in fact, I think it makes them worse,” Hermione paused, looking thoughtful. “What if…” she muttered to herself more than to anyone else.
“What if…?” said Ron, with raised eyebrows.
She looked pensive for a moment longer and then continued. “I think the Horcrux was behind those flames before Dumbledore got to it …so maybe those flames were the cause of Dumbledore’s dead hand last year. If he was caught off guard with those flames like me, he must have gotten his arm burnt.” Hermione looked Harry straight in the eye. “Thank you so much, Harry, for pulling me away from there; who knows what could have happened if you hadn’t gotten me out of the way.”
Harry smiled through the pain from his hand “No problem, and thank you two for stopping me.”
“Come on, I think we should get out of here before anyone else nearly gets burnt to a crisp,” said Ron, leading the way back outside.
Harry’s eyes watered when bright sunlight reached his eyes. According to his watch, it was now half-past three in the afternoon.
Hermione sat Harry down on a moss-covered rock and carefully examined his fingers.
“Well, I think I can fix them,” she said, conjuring a large porcelain bowl and filling it with cold water.
“You think you can fix them?” said Harry, startled.
She ignored him and placed his hand in the water. “Stay there for five minutes.” Ron sat down next to Harry while Hermione rummaged round her rucksack, eventually pulling out a book titled Hilda Hodshawk’s Guide to Healing. After flipping through the pages at an alarming speed, Hermione came to an abrupt halt and read through what Hilda advised.
“Right, you can take your hand out of there now, Harry, and show it to me, please.” Harry did as she ordered. Hermione then performed several spells and conjured a roll of bandage. The final spell removed most of the pain, and the redness in his fingers was already lessening. After bandaging his hand, Hermione announced that was all she could do for now, put her book back in her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. The boys did the same, and Harry took one last look at the house of Gaunt before continuing on to their second destination of the day.
*
The trio was walking down a steep, dirt track that led down the side of the Valley into little Hangleton at the bottom. The dirt beneath their feet was very loose and full of stones, so every time the wind blew Harry got a face full of dust and nearly lost his footing on the near vertical track.
Hermione was striding ahead of the two boys, used to walking in such conditions as her parents apparently both loved walking while on their holidays. Harry had to walk behind her as the path was only wide enough for one person, and Ron came in behind him, hardly able to keep track on his gangly legs
“How far to- ahhh!” Ron was cut off when he tripped on a rock and went flying forwards, straight into Harry, who landed on his stomach with Ron on top. Hermione turned round and looked down at the pitiful pair.
“Will you boys stop messing around and hurry up? It would be greatly appreciated if we get there some time before Christmas.”
Harry and Ron disentangled their limbs. “Gods, Hermione, I fell!” said Ron, brushing dirt off his jeans.
Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry, I’m still on edge from that fire.”
Ron walked over and hugged her, before kissing her cheek and continuing down the path. Looking over his shoulder, he grinned and shouted, “Any time today, Harry!”
Harry just scowled at the red head.
*
“Whoa.”
“Ron, close your mouth.”
“But…look at the size of it!”
Hermione and Harry laughed at Ron’s reaction to the Riddle house. Harry had to admit, this house was huge. It had large, slightly unkempt, red brick walls. It would take him and his two friends hours to search, and he didn’t even know what he was looking for
After four stops, three different directions, many questions, and countless curious looks, they had finally gotten there two and-a-half hours after they set off. The Valley was much larger than they had expected.
“Does anyone live in there?” asked Ron.
“Doesn’t look like it. The garden’s overgrown and there isn’t any sign of life anywhere. Plus, remember how all the locals whispered when we asked for directions? They are scared of this place,” answered Hermione, as they made their way through the long grass towards the back of the building.
“You can’t really blame them. Four people have died here, all from unknown, mysterious causes,” added Harry, sidestepping a large patch of nettles. “Well, unknown to them.”
After forcing their way through the back door, the teens split up. Hermione went to the ground floor, Harry to the first floor, and Ron to the second. Harry climbed the dusty, rickety stairs and had the most uncomfortable feeling he’d been there before. He got to the top of the stairs and walked down the corridor, following this strange feeling. He came to the last door on the left. He slowly pushed the door open, and with a jolt, suddenly realised why things seemed so familiar.
Stepping into the room, he saw the old, threadbare winged-back chair and the ragged hearthrug in front of the large, cold grate. Voldemort had been here, three years ago, hiding in his only part-human form Wormtail had milked Nagini, Voldemort’s snake, in this house to keep his master alive. Voldemort had killed a Muggle here, in the doorway, and Harry had watched it all in a dream.
Harry turned slowly on the spot, not knowing where to start. He decided to check the fireplace first. Well, he thought, it’s worth a try.
*
Harry woke suddenly from his vivid dream. They didn’t bother him all that much anymore; he was used to them. Harry lay in his warm bed thinking about the day before.
They had spent hours searching through the large manor; until the sun set and they were forced to retire to the tent so as not to draw unwanted attention to themselves. They had gained no more than several sneezing fits, dirty clothes, and dust in the most inconvenient of places.
Harry took a quick, but refreshing shower before dressing and going outside. It was a cloudy day, warm, with a cooling breeze. Looking up at the old house, Harry could almost imagine it without the boarded or smashed windows; without the tattered paintwork and overgrown garden. Almost.
Harry could just see a small building peeking out between two large hedges further in the garden. Ron and Hermione were both still asleep, so he made his way between the unkempt hedges. He managed to earn himself a cut on his arm from moving too close to a rose bush, and nearly fell flat over a tree root, but he eventually got to the front door.
With the second jolt in his stomach in less than twenty-four hours, Harry knew this place. The Muggle who had been murdered by Voldemort - this was where he lived. Looking back over in the direction of the house, Harry could just see through a gap in the thick branches, a plain view of the back windows.
Harry tried the door, and it opened with a loud, grating screech of rusty hinges. Stepping inside, it was as if time had been put on hold. If it wasn’t for the thick layer of dust covering everything, Harry would have thought someone still lived here.
He was standing in a kitchen. On the cooker was a kettle, and on the worktop beside, a faded hot water bottle. In the corner were several gardening tools, and under the table, a pair of old leather boots. Harry felt as if the owner of this house was going to walk in the door at any moment and tell him to get out of his home.
Harry quickly exited the way he came in and returned to the tent to find Hermione inside, eating a breakfast of toast and jam. She seemed to be deep in thought, as she usually was. When Harry placed himself on the chair opposite her and took a piece of toast from her plate, she came out of her reverie and rolled her eyes.
“Honestly, you’re as bad as Ron.”
Harry grinned over his toast. “Never.”
She laughed. “Where have you been, anyway?”
“Exploring,” he said, between mouthfuls.
“Okay, and what did you find?” she asked, putting more jam on her last slice of toast, before cutting it in half and offering Harry a piece.
“The old gardener’s house,” said Harry, accepting the offered toast and taking another large bite, having not noticed how hungry he was until now. “It’s creepy. Exactly how he left it before…” Harry trailed off.
Hermione was silent for a moment, realising the implications of what he said. “So to the graveyard this morning?” she said, changing the subject.
“Yep.” This was the place Harry had secretly been dreading the most; the place Voldemort had gotten his body back over two years ago, where Harry had faced him for the first time since he was a baby; the place Cedric was murdered.
*
“Where about is it, Harry?” Hermione asked, as they walked past headstone after headstone. They were now on the opposite side of the Valley Harry could see the Riddle Manor and would know when he was in the right place from the angle he saw it at.
“Not far, just a little more up this hill.”
Not long after, Harry stopped dead in his tracks, causing Ron to slam into his back.
“Harry?” he asked, obviously curious as to why he had stopped walking so suddenly. But Harry couldn’t have answered if he had tried - there was a lump the size of a snitch stuck in his throat.
Taking several steps forward, Harry came to a halt in front of a towering headstone made of white marble. It had a name engraved on the moss-covered face:
TOM RIDDLE
Harry could remember how terrified he was that night two years ago; how he was so sure he was going to die. He could hear that high, cold voice: Kill the Spare.
He looked around at his friends. Ron was looking at several headstones that had large holes blasted out of them or were completely smashed, but Hermione was looking at something at the foot at Tom Riddle senior’s grave, her eyes wide. Harry looked down and soon knew why she looked so shocked. There were thick ropes - the ropes with which Wormtail had tied him to Voldemort’s father’s grave. Hermione crouched down and picked one up. She looked at Harry with the traces of tears in here eyes.
“Did they “” she started, but Harry cut her off.
“Yes,” he said, not meeting her eyes, walking towards a clearing in the graves. He closed his eyes and he was here, holding onto his wand for dear life, the shadows of his parents in front of his eyes, the phoenix song in his ears, surrounded by a golden cage, Voldemort opposite him, so desperate to kill him Now Harry knew why…
He opened his eyes, and they automatically landed on a piece of grass opposite Riddle’s gravestone, the place where the spare had been killed. Unwanted pictures and memories of Cedric’s dead body filled his mind. His expressionless grey eyes, wide open, his face as pale as chalk, his mouth half open, looking slightly surprised. Harry shook his head of these pictures and looked off into the distance, down towards the village.
He could see a white bird, flying quickly but with grace. It was only a small speck in the distance, but it was getting closer…
“Harry,” said Hermione, from the other side of the clearing. She opened her mouth to say something, but her brow furrowed as she squinted into the distance. Harry looked over and saw she had spotted the white bird too. It was getting closer now. But, now that he thought about it, that bird looked very familiar…
“Hedwig?” Harry heard Ron question.
Harry felt his stomach drop and his heart shoot somewhere about his Adam’s apple, as he remembered the word he had with Ginny the morning he left The Burrow. He had told her to look after Hedwig, and only use her to get in touch with them if there was a serious emergency.
Harry ripped his eyes away from his snowy owl and looked over at Ron and Hermione, who both looked pale and nervous.
The seconds seemed to take eternity, but Hedwig finally reached them and dropped a scrap of parchment at Harry’s feet. With somewhat shaky fingers, he picked it up. The writing was barely legible; it seemed to have been written in a hurry.
Get to you-know-where NOW.
Wards being breached at Burrow
-Ginny
Chapter 9-Changes
Harry felt the colour drain from his cheeks, and he hastily passed the note to Ron. They both grabbed their bags and were ready to Apparate when Hermione grabbed their arms to stop them.
“Hermione!” they said in unison.
“We have to get to Grimmauld place, not The Burrow, where I know too well you were planning to go.”
“Hermione, The Burrow is my home! I have to go and help!” said Ron, outraged.
“And what if you Apparate right in the middle of some crossfire?” She exclaimed, poking Ron in the chest with her index finger. “What happens if you Apparate right into some Death Eaters? Or, if the Order has them and you set the wards off again? I’ll tell you what will happen; you will get hurt!” She took a deep breath and continued in a much calmer tone. “We will go to Headquarters, just like Ginny said, and we will find out what happened there. It might have even been a false alarm.” Hermione didn’t seem too confident in that last statement.
“But “”
“No buts, Ron. We are going to Headquarters.” The tone of her voice was almost a growl, and it was, in Harry’s opinion, scary. Ron and Harry looked at each other, and then back at Hermione. She was hastily picking up her bag, and with a quailing glance, snarled, “Don’t even think about it. I will side-along you to headquarters if I have to.”
Harry could tell that the last thing Ron, and he for that matter, wanted to do was go to number twelve, Grimmauld Place to just wait for news. But Harry also knew Hermione had a good point.
“Come on, Ron. There’s no time to argue,” he said, and Apparated to his inherited house.
Harry barely registered the dirty and run-down street he had landed in before he ran down it as fast as he could, Hermione and Ron hot on his heals. He was ready to slam straight through the door, but at the last second he remembered the ghastly portrait of Mrs. Black, who screamed ear-splitting abuse every time she was disturbed.
Coming to a screeching halt, Harry tapped the peeling paint with his wand and heard several locks click from inside. Cautiously, he pushed opened the heavy, black door.
It was dark and dank in the House of Black. Not a single sound could be heard in the hallway. Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly and silently made their way down the stairs towards the kitchen. There was a beam of light coming from under the heavy door, and because of its flickering quality, Harry presumed it was from the fireplace.
They opened the door and saw a single Weasley. She was sitting at the table, curled up like a cat. Her brown eyes shone brightly in the firelight that lit the kitchen. They snapped up as the three friends rushed into the room. Harry rushed towards her and knelt in front of her. Taking her hand, he asked, “What happened?”
She hugged Harry tightly. “The wards were being breached,” she said, in a surprisingly steady voice. “Mum sent me here and forbade me to leave until someone gave me permission. She blocked the Floo, the hag. I haven’t heard anything for over an hour!”
“Did they “I mean, you don’t think…” Hermione let her voice trail off. She sat heavily in a seat next to Ron, who had his head in his hands.
Harry stared into the fireplace. This war was getting serious. In less than a month, he had been involved or nearly involved in three attacks by Death Eaters.
The minutes passed. No one said a word.
The clock in the corner ticked away; no one moved when it chimed three times to signal the hour. Ginny was holding Harry’s hand as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Hermione was drumming her fingernails on the worn wood of the table, and Ron had taken to pacing. Harry was staring at the door, willing it to open and everyone to come spilling through it, announcing it was just a false alarm.
The waiting reminded Harry very much of Christmas two years ago, when Mr. Weasley had been bitten by a snake while on duty for The Order.
More minutes passed, and Harry was getting as restless as Ron. Just as he was getting tempted to do something drastic, the kitchen door slammed open, jolting the four teens out of their reveries. Molly, Asher, and Remus rushed through the door. Other than minor cuts and bruises, they seemed to be fine. Asher and Remus collapsed into chairs while Molly grabbed her children and squeezed them to the point of near suffocation.
Harry and Hermione, who were not in Molly’s arms, immediately bombarded Asher and Remus with questions.
“What happened?”
“Is everyone alright?”
“Is The Burrow safe?”
“Where is everyone else?”
“Slow down, people! Everyone is fine! The rest of the Weasleys are at The Burrow, strengthening the wards,” said Asher, holding her hands out in front of her.
“And Tonks has gone to the ministry to report the Death Eater activity,” added Remus.
“Mum,” said Ginny once her mum had let go of her, only to swoop down on Harry and Hermione instead. “How much damage is there?”
Molly wiped a tear from her eye, and with a relieved smile said, “Not much, dear, only some spell damage on the outer walls.”
“So, are we going back then?”
Mrs. Weasley shared an uneasy look with Asher and Remus before answering, “I’ll have to speak to your father about that; we are staying the night here though. It’s not safe enough at home.”
Over the next few hours, more people like Charlie, Fred, George, and Tonks, who had helped in protecting The Burrow, arrived at Twelve, Grimmauld Place. No more Death Eaters had attempted to attack the Weasley’s home; they had all Disapparated when they knew they weren’t going to win.
“Right, kids-” Ron rolled his eyes. “-Go amuse yourselves for awhile, the meeting’s about to start,” ordered Mrs. Weasley, ushering them out the room and up the stairs towards the entrance hall. “And no trying to listen at the door,” she added sternly.
Ginny huffed and lead Harry up the stairs by the hand and into the room she and Hermione had shared the summer before Harry’s fifth year, with Ron and Hermione following.
Harry and Ginny sat on one bed, and Ron and Hermione sat opposite them on the other. They just stared at each other.
Ron broke the silence. “That was a close call.”
“Understatement of the century,” muttered Ginny as she closed her eyes and fell backwards so she was lying on her back.
“So, what’s been happening at The Burrow while we were gone? Apart from Death Eater attacks, that is,” Harry added as an afterthought, with a short laugh.
“Well, Asher is still living with us. She’s so great, constantly laughing and making jokes. She always has the wireless or her music box on, permanently singing. She’s a bit like Tonks, really, but different as well…” Ginny trailed off and laughed. “I have…had a game of Quidditch with Charlie…helped mum with washing…de-gnomed the garden…worried about you three.” She opened her eyes and shot a pointed look at each of them. “What have you been up to?”
The trio shared a look, but before they could say anything, she continued. “I know, I know, you can’t tell me anything. Why, though? Can’t you trust me?” She sat up and set her gaze on Harry.
“Of course I trust you, but I can’t let too many people know. It will-“
“Put me in more danger,” Ginny mimicked.
“Yes,” said Harry. She stood and walked over to the window overlooking the street below, arms crossed over her chest. Harry shared a glance with his two friends, then walked over and stood behind her. He snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek softly. “I’m sorry.”
She tried to pull away from him, but he kept his arms around her. “Do you mind, Potter,” she said harshly, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “I’m trying to be annoyed with you.”
Harry chuckled, but she kept a determinedly straight face. He kissed her cheek again. “Really, really sorry.” Her lip twitched. “Promise.” Harry heard a giggle try to contain itself in her throat, but the attempt was useless; she laughed. He grinned and she slowly spun round to face him.
“I missed you,” she said. “It was horrible not knowing what you were doing or where you were. Everyone tried to keep me busy, especially Asher, but I knew they were all worried too…” she trailed off and leant forward to give Harry a proper welcome.
“Please, don’t do that while I’m in the room, I’m “ Ouch!” Harry and Ginny turned to find Ron rubbing his side, casting Hermione a disgruntled glance as she smirked.
An hour later, there was a knock on the door and Asher peered around it. “You can come down now. The meeting’s over,” she said.
