The Girl in the Tower
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Chapter Four: A Hard Day’s Night
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His little room looked even more uninviting than Harry remembered. It was drab, hadn't been painted in years, and was no more than a bad memory. His things looked rummaged through and, no doubt, they had been, although he had no real belongings here. Just some old clothes, which were still too big, and a scattering of junk he’d once cherished. All he needed or cared about was locked in his trunk.
Harry opened the room's only window and placed Hedwig's cage next to it, opening the door for her to stretch her wings after the long journey. "Don't go far, girl. You'll have a letter to carry soon."
Hedwig hooted and flew only into a neighboring tree.
Harry opened his trunk, which he no longer kept under the stairs, and pulled out the little box he'd found on his Hogwarts bed. Inside were a quill, an ample supply of parchment and a note, which he unfolded and re-read.
Dear Harry,
I assume you and Sara will be putting the owls to good use this summer, however, I insist you use this special quill and paper. It is equipped with a spell that will not allow your letters to be read by anyone other than Sara, as we cannot risk an interception.
Enjoy the summer,
Professor Dumbledore
He could hear the Dursleys downstairs, arguing about Harry's return. Dudley wanted his father to put the locks back on Harry's door so they wouldn't have to fear his magic in the night. Vernon felt that Harry was old enough to be on his own, he was almost seventeen, after all. Harry couldn't hear Petunia's words, but her hateful tone reached his ears just fine. Harry had had enough.
He went only halfway down the stairs, just far enough so he could see them and they could hear what he had to say. It was his uncle he spoke to, but he wanted them all to listen. His voice was loud and angry as he addressed them. "Do you think I want to be here? Well I don't but I haven't anywhere else to live. I'd stay at school all year if they'd let me."
Vernon narrowed his eyes in warning.
Harry lowered his voice. "I need a job, Uncle Vernon. I need to save enough money so that, when I leave school next summer, I can get a place of my own. I need to learn to drive a car. I don't ever want to come back here again. If you want the same, then help me."
Vernon's expression did a full reversal. "In that case, Harry, I'll see what I can do for you. I have a friend that hires summer help. I suppose I could give him a call. Driving lessons start tomorrow." His tone was almost pleasant, knowing he would soon be rid of his freakish nephew forever.
"Thank you."
Harry went back to his room. He pulled out the enchanted quill and a bottle of ink, and then sat at his desk to compose his letter.
Dear Sara,
I miss you already. I got here only to find that nothing had changed. There is nothing here that I love. I would rather be back at Hogwarts, with you in your tower.
Uncle Vernon thinks he might be able to get me a job. I hope so, even if it doesn't pay much. At least it will get me out of here. I know you asked me not to work, but how can I not? If I'm going to have any hope of being on my own after next year, I have to arrange everything now. I hope you understand why.
Uncle Vernon has also said he will teach me to drive, which is something I look forward to. I know he’d rather be skinned alive than teach me to drive but I knew the idea of getting rid of me might compel him to agree. I was right.
I've been here less than an hour and already our separation is harder than I thought it would be. I can't stop thinking of you and wishing Dumbledore would change his mind. I guess we both know he won't and I shouldn't remind you of it. It does neither of us any good to dwell on the impossible. I hope you're all right, Sara. It was raining when I left.
I look forward to your letter.
Harry
Hedwig was resting on the sill when Harry rose from his chair. "Take this to Sara," he told the snowy owl. "She'll take care of you until she sends her reply."
Hedwig took the letter and was off in a rush of feathers. After she'd gone Harry was even more lonely, the room all the more empty.
* * *
Aunt Petunia drove him to his first day of work and she wasn't happy about it, not in the least. She threw the lunch she'd prepared at him, which he was surprised to get at all.
She dropped him in front of a large office building. "You'll have to find your own way home. I won't be driving you again." She scowled from the front seat.
Dudley scowled, too, but said nothing.
"Your uncle has instructed Mr. Spaulding to sack you if you're late even once, so I suggest you get yourself in there."
"Yes Aunt Petunia."
She drove off much too quickly and Harry looked, nervous, at the towering building. At least it's not the slaughterhouse, he thought. He wore his school uniform, a plain white shirt and dark pants, minus the robe and sweater, with one of Uncle Vernon's old ties. They were the only proper clothes he had. His wand was concealed in his sock.
* * *
Mr. Spaulding eyed Harry with suspicion but seemed tolerable enough after the Dursleys. He sat behind a large desk, cluttered with files and paperwork, studying Harry with a distrustful leer.
"I understand you're not Oxford material, Potter, but that's all right. You won't need much of a brain for the job you'll be doing." He said this as if to put Harry at ease. "But I want to get one thing straight. I don't want any trouble from you. I don't know what they teach you at the school for criminal boys but I won't have it in my office. Is that clear?”
"Yes, sir."
