Summary: Harry Potter is having a horrible summer after his sixth year at Hogwarts. If only the Dursleys were the whole problem – he’s also facing a long, hard journey with no clue how to do it. And to top it off, he just left his girlfriend. But when Harry purchases a magical trunk, things get a lot more interesting…
Rating: PG
Categories: Harry's Magical Trunk Challenge (2007-3)
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2007.06.23
Updated: 2007.06.23
Index
Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Quidditch Wallpaper
Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Tests at the Dursleys'
Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Tests at the Weasleys'
Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Tests at Grimmauld Place
Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Quidditch Wallpaper
Author's Notes: I have no clue why I entered this challenge. I knew that I would have no time to write -- first it was exams, projects, and end of the school year stuff, then I left on vacation for a week, and now I'm going to sleepaway camp for the rest of June. As a result, I don't really think this is quite my best work... sorry.
An enourmous thank-you goes to Erik (Victor Aagaard on SIYE), my superb beta. Knowing that I'm leaving on Sunday, he beta-ed the last part of this right when i sent it to him -- past midnight on Friday. Thanks so much! Also credit to www.hp-lexicon.org.
In the ordinary town of Little Whinging, on an ordinary block of an ordinary street called Privet Drive, was an ordinary house whose inhabitants were, for the most part, as ordinary as it gets.
But perhaps this house was not quite as ordinary as it seemed. For one thing, it was the only house on the entire street which still had a window lit at this late hour of the night. Just one, up in the corner on the side of the house, but it was still there, casting a glowing yellow square onto the freshly trimmed grass below. And in that window, staring out at the street below with an excited look on his face, was a young man who can only be described as extraordinary.
Harry Potter — for that was the young man’s name — was about to embark on a journey that could be nothing but dangerous and arduous, but he was almost happy to going. Living with his aunt and uncle for the past few weeks had been torture, and Harry was so ready to leave.
His day had started out exactly wrong. He had been rudely shaken awake at ten o’clock in the morning by his Aunt Petunia, who claimed that it was Harry’s fault that the milk had gone sour because Harry had not added fresh milk to the shopping list.
Grumbling sleepily, Harry had dressed and followed his aunt down to the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the bedroom next to his where his cousin Dudley was emitting loud snores.
Usually Harry was up by seven, but just this once, he wouldn’t have minded a lie-in. After all, he had been up past midnight the night before at the wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour — now Fleur Weasley, Harry supposed. The wedding had been a sumptuous affair, filled with gold ribbons and bows and delicate pink roses from the Weasleys’ own garden.
But most glorious of all, in Harry’s eyes, was the older of the two bridesmaids attending Fleur: Ginny Weasley. She had been dressed in a gorgeous gold, floaty something, but Harry hadn’t paid much attention to her dress. Rather, his mind had been on what the dress didn’t cover, which was quite a bit.
And Harry’s eyes were constantly drawn to Ginny’s face, to her sparkling, warm, brown eyes that always seemed to be looking in the opposite direction. Harry scowled at the memory. Ginny’s eyes had been, more often than not, on a gallant French cousin of Fleur’s — Pierre. With his polished manners and charming lines, Harry wouldn’t be surprised if Ginny really had fallen for the young Frenchman.
Harry tried to shove away the anger and jealousy that flooded his head in a torrent of hurt feelings. After all, it was for the best if Ginny had found a new boyfriend. They had officially broken up at Dumbledore’s funeral, hadn’t they? And she would be safer this way — Voldemort wouldn’t go after Ginny if he thought that she meant nothing to Harry. Yes, it was a very good thing that Ginny really didn’t like Harry anymore.
The memories still hurt all the same.
His morning had continued in a blur of difficult chores and taunts from Dudley. The only thing that kept him going was the promise of the afternoon. Every day this summer, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had come by to visit. They had promised not to leave him alone, and they had been quite true to their word. Sometimes their visits hurt — Ron and Hermione had just started dating, and it was painful for Harry to see them so obviously happy when Harry had broken up with Ginny — but, on the whole, Harry was very glad to have his two best friends with him.
But that day, their visit had brought nothing but more bad news.
After Dumbledore’s funeral, Harry had decided not to return to Hogwarts for his seventh year. Instead, he would hunt the remaining Horcruxes as Dumbledore had wanted. Ron and Hermione, showing amazing but not entirely unexpected loyalty, had promised to go with him.
Now, a few weeks later, Harry was immensely glad that he would not be alone on what promised to be a long and dangerous journey. He wouldn’t have traded their loyalty and support for anything, but… their company would add complications, as today had proved.
Just as they had agreed, Hermione and Ron had gone together to Mrs. Weasley, Ron’s mother, and broached the subject of missing school to accompany Harry on a dangerous quest. They carefully explained how crucial it was to the war effort, and how much Harry valued the additions they would bring to the mission. How it was what Dumbledore wanted Harry to do, and how they could never leave Harry to do so much all by himself. How the task was unpleasant but necessary, and how Harry was really the only one for the job… just not by himself.
Mrs. Weasley had listen patiently until they were through, then exploded. To hear Ron tell it, the roof had blown off the Burrow with her shouting, and Hermione didn’t do anything to deny it. Harry had winced as they recounted the story. She had called them everything from ridiculous to downright crazed, and even irresponsible, when they were being quite the opposite. She had argued about Harry’s sanity right along with Ron’s. “He might be of age, but he can’t just go sauntering off wherever he pleases! He’s still just a boy at heart! You’re all still my babies, no matter what age you are!” And with that, Mrs. Weasley had burst into angry tears.
