FicWad

This chapter is rather boring but it sets the stage for the rest of the summer that is going to be considerably more active beginning in the next chapter.

Once again, any suggestions or ideas, I’d love to hear them so leave a review.



The Real Harry Potter

Chapter Two



Harry felt like he could sleep till the world came to an end but unfortunately a constant tapping was slowly pulling him into the waking world. He tried ignoring it but it was no use. The muscles in his stomach, chest and back screamed in protest as he rolled over with a loud groan. Looking at the clock on his desk told him that it was nearing eight o’clock in the evening. His plans to simply go back to sleep were dashed as that infuriating tapping started again. Cursing, he rolled out of bed and looked towards the window to see a familiar smoky grey barn owl. Shaking his head to wake himself up a bit more, Harry opened the window and let the damn bird in.

“Take a rest on Hedwig’s perch while I read this, Claude, but if she comes back while you’re still here, well, you’re on your own.” Harry was amused that he could actually hear the fear when ‘Claude’ replied with short barking hoot. Choosing to forgo rest after his long flight, Claude shot right back out the window as fast as his wings could carry him. Hedwig was a sweet owl but there was just something about Claude that really pissed her off. Chuckling to himself, Harry tore open the letter and began to read. What little there was to read.

Peeping Tom’s busy: 8:00

Looking over at the clock again, he saw that he only had a little over ten minutes. Moving to his trunk, he dug through his various potions as he weighed his options. He could go. Or go back to sleep. Unfortunately if he did go back to bed he would no doubt never here the end of it. Besides, as bad as he feels, he might still have a bit of fun.

Finding what few healing potions he had, he quickly drank each of them as well as his last energy restorer. They certainly wouldn’t take away all the pain but they’ll do for now. Grabbing a pair of jeans and the black silk shirt he bought earlier in the summer, he rushed to bathroom to take a quick shower.

Sadly, he wasn’t quick enough to be completely prepared. As he was sitting down to tie his shoes, the bloody portkey activated and after a nauseating trip, he landed roughly on the hardwood floor of a well kept apartment.

“Bloody fucking hell!” Harry cursed just before a pair of strong hands grabbed him and pulled him to his feet.

“That was a pretty spectacular landing, even for you, Potter.”

“Piss off, Oliver.” He snapped at his smirking former Quidditch captain. “Did you people have to pick tonight?”

“My, aren’t you in a snit. What’s wrong with you, you’re looking a little rough?”

“Six straight hours of sex will do that to you. God, I feel like shit.” Harry replied after taking a moment to stretch. Oliver just blinked at Harry several times, as if he were speaking in a foreign language and didn’t understand a word he had just said.

“Did you just say six HOURS?”

“Yes, and take it from me, it IS as fun as it sounds but, Sweet Merlin, it sucks to be you after you’re finished. I think I pulled just about every muscle in my body.”

“How did you manage that?” Oliver asked with a look of awe on his face.

“Liberal use of energy potions. Oh, by the way, I think Hedwig is going to try to kill Claude if you guys keep using him.”

“Why do you think we keep sending him?” Harry spun around and saw the twins, Angelina, Katie and Alicia lounging on the various couches and chairs, looking back at him with big smiles on their faces. Seeing the look in the twins’ eyes caused him to groan.

“So, six hours?”

“Bugger off, Fred.”

“I’m not Fred, he is.”

“No, you are.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because your right eye twitches slightly when you’re joking around while George’s left eye twitches. Of course, that’s only one way to tell the difference. I’ve noticed many others.” Fred and George gazed at Harry for a moment before turning to each other.

“It would seem, twin of mine, that we are becoming far too predictable.”

“We can’t have that, now can we?”

“Certainly not. So, what do we do about it?”

“We could always kill Harry so that he can’t spread any more of our secrets.”

“So true, but then we would have to kill all the witnesses, and Angelina scares us.”

“Memory charms?”

“Would never work. It’s five against two and even if we could dispatch the weak links, we are still left with Harry and Angelina and as previously stated, she scares us.”

“Little Harry is turning out to be a right bastard as well.”

“Well, we could always seduce him to keep him quiet.”

“Six hours, dear brother. Is your bum really up for that sort of dedication?”

“Hmm, you may have a point. Perhaps if we asked him nicely?”

“You know, that is so ridiculous that it just might work.” With a nod, they turned back to Harry who was looking distinctly amused, although he was a little green at the idea of the twins trying to seduce him.

“So, Harry…”

“…would it be too much to ask…”

“…to keep any further observations…”

“…to yourself?”

“I’ve kept them to myself since first year, why wouldn’t I continue doing so?” Harry responded with a smile.

“And yet you informed the rest of the team about the eye twitching.” George pointed out.

“You asked me a direct question and I answered truthfully.” Harry corrected. “I told you how I could tell the difference between you two, it wasn’t my fault that others were present at the time. If you didn’t want them to know as well, you should have asked me privately.”

“In that case, old buddy, would you be a good friend and aid us in performing the necessary memory charms on the rest of these other miscreants? We will require you to deal with the lovely Angelina, of course.”

“It is for a good cause. We can’t have everyone knowing our secrets, after all.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Harry began after a moments thought. “I’ll keep Oliver, Alicia and Katie occupied while the two of you handle Angelina yourselves. If you last at least a minute before one of you is castrated, I’ll jump in and help.”

“Why castrated?” Fred asked nervously. Surely good ol’ Harry wouldn’t sit by and let something so diabolical happen to his good friends.

“Why?” Harry asked incredulously. “You’re talking about using memory charms and you weren’t paying attention to the ones you intend to use them on? Granted, Oliver, Alicia and Katie know that you’re joking and would never do something like that, at least not to them. But look where Angelina’s wand is pointed. She also knows your joking as well but she isn’t taking any chances.” Snapping their heads to the side, they saw Angelina smirking at them from her seat a few feet away with her wand pointed right between Fred’s legs.

“She had a wand pointed at my twig and berries and you didn’t tell me?”

“I thought I just did, but as you said, Angelina’s scary. Besides, it was your fault for talking about memory charms so you were on your own. Granted, if she had really castrated you, I would have done the honorable thing and stunned you so you wouldn’t have had to suffer the pain until we got you to a healer. You are my friends after all, and that’s a new kind of hurt right there.”

“You know, Harry,” George spoke up while he tapped his chin in speculation. “The more twisted you become, the more I start to think that you are our long lost twin.”

“Err…triplet.”

“That just happens to be a couple years younger.”

“And shorter.”

“Without red hair.”

“And not so good looking.”

“Alright you two, knock it off, will you.” Oliver broke in before handing Harry a neon purple potion. “Here, take this. I usually use it after a particularly brutal practice but I guess it could be used in your… situation.” Not bothering to even find out what was in it, Harry just threw it back and cringed at the extremely bitter taste.

“Err…don’t you want to know what that was?” Katie asked, looking at Harry in confusion.

“Who cares what it was? Either it’ll help, or it’ll kill me, not real sure which I’d prefer right now.” Tossing the empty vial back to Oliver, Harry plopped himself down into one of his leather armchairs. “So, what are we doing and why did it have to be tonight?”

“As Fred and George stated in their note, Moody is busy tonight,” Angelina spoke up as Harry visibly relaxed. Apparently that potion was doing the trick. “So anyone watching your house won’t be able to tell if you were there or not unless they actually went inside to check for themselves. As for what we’re doing, we haven’t decided yet.”

“Foooooooooood.” Harry moaned in a ghoulish sort of way before looking over his more curvaceous former team captain. Specifically, the long legs sticking out of her skirt. It was knee length but the way she was sitting gave him a very nice view almost all the way up her thighs. “Speaking of which, you’re looking particularly tasty tonight, Angelina.”

“You’re not looking so bad yourself, Harry.” She replied with a slight smirk. Everyone else was looking back and forth between them in confusion. While they had gotten together twice this summer already, Harry’s apparently new attitude was still a bit strange to them. Though it was a great deal more fun than his previous attitude which could be a bit depressing at times. His flirtatious nature made for some amusing sights. Seeing him apparently trying to talk the knickers off of a forty plus year old stock broker the first night they went out shortly after the end of the school year was quite the sight. Especially since it looked like he was succeeding until her irate husband suddenly showed up. She had some serious explaining to do there and Harry decided that a strategic withdrawal was in order.

