Harry had no idea what he had just walked into. He’d had a bit of a lie-in that morning, after a terrible night of sleep. His dreams had been punctuated by images of Snape laughing at him, Malfoy sneering at him, and the sound of Professor Dumbledore’s pleas. Around two in the morning, he’d finally resorted to a Dreamless Sleep Potion that Madam Pomfrey had given him. It was now close to noon, and he had been awakened by angry shouts coming from downstairs. He had jumped out of bed and quickly come down to see what was going on. As he’d turned the corner into the hallway beside the stairs, he’d learned what the shouting was all about: Ron had discovered his old cupboard under the stairs.
Ron and Hermione had promised to come and stay with him during the summer. Uncle Vernon had nearly blown the roof off the house when Harry arrived at the front door with two of “those weirdos” in tow, but had given his permission for them to stay for a couple of weeks-- if they promised to stay away from him, his family, the windows, and anything that might give the impression that there was someone in the house other than the very respectable Dursleys and their crazy nephew. They had agreed and resigned themselves to working in Harry’s room as they began their search for the four remaining Horcruxes.
That had been a fortnight ago, and so far things had gone rather smoothly. Hermione was staying with Mrs. Figg at night and coming over around mid-morning during the day. She was able to Floo to Grimmauld Place for needed books and food, since the Dursleys staunchly refused to provide them with anything for their meals. They spent hours in Harry’s rather small bedroom. Avoiding the Dursleys was certainly a better option than attempting to make conversation. Their progress however was slow and by the end of two weeks they were becoming very frustrated.
Harry took in the scene and was absolutely astonished by what he saw. Ron, upon discovering the cupboard under the stairs which had been Harry’s home for almost eleven years, had gone mad. He’d turned a shade of red Harry had never seen before, making his hair seem pale by comparison, and he was shouting some of the coarsest profanity Harry had ever heard-- things he was sure even Sirius would have blushed over, and that most certainly would have had Mrs. Weasley diving for a wand with which to perform a thorough “Scouring Charm” on his mouth.
As Harry watched his friend fire insult after insult at his aunt and uncle, he waited for the inevitable sound of Hermione attempting to scold Ron into silence. He glanced around to see when she would intercede and try to restore order. He was doubtful that anyone could stop Ron at this point, but he knew that if anyone could, it was Hermione.
However, he was shocked to see Hermione, who had just come from behind the door of the old cupboard, looking even redder than Ron. Her eyes bulged as if they were about to explode out of her head, and she had her teeth bared in a snarl.
“How dare you!” she said in a voice that was so icy calm that even Ron stopped shouting and took a step back. This was not the Hermione Harry knew; this was some wild thing that seemed to drip with malice.
“I said, how dare you! How dare you treat another human being like this-- like some animal or slave!” She continued speaking with a calm voice, but it was easy to see the rage in her eyes. She had her wand out and was pointing it at each member of the family in turn. Red sparks were flying from the tip of the wand, causing Dudley to jump every time it was pointed in his direction. “We will be here for a couple more weeks, and if any of you three do a single thing to interfere with the work that Harry, Ron and I have to do, or so much as speak ill of Harry, you will most certainly pay. I am a fully qualified witch, so I can use all the magic I want and don’t you forget it.”
Uncle Vernon was completely at a loss. Ron’s shouting had made him turn a violent purple; shouting was something Vernon Dursley could relate to and handle. He’d been seething with rage, ready to explode at Ron and show him “exactly who is the boss in this house,” when Hermione had walked out of the cupboard. This small girl, whom he could have easily crushed if he wanted to, had managed to put the fear of all things holy in Vernon Dursley. He had gone from violet to ghostly white in seconds. “J-just s-stay away from us,” he stammered.
“We certainly shall, humph,” said Hermione, as she turned on her heel and quickly grabbed both of the now astonished young men and frog-marched them back upstairs.
They entered Harry’s room, and Hermione slammed the door shut behind them, turning her back to both of them. “That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “I didn’t know you had that in you. I mean, I know you have some temper and all, but the way you just shut that blustering old Muggle up down there, wow, that was really something. A bit scary-- you already knew that-- but really incredible.”
“Oh, Ron, please be quiet,” Hermione shouted, as she turned to face them. Harry and Ron were dumbstruck to see that she was crying. Her hands were shaking as if she had just been terribly frightened. Her breathing was ragged, and she seemed to be having great difficulty getting herself back under control. Just as Harry was about to ask if she needed to sit down, she ran at him, throwing her arms around him in a huge hug that Mrs. Weasley would have been proud of. Harry patted her back awkwardly, not really sure how to react.
“Harry, I’m so sorry. If I had known…if we could have done anything…why didn’t you tell anyone?” she sobbed at him, never letting him go.
Harry returned her embrace but said nothing for a time. Ron’s anger was beginning to grow again as he thought of all the time Harry had spent in this godforsaken place. “Yeah, why did you have to come back here all those summers? Why did Dumbledore put you through this torture anyway?”