Harry had winced, and tried to apologise for asking them to help, but his friends would have none of it.
“You didn’t ask us, we want to. And this doesn’t mean that we’re quitting on you, or that we’re angry,” Ron had reassured him.
“No, it just means that we’ll have to make our plans better,” said Hermione. With a careful glance at Ron, she added, “and maybe we’ll have to do this without permission.”
“But do it we will. Harry, this Horcrux hunt is more important than anything else, and we’re staying with you, all the way.”
Harry had smiled gratefully. “Thanks. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
Ron had shrugged, embarrassed, then said, “So, when are we leaving?”
Harry sighed. “Well, your mum’s disapproval sort of puts a crimp in our plans, doesn’t it? We obviously can’t use the Burrow as a place to store resources, or to go if we get hurt, the way we planned.”
Hermione sighed, too. “What we really need is something that we could take along with us, wherever the hunt goes. Apparating over long distances would have been difficult. And we’ll have research, and materials and things. Surely we need some way to carry it all with us?”
Harry shrugged. “I guess we could just play it by ear — we could shrink things to carry with us, and stay in hotels or something.”
Hermione frowned. “It’s always best to have a plan, Harry. What if we… no, wait, how about… oh, never mind… well…”
Ron rolled his eyes. “You two are thinking too hard. I think we need a lunch break. Your Muggles got any food, Harry?”
“I probably shouldn’t take any. And besides, they’d freak at the sight of you.” He sighed. “I’m getting really sick of this place — how about we go to Diagon Alley, and get some lunch there? The Order’ll never know as long as I’m back before dark.”
Ron agreed instantly, but Hermione had hesitated, unsure. Lying, even indirectly, to the Order of the Phoenix went against all her principles. And of the three, she was the least comfortable with her ‘adult’ status in the wizarding world. Traveling through Muggle London with just two friends might not be safe…
“C’mon, Hermione, we can also stop in Flourish and Blotts. They’ll probably have some useful books on defensive spells or obscure objects…”
That decided her. “Alright. We can take the subway, I think I have enough for the fares, and--”
“Hermione!” said Ron, exasperated. “You’ve got an Apparating license!”
“Oh. Right.” She blushed. “Then let’s Apparate to the Leaky Cauldron.”
And with that, she disappeared to the little pub, Harry and Ron following close behind.
“So, where to next?” asked Ron as he pushed open the door of Flourish and Blotts and stepped out into the sunlight.
They had just finished a delicious lunch in the Leaky Caldron and followed Hermione into the bookstore. After almost an hour spent browsing through the shelves, they were ready to move on. Now both Hermione and Harry were weighed down with several bags of books, both antique and recent, filled with defensive spells and information about the four founders of Hogwarts. Even Ron had found a book on the applications of chess in the real world that looked interesting.
“Well,” said Harry, thinking out loud. “We don’t really have any more errands to do, so perhaps we could visit Fred and George’s shop?”
“Yeah! That’d be great!” agreed Ron enthusiastically.
The twins were, as ever, delighted to see Harry. The greeted Hermione warmly, and gave Ron a friendly punch on the shoulder.
When Harry asked what new products they were developing, Fred and George exchanged secret smiles, making Harry even more curious.
“You see,” Fred explained, “we’ve been continuing our line of defensive charms and objects, like the Shield Hats you saw last summer, only more so. Like, we’re trying to get ones that will send the spell back to the caster, and things like that. And we’re working on these brilliant modifications to our Snackboxes, where all you have to do is throw it and hit the other person with one, instead of swallowing it, and then the symptom starts.”
Hermione started to question them excitedly, but George cut her off. “And, naturally, these ones have no antidote. Well, of course it would be a disaster if any of these got into the hands of the Death Eaters. Our workroom isn’t all that secluded,” he said, waving a hand towards the swinging door that led to the back rooms of the shop. At least two or three purple-robed employees were entering or exiting each minute, and the room behind the door was clearly accessible. “So…”
“We’ve decided on a bit more secrecy,” continued Fred. “We needed a place to develop these weapons where no one can get in but us and whoever we chose to bring with us. And we found the perfect place. Follow me, if you please?”
Curiously, Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed Fred to the back room of the store. He then opened a little door on the side, revealing a small closet containing only one item: a trunk.
Harry gasped when he saw it. “I think I know what this is!”
“Please, Harry, enlighten us,” said Ron, rather sarcastically. “I’m just dying to know what’s so special about a plain old trunk.”
“And that, dear brother, is why you’ll never be a prankster,” teased George. “You fail to see the potential in simple things.”
“All right, step in, all of you,” said Fred as he ushered them into a cramped closet, shutting the door once all five of them were in.
“This is where we make our most secret potions and develop our best charms.”
“A broom closet?” asked Ron.
“No!” corrected Harry. “It’s a–“
“A magical trunk.” Fred fitted a key into the lock on the trunk and, almost reverently, opened the lid.
Harry knew what to expect, but Ron and Hermione gazed down in to the room below in amazement. “That’s wonderful!” exclaimed Hermione.
“Wicked,” was Ron’s response.
“We can store whatever we want down here. And the best part is, we can carry it all with us when we move the trunk.”
Carry it all with us… the words rang a bell in Harry’s head. He gasped aloud. “Ron, Hermione, that’s it! This is how we can--”
He broke off suddenly, seeing the interested looks from Fred and George. “Erm, never mind.”