"I don't usually hire your kind, Harry. I'm doing this as a favor to your uncle. He told me you need money for moving expenses, so I was only too happy to help. You won't make me sorry will you?"
"I won't, sir."
"Good. And I won't tolerate slackers. You're here to work."
"I'll do my best, Mr. Spaulding."
"I certainly hope so. I'd hate to have to tell your uncle you'd been sacked." He handed Harry a stack of paperwork, clipped together. "Now, go fill these out and give them to the receptionist when you're done. Someone will be along to show you to your post."
"Thank you, Mr. Spaulding."
He gave Harry a false smile and Harry went out, his self-confidence at less than best.
* * *
The job he was to do turned out to be better than he thought. Not great, but Harry worked alone in a massive underground room of endless files. It was cool in the basement and he was glad of it. He liked the quiet and the solitude. All Harry had to do was find old files and box them up, load them on a cart and take them down the hall to the mailroom for shipment to another office. Then there were the new files, which he had to open and arrange in a certain order before putting them in their proper places on the shelves. It was simple, and Harry’s pace was quick.
The boxes weighed a ton. After a few hours, loading them onto the cart became strenuous and Harry wished he could use his wand. He worked tirelessly and with enthusiasm right through until lunch.
Harry found he was starving and decided to eat outside. Carrying Uncle Vernon's old lunchbox, he made his way to the back of the building where a few picnic tables were scattered about. He found one out of the sun and nearly tore open the box, having not eaten any breakfast in his rush to leave this morning. What he found shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Plain crackers, unwrapped and broken, and a poorly rinsed out mustard jar filled with water. His spirits sank. Harry dumped it into the nearest trashcan and went for a walk.
He figured he could circle the block a few times and the hunger might go away. It gnawed at his empty stomach, begging for any sort of sustenance. Harry had no money at all he realized as he passed a busy deli and it renewed his desire to make as much as he could. He would have to buy his own lunch, which meant he wouldn't be eating until payday. He would also have to buy some new clothes. His first check was already spent.
He turned the corner and passed several businesses before coming to a stop in front of a market. The sign in the window said Help Wanted. Harry went in.
* * *
The walk home took just over an hour. Aunt Petunia was clearing the supper dishes when Harry went into the kitchen, drenched with sweat from his five mile trek and ravenous.
"We didn't think you were coming. Dinner was served at five-thirty."
"Are there any leftovers?"
She smirked. "I had Dudley toss them to the neighbor's dog. You can have an apple if you'd like."
Harry was incredulous. "Aunt Petunia! I'm starving! I've had nothing to eat since yesterday!"
"I seem to remember handing you a lunch this morning, unless I'm mistaken."
Harry lost his temper. "You call that a lunch?! A few crumbs and some water? They eat better in prison!"
Petunia sneered, her ugly face contorted with disgust at the sight of him. "Then perhaps that's where you belong! You'll watch your tone in this house. And you'll be thankful for our generosity before you and that repulsive owl find yourselves out with the trash."
Harry seethed, but took the apple and sat down at the table with it.
Uncle Vernon bellowed as he entered the room. "What's all this noise about?"
"That boy," Petunia said and tilted her chin at Harry, her hands in a sink full of dishes. "He's so ungrateful. It's sickening the way he just barges in here, complaining about the food he's given."
Vernon cast Harry a warning glance. "There will be no more complaining out of you."
Harry looked at the pitiful apple and sighed. "I didn't mean to, Uncle Vernon. I'm just so hungry."
"Make a sandwich then, but stop pestering your aunt."
Harry leapt from the table and ran to the refrigerator before either of them could change their mind. He took two slices of bread and piled anything he could find onto them.
Petunia glanced over her shoulder. “Don't go cleaning us out."
Harry sat across from Vernon as he devoured the sandwich, chewing as fast as he could without drawing attention. When he was done his uncle looked up from the evening paper.
"Mr. Spaulding called, Harry. He seemed quite pleased with you. He said you were no trouble and that you'd managed a bit more work than the average summer help."
"He did? He said that?"
"It's a good thing. I'd hate to be you if the report was negative." Uncle Vernon raised an eyebrow at Harry, another warning. "You'll do best to keep it up."
"I will! I don't really mind the work. The boxes are heavy but I manage them all right." He turned to his aunt, who was busy putting away dishes. "Aunt Petunia, if it isn't too much trouble, would you mind setting aside a plate for me for awhile?"
She half smiled. "That's better, Harry. I'll see what I can do."
"It's just that I got an evening job and I won't be home until late. I can't afford to buy lunch or dinner until I get paid."
Vernon sat up. "An evening job? I must say, Harry, you are most ambitious this summer. You must really hate it here in our home." Vernon smiled over the paper, as though this thought pleased him a great deal.
