Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Moments in Love


by Gandalfs_Beard 0 reviews

Dursleys, Weasleys, and Grangers. Harry already knows how the Dursleys feel about him, but what about the others?

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: G - Genres: Angst,Drama - Characters: Harry,Hermione - Published: 2017-06-11 - Updated: 2017-06-11 - 4817 words


Starving and shivering from weakness as he lay on a bed of straw, Harry looked at the faces in the crowd beyond the cage. Many eyes stared at him as the spectators gawked at the underage wizard. Among the crowd were several people he knew. Aunt Petunia was waving the heavy iron skillet with which she had tried to wallop Harry on the head the other day; Harry had dodged it before being put in the zoo following the Pudding Incident. Uncle Vernon was rolling up his sleeves and balling up his fists.

“Dodge this now Boy,” Uncle Vernon laughed nastily as he waved his fist menacingly.

Dudley chortled and rattled the bars of Harry’s cage.

“Where’s your girlfriend Harry?” taunted Dudley. “Why hasn’t she come to rescue you?”

The strange looking zookeeper with the bat-like ears and long pointy nose goggled at Harry with his enormous bulging eyes.

“Don’t worry sir! Harry Potter is much safer in here!” squeaked the bizarre looking keeper.

A bright spotlight snapped on, glaring in Harry’s eyes. The rumbling murmur of the crowd grew louder as they got a better look at Harry.

“Stop it, leave me alone! I’m trying to sleep,” Harry shouted at the onlookers.

Harry shot bolt upright in bed when he realised that the blindingly bright light was blazing through the bars on the window of his bedroom on the second floor at Number 4 Privet Dr. And the rumbling sounded suspiciously like a car. He hurriedly put on glasses and ran to the window to see what was going on.

Someone WAS goggling at him through the window. Someone with bushy tawny-brown hair, a cute overbite, and big anxious eyes.

“Hermione,” gasped Harry, “What... how...?”

“I told you I’d come and get you if I didn’t hear from you,” said Hermione as she leaned out of the car window. “When Ron told me you hadn’t answered any of his letters either, I asked my parents if they would let me visit the Weasleys. I got there this afternoon and we worked out a plan...”

“...And Dad told us that you’d been sent a warning for doing underage magic outside of school...” said the freckled redhead whose face suddenly appeared next to Hermione’s. “You know you're not supposed to do spells outside school.”

“What about the flying car?” Harry snorted with amusement, “Won’t that get you in trouble?”

Another window rolled down and Fred and George grinned at Harry from the front seats.

“Oh, this...?” chortled George, “This isn’t doing magic. We just borrowed Dad’s car...”

“Mind you, if Mum finds out, we’ll probably be in worse trouble than if the Ministry catches us doing spells...” Fred added. “She’ll probably murder us!”

“Anyway, tie the end of this rope to the bars Harry. We’re breaking you out of here.” George passed Harry the rope, and Harry did as he was told.

Fred revved the motor of the turquoise Ford Anglia. There was a creaking, grinding sound and the bars pulled free of the window; then Ron reeled the bars into the backseat. Harry couldn’t believe that the Dursleys were still asleep.

“Where’s your trunk Harry?” asked George.

“Locked in the cupboard under the stairs,” Harry groaned. “We’ll never get it out without magic.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” snorted George as he pulled a hairpin out of his pocket. George and Hermione leapt through the window into Harry’s room.

“I’ll get your clothes and things together and pass them to Ron,” said Hermione. “You go with George to get your trunk - and hurry, before your relatives wake up.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He heard Uncle Vernon cough as he and George crept silently down the stairs. George jiggled the hairpin in the lock and the cupboard door swung open. Grunting as quietly as possible, Harry and George hauled his trunk and broom back upstairs to Harry’s room. Ron helped George heave Harry’s trunk into the boot, then clambered back into the car.