The teens stood up from where they had been sitting, chatting like teenagers do, and hurried to the door, all not-so-secretly hoping to catch snippets of conversation from the meeting. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny leaned over the banister to find Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin talking directly below them, in hushed voices just loud enough to be heard.
“-be ridiculous, Alastor; he wasn’t the reason The Burrow was attacked,” said Lupin. “The Weasley’s knew the risks when they joined the Order.”
“Don’t be a fool, Remus. You saw them; they were looking for him, and when they saw he wasn’t there they started retreating,” the former Auror argued gruffly. “The only-” Moody suddenly stopped talking, turned, and looked up at the four shocked faces, none more shocked than Harry himself. Raising a gnarled hand in farewell, Mad-Eye limped out the front door.
Harry stared after him, as shockwaves of realisation swept over him. The ‘he’ Moody was talking about was him. How could he not have realised? The Death Eaters only attacked The Burrow because they thought he was there. He’d done it again; put the ones he cared about in danger…
“Harry!” He snapped out of his trance when he was spun round so his face was inches from Ginny’s. She had a furious fire in her brown eyes. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. Even if those Death Eaters were sent out for you, guess what? We. Don’t. Care. The Burrow isn’t too seriously damaged and neither was anyone who fought. Now, forget about what that stupid old codger said and get into the kitchen; I’m hungry.”
Harry gaped at Ginny, gob smacked at how she could read him like that. He heard a chuckle and a snort from below and looked down. Remus had a smile playing at his lips, and Asher had a hand over her mouth, apparently to stop her giggles.
Harry and Ginny shared a glace. “What?” they asked at the same time, making the two adults laugh even more.
“You just remind me so much of Lily and James. It’s unreal,” said Asher, shaking her head and walking back down the steps into the kitchen, her heels tapping on the stone floor.
As they made their way into the kitchen, no matter what Ginny had said, Harry still had that hot, bubbling sensation of guilt forming in his stomach. Apparently it must have shown on his face, because Ginny entwined her fingers with his and squeezed gently.
There was not as much idle chatter at dinner as there usually was at a Weasley meal, but that was to be expected. After all, their home had been nearly destroyed earlier that day.
Later, when Harry happened to look down at the other side of the table, he noticed that Charlie was still there; the last thing he knew Charlie was going back to the dragon reserve in Romania. When Harry asked Ginny about this, she explained that Charlie had been offered a job at another dragon reserve in Wales. He had taken the offer straight away.
“He said he took the job for mum’s sake mostly,” she said in hushed tones. “She was so worried about him going so far from home in times like these.”
“So where is Charlie living now?” asked Hermione, inviting herself into the conversation.
“Home, up until he can find somewhere to rent. Apparently not many people are willing to offer their property, for any number of Galleons. They’re suspicious; anyone could be a Death Eater in disguise. People are scared. So for now, both Asher and Charlie are still staying with us.”
When everyone had finished eating, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and looked over at his two youngest children, Harry, and Hermione
“Molly and I have come to the decision that, with Harry’s permission, we will stay here at headquarters for at least the remainder of the holidays. Now that You-Know-Who knows where our family is situated, it is too dangerous to return to The Burrow.”
Ginny was the first to react to this revelation. “We have to stay here?” she said, glancing around the dark room.
Arthur looked at Harry. “With Harry’s permission, yes.”
It took Harry a second to realise why the Weasleys would need his permission; he owned this house. “Oh right, yeah, of course you can stay. If you really want to…”
Ginny looked from Harry to her parents with a slack jaw, a look that said she seemed set to argue. And argue she did. “But mum! We’ve got so much protection on The Burrow! And it’s even safer now; Charlie and Bill renewed all the wards, didn’t they?”
Molly stood; walking behind her daughter, she placed her hands on Ginny’s shoulders, and said with a sigh, “The Burrow is simply not secure enough. Even with the new wards,” she added, when Ron opened his mouth to say something. “The Death Eaters have found its location; we have to leave.” Molly seemed to be using all her willpower to keep her voice steady, but her voice wavered a little nevertheless.
Ginny gave no more arguments after that, but Harry had a suspicion that it was for her mother’s sake rather than agreement with the decision.
“Why’d you let that go so easily? You usually keep arguing for hours,” he asked Ginny when conversation started again.
She gave him a scathing look. “Mum’s been a mess this last week. The war’s gone up a gear, again. Didn’t you hear about all those Dementor attacks around Newcastle and Manchester? But anyway, absolutely anything will set her off. She sent me and Charlie to our rooms because I refused to help him with something. She was in such a state Charlie actually did go to his room.” A small chuckle escaped both their throats at the idea of Charlie, who was well over age, still being sent to his room.
“Come on, get to bed kids, it’s been a long day,” said Molly from the sink, where she was charming the dinner plates to clean themselves. With many moans and groans, the four friends bid goodnight to everyone and walked up the stairs, being careful not to wake Mrs. Black.
Harry didn’t say anything as they climbed the stairs. After all the shock of today’s events had worn off, he finally realised he was in twelve Grimmauld Place. The place where Sirius had been kept virtually a prisoner for months on end, which got him so frustrated, he burst out of its door to save Harry and ended up being murdered by his own cousin…
Unbeknownst to him, Harry’s pace slowed as he remembered Sirius. He shivered as he remembered how his godfather had been so depressed here; he thought he had rid himself of this place forever when he walked out at sixteen, only to return years later.
“Come on, Harry,” said Ginny, successfully pulling him out of his reverie as they reached the landing outside her bedroom. Ron and Hermione had carried on up another flight of stairs to say “goodnight” in private.
“I’m sorry,” said Harry. Ginny looked at him as if he had grown three extra heads.
“What for?” she asked.
“For everything; for your home being attacked, for causing you to have to stay here-”
“Oh, don’t start, Harry. I already told you, it wasn’t your fault! So stop with your sob story and say goodnight.” She finished with a grin and a twinkle in her eye. Harry had to laugh lightly at the suggestive glimmer.
Harry took a step closer to her so their faces were inches apart and stared into those deep, brown pools that were her eyes. It wasn’t the first time Harry noticed that her eyes were not just plain brown, but had darker flecks in them. He also had noticed that when she was angry or determined her eyes almost had a fire burning in their depths.
Ginny leaned slightly closer; they were so close he could feel her warm breath against his lips. “Well, when you’re done staring…” she whispered.
Harry closed the remaining space between them and showed her just how much he had missed her. He thought he heard someone clear their throat behind him, but ignored it. The throat clearing came louder this time, and Harry’s brain finally caught up with him. Ripping his mouth from Ginny’s, they turned to see Asher, her eyebrows waggling suggestively.
“Having fun?” she asked innocently.
Harry felt himself start to blush, but when he chanced a glance at Ginny, he was surprised to see a satisfied smile on her face.
“Yep, certainly am,” she said.
Asher laughed and shook her head. “It was a good job I found you, not one of your brothers. I’m pretty sure they didn’t know you could do that with your tongue, Harry, especially to their baby sister.” Somehow, Asher managed to keep a straight face.
Harry closed his eyes and groaned in embarrassment. “Okay, I think that’s my cue to go to bed. Night Ginny, Asher.” He gave Ginny a peck on the cheek and passed Hermione, who was coming back down the stairs as he went up, her cheeks pink.
*
“Wakey, wakey boys!”
Harry grunted at the cheerful voice and buried further into his duvet. Even the beds in Grimmauld were comfier than the ones in the tent, so Harry was savouring every moment.
Quite suddenly, the forest green cover over Harry was ripped off, and judging by the yelp of surprise, so was Ron’s. After the scraping sound of opening curtains reached his ears, the room was full of blinding sunlight. He fumbled for his glasses for a moment, before shoving them on his nose and squinting up at the person standing in the middle of the room.
Asher smirked at them. “Time to wake up, my friends; Molly’s got bacon!”
With another grunt, Harry dragged himself out of bed, but Ron just rolled over and promptly fell back to sleep.
The dark-haired woman sighed. “I hoped I wouldn’t have to resort to this…” she pulled out her wand, and with a long vertical swishing motion, the room suddenly filled with the deafening, screeching sound of a violin being played by someone very inexperienced. Ron fell out of bed with a loud thump.
“I’m up, I’m up!” he shouted, when Asher lowered her wand and Harry felt it safe to remove his hands from over his ears.
Asher left the room so the boys could get changed, with a dire warning that if they went back to sleep she would cause them serious pain and bodily damage. She topped the threat off with a cheery smile and a wave before shutting the door behind her.
It had been a day since Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place. Yesterday the Weasleys, Harry, Asher, and Hermione had collected all they would need from The Burrow and brought it there. Asher had been ecstatic about getting her music box back; she had evidently missed music, even for one night.
After dressing, the two boys made their way down the stairs. They passed Molly, who was muttering about her daughter, who had yet to show any signs of life, even after Asher’s wake up call.
Harry and Ron shared a glance when they heard music dimly coming from the kitchen. When they got there, a strange sight met their eyes. Remus and Hermione were sitting at the large, wooden table, laughing at two women, one with bright pink hair, in black work robes, and one with raven hair, dancing and singing along to the open music box.
Move your body like a hairy troll
Learning to rock and roll
Spin around like a crazy 'elf
A' Dancin' by himself
Harry stifled a laugh. Tonks and Asher were both very good dancers, but Harry would never have guessed he would find them dancing and singing in the middle of this kitchen at this time of the day.
I boogie down like a unicorn
No stoppin' till the break of dawn
Put your hands up in the air
Like a dog, or just don't care
The boys sat down at the table, laughing. Suddenly, Tonks stopped dead and stared at her watch.
“Oh bugger! I’m late!” She rushed over to the table, knocking over a chair, and grabbed her shoes. Hopping as she pulled them on, she gave Remus a peck on his cheek and rushed from the room, leaving Asher alone, mid-dance, in the middle of the room.
“It seems I have lost my dance partner,” Asher stated. “Anyone want bacon?”
*
Harry walked into the library, hearing the sound of music. Over the to of the sofa, he saw a head of bushy, brown hair and a pair of feet with electric blue toenails bopping along to the Weird Sisters.
Hearing him walk in the room, Hermione ripped herself from her book.
“Hi, Harry. Where’s Ron?”
“In the kitchen,” Harry said with a grin.
She rolled her eyes and went back to her book. He sat down on a comfortable chair and watched the clouds through the grimy window. Suddenly, Ginny, who had been lying on her back on the sofa, came out of her daydream, gasped, and did a backwards roll of sorts, landing on her knees.
“I can’t believe I forgot…” was all Harry heard before she disappeared. Harry and Hermione shared a look. What was that all about?
“What are you reading?” he asked.
She ginned and held her book up so he could see the cover. “Treasure Island.”
He chuckled just as Ginny re-entered the room, three envelopes in her hand and Ron in tow.
“Sorry, I totally forgot about these. I meant to give them to you after I picked them up from The Burrow,” she said with an apologetic grimace as she handed the envelopes to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
He just stared at it. His name was written in neat, green ink. There was a lump in the envelope. It was his Hogwarts letter.
Harry had made the decision at the end of last year not to go back to school. This war needed to end as quickly as possible. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised how that decision may have been unwise. What chance did he have against Voldemort, really? Voldemort was now probably the most powerful man (if you could call him a man) in the world. What chance did a seventeen-year-old who hadn’t even finished his NEWTs have? But then, the voice in his head that usually got him into trouble piped up, saying that at Hogwarts he would have no freedom to go where he wanted; to go find the Horcruxes and eventually, Tom Riddle himself.
Still undecided, Harry broke the wax seal with the Hogwarts crest and pulled out his letter.
The first sheet was the usual, saying he would be going into his seventh and final year, and that he would be sitting his NEWT exams at the end of the year. The thing that differed the most from the previous letters he had received was that instead of being signed by Professor McGonagall, it was signed by Professor F. Flitwick, the new deputy Headmaster.
The second sheet was his book list. He would need:
Charms: What you need to know by Amanda Brookwood
The 100 most dangerous plants of the wizarding world by Prudence King
Standard Book of spells Grade 7 by Miranda Goshawk
Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, Part 2 by Emeric Switch
Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage
Harry turned his envelope upside down, and a small gold and crimson badge fell out, a resolute “C” on the front. He was captain, again. Looking up at his friends, they were both staring down at their palms with wide eyes.
“What is it?” he asked. He looked over at Ginny, who was staring at her brother as if she had never seen him before. Then a wide and slightly malicious grin slowly spread on her face.
“Oh, Fred and George are going to have a field day!” she laughed.
Ron gave her a dirty look, before turning to Harry and holding up a badge very like Harry’s except it held the letters “HB.”
Wait, HB? Head boy? A grin started materialising on Harry’s face, before slipping away again. He saw Hermione look up and watch him carefully.
Harry stood and walked over to the window. Looking down onto the street below, Harry watched a scrawny cat prowl across the road and start scratching the door of number ten with its claws.
He was sure Hermione was now holding a badge with a letters “HG.” He knew how hard it would be for her to let it go, but on the other hand, he knew she would, because she wanted to help him. But, in all honesty, he didn’t want her or Ron to give up their badges. They had worked hard for them, and deserved them.
The cat he had been watching seemed to give up on getting into that house and prowled away to the other end of the street and out of Harry’s view. Running his hand through his hair, knowing he had just made it stick up even more than usual, he made his decision and turned around.
The first thing he noticed was Ginny giving him a weird look; Ron was still staring at his badge in disbelief. Hermione had a resolute look in her eyes, though they were shining slightly brighter than usual.
“We should go back to school,” he said, and smiled when Ron’s head snapped up and both Hermione’s and Ginny’s eyes widened for completely different reasons.
Hermione seemed to be trying to find words, but she settled for springing up and crushing him in a hug instead.
“What do you mean ‘we should go back to school’?” Ginny said with fire in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t you go back to school? You’re not qualified yet!”
Harry sighed and looked over at Ginny. “It doesn’t matter; the point is we are going back.” Ginny didn’t seem too happy about being kept in the dark, but seemed to realise that she would not be told anyway.
They all started at the sound of the doorbell, followed by the screeching and cursing of Mrs Black.
“BLOOD TRAITERS, FILTH, MUDBLOODS, BEGONE FROM THIS PLACE! THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK…”
The teens jumped up and ran down the stairs to find Kingsley Shackleboltand Molly attempting to get the curtains around the portrait closed.
“HOW DARE YOU COME TO THIS HOME OF MY HUSBAND!? GET YOUR DIRT-VEINED BODIES OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
Ron and Harry darted forward to help with the curtains, and with a wrench, they closed and the screaming voice echoed to silence.
“I am so sorry, Molly, I always forget about not ringing the doorbell,” apologised in his deep, soothing voice.
Molly, who was flushed and breathing heavily, smiled. “Don’t fret, Kingsley.” With a sharp look at Hermione, Harry, and her two children, she added, “Dinner’s nearly ready, please go set the table.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and skipped into the kitchen, while saying over her shoulder, “If you want us to just go away so you can discuss the Order, you can just say so.”
After setting the table, they sat down and waited for the rest of the household to come down for dinner.
“What’s that in your hand, Harry?” asked Ginny.
He looked down and opened his palm. He had momentarily forgotten about his own badge. He grinned. “Quidditch captain badge.”
“Harry, that’s great!” She leaned over and hugged him.
But Harry was still looking at the badge as it shined in the firelight. Would he have time to be captain again? He had sworn to himself he would finish this quickly; Quidditch would just come as another distraction.
“You might have a lot of,” Hermione paused and glanced at Ginny, who scowled, “things to do, but you still need to live. You love Quidditch, give yourself a break.”
Harry closed his fist and smiled. “Okay.”
*
The next day, Harry was walking down the first floor landing, and as he passed Asher’s room, he looked in the open doorway. Covering most of the floorboards was sheet upon sheet of parchment and paper, and the owner of the room herself was amongst it all, sitting crossed-legged and looking lost and forlorn.
She set pleading eyes upon Harry as she spotted him. “Help me?”
Harry raised his eyebrows and stepped in the doorway. “What are you doing?” he asked with a laugh.
“Cleaning,” she replied, picking up a sheet of parchment and looking back up at him. Harry’s eyebrows rose further. “All this stuff is from my bag; it used to be shrunk enough to fit in a side pocket, and I thought it was about time to sort it out.”
Harry crouched down and picked up a sheet of pale blue paper. It was a letter dated thirteen years ago. “How long have you had this stuff in there?” he asked, showing her the letter.
She took it from him and laughed. “That’s not the worst of it. I have things from Hogwarts in here.” She glanced around again. “Hence there is so much.”
He sat down next to her and asked what she wanted him to do.
“Thank you! Well, I have all sorts in here; letters, songs, music, phone numbers, et cetera, et cetera. So I just need them in separate piles.”
“You write your own songs?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve been doing them since found my first guitar in the attic when I was about eight or nine. I taught myself how to play, and then I started writing my own songs.”
As they worked, Asher and Harry chatted about this and that. He had never realised how easy she was to talk to. Granted, when he had first met her she was rather pre-occupied, and he had left The Burrow the next day, so he hadn’t really had the chance to get to know her.
He picked up a scrap of very old parchment. There was a song written on it. He was about to put it straight on the pile, but something made him read it.
Catch your breath, hit the wall,
Scream out loud, as you start to crawl.
Back in your cage; the only place
Where they will, leave you alone…
“So, aren’t you going back on your…whatever you were doing?”
