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Harry Potter and the Secrets He's Kept | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Sirius Black Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, General, Romance Warnings: Disturbing Imagery, Mild Language, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse Rating: R Reviews: 46 Summary: Sequel to Harry Potter and the Secrets Revealed. Harry and friends have rewound time, and gone back to the end of Harry's second year. Harry must now try to change the future without making Dumbledore suspicious, and harder yet, without Voldemort finding out. Hitcount: Story Total: 48278; Chapter Total: 6601 |
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Harry and the Weasleys, minus Percy, walked up to the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore’s office only to realize that they didn’t have the password. Harry looked at the gargoyle and asked the twins, “Guys, I know that you can talk to paintings but what about statues, can you talk to them?” “Well, if they understand passwords, then they might understand other things as well,” Fred muttered, looking thoughtful. Harry stared at the statue for a minute, and hoped that he wasn’t going to embarrass himself. “Erm, we really need to talk to Professor Dumbledore. It’s an emergency.” The gargoyle nodded once and stepped aside for them. They crowded onto the moving staircase, and before Harry could knock on the door at the top, Dumbledore said, “Enter.” Harry pushed open the door, and his friends followed him into the room. Fawkes left his perch and with a soft whoosh landed on Harry’s right shoulder. “Hello, Fawkes,” Harry said, rubbing the phoenix’s chest and neck. “What brings you five to my office on this fine day,” Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling in an all-knowing sort of way. “Sir, I have some serious concerns about what happened the day after my parents died.” Whatever Dumbledore had expected, it wasn’t that. “What exactly did you have concerns about?” “Well,” Harry began somewhat nervously, “Hermione did some reading about what happened that night, and she found out that my parents placed a Fidelius Charm on the house. According to her research, the Secret Keeper was Sirius Black. She also found out that he was captured the next day after killing one of my parents’ friends, and a bunch of other people.” Scabbers began to furiously claw at the cage door, trying to open it. Harry continued, “The man he supposedly killed was Peter Pettigrew…” Dumbledore interrupted here. “What do you mean supposedly? They found…” He was interrupted. “A finger,” Harry said, “and nothing else. But if Sirius Black had caused the explosion killing Pettigrew, there would have been, well, chunks of him all over the place, not just a finger.” Dumbledore’s eyes widened at the implications. “We,” he indicated the Weasleys, “all have formulated a pretty good idea of what happened. Hand me the map.” He said the last to Fred. Harry tapped the parchment with his wand saying, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” Scabbers was panicking even more now. “If you see here,” Harry brought the map to the Headmaster, “This dot in your office is labeled…” “Peter Pettigrew,” the Headmaster finished. “But that is impossible. I can see through invisibility cloaks and charms.” “But that’s just it.” Harry said beaming, “It’s ingenious really. No one can tell a real animal from an animagus in animal form. And if you’d just framed someone for your murder, you’d want to be somewhere you could get news about what happened to him, like if he ever escaped.” Dumbledore’s eyes landed on the rat. “Really, Harry, that is all very interesting, but it is quite impossible. Why would Pettigrew fake his own death?” Harry grinned. “Who is the person that I would most likely choose as my Secret Keeper if I went into hiding?” “Miss Granger, as she is the more stable of your best friends.” “It’s perfect, too perfect. Voldemort would know who my best friends are, and who I would most likely choose. So I would choose a less obvious choice, and Hermione would be a decoy. I would choose Neville,” Harry said. “He’s got a reputation of not being the most powerful wizard, and a little slow to catch on in class.” “I see what you’re saying, but why wouldn’t this have come to light before?” Dumbledore said, still condescendingly, eyes twinkling madly. “Because Sirius Black never got a trial with