Ron looked a bit confused, but Hermione had seen his meaning. “Harry, that’s brilliant!”
“Care to share the news?” asked Fred.
“Sorry, can’t,” said Harry guiltily. “But, it looks like we’ve got another errand to run today!”
"This one's my favorite!” Ron said as they climbed the stairs out of yet another trunk. After questioning the twins, Harry had learned of a furniture store that had a large supply of magical trunks for sale. This one had thick, lush, carpeting on the stairs, and numerous extra features.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Why would Harry want a trunk with a Jacuzzi?”
Harry laughed. “It’s sort of nice, but I don’t think it would be particularly useful for --” he broke off. It was not the first time that one of them had nearly spilled their mission.
The store had an enormous range of trunks, and extra features for each one. Ron liked the extravagant ones, especially those with mini-bars, while Hermione leaned towards the ones with studies and self-cataloguing libraries.
Late in the afternoon, Harry was ready to make a decision. Any magical trunk was quite expensive, so he had to go easy on the extra features.
“Okay,” he announced. “I think I know what I want. Remember that green one, over there?” he asked, indicating the trunk. “That’s the one.”
“Ooh, it had space for a library, didn’t it?”
“And a kitchen!”
“Well, sort of,” laughed Harry. “Remember? It had a fairly large main room, with three walls of shelves, which we can use for books — yes, Hermione, I’ll ask for the catalogue function -- a desk, and a few armchairs. The third wall was sort of a kitchen, and there were two bedrooms, and I think there’s a small bathroom as well. It’s pretty much a very small house.”
“That’ll be perfect!”
“Yeah. And we need extra protection for it. It would be disastrous if Voldemort got a hold of it.” Ron managed not to cringe as Harry said the name. “Obviously, we want the anti-theft alarm, which stuns potential thieves and give you an alert, and of course the Shrinkable option — after all, we want a trunk for carrying around easily. Unless we buy special modifications, the…well, it’s sort of hard to explain. The extra area that the rooms take up can’t be compressed with a shrinking spell, because they don’t exist until you open the trunk, but if they aren’t shrunk, then the connection between the trunk and the room will be broken, and…” Harry stopped, seeing the confused look on Ron’s face.
“I’ll just take your word for it, mate,” said Ron.
Harry smiled. “Right, then. I’m also going to get a proximity detector for the trunk. Just imagine if we were all inside it, and someone thought it was unattended and ran off with it. The thief alarm wouldn’t pick it up, because it’d think that we were near enough to the trunk to stop the thief ourselves. So… those three things. Oh,” he added, shrugging. “I was going to get Quidditch wallpaper.”
“Harry, that’s not exactly practical,” chided Hermione.
“C’mon, we’ll need some fun!” urged Ron.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Harry started towards the counter to order his trunk officially, when he stopped abruptly. “Oh, I am such an idiot!”
Ron caught up with him. “What is it?”
Harry bit his lip. “Well, the Order doesn’t know that I’m here, and if, when my guard of the day comes by this evening, and they see that I’ve got a brand-new trunk, they’re bound to ask questions.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll do it by owl order.”
He picked up some order forms and thanked the salesman who had shown them around the trunks, then left the store, Ron and Hermione following behind.
Harry checked his wrist, remembered that he still hadn’t replaced his watch, then looked at the sun. To his surprise, it was rather low in the sky. He sighed. “I should probably get back to Privet Drive. Today was really fun,” he said to Ron and Hermione. “Will you stop by tomorrow or something?”
They agreed, and Harry Apparated back to his uncle’s house.
And so Harry sat at his window, watching the spot where Hedwig had vanished a good half hour ago, carrying the order for his trunk. Aunt Petunia had been furious when he returned home — after all, he had been out having fun for almost half of the day. He had tolerated her screams, then trudged up to his bedroom. The visitor from the Order that night had been Hestia Jones — not particularly interesting.
He realised that, after the trunk arrived, they would really have to leave to find Horcruxes. It was one thing to talk about it, and quite another to actually do it. The trio didn’t really have plans yet, just a general sense of their mission.
Perhaps he could stall the inevitable journey a bit longer? The really did need to know where they were going, after all. And, knowing Hermione, there would be a few libraries that she would want to consult before they could leave.
There were goodbyes to be said as well. They would have to leave secretly, but Ron and Hermione would want to do something special with their parents before they left, just in case…
And maybe Harry could go with Ron to the Burrow? He told himself that he, too, wanted to say goodbye to Molly and Arthur, and the twins, if they were there. And maybe, just maybe, he could see Ginny too?
Harry shook his head. Nonsense. Ginny wouldn’t even want to see him. And he certainly didn’t want to see her… or at least, that’s what he told himself. Seeing her would just bring back feelings he had been trying so hard to suppress.
Harry pulled his thoughts back to the mission, and the trunk.
The trunk. Of course, Harry reasoned with himself, it would be best to see if the trunk worked before they left. Just test out its functions and all. He was already getting ideas…
He smiled. Yes, testing out the trunk could be quite fun indeed.
Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Tests at the Dursleys'
Author's Notes: Sorry, this is a much shorter chapter. But the next one will be in the queue already by the time this is approved!
Thanks to my fantabulous beta Erik!
Oh, and I know I'm posting all the chapters in quick sucession, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't review each one! :D Please, if you like it, tell me, and if you hate it, tell me why and I'll try to improve. Thanks so much!!!!!