Harry looked up from the song and sighed. “Yes, when we have another lead. At the moment, I’m out of ideas. Hermione and Ron are probably in the library at the moment doing some research. That was what I was doing before I walked past.”
“You were? Oh, sorry, Harry.”
He chucked. “It’s okay, I needed a break anyway.”
A few minutes passed, and the only sound was the rustle of paper and parchment and the distant murmur of conversation from downstairs.
Asher suddenly looked up from what she was looking at. “Ron is researching, willingly? To be honest, he didn’t seem that kind of boy, but you should never judge from first appearances…”
Harry laughed. “Occupational hazard when you’re Hermione’s friend or boyfriend.”
He picked up another letter, but something made him read on further.
My dear, dear Ash,
How are you? Is your mother dearest being nice as ever? I’m sure she is. Anyway, things here are great. The Potters are a definite improvement on my excuse of a family. Wait, I didn’t tell you, did I? Did I? Well, after another argument with my father, I have walked out…with all my things…and an oath I am never coming back… So I am staying (as previously stated) at Prongs’ house…
He skipped to the end of the letter.
Yours,
Sirius “Padfoot” Black
Harry chuckled and showed it to Asher. She read it through, a grin growing on her lips.
“Arrogant berk,” she said with a laugh and placed it on the ever-growing letter pile. “That was sent the summer before seventh year. Ran away from home and didn’t even tell me until then, two weeks later.”
“So, why are you doing all this anyway?”
She paused before answering. “I have a new job.” She smiled. “So I am getting ready to pack.”
“You’re leaving?” Harry asked.
“Not for a while; you still have to endure another week and-a-half with me. In fact, I think I’m on duty for guarding the Hogwarts Express, so I’ll be with you until then. Once the train gets to Hogsmeade, I start my job pretty soon after.”
“So what does this new job consist of?”
“I’m afraid it’s a secret, I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
She laughed. “Because I can’t, though I suspect you’ll find out eventually. Earlier than you’re meant to, maybe, if you’re anything like your father.”
“Well, does it involve singing?” Harry guessed.
“Harry, everything I do involves singing.”
“So, you’re not performing anymore?”
Asher sighed. “I got a rather rude but, I have to admit, perfectly legitimate wake up call off Charlie.” She scowled, apparently at the thought of it.
“What, Charlie Weasley?” Harry frowned; Charlie had always come across so friendly to Harry
“That’s the one.”
“What happened?”
“Basically, he said I should grow up, and he has a point, I act like a teenager, I admit it. But it still didn’t give him the bloody right to “” She stopped and must have realised she was rambling.
“What did he say?” Harry was curious now. What could Charlie have said that got her so annoyed with him?
“It doesn’t matter now. I just…don’t like him all that much. And I don’t think he is my number one fan.”
Harry nodded, and realised that there were not many pieces of paper left on the floor. He spotted a bar mat underneath a piece of paper.
He picked it up and saw writing on it.
I’m a Lancashire lass, bonny and bright,
Sweet, polite, and pretty,
I go down the music hall every night”
And it cut off there. Harry laughed and read aloud from it. Asher’s eyes widened and snatched it off him, before cracking up in giggles.
“So, why doesn’t it end properly, Asher?” Harry asked innocently.
She looked at him and tried to calm herself. “Probably too pissed to think of any more.” She looked down at the words, her brow furrowed. “Well, if I ever get back on the train of thought I was on then, I’ll get back to you.”
DISCLAIMER: I do not own either of the songs I used in this chapter. "Do the Hippogriff" is from the GOF soundtrack, and "Simon" (which Asher uses as one of her songs in this story) is by Lifehouse. Again, I do not own Treasure Island either.
So Long and Good Luck by lisa_lovegood
Author's Notes:
Thanks to my beta's, stacey and all those who have read and reviewed! Please, if you have a spare moment, go check out the spin off to this story - "How Long?"
Chapter 10- So long and Good Luck
Harry could hear muffled shouting coming from the direction of the kitchen. As he came down the stairs, the voices got clearer. He still could not hear the words being said “ or shouted “ but he was sure he recognised one of the disembodied voices as Asher.
Harry mentally rolled his eyes. He could guess who she was arguing with, though this seemed to be their loudest disagreement yet. Over the last week, Harry had noticed that Asher, who had seemed so easy going, did not get on with Charlie Weasley at all. But then again, he didn’t seem to like her all that much either.
They, in an odd sort of way, reminded him of Ron and Hermione in an argument. The only difference was they weren’t friends in the first place. If Charlie did something that annoyed the dark-haired woman, she didn’t hesitate to tell him. And when Asher said something to the second oldest Weasley brother, he didn’t hesitate to reply with a smart comment of his own.
Harry didn’t understand it, but he was not going to be the one to stop them. They usually stopped arguing if someone said something, but resorted to ignoring each other for the next hour or so.
He shook his head and opened the kitchen door.
Asher was standing about a foot away from Charlie, hands clenched at her sides. She had to look almost straight up; he was about a foot taller than her. Harry was sure Charlie’s wide shoulders and muscular frame should have seemed intimidating compared to Asher’s small frame, but next to her murderous face and clenched fists, they seemed well matched.
““the hell up!” she screeched, her eyes blazing and cheeks flushing bright pink.
“No, I don’t think I will. What is your problem? What did I do for you to bloody hate me so much?” he shouted, gesturing wildly.
“My problem? Oh, that’s rich, coming from the man who “”
“HEY!” shouted Harry. They both turned to look at him with fire in their eyes. For a fleeting moment, he was sure they were going to turn on him. But they were interrupted by a soft chuckle from the doorway, and when the three of them turned to look, Molly Weasley stood there, smiling at what she presumed was some sort of inside joke.
That was another thing that confused Harry. Molly seemed to find Asher and Charlie’s arguing quite amusing. He rolled his eyes and walked across the kitchen to make some breakfast.
Molly, still smiling, grabbed her washing basket. Charlie mumbled something indistinct and stomped out of the room, while Asher cleared up a broken mug from the floor.
Twenty minutes later, Harry was sitting at the table talking to Asher (who was back to her normal, happy self) when Tonks walked into the room.
“Wotcher, Harry, Asher!” she said with a smile. “Sorry I couldn’t talk last night, Harry, I was on night duty; it takes its toll.”
Harry had asked her if he could have a word in private to ask her about any information on Death Eaters, past and present.
“It’s okay. Could we go into the drawing room?” he said, standing up.
She gave him a curious look, and shared a glance with Asher. Most people in the Order had learned it was a waste of time questioning Harry, Ron, and Hermione about their ‘adventures’; the teens never gave anything away, except that they had to do whatever they were doing before anything else.
Once seated in the drawing room, Harry started to explain what they needed. “We need information about all the Death Eaters. When I say all, I mean from the first war as well.”
Tonks stared at him for a second, then sighed and ran her hand through her pink spikes. “I“” She paused. “That information…it’s, well, not everyone can get to it. It’s classified.” She stared at him for a second. “It’s really important, what you’re doing.”
It was a statement, not a question, but Harry answered her anyway. “Yes. Nothing is more important.”
She stood and walked over to the window. Watching her so agitated, Harry realised that she must have been expecting something like this. But what he didn’t understand was why she was so worried. Surely, being an Auror, Tonks had access to these sorts of things?
“Look, Harry, this is the wrap. When Scrimgeour came into office, he made security tighter; a lot tighter. Information is one of the most sought after things. Up to date information like the names and whereabouts of Death Eaters could be vital to Voldemort. Well, that’s what the Minister thinks, anyway, and unfortunately, when you have that much power under your belt, what you say goes.
“He made it harder for even Aurors to research certain things, past Death Eaters being one of them. I will try, Harry, I promise you that. I just have to be careful. I’ll talk to Kingsley; he’s higher ranking than me so it might be easier for him. Of course, if I get a job that requires some research, I could get what you want, easy as anything.”
Harry nodded. “Thanks,” he said. “Just…if you don’t get a job and Kingsley can’t get the lists either, don’t do anything “”
“Rash? Yes, I know and I won’t. That’s your job,” she grinned.
Harry pretended to be insulted and threw a pillow at her. She laughed and threw one back. When Harry was about to return fire, he heard something at the doorway. Apparently Tonks heard it too, and when she saw Remus there, smiling, she put on an innocent face and pointed a finger at Harry.
“Big bad Harry’s being mean to me!” she exclaimed. Harry shook his head inwardly at how she could change from serious Auror-Tonks to the Tonks that falls over umbrella stands in so little time.
“Big bad Harry?” Remus made a teasing, mock sympathetic noise, “Don’t let him get to you, Nymphy.”
Harry burst out laughing at the look of shock and disgust on Tonks’ face. “Nymphy?” she said, as if it pained her to say it. “That’s almost as bad as full-blown Nymphadora!”
“Well, Nymphy,” Remus said mildly, “You do insist on calling me Remey…”
“Yes- but- I-” She seemed unable to get the words out and glared at Harry, who was still laughing. “That’s not as bad as Nymphy! You make me sound like a…a fairy! And you should know I don’t go strutting around like “” She stopped as Remus burst out laughing as well. “Oh touché, Mr Lupin, touché.”
*
The morning of the first of September dawned bleak and cloudy, making the whole world seem grey and depressed. Only the birds chirruping outside a first floor bedroom window showed signs of the summer that had passed all too quickly for Harry’s liking.
There was a loud knock at his door. Harry grumbled and burrowed into his pillow just as the door slammed open.
“Have either of you seen Crookshanks?” Hermione asked loudly. “You boys need to wake up, we’ll miss the train!” She received a grunt and a snore in reply. “Get up, or I’ll get Asher to give you a wake up call.”
Hermione smirked as the boys looked suddenly wide awake.
Harry and Ron arrived in the kitchen half-an-hour later, dressed and showered, but still bleary-eyed from the early wake-up call. Molly Weasley was at the cooker, watching over the bacon and sausages as they fried, and Asher was buttering some toast. Hermione was sitting at the table petting Crookshanks behind his ginger ears, and Ginny was next to her, slumped forward with her head resting on her arms.
Seconds after the boys sat down, the twins bounced into the room. They took one look at their sister, who seemed very reluctant to part with the dream world, and a devious glint lit their eyes. Before anyone could blink, they were crouched on either side of Ginny, their heads parallel to hers.
The twins shared an identical, evil smirk.
“MORNING GINNYKINS!” they bellowed jovially down her ears. With a scream, Ginny started violently and fell off her chair, landing on her backside on the cold stone floor. She looked up to see who had disturbed her, only to find the twins smiling innocently back.
She glared and jumped up, smacking her brothers on the back of their heads. “You gits!”
“You know, wee one “” said Fred, rubbing his head where his sister had hit him.
“It is very un-lady-like to use language like that,” finished George.
“That’s enough, boys,” Molly admonished, her hands on her hips.
Ginny looked murderous, and Harry felt it was about time to step in. He took Ginny by her arms and led her back to her seat. She continued glaring at the twins, (who continued smirking despite their mother’s warning) muttering, “I’ll give you un-lady-like…”
An hour and-a-half later, there was what some may call only slightly organised pandemonium inside number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were rushing around the house trying to get some extremely last minute packing done, searching for lost items of clothing, homework, and pets.
Harry moved from room to room looking for his cauldron. He really had no idea how it managed to get anywhere but his trunk, but in this house, things seemed to just move of their own accord.
Coming out of the drawing room, Harry was nearly knocked off his feet by Asher, who had been rushing by in the direction of the kitchen.
“Oh, sorry, Harry “ didn’t see you there. Have you seen my travelling cloak anywhere “ the black one?”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “Aren’t all your clothes black?”
She paused and looked down at her black jeans and shirt. “You make a good point,” she grinned. “Well… it’s black and has red silk lining.”
“Uh…sorry, no. Have you seen a cauldron?”
“Cauldron? I think there was one in the library…no idea what it’s doing there, though.”
“Thanks, Asher,” he said, and ran up the stairs. It wasn’t until he was back in his room (with cauldron in hand) that he realised something. Why was Asher looking for possessions as well?
“Harry!” exclaimed Ginny as she stomped through his doorway. “Have you seen Arnold?” she asked, referring to the purple pygmy-puff she got last year.
“No, has he taken a bid for freedom?”
“Yes he has, the little monster…” she mumbled and left him alone again. The currently empty portrait in the corner Harry knew to contain Phineas Nigellus snickered.
Harry ignored the canvas and reached to get Hedwig’s cage off the top of his wardrobe. Once it was down, Hedwig herself flew gracefully and silently down to Harry shoulder.
“Hey, girl, you okay? I haven’t been giving you much attention these past weeks, have I?”
She hooted and nipped at his ear affectionately.
“So you forgive me then?” he smiled and looked into the amber orbs that were her eyes. She blinked and hopped on top of her cage.
He stroked her white feathers for a second, before locking her securely into the cage.
“Ready for another year at Hogwarts?”
She clipped her beak, before hooting encouragingly.
*
Everyone was gathered in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Charlie was sitting at the table, drinking from a chipped mug and talking to Remus. Hermione was attempting to get Crookshanks into his travelling basket, while Fred and George looked on with amusement. Mrs. Weasley was fussing over the teenagers, making sure they had everything packed, and Ginny was poking her fingers through the bars of (newly found) Arnold’s cage.
Harry floated his trunk into the room and walked up next to Ginny. “Hey,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. “You found him, then?”
“Yes, and only just in one piece,” she answered with a shake of the head. “I got to him about three seconds before Crookshanks. Poor little Arnold was hiding under my bed.”
Harry rolled his eyes. Ginny noticed this and smacked him on the arm “Ow!” he exclaimed, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”
“Don’t be mean,” was all she said. He just shook his head.
Molly rushed up to them. “Now, are you sure you have everything, dears “ all your robes, books, and equipment?”
“Clean underwear, Ginny?” George quipped from the other side of the room. Ginny glared at him
Ginny glanced at Harry, who was fighting a laugh and blushed. “Yes, mum, I have everything,” she said politely, and completely ignored her George’s comment.
Mrs Weasley nodded, either ignoring or not noticing her daughter’s annoyance with her brother. “You too, Harry?”
Harry smiled. “Yes Molly.”
Ron walked in the room, dragging his trunk and a caged, squawking Pigwidgeon behind him. Mrs. Weasley glanced at the clock and realised they were behind schedule once again, and the cars weren’t there yet.
Ten minutes later, Asher rushed into the room. “They’re here.”
*
Harry was sitting in the back of the first car, next to the window, with Ginny on his other side. Next to Ginny was Hermione, and Ron was next to her. Asher was sitting in the front, currently trying to make conversation with the driver, who seemed to be adamant in only giving her one-word answers.
Mrs. Weasley, Remus, Charlie, Fred, and George were in the other car. They had come to say goodbye at the platform. Even though Mr. Weasley had to work today, he had managed to get the cars for them. According to him, it was pure luck he had managed to get them, because no one wanted to take Muggle public transport; people thought it too dangerous.
Asher sighed in defeat. It seemed she had failed to get the driver to talk to her after all. She turned round to face the four passengers. “Ready for another year at Hogwarts?” she asked, unknowingly repeating Harry’s question to Hedwig earlier that morning.
“I guess so,” Ginny shrugged.
“School will be okay, but I really could wait for the NEWTs,” Ron said, and Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
“They’re really not that bad,” Asher said. She chuckled at the boys’ unbelieving faces. “Really, as long as the professors aren’t too bad and you don’t get too far behind on your homework, you’ll be fine.”
Ten minutes later, the cars stopped outside Kings Cross station in central London. Large, intimidating, grey clouds were overhead, threatening rain in the very near future.
“Wotcher, Harry!” exclaimed Tonks as she approached. She wore hair a violent shade of electric blue today, along with a black Weird Sisters t-shirt and a pair of distressed and faded jeans. Kingsley came up behind her, gold earring glittering and looking, Harry thought, rather strange in a pinstriped Muggle business suit.
“Moody’s waiting by the barrier for us,” he said in his deep, calm voice. “We should get inside as quick as we can. Do you need any help with that, Asher?”
“No, no, I’m fine. Thanks, Kingsley,” she said as her petite frame heaved her large suitcase out of the boot of the car. It landed with a slam on the pavement.
Charlie, who had been watching her struggle, rolled his eyes and grabbed the handle. Asher glared at him and took the trunk from him. “I can manage, thank you.”
He sighed and let her take it from him. “Will you just grow up?” he mumbled, loud enough for Asher and everyone in the surrounding area to hear him.
She looked at him coolly. “Will you ever come up with a better insult? You sound like a broken record.”
She turned away and led the way towards platforms nine and ten.
Ginny raised her eyebrows at Harry. “At least she didn’t yell at him.”
*
“Oh, please be careful this year, Harry dear.”
“I will, Molly,” Harry said as he struggled to breathe through her vice grip on him.
They had made it to the barrier at ten to eleven, so everyone was making rushed goodbyes and well wishes for the next year. Looking around the platform, Harry could see several Order members and Aurors scattered around watching people closely for any suspicious behaviour. With the constantly growing threat from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, the Ministry wasn’t taking any chances. The Hogwarts Express could be used as a target, and according to Tonks, the board of governors had even considered organising a different method of getting the students back to school. But they had decided against this precaution. Voldemort was trying to make as much mayhem and disorder as he could, and the governors had decided that, by keeping some sort of normality, it would help keep people calm in such an out of control world.