Harry looked around his room wildly to make sure that they had everything as Hermione climbed back into the backseat. Harry heard Uncle Vernon cough again and grabbed Hedwig’s cage, passing it to Hermione. To his utter horror, Uncle Vernon stood silhouetted in the doorway.

“Bloody Hell!” roared Uncle Vernon as his face turned a violent shade of purple and his moustache bristled, “Petunia, come quickly - he’s getting away.”

Harry had never seen Uncle Vernon move so fast. His uncle dove across the room like a walrus taking flight and grabbed Harry’s ankle. Hermione and Ron pulled with all their might and Harry’s foot slipped out of his uncle’s clutches. Harry slammed the car door and Fred put the car into gear. The motor revved loudly and the car lurched forward out of Vernon’s reach.

Breathing heavily from anxiety and exertion, Harry looked back to see his uncle furiously bellowing and shaking his fist with one hand, and holding one of Harry’s shoes with the other. Uncle Vernon angrily hurled the shoe and it bounced off the rear window with a thump as the car soared into the sky. Harry groaned and peered at the toes poking out of the hole in his threadbare sock.

“I suppose I can get some new shoes in Diagon Alley,” Harry muttered. Hermione was on Harry in an instant, her arms wrapped tightly around him.

“I missed you so much Harry,” she squeaked as Fred and George grinned at each other and winked.

Ron shuffled a bit awkwardly in the seat next to Harry and Hermione, a bemused expression on his face. As the car trundled above the clouds in the moonlight, Harry began to tell Hermione and the Weasleys everything about Dobby stealing the letters and the Pudding Incident which had triggered the Ministry warning.

“I don’t understand why you got blamed for someone else doing magic,” Hermione fumed. “That’s not fair at all.”

“I dunno what that’s all about,” said Ron, looking very puzzled.

“Dad probably knows,” said George. “You can ask him about it later Harry - he works at the Ministry...”

“...In the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.” Fred guffawed. “He’d probably have to arrest himself if he ever raided our house.”

The first pink and gold rays of dawn crept across the clouds as the flying Ford Anglia lit upon a graveled path leading up to the oddest house that Harry had ever seen. There was a rickety wooden sign by the driveway with The Burrow written on it. The house was several stories high and looked even more impossible than the buildings in Diagon Alley, with extra rooms jutting out at odd angles and no visible supports.

“It’s not much,” muttered Ron as he climbed out of the car.

“It’s fantastic,” Harry murmured, squeezing Hermione’s hand as they followed behind him.

The Twins led the way across the front yard past the stirring chickens, whispering to Harry and Hermione to keep quiet.

“We’ll just creep upstairs, and then all come down, and pretend you just arrived in the night...” began Fred.

“Or not...” groaned George when he spotted the stocky, round, red-haired female predator stalking across the front yard with its prey in its deadly sights.

“Oh no!” said Ron.

“Mum!” moaned Fred.

“Do you know how worried I’ve been,” began Mrs Weasley in a deceptively quiet tone. Then the dam burst and the Weasley boys cowered as the raging flood waters washed over them.

“Beds empty! No note! Car gone - out of my mind with worry - did you care? - never, as long as I’ve lived...”

“They had bars on his window!” Hermione shouted with hot tears running down her cheeks, halting Mrs Weasley in mid-stream.“They were keeping Harry prisoner!”

“They were starving him to death Mum!” Ron added in a small voice, taking advantage of his mother’s silence.

Mrs Weasley’s face went from red to white in an instant as the blood drained out and her fury died. She blinked uncertainly and peered at Harry, noting with displeasure that he was almost skin and bone, and that his sock was more hole than fabric. Bars on Harry’s window raised a hundred red flags in her mind.

Ron had only told her before that Harry had never got any presents or new clothes, and that his relatives were a bit mean. Mrs Weasley had thought that Harry looked a bit thin the only two times she had briefly seen him before, but she had considered the possibility that Harry’s family just had a tight budget.