"It had something to do with Aunt Petunia, and some blood protection that kept me safe while I was here. She’s my mum’s sister and since she is my only blood relative we had a connection. I don’t really understand it myself, but it was what Professor Dumbledore wanted,” Harry said, as tears started to form in his eyes. He had not allowed himself to cry for Dumbledore yet, and this was getting a little too close for him. He disentangled himself from Hermione, who seemed reluctant to let him go, but finally relented and ended her embrace. She sat down at Harry’s desk, conjured a box of tissues and began wiping her eyes. She seemed to have regained some of her composure and looked for a new book to begin working through.
Harry sat on his bed, the events of the last few minutes finally starting to become real to him. He felt drained already, and he had only been awake for a few minutes. “Guys, I am sorry you had to see that. I mean, it was a long time ago that I slept under the stairs and all. I really appreciate you both sticking up for me like that, though.” Harry looked away from his friends as he spoke.
“Harry, you need to know how much we care about you,” Hermione began, lowering the book and staring at him. “I’ve never really told you this, but before I got to Hogwarts, I did not have many friends. In fact, I don’t think I really had any friends.” Ron blanched at this last remark, thinking back to Halloween in their first year. “When I got to know you and Ron, it was the first time in my life that I felt like I belonged to a group. I really care about you, Harry; I guess you are like the little brother I never had or knew that I wanted. It breaks my heart to think of all that you have been through over the years.” By this time tears were again falling down her cheeks.
Harry, for the first time since the funeral, felt happy. He had always known that he and Hermione had a special bond. It was not a physical attraction, although many at school thought it must be. Even in their fourth year at the Yule Ball, when she had looked as beautiful as he had ever seen her, he had looked at her differently than he had looked at the rest of the girls, especially Cho. Harry blushed, remembering how much he’d liked Cho that year, and then the following year. Hermione had never caused the beast inside his chest to go wild or to purr or… Harry stopped that line of thought, knowing that it would lead to Ginny, who was certainly not a person he could safely think about.
No, Hermione was always just-- Hermione. They had a bond, but it was a bond of family. He got off the bed and walked over to the desk where Hermione was sitting. He looked down at her as she sat there wiping yet more tears from her eyes. “I love you, too, sis,” he said before bending over and picking her up in a hug.
This was so uncharacteristic for Harry that Hermione seemed more than a little shocked. “Although we do need to talk about who the big one is,” Harry grinned down at her, a full head taller than she. She kissed him on the cheek and proclaimed, “Well, of course, I am, Harry; I am almost a full year older than you are, and I am fully qualified, and I can Apparate--”
“And I’ve read Hogwarts, A History, and I got ten O.W.L.s, blah, blah, blah,” Ron said as he threw a pillow at his friends. “Have you guys finished gushing all over each other? We have work to do.”
“Ronald Weasley, don’t tell me that you don’t feel exactly the same way about Harry. Oh, wait, I know what it is-- you are just too macho to say anything like that. Oh, no, can’t say anything about how you feel, no matter what,” Hermione shot back, after taking a pillow full in the face.
“Of course not; Harry knows how I feel about him. He’s my best mate. I’ve got plenty of brothers, so he’s certainly not that. I’ve even got a little sibling so he can’t really be that either. That makes him, well, that makes him my best mate, with all that the lofty position entails,” Ron said, lifting his chin proudly in air and puffing his chest out. With that, Ron walked over to Harry and gave him the kind of hug only young male friends can give, awkward and one-armed.
After this very brief show of affection was completed, they all settled down to use the rest of the day to scour some of the books from the old Black family library for more information about Horcruxes and specifically how to destroy them. Just as they got comfortable, Ron looked up, startled.
“Hey, if Harry is like the brother you never wanted or something, then what does that make me?” Ron asked Hermione.
“Well, the boyfriend I never wanted, of ourse. I thought that would have been obvious by now,” she retorted with such candor that both Harry and Ron were stunned silent.
Harry looked at his two best friends with a knowing grin on his face. Just as Ron was about to attempt a reply, there was a soft tapping sound at the window. Harry quickly turned and saw Hedwig waiting patiently on the window sill. Harry got up and went to the window to let in his faithful owl. She swooped into the room and landed on the desk. Hermione gently stroked the bird’s back as Harry took the small piece of parchment from Hedwig’s outstretched leg. He looked at the parchment briefly before stumbling backwards, dropping it, and collapsing on the bed.
Ron moved quickly over to his friend. “What’s the matter, Harry; is it your scar or something?” The tension in Ron’s voice was palpable. Harry just gestured to the note lying on the floor. Immediately, Ron and Hermione both moved to pick up the note and read the message. Written in a very neat and familiar script were the words:
Harry, I will be arriving tonight to pick you and your friends up. Be packed and ready at 8:00 sharp. See you soon.
Sincerely,
A. Dumbledore
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A/N I have to thank my Beta JenC, and prebetas Kerrbear, and Cableguysmom for there help. If not for them this story would be unreadable. Thanks ladies. This chapter is a bit short, future chapters will be longer. Please read and review.