Molly let Harry go and turned to her daughter. Harry found himself face to face with Remus. “See you, Remus,” said Harry.
Lupin smiled and glanced around to make sure no one was listening to them. “I’ll keep looking in the Blacks’ library for any information you might need. Keep in touch, Harry; I’ll write.” He hesitated for a second, before wrapping Harry in a friendly hug.
“Bye,” Harry said. He turned to grab his case, but stopped as Remus put a hand on his shoulder.
He leaned forward with a gleam in his eye. “Make sure you have fun this year, Harry. Despite any prophecy, despite the task you have to achieve, you are still just seventeen years old. The world needs to stay positive at times like these. Keep up the Marauders name; make your dad and Sirius proud.”
Harry looked at Remus for a long second, hardly believing that his former professor had just said that. Grinning, he grabbed Hedwig and his trunk, before glancing at Lupin again.
“I will. I’ll make you proud too,” he said. He heard Remus chuckle and grinned. Just then, he turned to find himself facing three Weasley brothers, all with strange looks on their faces. For a second, Harry thought about extending his hand; they were just going to say goodbye and send him on his way.
How wrong he was.
“We may not have said anything before now,” started Fred.
“But we just want to let you know,” continued George, who, like his twin, had never looked more intimidating.
Charlie stepped forward and continued, “That if you ever “”
“Ever,” repeated Fred.
“Hurt our baby sister, you’ll have us to deal with.”
Harry just stared at them, his mouth working furiously to find the words. Suddenly, something seemed to snap and all three smiled and clapped him on the back, making him stumble slightly.
George grinned at him. “But don’t worry yourself, Harry, as long as you’re good to her,”
“And keep your hands to yourself,” added Charlie.
“You’ll be fine. You’re virtually family, but we still have to protect out baby sister, right?”
“Wrong!” growled a voice from behind the three Weasley brothers. They paled visibly and turned to face Ginny. She had her hands on her hips and a dangerous look in her eyes. She grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him away from the twins and Charlie.
“How old do they think I am?” she muttered to herself.
Maybe he was pale, or had a worried look on his face, because she took one look at him and giggled. “Don’t worry about it, Harry; you’re like family to them. Plus, they’ll have me to deal with if they ever do anything.”
Harry grinned and kissed her straight on the lips. When he pulled away, she looked at him with an impish grin. “What was that for?” she asked, taking his hand and pulling him back over to her family.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, for just being you. Would you rather I stopped?”
“Hah! I’d like to see you try,” she said jokingly, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Come on, Harry, Ginny! We need to get your trunks on here!” Harry turned to see Asher standing in a doorway of the scarlet steam train. “Ron and Hermione have already got a compartment. They’re sharing with another girl, Luna was her name, I think.”
Ginny smiled as she pulled her trunk onto the train. “Yep, Luna. Which compartment?”
“It’s the third to the right,” said Asher, motioning with her arm. Ginny walked past Asher and started down the corridor. Harry was about to follow her when he remembered something from that morning.
“Are you starting your new job today?” he asked, and Asher smiled.
“Yes, I am. But first, I’m on guard here and for the rest of the journey to Hogwarts. No goodbyes yet,” she paused, and her eyes glazed slightly as if she were lost in memory. She shook her head slightly to clear it. “I don’t like goodbyes, even now,” she said with a slightly embarrassed grin.
She stepped off the train and back onto the platform. Harry watched her start talking to Mr. Weasley. Asher was such a complex character at times. If you met her only once, she could come across as immature for her age. It was sometimes very hard to remember that she was the same age as Remus, and that she had been through war, loss, and hardships. But she had been, and occasionally you could see the ghosts of her past haunt her eyes, like just now.
“Oi, Earth to Harry!”
Harry jumped, startled. He had been in his own world, staring into space for what could have been any amount of time.
“Huh?” He looked down at Ginny, whose eyebrows were raised in amusement. “Oh. Yeah. I’m going.”
As he walked over to the compartment, he wondered if this school year would end on a better note than the last.
*
Harry stared out the window, watching the English countryside whiz by and the rain pour. A strange half-light made it not dark enough for the lamps to turn on, but left everything looking dim and shadowy. He felt his eyelids start to droop, the hypnotic patter of the rain against the glass lulling him into that place between the worlds of sleep and awareness.
He was sitting in a compartment with Ginny, Neville, and Luna. After the train left the platform, Ron and Hermione had left for the prefects meeting and had yet to return. Ginny was already asleep on his shoulder. After weeks of sleeping in (as long as her mother let her), early mornings really didn’t agree with her.
Luna’s face was hidden behind the latest copy of The Quibbler, which bore the headline:
The Wicked Witch of the West:
Britain’s ugliest witch or Secret Beauty?
When they had first taken their seats, Luna had glanced at Harry and Ginny’s joined hands and said, “I told you. He can’t keep his hands off you.” Then she went back to her magazine. Harry just stared at her with a gaping mouth and flushed cheeks as Ginny and Neville roared with laughter.
Neville was currently reading a book about rare herbs and fungi which his gran had given him for his birthday. Apparently, Professor Sprout had sent an owl to Mrs. Longbottom, showering her praise on Neville’s interest in Herbology. Sprout had written all about Neville’s breeding of the Mimbulus mimbletonia last year, and how his grades in Herbology were constantly so high. Neville said his gran had been so proud, especially after he had helped defend his school last June.
Ginny shifted in her sleep, and Harry glanced down at her sleeping face. Her face was so close he could count ever freckle on the bridge of her nose. She must have felt his gaze, because her eyes slowly flickered open and she looked up at him groggily.
“What are you looking at?” she yawned, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head.
“Something pretty,” Harry said with a grin.
She chuckled. “Aren’t you a charmer?”
He smirked and was about to make a comment when the compartment door slid open to reveal a rather annoyed looking Hermione, and a Ron whose ears were turning red.
“Really, Ron, you could have said something. You’re Head Boy; you have responsibilities,” she admonished as she sat down on a bench. “Hi Neville, Luna, how were your summers?”
Neville opened his mouth, but was overridden by Ron, who had sat down beside Hermione despite the fact that they were having an argument. “I know I have responsibilities, Hermione, but you were doing just fine without my input. If I had interrupted, you would have been just as annoyed as you are now!”
“No I would not.” Hermione folded her arms across her chest and huffed.
“You only fight because you like each other.” Amused, Harry looked over at Luna, who was carefully folding her magazine, and then went on to stare from Hermione to Ron. “Have you two not told each other yet?”
Ginny was convulsing with silent giggles. She got hold of herself in just enough time to say, “Yes, they have, though sometimes you wouldn’t guess it by the amount of affection my brother dearest can give.”
Harry ginned. “Oh, no, they certainly can show affection. I seem to remember a certain incident, inside a certain tent, on a certain bed“”
“Hey!” Ron exclaimed, his ears burning.
Ginny looked highly interested. “Oh really? And why wasn’t I informed of this, ahem, display of affection?”
Hermione, by this time, had gone beet red. “Ginny!”
Ginny burst into hysterical laughter from the look on the couples face. Harry looked across the compartment at Neville.
“Awkward moment?” Neville said with a laugh.
“At the time, not so much for them, as they didn’t even notice I was there.”
Hermione let out another annoyed huff, this time at Harry rather than Ron. “Oh shut up.”
As Ginny wiped tears of mirth from her eyes, Luna looked at her with a completely serious look on her face. “You should watch out, Ginny, I think there’s a Sniggler around here.” Luna started looking carefully around the compartment, as if trying to catch a glimpse of some strange creature flying around the lamp shades.
The compartment door suddenly slid open again, and everyone turned to look at the doorway. Standing there, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, with the air of someone who feels they’re much more important than anyone else, his already narrow, slanted eyes narrowing in dislike, Blaise Zabini looked down on them with a sneer.
“Look what we have here.”
“Oh, how pathetic; it seems the Ferret has been replaced already,” shot Ginny, with contemptuous eyes.
“Malfoy was an idiot to get himself caught up in that Death Eater crap,” said Zabini, his eyes looking her up and down. Harry slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer protectively. “I just came here to tell you something,” Zabini went on.
“We’re not bothered about anything that comes out of your mouth, Zabini, so you can bugger off back to your Slytherin friends,” said Ron, glaring viciously, obviously not amused by the way he was looking at Ginny.
“Shut it, Weasley.” Blaise’s eyes stopped when they reached Harry. “I was just going to say, I’d watch it Potter. You pick sides, you pick enemies. By going against You-Know-Who, you’ve made some serious enemies. You shouldn’t have taken sides.”
Harry didn’t say anything for a long moment, mulling over what Blaise had just said. He looked straight into Blaise Zabini’s eyes, only one thing about his little speech aggravating him.
“It’s Lord Voldemort.”
Zabini visibly flinched, despite trying to hide it. “You’re a fool to speak his name.”
Harry had suddenly had enough; he stood. “And you’re a fool to think you can stay out of this war by not taking sides,” he scorned.
Blaise surveyed him with distasteful eyes for a long minute. “At least I’ll get out of it alive.” And then he was gone, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering after him.
Harry stared after them for a second, still standing in the middle of the compartment, feeling like he had just been punched in the stomach. At least I’ll get out of it alive. He mentally shook himself and sat back down.
Ginny looked furious, her cheeks turning an ominous shade of red, ready to run straight after the Slytherin. “I swear to Merlin, I should have bat-bogeyed that“”
“Ginny,” Harry said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “It’s fine.”
“It’s bloody not, the stupid“”
“Ginny, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He thinks if he tries to keep his own skin out of it, he won’t be affected. I guess that in some way he is right, but there is no way in the world I could be such a coward to not go and fight.”
She smiled up at him. “And that’s exactly why you’re in Gryffindor, not Slytherin.”
The rest of the train journey was uneventful. As they pulled into Hogsmede Station, the rain was still pouring. Harry pulled down his and Ginny’s trunks from the rack, and as they were stepping through the doorway, they heard a muffled yelp, followed by a loud thump coming from the hallway.
“Hey, watch it!” exclaimed Lavender Brown, stepping back from someone sitting on the floor. Lavender had apparently made the yelp and thumping noises. She stepped round the person on the floor, and a girl with dark brown hair and clear olive skin, wearing Slytherin robes came into Harry’s view. She looked around their age, and was wearing a great deal of dark makeup around her brown eyes. She had a nasty scowl on her face as she tried to pick up all the things that had spilled from her open trunk
She was blocking the corridor, so Hermione stepped forward, and Ron rolled his eyes at her. The girl glanced up as the Head Girl, a Gryffindor no less, started helping her collect her books and robes up.
When they were done and the girl’s trunk was shut, the Slytherin stood, and she seemed to notice Harry for the first time. She looked between Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, and after several moments, seemed to make her mind up about something. She squared her shoulders, but as she opened her mouth to talk, another voice called from the end of the carriage.
“Oi, Toni! Get a move on or we’ll go without you!”
The girl, who was apparently called Toni, turned at the sound of the voice, and with one last glance at the four Gryffindors, turned and left the train.
When she was gone, Ron started leading them off the train, saying, “What was that all about?” Harry wrapped his cloak tighter around him. It was still raining and achingly cold; he was soaked to the skin and shivering in a matter of seconds
“I don’t know. It looked like she had something to say,” said Hermione, raising her voice over the rushing weather.
“Probably something to do with what happened last year,” said Ginny in an annoyed tone.
“Who is she anyway? Tony did they say her name was?” asked Harry, as they reached the final carriage, which stood alone, its single Thestral staring at them with blank white eyes
Ginny looked over at him as they entered the carriage, dragging their trunks behind them. “Toni Moretti. She’s in my year but a Slytherin. I don’t think she’s as bad as some of them, but she has to be in Slytherin for a reason.”
“Well, if what she wanted to say was so important, she should have just said it,” said Ron, as the carriage started moving.
Harry watched as the twinkling lights of Hogwarts got forever closer. The tallest tower, the astronomy tower, loomed above them to the east as they passed through the huge gates.
A blanket of respectful silence fell over the four teenagers as they all remembered what had happened that fateful night last year.
Harry started over at the base of the huge tower. In his mind’s eye he could still see Dumbledore laying there, broken. But Harry knew that right now, he was off on that next great adventure.
He will never be gone as long as those here remain loyal to him.
Harry stared over in the opposite direction, over to the black lake. He could just make out a white tomb, painted black by the night. He felt Ginny squeeze his hand as one single fact pierced his brain.
Harry was returning to Hogwarts.
A Hogwarts without Albus Dumbledore.
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my readers, especially those who are kind enough to review! Also, I have submitted a spin-off to this story - "How Long?". It is a one-shot, and ready for some reading + reviewing Love! If you have a spare moment, please, go check it out!
Back to Bedlam by lisa_lovegood
Author's Notes:
Author's Notes: OK. Lot's of things to say about this chapter, despite it's shortness. Firstly, SO MANY thanks to Danae for her Beta-ing this chapter, and her fantastic help with my *attempts* at a half decent sorting hat song. I'll apologise now for my futile attempts at poetry. Also, this chapter's title is stolen from James Blunt. It's the name of his (very good) album. It is not mine!
Dedicatory: To Stacey, who first got me into fanfiction, and talked me into submitting this story in the first place. To kate, for being an amazing reader, and for reviewing every chapter as soon as it's updated. I love hearing from you! You two may see a few farmiliar names in this next chapter! ;)
Chapter 11- Back to Bedlam
The Great Hall looked as spectacular as it had the first time he had seen it, though he felt not quite as much wonderment at the enchanted ceiling, nor as much amazement at the sheer size of the immense room. The candles still floated in mid-air, along with the house ghosts. Students still chattered with their neighbours at the four huge tables, though Harry couldn’t help but notice that they were not as full as they had been in years past. There was a certain sparkle, the sparkle that had made Hogwarts Harry’s first true home, missing this year.
As Harry walked slowly down between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, he looked up at the teacher’s table at the very front of the room. There, looking rather small in the huge Head chair, Professor McGonagall sat with her head held high, watching the last stragglers take their seats.
Harry and Ginny sat at the very top of the table with Ron and Hermione, who, as Head Boy and Girl, were obliged to sit there to greet the new first-years. Hermione suddenly let out an audible gasp, causing several people from further down the table to look up her.
She was staring up at the Head table. “Is that…Asher?” Harry looked up, and sure enough, sitting to the left of McGonagall and talking to Professor Sinistra, was Asher. As if sensing their gaze, she looked around at the Gryffindor table. On seeing their shocked faces, she grinned and winked before going back to her conversation.
“Well, that was unexpected,” said Harry, staring at the side of Asher’s head.
“That was…yeah, that was unexpected.” said Ginny, half laughing.
Ron looked shocked. “Why didn’t she tell us!” he exclaimed.
Harry laughed. “Why didn’t anyone tell us? I’m sure everyone except us knew.”
Hermione seemed to be mentally scolding herself. “Of course! Didn’t she say something about how she couldn’t tell us about her new job, and about how we would find out eventually.”
Harry looked further along the table and saw Professor Slughorn sitting there, dressed in bottle green silk robes. Harry was surprised Slughorn had come back this year, but maybe the Potions master thought he owed it to Dumbledore. Next to him sat Hagrid, looking slightly more subdued than usual. He caught Harry’s eye and lifted one of his dustbin-lid- sized hands in greeting with a genuine grin.
“I wonder if she’s a good teacher,” wondered Ginny out loud.
Ron shrugged. “Course she’ll be. Anything’s good compared to-”
Ron was interrupted when the huge oak doors opened wide and tiny Professor Flitwick led around thirty terrified first-years into the room.
As they passed, Harry caught the eye of a tiny little girl with straight, shoulder length brown hair and dark eyes, and smiled encouragingly. On seeing his face and scar, her mouth fell open and her eyes bulged. Harry heard Ron snort behind him.
Professor Flitwick told the first-years to line up facing the front and placed the old, tattered sorting hat on its stool before standing atop his own.
Everyone waited expectantly, and a few moments later the rip at the brim opened wide and the sorting hat started to sing.
“A thousand years or more ago, when I was new and clean,
Hogwarts School opened its gates, but for whom was not foreseen.
For the brave, the sly, the fair, or the true, a conundrum it became
To me they came and asked for help, and still it so remains.
Every year from then on in, I’ve done the job I’m about
Place me upon your head and I will sort you out.
It pains me so to do this now, to quarter you young students,
Fear and pain is at this school; you must all have prudence.
Many a time have I warned you, and again if I must,
Stand together, unite, be strong; friendships are built on trust.
Still I fear if what I do will do more wrong than right
But you must stick together and learn to live and fight.
An external war is going; we cannot let it in,
The danger is at the very core, yet this school must still begin.
Help can be found in places one may not usually look,
But open your eyes and open your mind and you will find the hook.
Go by what I say now and evil shall not win,
Take my words to mind and heart and let the sorting now begin.”
The students stared at it for a moment. The teachers shared a glance. A smattering of applause came from the professors, followed by the rest of the students.
“So, Hermione, what was this year’s Sorting Hat Song all about?” asked Ron, though he didn’t seem too interested.
“’Stand together, unite, be strong; friendships are built on trust… Help can be found in places one may not usually look...’ It sounds like its trying to say, have an open mind “ House unity. Maybe something like don’t judge a book by its cover.”