Harry’s uncle had struck Mrs Weasley as a rather nasty sort when they’d briefly met, but after her husband had stopped her from hexing the rude man, she’d had second thoughts. Surely Dumbledore would have never left Harry in a dangerous environment.

But Hermione’s furious pronouncement had just confirmed Mrs Weasley’s worst suspicions, and it seemed that things were far worse for Harry Potter than she could have possibly imagined.

Harry swallowed uncomfortably and looked at his feet as Hermione gripped his hand tightly, her eyes still boring into Ron’s mum. Hermione wanted to tell Mrs Weasley more, but she knew Harry wouldn’t like it.

“Come on then,” Mrs Weasley said kindly after a moment. “Off to bed with the lot of you. I’ll make you all some breakfast after you’ve had a bit of a sleep.” She peered at her sons again. “I’m very glad that you rescued Harry, but next time you go on a rescue mission, please leave a note.”

Mrs Weasley turned around and walked back to the house as everyone slowly followed. The Twins and Ron gaped at Hermione.

“That was amazing,” whispered George.

“I’ve never seen anyone shut her up like that before,” Fred murmured.


Albus Dumbledore peered at the letter he had just taken from Arthur Weasley’s owl and sighed. Not only were things as bad as ever at the Dursley residence, but it appeared that Harry was also unfairly being blamed for an act of underage magic which he hadn’t committed. The situation was growing untenable.

Dumbledore had conferred with Minerva McGonagall at the end of the school-term, and they were both still mulling over options for dealing with the Dursleys. But this new matter with the DMLE was an added stress which Harry didn’t need. For the moment, at least, Harry was safe, and would be until next summer. Which ought to give the Headmaster plenty of time to try and work on a plan for dealing with the Dursleys.

In the meantime, Dumbledore was certain that he could smooth things over with Madam Bones and Cornelius Fudge regarding the house-elf - they both had a soft spot for Harry Potter.


“It’s summer holidays,” Ron said in horror as he watched Harry and Hermione both doing their homework the next morning. “We’re on vacation...”

“Don’t you have any homework too?” Harry asked with a bemused expression, knowing full well that Ron had all of the same classes that he and Hermione did. “I would have mine done already, but the Dursleys locked all my school-stuff under the stairs. Hermione’s just doing some extra reading.”

“Er... well... thoughtI’doitonthetrain...” Ron mumbled.

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. Harry grinned and shook his head.

“Tell you what Ron - I’ve got loads to do still, but I’ll just work until lunch, and then we’ll mess about for the afternoon,” said Harry. “I can always do more after supper before I go to bed. In the meantime, if you’d like, you can borrow my Nimbus 2000.”

“Oh, that’s cool then,” said Ron, his features brightening, “Thanks Harry!”

A few minutes after Ron left the room, Hermione put her book down and gave Harry a hug and a little kiss on the cheek.

“What was that for?” asked Harry, blushing. “Not that I minded” he quickly added.

“For being really sweet,” said Hermione. “And of course you need to make time to be with Ron for a bit too. He’s your friend - it was really nice for him and his brothers to risk getting into trouble to help me rescue you.”

“I wanted to ask Mr and Mrs Weasley for permission, but I knew there would be lots of questions about the Dursleys. And I’d promised you that I wouldn’t tell...”

Harry swallowed; his eyes suddenly stinging.

“I’m sorry!” Harry whispered. “I didn’t mean to put you through that.”

“Don’t be sorry Harry! I’d do it again in an instant for you... You’re my best friend...”

When Hermione paused, Harry could tell that she wanted to say something else, but was feeling uncertain. He waited patiently until she began again.

“When we go to Diagon Alley next week, my parents are going to meet us all in London - they want to meet you...”

It was very unlike Hermione to pause so much during a conversation. He could tell that something was wrong, but he didn’t know what. He only knew that he didn’t like it when Hermione felt bad. Harry wasn’t entirely certain how to make her happy, but he knew that Hermione’s method for cheering him up always made him feel better when he was feeling miserable or anxious.

