A/N: And so begins chapter two. I don’t want to keep you from what I hope might be stimulating reading. Read on, my friends, and enjoy.
Harry was shocked to discover that Dudley had accompanied his parents to the train station to pick up Harry. Harry knew that Dudley had just turned seventeen, and wondered what reason he could possibly have to have gone with his parents instead of slouching off with his friends. And, in fact, this was the first thing Harry wanted to know when he, Ron, and Hermione reached Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.
“What’s he doing here?” Harry asked coolly.
Uncle Vernon looked at Harry as though he were a particularly disgusting insect on the windshield of his car. Aunt Petunia was looking questioningly at Ron and Hermione, but Uncle Vernon was distracted by, in his way of thinking, the insolent question his nephew has just asked.
“Well, if you must know, and I don’t think you do, but I’ll tell you anyway, Dudders had an early morning appointment with a university nearby and by the time we were finished there, we didn’t have time to drop him at home.”
“University, him?” Harry gave a short, humorless laugh, “That’ll be the day.”
“Dudley’s bright future has nothing to do with you. Just because you don’t have a future, don’t presume to bring our son down with you.”
As Uncle Vernon and Harry glared at one another, Hermione cleared her throat. The Dursley’s attention flew to her, and Uncle Vernon looked back at Harry as Hermione gave a small smile.
“What’re they doing here?” Uncle Vernon asked Harry scathingly, “Don’t they have families to go to?”
“They’re coming with us,” Harry said, giving his uncle challenging look.
“They most certainly are not!” Uncle Vernon roared so loudly that passers-by were beginning to stare.
Hermione and Ron looked nervously at Harry, clearly trying to predict how Harry was going to convince his uncle that they were indeed coming with them.
“Listen,” Harry said softly, almost menacingly, “The man who killed my parents is back and doing quite well from what I’ve heard. That means he’s coming after me. I lost my godfather, I was considered a freak for a year, then I was idolized because it’s my responsibility to kill one of the most powerful wizards ever.”
Uncle Vernon flinched at the word wizard, but seemed to have his eyes locked on Harry’s.
“In addition to all of that, I lost someone else just two days ago. A man who was more like a father than you have ever been. You met him, I believe. Dumbledore?”
Harry did not stop for confirmation of this fact. He was really getting angry now, and his voice escalated accordingly.
“So, you’ll forgive me if I don’t really care what you say. You see, Dumbledore wanted me to return to Privet Drive, just briefly, once more before my seventeenth birthday. So that’s what I’m going to do. And my friends are coming with me. We’re only staying for two days, then you will never have to see me again, if I can help it. Don’t try to stop them coming. They’re of age in my world, and I’ll be of age in less than a month. You never know, Dudley could wake up one morning as a newt.”
Uncle Vernon mouthed wordlessly for a moment, then nodded. Aunt Petunia looked frightened, and she was clutching Dudley around he neck, which was no easy feat considering the fact that Dudley was now taller than she was, and his neck was as thick as her entire body. Harry suddenly noticed that Dudley was not looking as he usually did in the face of anything that was magical. He wasn’t clutching his bottom or trying to move as far away from Harry as possible. He was goggling at Hermione, who didn’t notice as she was still watching Uncle Vernon.
Harry would have laughed at Dudley’s obvious infatuation with his best friend, but he thought that he probably shouldn’t alert Ron’s attention to this fact. He would most likely fail to see the amusement in Dudley’s little crush, and Dudley might really find himself to be a cold-blooded reptile. At that moment, Hermione moved towards Uncle Vernon, clearly hoping to make a good impression. Harry could have told her that this was a waste of time, but, knowing Hermione, she wouldn’t have listened.
“Hello, Mr. Dursley. I’m Hermione Granger. It’s nice to meet you. Harry’s told us so much about you,” Hermione said politely offering her hand. Uncle Vernon ignored it and started walking towards the car. Aunt Petunia followed, pushing a reluctant Dudley in front of her. Hermione looked a bit disgruntled, and Ron just chuckled at her.
“‘Harry’s told us so much about you, Mr. Dursley,’” Ron imitated.
“Oh shut up, Ron, at least I made the effort,” Hermione snapped.
“Yeah, well, I reckon he knows that anything Harry’s said about him wasn’t anything good, doesn’t he? So, really, it was a bit like you were insulting him.”
“I wasn’t insulting him, Ron, I was making use of what some of us call manners.”
“Look, you two, as used to you two bickering as I am, my aunt and uncle’s car is probably not a good place for it,” Harry said as they reached the parking lot.
“Right, sorry mate,” Ron apologized.
“S’okay. Help me with these, would you?”
Harry and Ron loaded their belongings into the trunk of the Dursley’s car. Aunt Petunia, Dudley, and Uncle Vernon were all crammed into the front seat. This had the same effect as cramming a bunch of circus clowns into a Volkswagon. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all loaded into the backseat, and as soon as the doors were closed, Uncle Vernon pealed out of the parking lot towards number four Privet Drive.
After an awkward drive home -- Dudley turning around in his seat every few minutes and looking at Hermione who, after a while, stopped smiling at him every time he turned around and instead looked out the window next to Ron -- they were all three up in Harry’s room.
“Are we brave enough to go down and have a bite to eat, then?” Harry asked his friends. He didn’t think the Dursleys were about to give him any trouble about not eating with them at the regular dinner time. Ron nodded vigorously,
“Yeah, I’m starving!” He and Harry started towards the door, “Coming, Hermione?”