Ron rolled his eyes. “If that stupid hat thinks I’m going to go round having tea parties with Blaise Zabini“”
“HUFFLEPUFF!”
It was apparent the sorting had begun, and a small blonde boy was hurriedly making his way towards the Hufflepuff table.
“Bosson, Stacey,” professor Flitwick’s squeaky voice called out.
A small girl, one of the smallest there, with bright blonde hair made her way hesitantly forward. She was taking deep breaths and wringing her hands. Harry grinned; she reminded him of Hermione.
When she put on the hat, it fell right over her eyes. She was there for several minutes, and students started sharing glances.
Suddenly, the hat seemed to come to life and bellowed, “GRYFFINDOR!”
She hurriedly removed the hat and almost sprinted towards Gryffindor’s table.
Hermione held out her hand and smiled in greeting, introducing herself and Ron.
“Is that it?” Stacey asked Hermione quietly. “That hat just talks to you and…does it read your mind?”
Hermione smiled. “That’s it. I guess it does read you mind in a way. It knows what your characteristics are, what you have the potential to become.”
Harry turned his attention back towards the sorting. A girl called Kate Franklin, the girl who had gawked at him when she walked past, had just placed the old hat on her head. Merely seconds later, the hat raised its voice.
“RAVENCLAW!”
Several other trembling eleven years old followed Kate (sorted into Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively).
The line of students was slowly dwindling.
“Come on, I’m starving,” moaned Ron, and Harry grinned. Some things never change.
Finally, James Western was sorted into Ravenclaw, and Professor Flitwick stepped off his stool and rolled up his parchment. Once he was seated to the right of Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress herself stood to address the students.
Seeing his Transfiguration teacher standing in the centre of the table, wearing dark crimson robes, her dark hair tied back as usual in its tight bun, a pang of sadness echoed through Harry’s heart.
“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I’d like to welcome the first-years to this school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and to those who have returned to us, welcome back. I will not delay our feast any longer.” She glanced over at the Gryffindor table with the hint of a smile. “Please, begin.”
Gasps of first-years echoed around the Hall as every food imaginable suddenly appeared in front of them, making the tables groan from the strain.
Stacey, the blonde first-year, stared at all the food in astonishment. She looked over at Hermione with wide eyes. “Is… Is it real?” she asked in a whisper only just heard over the roar of the crowd.
Harry glanced, amused, over at Ron, who was currently stuffing his face with every piece of food he could reach.
Hermione also glanced at Ron with a repulsed look on her face. “Yes. It most certainly is.”
There were a total of eight new first-year Gryffindors; four girls and four boys. There was Stacey Bosson, who was Muggle-born. After she got over her initial shock from the seemingly non-existent ceiling, talking hat, and food that appeared out of nowhere, she explained that her parents were both doctors in a hospital in Manchester. There was also a boy called Benjamin Stephenson.
“Are you Harry Potter?” he had asked in a rush, causing Harry to look up from his dinner.
“Yes,” Harry answered mildly, fighting back an eye-roll.
“My mum said you’re gonna go after You-Know-Who.”
“Did she now?” he said, going back to his meal and stabbing a roasted potato with unwanted venom.
“Yeah, she did. Are you?”
Harry looked up and shared a glance with Ron and Hermione.
“What else has your mum read about me in newspapers and magazines?”
Benjamin furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. She used to say you were barking mad, but then she said…she said you were gonna save the world. She said ‘You were the hero we’ve been waiting for.’”
*
Once all the plates were cleared and the food had all but disappeared, McGonagall stood once again.
“Now that you have all been fed after your long journey, I have a few announcements to make. The first of these is our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Ms Asher Crellin.”
The hall filled with polite applause, particularly from the top of the Gryffindor table, as she stood and waved to the students. People started muttering amongst themselves, though Harry distinctly heard Lavender Brown say, “At least this female Defence professor knows how to dress…”
“As I am taking the role of Headmistress this year,” continued McGonagall as the noise died down, “I am unable to keep my post as Head of Gryffindor house; therefore, Professor Crellin,” Harry saw Asher laugh to herself and grinned, “Will be talking my place.”
This was followed by another loud cheer, especially from the whole Gryffindor table.
“Also, please note that the Forbidden Forest is named as such for a reason. There have also been several new rules put in place for your own safety. Walking around the castle after hours will not be tolerated. Do not leave the main castle building after nightfall. Hogsmede visits will continue, but on stricter terms. You will get to and from the village via the carriages, and at planned times. There will be no walking out of the gates without a professor or Auror’s permission and supervision. Also, Quidditch will continue, but again, practices will not be allowed without the supervision of a professor.” McGonagall looked around the room with sharp eyes, almost daring someone to break her rules.
“On another, though associated, note: Mr Filch had asked me to inform you that the list of forbidden products has grown once again over the summer, and that the list is on his office door and the surrounding wall.”
The new Headmistress then took a deep breath to steady herself before ploughing on with her speech. “A great evil broke into these walls last year, and we lost one of the most loved and accomplished Headmasters in the history of Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore now lays at rest on the banks of the black lake, and you are free to pay your respects to him anytime, so long as it complies with our new restrictions. I am proud of each and every one of you who have decided to return to Hogwarts this year. We are in the midst of a war which could be the beginning or the end of us, but we must remember not to forget those we love. They are what keep us going in times of sorrow, so we must all be strong for each other.”
Harry felt Ginny grip his hand tighter as McGonagall finished her speech. He looked down at her and offered a tight smile.
There was a sudden deafening screech as the benches were all pushed back and McGonagall dismissed everyone to bed.
Hermione, Ron, and the prefects started gathering the first-years together to lead them to the common room. “The password’s decorum; we’ll meet you in the common room,” whispered Hermione on her way past.
Harry and Ginny hung back and waited for the bulk of the crowd to move out so they didn’t get squashed in the rush.
“Hey, kids!” Harry felt Ginny start next to him, and he turned at the sound of Asher’s voice. “Bet that was a shock, eh?” she chuckled, and nudged Harry on the arm. “Head of House to boot, though I have to admit, I only found out about that yesterday…”
“A shock?” Ginny spluttered, half exasperated, half laughing. “Talk about an understatement.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Harry asked. He grinned. “I’m sure Hermione would have had a blast revising the right subject matter.”
“Oh, come now,” said Asher, fighting a smile of her own, “It was much more fun to watch your faces tonight.”
“Alrigh’, Harry!” Harry looked beyond Asher, up towards the Professors table, to see Hagrid’s huge form approaching. He was surprised he hadn’t spotted his biggest friend coming sooner.
“Hey, Hagrid,” waved Harry, as the half-giant came to stand beside Asher. She barely came above his waist, making her seem even shorter than she actually was.
“’Ow yer doin’?” he asked Harry quietly, a sad, sympathetic look in his black, beady eyes.
Harry knew exactly what Hagrid was taking about, but really didn’t want to even think about Dumbledore. So, instead, Harry replied simply, “I’m fine, Hagrid. How are you?”
“’oldin up, as always. Ginny! Good ter see yer! I ’eard ‘bout the Burrow. ‘Ow yer doin’?”
“I’m fine, thanks. There wasn’t much damage and no one was hurt, so I’ll live.”
Ginny smiled brightly up at the half-giant, though she gripped Harry’s hand a little tighter. Whether it was a conscious decision or not, it showed Harry she was a lot more bothered about her home being attacked than she let on.
The Burrow being targeted had shaken her more than she would admit, but Ginny was still one of the strongest people he knew. Through the assault on her home and family, Ginny had been given confirmation on a silver platter that they were in this war for the long run, if Bill’s horrific injuries last year hadn’t been enough. But still, none of the Weasleys, except maybe Percy, regretted their decision to continue in the fight against Voldemort. Neither Dark Lord nor Death Eater would scare them away from the front lines of battle.
Harry felt a sudden rush of pride and affection, as well as an odd, unknown, yet distantly familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had the very strange and sudden urge to laugh and smile and kiss Ginny square on the lips, all at the same time.
At the sound of his name, Harry was drawn back to the conversation, which had continued without him.
““ have a note from Minerva for you.” Harry, quite startled by this, took the note from Asher and slid it into his pocket.
“Thanks.”
“No problem,” said Asher. “Well, I think I must be off to bed, lots of classes tomorrow, and I suggest you two,” she looked between Harry and Ginny pointedly, “do the same. Don’t want to be falling asleep over your reviews of last year’s work.” She grinned. “Nighty night.”
“Night, Asher,” said Harry.
“Goodnight, Professor Crellin!” hollered Ginny teasingly. Harry heard Asher laugh, but she didn’t turn around as she headed out of the Hall.
“Well, we’d better be off too, Hagrid, see you later,” said Harry. Before he could react, Hagrid had wrapped both he and Ginny into a bone-crushing hug. When he let go, Harry was sure at least one of his ribs had been cracked, but tried not to let it show as he smiled up at his friend, though it did turn out as more of a grimace.
“Night, Hagrid,” said Ginny, as she patted his elbow and took Harry’s hand to lead him out of the Hall.
*
“Should we wake them or let somebody find them?” asked Ginny, with a merry glint in her eyes.
Ron and Hermione were sitting on the couch in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Ron had his arm around Hermione’s shoulders, and Hermione was using Ron’s chest as a pillow as they both slept. That was how Harry and Ginny had found them after making their way back to the Fat Lady’s portrait. It seemed the Head Boy and Girl, along with the Gryffindor prefects had done a good job getting the students up to their dorms. It was just themselves who had trouble getting into the right bed.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if Lavender found them like that?” commented Harry mildly.
Ginny snorted. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Come on, we better wake them.”
“Aww, you spoil all my fun,” whined Ginny, but she nevertheless followed Harry towards the couches.
Shaking Ron’s shoulder, Harry called, “Oi, Ron. Wake up. You’re going to get a stiff neck!”
“Mmmwazapenin?” mumbled Ron, not opening his eyes.
Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. “Lazy git,” she muttered. Moving closer to Hermione, Ginny raised her voice to a slightly panicked tone. “Hermione! Your classes start in five minutes! Get dressed!”
Hermione was awake before Ginny had finished her sentence.
“What! Its morning?” exclaimed the bushy-haired girl, standing abruptly and trying to get her bearings. “But its first day of “” She caught sight of Ginny and Harry, who could barely contain their mirth, then of Ron, who was groggily opening his eyes. Hermione looked out the window, which showed that it was, in no uncertain terms, still night time.
She scowled at Ginny and sat back down on the sofa with as much dignity as she could muster. “That was not funny.”
“Come on, you know it was,” replied a smirking Ginny.
“What was?” asked Ron, only just waking up enough to be aware of his surroundings. He saw Hermione next to him, and then glanced over at his sister and Harry, who were still chuckling as they sat down on the sofa opposite, and Harry saw a crimson Weasley blush rising up his neck.
“My comedic genius,” said Ginny to her brother, grinning importantly.
“Yeah, but I think only you would really call it genius...”said Harry.
“Oi!”
Harry laughed at her scandalised look.
There was a comfortable silence as Harry stared into the fireplace. Ginny leaned her head onto his shoulder and he absently twisted a fiery lock round his finger.
“I can’t believe Asher is a teacher!”
Harry looked up at Ron. “Me neither. But I can’t believe we didn’t work it out with all the clues she was giving us.”
“I wonder what sort of things she’ll teach,” said Hermione after a pause.
Harry and Ron shared a look. Ginny had a look in her eyes that clearly said, “Here we go…”
“I mean, there are certain things we are supposed to learn for our N.E.W.T.s: duelling tactics, wandless magic, defence techniques, but seeing as how our past Defence classes have been…”
Harry slowly started losing his grip on what Hermione was saying and continued playing with Ginny’s hair. As he stared into space, Harry’s mind started wandering to other topics, namely Dumbledore. Hogwarts without Dumbledore. It was a foreign concept to him. If Death Eaters had managed to get through the school’s defences with Dumbledore there, how long would it take for them to do it again now?
Harry’s mission had begun and yet he had gotten nowhere. While at Grimmauld Place, he, Ron, and Hermione had read and checked every book they could lay their hands on, and yet had no more information on the qualities or destruction of Horcruxes than they did when they had started. It was only a matter of time before Voldemort tried to hurt someone else Harry cared about, and Harry wasn’t going to let that happen. He would do what he had to do and be done with it, so he could be free to live how he wanted, without constantly having to look over his shoulder.
As he shifted to get more comfortable, he heard the crinkle of parchment in his pocket. Remembering McGonagall’s note, Harry slipped it out of his pocket and spread out the tightly folded parchment.
Mr Potter,
Please report to my office at 7 o’clock tomorrow night. There are some things which I have not had time to discuss with you until this date.
Yours,
M. McGonagall
P.S. The first cat I owned was a Scottish Fold.
“The first cat I owned was a Scottish fold?” Harry heard himself wonder out loud. Hermione’s voice faltered.
“What was that?” Ron asked, though he didn’t seem sorry that Hermione had been effectively stopped just as she had started to get into her tirade.
“McGonagall wants to see me tomorrow night, and in the post script she put ‘the first cat I owned was a Scottish Fold.’”
“Must be the password,” said Ron loudly.
Harry glanced at the staircases to the dorms as Ginny said sarcastically, “Why don’t you say that a bit louder, Ron, I think the Giant Squid didn’t quite catch it.”
“Well,” said Hermione, standing up and stretching, “I’m going to bed. Night.” She kissed Ron goodnight. “Coming, Ginny?”
“Yeah, I’m coming,” said the redhead, snuggling closer into Harry.
A few seconds passed, and after a glance at Hermione’s raised eyebrows and Ron’s glare, she slowly stood. “Night, Harry,” she said, leaning down to kiss him goodnight. “Goodnight, brother dear,” she said, ruffling his hair as she passed on the way to the girls’ staircase.
The boys both dragged themselves up to bed several minutes later, the sounds of three snoring boys reaching their ears.
“Night, Ron,” said Harry, as he undressed and got into bed.
There was no reply as Ron fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
*
“You better wake up, Harry, you’re gonna to be late,” Harry heard Neville say.
“Mnphhh.”
Harry buried his head into his pillow as sunlight hit his closed eyelids.
With stupendous effort, Harry carefully opened his eyes and got his bearings. He looked across the room to see Seamus shrugging on his school robes, Dean packing his bag, Neville opening his trunk to look for an item of some description, and a mop of red hair on Ron’s pillow. Dragging himself out of bed, mentally cursing himself for staying up so late, Harry shuffled into the bathroom for a quick shower that would hopefully wake him up.
Twenty minutes later, the five seventh-year boys made their way down to the common room. It was deserted, so Harry and Ron presumed the girls had gone to breakfast without them.
“So when are tryouts for that chaser place, Harry?” asked Dean as they walked down the third floor staircases. Katie Bell, who had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team ever since Harry’s first year, had left at the end of last year, so there was a spare place up for grabs. Obviously, Dean wanted to try out again; he had been temporarily on the team when Katie had been cursed by Malfoy last year.
“Oh, probably in the next few weeks or so. We need to get training up if we want to keep that cup.” Harry could only laugh at the memory of his mad urge to kick Dean off the team when he had caught him and Ginny snogging in an empty corridor after a Quidditch training session. It seemed Dean had also gotten over the fact that Harry had started going out with Ginny shortly after their relationship had come to a halt.
“Um, Harry,” started Neville. “We were talking last night, and we were going to ask you about it then, but you didn’t come up until after we’d gone to bed, but…after the break-in last year…are you going to start the D.A. up again?”
Harry stared at him, shocked. Well, he thought, that was unexpected. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron look from Neville, to Dean, to Seamus, and to Harry.
“Well...err…I don’t know…”
“Have you seen the papers all summer? And after Dumbledore was killed…well, people want to know how to defend themselves and their school or homes, you know?” Seamus said, watching Harry carefully. “Me mam nearly forbid me from coming back to Hogwarts; I’ve been fighting with her all summer about it.”
“And my parents got an owl telling them about Dumbledore and the state of the Wizarding world at the moment,” continued Dean. “They went totally crazy and were ready to keep me away from the whole Wizarding world; I tell you, it was hard to talk them out of snapping my wand.”
“What we’re trying to say is,” said Neville, sounding more serious than they had seen him in quite a while, “we want to learn how to protect ourselves and the people we care about, and when Umbridge was around we learned more in that year than we did in any other…except maybe with Lupin.”
“But we do have a good teacher this year,” said Harry, wondering why Ron hadn’t said anything yet, but was staring into space as they descended the main staircase and walked across the entrance hall, a pensive look on his face. “Ash “ I mean Professor Crellin looks good.”
Seamus whistled. “You’re telling me.”
Dean rolled his eyes at his best mate. “Even if she can teach us something, having an extra defence class can’t hurt, can it?”
Harry didn’t say anything as they walked down the house tables towards Hermione and Ginny, trying to ignore the stares he always got at the start of the year. And the rest of the year, for that matter. “I’ll think about it, ok? But really, how many people would want me to teach them?”
“Probably a hell of a lot,” said Ron unexpectedly, as the five boys all sat down on the bench.
“A lot of what?” asked Hermione.
“A lot of people would want to learn defence off Harry in the D.A.” said Ron loudly.
“Ron…” warned Harry, glancing at the inquisitive looks their little group was now getting.
“What, you’re starting the D.A. again?” Ginny asked, looking up at Harry.