“Err… is there something going on between you two?” Alicia asked, sounding every bit like Lavender Brown. None of the old team, as Oliver liked to call them, were really into gossip in general, but when it concerned another member of their little group, they were certainly interested in whatever may be going on but they didn’t talk about each other behind their backs. If it was something you wouldn’t want being brought up about you in front of the rest of the group, it was a topic that wasn’t to be brought up privately, period. Not to say that they didn’t keep secrets from each other, but they didn’t pass on speculation or rumor about each other.

“Nothing serious. Just having a bit of fun.” Angelina answered truthfully. That could be taken one of many different ways, from innocent flirting to something more involved. In truth, Angelina was the first girl Harry had been with, even before his ‘tutoring’ started. It was just an on/off thing that started the middle of Harry’s fourth year. Without Quidditch that year, Angelina was bored and she thought Harry could use a little break from stress created by the Tri-Wizard Tournament. They only had sex three times that year but the following year was much more active with Harry relieving a lot of the stress she was under as captain of the team. They thought that as Harry was a major source of her stress that he be the one to relieve it. Something they both very much enjoyed. It certainly made for some pretty interesting encounters. She, of course, was one of only two girls he had never used a memory charm on.

“Okay.” Katie spoke up slowly, clearly wanting to know more. It had been a running joke between the three girls for a couple years now which one of them would find out if Harry was as skilled in other areas as he was with Quidditch but it was clear neither Angelina or Harry would give a more descriptive answer, which lead to many interesting thoughts, so they dropped that line of questioning.

“OH,” George piped up as he started digging through is pockets. “Got this fixed for you, Harry.” Taking the small card, Harry looked it over for any differences in his uncle’s own identification card, apart from the obvious picture and personal information.

“It looks perfect, thanks.” The first time they went out, everything had gone off without a hitch. The last time, unfortunately, did not go as smooth. Bloody bartender must have had the eye of an eagle and spotted the card as a fake.

“So, have your relatives given you a hard time?”

“Do you need a sample of some of our newest creations?”

“We would be most appreciative if you could test them and give us a comprehensive report on them.”

“Especially any unplanned and unintended side effects that are interesting enough to include in advertisements.”

“No, they haven’t. We’ve seemed to have come to an unspoken agreement to just stay away from each other as much as possible. I don’t think I’ve even spoken two words to them in a few weeks now. No sense ruining the peace and quiet I’m currently enjoying just to play a few pranks on them. But, let me know what you’ve come up with and I’m sure my family will volunteer their services towards the end of my stay there.”

An hour later, they was entering a bar and grill when they were accosted by a small group of protesters outside the door. Why one would choose to mount a protest outside a small out of the way pub of all places was unknown, after all, the point would be to make your objections known to as many people as possible, but their message was very clear. Ridiculous signs proclaiming ‘meat is murder’ and other such nonsense. Loudly shouting that god would strike them down for their carnivorous ways was also difficult to ignore.

“If god didn’t want us to eat meat, then why did he make it so delicious?” Harry asked with a perfectly straight face, drawing a laugh from his friends as well as the others waiting to get in. The protesters stood there glaring at him as if he were some disgusting little bug. Giving them a cheery wave, Harry went inside, intent on ordering the biggest stake he could just to spite them. Luckily, they were able to get a good table and the waiter was quick to bring them their drinks, after going over just about every detail of Harry’s identification card of course.

“So, Harry,” Oliver began after discreetly placing charms to make sure any muggles nearby would only hear a normal conversation. “What do you think Gryffindor’s chances are going to be this year?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Well, the only real choices for captain this year are you and Katie and she apparently doesn’t want it, so that leaves you. Keep in mind that when answering such questions it’s expected for you to be optimistic.” Oliver explained with a smile. Harry wasn’t quite sure what he thought of being Quidditch captain but he was certain about his thoughts on the team’s future.

“Honestly, I think Gryffindor has seen its last Quidditch Cup for a while.”

“Err… Harry, I think you may have misunderstood me. I said optimistic, not pessimistic.”

“Optimism, pessimism, it doesn’t change the facts. With you gone, Oliver, and Fred, George and myself booted off the team last year, Gryffindor won on luck alone, no offense girls, but that’s a fact. We had a great squad of chasers, an alright seeker and beaters and a keeper that weren’t worth shit. Gryffindor was the worst team in the school last year but they got lucky, plain and simple.” Far from being offended, Angelina, Alicia and Katie were nodding in agreement.

“This year will be worse. Fred and George are gone permanently now so we’re stuck with two mediocre beaters and no other real options for the position. With Angelina and Alicia gone as well, the power of our chasers is gone. Katie is a great player and we can find people that can play the other two spots with her but the way these three could work together at such a level simply can’t be replaced, especially not with people that have no experience.”

“Katie did perfectly well her first year on the team, Harry, and I was only a reserve the year before that so we were both really new to playing every game. It’s not outside the bounds of possibility that you won’t have the same luck finding replacements.” Alicia pointed out.

“Ah, but as you said, you had been a reserve the year before, you already knew Angelina and had practiced with her extensively that year because you were going to be a starter the next year. You also had at least some playing time in every game that year so you had experience. So you had the two of you taking care of one inexperienced player. That’s much easier than having one experienced player getting two new ones up to speed when they’ve never played together before. I have full confidence in Katie’s abilities but that’s a petty steep hill to climb right there. Even if we can find skilled players, it will be next to impossible to recreate the chemistry that the three of you had on the pitch and that has been our strength for the last five years.”

“He’s right, you know. I’m sure I can teach the younger players but I also have to point out that all of my experience playing has been with you and Angelina. As good as Harry says I am, even I’m going to be off my game this year while I get used to playing with someone new.” Katie spoke up truthfully.

“I’m guessing, that at best, our chaser squad is going to be floundering for at least the first half of the season, if they get it together at all. The beaters probably won’t get any better and don’t even get me started on Ron’s performance. Ginny, while doing fairly well as a replacement seeker, I doubt she will be on the team again this year. She will be too busy with her other pursuits to work out as a decent chaser. She would have to devote too much time for studying plays, learning to coordinate with the other chasers not to mention learn how to play on defense. She has other things she wants to be doing.”

“Speaking of which, Harry, that is something we wanted to talk to you about.” Fred spoke up uncomfortably. “With only Ron left at Hogwarts, we were hoping you would…”

“Absolutely not.” Harry broke in, shaking his head strongly. “I already told you, I’m not getting involved, period. Besides, my involvement would certainly give off the wrong message, don’t you think?” They were in no way happy with his response but they grudgingly accepted it. Despite his close relationship with their family, Harry was not a Weasley and he wasn’t going to put himself into the middle of what was a family matter. Besides which, he was probably right. Him getting involved could make things much worse.

“So, Ollie, how is Puddlemere treating you?” Katie asked, steering the conversation to another topic, which everyone, especially Harry, was grateful for.

“It’s the same as when I signed last year. I’m a reserve with absolutely no chance of getting any playing time. My coach just happens to be Marcus Flint’s uncle. He seems to find having the former captain of Gryffindor doing nothing but sitting on the bench amusing. Technically, I’m the number one reserve but when Carter got injured a few months ago, he started the number two reserve, Ray Winston, for each of the five games Carter was out. Despite the fact that Ray gave up more goals in those five games then the team gave up all of last season, the coach has been acting pretty smug towards me since. Said that he had at least one Gryffindor that knew his proper place.”

“That’s…depressing.” Alicia just couldn’t imagine her longtime teammate sitting out any game, much less all of them. True, no player could expect to be made a starter when they first enter the league but to sign him as the number two keeper and then just ignore his talent for an entire year is ridiculous. Hell, on any other team reserves could expect to play at least twenty percent of the time.

“It’s not so bad really. His actions and the fact that Puddlemere got decimated because of them got the attention of the rest of the league and sports analysts. There all wondering why they’re refusing to allow a former number one prospect play. Several teams have contacted my agent already with offers for when my contract is up and team management is looking into possible trades. It looks like the Tornados, Bats and Wanderers are interested in trading their number two keepers for me. Of course, I’ll still be a reserve but at least with any of those teams I’d get the chance to play every once in a while and that could open up a starting position for me down the road somewhere.”