Veritaserum, as was his right. He was just chucked into Azkaban without a second thought because everyone ‘knew’ he was the Secret Keeper.” “So you are saying that your friend’s rat is really the animagus form of Peter Pettigrew, who was not only your parents’ Secret Keeper, but framed someone else for their murder and his own.” Harry exchanged looks with his friends. “Yeah, that about sums it up.” “And I suppose that you want me to try to reverse the animagus process on the spell.” Dumbledore pulled out his wand and began to say the spell without waiting for an answer. “Wait!” Harry snapped. “What?” Dumbledore asked innocently. “It means nothing unless Madam Bones the head of Magical Law Enforcement is here, preferably with a couple of Aurors,” Harry said. Dumbledore frowned. Harry was not the naïve boy he had been a few weeks before. Perhaps the horcrux, because that’s what the diary was, had possessed Harry instead of dying. “Very well,” Dumbledore said, pasting a smile on his face. He threw some floo powder into the fireplace and stuck his head in, calling out, “Ministry of Magic, Magical Law Enforcement Office.” A minute later, he pulled his head out and stepped back. The fire flared green again, and a tall stern looking woman with a monocle stepped through. She was closely followed by a scarred man, with a fake eye that rolled around in his head, and by a tall broad-shouldered black man with an African accent. “You said that you may have caught a murderer and unregistered animagus?” she said to Dumbledore. “Actually,” Ginny said, “Harry caught him.” So Harry explained to the Aurors and their boss about what he suspected, and even showed them the map. Madam Bones said, “Wands at the ready, boys,” to the Aurors, and she enlarged the cage, and the older Auror cast the animagus reversing spell at the same time. As the cage grew, so did the man. As soon as he stopped transforming, the second Auror hit him with a magic binding spell, preventing him from transforming again. Madam Bones stared in shock at the man. “Floo Cornelius, Dumbledore.” A minute later the pompous Minister of Magic stepped through the fireplace. “What is the meaning of this Dumbledore? I was in the middle of something!” he snapped. “Oh, we are quite well aware of what, or rather who you were doing,” Madam Bones said, smirking as Fudge paled. “We seem to have caught ourselves a rat, and you need to be here for his questioning under Veritaserum.” The black man pulled a bottle of clear liquid out of his pocket and handed it to Madam Bones, who looked at it with the Minister and Dumbledore. “That seems to be in order, Kingsley, please give the prisoner three drops,” she said. Kingsley did so, and they waited until the prisoner’s eyes went blank of emotion. “What is your full name?” she asked. “Peter Borachio Pettigrew.” “Why did you fake your death?” “Because my fellow Death Eaters wanted to kill me.” “Why would they want to do that?” “Because they blamed me for the fall of the Dark Lord.” “Why did they blame you?” “Because I told him where he could find the Potters.” “Were you the Potters’ Secret Keeper?” “Yes. Sirius Black felt he was the obvious choice, and by switching to me he could be a decoy.” “What else did you do for Voldemort?” “I spied on Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, a group that fought the Dark Lord.” “Do you know of any other Death Eaters who were not captured?” “Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Walden Macnair, Vincent Crabbe Sr., Gregory Goyle Sr., Aloysius Parkinson, Dolores Umbridge, and Jacob Flint.” Madam Bones turned and glared at the Minister of Magic. “Do you know how they escaped prosecution?” she asked. “They bribed Cornelius Fudge.” Fudge winced. “Arrest him,” Madam Bones told Moody. “Let’s take them both down to the Ministry and arrest those other Death Eaters.” She turned to Dumbledore. “An emergency session of the Wizengamot will start in an hour.” “I will be there.” “And bring these kids, and the other one they mentioned: Miss Granger,” she ordered. “Percy should be there as well,” Ron said. “He’s my older brother, and he had the rat before me. My parents should probably be there as well.” “I’ll see to it that your parents are there, Mr. Weasley. Bring the other boy, as well,” she said before stepping through the floo. Dumbledore sighed. This is not going according to plan. He threw some floo powder into the fireplace. “Transfiguration Office.” Within twenty