“No…yes…I don’t know. Those three,” he said, motioning to Dean, Neville and Seamus, “said I should because people want to learn defence, but I don’t see the point if we have a decent DADA Professor…” he trailed off and took a bite of toast.
“How do you know so much about her?” asked Seamus curiously, as he piled his plate full of scrambled eggs and bacon.
“Err…” said Harry lamely.
“Long story, don’t ask,” said Hermione.
“Yes, its an exciting and moving tale, but, as Miss Granger says, a very long one.” All five students jumped as Asher unexpectedly popped up from behind Hermione.
“OK,” she said as the teenagers laughed, “Timetables, timetables, timetables…oh the joy…” she muttered. It was only then that Harry noticed the long piece of parchment and wand in Asher’s hands.
“Hermione…” She tapped a piece of parchment with her wand several times, and then handed a full timetable to Hermione. “Wow, you’re going to be busy. Ok, Harry, Ron…you two both have the same classes so…” she tapped two more slips of parchment and handed them to Harry and Ron. As she moved around the table, Harry read through his lessons.
“Cool, free period first thing today and then Charms…not too bad…” said Harry.
“Hey! Then we have Defence Against the Dark Arts!” exclaimed Ron. Harry looked up at the table, where Asher continued to pass out timetables and could see her grinning.
Hermione finished her last spoonful of cereal and said. “Well, I think you should think about the D.A., Harry. People really do want to learn from you. I have to go; Ancient Runes starts in fifteen minutes and I don’t want to be late.”
Ginny pushed her plate away too. “I’m coming. I have Transfiguration; it’s on the way to Ancient Runes; I’ll walk with you, Hermione. See you later, Harry,” she said. She gave him a swift peck on the cheek before she was gone in a flurry of red hair.
Inheritance by lisa_lovegood
Author's Notes:
**Newly Beta'd** Minor changes have been made. Lisa xxx
Chapter 12 “ Inheritance
“And the chess champion wins again!” exclaimed Ron, after beating Harry spectacularly for the third time in less than an hour.
“Okay, I think that’s enough humiliation for one day,” said Harry, glancing around at the small crowd that had gathered to watch Ron give Harry a rather thorough thrashing. Harry looked up at the common room clock. “We’d better go. We have Charms with the Ravenclaws.”
Ron groaned, but grinned and picked up his bag. “I guess you just can’t stand the heat of the chessboard, Harry.”
“Right, whatever you say,” he replied, cuffing his best mate around the head.
“Just because I’m the strategist of the group,” said Ron as they made their way out of the portrait hole and down the seventh floor corridor, “doesn’t mean I deserve all this abuse.”
They continued their friendly banter until they reached the third floor charms corridor. Once inside Professor Flitwick’s classroom, they found that Hermione was already there and had saved them seats on either side of her.
“You’re late! What kept you? You had a free period!” asked Hermione as soon as she spotted them, her equipment already set out neatly in front of her.
Ron flopped down in a seat next to her. “I was busy thrashing Harry’s arse at chess,” he said, trying to sound pompous and self-important, but spoiling the image when he started laughing.
“You know, it’s really not that amazing,” huffed Harry, pretending to be insulted. “You’ve beaten me ever since we were eleven.”
“Ah, the good old days,” Ron chuckled.
Hermione laughed. “The innocent days.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” said Ron, raising his eyebrows. Harry turned in his seat and tried to make the most angelic face possible.
“Are we no longer innocent?” he asked sweetly.
Hermione gave him a joking, narrow-eyed look. “You could fool some with that look, but I know you too well.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hermione.” Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron. “Do you?”
“Course not, mate. Never did.”
Tiny Professor Flitwick once again stood atop the pile of books on his chair and addressed the class in his squeaky voice. “Hello, hello, welcome back! As you well know, you have just started your seventh year, and therefore, in June, you will all be sitting your N.E.W.T.s. These tests are taken in much the same way as your O.W.L.s, but test you not only on highly advanced skills, but also on all skills you have learned throughout your seven years of school, so it is important not only to learn your seventh-year material well, but also to revise things you learned in your earlier years.”
Harry looked sideways at Hermione, who had her head bowed over an already half-filled page of notes. He and Ron shared a glance, but had to look away quickly to stop from laughing out loud.
Harry picked up his quill and dipped it in his ink with a sigh. He had better take a few notes or else feel Hermione’s wrath later. This was going to be a long year.
*
“I want seven inches on Charms useful around the household, due in two weeks, please, and how they are useful.”
Ron rolled his eyes. “First day!” he muttered to himself.
As they packed away, Harry looked around the classroom and realised something had been bugging him all lesson. “Where are the Patil twins?” Harry asked. Neither Parvati nor Padma were in lesson. When he thought about it, he hadn’t seen them at the feast the night before either.
“Their parents didn’t allow them to come back,” said Hermione. They think it’s too dangerous, after all that happened last year...”
“Oh,” said Harry quietly. “Didn’t their parents take them out of school as soon as Dum-” Harry stumbled on the word, “He died?”
Hermione gave him a strange look before continuing, “Yes, they did. I think it’s a bit pointless to take them out of school. I mean, we have professors here who will teach us all how to defend ourselves, and all the wards have been renewed and improved, so I’d say it’s safer here than anywhere else.” By this time, the seventh-year Gryffindors were walking down the third floor stairs towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
“But it’s not, is it? Death Eaters got into Hogwarts once; who says they can’t do it again,” said Ron, in an unexpected moment of maturity. “I think You-Kno-”
“Voldemort,” said Harry automatically.
Ron glanced at Harry. “V-Voldemort,” he said in a rush, “is getting more and more followers, right? So he’s going to try again, isn’t he?”
“But he doesn’t have anyone at Hogwarts to…oh…” said Hermione, glancing uneasily at Harry. Harry stopped short in the middle of the corridor and was totally unprepared for the something that crashed into his back and sent him sprawling. A body landed on top of him and sent the air out of his lungs with an oof!
Harry heard several people laughing, and then it suddenly got quiet, except for an extremely familiar laugh coming from the person struggling to get off him.
“Tonks!” Harry heard Ron exclaim, while at the same time Hermione said, “What are you doing here?!”
Harry rolled over to find Tonks currently sporting her custom spiky pink hair, her hand over her mouth and blushing spectacularly.
“Sorry!” she said, half-laughing, offering Harry a hand up. “I didn’t see you there!”
“Don’t worry about it,” he grinned, the dark mood that had threatened to come over him completely gone after Tonks’ abrupt appearance. “What are you doing here?”
Tonks glanced around and leaned forward to whisper, “I’m still in Hogsmeade, and I have to leave a report with McGonagall.” She winked, and with an airy wave of her hand, she disappeared around the corner.
“That was quite…abrupt,” said Ron, staring round the corner where Tonks had disappeared.
“Typical Tonks, then,” said Harry. “I don’t think she’ll ever change.”
“I don’t think anyone would want her to change,” said Hermione. “At least she gives some comic relief to this world at the moment.”
“What is this?” said Harry, a little more sharply than he meant to. “Official pessimistic day?” He grinned at Hermione to show he was joking when she gave him a reproachful look. “Sorry.”
The Gryffindors lined up on one side of the corridor, the Slytherins on the other, both talking amongst themselves rather than to each other.
“Seventh-years, come in, don’t be shy,” said the bright voice of Asher from the doorway of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. When Harry filed into the room after Seamus, Asher gave him a discreet thumbs-up.
“Morning, Professor,” Harry murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Potter,” she said, tilting her head in greeting, her eyes sparkling. She had her long, dark hair up in a twist at the back of her head, was wearing smart, back trousers and a simple shirt, along with her custom, heeled boots. All this was underneath an over-robe, as opposed to the full robe most professors and wizards chose to wear. Despite the fact that she wasn’t in totally formal wear, he’d never seen her look so professional.
Once everyone had taken their seats at the front of the classroom, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked around and realised that everyone was especially quiet and well behaved, not knowing what this new professor was going to be like, leaving the room in a tense silence.
Asher walked towards the front of the classroom, her heels tapping loudly in the silence. She perched on the edge of her desk and looked round the class with raised eyebrows.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to bite,” she said with a grin. A quiet titter went around the room, though most of the Slytherins stayed determinedly bored-looking, as they always did in this class. Nevertheless, the ice was broken and the students all relaxed their tense postures. “I’m Asher Crellin,” she continued, “and I’m going to be your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this year. Now, first off, I’ve been through your grades for the past six years, and I’ve also been finding out about your past professors.” Asher shifted backwards so she was fully on her desk.
“Well,” she continued, “I have to say that was some interesting reading. You’ve had a servant of Lord Voldemort,” a gasp went around the class when she said the name, but she seemed to be expecting it and continued as if she didn’t hear it. “Next an extremely dashing and famous man who turned out to be a fake and is currently in St Mungo’s long-term care unit. Then you actually had a decent teacher, who ended up quitting after word got out about a certain furry little problem he has. Then…who’s next?”
“Moody,” called out Seamus from the back of the room. “Or who we thought was Moody.”
“Ah, yes. McGonagall told me about that. He turned out to be another Death Eater in disguise, right? And then I hear you had a woman called Dolores Umbridge, some sort of messenger woman from the ministry. I take it she wasn’t taken too well. In fact, several of the professors here had more than a few words to say about her, and from what I’ve heard of her she deserves it all.” Asher shook her head to clear it, and then smiled around the classroom. “Sorry. Next you had“”
“A murderer.” Harry burst out before he could stop himself and looked Asher straight in the eye. The rest of the class went completely silent, staring at him.
Asher faltered and slid off the table. “Yes,” she said softly. “Also known as Severus Snape.” She spat the name out with so much venom the class’ eyes all swivelled back to her. “But we are not here to talk about that,” she continued calmly, “We are here to learn about how to protect ourselves. So only one of your professors have actually taught you anything mildly useful, or maybe two if you count the impostor Moody. Professor Lupin taught you a lot about Dark creatures and how to defend yourselves against them, and Moody went through the Unforgivables, so that leaves me…err, everything else.”
This caused the class to laugh. “Right. Seeing as we have so much to do, we’d better get started! First off, I’d like to explain how I will teach this year. I’ll try to keep bookwork to a minimum, mostly because I know how very boring it can be. There will be the odd class in which I’ll have to explain things in detail, so there will be a few occasions where you’ll have to put up with my drivel for an hour so, but most of the lessons will be set up into two halves. The first half will be an explanation and the second half a practical where you will practice what I just explained, either against each other or against me.”
Dean’s hand shot up in the air.
“Yes, Mr…?”
“Dean Thomas.”
“Would you prefer Mr Thomas or just Dean?”
“Dean’s fine, thanks.”
“Okay, Dean, you wanted to ask something?”
“Yes. We’ll be fighting against you?”
“Yes, you may practice against me. Or maybe one day I’ll get someone else in here for you all to fight against.” She grinned. “I promise I’ll go easy on you “ at first. Are there any other questions? Yes, Hermione?”
“What will we be covering this year?” asked the bushy-haired girl, her quill poised above her parchment, ready to take notes.
“Seeing as it’s your N.E.W.T. year, most of May and June will be spent revising everything, but this term we’ll start off with defensive skills.”
Lavender Brown lifted her hand. “What do you mean by ‘defensive skills’?”
Asher started wandering around the room. She didn’t do it in a way which demanded attention like when Snape strode purposefully round the classroom, but which brought her closer to her students. It seemed Asher didn’t like sitting behind a desk and telling the good little students to get on with their work. She wanted to get in there with the students, to be with them while they learned. And Harry could tell that much after only half an hour in the classroom with her.
“Defensive skills,” she said, “are defensive and offensive spells, basic duelling skills like duelling strategy and defence against higher level Dark creatures you didn’t cover with Professor Lupin; Dementors, Inferi, that sort of thing.”
Harry raised his hand suddenly. “Yes, Harry?” asked Asher. No one asked how she knew his name. Everyone else in the wizarding world had heard of Harry Potter, so why shouldn’t she?
“Are we learning these things because they’ve always been part of the curriculum, or because Voldemort is back and we’re finally doing something about it?”
Asher, who had been listening to him carefully as she strode back towards the front of the classroom, shook her head as she walked past Harry and muttered, “So much like your father,” out of the corner of her mouth for only him to hear.
She leaned back on her desk again as she pondered his question. “Some of these things you wouldn’t need to know if we were in a time of peace,” she started slowly, “but all of them would be useful to know anyway. The fact that Voldemort “ please, get used to hearing his name, as I will not use anything else “ is back is why McGonagall specifically asked me to train you to be able to fight anything that may threaten you.
“I don’t want to frighten you all, but we are at war. We have been for several years, even without knowing it at some points. You, being only a year away from leaving Hogwarts forever, need to know how to look after yourselves, because we don’t know when this war is going to end. I’m not saying you all have to be…soldiers or something, but you all need to know what to do if something does happen to you.”
This stark warning brought the class to complete silence. Harry ducked his head pretending to take notes, but really only breaking eye contact with Asher. He could feel Ron and Hermione’s eyes on him, as well as the whole classes. He wished they wouldn’t stare. There had been reports in the Daily Prophet last year saying that Harry would be the one to defeat Voldemort “ they still called him the “Chosen One.”
Neville raised his hand uncertainly, which Harry was grateful for because it took attention away from him.
“Yes, Mr…?”
“Neville Longbottom.”
Ok, Neville, wha“”Asher tripped over her words and her eyes widened as she looked at Neville properly. “Longbottom?” she squeaked, seemingly forgetting she was in a room full of curious teenage students.
“Um, yes,” said Neville self-consciously, dropping his eyes uncomfortably. Asher seemed to get hold of herself and carried on, obviously not wanting to draw more attention to Neville’s embarrassment of being singled out.
“Yes, Neville, what did you want to ask?”
“Will we cover all that in one term?” he asked, looking back up at her, his cheeks still tinged red. Harry wondered if Neville had any idea why Asher would be curious about his name. Probably not, he thought. Harry also wondered if Asher had any idea what had happened to Neville’s parents, and hoped for Neville’s sake she didn’t ask him.
“Yes, we will. I know it’s quite a lot, but if you concentrate, we will get through it. Right,” said Asher with a clap of her hands, “should we get started?”
*
“…and then she said we’d start duelling on Friday! Proper duelling, not that rubbish Lockheart tried to teach us, but proper skills and stuff,” said a very excited Ron to an interested Ginny during dinner.
“It’s not fair; I don’t have Defence Against the Dark Arts until Wednesday!” she complained. “Pass the potatoes, Harry. When are you meeting McGonagall?” she added in an undertone.
“Seven o’clock,” he replied as he passed her what she requested.
Hermione looked up from her meal. “You should get some homework done before you go, Harry, you don’t know how long you’ll be.”
Ron smirked at Harry. “And you too, Ron,” continued Hermione. “You don’t want to get behind on your first day.”
Harry leaned closer to Ginny and murmured, “I’m sure I could think of more interesting things to do with my time.”
Ginny feigned outrage. “What are you suggesting, Mr Potter?”
He waggled his eyebrows and went back to his dinner, grinning as Ginny laughed and nudged his foot with hers.
When their meal was over, the four friends made their way back to Gryffindor common room, and set up their stuff to start their homework. Harry had gotten seven inches off Flitwick, and then five inches off Professor Sprout on the uses of plants in simple healing spells.
After pulling out Charms: What you need to know, Harry started looking up spells that would be useful around the home. A few minutes later, he felt someone kick his shin lightly. He looked up at Ginny, who was sitting opposite him, only to find her concentrating on her own book. He must have imagined it.
He had only just gotten back to his work when something kicked him again. Looking sharply up again, he saw that Ginny’s head was still bowed but she was smiling slightly, and he was sure Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 wasn’t that funny. He looked back at his parchment and nudged her back lightly. He heard her snort quietly, and she kicked him back.
This went on for a few more minutes, causing Harry to completely lose his concentration. He glared playfully at her still bowed head. Seemingly feeling his gaze on her, she looked up at him and smiled impishly. She slipped her foot out of her shoe and ran her bare toes up his leg. Harry jumped from the unexpected contact, his knee colliding with the underside of the desk with a loud BANG, causing her to laugh outright.
Harry groaned as he nursed his bruised knee. “I’m in pain and all you can do is laugh?” he complained playfully. She seemingly couldn’t give a coherent answer as she tried to get her giggles under control. By now they had drawn the attention of several people, including Ron, who looked at them suspiciously, and Hermione, who sniffed disapprovingly.
Harry looked at the clock across the room. It was quarter to seven. “I’d better get going,” said Harry, and started packing up his stuff. “See you later.” He waved to his friends and went to give Ginny a peck on her cheek, which deepened when she turned her head to capture his lips instead.
“Bye,” she said as he turned to go. “I guess I’ll have to amuse myself with homework now…” Harry laughed as he climbed through the portrait hall and strode quickly down the corridor towards the Headmistress’ office.
He arrived a few minutes before seven and, after he stated the password, the gargoyles jumped aside to reveal the moving staircase. He strode quickly up the steps and knocked on the heavy, wooden door still decorated with the ornate golden griffin knocker.
“Come in,” said the crisp voice of Professor McGonagall, and Harry pushed open the door cautiously.