Ron was sitting in his room at the Burrow, looking through the book that he had bought almost a week ago in Diagon Alley. The book was fascinating, and for once Ron found himself enthusiastic about reading something that wasn’t related to Quidditch.
Suddenly, he heard a tapping on his window. He reluctantly closed his book and looked up at the window.
It was Hedwig. Ron rushed to the window and opened it to let her in. She coolly flapped into the room, perched on his bedpost, and extended her leg. There were two short scrolls attached to it. Ron untied the letter with his name (the other was Hermione’s) quite hurriedly — usually Harry’s letters contained important news.
He unrolled the scroll, and was surprised to find only two words: It’s here.
For a second, Ron wondered what the message could mean. Suddenly, he understood. The trunk! It must have arrived by owl order.
Ron smiled briefly, thinking of what the Dursleys would have said to an enormous package arriving by owl post, then realised that it probably would have been shrunken to make things easier on the owls.
His next though was: I have so got to see this trunk! He quickly rummaged around for a piece of parchment, a quill, and an inkpot, and scribbled a note to Harry saying that he’d Apparate by tomorrow to see it. He rolled up the note and tied it to Hedwig’s leg. The owl hooted her thanks, then flew out the window, presumably to give Hermione her note.
Ron went downstairs and told his mother that he was planning to visit Harry tomorrow, then went back to his room and picked up his book.
Ron Apparated to the corner of Privet Drive the next morning. As soon as he arrived, he heard a voice calling, “Harry!”
He walked up to Number 4, where Hermione was waiting outside the front door. She turned when she heard him walking up behind her.
“Oh, Ron! I’m so glad you’re here!” she said excitedly, though her face showed apprehension. “I just can’t wait to see the inside of Harry’s new trunk, can you? But the only problem is,” she paused, biting her lip, “he isn’t home, or, or, something.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve been knocking and ringing the doorbell for ages, but he hasn’t answered! I’m really worried.”
“The doorbell? What’s that?” asked Ron.
“Oh, it’s this little button here, you press it and it makes a noise inside the house, so that the family knows you’re waiting outside.”
Curious, Ron tried the button. He heard a faint ringing sound, but nothing else happened. He shrugged. “Where do you think he is?”
Hermione grimaced. “I don’t know. This is terrible. What if he was kidnapped or something?”
Ron frowned. “Do you really think so? Would the Order let that happen?”
Hermione sighed. “I guess not… but it’s possible…”
“Well, why don’t we check? D’you think we can just go in?”
“Oh, I don’t know, it’d be really rude… But what if he’s really gone? What would happen then?” said Hermione worriedly, wringing her hands.
“Hermione, I’m sure he’s fine.” Ron paused, then snorted. “And anyways, who cares about rudeness? It’s the Dursleys! And Harry probably just didn’t hear the bell — I sent a note with Hedwig to tell him that I was coming.”
“Oh, all right, I suppose…”
Ron took out his wand. “Alohomora! I just love that we can do magic outside of school!”
The lock clicked, and when Ron tried the handle, it opened easily. Cautiously, the walked in, looking around.
“Hello?” called Hermione softly. “Anyone home?”
“What if we just go up to Harry’s room?” suggested Ron. “Even if he’s not there, it’ll be a good place to wait.
“Okay…”
The climbed the stairs and walked into Harry’s little bedroom. In the middle of the floor was the trunk. It really was glorious, covered in a sturdy green material that looked perfectly soft and smooth, with shiny brass fastenings glimmering in the sunlight. Hermione let out a little gasp when she saw it, and Ron’s eyes widened in surprise.
That was one awesome trunk.
Inside the trunk, Harry used the proximity detector to watch his friends’ approach. He grinned a little at their reactions when they first saw it.
Harry stretched back in the chair he was sitting in. They were surprisingly comfortable. He had been organising all his books — school textbooks as well as the ones he had purchased in Diagon Ally — and entering them into the catalogue when Ron and Hermione had arrived. Or at least, that’s what he told himself he had been doing. Harry had started to do the job, but finding his fifth-year OWL notes had reminded him of how much Ginny had studied for her OWLs, and when he started thinking about Ginny…
About to go greet Ron and Hermione, Harry had changed his mind and stayed in the trunk. It would be fun to surprise them.
The proximity detector didn’t really record the sounds outside the trunk very well (good sound quality was an extra nineteen Galleons that Harry didn’t want to spend), which meant that Harry couldn’t really hear what was going on. Even so, he could tell that Ron and Hermione were having a debate of some sort outside of the trunk. Ron reached out to touch the trunk, but Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him back, saying something agitatedly.
Harry smiled, hoping that Ron would try to touch the trunk. He settled back into the chair and watched as Ron shook free of Hermione, and began to bicker with her. Harry nearly laughed aloud, watching the classic scene. Finally, Ron gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed the latch on the trunk.
Harry laughed as a puff of purple smoke enveloped Ron’s hand, then evaporated. Ron leapt back with a yelp. Hermione let out a little shriek as she watched Ron shake his hand back and forth furiously.
Ron began to make horrified gasping sounds — Harry couldn’t hear it very well, but he recognised his friend’s facial expression just as well as he recognised his friend's fear of the creature that was clinging to his hand.
A large, black, furry spider was crawling up Ron’s arm. Harry noticed Hermione dithering in surprise, and Ron’s not-quite-screeches of terror. Seeing that neither of his friends were about to come to their senses, he decided that it was time to make an appearance.