Harry put his arms around Hermione and hugged her. Then he tentatively gave her a kiss on the cheek, hoping he was doing it right. When Hermione blushed shyly and her face lit up, Harry felt a swooping feeling in his tummy at his success.

“If you don’t want to talk about it - that’s okay Hermione!”

“No, I... I need to tell you...” Hermione responded, steeling herself. “I’m just nervous about it. My parents have always been supportive of me - we’ve always been close, and I’m used to telling them everything...”

“But... but since I’ve been coming to Hogwarts - things are a bit different now... I’m not sure how much to tell Mum and Dad anymore. I’m afraid I might have told them a bit too much about last year...”

When Hermione trailed off sadly again and didn’t continue, Harry thought she looked like she needed another hug and another kiss on the cheek.

Molly Weasley dabbed at her own eyes with a hanky and quietly crept away from the doorway before either of the youngsters noticed her. She had gone to see if they wanted some tea while doing their homework after Ron had gone outside with Harry’s broom, and she had caught most of the conversation - including the bit about how Hermione had wanted to ask for permission to rescue Harry.

It was more than apparent how attached the two were to each other, and how much they already seemed made for each other. It was the sweetest thing Molly had seen in a long time, and she hoped it would eventually blossom into something deeper. Harry deserved a bit of kindness in his life. Molly was really glad that she had told Arthur to send a letter to Dumbledore, warning him about Harry’s dreadful relatives and passing along Harry’s story about the house-elf.

Molly also made a note to herself to keep Arthur on his best behaviour when they met the Grangers next week. It was obvious from what Hermione had said, that her parents were frightened by the magical world, and she didn’t want him to scare Hermione’s parents even more by prattling on about his obsessions with Muggle technology.


“A house-elf? In a muggle residence? Are you certain of this?” Madam Bones, the Head of the DMLE, adjusted her monocle and frowned at the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

“Quite certain Amelia,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “This is Harry Potter we are talking about after all. I trust the boy implicitly. And it is a fact that the Trace is merely a proximity alert to magic being performed in the presence of an underage wizard - it is too imprecise to determine the actual spell-caster. If you wish, I can bring in Mr Potter to provide testimony...”

“That won’t be necessary!” Madam Bones interjected, “But why have you come to me? Surely you could have taken this up with Mafalda Hopkirk’s superior, Dolores Umbridge - the Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office?”

“Because I trust you more than I trust her. To be quite frank, I am not entirely certain that Dolores has the right demeanor for her position, but I can do nothing about that. So I have come to you - Dolores’s superior - to expunge Mr Potter’s record.”

“Very well Albus! I’ll see to it then...” Madam Bones sighed.


The week at the Weasleys flew by, and it had been one of the happiest of Harry’s life. He’d managed to get all of his summer homework done, hug Hermione a bit when nobody was looking, and still had loads of time to read some of Ron’s comics, fly around with the Twins and Ron, play silly games, and watch a garden degnoming.

Harry had to agree with Hermione that the degnoming looked a bit brutal. But they both had a good laugh when they spotted the Gnomes - who looked none the worse for wear - sneak back into the garden the minute the Weasleys turned their backs on them. It seemed more like a game than anything.

Ginny Weasley had been extremely shy the very first day that Harry had arrived. The second afternoon, Ginny had seemed extremely miserable after her mother pulled her aside for a private conversation, and then she had given Hermione a lot of glares when she thought Harry and Hermione weren’t looking.

But Ginny seemed to have finally warmed up by the fourth day and had happily played Exploding Snap with her brothers, Harry, and Hermione.

“She has a bit of a crush on you Harry,” Hermione had whispered in the evening after Ginny had gone to bed. “I think she was a bit cross with me at first... she seems alright with me now though!”

Harry hadn’t been very sure what to make of that.

Percy Weasley had kept to himself, which was fine with everyone except Mrs Weasley. Mr Weasley was affable and funny, and peppered Harry and Hermione with lots of questions about Muggle life and technology whenever Mrs Weasley wasn’t around to stop him. Before Harry knew it, the day for meeting Hermione’s parents and shopping for school supplies in Diagon Alley had arrived.