minutes, Hermione and Percy were in the Headmaster’s office with the others. Professor McGonagall had explained the situation to them, and while Hermione was somewhat expecting it, Percy was not. He was currently sitting in a chair with a vacant expression on his face. - - - Dumbledore led the students to the lift in the atrium after submitting to wand registration, where the man at the desk, Eric Munch wrote down the information about each wand as it was weighed. When Eric handed Harry his wand back, he also slipped him a note without anyone else noticing. Harry calmly slipped the paper into his pocket along with his wand. The group took the lift down to level nine, and took the stairs down to courtroom ten on level ten. Harry personally thought that this was rather funny, as they didn’t have courtrooms one through nine at all. They entered the large square room, and Dumbledore ushered them into the front row, directly opposite the seats for Wizengamot members. “Now, I will be presiding over the trial, so I’ll be leaving you here. Your parents should be here soon,” he said to the Weasley children. Harry looked around the room as Dumbledore left. There was one other man in it. He was somewhat scarred, but looked like a Muggle Professor in a university. Granted, his suit was quite shabby, but he had an air of quiet intelligence about him. Harry’s musings were interrupted when, not five minutes later, the doors opened to reveal Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. “Mum,” Ginny cried out, and threw herself into her mother’s arms. “Oh, Ginny, how are you doing? Are you okay?” “I’m fine, Mum. Harry and I have been talking about what happened and that makes it a lot easier to deal with,” Ginny explained. The entire Weasley family and Hermione stared at Harry, who blushed bright red. “Thank you, dear,” Molly said, hugging him tightly. “Don’t be thanking me. Ginny’s my friend, and that’s what friends do. Besides, it helps me just as much as it helps her,” Harry explained, staring at the ground where he was scuffing his shoe. Molly and Arthur exchanged looks of confusion, but did not comment. After everyone had been hugged, they all sat down. Arthur sat down at the end of the aisle, next Molly who had Ginny on her other side. The twins were next followed by Percy, Hermione, Ron, and lastly Harry. Because of this, Harry didn’t hear Molly ask Ginny what Harry had meant when he said it helped him too. “Oh, Mum, it’s terrible. He told me about the Muggles he lives with. They hit him, and call him a freak, Mum. It’s just not right,” Ginny whispered. For the first time, Molly considered that maybe Ron, Fred and George weren’t exaggerating when they said that Harry had been locked in his room with a flap in the door for his relatives to give him food. In fact, now that she thought about it, he always was wearing clothes that were worn out and at least twice as large as he needed. And he was skin and bones when she hugged him after he arrived at the Burrow. He hadn’t been nearly that skinny at the beginning of the summer at Kings Cross. She blinked back tears. 'How could she have missed the signs? How could Dumbledore? Or Madam Pomfrey?' The Wizengamot entered and took their seats, and Pettigrew was escorted in by Auror Shacklebolt and another Auror. Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Are you ready?” he asked the witch who sat with a quill poised of a sheet of parchment. “Yes, sir,” she answered softly. “We are here for the trial of Peter Borachio Pettigrew on May 31, 1993,” Dumbledore stated in a voice that rang with power, “who is charged with the crimes of being a Death Eater, betraying the Potter family to Voldemort…” Nearly everyone winced except for Harry, Ginny, Dumbledore himself, and Madam Bones. “…resulting in the deaths of Lily and James Potter and the attempted murder of Harry Potter, the deaths of thirteen Muggles, the injuries of twelve Muggles, faking his own death in order to avoid prosecution, and framing another wizard for all of it. Interrogators: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot; Rufus Alan Scrimgeour, Interim Minister of Magic; and Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Court Scribe: Elizabeth Ann Perkins.” “Are there any witnesses for the defense?” Dumbledore asked. No one said anything. “Very well then,” Dumbledore waved Mad-Eye Moody over, “Auror Moody, please administer the Veritaserum.” “Gladly,” Moody responded, a scary