Harry had a lot to say to that remark but kept it to himself. It would do no good to get them all riled up again. "There's a market around the corner from the office. Trucks come in around six and they need someone to unload them. It's during the week and they'll let me work until eleven."
"That's excellent, Harry! A good day's work never hurt anyone. Perhaps you'll find it so enjoyable you'll forget about all this other nonsense. Magic tricks." He shook his head. "Now get changed, boy. I won't wait all night. I'll be in the car."
Harry had forgotten all about his driving lessons. He'd just have to do it on the weekends. As for now, he couldn't wait to get behind the wheel!
* * *
Harry slipped into the kitchen before going to bed and grabbed an apple and two cookies, wrapped in a paper napkin. He would save them for lunch the next day, just in case he got prison rations again or nothing at all.
He thought about his first, and rather substantial, three-hour long driving lesson. Uncle Vernon decided that Harry was "a natural," a duck in water, and taught him all he could saying "No reason to drag this out, Harry." Vernon also said he'd pick up some literature on road rules that Harry could read in his spare time and then they would go out again over the weekend.
Harry was more exhausted than he'd been in a long time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so tired. His muscles ached all over. His back was painfully sore and all he wanted to do was go to sleep.
There was a brown barn owl on the back of his desk chair when he went into his room, a letter on the desktop. “Captain” was all it said in long, slanted script. Harry's heart leapt and he smiled. He carried the owl to Hedwig's cage and it climbed onto the perch.
Harry sat on his bed with the letter, restraining himself from tearing it open. He couldn't wait to read her words.
Dear Harry,
Hedwig arrived this morning and we had some toast together. She's just fine, but anxious. I think she wants to get back to you but I decided she should rest before the trip. I will send her back with my next letter.
I wrote to you a short time after you left but decided not to send it. Too sappy and depressing. Severus had come to visit and I couldn't take his biting remarks anymore. I was a bit short-tempered with him but I believe he'll think more about what he says. (For a while, anyway.) Sometimes I think you're right about him but I've seen a different side, too.
I'm glad to hear your uncle was willing to help with the job. I'll say again that you don't have to work. I wish you would trust me, Harry. Spend the money you earn if you just want to get out of the house. Don't let them get you down. It's only for the summer and then you can say goodbye to them for good. You'll never have to see them again.
Now that the students have gone home I am allowed to walk freely about the castle and I get to eat meals with Uncle Albus and Hagrid. (Can you believe they sit alone in that enormous dining hall?) Filch is still here, too, but he sleeps most of the day, which I am glad of. The man is a little frightening sometimes.
I am allowed outside and spend most of my time wandering the grounds. I can't remember the last time I felt grass under my feet! Today I went to the edge of the Forest and visited with a unicorn. It was amazing! All I did was sing this song my mother taught me that's supposed to bring them and it worked! It was so refreshing to be out in the sunshine and in the presence of such magnificent beauty. It helped my spirit immeasurably.
I got an owl from Ron today, (such a pathetic little bird that is,) and he sent some cookies his mother made. He said he's also gotten a job, helping his father at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, which he'll start tomorrow. His twin brothers are planning to expand their joke shop in Diagon Alley and he's helping them raise the money. It's so nice of him. He even gave up the chance to go to Romania.
Hermione also wrote and sent me some magazines. She bought a blank book and plans to fill it with her favorite spells, charms and potions. I showed her my mother's during the first lunch we had together and she's been fired up about it ever since.
It's hard to believe the three of you have only been gone for two days! Already it seems like forever. I don't have much to do here except write letters, wander around and bother Uncle Albus. Hagrid has invited me to his cabin later to feed the blast-ended skrewts and I can't even tell you how I'm looking forward to it.
Perhaps I should make a book, like Hermione. I know a lot of good spells and I can gather more in the library. It would keep me busy for a while. But now, I must go to dinner.
I miss you, Harry. I slept in your shirt last night and woke up at dawn, only to find you weren't there. There's an emptiness, a void, and it's hard to bear but I'll get through the days, and the nights, because you asked me to.
Sara
Harry wanted to sleep but got Dumbledore's box of paper anyway. It would have to be short. It was almost eleven and he'd have to get up early if he was to walk five miles and be at his post on time. He dipped the quill in the ink.
Dear Sara,
It's great that you can leave your tower! And it's easier for me to think of you shoeless on the grass, singing to unicorns, rather than drinking endless glasses of wine, apart from all the world. It's a happier image and quite a relief for me. Hagrid is good company but I can't say as much for the skrewts.
I think your spell book is a good idea and I'm glad Hermione's making one. She knows millions of spells. She seems to remember every word she reads. It will end up being about ten volumes long, if I know her.