“Eh, you strike me more as Harpy material.” Harry smirked around his mug of Guinness. Angelina and the twins started laughing loudly while their other three companions where looking at Harry in surprise. Though they had been out together twice already, they were still unaccustomed to Harry’s sarcastic attitude. Angelina had known about him for quite a while now and the twins just thought it was funny.

“What, Oliver?” Harry asked in an offhand manner. “You have to admit that whenever Gryffindor lost a game you pouted more than any little girl around. I think you’d make a perfect addition to a team made up of women.”

“This would normally be the point were I’d throw whatever food was on the table at you.”

“Then it’s a good thing there is no food on the table, because that would be a waste and I’m hungry.”

“Yes, I’m sure all of your exercise today has left you famished and completely knackered.” Angelina teased from beside him.

“I assure you, my dear, that despite appearances to the contrary, I am at one hundred percent. I merely need to fill up the tank as they say.” To emphasize his point, Harry slipped his hand up her leg slowly until he reached the hem of her skirt.

“So, what’s the point of sending Claude to me each time if you know Hedwig hates him?” Harry asked innocently as his finger tips lightly tickled Angelina’s thigh before continuing further up. She of course showed no outward sign that anything was out of the ordinary. She and Harry had a great deal of experience at doing such things while others were around. Whether it be at the Gryffindor table during meals, in the common room or dressing room talking Quidditch, or even in the stands while other teams were playing.

“Apparently the Stupid Twins find scared owls to be funny.” Oliver explained with a scowl. “When he came back from delivering that first note to you, he looked like he was about to have a stroke or something and hid under my bed all the next day. Someone even mentions your name now and he starts shaking. They want to see how long it takes before he cracks.”

“And the thought of using another owl didn’t cross your mind?” Harry asked just as his fingers bushed the lacy fabric of Angelina’s knickers.

“I don’t have access to another one, not one I would trust anyway.” Oliver defended himself. “The twins refuse to send the portkeys with their owls, Katie and Alicia don’t have their own and Angelina said I could use Hector only if he agrees.”

“And?”

“Blasted owl just glares at me. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Either that or he doesn’t like Claude either and is hoping that Hedwig offs him.” Alicia giggled.

“That’s another thing. Why does Hedwig hate my owl? He’s never done anything to her.”

“Well, to address you first concern, it might not be that Hector doesn’t like you, it’s just that he’s a smart owl and is probably afraid of Hedwig as well.”

“But, to ask Ollie’s question again, why doesn’t she like Claude and Hector?” Angelina spoke up, shivering ever so slightly as Harry gently pushed aside her panties and began rubbing her clit. “She seemed perfectly fine with him when he delivered the couple of letters I wrote to you last summer but this year…”

“And how is this summer different from last?” Harry asked with a serious look on his face. Enjoying rubbing his fingers over the silky wetness of her pussy, Harry was by no means surprised when he felt himself growing hard. He may have had a very intense sexual experience not too long ago, but he was a very hormonal sixteen year old and Angelina could make him hard no matter what state he was in.

“Hedwig was perfectly fine with Hector last year because he was delivering letters, just as she was. This year is different because people are sending me portkeys. She is very protective of me and no doubt would want me to stay where it is safe, or at least take her along so that she could keep an eye on me. She sees Claude as a possible threat to my safety. She sees all of you as possible threats to my safety for bringing me out with you.” Harry explained when everyone else just looked confused by his question. While he answered their question, they only seemed to get more confused.

“Err…Harry, she’s just an owl.” Fred pointed out as if Harry were a particularly simple child. “How would she know what a portkey is, where it takes you or who you are with? Hector never delivered a portkey so why would Hedwig hate him for something Claude delivered?”

“Just an owl, huh? Turn around, look out the window and tell me what you see?” Harry asked with a smile. Everyone turned to look out the window that was situated right behind Fred and George and looked around. While she was looking, Angelina discreetly shifted closer to Harry and spread her legs to give him more room to work with. She was rewarded almost immediately when he slipped two fingers into her, using the palm of his hand to continue rubbing her clit.

“Um, is that Hedwig on that lamppost?” Katie asked a bit nervously. Even from across the street they could all clearly see the snowy owl glaring at them through the window.

“Yup, she got here just a few minutes after we did. Trust me, the other times we went out, she was there to. And keep in mind that she wasn’t anywhere near the Dursleys’ home when that portkey arrived or when it activated. Wherever she was, she somehow knew that I had left and where I went. Still just an owl?”

“That’s creepy.” Oliver muttered to himself.

“Alright, that could explain why she would think we’re a threat, or she just could just be pissy. She doesn’t much like Pig either and Ron isn’t a threat.”

“No, Hedwig found Pig to be an annoyance, nothing more, until my forth year when Ron had his first major fit of jealousy. Now when Pig is near, she looks like she’s going to eat him. She’ll still deliver letters to Ron, but she’s rather standoffish and hostile towards him.”

“Harry,” Alicia asked with a thoughtful look on her face. “How do you know what Hedwig seems to think of us? I mean, you seem to think she hates us but how do you know or are you guessing?”

“First of all, I never said she hated you, in fact she likes all of you, she just sees you as a possible threat. Although she obviously put the fear of god into Hector, she doesn’t hate him because thus far, he hasn’t done anything but deliver harmless letters and as long as he continues doing so, they will not have a problem. Judging by the fact that he refused to deliver the portkey when you asked him to, he apparently took whatever warning Hedwig gave him to heart. However, she does hate Claude for his apparent stupidity for continuing to deliver the portkeys after her first warning, he will not get another. She will either injure him severely until he gets the point or she will kill him so I suggest you find a new means of delivery. As for how I know, I’m not really sure. It’s just a feeling. Kind of like how I knew she had been following me on these little trips even though she stayed out of sight, like knowing that she was here before I even saw her on that lamppost. I suspect that the only reason she hasn’t expressed her displeasure with me concerning these little excursions of ours in a more painful manner is because we stick solely to the muggle world were I won’t be recognized.”

“I suppose it’s possible that it could be some sort of familiar bond.” Alicia mused out loud.

“No, I already looked into that.” Harry shook his head to cover the sight of the corners of his lips quirking up slightly as Angelina’s thighs tightened around his hand. “Familiar bonds are exclusive with magical animals. The only thing I can think of is it’s some kind of weird talent like Parseltongue, only more exclusive. Instead of understanding all birds or owls, just certain ones. Not necessarily specific to the breed but maybe a bird with a certain understanding or… shit, I don’t know.”

“Maybe an empathic connection or something…heads up.” Katie warned them as a few waiters approached with several trays. Once they were at the table Oliver’s clever little charms wouldn’t mean shit and they would be able to hear and understand everything they were saying. They would no doubt think they were all a bunch of whackos so why make things difficult.

As his very large t-bone stake was laid out in front of him, Harry pulled his hand out from Angelina’s skirt, much to her chagrin, she was so close. As everyone was diving into their meal with various degrees of manners, Harry smirked at her slightly before sucking his fingers into his mouth.

“Hmmm…tasty.” Looking down at his plate he almost sighed. No matter how good it was there was no way that that piece of meat could compare to what he just sampled. Oh well, waste not, want not, and all that.

So far, Harry had enjoyed these outings with his former teammates a great deal. Even something as mundane as going out to dinner turned into a great deal of fun. Looking around the table, he was a little discouraged that Hermione and Ron couldn’t be there but Ron couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life and he wasn’t so sure if Hermione could be trusted not to let Dumbledore know. No doubt thinking that he was taking to many liberties with his safety when there were a great many people out there just waiting for an opportunity to kill him. Either Hermione’s highhanded attempts to keep him safe or Ron’s loose lips would surely spell the end of his surprisingly enjoyable summer when Dumbledore decided to lock him down tighter than he already was. Besides, he wasn’t quite sure where his friends stood.