looking smirk on his heavily scarred face. When Pettigrew’s eyes had glazed over, Dumbledore began the questioning. He used the same questions Madam Bones had during the questioning in his office, so nothing new came to light. After they were through with the questioning, Madam Bones said, “Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?” Not a single member of the Wizengamot responded. “And those in favor of conviction?” Every member raised their hands. “By unanimous agreement, we the members of the Wizengamot find that the accused is guilty as charged,” Dumbledore said in a clear ringing voice. “According to our laws, Peter Pettigrew is hereby sentenced to the Dementor’s kiss. Auror Shacklebolt, please gather your team of Aurors to escort the Dementor.” As Kingsley left the room to get his team members, Dumbledore spoke to Harry. “Mr. Potter, as a victim of Mr. Pettigrew’s, do you have anything you wish to say to him?” Harry stared at the short rat-like man. “Yes, Sir, I do.” Like Dumbledore, his voice rang out clear and strong. “May I face him?” “Of course.” Harry stood up and walked past the Weasleys and down the steps to the main floor. He turned and faced the petrified man. “Pettigrew,” he began, “You were once a member of a group of friends that I understand to have been just as close as I am to Ron and Hermione. You betrayed them all. You betrayed my parents to Voldemort, leaving me without a family. You betrayed another friend by blaming him for your crimes. And you betrayed your fourth friend by robbing him of his best friends. I would die for my friends, and they would do the same for me. I cannot comprehend how anyone could betray those they call friends.” Harry glared at the man. “Yet you have done so. In my mind, you, Pettigrew, are just as bad as Voldemort…no…you are worse!” Pettigrew flinched. “Voldemort is clear about those he wishes to kill. You are worse because you betrayed those who trusted you. I hope that whatever happens to your soul once you are kissed hurts you every bit as much as the things that you did hurt me, my parents, and everyone else hurt by your actions!” Harry finished, his eyes sparkling with conviction and righteous anger. He then returned to his seat. Dumbledore for a brief moment looked gobsmacked. “Mr. Lupin, do you have anything you would like to say?” The shabby looking man stood up and said, “Just one thing, Sir.” He did the same thing Harry did and faced Pettigrew. “Harry pretty much said everything that I feel, so this will be shorter than I had expected.” He glanced quickly at Harry, and nodded. “Pettigrew, you traitorous rat, I would have liked the privilege of doing away with you myself, but once I thought about it I realized that I don’t want to dirty my soul by murdering you. You aren’t worth it; you aren’t worth anything.” Kingsley reentered the room with his team as Remus sat back down. “Professor Dumbledore!” “Yes, Kingsley,” the Professor said, his eyes twinkling madly. “Auror Dawlish brought Sirius Black here, as per Madam Bone’s request, and a Dementor nearly kissed him…Black that is!” Lupin looked as though he wanted to jump out of his seat and was barely restraining himself. “Someone ordered it,” Kingsley finished. “Bring in Mr. Black,” Professor Dumbledore said, ignoring what Kingsley said for the time being. “Yes, Sir.” A minute later, a starved looking man entered in shackles. His hair hung to his waist and was very matted and dirty. He looked as though he hadn’t slept or bathed since he was first incarcerated. “So, did you finally decide to give me a trial?” he asked sarcastically, glaring at Dumbledore. “There is no need, as the real criminal has been caught.” Dumbledore indicated the chained Pettigrew. Black noticed Pettigrew for the first time and began to smile. “Then you wouldn’t mind removing these chains, now would you?” Moody flicked his wand, and the chains fell off of Black. He sighed gratefully and rubbed his wrists. “Do you have anything you would like to say to Mr. Pettigrew before he is kissed?” Black’s eyes widened. “I sure as hell do!” He walked over to face the rat. “Rot in hell, you bastard!” He took two steps forward and punched Pettigrew. He shook his hair out of his face and said, “I’ve been wanting to do that for eleven years.” “So how did it feel?” Remus asked loudly. “Bloody brilliant!” And with that, the two men were friends again. They didn’t need to talk about it, or apologize for anything; friends