I had my first driving lesson today and I did rather well. I can't park yet, and backing up was a bit rough, but I could handle the steering and work the peddles just fine. It won't be long until I can get my driver's license and next year we'll go for a ride to the coast together. I picture myself in a rusty old clunker with mismatched doors and a broken muffler, spewing stinky gray exhaust out the tailpipe. I know you deserve better and, someday, I will get it for you, even if I have to work eight days a week and sleep only on my lunch hour.
My job is all right. My new boss told Uncle Vernon I was doing well and that makes me happy. All I have to do is box old files and put the new ones on the shelves. It's not rocket science but I'm finally making money. On Friday, I shall receive the first Muggle pound I've ever had! I can only hope you're proud of me.
I'm sorry this is so short. It's late and I have to get up before dawn but I wanted you to know how much I miss you. I think of you all the time, wondering how you are and if you're as lonely as I am. The past two days have seemed like ages, but I'll get through each one to come just by knowing that you're there, thinking of me, too.
Harry
As Harry was folding the letter, another owl flew in through the window carrying a package, which it dropped in Harry's lap. It landed on the chair and Harry carried it to Hedwig's cage. The barn owl Sara had sent seemed perturbed by the new owl's presence and hooted in protest.
"Well it's not your cage, either!"
He hurried back to the package, yawning while he unwrapped it, not recognizing the scratchy handwriting on the outside. He smiled as soon as he saw it was from Colin Creevey. The pictures from the Quidditch Cup! At once, he felt more awake and flipped through them, searching for one of himself. There was one he liked a great deal. One the team had posed for. He and Ron holding the cup between them with Fred and George behind it, each with an arm around the two female Chasers, Regina and Molly. Liam Seever lounged on the ground in front, his head propped on one hand, Harry's Firebolt in the other. They were all smiling, elated, and it made him happy just to look at it. Harry longed to be back at Hogwarts. And he longed to ride his Firebolt again.
Harry propped the picture against his lamp, deciding to have it enlarged when he had some money, and went back to the others. He found the one he wanted near the bottom and pulled it out. Colin, who used a Muggle camera, had insisted he take a shot of the Team Captain alone and had made him pose with his broom in one hand and the Quidditch Cup under his arm. Harry remembered feeling rather foolish but Colin was more talented than he'd thought. The picture was great! Colin kept insisting Harry smile but he hadn't felt natural and Colin knew. He didn't take the picture until Ron stood off to the side and made faces until he’d laughed. Sara would love it, so he enclosed it with her letter.
Harry put the rest of the pictures into his backpack, along with the box from Dumbledore, some old clothes and the little bit of food he'd taken from the kitchen. He made sure his alarm was set for six a.m. before getting into bed and looked at his winning team one more time before turning out the light.
* * *
Friday came quicker than Harry expected, having been working from eight to five at the office and then six to eleven at the market, which had turned out to be back-breaking labor. He preferred his evening job, though. He liked the other employees and the fact that he didn't have to say he went to a school for criminals. He usually worked with three or four other people so he rarely got an opportunity to use his wand instead of his muscles. The exhaustion he felt after his long walk home was sometimes overwhelming.
Harry spent his lunch hours at the office writing to Sara. Otherwise, his letters would have been a few tired lines at best and he knew she awaited his owls. He didn't want to leave her disappointed. Besides, the lunches he got from Aunt Petunia only took a moment to eat, so he didn't bother going out to the tables behind the building. There were no more crackers, but a cheese or peanut butter sandwich, an apple and a thermos of water. It still left him hungry but it was better than nothing. Come Monday, he thought with a smile, he would buy his lunch at the little deli across the street. After that, he would buy some supplies and fix his own lunches at home. And he had to eat dinner between jobs. He could no longer suffer through until he got the child's portions Aunt Petunia left for him in the oven.
Harry fell onto his bed at twelve-thirty, too pleased with himself to sleep. There were letters from everyone on the desk and the tree outside was full of owls. Ron, Hermione, Hagrid and Sara had written. He wouldn't answer any of them tonight, though, except one. He was excited to write to Sara, since he hadn't at work, and tell her all about his day. But first, he would read her letter.
Dear Harry,
Congratulations! Happy Payday! How does that Muggle money feel in your pocket? I can't believe you actually wondered if I would be proud of you. Harry, I would be proud of you no matter what. How could I possibly love you more?
Make sure you spend some of that money on yourself. You deserve it after all. My father worked on Wall Street in New York and he said office jobs were terribly mundane. (He always wanted to do something different but never got the chance.) I hope you're not wasting your evenings. You should get out and do things. Go to see some movies at least. You never mention what you do after work.
As for me, things have taken a turn. Uncle Albus found out I was visiting the unicorns and strictly forbid me to go anywhere near the forest. He says dark things lurk there. Well, they do but so do beautiful things! I cried for hours afterward and wouldn't speak to him at dinner. I think I upset him and I feel terrible but he doesn't understand. He's trying to protect me but he's hurting me, too.