He got up and went over to the ladder that led up to the trapdoor in the ceiling. He pushed up on the trap door, and emerged into the bright sunlight that lit his bedroom. Hermione gave another little gasp when he appeared, but Ron didn’t even seem to notice. Harry watched his friend for a second, then vanished the spider.
Ron stared at his hand stupidly for a second, then looked up and noticed Harry. He broke into a relieved smile. “Harry! When did you get there? Your trunk is… horrendous! I tried to touch it, and a, a,” he shuddered, “a spider appeared on my hand!”
Harry tried for a minute to stifle his laugher, then gave up the struggle and burst out laughing.
“It was not funny!” Ron protested.
Harry stopped laughing. “Sorry, Ron. It’s just part of the trunk’s defense mechanisms. The spell is inspired by a boggart — it conjures whatever you most fear. With you, it’s spiders, so a spider appeared on your hand. It would have vanished in another minute or so — I just decided to get rid of it myself.”
Ron shook his head in disbelief. “Wicked awesome.” He sighed. “Really wicked.”
“So… d’you think we’ll be safe enough?”
Hermione smiled. “Yes, of course. That really is wonderful protection. Not even Death Eaters can stand up to their worst fears. Oh, but Harry…” She stopped, biting her lip.
He shot her a concerned glance. “What is it?”
Hermione sighed. “When you didn’t answer the door, you had us so worried! I thought you’d be kidnapped by Death Eaters, or something equally horrible. Don’t scare us like that again!” A tear leaked from the corner of her eye.
Harry frowned with concern. Awkwardly, he gave her a hug. “Sorry about that. I won’t hide again…”
Ron watched them with apprehension. He hadn’t realised how badly Hermione had been scared, and he wished that he had done more to reassure it.
“Oh, one thing,” Harry said. “I was planning to test this on your family, Ron. Hopefully it will convince them that we’ll be safe when we’re out hunting the Horcruxes. I’ll tell you guys when I do it, so that you don’t get too worried.”
“Thanks, Harry,” said Hermione gratefully, wiping away her tears.
“Really, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think…”
“So,” said Ron, trying to change the subject, “when are you going to try out the trunk with my folks?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Harry. “Maybe next week. How about Tuesday?”
“Sure!”
“So, anything in the way of new spells?”
“Well, I’ve been looking through my books, and…”
The trio set to work, preparing for their quest.
Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Tests at the Weasleys'
Author's Notes: Okay, here's chapter three. Enjoy!
Thanks to my amazing beta Erik! I think he finally taught me how to spell sentence (is that right?!). Pathetic, I know, but until yesterday, I thought it was scentance. XD
And remember, a review each chapter keeps away the hungry raptor! (Okay, the rhyme is forced, but the message should be clear -- please review!)
“Ron, I’m here!”
Harry walked up the path in front of the Burrow, nervously fingering his shrunken trunk that rested in his pocket. He was planning to spend all day hiding from the Weasleys, but what if they reacted as Hermione had?
Harry shook his head, trying to get rid of his worries. Ron would reassure them, just as Harry had asked.
He knocked on the door and called again. The door swung open, revealing a grinning Ron.
“You brought it?” he whispered.
“Of course.”
In a much louder voice, Ron said, “Hi, Harry! Great to see you!”
Harry walked in just as Mrs. Weasley bustled in and enveloped him in a hug. “Harry, dear, how wonderful to see you! I have some lovely scones fresh out of the oven — you look as though you could use a scone.”
Harry blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, but I have some things to show Ron. Do you mind if we look through the things I brought as we eat?”
“Of course not, dear. Come right in!”
In no time at all, Harry was settled with Ron at the Weasleys’ large, well-scrubbed kitchen table, the enlarged trunk sitting on the ground between them and a plate of fresh scones in easy reach.
Mrs. Weasley stayed in the kitchen for a while, apparently cleaning, but she eventually went into the sitting room.
Ron looked over his shoulder to make sure that she was really gone, then turned to Harry and whispered, “Alright, you’re safe. Get in, now!”
Harry nodded his agreement, then opened the lid of his trunk and climbed inside. Ron left the room to ‘use the loo,’ just as they had agreed on earlier.
Ron waited outside the kitchen for a minute or so, then came back in. He feigned a look of surprise just in case, even though no one was in the room at the moment.
Making his voice loud enough to be heard, and yet not so loud as to seem overly obvious, Ron said, “Harry? Where’d you go?”
He shrugged for appearances sake, grabbed a scone, and went off to ‘look for Harry’ in the rest of the house, calling his name loudly.
Finally, he returned to the ground floor of the Burrow and went into the room where his mother was knitting.
He bit his lip. This was, morally, the most difficult part of the plan. He had to convince Molly that Harry was truly missing, and he knew that it would upset his mother. He consoled himself, saying that she would laugh at herself later when Harry came out from inside is trunk.
He put on a worried expression, furrowing his brow and twisting his hands anxiously. He took a deep breath and walked over to his mother. “Mum? I can’t find Harry! I think he might be missing…”
“You sure you checked the broom shed?”
“Yes, twice. Oh, Mum, where could he be?” wailed Ginny.
“I’m sure he’s around somewhere…” Molly tried to comfort her very worried daughter, but it looked as if she was having trouble believing her own words.
Ron came into the room. “Any luck finding Harry?”
“No! He’s gone! Oh, what could have happened?” Ginny looked as if she was trying to hold back tears.
A very weird expression came over Ron’s face. If Ginny hadn’t known better, she would have sworn that he was trying not to laugh. “It’s not funny!” she snapped.