Hermione was rooted to the spot. She was staring back and forth between the window and the door.
“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Ron asked, sounding concerned.
“Harry,” she said in a squeaky voice, “These…people, they put bars on those windows there? And that,” she said , pointing to the cat flap still in place on his door, “that’s how they fed you?” Hermione sounded as though she was simultaneously about to cry and start screaming. She looked positively livid.
“Yeah, it is, but that was a long time ago, Hermione” Harry said soothingly.
“Hermione, we rescued him, remember. These horrible people won’t ever have a chance to do anything like that ever again, ok?” Ron took a tentative step towards her and put both hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him, “Are you gonna be able to get through a couple days here, Hermione?”
Hermione took a breath, as though trying to steady herself, then she put her own hands on top of Ron’s and nodded, “Of course I can. Manners, remember? Not that they have any!”
Ron looked at her curiously until she nodded once more, and he released her. On her way out the door, however, she threw herself on Harry in a huge hug.
“You never have to see them again, Harry. I’m so sorry you went all those years with these…” she cast around for a word to describe the Dursleys, “monsters.”
Harry looked over her head at Ron, who shrugged. Harry patted her on the back, both appreciating her concern, and wanting to stop the flow of pity coming from her.
“Let’s just go eat, ok?”
Hermione pulled away from him and nodded. She looked back at Ron, and he gave her a small nod of encouragement as she walked down the steps first.
When the three of them reached the kitchen, they found the Dursleys sitting at the table, eating dinner.
“Don’t let us interrupt,” Harry said, “We’ll just get a bit of food, then nip back upstairs, out of your way.”
“You could sit down, we don’t mind,” said Dudley, watching Hermione as he said this.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked at Dudley as though he had grown two more heads next to his own singular head which was the size of three heads.
“Duddy-dums, what are you saying?” Aunt Petunia asked.
Uncle Vernon, however saw Dudley’s eyesight follow to Hermione, and he leapt up from the table as if he had suddenly realized that the seat he was sitting his overlarge bottom on was actually a bed of nails. He pointed a pudgy finger at Hermione, who looked stunned.
“You, girl! You put some sort of spell on my Dudley! What did you do?” he was yelling now, his face purple. He had his hands out in front of him as he came nearer to Hermione who, instead of looking frightened, began to look very angry. Uncle Vernon came almost upon her still yelling,
“You slipped some sort of…of magical aphrodisiac into my son’s food!”
Just as he reached for Hermione, and she opened her mouth to say something, Ron stepped in front of Hermione, holding his wand high waving it right in Uncle Vernon’s fat, pudgy face. Ron was wearing an expression of anger such as Harry had seen on his face only when Malfoy insulted his family. He looked capable of murder. Uncle Vernon had stopped short, his small watery eyes fixed on Ron’s wand. Ron had not spoken to Harry’s relatives at all, but he spoke then in a very low voice that shook with fury,
“Don’t you touch her. And don’t you say one more thing to her. She wouldn’t want that horrible fat bully of a boy any more than someone would want a sharp stick in the eye. The only reason she’s been nice to that lump is because she is a better person than any of you can ever hope to be. Stay away from her, and stay away from Harry. You have treated him like a sack of dung since he was left here, and you deserve to rot in Azkaban. Good thing you’re not wizards or I’d curse you right now. As it stands, you are Muggles so I’m giving you a warning. We’re leaving now, but if you come near her once while we’re trying to leave, I will bind your limbs together, and leave you to rot.” With this, Ron stored his wand and said, still looking Uncle Vernon in the eye, “You two get the trunks, I’m going to keep an eye on him.”
Harry looked from Ron to Uncle Vernon and decided that Ron didn’t need his help, so he started out of the room. Hermione had tears in her eyes and she kissed Ron on the cheek before following Harry quickly up the steps.
“I’ve never seen Ron so angry before,” Hermione’s voice was shaky as she spoke, “This is one step up from trying to fight Malfoy. I didn’t know he had the aptitude to keep calm like that and give a warning. I always thought he’d just jump into a fight. IT must be everything that’s happened just sort of…combusted. That’s the only explanation I can think if.”
Harry said nothing. Honestly, he thought that Ron’s reasoning had very little to do with pent up anger and everything to do with the fact that he was defending Hermione when she had been threatened. Harry thought Ron was probably capable of quite a bit when it came to Hermione, but instead he said,
“Yeah, he was brilliant, wasn’t he? I reckon we can catch the Knight Bus now, and be at The Burrow by eleven.”
“Right, should we send Hedwig to Mrs. Weasley? Let her know we’re on our way?” Hermione asked.
“Nah, we’ll get there before she does, it would be pointless.”
“Right, then. I’ve got mine and Ron’s trunks plus Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, let’s go before Ron curses Uncle Vernon and gets himself into real trouble.”
And so Harry came to be sitting at Magnolia Crescent, and after Hermione and Ron got over that moment of over-polite formality that always seemed to follow a show of apparent affection from either of them, they began bickering about the flashlight Harry had stolen from the Dursley’s.
“Should I flag down the bus, then? Harry asked.
A/N: Done! I swear, I really do, the next chapter will be really, really good now that we can get these guys to the Burrow. So keep reading, please!