Harry, he took my bottle of Riesling. What does he expect me to do? The castle was fun to explore but it's mostly empty rooms! Though released from my tower, I'm still so alone. Even the Marauder's Map is boring, the same three names going who cares where. I used to look at it for hours, following names from place to place. I actually think I liked it better before. True, I could only leave the tower for short periods of time, but at least there was some life in the castle. I guess that's what happens when a thousand people leave a place. There's simply nothing left but ghosts. The days here are centuries long and the nights; well, they're just empty.
I still sleep in your shirt and am so glad you let me keep it. I feel so close to you while I wear it. It's one of the few things that bring me comfort. I look at your picture every night and miss you even more. I can't wait to see you again.
Love,
Sara
Harry sighed. Her letter had started out so well, only to end with desperation. He was glad Dumbledore had taken her bottle of wine, Harry hated the way she drank away her misery and thought it best for her. But why forbid her to see the unicorns? She wasn't going in the forest, only standing on the edge of it as every Hogwarts student had done at least once. He himself had been sent into the trees when Voldemort was a threat to him, (and he'd encountered him there,) but Dumbledore hadn't forbidden that! Something wasn't making sense. Sara had promised to tell him about the hooded figure that came in the night so he was sure she had. Obviously, someone knew she was there. Someone Dark and threatening enough to cause pain in his scar. Why worry about the forest? After all, Sara could handle herself if trouble came about, just as she'd handled Malfoy.
Harry took out his enchanted quill and wrote his reply.
Sara,
I'm sorry about the unicorns. I know you love them and it makes no sense to keep you from them. I’d think Dumbledore would permit you anything that could lift your spirits the way they do. After all, he let me visit your tower for that very reason. There must be something he's not telling us. I doubt he would refuse you happiness without reason. Don't be too hard on him.
You couldn't have explored the entire castle in just over a week! Keep looking! Also, spend as much time as you can in the library. Work on compiling spells for your book; it will fill some of the hours. Spend your time, Sara. Don't waste it. You're more or less stuck there so you might as well make the most of it.
Today, on my lunch hour, I went to the bank near the office and opened an account. I'm so thrilled! I've got money saved already! I kept a little for myself but it's the savings that make me happiest and I look forward to next Friday with even greater enthusiasm.
I'm tired now and have three letters to read before I can sleep. I don't have to work tomorrow, so I will write you a longer letter then and tell you all about my second driving lesson. (I've studied the book on road rules all week and I think I know it verbatim. It won't be long!) It doesn't really matter if it takes all summer. I won't have a car to drive until next year anyway. It's just that I'm excited about it.
Keep your chin up, Sara. We'll be together soon. I miss you as always.
Harry
Harry gave the letter to Hedwig, along with a tiny gold bracelet he'd found in a boutique. There were a few little purple gemstones on it and Sara loved purple. He’d thought of her the moment he saw it, walking past between jobs. He’d taken most of the money for it from his food allowance but he'd wanted to give her something nice, something special to cheer her up. Being denied unicorns had to be a terrible loss for Sara and Harry could only imagine how deeply it had affected her. He wanted to rescue her from such loneliness, take her out of the castle and back into the world where she longed to be. He would have to settle for making her smile.
Harry went to the window, inhaling a strong breeze, having just drifted into his room. There was a scent that drew an easy smile on his face and he closed his eyes, resting his elbows on the sill. Her perfume on the wind, an ancient Gypsy infusion, rich with spices. Ginger, sandalwood, and something light and airy. It was the essence of everything Sara.
He could hear something. It was faint and far away but he could just make it out. Her voice, carried on the wind. She was singing.
* * *
Harry awoke from a seamless, heavy night of sleep. It was a dreamless sleep, like that of the dead, and he felt refreshed. He wasn't surprised to see it was noon, especially since he hadn't gone to bed until two in the morning. What he couldn't believe was that the Dursleys hadn't tried to get him up. Or maybe they had?
One of the school's owls was on the back of his chair when he sat up and Harry jumped out of bed at the sight of it. Sara always sent her owls just before dinner, so it must be something important for her to write again so soon. He broke the seal with care and dropped back onto the bed with the letter.
Dear Harry,
Thank you for the bracelet. It's beautiful and I love amethysts. I'll wear it everyday, of course. You shouldn't be spending your money on me, though. (Have you even gotten yourself anything yet?) I was so surprised when I opened it. I couldn't stop smiling and kept looking at it. You really managed to brighten the evening, especially one as horrible as last night.
Uncle Albus has really gone too far. I cried all night and through breakfast. I can look out and see Hagrid going about his chores in the rain and I feel terrible but I can't seem to stop. Harry, my last and most important freedom has been stripped from me. The thing that made it all bearable. How does he expect me to sleep? I need fresh air to drift into my room at night, I always have! He made me close the doors. He even put a spell on them not to open until dawn! I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm suffocating.