such as they didn’t need words, they just knew that the air between them was clear. “Auror Shacklebolt.” “Yes.” “You may escort the Dementor in.” The Auror nodded and left the room. A minute later the room grew cold and everyone began to feel depressed, as a black hooded figure was escorted in surrounded by ghostly, glowing white animals. It swept over to Pettigrew and leaned forward, lowering its hood. A small whitish-grey light floated out of his mouth and into the Dementor’s. They quickly escorted the creature out and the room returned to normal. The two remaining Aurors picked up Pettigrew by the arms, and escorted the shell of a man out of the room. “Mr. Black,” Interim Minister Scrimgeour began, “Your record has been cleared of all charges, and a sum of one million Galleons has been deposited in your account at Gringotts in compensation for the defamation of your character and for the years of your life that you were wrongfully imprisoned.” “I don’t think you could ever compensate me enough for that,” Black said calmly. “Yes…well…” Scrimgeour stammered. “The Ministry would be happy to do anything in its power to express our deepest remorse in this matter.” “Really…” Black drawled. “How nice…” He smiled and then said, “Perhaps we could discuss this another time. I am in need of a Healer right now.” He began to violently cough, proving his point. Then he said, voice rasping, “I believe I will be in St. Mungos for the time being.” He hadn’t noticed Harry during this time, which, Harry felt, was forgivable given the circumstances. Headmaster Dumbledore spent another hour talking to the Minister and Madam Bones about the other trials which were to be held later that week. At last, he was finished, and was able to escort the students back to the school. - - - Harry sighed as he packed his trunk. 'Another year gone, and now I get to go back to the Dursleys’. Yahoo,' he thought sarcastically. He tossed some of Dudley’s old shirts into his trunk, and followed it up by throwing in a few of Uncle Vernon’s old socks. He had already placed his books in the bottom of his trunk, barring Lockhart’s that is. Lockhart’s books were donated to the 'Great Gryffindor Bonfire of 1993'. They used the fire to roast marshmallows and cheese and anything else they could think of. Dobby was more than happy to bring them food from the kitchens. Fred and George had collected a butterbeer fund and, using the ‘Marauders Map’ for the last time, snuck to Hogsmeade. After the bonfire, they approached Harry. “Harry,” Fred began. “Yes…twin,” he replied, not sure which one he was talking to. George exchanged a look with Fred. “We’ve had two years with the map…” “…and memorized it,” Fred continued. “So we decided that it was time it was passed on to the Marauders’ heir.” With that, they handed the map over. “Guys, are you sure? I mean, you’re the ones that found it and figured out how to activate it.” “We’re sure,” they said together. Harry smiled in remembrance. 'Yes,' Harry thought to himself, tossing another homework scroll into his trunk, 'that bonfire will be a Hogwarts’ legend.' Suffice it to say, that thanks to Hermione’s silencing charms, no one found out about the party. Hermione would not normally have broken rules but, as she said, “If a war is going to be happening within a few years, then we’d better store up on all the good times that we can.” 'Yes, that was the best use of Lockhart’s books. Well worth the galleons spent on them.' Harry began to fold his school robes. He didn’t care about the clothes from the Dursleys getting wrinkled, but he took pride in his Hogwarts uniform. He smiled to himself as he folded the invisibility cloak. 'I must remember to talk to Mr. Lupin about my wand, he thought to himself, remembering the note that Eric Munch had slipped him at the Ministry of Magic.' It said, 'Your wand has about twelve different charms on it. They are for tracking you, and monitoring what spells you use, and at what power level you use. I suggest that you get someone you trust to remove them.' Harry strongly suspected the Headmaster of placing the charms on it, and so decided to go to someone else to get them taken off. 