The trip to Diagon Alley had got off to an inauspicious start. It was the first time that Harry had traveled by Floo, and he decided that he hated it. He’d fallen out of the hearth of a dark little shop on Knockturn Alley which seemed full of interesting antiques, broken his glasses, and ended up all sooty. But the worst bit had been having to hide from Draco Malfoy and his father, who seemed as horrible as Draco himself. They had been selling dark artifacts to the owner of the shop and complaining about Arthur Weasley. Somehow Hermione's name had come up, and Draco had called her a rude word which Harry decided he'd look up later when he got the chance.

Harry had finally managed to get out of the shop without being seen, then Hagrid had found him and delivered him to the Weasleys, who had just met up with the Grangers outside of Gringotts. Harry’s day took a turn for the worse when Mr Granger narrowed his eyes and took in Harry’s disheveled appearance and broken glasses with apparent disapproval. Hermione looked extremely agitated and rushed over to Harry.

“Thank goodness - there you are Harry...” she gave Harry a desperate hug, not minding Harry’s sooty appearance in the least.

Mr Weasley fixed Harry’s glasses with a tap of his wand. Having found Harry, Hermione wasn’t about to let him out of her sight again, so she left her parents in the lobby of the bank with the rest of the Weasleys and Hagrid while she traveled down into the Gringotts vaults with Harry and Mr and Mrs Weasley. Harry found the roller-coaster ride down to the vaults through the caverns as exhilarating as he had the first time, but Hermione looked a bit green when Harry helped her step out of the cart.

Harry felt really bad when he saw how little money was in the Weasley Vault and he tried to offer Mr and Mrs Weasley some galleons for looking after him when he got some money out of his own vault.

“No, no - I won’t hear of it Harry...” said Mr Weasley kindly. “We’re quite alright, really!”

“You’re our guest dear,” Mrs Weasley warmly added.

Hermione looked at Harry with a bit of a misty expression.

“That was very sweet Harry!” she whispered, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as Mr and Mrs Weasley clambered back into the cart for the return trip.

When they returned to the lobby, Mr Weasley insisted on taking the Grangers for a drink in the Leaky Cauldron as Mrs Weasley rolled her eyes.

“Remember what I said Arthur,” she hissed warningly as everyone departed the bank. Shaking her head, she took Ginny off to the secondhand robe shop. “Meet us in Flourish and Blotts in an hour and a half,” Mrs Weasley called out as everyone separated.

The Twins went one way, and Percy another, leaving Harry and Hermione standing in the middle of Diagon Alley with Ron. It was a rather fun hour and a half all in all. Harry insisted on buying everyone ice-creams at Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.

Hermione helped Harry find himself a new pair of shoes and some socks in a shop that sold clothes which looked more like modern muggle fashions. The shop appeared to cater mostly to younger wizards and Ministry employees who had to deal with muggles on a daily basis. Hermione bought Harry a pair of stylish magical Self-Warming Gloves for a late birthday present.

“Thanks Hermione!” Harry beamed when he tried on the cozy gift. “My hands were frozen last winter.”

They finished gathering their school supplies and ended up in Flourish and Blotts a bit early, where they spotted Percy reading a book called Prefects Who Gained Power.

“Percy wants to be Minister one day,” Ron whispered, rolling his eyes.

It was a bit difficult making their way around the shop as it was packed for a book signing with Gilderoy Lockhart, who had written the seven books which they would be using in their Defence Against the Dark Arts Class this year.

“I can’t believe it,” Hermione squealed happily, “we’ll actually be able to meet him!”

Harry grinned, this was the opportunity he’d been looking for. While Hermione was distracted he managed to find a book of famous historical witches and purchase it for her upcoming 13th birthday without her noticing.

But then Lockhart appeared, the Malfoys and the Weasleys arrived, and everything went to hell.