Last night I wedged open one of the windows in the music parlor and slept on the piano. I will keep this window open at all times, so instruct Hedwig to bring your next letter there. It's where I'll be.
Harry, I never told Uncle Albus about the hooded figure. I promised you I would and I'm sorry but, in the end, I couldn't do it. It was because I was afraid of this very thing!
I'm losing it, really. I don't know how much longer I can stay here. Not like this. Something has to change or I'll lose my mind. I think you are probably the only thing that keeps me sane.
Love,
Sara
Harry sighed. What was he to do? And what was Dumbledore keeping from her? He got out his quill.
Dear Sara,
I think Dumbledore found out about the stranger. It's the only logical explanation. I know you're upset but he's right. I've hated the fact that you left the doors open with such a threat lurking just outside. If it fears me and not the teachers then closing the doors is more important than ever. I can't protect you at all from here.
Try to remember that Dumbledore only wants to keep you from harm and from having to display your power, confirming what Voldemort already believes to be true. You have to hang in there. It won't be long.
I can't write much now. I'm hungry and if I miss lunch then Aunt Petunia won't let me have anything else. I'd have to walk to the deli near where I work to get a sandwich and my feet can't stand the thought. I think I'll stick around here today and work on my own spell book. After a little thought, I decided we should all make one, if we can convince Ron that is. They would be ka-tet, like the four of us. You never know, great wizards like us could be the legends of the future! Well, maybe.
I think we need to employ more owls. I also wish we could use floo powder so we could visit each other but, as it turns out, neither one of us can. My house isn't on the circuit and Hogwarts is blocked. Apparating would be nice if either of us could manage it but the school is protected from that as well. Believe me, I've thought of everything, including riding my broom and that insane bus that picked me up once. Simply nothing is doable.
I will write to you again later, after I have eaten and had my driving lesson. Don't be mad at me for siding with Dumbledore. I think he's probably the wisest person alive. I would do whatever he asked and so should you. He only wants to keep you from harm and I do as well. For all the same reasons.
I miss you.
Love, Harry
* * *
Sara's letters changed over the next three weeks. They grew more distressed, and Harry was starting to worry about her. She no longer sounded like herself. She was going mad with boredom, her owls ranting and incredibly long. She was no longer allowed to sleep in her tower or even go there after dark and many of her belongings had been moved to a large, square chamber with no windows and one heavy door. She was not allowed to wander the castle alone and was to remain in the new room after Dumbledore retired for the night.
Harry got the idea that something had happened, probably the night Dumbledore closed the doors to the roof, through slips she made when she wrote frantically. He always knew when this was because her usually neat, flowing script became run-on sentences and misspelled words in quick, messy hand. Ron and Hermione sent owls, insisting he do something. He had written to Dumbledore several times with concerns about Sara's state of mind and had asked extensively about the reasons behind her lack of fresh air, which Harry knew was her biggest problem. She was claustrophobic, he'd explained to Dumbledore, who wouldn't give a precise answer.
Harry sat on his bed, holding her most recent letter, only just arrived with Hedwig. It was light, not one of the long, rambling ones, and Harry wondered if that was good or bad news. He was almost afraid to open it. Finally, he did.
Dear Harry,
I know you're going to be upset with me but I'm leaving Hogwarts the second the spell wears off the door at daybreak. I can't stay here another moment if I am to remain of sound mind. He keeps me prisoner in here and my room is a cell with stale, dead air and no sky to speak of. All I do is read books, which I am thankful for, and pace the floor.
To make matters worse, Uncle Albus has written to Severus, asking him to return at once. If I don't get out of here before he arrives, I won't stand a chance. He's to sleep in the room across the hall.
I will contact you soon but you may not hear from me for a day or two, so don't worry. I can protect myself just fine if I have to. I think you know that. I will see you soon.
Love, Sara
Harry read the note three times, wondering what he should do. It was morning. Sara would have left hours ago. How far could she have gotten since dawn? Questions raced through his head but there were no answers. All he could do was wait for some word from her.
He folded the letter and went down for a quick lunch. He had two lawns to mow today as well as flowers to plant, three trees to prune, mulch to lay and a garden to weed. Then he had to paint a fence in the afternoon. It was a lot to get done but he didn't mind as long as he was outside and not with the Dursleys. Plus the extra money allowed him to get some much-needed clothes. He didn't want to look so drab next to Sara and Hermione when he went back to school. Most of what he had was being ruined at the market and in the neighbors’ yards.
Mr. Spaulding at the office had given him a raise. He'd even gone so far as to say that Vernon had misjudged Harry, criminal or not. He'd called him intelligent and a good, hard worker. Harry had never been so proud of himself, not even after winning the Quidditch cup! Impressing this man, who believed Harry to be of a terrible sort, was nothing short of amazing with his reputation as 'tarnished' as it was. Uncle Vernon was still angry with him for 'making him look bad' but Harry didn't care what he thought anymore. Harry was now a licensed driver. All he had left to accomplish was making as much money as possible so he would never have to see their faces, or endure their constant humiliation, again.