Ron always sent few letters during the summer and they were always rather impersonal so he wasn’t really worried that he hadn’t heard from him but a few times. That was just the way he was. Hermione, however, seemed to be going out of her way to avoid any communication this year. And what little he did have with her was about as informative and relevant as one of Binns’ lectures. He wasn’t particularly sure what was going on with her but he wouldn’t put it past Dumbledore and the Order from keeping his friends from contacting him as they did last summer.

He was pretty surprised, and very grateful, when Oliver came up with this little idea of his and it was a relief to be able to just hang out with people whose company he enjoyed with the conversation eventually drifting towards Voldemort, whatever plot he might be thinking up next and what Dumbledore would eventually do about it. In truth, Harry didn’t have much faith in Dumbledore, in either his ability to lead this fight against Voldemort or even his ability to keep Hogwarts safe.

That’s not to say that he questioned the man’s motives or intentions, he just didn’t think that the old man was up to the task. The intrigue and danger of his first five years at Hogwarts had proven that the man was obviously slipping where his judgment was concerned. Shaking his head, Harry cast these thoughts from his mind for the time being and resolved to enjoy himself as much as possible before he returned to his place of exile.

“Here you go, Harry.” Angelina said as she handed him a blank sheet of parchment after they made it back to Oliver’s apartment. “We’ll be sure to let you know when we can all get together again.” The slight smirk on her face as well as the wink told him plainly that the next time they got together she had no intention of including the rest of their group, which was perfectly alright with him. He did owe her after all. He could feel her frustration all through dinner and they did have an opportunity to sneak off alone for him to do the job properly, not that he found it to be an inconvenience, Angelina was after all an extremely hot woman and she fucked like a minx. After saying his goodbyes to his friends, Harry activated the portkey and after climbing to his feet, gave a quiet sigh as he looked around his room.


XXX


Waking up three days later, Harry decided that he might as well dispose of Lucius permanently. Before the Dursleys got up for the day, he retrieved the egg sized marble from his school trunk he headed down stairs to the basement since even Moody’s eye wouldn’t be able to penetrate that much packed earth plus the house’s walls and foundation.

Casting a locking spell on the door, just incase, he undid his transfiguration work and grinned maliciously as the marble returned to its original state. While he in no way thrived off of the pain and death of others, just the thought of Lucius Malfoy being taken out of this world made him giddy. The fact that he was the one to do it was inconsequential really. Just as he began to lean down towards the man’s left hand, Harry suddenly stopped and looked down at the Malfoy family ring with caution. While it appeared perfectly safe, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

Grabbing two of uncle Vernon’s screwdrivers, Harry used those to slowly work the ring off the dead man’s finger. His caution was proven well warranted when the ring came loose and vanished with a slight pop. The screwdrivers, both of which had been touching the ring at the time, rapidly began disintegrating. Dropping them as quickly as he could, he breathed a sigh of relief when nothing but ash hit the ground. He didn’t know what would have happened to him if he had still been holding them when those nasty effects had reached the handles but despite his rather high level of curiosity, this was one instance where he was perfectly at ease not knowing.

Cringing slightly as he looked down at what remained of his tools, Harry quickly transfigured Lucius once again. He chose to simply smash the marble, since it would make it impossible to return it to its original form, and cast the broken pieces, small bits of rock and dust mostly, into the dust bin and put it out to be taken away later today. Magically speaking, that was all it was now so any scans would come up empty even should someone show up today specifically to look for whatever may have happened to Lucius.

Satisfied with his work, Harry grabbed a couple pieces of fruit for his breakfast before going back upstairs. It was just three days before his sixteenth birthday and Harry had received word the day before that Dumbledore had arranged for him to spend the rest of the summer with the Weasleys and would be picking him up on the first of August. He wasn’t particularly sure how he really felt about that. He cared for the Weasleys more than just about anyone else but after the year he had, he was enjoying the relatively quiet atmosphere at Privet Drive since his family had gone out of their way to avoid him. One thing that could be said about the Burrow was that it was defiantly never quiet.

However, that didn’t necessarily mean that he wanted to be isolated from his friends. That was why he started digging through his trunk looking for the scrap of parchment that he had scribbled Hermione’s phone number and address on. While writing letters was all well and good, actually talking to his friend on the phone was much more convenient. Apart from the obvious psychological need to see if Hermione was truly alright by judging the sound of her voice, this way he didn’t have to wait a day or two to receive her response that he doubted would come.

He would have liked to speak to Ron as well but the few letters he had received thus far indicated that he was perfectly fine. Hermione, however, was a very different story. He had received only one letter so far and it had been very short and emotionless. The state of her handwriting left him worried as well as it was rather sloppy and harsh at times, as if it were rushed, something she normally would never allow herself to do. He supposed that she could possibly be trying to distance herself from him after the fiasco in the Ministry of Magic given that she had almost died in that attack, but he didn’t think that that was the case. From the time that they returned from the Ministry up until they left Kings Cross Station, she seemed alright. Returning to his earlier thoughts of the Order possibly advising her to keep any communication to a minimum, he would have thought that she would have at least given him a reason should that have been the case but for the most part it seemed that she simply ignored his every attempt to get into contact with her. He hoped that calling her on the phone would at least give him an answer even if it was one he didn’t want to hear.

After finding the parchment he was looking for, Harry punched the number into the phone and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help feeling nervous as he waited for someone on the other end to pick up. It didn’t take long but it felt like an eternity and that more than anything else got Harry thinking that something was seriously wrong. His instincts were usually pretty good but this was one of the few times that he hoped that they were wrong.

“He… Hello!”

“Hermione, is that you?” He asked in a worried tone.

“Harry?”

“Yes, its me, what’s wrong?” Almost immediately he could hear her burst into tears as she began to babble quietly. Due to her low voice, crying and interspersed gasping, he couldn’t make out a word of what she was saying.

“Hold on, I’ll be there in a few minutes!” Harry told her after failing to calm her down. After hanging up the phone, he rushed up the stairs and dug his money pouch out of his trunk. After thinking for a moment, he quickly threw everything that was about the room inside before shrinking the trunk down and putting it in his pocket.

“Hedwig, wake up, girl.” The snowy owl opened her eyes and glared at him but hopped out of her cage nonetheless, allowing him to shrink that as well. “Meet me at Hermione’s, Hedwig. If I’m already gone before you get there, well, I’m sure you can find me. Don’t let anyone see you.” Hedwig actually looked insulted by his final cautionary instruction but simply hooted before flying out the window. Despite the fact that she certainly stands out among just about any background, Hedwig was surprising adapt at going unnoticed unless she wants to be seen, such as making Harry uncomfortable when he’s doing something she thinks he shouldn’t. Shaking his head slightly, he ran back downstairs and headed out the front door. Once he reached the street, he raised his wand and waited for a moment.

“Stop right there!” Harry spun around to find Dedalus Diggle remove his invisibility cloak. “I’m sorry, Harry, but you can’t leave this property. Dumbledore’s orders.” Just as he said this a loud bang echoed over the street as the large purple Knight Bus suddenly appeared and screeched to a halt right in front of Harry. Not wanting to take the time to argue his case, which he would no doubt lose, Harry simply punched the man in the nose and jumped on the bus just as the conductor, Stan Shunpike, began his usual ‘welcome to the Knight Bus’ speech.

“QUIET!” Harry snapped irritably, cutting the man off before he was half finished. “I need to get to 1494 Aberdeen Road in Oxford.”

“Very well.” Stan grunted in annoyance at Harry rudeness. “That will be nine Sickles and two Knuts.”

“Here’s ten Galleons, get me there as fast as possible.” Ten galleons was more than enough for the man to forget Harry’s attitude and without delay, they were literally screaming towards Bristol, much to the chagrin of the other passengers who had been waiting to reach their various stops for some time. When they weren’t holding onto whatever they could reach to prevent themselves from being thrown all over the bus, the other passengers were glaring at Harry angrily but he didn’t pay them the least bit of attention. He was more preoccupied with what the hell was wrong with Hermione. He supposed that she could be under attack but that was unlikely. Even if she could have answered the phone in such a situation she wouldn’t have answered with a simple ‘hello’ nor did he think that she would completely lose her head as she did. With an attack or other such immediate sources of danger low on his lists of possibilities, he couldn’t much think of anything else. Having never really been overemotional as Hermione had been, he couldn’t really think of anything that could have caused that reaction in himself much less someone else.