Oddly enough, out of all of the ensuing mayhem, one exchange kept rolling over in Harry’s mind. Ginny had pushed her way through the crowd to confront Draco Malfoy when he had been taunting Harry, dragging her cauldron full of the books which Harry had just given her. But Hermione had got there first, already furious about the way Lockhart had ambushed Harry.

“Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that!” Hermione had said, glaring at Malfoy.

Draco's childish playground retort had echoed Dudley's taunts.

“Potter, you’ve got yourself a girlfriend!” Malfoy had drawled.

For the first time ever, Harry hadn’t responded to a Malfoy taunt - not even in his own mind. In fact, Harry was having a hard time discerning why exactly that having a girlfriend might be perceived as an insult.


Hermione was crying her eyes out by the time everything was all over as her parents quickly departed, no longer interested in spending one more minute in Diagon Alley or meeting Harry properly. Her father gave Harry one more glower as he dragged his forlorn wife out of the Leaky Cauldron. Mrs Granger looked back and silently mouthed “I’m sorry,” at Hermione just before the door to the muggle world slammed shut.

Mrs Weasley was still reading her husband the riot act for getting in a fight with Lucius Malfoy and frightening the Grangers when they got back to the Burrow. Percy, Ginny, the Twins, and Ron, all fled to their rooms to avoid the blowout!


“But Molly...”

“Did you see the looks on their faces? - They were terrified! - That poor girl - Her parents will probably never step foot in the wizard world again! And you call yourself a Muggle-Supporter?...”

“But I was defending them...”

“You have a funny way of showing it... punching Mouthy Malfoy when that cretin tried to insult you by comparing you to the ‘company you keep’ - how do you think the Grangers took that? Well...? How would you feel if the situation were reversed?”


“That’s right... ‘Oh’...!”

Harry strolled with Hermione through the Weasleys’ orchard and found a quiet place on the other side of the trees far away from everyone. Looking out across the fields, copses, and rolling sun-kissed hills of late summer, they could see the steeple of the village church in the distance. Harry put his arm around Hermione; they sat with their backs to an apple tree and she leaned into his shoulder, sobbing.

“I’m sorry about all that Hermione - if I hadn’t let Lockhart drag me into the spotlight...”

“It’s not your fault Harry,” she sniffled. “You didn’t do anything wrong... You were the only one who didn’t do anything wrong. Lockhart was a smarmy arrogant pretentious prat looking for a photo-op with you to sell more books...”

“I can’t believe he’s going to be our DADA teacher this year - and to think that I actually liked him!” Hermione huffed angrily. Harry started to feel a bit better.

“And Mr Malfoy is just as horrid and revolting as his son - saying all those awful things - I don’t blame Mr Weasley really for getting upset, but he did throw the first punch instead of coming up with a clever retort... and my father was just looking for an excuse to get out of there and hate you anyway.”

“But why Hermione? I don’t understand why your dad hates me - he never even got to meet me really.”

“I don’t really understand either Harry. I wrote lots of letters to my parents last year telling them how NICE you are to me, how you were the first friend that I’ve ever had - my BEST friend. I told them a bit about you - not too much though - just that you grew up without friends like me, how you didn’t know you were a wizard because your parents died when you were young...”

“I told them how smart, and kind, and brave you are... and... and I might have mentioned a bit too much about some of the things that happened at school, like the troll - I told them how you saved me - and I told them about the dragon and how we helped Hagrid...”

“I started to suspect from the tone of the letters I got back that it might be better not to tell them about Voldemort and going after the Philosopher’s Stone. But then Mum - she always could tell when I was holding back or lying about something, because I almost never keep secrets from my parents... But she didn’t push me to tell her like she usually does if she thinks I’m not telling her something - it’s almost like she doesn’t want to know...”

“I think they’re both just scared of the magical world really - Mum tries a bit harder to be supportive - so that I think I understand... But I have no idea why Dad hates you!”
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