He had socked away a good amount of money so far. All of his office check and all of his pay from the market, minus whatever he spent on food during the week. He had learned how to spend only a small amount of money eating. Harry bought his dinner at the market’s hot counter between jobs and ate in the break room. He packed his own lunches at home to avoid the deli, as much as he liked it. He was beginning to relax, knowing it would be possible to, over the course of this one summer, save a sum substantial enough to put him at ease.
Harry wasn't at ease now, though. He thought of Sara all day as he went about his work and couldn't sleep that night, wondering if she was safe in the dark, wherever she was. He'd sent Hedwig with letters for Ron and Hermione, filling them in and asking if they'd gotten any owls from her. If they did, he asked that they send him a message at once.
Harry had to work in the morning, but he worried long into the night, imagining he could smell her perfume on the night breeze.
* * *
Three days passed without a word.
Not from anyone.
Then Hermione called.
Dudley had given her the number at the market, no doubt with the hopes of getting him in trouble, and she'd called him there. She grilled him about having yet another job, and he admitted to only working a few nights a week but Dudley had already told her everything. She seemed concerned, so he said he just needed to stay out of the house. This she accepted, knowing his history with the Dursleys.
Hermione said she'd heard from Sara and that she was fine. Harry had bombarded her with rapid-fire questions but she either wouldn't answer or didn't know. What she'd called for, as it turned out, was to invite him for a weekend with Ron.
They would be picking him up Friday at six, which meant he had to get the night off and hurry home if he had any hopes of showering before they arrived. He'd left a note on the manager's desk and planned to call a taxi from the office that day. He couldn't wait to see them. He'd been so busy he'd barely even written to his friends all summer. What little time he did find usually went to Sara.
* * *
The days crawled by.
Every hour at work seemed like a week. The only time that seemed to fly was the few hours Harry spent asleep. He was exited to see Ron and Hermione but he missed Sara and her letters, always addressed to Captain. And he missed writing to her. He no longer had anyone to which he could describe his day or vent his frustrations. Even Hedwig seemed depressed and restless.
Finally, Friday arrived and Harry suffered through the long, long, day.
He found the taxi waiting to take him back to the Dursleys’ and showered as fast as he could manage. The Dursleys waited, curious, at the windows while Harry was still in his room, packing. He brought most of his new clothes, though he wouldn't need them all, and a few other miscellaneous items. He was glad he'd bought a new backpack so he wouldn't have to be seen with Dudley's old one, full of holes and stained. He made sure he had his credit card, which Uncle Vernon had advised him to get, (but not use,) and enough cash to get him through the weekend.
The doorbell rang and Harry bounded down the stairs, not wanting to subject his friends to Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or worse, Dudley.
They beat him to it, getting to the door as he was still half a flight up.
"We're here for Harry," he heard Hermione say. He couldn't see her, though, because the Dursleys were all crowded in the doorway, blocking his view.
"Wow," Dudley whispered, staring out from behind his parents.
Harry was at his side, trying to squeeze through. Dudley wouldn't budge. He was enrapt, fascinated, and Harry wondered what new beauty spells Hermione might have found.
Aunt Petunia was asking her questions and Hermione was being polite, more so than usual, and Harry was thankful. He wanted the Dursleys to be nice to his friends.
Harry yelled through the barricade of shoulders. "Hermione!"
"Harry! Come out! I've got a surprise for you!"
The Dursleys had to move at this point, as they could no longer pretend he wasn't behind them.
Uncle Vernon stepped back at last. "Harry! You've got visitors!"
Dudley stayed where he was but Harry squeezed through - and there was Sara, smiling on the step.
Harry dropped his backpack and threw his arms around her.
Sara laughed and clung to him and then pulled away to give him a quick, discrete kiss.
Harry smiled with his entire being and stood looking at her, holding her hand in his.
"Harry! Uncle Albus let me go!"
"That's great! But how? I mean, I thought you left?"
"I tried to but Severus intercepted me. He'd arrived during the night. I barely got out the front door."
"So he took you to Dumbledore?"
"I told him I was leaving, with or without his help or permission."
"You really said that? To him?"
"I wasn't going back to that room," she said and lowered her eyes. "Something had to change. I'm missing out on my life."
"That's what I was trying to explain to him."
Sara gave him a sweet smile. "He told me you’d been sending him owls." Sara wore a conservative white dress with a pink rose print. Her pretty blond curls were pulled back in a ponytail that swung and bounced as she talked. "I'm staying with Hermione but I have to be back Sunday night. I'll return on the train with Severus."
Vernon cleared his throat. "Now Harry, aren't you going to introduce your friends?"