It was no surprise really, that the Knight Bus pulled to a stop in the middle of a nice upper middle-class neighborhood after just five minutes of rather intense driving. Harry was able to keep on his feet with the rather sudden stop primarily because he was already moving to the front of the bus and it didn’t take much too simply use the vehicle’s loss of momentum to get there quicker. A lot quicker.

“When someone stops by to ask where you where you dropped me off, and trust me, they will check soon, just give them an address far from here.” Harry told the driver, Ernie, and Stan Shunpike before he got off.

“Now why would we do that?” Stan asked curiously.

“Because I don’t much feel like having Dumbledore breathing down my neck until I go back to Hogwarts. If he doesn’t find me, then I’ll need transportation a few more times this summer and I can be very generous when I feel like it.” He dropped ten more galleons into Stan’s hand before jumping off the bus.

“What choo tink, Ern?” Stan asked after the door closed behind him.

“I think we mind out own damn business and hope that Potter continues being as generous as he was today.” Ernie responded just before opening an unseen console and pushing a small blue button. With a flash of blue light, all the passengers got a glazed look in their eyes as the details of their last stop was wiped from their minds.

“Potter, Harry Potter?” Stan asked in surprise. “I tought dat was Neville Longbottom?”

Ern just looked at his friend incredulously before slamming his foot on the gas.

Harry looked up and down the street to make sure that the unusual bus hadn’t been noticed but it would seem that despite the loud banging and screeching wheels, charms were in place to prevent muggles from noticing anything, not just its appearance.

Checking that the house in front of him was 1494, Harry approached cautiously, absently fingering his wand in his sleeve. Just as he stepped up to the porch, the front door was ripped open and he barely had time to open his eyes wide in surprise before he was assaulted by a bushy brown haired missal.

He was actually quite surprised at how strong she was as she clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder. While he was by no means comfortable in such situations and had no real idea on how to handle them, but he did know that his friend obviously needed some comfort so that’s what he tried to do as he hugged her tightly and rubbed her back in what he hopped was a soothing manner. It didn’t seem to help much.

“Harry, bring her back inside.” Harry looked up and recognized Hermione’s mother as she looked at her daughter sadly. Looking at her for a moment, he came to the conclusion that Anna Granger was a formidable woman. While he hadn’t had opportunity to be around her much, much less speak to her, simply by the way she held herself Harry could tell that she could clearly keep control of nearly any situation thrown at her by her presence alone without having to resort to shouting like Mrs. Weasley. She had nearly the same presence as Professor McGonagall.

Nodding his head slightly, Harry led Hermione through the door and followed Mrs. Granger down the hall to the sitting room. He only took a few quick glances around but that was all he needed, all anyone would need, to come to the conclusion that the taste that the Dursleys tried, and failed, to pass off seemed to come naturally for the Grangers even though they didn’t seem to leave expensive items or pieces of art about just to impress any visitors.

The sitting room was likewise tastefully down and looked like it could pass for a showroom of some high end furniture shop, only this was both elegant and practical with wall to wall mahogany paneling and sturdy oak and leather couches and armchairs. Scattered about the mantelpiece, the walls and various small tables were numerous pictures of their family. Traditional studio photos, pictures of them on holiday and more that were obviously done just for fun.

Gently sitting Hermione down on the nearest couch, Harry kneeled down in front of her and tried to get her to tell him what was wrong but she didn’t seem capable of speech at this point. She was nearly hyperventilating and she seemed in no hurry to calm down.

“We both have our good days and bad days.” Anna spoke up quietly. “Unfortunately this one isn’t starting out so good.” Harry had absolutely no idea what she was talking about but after trying, and failing, to get Hermione to calm down after five minutes, he decided that a new tactic was needed. As he stood up, Hermione grabbed his hand in what felt like a death grip, as if she was afraid he would leave and never come back.

“I’ll be right back, Hermione, I’m just going to get you some water.” After a moment, she let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around her midsection, slowly rocking back and forth. Stepping out of her line of vision, he moved around the couch until he was standing right behind her. Raising a finger to his lips to silence whatever Mrs. Granger was about to say, he pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at the back of Hermione’s head.

Keeping his voice as low as possible, he cast several calming charms before finishing it off with a sleep inducing spell. The results were almost immediate as her breathing steadily slowed and deepened and with that, her blood pressure and heart rate certainly dropped as well. He leaned forward and grabbed her by the shoulders just as she was beginning to slump over and carefully lowered her into a laying position. Once again moving to his original position in front of her, he did all he could to make sure she was comfortable before following Mrs. Granger out of the room.

“What’s wrong with her?” Harry asked after they entered the kitchen, sitting down at the small breakfast table.

“You don’t know?” Mrs. Granger asked incredulously much to Harry’s confusion.

“I would have thought my rather baffled demeanor would have made that obvious, and if not, asking her repeatedly what was wrong should have been a good sign.” Mrs. Granger looked about ready to cry herself, making Harry much more nervous and uncomfortable.

“My…my husband was killed early this summer.” Harry’s mind very nearly shut down entirely.

“Huh?” Harry asked stupidly, unable to think of a more intelligent way to voice his question.

“He died in a car accident the day after Hermione came home from Hogwarts.” Tears started flowing down Mrs. Granger’s face as she stared down at the tabletop. Harry just sat there with a dumbfounded expression. Not having ever known his parents, Harry knew that he could never truly understand what it was like to have them suddenly taken from him. While loosing a parent had to be painful for anyone, it was probably especially true for someone like Hermione, who wasn’t the type to have a great many friends growing up. Her parents were all she ever had to rely on.

“She wrote me a letter a few weeks ago, she didn’t mention it.” Harry spoke up quietly, drawing a humorless laugh from Mrs. Granger.

“Not exactly something she could explain in a letter. I tried to right to you a few times to explain her lack of replies but I honestly didn’t know what to write. We had thought that someone had told you and you just didn’t mention it in your letters because you didn’t want to upset her.”

“You thought someone had told me? So others know? The Weasleys, Dumbledore, people like them?” Harry asked in an emotionless tone, already knowing the answer. Mrs. Granger merely nodded and he felt his anger rise. Harry was right about to say something when the doorbell rang. Mrs. Granger excused herself and went to answer the door, leaving Harry to think. He was just getting his anger under control when a very familiar voice caught his attention.

“I apologize for just showing up unannounced like this, Anna, but we have a bit of a problem that we were hoping you could help us out with.”

“And what would that be?”

“You see, Harry ran away from his relative’s home not to long ago for some unknown reason and it is believed that it is highly likely that he will try to get in touch with Hermione.”

“No need, Professor, I’m right here.” Harry spoke up as he moved out of the kitchen, catching Professor McGonagall by surprise. It wasn’t so much his appearance in the Granger home that surprised her but the unchecked hostility that seemed to radiate off of him. Anyone that had known either Harry or his mother for any length of time had certainly seen it before but this was the first time that righteous anger had been directed at her and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why.

“I had a rather fascinating morning thus far, Professor, would you care to hear about it?” Harry asked in a neutral tone, well, neutral for him. McGonagall just looked back and forth between Harry and Mrs. Granger in confusion.

“This morning I decided to give Hermione a call on the phone to see if she was alright. She hadn’t answered a single one of the letters I’ve sent her so far this summer so naturally I was worried. Imagine my surprise when she answers the phone and immediately after hearing me on the other end of the line, she breaks down in tears, unable to speak coherently enough to tell me what’s wrong.

“I get here and learn that not only has her father been killed, but that it happened six weeks ago, and no one bothered to tell me that my best friend has been an emotional wreck and could certainly use a great deal of support.

“I’m left with two possibilities. One, this oversight was, perhaps, a mere lapse in judgment, and no one thought to inform me, not even my other best friend. Or, number two, someone was feeling particularly heavy handed and decided that everything was better off left as it was?”