“No, of course it isn’t.” But he still seemed to be holding back a laugh.
Ginny couldn’t see how anyone could possibly find the situation funny. In fact, this was probably the least funny situation she had ever been in. They were in the middle of a war, and someone had disappeared. No, not just someone; Harry Potter, the one she loved — Ginny tried to stop her thoughts. Remember, you’re trying to get over Harry! For real, this time. He’s right, it’s for your own good, and his, too. He doesn’t want me! But in her heart, she knew it wasn’t true. Harry still wanted her just as much as she still wanted him.
But now he was missing… maybe even… No! He’s fine! Ginny tried to stop thinking.
Ron left the room and went into the kitchen, closing the door behind him. Ginny heard the sounds of muffled laughter.
She rose angrily and stalked into the kitchen after Ron.
Ron was sitting on top of Harry’s trunk. Ginny stopped, curiosity momentarily overcoming her anger.
“So, Ron, what was it that Harry wanted to show you?”
He looked up, startled. Apparently he hadn’t noticed her come in. “Oh, you know… just stuff.”
“You’re keeping secrets from me, and I don’t like it.”
Ron shrugged. “So what? There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“You could tell me. Just tell me what’s in the trunk.”
The strange, I’m-trying-very-hard-not-to-laugh expression came over his face again. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”
She sighed in exasperation. “Yes, I would!”
He turned to the trunk and gave it a significant glance, then sighed. “Alright, maybe. But you’ll have to leave the room for a minute or so.”
“Erm, okay,” agreed Ginny, very confused. She returned to try and comfort her mother.
And so she missed Harry emerging from the trunk, holding a whispered conversation with Ron, and climbing back down into the trunk.
“Okay!” Ron shouted as he opened the kitchen door. “Everyone come in here! I…” he sounding again like he was trying not to laugh, “I think I’ve found Harry!”
Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek and hurried into the kitchen, closely followed by Ginny. Mr. Weasley came in from the backyard, and Fred and George (who Mrs. Weasley had called in to help a little while ago) came down from upstairs.
Everyone stood in silence in the kitchen for a few seconds, looking around for Harry. Finally, Mr. Weasley said what they were all thinking: “But, Ron… Harry isn’t here.”
“Yes, he is.” He stepped up on a chair, and, with a dramatic flourish, flung his arms wide in a performer’s stance. “Ladies and gentlemen, I now present…” he waved his wand, and a drum roll sounded, “Mr. Harry Potter!” With another flourish of his hands, he pointed to Harry’s trunk and jumped down from the chair.
The lid of the trunk slowly rose…
...and Harry clambered out, a cheeky grin on his face. “Miss me?”
“Definitely a success.”
“Even Fred and George were impressed!”
Hermione leaned back into her comfy chair inside Harry’s trunk with a sigh, after listening to Harry and Ron recount their prank at the Weasleys’. “And you’re sure that no one minded being scared out of their minds?”
“Positive. They were all laughing.”
She smiled. “Well then, mission successful. Your trunk works wonderfully, Harry.”
“Yes, it does.” He took a deep breath, then continued. “I’d like to test it one more time, around Aurors. I’m sure everything will be fine, but just in case… I’ll bring it to Grimmauld Place with me, and ‘go missing’ for a few hours.”
“But, Harry, we aren’t telling the Order that we plan to run away and hunt Horcruxes,” said Hermione anxiously.
“I just won’t tell them that I was in the trunk — I can say that I forgot something at the Dursleys’ and went to get it. They’ll never guess.”
Hermione sighed. “Well, it would be good to get some extra practice with it…”
Ron eyes lit up. “Say, Harry, can we hide in there with you this time?”
Harry smiled. “Sure, why not? It shouldn’t make a difference.”
“Wicked!”
“Hermione? You want to come too?”
“Yes, of course. It will be quite interesting to see how the proximity detector functions in the presence of people… but why will we be in Grimmauld Place with the trunk in the first place.”
Harry smiled. “I did think of that, you know. I’ve been researching blood protection spells, like the one that my mother’s love gave me,” he swallowed hard, then continued, “and I’m fairly certain that it’ll be safe to leave the Dursleys’ at the end of this week. Of course I want out of here as soon as possible, and so why shouldn’t I stay at Grimmauld Place? After all, it is my house!” He grinned.
“Perfect!” said Ron enthusiastically. “So, we’ll meet you there, oh, say, Saturday? Will that work?”
“Sure. Stop by sometime in the morning.”
“This is going to be so much fun!”
Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Tests at Grimmauld Place
Author's Notes: The last chapter! And this time it's under 10,000 words!
Thanks to Erik for beta-ing this part very late last night (errr... this morning) so that I could post it before I leave for camp.
By the way, I won't be able to respond to your reviews (which of course you'll leave. :D Please?) for a few weeks, but I promise I'll do it then!
“… so could I stay at Headquarters?” Harry finished with a hopeful grin.
Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed. He had temporarily taken over the Order after Dumbledore’s death, but he knew he just wasn’t as qualified to make this sort of decisions as the old Headmaster was. “You’re positive that leaving won’t have any negative effects on the protection spell?”
“Yes, definitely. I’ve researched it very thoroughly over the summer.”
“Alright then. I’ll send a few Order members back to Muggle house with you to get your stuff.”
“There’s no need,” Harry said, an inexplicable grin on his face. “I’ve got it all with me.” He reached into his pocket and took out shrunken green trunk with shiny brass fastenings. “I love being overage — I used a spell to pack up, then I shrunk it. The packing’s not very neat... still, it’s better than when Tonks did it.”