'It is sad,' he thought, 'that the very adults that I should be able to trust, I can’t. I mean between Dumbledore’s manipulations, the Dursleys’ abuse, and Professor McGonagall not believing me about the Stone, it’s ridiculous. I can’t even trust Madam Pomfrey,' he thought bitterly, 'She’s supposed to protect kids from abuse, but doesn’t. Like my third grade teacher.' He winced at the bitter memory. Flashback “Mr. Wilson,” a tiny Harry asked. He was eight, but he looked five. “Yes, Harry,” the grey haired, kind looking teacher asked. Harry fidgeted nervously. “The TV said that if a kid gets hit a lot by someone, then he should tell a trustworthy person like a teacher or policeman.” “Does someone hit you, Harry?” Mr. Wilson asked, sounding concerned. “My Uncle does… lots,” Harry muttered. “And my aunt tried to hit me with a hot frying pan once, but I ducked and ran outside. They — ” he took a deep breath, “they lock me in the cupboard under the stairs.” When Mr. Wilson’s eyes widened, Harry explained further, and in a whisper, “It’s my room. And sometimes, when I get in trouble, they’ll keep me locked up for days without food.” Later that day, the Dursleys were called in for a parent teacher conference. They took Dudley and Harry with them because Mrs. Figg was visiting her niece. Harry listened outside the door, as he’d never been told that it was wrong to do that. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Mr. Wilson, Dudley and Harry’s teacher.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well,” the couple responded. “Before we begin, I’d like you to read something,” there was the sound of shuffling papers. “Ah, here it is. This was an assignment for the creative writing class. Its Harry’s as you can see from the signature. I had the students write a story about their parents.” Harry Potter March 15, 1989 My parents died in a car crash when I was one. I don’t remember them. I sometimes dream about them. In these dreams, my dad turned into this big white deer with antlers. And my mom made really good food. She would sometimes get mad at my dad for behaving imamturly. (I think that’s how it’s spelt). And dad would call her his flower. Sometimes, some other people would come visit. There was a HUGE man that looked like a giant, and a funny man that looked like Santa but skinnyer. There was also a really nice man that turned into a big black dog that would play with me. Another man came over, I think they called him Moony. They laughed a lot. On my birthday I got lots of funny presents. And a big cake. My dad gave me a big red ball to play with. And mom gave me a stuffed deer and a dog two. The man that turned into a dog that one time gave me a tiny gold ball that flew around in the air. And Moony gave me a book about wizards. I miss my parents. I sometimes wish I was with them. “As you can see,” Mr. Wilson said, “Harry has a very active imagination.” “Yes, he does, doesn’t he,” Petunia said, laughing somewhat shrilly. “Yes, well, the reason I asked you to come here today is because earlier Harry told me something. Given his active imagination, it’s obvious that he made it up.” “What did he say?” Vernon asked gruffly. “Well, he said that you hit him a lot, and that you, Mrs. Dursley, tried to hit him with a frying pan once. He also said that you would lock him up without food sometimes. And his room was the cupboard under the stairs.” Harry, outside the door, was hyperventilating. They were going to kill him for this. Mr. Wilson continued. “Dudley is a fine boy, if a little slow in class, and I see no signs of abuse. I just wanted to warn you about what Harry was saying. I’m not one to stifle a child’s imagination, but Harry does need to be aware of the correct time and place to use it. He needs to be aware of what could have happened if he had told someone else that story. Thankfully it was just me, and knowing what I do about him, I realized immediately that he was making it up.” “Thank you for telling us,” Petunia said. “We will have a talk with him about making up stories.” “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.” Harry ran out to wait by the car. On top of everything else, he didn’t need for the Dursley’s to find out that he’d been listening to their conversation. On their way home, they stopped by the Polkiss' house to drop off Dudley. “Oh, we just have something important to take care of tonight, and we were hoping that you wouldn’t mind looking after Dudley. Piers is such a good friend of his… ” Petunia told Mrs. Polkiss, who readily agreed to take Dudley for the night. When they arrived back at Privet Drive, Harry had his worst beating ever. Luckily for the Dursleys, and not so luckily for Harry, spring break started that day, and Harry wouldn’t be