“Why would you think that this would be kept from you purposely?” McGonagall asked in surprise. While she was shocked that Harry hadn’t been told of Mr. Granger’s passing and she could understand his suspiciousness, she couldn’t imagine someone preventing Harry from learning of his friend’s loss. Well, she could imagine the reason, she just didn’t really want to believe it was a possibility.

“The reason why is relatively simple. Dumbledore wants to keep me at the Dursleys’ for as long as possible and Hermione needing support as she does now would certainly force me to come here to help. The only sure way to keep me from coming would have been to keep me in the dark, as they say.”

“I assure you, Mr. Potter, that if this information was withheld purposefully, I was unaware of it. Everyone seemed to be under the impression that you had been told but no one likes to discuss unpleasant matter such as that when it isn’t needed and I guess that no one in the Order thought to ask, myself included. If I had seen you face to face, I probably would have mentioned the situation but talking about something like this through a letter in even more uncomfortable that speaking of it out loud.

“As for why Albus and the Weasleys didn’t tell you, I can’t be certain.” McGonagall admitted. “If this was indeed merely an oversight, it was certainly caused by the Headmaster’s increased schedule now that the Ministry has publicly admitted to the Dark Lord’s return. As I said regarding many within the Order, most people are uncomfortable talking about the death of someone they knew, or someone that was close to someone they knew. It’s possible that the Weasleys, young Ronald especially, simply can’t talk about it and assumed that you had been told, by Albus or Ms. Granger.

“But, as you suggested, it is perfectly reasonable to suggest that this negligence was by design. In which case, most of the Weasley household is under Albus’ control so it would have possibly been relatively easy for him to persuade them that keeping this from you was the best option to ensure your emotional wellbeing and to keep you in the safety of you relatives home.” Not even Mrs. Granger, who was under a great deal of stress, missed the sarcasm and scorn in the professor’s tone when referring to Harry’s family. That and what little she had heard from Hermione and observed herself at Kings Cross Station on occasion spoke volumes of the dislike between Harry and his family.

“Now, I guess I have to ask you what your plans are now.” McGonagall spoke up again with a stern look. Harry didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. He thought for a moment before he led both women back into the kitchen so that they wouldn’t disturb Hermione. Once they were seated he told his professor exactly what he planned to do.

“As I’m sure whoever may have searched the Dursleys’ home after I left could tell you, I brought all of my possessions with me so it should go without saying that I have no intention of returning. I’ll stay here until Hermione wakes up and can assure myself that she will be alright for a while and then I intend to look for a decent hotel to spend the rest of the summer.”

“Why?” McGonagall was clearly confused. “Why hide away from the rest of the Order? Albus arranged for you to leave Surry in just a few days.”

“That may have been his intention at the time, but my coming here without his permission would have certainly changed his plans. He will want me where he can keep a permanent eye on me to make sure I don’t do anything he would disapprove of and being at the Weasley’s will give me ample opportunity to do just that. Instead, I’ll be forced to remain with the Dursleys for the rest of the summer. I’ve actually managed to have fun on a few occasions so far since leaving Hogwarts and I’m not prepared to allow Dumbledore to strip away what little freedom he has seen fit to allow me thus far. I will not let him make me a prisoner in a house I despise as he did to Sirius last year.”

“I’m sure that if you speak to Albus about your concerns, he will be more than willing to take your needs into account, Harry.”

“Did he take your concerns into account when he dumped me off at the Dursleys in the first place? No, he didn’t. He ignored you and then left an infant lying on their doorstep in the middle of the night and just walked away. He then ignored the neglect that went on there for ten years without intervening and once I began Hogwarts he ignored my desires to never return there again.

“The fact that old Mrs. Figg is a member of the Order and was assigned to keep an eye on me as I grew up as well as the fact that my first Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs was certainly never lost on me. He knew how they treated me my entire life and he did nothing to stop it. Dumbledore makes his own plans and he won’t let anyone talk him out of them and he never changes them when they go wrong until it’s too late.

“The plain and simple fact of the matter is that Dumbledore has absolutely no legal authority to dictate any aspect of my life outside of Hogwarts and I will no longer allow him to do so. I can understand his original decision to an extent. Living with a blood relative powered the wards to protect me from any Death Eaters seeking vengeance as I grew up and living there now would continue to protect both me and my relatives now that Voldemort is back. However, I am no longer a helpless child, any Death Eater trying to kill me is going to get the same in return. While I’m not stupid enough to go looking for them, and getting away would be my first priority, I will not lock myself away from the rest of the world just to conform to Dumbledore’s plans.

“As for the Dursleys safety, well, I couldn’t care less.” Harry shrugged. “If the wards fall as a result of my early departure, and they are killed by Death Eaters, while I certainly won’t celebrate their deaths, I will not mourn them either. I won’t subject myself to another moment in the company of people who try to belittle me with every word spoken just to keep them safe.”

“Do you really think so little of Professor Dumbledore to believe that he would intentionally leave a child in an abusive environment?” Mrs. Granger asked in surprise, choosing to ignore Harry’s thoughts on his relatives for the time being. Hermione had always spoken of Harry’s relationship with their headmaster as if they were rather close. This obviously conflicted with reality more than she would have expected. Hermione was usually very good at reading between the lines in most situations but in this instance she seemed to have gotten things very wrong.

“As I already said, the proof that he knew what went on in that house is obvious. Mrs. Figg, the fact that my address was a bloody cupboard. He had to have known. But, I also believe that what happened wasn’t intentional. I don’t think he made his choices with the intent of making me miserable or that he just didn’t care. I think some things just spiraled out of control and he didn’t know how to fix them without making them worse. So he did nothing, hoping that it would fix itself.

“Also, I have to take into account the situations I have found myself in during my time at Hogwarts. My first year was a prime example.” Seeing her confused expression, Harry briefly gave Mrs. Granger a quick explanation. Though McGonagall had contacted her about the incident, Harrys account was much less forgiving in regards to the Hogwarts staff. She was by no means amused.

“Dumbledore knew without any doubt that Voldemort was after the Philosopher’s Stone and that he would stop at nothing to get it yet he had no problem hiding it inside a school full of children, behind protections that three of those children were able to bypass with little trouble. Our other four years at Hogwarts has seen many such examples of his lack of judgment, some not so bad, some even worse.

“So, to answer your question directly, no, I don’t think so little of Professor Dumbledore to believe that everything that has happened has been intentional. I simply don’t trust his judgment. While he’s powerful and intelligent, he seems too old and set in his ways for me to trust him as I once did. He’s too old and been in control for too long. He’s so out of touch with the rest of the world that he no longer understands real people.

“Now, I’m not saying that he’s useless or incompetent, after all, he is a great wizard, but I know without a doubt that if I continue as I have, allow him to lead me around by the hand, I’ll end up dead.” While she could certainly understand Harry’s point, McGonagall also saw the need to protect him as best she could.

“While your concerns may be valid, Harry, going off on your own for over a month is still dangerous. The Order can help to keep you safe, where ever you choose to stay.”

“I’m safe as long as Voldemort doesn’t know where I am and to keep him from finding out I would rather as few people as possible knew my location. Telling the Order so that they could set up wards or place guards is risky. Besides which, I don’t know most of the people in the Order, so I don’t trust them and even many of them that I do know, I don’t trust.”

“Despite appearances, Severus is very trustwoth…”

“Believe it or not, Professor, Snape is the least of my worries in that regard. Mundungus Fletcher, for example, I don’t trust one bit, yet Dumbledore seems to insist on him as one of my guards regularly. If he shows up at all, he’s piss drunk and passes out soon after he arrives. That is the kind of trust that I was referring to, not whether or not someone is going to sell me out to Voldemort. With very few exceptions, the Order is made up of bureaucrats and housewives. Only a small handful of them have any experience in dueling and that’s what is needed if an attack comes. The vast majority of its members would be a liability to me if a fight came.

“The only Order member I know for a fact that I could count on one hundred percent should things get bad is Moody. Unfortunately, I don’t trust him one bit when things aren’t bad.”

“Why not? He would be the perfect person to help ensure someone’s protection.”

“Because I’ve found that people with special abilities have a nasty habit of thinking that they are entitled to use them whenever they wish. The perfect example would be Legilimency. Both Dumbledore and Snape use it all the time on the people around them. Students included. Snape so he can get any information that may prove useful later on and Dumbledore for the same reason, as well as just to get a general feel of the people he comes into contact with. Neither of them even thinks that they are invading someone’s privacy, they just do it without thought.