Kingsley laughed at that. “She isn’t exactly what I’d call tidy… Okay. You want to use the same room as before?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
“Then go on up and get settled.”
“You sure they’ll notice that you’re gone?” Ron asked as he climbed down into the trunk where Harry and Hermione were already waiting.
“Positive. This is the room where the Order has most of their meetings. I told Kingsley that I’d be in here for a couple hours. He’s always passing through this room, so he’s bound to notice that I’m not where I should be.”
“Alright. We have everything we need for a few hours?” asked Hermione.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, Ron ensure that we have about two weeks worth of food, a case of Butterbeer, a box of chocolate frogs, a chess set… oh, and a partridge in a pear tree.”
“Hey! You never know, we may get hungry! Speaking of that Butterbeer…”
They settled down to wait and got out some snacks, at Ron’s urging. After nearly a half-hour, the proximity detector began to make a strange noise, like a little whistle.
Harry looked up sharply. “Alright, someone’s coming.”
They all clustered around the round piece of glass that was central to the proximity detector — it showed who was outside of the trunk. The image started out small and blurry, but it got larger and clearer as the person walked nearer.
“Wait… is that Ginny?” Ron asked, confused. “What’s she doing here?”
They could see clearly now — it was, indeed, Ginny. She spotted the trunk and gave it a disapproving look.
She bent down close to the trunk and said, loudly and clearly so that they could easily hear it through the proximity detector, “I know that you’re in there, Harry, and you too, Ron and Hermione. Unless you let me in this second I’ll tell the Order about your trunk, and I’ll Bat-Bogey you if you ever come out of that trunk again.”
Ron gulped nervously. “Harry, we’d better let her in. Trust me on this one — you do not want to be on the receiving end of one of her Bat-Bogey Hexes.” He grimaced. “I know from experience.”
Harry sighed. “But what if she demands to know about the Horcrux hunt? Do we tell her about that to avoid getting hexed?”
“Harry, be reasonable,” said Hermione. “How could she know about the Horcrux hunt? Just let her in and we’ll see what she says.”
“Alright.” Harry climbed the ladder and opened the trunk’s lid. “Get in here, fast,” he said, not seeing the surprised and pleased look on Ginny’s face. “And not a word to anyone!”
She looked around coolly once she was down the ladder. “Nice place you got here, Harry.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Ron accusingly.
“Oh, Mum found some doxies in the drawing room and she sent me over to borrow the doxycide that we used here. Now, would you mind explaining why the three of you keep disappearing off on your own without telling anyone?”
Harry gulped. “Well, you know, we’re friends and all, we’re just fooling around.”
“I see. So you’re fooling around with ‘Masters of Defense’ and ‘How to Battle the Dark Arts’?” she asked, looking at the books that lay open on the table.
“Erm, just a little light reading?” tried Harry helplessly.
“Sure. Now, out with it, all of you. What are you up to?”
The trio exchanged nervous glanced. Hermione was the first to speak. “Sorry Ginny, but we just can’t tell you.”
“Oh really? Then I’ll just find out on my own.”
Ron smirked. “Good luck with that.”
Ginny calmly walked over to the table and picked out a sheet of neat notes in Hermione’s hand, clearly labeled ‘Possible Horcruxes’. “Possible Horcruxes?” asked Ginny. “What’s a Horcrux?”
Hermione sighed. “We really can’t tell you, Ginny, and I’m positive that there’s not a single book in the Hogwarts library on the topic. So you are not going to find out.”
Still unfazed, Ginny went over to the bookshelf, browsing the titles. She paused when she go to the ‘H’ section, then pulled out a book. “Horcruxes: Darkest of the Dark Arts,” she read. Ginny turned furiously to Harry. “You’re studying the Dark Arts?” she asked incredulously.
“No, it’s not like that! Voldemort…” Harry sighed and turned to Ron and Hermione. “I guess we have to tell her now, don’t we.” It was not a question. He looked back at Ginny. “I’m going to ask that you never tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, unless we all die before Voldemort does.” Her eyes widened. “Yes, it’s that serious.”
“Harry, you don’t have to… I mean, I was just curious…” she protested feebly.
“No, come to think of it, it’ll be good to have someone else who knows, in case we can’t tell anyone. It’s like this…”
She sat wide-eyed in shock for a minute when he finished. Finally, she said, “And I suppose you’re going to go off and look for the rest of the Horcruxes?”
When they all nodded, Ginny sighed. “And I can’t do anything to stop you? No, that was a silly question.” She took a deep breath, then said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, “Then I suppose my only option is to come along with you.”
The reactions to this were varied: Ron gave an incredulous gasp, Hermione sank down in her chair and shot Ginny a pitying look, and Harry immediately started to shake his head.
“Ginny,” he began, “There is no way you can come with us. For one thing, you’re underage — you can’t even do magic outside of school! This will be a very dangerous journey, and I can’t let you come. You can’t Apparate, you haven’t been researching with us, you couldn’t even do a simple Lumos without bringing the Ministry down upon us, and…” his voice dropped low, but everyone still heard him. “And I care about you too much.”
Ginny’s eyes brimmed with tears. “That’s exactly why I have to go with you: because I care.”
Harry’s face held a pained expression. “Don’t you see, Ginny? If you came, you’d really be on the front line of the war. Voldemort would be after you right along with me, his top target.” Ron managed to suppress a wince at the name, for once. “And I’d be too worried about you to concentrate properly on the task.”