back at school for a week. Just long enough for the bruises to fade, and for Harry’s unnaturalness to fix the broken bones. End Flashback Harry carefully laid his broomstick on top of his clothes after wrapping the bristled end with some old sweaters of Dudley’s. He lowered the lid to his trunk and latched it. “Oy, Harry,” Ron yelled, bursting into the dorm, “It’s almost time for the feast.” The two boys hurried downstairs to join the rest of their friends. - - - The next day the group of eight friends managed to get a compartment together on the train. Harry suspected that the compartments would automatically enlarge big enough for whatever size group that was going to be in them. Harry found himself happily squished between the window and Ginny. Luna sat on Ginny’s other side, and was currently showing Neville an article on water plants in The Quibbler. Ginny had whispered to him that Luna’s father owned the magazine and that it usually had a lot of articles about made up creatures in it. Occasionally though, she said, they had a true article. Harry decided that he might as well get a subscription to The Quibbler for the summer. Anything to read while at the Dursleys would be a welcome relief. Harry snickered to himself when he thought about what Aunt Petunia would say if she ran across a copy of The Quibbler. As they were nearing Kings Cross, Harry remembered something he wanted to ask Ginny. “Ginny, what did you see Percy doing, that he didn’t want you to tell anyone about?” “Oh,” Ginny giggled a little, a smile reminiscent of the twins gracing her face. “He’s got a girlfriend. I walked in on them kissing.” “What!” Fred yelled dropping some books on George’s head. “Oy, watch it!” “Sorry. Who was it, Ginny?” She smirked. “It was that Ravenclaw prefect, the one who was petrified, Penelope Clearwater. He was writing to her all last summer.” Fred looked stunned. “I cannot believe that Percy got a girlfriend before me.” “Some girls go for the bookish types, they think it’s sexy,” Hermione said matter-of-factly, as she turned the page in her History of Magic book. “And I cannot believe that Hermione Granger just used the word sexy,” George said, staring at her in awe. She sniffed haughtily. “Bet you like the bookish types, Hermione,” Ron muttered disgruntled. She sniffed again. “Actually, I’m more attracted to the awkward type.” “Huh,” Ron said in confusion. Harry suspected that he knew the exact type of boy that Hermione liked, or rather, the exact boy she liked. What she said next confirmed it for him. “Apparently, I’m also attracted to the thick type.” Ginny giggled at that, and Hermione rolled her eyes in response. Fred and George smirked. And Neville and Luna remained oblivious to the entire conversation. “I do not understand girls,” Ron said to Harry. “That’s obvious,” Harry responded, smiling. Just then the train began to slow down, and everyone began to gather their things. Fred and George got everyone’s trunks down, and they began to file off of the train. “Oh, Mione,” Harry said, “Hold on a second.” “Yes, Harry, and don’t call me 'Mione'.” Harry sighed. “Alright. Hermione, be patient with Ron, okay. He likes you; he just doesn’t know it yet.” Hermione stared at her feet. “How could he like me and not know it?” she asked sadly. “This is Ron we’re talking about,” he replied. “He followed spiders into the Forbidden Forest, at night, to find out what happened to you. He held your hand and talked to you while you were Petrified. He likes you. He just doesn’t know what his feelings for you mean. How could he? It’s not as if he’s ever liked anyone before.” Harry hitched his bag up on his shoulder better. “Cheer up, Hermione. He’ll figure it out.” “Thanks Harry,” she said, looking a bit more cheerful. They quickly joined the queue to go through the barrier to the Muggle world. When they made it through, they began to search for the group of redheads. “Harry, Hermione! Where did you two run off to?” Ron called out catching their attention. “We just stopped to talk for a second,” Harry explained. “Hello, Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, hugging him the way he imagined his own mother would have. “Hello, Mrs. Weasley,” he smiled up at her. “Now, you have a good summer, dear, and if you need to, you can take the Knight Bus to us at any time,” she said. “Erm, what’s the Knight Bus?” he asked, blushing a little at not knowing. “Oh,” she exclaimed, “I forgot that you wouldn’t know. It’s