“For Moody, I would imagine the same is true with him when it comes to that creepy eye of his. The fact that he could easily watch me through the walls of whatever house I’m in makes me uneasy. If he were guarding Hermione for instance, I would certainly be damn near raging at the thought because that eye would never leave her. He’s too damn paranoid that something is going to happen on his watch, so whatever she’s doing, he’ll be watching. Whether she’s watching TV, sleeping or even in the shower.”

“Really, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall chastised sharply. “Alastor would never do such a thing.”

“Yes, he would, and he has.” Harry disagreed just as strongly. “Whenever he was on duty at the Dursleys’, he was always watching. Even without Legilimency, I could feel that eye on me the entire time and I’m sure everyone he’s guarding gets the same treatment. I doubt there’s anything sexual about it, he’s merely keeping a much closer eye on his target than would be considered appropriate, but it doesn’t mean that I enjoy knowing that someone is watching me at all hours.”

“Alright, I think we’ve gotten off track quite a bit.”

“Right you are.” Harry agreed. “The bottom line, Professor, is that I will not be returning to the Dursleys’. I will wait to make sure that Hermione is alright for the time being and then I’m leaving. Nothing you or anyone else can say is going to change that fact.”

“You don’t need a hotel, Harry, you will stay here with us.” Mrs. Granger spoke up suddenly. Harry was about to shoot that idea down quickly but she raised her hand to silence him and he had to admit that the glare she was shooting him was pretty good. Much better than Narcissa’s. “If we can keep this quiet, you could be just as safe here as in any hotel, you needn’t spend so much money when you can just as easily stay here. Besides,” She continued with a sigh. “Hermione will need a great deal of support and I don’t think I’ll be able to show her as much support as I’d like.” Harry was all set to refuse the offer until she mentioned Hermione. Harry would never presume to question her commitment to her daughter but he was well aware that it was very difficult to try to comfort someone when you’re grieving yourself. While he was certain that Mrs. Granger had been doing the best she could, it was clear that she thought that Hermione deserved more.

“Unfortunately, Dumbledore will not allow it.” Harry spoke up after a moments thought. “With the Order looking for me, it’s only a matter of time before Moody comes around here to look for himself. He’ll see me, tell Dumbledore and then I’ll immediately be packed back off to the Dursleys’. If by some chance he can be persuaded to keep quiet, you can guarantee that he’ll insist on doing frequent, unannounced checks on the house and then we get right back to my basic concern about the man. Only this time it won’t only be me that he’s keeping an eye on, but you and Hermione as well. Just thinking about that makes me want to slit his throat.” Harry argued honestly.

“Minerva, would you be so kind as to find this Moody person and ask him to come around for a little chat?” McGonagall’s eyes widened slightly in shock just for moment but Harry noticed nonetheless, giving him the impression that she knew Mrs. Granger quite well and had an idea of what she was planning. He filed that bit of information away for later thought. Knowing her as he did, Harry wasn’t too surprised when McGonagall nodded in agreement before giving her wand a casual wave. Her tabby cat patronus leapt out of the end of her wand and immediately shot out the room.

“Alastor should be here relatively soon. I instructed him to tell no one, not even Albus.”

“And he’ll listen to you?” Harry asked in a disbelieving tone. He didn’t know Moody anywhere near as well as his transfiguration professor but he knew that the man was one of Dumbledore’s closest friends and notoriously paranoid. He would no doubt find such instructions suspicious and seek back up.

“Oh, he’ll listen. I didn’t give him a choice.” Harry cringed slightly at the smirk on the older woman’s face. While most people saw her as a strict but fair instructor, Harry knew perfectly well that the woman was capable of being quite vicious and underhanded when she needed to be. He was quite sure that he didn’t want to know whatever she threatened him with.

The three sat in silence for only a few minutes before a quiet pop sounded in the back yard. Harry was very surprised by the retired Auror’s quick arrival. He had been sure that he would have apperated in further away and walked the remaining distance to give himself time to assess the situation. Harry began rethinking his early conclusion that he didn’t want to know what McGonagall had said in that message. Whatever it was seemed to have gotten an unparalleled reaction from the man. Almost instant mindless obedience to her demands.

“Harry, why don’t you go sit with Hermione.” Though it was phrased as such, the look in Mrs. Granger’s eyes told him that this was not a request or suggestion but a command. He looked about ready to protest but the glare she leveled him with nearly sent him running. As it was, he barely managed to leave the kitchen in a dignified manner. Once the door was closed behind him, she shivered slightly. That woman could be far more intimidating that she let on.

Before he took one step further, he heard McGonagall mutter something and then all went silent, presumably a silencing ward of some sort. Whatever Mrs. Granger had planned for Mad Eye, McGonagall had a general idea and it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Shaking his head slightly, he took a few steps towards the sitting room when the kitchen door behind him opened once again to evict his professor.

“I was just to make the introductions.” She explained, seeing his confused expression. “I will warn you simply, Mr. Potter, do not underestimate Anna Granger under any circumstances. She may not be able to use magic but she has other more effective weapons.” She told him sternly before stepping forward and pulling him into a deep passionate kiss which he returned just as enthusiastically for a few moments before he pulled away quickly.

“Shit, Moody’s in there. He probably saw that.”

“He’s too busy getting railroaded by Anna right now to pay attention to anything else.” She reassured him before he worked himself into a panic. “Besides, the first thing I did after you left the room was ward each of the walls so that he couldn’t see through them. I’ll be doing the rest of the house before I leave.”

“Oh,” Understanding dawned quickly but just as quickly was replaced with a mischievous look. “In that case, where were we?”

“Harry, is that you?”

“EEP.” Harry squeaked as he spun around quickly to see Hermione standing there with a look of shock on her face. “Obliviate!” Hermione’s eyes glazed over as the memory charm washed over her before Harry even realized that his wand was in his hand.

“Great, I just obliviated my best friend.” Harry grunted as he lowered his wand.

“It’s not like it’s the first time.” Minerva shrugged unconcerned. Harry didn’t bother to respond, choosing instead to make his way to Hermione’s side before stunning her and carrying her back to the couch while Minerva began walking around the house placing wards on each and every wall, floor and ceiling, ensuring that no one could, not even Moody, could view through them.

Just as she was finishing up, Mrs. Granger and Mad Eye came out of the kitchen, Moody looking rather pale and flustered. Mrs. Granger looked quite pleased with herself. Harry found it rather amusing that Moody’s eye was focused solely on what was in front of him as he did a quick walk through, muttering under his breath about the size of the room before moving on to the next.

After getting a general idea of the houses dimensions, both Moody and McGonagall went out back and began discussing the various wards that should be placed. Mrs. Granger sat down across from Harry and smiled slightly as she watched her daughter sleeping, her head resting on Harry’s lap as he slowly stroked her hair. Harry was certainly not going to tell her that Hermione was not just sleeping, but stunned.

Taking the time to really look at her, Harry realized that Anna Granger was a stunningly beautiful woman. She was of average height with long wavy dark brown hair that didn’t seem to have the same control issues as that of her daughter and, of course, she was stunningly beautiful. Thinking it over, Harry realized that she looked a great deal like an older version of Hermione as she looked at the Yule Ball during fourth year. But, to be perfectly honest, she didn’t really look old enough to be the mother of sixteen year old. If it weren’t for the fact that she had just lost her husband, not to mention being the mother of his best friend, she was certainly someone that he wouldn’t mind jumping into bed with.

“I was under the impression that wizards your age were strictly prohibited from performing magic outside of school unless in life threatening situations.” She asked after a few moments of silence.

“Mrs. Granger…”

“Please, call me Anna.”

“Alright, Anna, can I trust you to keep this information to yourself?” Harry asked. While he was perfectly capable of doing so, he didn’t really want to resort to using a memory charm on Hermione’s mother unless he had no other alternative.

“You’re asking me to lie to my daughter?”