On first glance, nothing much seemed to have changed in the office, though there weren’t as many weird and wonderful objects around the room, and there was a vase of wild flowers sitting on the huge desk in front of McGonagall. The portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses still hung on the wall, their occupants sleeping soundly in their frames. Harry had to swallow the lump in his throat when he saw Dumbledore’s portrait, which was suspended on the wall behind McGonagall.
“Good evening, Professor,” he said hurriedly, almost forgetting his manners. He could have sworn he saw the flicker of a smile on her lips, but it was gone before he could register it properly, replaced by her best ‘lets get down to business’ look. He must have imagined it.
“Please, sit down, Mr Potter; I have a lot to discuss with you tonight,” she said, motioning to one of the large, squashy armchairs in front of her. Harry sat and waited for her to begin, trying to ignore Dumbledore’s portrait as best he could.
In her usual brisk manner, McGonagall didn’t beat around the bush and said, “Since you came of age in July, you have inherited all of what was your parents’. Their house in Godric’s Hollow is, as you know, yours. You also inherit the Potter estate. This has all“”
Harry couldn’t help but interrupt. “Sorry, Professor, but did you just say, ‘Potter estate’?”
“Yes, Mr Potter, I did.”
“But…” Harry trailed off and McGonagall continued.
“Lily and James set up an account for you at Gringots, which you could access from the age of eleven so it could be of use when you re-joined the wizarding world, and for your school supplies, so all your money has been taken care of. The Potter estate is, unfortunately, just a piece of empty land now. The house was destroyed shortly before your parents went into hiding.”
Harry just nodded dumbly.
McGonagall continued at a brisk pace. “All of these things were cleared during the holidays, and I am surprised you did not receive a letter from Gringots, though things have been very hectic these past months. Perhaps they thought you already knew about all this.” McGonagall took a sheet of parchment from her desk and set it in front of Harry. “You just need to sign here and everything will be clarified. All details concerning the whereabouts and wards placed upon the Potter estate have been placed in your vault.”
“If everything has been taken care of, why do I need to sign anything?” Harry asked, leaning forward to look at a contract of all that was now rightfully his. He almost swallowed his tongue when he saw the amount of Galleons now residing in his vault. “T-that’s all mine?” he said, his voice cracking like it hadn’t done in several years. He had never realised just how much money he owned.
“The signing of the contract is more of a formality than anything else. Your parents had magically binding wills, which means that all they wish to pass onto you at a certain age automatically goes to you without having to have any sort of consent from you or any third party. And yes, that is all yours. The Potters are an ancient family and have always had a rather large fortune, and that along with the small fortune to received of Sirius makes you rather well off, Mr Potter.”
Harry picked up the quill McGonagall had placed in front of him and signed the contract. When he was done, she thanked him, folded the letter, and placed it in a parchment envelope. “I will send this off as soon as I can,” she said.
“There is something else we need to discuss tonight, about Professor Dumbledore,” she continued. “Several weeks ago, over a month ago in fact, Albus’ will was found and read to those who were associated. Unfortunately, you were with your aunt and uncle, and we didn’t think it wise to take you out of there earlier than we had planned.” Harry’s heart started hammering in his chest, though he was not sure why.
McGonagall opened one of her desk drawers and pulled out a polished wooden box, about a foot long and half as tall as it was wide, and a small brass key that seemed to fit the keyhole. She placed them on the edge of the desk and looked back up at Harry.
“This is what he left you. I have no idea what is in there. You may want to go somewhere private to open it.” She looked carefully at Harry through her square-framed glasses, and her usually piercing gaze softened slightly. Harry looked down at his knees, took a shuddering breath, then looked back up and nodded at her to continue.
“On another, though perhaps related note, Miss Tonks reported to me today, and on her way out she gave me these.” McGonagall reached once again into the drawers behind the desk, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder how much stuff she had in there. His brow furrowed, and then his eyes widened when she pulled out a large stack of parchment. “Do you know what these are for?” asked McGonagall.
Realisation dawned on Harry, and he wondered how Tonks had done it. “Yes, I do. I asked Tonks a favour a couple weeks ago and it looks like she’s managed it!”
McGonagall stared at him, as if trying to work a puzzle out. “If you would tell the Order what you’re doing that involves Voldemort, and what you were doing with Albus that night, we could help you.”
“I made a promise, Professor,” said Harry at once. “I told him I wouldn’t tell, and so I won’t. There really isn’t a lot anyone can do to help, and anyway, the less people who know, the better.” He had expected this to come up tonight.
McGonagall’s posture stayed the same, but Harry noticed that her already thin lips were getting thinner still. She shook her head and said, “All he will tell me is that you will inform me of what I need to know when the time is right.”
Harry’s eyes snapped automatically to the painted face of Dumbledore. He was sitting in a comfortable looking chintz armchair, his aged face looking less ragged and old than it had the last time Harry had seen the real Dumbledore. He forced his eyes back to the headmistress when some of what she had said sunk in.
“He talks to you?” he asked, a jolt going though his stomach.
“Yes,” said McGonagall, more softly than he had ever heard her, “as is tradition with all these portraits, he is there to help the current head. But he isn’t the he isn’t the real Albus Dumbledore, Harry. It is just a shadow, a painter’s vision of what he was. You must remember that, as must we all.”
Harry nodded silently, looked down at his feet, and watched the toe of his trainer scuff along the stone floor. Silence stretched out between them, before McGonagall continued once more.
“There is one more thing I need to discuss with you, Harry.” He looked up at her, hoping it wasn’t going to be any more depressing news. “It’s about what you called Dumbledore’s Army.” That got Harry looking straight into her face, wondering where she was going with this.
“What about it?” he asked.
She paused a moment, surveying him through her glasses. “I think you should consider restarting it. Please, hear me out,” she said, as Harry looked ready to interrupt. “Hogwarts was broken into last year, as you well know, and it put the students in great danger. I do not mean to send them into battle as soldiers, but they need to be trained. I have requested that Professor Crellin teach the older students defence techniques that would be useful in times like these, and you did an awful lot of good by teaching those students two years ago.”
“Professor, I don’t think“”
“You, Harry, are a great teacher. I know you are; you’re a born leader. You have so much you can share with your classmates, and they will listen to someone their own age.”
Harry looked long and hard at the women in front of him, though he didn’t really see her through the swarm of thoughts flying round his brain. Neville, Dean, and Seamus had all asked him about the D.A. They seemed to want to be taught by him. Ron had approved of the idea too, as had Hermione and Ginny, but what about everyone else? Would they all want to be taught by him?
“I don’t know… I have Quidditch to organise, and it’s the N.E.W.Ts this year, not to mention… besides, who would want to be taught by me?” said Harry, vocalising his thoughts.
“It is up to you, but do keep it in mind. Perhaps over the next few weeks you’ll see how many people really do want to protect themselves and their families, and are willing to get help from you.”
Harry nodded. “I’ll think about it..”
“Well,” said McGonagall, standing. “I think that is all. Do you have anything to ask me about?” Harry shook his head, rose from his seat, and picked up the box from Dumbledore, stuffing the key in his pocket. He shrunk the parchment before slipping that into his robes as well. “If you need me, you will see me in class. Goodnight, Harry.”
“Thank you, Professor, goodnight,” said Harry as he turned to the doorway and walked back down the rotating staircase. It wasn’t until Harry had started down the corridor that he realised just how many times she had called him Harry, rather than her usual “Potter.”
As he was walking through the empty hallways, he could hear only the sounds of his echoing footsteps and his thoughts. He started to wonder what could be in this box from Dumbledore. What could he have wanted to give him?
He needed to thank Tonks next time he saw her. He wondered how she’d managed to get the list of all the Death Eaters, but he probably wouldn’t see her for a while; maybe at the next Hogsmeade visit, or at Christmas. He’d have to ask her.
Hermione would be happy that they had this list. It would give her something positive to do, rather than drone through book after book on Dark artefacts and Dark magic, only to come up with naught. Maybe they could get one step closer to the illusive R.A.B.
His thoughts somehow changed to Ginny. What was he going to do when they were reading though information that had nothing do with N.E.W.Ts, or when they had to disappear for long periods of time as they searched out the Horcruxes? He could just tell her nothing, say that he couldn’t tell her, but he honestly didn’t think she would stand for that much longer.
It was then that he knew what he had to do. He would tell her everything: about him, about Voldemort, about Horcruxes… But how?
Author's Notes: Thank you for reading! If you are feeling kind, or have any questions, leave a review! Also, go check out this story's one shot/spin off "How Long.
Lisa xxx
Confessions and Combat Duelling by lisa_lovegood
Author's Notes:
I'm so sorry for the terribly long time between updates. I promice, it will never happen again. (on another note, don't hate me for the end of this chapter) As always, I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter 13 “ Confessions and Combat Duelling
There was a surprisingly loud bang which echoed down between the bookshelves of the Hogwarts library when Ron’s head struck the table in front of him in frustration. “This is useless,” he groaned. “There are hundreds of names here. What happens if there are none with the initials RAB, or what if there is more than one?” asked Ron, his voice muffled as he spoke into the table.
“Well, we won’t find out until we look through them, so stop whining,” snapped Hermione, not looking up from her page.
Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. With a slight shake of his head, he re-focused on the pages in front of him. The lists were long, and it was strange to look at all those names, most with a birth date and a death date. Almost everyone who had perished had been barely middle-aged and it gave Harry goose bumps to see all those names down on paper. And these were just Voldemort’s men.
The late afternoon sun was shining though the clouds and reflecting off the window next to Harry, distracting him. As his eyes became glued to the mesmerising light dancing across the glass, his thoughts wandered to other, albeit related subjects.
He had yet to summon up the nerve to open the box Dumbledore had left him. He had spent the last two nights in bed with it on his lap. And yet, even after spending so long thinking about it, there was some part of him, perhaps the innocent, eleven-year-old part who had first seen Albus Dumbledore’s face on a chocolate frog card, that didn’t want to let go. Opening the last mystery, the last bit of knowledge his headmaster would give him, would bring the reality of Dumbledore’s death back down to Earth.
Another problem still plaguing him was “
“What are you doing?”
There was a sudden flurry of movement from Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they tried to cover up the many sheets of parchment that littered the desk. Unfortunately, one of these sheets slid off the table and landed right at the feet of a very surprised Ginny Weasley. She quickly bent down to snatch it up, and all three friends stiffened and watched her apprehensively.
Giving Harry a strange look, she sat down at the table with a sigh. “Should I ask, or am I just wasting my breath?” she said as she politely passed Hermione the sheet. “I know it’s none of my business, but if you want secrecy, the library, no matter what deep, dark corner of it you go to, is not a great place to hide.”
Harry sat down heavily opposite her and shared a glance with Ron, who shrugged, and Hermione, who blew a strand of hair out of her face with a huff and stacked all the parchment up in a neat pile. He looked uncomfortably at Ginny, who was watching him with an unreadable expression on her face.
Thoughts had been wandering through his brain all day. What if she ran a mile when she found out what he had to do? What if she didn’t want anything to do with a walking time bomb like him? She wouldn’t do that, he’d always berate himself. She’s not like that.
But to find out that it was his destiny; that it was all prophesised? Not to mention all that he had to do before he could even think about going after Voldemort? What person wouldn’t be completely put off by that?
He jumped when he realised Ginny was waving a hand in front of his face and that he hadn’t spoken for several moments.
“Uh “”
“We’re going for a walk,” said Hermione suddenly, grabbing Ron’s arm and pulling him up from the table, much to his surprise.
“Hey! What do you “” Ron started, but Hermione was already striding toward the Library’s entrance. Harry suppressed a glare. He knew he shouldn’t have mentioned telling Ginny about everything last night, but he had, and Hermione had insisted he tell her as soon as possible. This, in Hermione’s eyes, seemed to be his chance.
Harry and Ginny sat in silence for some time. She tapped her fingers quietly on the worn desk, and he tried to think of a spell that would make the ground swallow him up.
“Harry “”
“Ginny “” They both stopped and laughed quietly. “You first,” said Harry.
She got up, walked around the table, and sat in the chair next to his. “Tell me.” It was an order, not a request. Harry looked into her face as she weaved her fingers into his. Her eyes were burning with a determined fire. She was going to get answers and he knew it.
After several moments of silence, Harry looked around. “You’re right; this isn’t the best place for privacy.” He collected the papers and shrank them before placing them in his pocket and guiding Ginny out of the library.
Neither he nor Ginny said anything as they walked the halls. He led her up three sets of staircases until they were walking down the seventh floor corridor. At this point, he spared her a glance.
Ginny was still watching him, but he could read her better this time. Her face was a mixture of determination and stubbornness, and just for a moment, Harry thought he detected a flash of uneasiness in her eyes, but it was soon hidden as she raised her chin stubbornly. It was obvious now that she knew he had been keeping something from her and that he had important something to say. It seemed his time for putting it off had run out.
“Harry,” said Ginny, motioning towards the blank stretch of wall beside them.
He was jolted out of his musings and realised they had been standing in an empty corridor, with neither saying anything nor moving anywhere. He stepped forward and paced in front of the wall three times. I need somewhere we can talk in private…
A heavy oak door abruptly popped into existence and Harry pulled on the brass handle, letting Ginny enter before himself. He walked in after her and locked the door behind him.
The room was decorated very much like Gryffindor common room, with deep burgundy walls and a huge fireplace with a dancing fire. In front of it were two old and worn armchairs. Ginny took one of the seats and Harry sat opposite her, refusing to meet her eyes.
The silent minutes stretched between them. Here it was: crunch time. Harry still had little idea of what to say. Where should he start? How would it end? He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” said Ginny, watching him closely. She was curled up in her chair with her feet underneath her. Ginny looped her hair behind her ears and gave her boyfriend her full attention.
Harry let out a long breath and began to tell the story of himself, which very few people knew. “You know that my parents went into hiding before they were killed.”
Ginny nodded. “Yes, Voldemort was after them, wasn’t he?”
“Well… that’s not technically true. He was after me, not my parents. It was me he wanted to kill, but they got in his way so they were killed too.”
“Why?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Because…” Harry faltered. “Do you remember the night Sirius died and the Prophesy that had my name in it?”
“Yes. It smashed, didn’t it? No one heard it.”
Harry sighed. “That wasn’t the only copy of it. Dumbledore heard it when it was originally given by Trelawney, and he showed me later that night… It said I was the one who would end it. I’m the ‘Chosen One’, or, in the words of the Prophesy, ‘the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.’” Harry stared at the fire, a part of him not wanting to see how Ginny would react, yet fighting the urge to look at her because another part of him did.
“I…” Ginny started, but words seemed to fail her. Harry kept his eyes stubbornly anywhere but on her. “Look at me, Harry,” she said. He saw her lean forward, but still watched the flames dance in the fireplace.
She sighed. “You seem more afraid to tell me than you are of what you have to do.”
Harry looked at her so quickly his neck cracked. She smiled slightly at him, her brown eyes looking…resigned. There was no shock, and Harry’s eyes widened at this revelation. He had expected her to be horrified, scared, but then he realised something. That was not like Ginny. Ginny was strong, accepting, and took him exactly how he was. She always had.
“I thought…” he started, but stopped. He still had more to tell her. “I can’t just go out and have a duel with him. I have to do more before he can be killed…”
Harry told Ginny everything he could think of. About Tom Riddle, about his lessons with Dumbledore, about Horcruxes, and finally about the research they’d been doing so far this year. He still left out a few specific details he knew would upset her, even though he knew she wouldn’t be happy when she found out.
“…so we looked for information in the library at Grimmauld Place about the Hogwarts founders, but came up with nothing. Remus is still looking for us and says he’ll keep his ears open, but seeing as I’ve not heard from him, I’m presuming he’s had little success.”
Somewhere in the middle of Harry’s confessions, Ginny had apparently gotten tired of sitting alone and had wiggled her way onto his lap. “What were you all looking through in the Library?” she asked. So far she had listened to all he had said without much interruption, only the occasional question.
Harry reached into his robes and pulled out the lists. “These. It’s all the Death Eaters ever known by the ministry. I think most of them are dead, and very few are in Azkaban.”
Ginny took the parchments from him and scanned them, her jaw dropping. “But… there are so many dead… what about the Death Eaters of today?”
Harry let out a short laugh. “I think Voldemort’s recruiting and the ministry doesn’t know who’s joining his side. Anyway, we’re looking for Death Eaters that are probably dead, anyway.”
“How did you get these? Aren’t they from the ministry?”
“I have Tonks to thank for that. I really hope she didn’t get into trouble for it; she kind of didn’t ask permission, if you get what I mean…”
Ginny giggled. “You know, Tonks can occasionally be discreet, when she’s at work.”
After a moment of silence, Ginny sighed and put the pages on the floor, before wrapping her arms around Harry and burying her face in his neck. “Do you want to tell me about the Horcruxes that have been destroyed already?”
Harry stiffened. Here was the part he had kept quiet about. He had hoped she wouldn’t ask about it. It brought up subjects he knew she wouldn’t want to remember, but now she had asked; he had to tell her.
“Well… Dumbledore destroyed the ring, and…and I destroyed one.”