Harry knew they didn't care who his friends were, they were only curious about Sara. "Uh, well, yeah, sure. You remember Ron Weasley, of course, and this is Hermione Granger." Ron waved from where he was and Hermione said it was a pleasure, though her tone was rather dry and her smile forced. "And this is my girlfriend, Sara Lemke.”
Dudley whispered from behind his parents. "Girlfriend!?"
Sara smiled and shook hands. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Dursley, Mr. Dursley."
Ron moved in for a closer look. "Harry? You really don't look so good, mate. Have you been ill?"
"No."
Hermione tipped her head as she considered Harry’s appearance. "You're right, Ron. He does look a little gaunt. You're thinner, and Harry, you've got dark circles under your eyes."
Vernon answered before Harry could come up with an excuse. "Well, he's been working fourteen hours a day! He leaves just after sun-up and doesn't drag himself in until after midnight. He's a gardener on the weekends. It's almost as if he doesn't even live here!" Vernon smiled at this last.
"Fourteen hours?! What the bloody hell are you doing all that for?"
"I just wanted to save some money. That's all."
Sara touched his arm and whispered. "Harry, I didn't know at what point I should tell you this but I have money. You don't have to work. Ever."
"It doesn't matter. I need to have my own."
"We’ll discuss it later.”
Harry glanced at the ground and then smiled at her.
Vernon turned his deliberate gaze on Harry and Sara's intertwined fingers. "Now, I want to know what sort of supervision there's going to be on this trip."
Petunia put a hand on her hip. "Yes, where will you be staying? And what sort of sleeping arrangements are there?"
Sara took a step forward to address their questions. It was clear to her friends she'd taken offense to their insinuations.
"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, when we arrive in London we'll be staying at The Leaky Cauldron, which is one of our places. We have rooms reserved there."
Vernon and his wife tried to stare her down. "And where, exactly, is this leaking whatever?"
"You wouldn't be able to find it, even if we gave you an exact map. You would never see it."
Not wanting to have that sort of conversation in view of the neighbors, Petunia narrowed her eyes at Sara and lowered her voice. "And I suppose you expect us to believe that you'll be sharing a room with the other young lady?"
Sara's tone was growing angry, though she still offered them a pleasant smile. "Believe it or not, Mrs. Dursley, magic doesn't mean lawless. Hermione and I will be sharing a room, as will Harry and Ron, and Professor Snape, our chaperone, will occupy the room between us. Besides, my uncle, Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin and Headmaster of Hogwarts, who arranged this trip for us, told me Harry was honorable and that he had the utmost confidence in him. It's a shame you don't seem to share his views."
Harry felt he should say something to get Sara to stop glaring at his Aunt Petunia. The black streak in her hair had faded to one thin lock but he could see a few crimson strands sprinkled in and more appeared every second. He went to her side and put a reassuring hand on the small of her back. "Professor Snape hates me."
Aunt Petunia muttered. "Who wouldn't."
Ron came onto the step and rolled his eyes. "He hates all of us, except Sara. He seems quite fond of her."
Harry, Hermione and Sara burst into laughter.
Ron grinned. "I suppose it is rather silly, thinking Snape fond of anyone."
Sara glanced at her watch. "Speaking of Severus, we'd best be off. I'd hate to worry him unnecessarily."
Harry chuckled. "Hard to imagine, Snape worrying."
Ron snickered. "Well, I'll bet he's not very nice if you've made him worry. We probably should get on our way."
Harry grabbed his overstuffed backpack off the step and turned to leave. He stopped after only half a step. "Where did you get that? How? Whose is it?"
Sara grinned. "I rented it. It's supposed to be a nice weekend. I thought we'd enjoy having the top down."
Harry smiled wide. It was thrilling enough to be going on a weekend trip with his friends and that Sara was with them but they were going in a luxury Mercedes convertible, red, with chrome wheels and leather seats. The sort of car most people dream about but never get to experience firsthand. He was even more elated when Sara tossed him the keys.
"Are you serious?"
Sara grinned again as she made her way to the passenger door where Hermione and Ron were climbing in. "Let's go, Harry!"
Harry threw his bag into the boot, which was overloaded, and hurried over to help Sara into the car. She gave him another quick hug and slid into the seat, holding onto his hand. Harry closed the door for her and turned to wave to the Dursleys, who had ventured onto the step. Dudley still appeared awestruck. Harry held up the keys to the car and mouthed the words thank you to his uncle, who gave a brief, uncomfortable nod.
Harry slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, loving the feel of the expensive leather. He looked at Sara, who smiled at him from the passenger side. "You know, this is the first time I've ever seen you in shoes."
* * *
The Girl in the Tower by SpookyMulder
Chapter Notes: "A Hard Day's Night" was, of course, borrowed from the Beatles' song/movie of the same name.