our bus. All you do is stick your wand out over the road, and that will summon the bus. Be sure to step back though, dear, the driver is a maniac.” “Oh, okay,” he said. Mrs. Weasley hugged him again. “I do mean at any time, dear, even the middle of the night.” “I’ll remember that.” “Good.” She patted him on the cheek and released him. He turned to say goodbye to Neville and Luna, who both had people waiting on them. “Well, goodbye for now you guys,” he said. “Neville, remember what I said, okay. I’ll write you as soon as I’ve made the plans.” “I’ll remember, Harry,” he said. “I gotta go. My gran looks impatient.” “Have a good summer then.” As Neville left, Harry spoke to Luna. “I want to get a subscription to The Quibbler for the summer. How do I do that?” he asked. “Oh, I’ll have Daddy send you an order form. You just fill it out, and send in the two Sickles for the year subscription.” “Thanks, Luna, it’ll be great to have something interesting to read while I’m with the Dursleys.” She smiled vaguely at him. “I’m sure you’ll keep busy,” she murmured. “Well, have a good summer, and don’t let the warty green bumbleshnits get you down.” “Erm, okay, Luna. I’ll remember that,” Harry said, and waved goodbye as she walked away. “Twins,” he said to the Dynamic Duo of Dungbombs. “Happy inventing. I’ll send you the stuff I promised, okay?” “Great,” they said together. Fred leaned in and whispered. “If the Muggles give you any problems, just send us an owl, and we’ll send you some prototypes to…test…on them.” Harry smiled, “Don’t worry, I will.” Ron and Hermione decided that it was their turns next. “Well, Harry, send us some letters, okay. We don’t want a repeat of last summer,” Ron said. “I’ll write. I promise.” Hermione threw herself at him, and squeezed him tighter than even Hagrid could manage. “Do take care of yourself. Be sure you eat enough, we don’t want you to starve to death,” she said, tearing up a bit. “I will, Hermione. If it looks like it’ll be a repeat of last summer, I’ll just leave. Mrs. Weasley told me how to get to the Burrow if I need to,” he said. “Good.” She wiped at her eyes using Ron’s shirt sleeve. “Take care of yourself, mate,” Ron said, grabbing his hand and doing one of those weird secret handshake things. “Okay. Bye, Ron. Bye, Sis,” he said the last word in a softer tone, that unfortunately for him, was still overheard by the entire Weasley clan and the Granger parents. Fred and George made fake gagging sounds. Percy looked impressed. Ginny looked relieved. Ron rolled his eyes good-naturedly. And Mrs. Weasley sniffed, and tried not to cry. Mr. and Mrs. Granger also looked relieved. They had been worried about their daughter’s two best friends being boys, and knowing that at least one of them only felt brotherly feelings toward her eased their minds. Hermione hugged him again quickly, and left with her parents. “Smooth, Potter,” Ginny said, walking up to him while Ron left to talk to Fred and George. The twins had decided to distract him to give Harry and Ginny a moment alone. At least, as alone as they could be in a train station full of people. “Yeah, well,” Harry muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and blushing, “it was the truth. She is like my older sister.” Ginny smiled up at him. “I expect lots of letters from you,” she said. “Already planning on it, Red,” he said, tweaking a bit of her hair. “Don’t go running off with some bloke over the summer.” Ginny sighed. “Fine… but I expect you to make it up to me.” Harry chuckled. “I’ll pay you in chocolate all next school year. Third years get to go to Hogsmeade, you know.” They had built up their easy banter over the three weeks between the Chamber incident and leaving school for the summer. “Seriously though,” Harry said, “I’ll miss talking to you.” “I’ll miss talking to you too, Green-Eyes,” she replied, using her nickname for him. “Later, Red,” Harry muttered. Ginny hugged him quickly and tightly then released him. “Go now. The sooner you go, the sooner I can finish my plans to kidnap you.” “Promise,” he said, walking backwards away from her, and towards the Dursleys. “Promise.” Harry turned around and pushed his cart over to the Dursleys. “Lead the way.” Petunia sniffed haughtily, and began muttering to Vernon about how inconsiderate Harry was for making them wait on him. Dudley remained silent, and simply waddled after his parents. |
| Reviews 46 |
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