Ginny leaned back and looked at him. “What was it, Harry?” she asked quietly. Harry closed his eyes to the look in hers. She knows. She’s worked it out…
“The diary,” he said. “It was Tom Riddle’s diary.” He opened his eyes and saw that she had gone very still and slightly pale. “Ginny?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s just… It was actually Him, not just a memory, but Voldemort. And he was inside me.” Harry felt her shiver. Goosebumps had erupted over her arms. She let out a breath she’d been holding in. “Thank you, Harry. I don’t think I ever did thank you properly. It seems you did more than save me that day…but thank you anyway. If it weren’t for you…” she shuddered. “I wouldn’t be here to discuss it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I did what anyone would do “”
“No,” she said vehemently. “Not everyone would have done that. I was just your best friend’s annoying little sister, yet you almost got killed saving me. Not everyone has that bravery in them.”
Harry felt his cheeks going warm and she laughed good-naturedly. “And no one could possibly be as modest as you. Harry, you have no idea just how brave and…how heroic“”
“Ginny…” started Harry, shifting uncomfortably from her words.
“- No, you are heroic, Harry.” She put a hand on his cheek. “I know it’s embarrassing for you, but I’ll say it anyway. You’ve faced Voldemort and his Death Eaters how many times? You’d do anything as long as you knew that everyone you care about, and even good people you don’t know get out alive.”
She suddenly smiled widely.
“What?” Harry asked, torn between being amused at her sudden mood change and alarmed by that gleam in her eye.
“I think you need a proper thank you,” she smirked, leaning towards him until her face was inches from his.
“Yeah?” he laughed. “And what do you have in mmnf -”
*
“I try to avoid disappointing people as much as possible, and I always live up to a promise. Today class, as promised, we are starting the topic of duelling!” Excited exclamations at once erupted round the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, making Professor Crellin smile to herself, remembering her own school days, when her class’ reaction had been very much the same.
Just over a week had gone by since Harry had told all to Ginny, yet he had very little time to discuss it with her, or even get any more research done. N.E.W.T.s were not named that for no reason, and Harry was already feeling rather nastily exhausted. And it was only his second week of seventh year.
Harry now found himself on this dull, damp, Friday afternoon, sitting next to a much excited Ron, though he himself was rather looking forward to this lesson as well. Hermione was flipping through her DADA textbook, probably skipping to the section about duelling, which she had no doubt already read several times over.
He looked around the classroom to see Neville, looking slightly anxious, next to a very over-excited Seamus, who was all but bouncing out of his seat in his eagerness to prove his awe-inspiring skills in combat. Dean was sitting on Seamus’ other side, shaking his head at his Irish friend.
Blaise Zabini was sitting at the back of the class with his usual ‘Greater-Than-Thou’ expression, surrounded by his Slytherin friends, a few of whom seemed to be trying very hard not to show their enthusiasm about this lesson.
Asher let the class’ excited murmurings go on for a few moments, before getting their attention once again. “If we are going to do this we need some space, so can you all please stand? Thank you.” With a wave of her wand, all the chairs, tables, and the class’ belongings slid across the floor and lined up next to the walls, leaving a large empty space in the centre of the classroom.
She removed her over robe, throwing it onto her desk haphazardly, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. “Lovely. Now,” started Asher, walking to the middle of the room, where the class surrounded her. “There are three main types of duelling. Can anyone tell me the first?”
Hermione’s hand, to no one’s surprise, shot straight in the air. “Yes, Hermione?” said Asher.
“Formal Duelling,” she said promptly.
“Very good, Hermione. Could you tell the class the reasons for Formal Duelling, perhaps?”
Hermione nodded with a smile. “Formal Duelling was generally practiced hundreds of years ago, mostly between wizard families. They were usually just to prove the strength and ability of each new generation. It was tradition for each male of the family, when they turned seventeen, to duel another adult male from another wizarding family. They were much planned affairs, and were mostly organised so different families could meet and compare the strength of their offspring and the grandeur of each other’s homes, which was where most Formal Duels took place.”
Asher grinned. “Very good, Hermione, I see you’ve been doing your homework.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Ten points to Gryffindor. Can anyone name another type of duelling?”
Much to Harry’s surprise, Blaise Zabini’s raised his hand , and Asher seemed pleasantly surprised as well. “Yes, Mr Zabini?”
“Competitive Duelling,” he said as if the answer was obvious.
“Excellent. What can you tell us about Competitive Duelling?”
“Competitive Duelling is competitions. They’re planned, and you have to use a wide variety of curses and hexes, as well as not getting hit yourself, to win.” Blaise crossed his arms over his chest, signalling that he had said all he was going to say for a while.
“That is correct. Ten points to Slytherin.” Though she hid it well, Harry could tell Asher was as surprised as he was at this change of attitude from Zabini. “Now, the final type of Duelling, and the one we will be concentrating on, is called Combat Duelling. This type is very different from the other two. Where the other types are planned in advance, the central theme of Combat Duelling is the fact that they are unprompted. You don’t know you’re in a combat duel until you’re in one. Also, where Formal and Competitive duels are often just a volley of curses and hexes from one person to the other, and are more about showing off all the impressive spells you know, a combat duel is about getting rid of your opponent as quickly as you can using all the resources you have on hand.”
She grinned around the class. “So, who wants to go first?” Her pupils stared back at her with wide eyes, and most tried to discretely take a step backwards. She stifled a laugh at the reaction of the teenagers, and her eyes soon fell upon Harry. Her smile widened.
“Harry! How thoughtful of you to volunteer!” She hastily grabbed his arm and dragged him to the centre next to her, despite his protests. She asked the class to step back as far as they could and waved her wand, creating a shield around her and Harry that would keep any stray curses away from the class.
“Okay, Harry. The rules are simple. You are armed with all you have inside this shield, though I suggest we stick with hexes and curses that can be mended without an extended stay with Madam Pomfrey. Do you agree?” Harry nodded dumbly, trying to adjust to the fact that Asher had just volunteered him to try and hex her. “Okay. You ready? Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.” She winked as the class watched on in high interest. Harry shook himself, before squaring his jaw and nodding for her to start.
“Three…Two…” before she finished her countdown, Asher had thrown a non-verbal stunner at Harry, which he barely deflected.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, throwing a full body bind her way. She laughed teasingly, which only got Harry more riled.
“As I said, Combat Duelling “” She stepped neatly out of the way of another of Harry’s spells. “Is supposed to be unexpected. Constant Vigilance, as good old Mad-Eye would say!”
Harry snorted, which turned out to be a mistake because he lost his concentration for a moment and didn’t quite move out of the way of a bight yellow spell. He hissed and gritted his teeth as the stinging hex caught his left elbow, deciding he was going to have to put everything he had into this fight if he wanted to get out of it walking straight.
“Stupefy!” he shouted, nearly falling flat as he skidded out of the way of Asher’s curses, which were coming at him in unbelievably quick succession. She laughed at him, which grated his nerves. While this made his spells come quicker, his aim was heavily impaired by his hastiness.
“Come on, Harry, you can do better than that! What’s my plan? What’s helping me?” she asked teasingly, jumping out of the way of as many curses as she was sending. The class’ attention became glued to the duel as it seemed to jump up a gear due to Harry’s irritation. Their professor was by far the better dueller, but Harry was not doing badly by any means. He had only been hit two or three times by minor curses, and the duel still went on. Though Harry hadn’t noticed the switch, he had stopped saying his spells out loud and was now casting them all soundlessly.
Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance. She had changed her tactic now. She was circling him, light and graceful on her feet, and he was finding it increasingly hard to get a straight aim at her.
“Remember what I said, Harry,” she chimed, lightly stepping around him once again, not even bothering with a shield and simply moving away from his curses. “Use all you are armed with. All you have inside this shield.”
“All I have is my wand!” Harry shouted in frustration. Droplets of sweat were forming on his brow, and he had lost count of how long they had been duelling. He was sure she could have taken him out by now, but had for some reason refrained from doing so.
“Oh really?” Suddenly, she stopped moving, raising her wand high. This was his chance and he took it, quickly sending a tripping hex her way. He was shocked when it hit right on the mark. Asher fell over her own feet, landing flat on her back on the cold stone floor. He hastily moved forward, stupidly thinking the duel was over as his classmates cheered. But when he looked at his professor, he was confused. Why was she smirking like that?
Just as he walked within arms length, Asher swung her legs around, hitting him full force in the back of the knees. Harry fell to the floor, hastily jerking his arms out to stop his fall, but they were quickly wrenched to his sides, and his legs were seemingly glued together as a full body bind did its job. Harry crashed to the floor.
If Harry could have groaned at his stupidity, he would have. As it was, he stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to get his breath back and blushing slightly as his class cheered for Asher. A moment later, his professor blocked his view of the rafters with a wide grin.
“Finite Incantartem.” Harry’s body loosened, and he took her offered hand and stood.
“That was excellent, Harry. I haven’t ever had competition like that from a student,” she said with a smirk.
“You duel students often?” Harry laughed.
Asher chuckled and winked. “You haven’t had detention yet, have you, Harry? Anyway, that was fantastic. The further on into the duel you got, the more you concentrated and improved greatly. Can anyone tell me what they learned from watching that?”
Someone laughed nervously. “Don’t get detention with your defence teacher.” The class sniggered.
“Anything apart from that?” asked a chuckling Asher, turning to look at all her students. “Think about what I said. Harry could use all he had in the shield. Think about how I got Harry disarmed.”
“Not to use your wand all the time?” Harry guessed. He had surreptitiously moved back beside Ron and Hermione and away from the limelight around Asher.
“To a certain degree you’re right. The trick is to use all you have. This includes things randomly lying on the floor, which you could use as a distraction or even as a weapon, and yourself. A well-placed kick could save your life.” She said this in such a way that it was clear she had great experience in giving out well-placed kicks. “Is there anything else that could help you along the way?” The class remained silent.
“OK. Tips for Combat Duelling: Don’t get distracted, but keep your mind open to the outside as well. Notice how Harry got distracted by a close spell, leaving a fraction of a second where he was completely defenceless? “ No offence, Harry. You can’t get distracted by near misses, not even minor spells which hit dead on, even if it does sting a bit. A Death Eater isn’t going to allow you a time out, for goodness sake.” She was getting worked up, and Harry could tell she was either very passionate about duelling itself, or about her students being able to duel properly. Probably the latter, he thought, with a fair bit of the former thrown in.
“You must keep focus on the person or persons you’re duelling, but you must also keep your mind open for sneak attacks from behind or the like. You can’t be goaded. Your opposition could say things from your worst nightmares. They could insult you. They could tell you disgusting lies. They could tell you disgusting truths. Don’t rise to them. Don’t lose your temper or do things you will regret later, no matter who they are. Furthermore, try to pick up on spell patterns they’re using and tactics they exploit. When I was moving around Harry, he used the tripping hex very often, so I knew that was the first thing he would try when I stopped moving. But Harry didn’t know that the tripping hex would give me an advantage. What advantage was that?”
Hermione raised her hand. “Your ability to use your body as well as your wand, even when you’re on the floor.”
“Correct. The opposition may presume they’ve won because you’re on the floor, therefore letting their guard down. Okay, lastly you must practice performing all your spells, at least your basic charms “ stunners, body binds, tripping hexes, stinging hexes, silencing charms, summoning charms, banishing charms, et cetera, et cetera “ without saying the incantations out loud, which, funnily enough, is your homework!”
*
As Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry sat at dinner that night, Harry tried his best to be inconspicuous, but he felt the stares of half the student body. He was used to stares; it came with the territory when you were The-Boy-Who-Lived. But tonight was particularly bad. News that Harry Potter had duelled a professor had spread around Hogwarts like wildfire. People seemed to be rather ignorant of the fact that the duel had taken place in a classroom, and was a practical Professor Crellin had organised to show how Combat Duelling was used to its full advantage.
“Harry,” said Hermione quite abruptly. He looked up from his meal with a fork full of mashed potato halfway to his mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Have you thought about the DA yet?” She gave him a look that clearly said he should have been thinking about it. He had, but mainly to avoid thinking about anything else. That, when he thought about it, wasn’t a good thing, but it was better than ignoring all of his responsibilities. “Yes, I have, Hermione,” he replied and speared his mash into his mouth.
Hermione stared at him, as did Ron and Ginny. Moments passed and Harry didn’t say anything.
“Well?” snapped Ginny, seemingly unable to wait any longer for a response.
Harry set his fork down and leaned back, his brow knit, wondering whether this was the right decision.
He grinned. “I think it’s a good idea. Dumbledore’s Army is going to rise again.”
*
At Hermione’s insistence, Harry went straight to the Headmistress’ office after dinner to tell her of his decision about the DA. They discussed it for some time, and by the time Harry left it was half an hour until curfew.
They had decided that the classes would be held on Wednesday evenings in a spare classroom. They would start in two weeks, giving people time to sign up on forms left in each common room, though Harry very much doubted anyone from Slytherin would want to join.
McGonagall suggested he talk to Professor Crellin so she could help him come up with a lesson plan. Deciding there was no time like the present, Harry turned in the direction of the DADA classroom. But when he reached it, his knock got no reply. Figuring she was in her office, Harry tried the handle. It turned with a satisfying click and swung open.
Harry strode across the stone floor and saw a light coming from the office door, which was open a little. When he reached it, Harry raised his knuckles to knock, only to hear Asher’s voice float to his ears.
““ I’m doing okay. Marking homework’s a chore though. I swear, I don’t know how Minerva copes with the amount she sets.”
Harry leant forward slightly as he heard a distinctly masculine chuckle, though it seemed oddly distant. The male voice continued, “You’ll get used to it. Tell me about this excellent duel with Harry you were so excited about before. Tonks is interested in hearing about it as well, by the way.” Tonks? Harry thought. Who was that man? The voice seemed familiar… who did it belong to?
“He was fantastic, Remus.” Remus? What’s he doing here? “The best untrained dueller I’ve seen; great reflexes and a lot of magical potential. This boy “ sorry, man “ has power. I’m not exaggerating when I say he could give half the ministry’s Aurors a run for their money, and he’s not even fully trained.”
Harry ignored his burning cheeks and pushed the door open a bit more to peak inside the office. Even though he was curious to continue listening to the conversation, he felt extremely rude to be listening to his friend’s “ not to mention his professor’s “ conversation.
When Harry could see into the office, it seemed there was no second person in the room at all, only Asher in a squishy chair, a stack of parchment in her lap and bare feet on her desk. She seemed to be talking into a picture frame, much to his bemusement. Harry had missed what Remus had said in reply, but Asher continued, “I think I need to “ AHH!”
Asher had spotted him. The frame she had been talking into went flying and landed on the floor, smashing into many pieces. She had her wand drawn, and for a moment Harry was sure she was going to hex him.
After a second’s pause, she seemed to realise who it was and let out a long breath, dropping her wand to her side. “Merlin, Harry. Don’t do that to me. Come in.”
Asher sighed loudly as she knelt down to pick up the pieces of glass on the floor, but when Harry looked properly, he realised it wasn’t glass that had smashed. In fact, it wasn’t a picture frame at all. It was a mirror.
Harry stared as she picked up the fragments. The mirror brought pictures of Sirius and Harry’s own broken mirror to his mind.
“Harry? Are you feeling okay?” questioned Asher as she deposited the broken mirror on her desk. Her eyes widened. “Did you…”
“Yes,” said Harry, his voice oddly strangled. “How did you “”
“It’s a charm,” said Asher.
Harry nodded. “I know. Sirius…” he trailed off and Asher’s face fell slightly.
“What about him?” she asked. “Sirius gave you a mirror like this? That you could contact him with?” Harry nodded, not looking at her. There was silence. “Sit down, Harry.”
Harry looked up, startled. He had been lost in a world of his own for a moment. He complied and Asher did the same, summoning the unmarked essays she had dropped.
“Do you still have your mirror?” she asked. “I could hook it up to mine.”
“But it’s broken!” Harry suddenly burst out, not sure why he had almost shouted, or which mirror he was talking about.
“It can easily be fixed. It’s a simple enough charm. James and Sirius… James and Sirius had been doing it since they were in their fourth year. Used to use them in “”
“Detention,” finished Harry.
Her eyes went wide. “Yes. Sirius told you that?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah.” He fiddled with a loose thread on the deep purple armchair he was sitting in. He took this opportunity to look around the room. It was very different from what it had been like with any of its previous owners. There were many posters of duelling tactics and the like, as well as a few of Muggle and magical music groups and performers. A distinctly purple Weird Sisters poster caught his eye.
There were a few pictures on the walls also, as well as a bookshelf which housed mostly defence books. Her music box was, unsurprisingly, sitting on her desk.
Harry shook himself back to the conversation and asked, “How do you know about them? Why do you have one?”
“I know about them because we “ that is your parents, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Leanna, and I “ used them during the last year or so of the first war. We used them so we could get in touch with each other easily. It was your dad’s idea. He and Sirius, as you know, used them in school.”
“So you know the charm to connect them?” asked Harry.
“I do.”
“And they will work again, even if you break your mirror.”
“Once you repair it, yes. Do you want me to repair yours?” she asked softly.
Harry watched her for a moment. “Yes, please,” he said quietly.
Asher never asked any questions about how the mirror got smashed, but suggested that he come to her office tomorrow with the mirror so she could fix it. She also said she’d talk to him about the DA, which she very much approved of, tomorrow as well.
When Harry went up to bed that night, he once again removed Dumbledore’s box from his trunk. He closed his curtains around him, deciding it was time to finally let go of Albus Dumbledore. This was the last thing Harry would ever receive from him and putting it off did no good; it only helped him deny the truth he needed to face.
Harry placed the small key in the lock, turned it, and with slightly shaky fingers opened the lid.
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