Ginny’s expression turned to shocked outrage. “Is that all I am? A distraction? Did you ever consider that maybe I don’t care? Maybe I want to be out there with you, no matter what the cost!”
“But Ginny--”
She cut him off. “And what am I supposed to do while you’re gone? Lie around on my back and eat Chocolate Frogs and worry while you’re out there risking your life? I don’t think so!”
“Ginny, I--”
“And what if, Merlin forbid, you don’t come back?” she whispered softly. “What if I’m reading the Prophet one morning, and I see the news that famous Harry Potter has died, that he’s now the Boy-Who-Didn’t-Live?” Her eyes held a haunted look, as if she had dreamed this very scenario. “How would I feel, knowing that I could have gone with you, that I could have helped? Knowing that I’ll live the rest of my life without you? I don’t think I could bear it.” She looked up in to his eyes.
He sighed mournfully. “That could very well happen, Ginny. And what if it was reversed? What if I was crying over your grave, knowing that it’s my fault, that I led you into danger? I know I couldn’t bear it.” He sighed again. “Why, Ginny? Why do you want so badly to step out into danger, or even death?”
She crossed the little room inside the trunk with three quick strides. “This is why.” Tenderly yet determinedly, she kissed him.
The kiss was long and passionate, filled with desperation after months of separation. And Harry knew, he Harry needed Ginny. He could never, ever, leave her behind. She belonged at his side, not squirreled away at the Burrow. There was no question about it — Ginny Weasley was with him to stay.
Ron and Hermione exchanged amused looks, then, by silent agreement, crept out of the trunk to give the reunited couple some privacy.
They broke apart, panting. Harry looked at her, regret plain on his face. “Gin, I’ve been such a prat, I’m so sorry…”
“So I’m coming then?” When he nodded, she smiled. “Then all is forgiven.”
Almost an hour later, Harry emerged from the trunk clutching Ginny’s hand. He walked into the kitchen to find Ron and Hermione snogging passionately. He exchanged an amused look with Ginny, then whispered, “Shall we surprise them?”
Ginny nodded, and then called loudly, “Having a good time, Ronnie?”
Ron leapt away from Hermione with a gasp. “Ginny! Harry! We were just…”
“Snogging? Yes, we rather noticed,” said Harry amusedly.
Hermione blushed crimson. “We were going to tell you, but…” She looked significantly towards Ginny, “We didn’t want you to get all moody.”
“No worries. I’m glad you two finally came to your senses!”
Ron blushed redder than Hermione. “I was sort of a prat this past year, wasn’t I? But after Dumbledore’s funeral, things just sort of fell into place.”
Hermione snorted. “What he means is, he just started snogging me while trying to comfort me as we mourned Dumbledore.”
Harry laughed aloud. “Yes, that sounds like Ron. Going for what he wants without thinking.”
“Oi!” Ron protested, half laughing. “I was thinking very hard about snogging her! And,” he said seriously, “Harry, I see what you mean about kissing crying girls. Not much fun.”
Hermione elbowed him. “Not funny, Ron.”
Harry grinned. “Well, I see that you two are back to your normal bickering selves.”
“And you to are back to normal, too,” said Ron, staring pointedly at Harry and Ginny’s clasped hands. “Joined at the hip, or, more often, at the lip.”
Ginny cheerfully ignored his jibes. “Well, we’ll just leave you two alone now. You can get back to what you’re doing.” She turned to leave the kitchen.
“Wait!” called Ron. “Harry, Kingsley wanted to see you .”
“Right. Thanks, Ron!”
Harry and Ginny found Kingsley Shacklebolt in the little room he had designated as an office for Order business. He looked up and broke into a relieve smile as Harry came in. “Harry! There you are! We couldn’t find you anywhere, we were so worried!”
Harry smiled guiltily. “Sorry, I was… in the loo.” Ginny stepped on his foot — she knew a terrible lie when she heard it — but it was too late.
“We checked there, of course,” said Kingsley, smiling slightly. “No, you have something you’re not telling us. As long as it won’t harm the Order, that’s fine with me.”
“Thank you, Kingsley,” said Harry, relieved. “What did you want me for?”
“I just wanted you to come see me, so that I’d know you hadn’t been kidnapped. Thank you, that’s all.”
Harry left the room as Kingsley returned to his paperwork, shutting the door behind him.
Outside, Ginny turned guiltily to Harry. “I’d better go back now. I’ve been away for too long — Mum just sent me over for some doxycide.”
“Will you be alright? Will she be angry?”
“No.” She grinned. “Unlike you, I can lie my way out of a situation.”
He kissed her one last time, softly. “You’ll come with Ron to Privet Drive? We’re just about ready to leave on the hunt.”
She smiled. “Of course I will. See you soon, Harry.”
And she was gone. Harry felt the cold rush in to replace the warmth that came whenever he held her in his arms. He looked after sadly as she went down the stairs. “See you soon,” he repeated to himself.
Suddenly, he smiled. He was away from the Dursleys, and he was the proud owner of a magical trunk. Sure, he was about to leave on a dangerous journey, but he was going to be with Ron and Hermione, the two greatest friends in the world. And, best of all, Ginny would be with him once more.
Yes, the summer certainly was starting to look up. Dark times lay ahead — that Harry knew even without an OWL in Divination. But Harry wasn’t worried. He had a wand, a trunk, two best friends, and Ginny.