“Lie is such an ugly word.” Harry tisked. “All I’m asking is that you omit a few facts in the unlikely event that she should ask why she suddenly calmed down and fell asleep. Hermione is nothing if not determined when it comes to digging up information she wants and if she finds out that I’m able to perform magic she will no doubt hammer away at me until I give her an explanation. That is something that I want to avoid for the time being. It would simply bring up too many questions, questions that I am not yet ready to answer.” After nodding her agreement, Harry told her his very brief and edited version.

“Well, the short and skinny of it is that someone came to me to ask a favor and making sure the Ministry couldn’t detect my use of magic was a… show of their good faith, I suppose.”

“Judging by your choice of words, am I to assume that your Ministry would be displeased by this if they found out?”

“That would be a safe bet, yes.”

“How much trouble could you get into if they found out?”

“I’m guessing that I would receive no sympathy from the Wizengamot if I was brought before them a second time so I’m guessing that at the very least, I would have my wand snapped and be expelled from Hogwarts. I’m well aware that this person could choose to use my performing magic as a weapon against me so I intend to go through the process of receiving a provisionary permit just to make everything as legal as possible but I’m in no hurry to do that at the moment.”

“And this favor that was asked of you, how much trouble could that bring you?”

“If I had carried it out as they wanted, probably a great deal. But, as things stand, I have done absolutely nothing illegal nor have I asked others to do it for me so I won’t have any serious legal trouble there. The only real problems it could bring up are with people that already want me dead, so no change there. But now we have to discuss something else. If I am going to stay here for the next month, how much do you think would be acceptable to pay for rent?” Anna seemed to nod in acceptance to his answer to her question but her eyes narrowed slightly when she registered his question regarding rent.

“Harry, I offered you a place to stay here, I did not put out an advertisement for a boarder.”

“Fifty pounds enough?” Harry asked, taking no notice of Anna’s objection.

“Nothing!”

“One hundred pounds?”

“Nothing!” Harry almost smiled, he could almost hear her teeth grinding.

“Two hundred pounds, then?”

“Mum, just stop now, your not going to win this argument.” Hermione yawned as she rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Harry’s much too stubborn. He’ll just keep raising the price until you finally agree and then he’ll end up hiding the money somewhere for you to find after he leaves if you refuse to take it.” She sighed as she sat up, shaking her head slightly to clear it.

“That’s right.” Harry nodded happily much to Anna’s chagrin.

“Fine, fifty.” She finally relented, intent on making sure he had that money back before he left even if she had to hide it in his trunk.

“I thought we were at two hundred?”

“I have no…”

“Mother,” Hermione broke in, not wanting to hear this argument. Her mum was just as stubborn as Harry and they would probably go back and forth all day if she didn’t end this quick. “Just stop, please. Harry’s set on giving you two hundred and he won’t change his mind.”

“Fine, two hundred pounds.” Anna reluctantly agreed. “Now that Hermione is up, I need to get breakfast going.” Harry stood up and offered to help but Hermione grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him back down.

“Stay right where you are.”

“What?”

“My mother is just as difficult to deal with as you are at times. You managed to win that argument, for the time being anyway, but I don’t want to hear the two of you getting into it over who is going to do what in the kitchen.” Anna flashed him a cheeky grin before leaving the room, lightly humming to herself. She clearly saw that as a victory.

“Now, what did my mother offer you that you refused to take for free?”

“Oh, well, it seems that you have a new roommate.” At her surprised look, Harry quickly gave her the highlights of his morning thus far. Like Anna and Minerva had been, she was greatly surprised that no one had seen fit to tell him what had happened to her father. She was especially angry at Dumbledore and the Weasleys who had all known and could easily have to told him what was going on. Although he left it unsaid, Harry held more anger towards Fred and George since they had had a number of opportunities this summer but had still said nothing.

“Alright, now, where did you get two hundred pounds to pay my mother with? That I know of, you haven’t been to Gringotts and I can’t imagine that you Uncle would give it to you?” She asked suspiciously.

“Well that’s where you’re wrong. I asked the twins to get my key from Mrs. Weasley for me and they fed her a cock and bull story about me wanting them to pick up some books for summer reading material so that she wouldn’t get suspicious and tell Dumbledore as she surely would have if the key had just disappeared or I had written her and asked her to send it too me. This way, even if she had let Dumbledore know, it would have seemed completely innocent.”

“Well can you even afford that? Don’t you need to save what money you have for the rest of your schooling?”

“Hermione, I went to Gringotts the day the twins gave me my key and I found an extraordinary thing. Although it’s been a few years since I’ve seen the inside of my vault and between school supplies and Hogwarts tuition, a good bit has been spent, it looked just as full as the last time I had been there. Turns out that that was my mother’s personal vault that she set up when she got her first job. After she married my dad, she kept it open and made sure that a certain amount was always in it so that she wouldn’t have to go through the tighter security for the much more protected Potter vault which was in one of the lower tunnels. Apparently she didn’t much like those carts.”

“So your family is rich?” She couldn’t hide her surprise. When he wasn’t in his Hogwarts uniform, Harry had always worn his cousin’s castoffs so at times he looked like nothing more than a street waif. It was hard to imagine him as wealthy.

“Well, I am now anyway. Apparently my family had always been fairly well off but the vast majority of it was tied into investments. That financial situation changed a bit after they went into hiding.”

“How so?”

“Well, for example, being under the Fidelius Charm, my father couldn’t exactly personal manage his investments on his own so he asked the goblins to take over managing his funds.”

“I didn’t know they did that.”

“For the most part they don’t, for two important reasons. One, they don’t like dealing with humans any more than they have to. And two, humans don’t really trust them, unless your completely stupid. As much as you want to believe that every race out there deserves to be treated with respect and as equals, Hermione, you will be a fool to ever put your trust in a goblin. They will look for, and exploit, any loophole in any agreement you make with them to get any advantage over you that they can until they bleed you dry.

“My dad’s proposal was rather simple, they would manage all investments he had and in return they would get ten percent of all profits made off those investments. For that kind of payoff, they were more than willing to take a more active role with a human’s accounts and over the years it’s paid off quite a bit.”

“I can understand that, but why did you stress the word profit like that?”

“I goes right back to what I was saying about goblins. Just about anyone would take a deal like that for what it truly was, an agreement to pay a certain amount of the profits but a goblin will take any advantage they can get. If the contract hadn’t explicitly said that they had the right to that portion of the profits, and that portion only, the goblins would more than likely have claimed ownership of not just the profits, not just ten percent of the investments as a whole, but ten percent of everything the Potter family owned. The contract my mother drew up was short, simple and air tight, no room whatsoever for any legal maneuvering and that’s kept the goblins honest for the last fifteen years.”

“So all of your money has basically come from Gringotts investing what they had access to?”

“For the most part, there are two other sources. Did you know that I was awarded the Order of Merlin?” Hermione blinked in surprise at such a question.

“Yes, everyone knows that. You were the youngest person to ever receive that award.”

“Well, I didn’t know.” Harry laughed slightly as his friend’s eyes grew wide in shock. She always looked so amusing when you surprised her. “I guess that was just one more thing that everyone assumed I knew so they did bother mentioning it. But evidently a one million galleon prize goes along with an Order of Merlin First Class. So that sent another million into my accounts. Also, at about the same time, numerous other deposits were made. After everyone found out that the new savior of the wizarding world was an orphan, it seemed that a great many people wanted to help out.

“Get this,” Harry chuckled. “Lucius Malfoy transferred two hundred and fifty thousand galleons to me. He was by far the biggest donor and apparently the only one that went public with his act of charity. Claiming that the victims of the crimes committed while he was under the Imperius Curse had to receive compensation in some way. This was right after he bribed his way out of Azkaban and went on his spending spree on numerous charities to try and clean up his name. Except for Malfoy, all of these donations were made anonymously so I can’t give it back to them and I rather enjoy the idea that I have a quarter million of Malfoy’s money so I’m keeping that as well for sentimental value.”

“So, how rich are you?”

“Err… thirty two, thirty three million, something like that. Thanks to the goblins it’s growing all the time. Oh, I have a question for you.”

“What?”

“It’s about your mum. McGonagall cast a silencing ward, so I couldn’t hear what your mum said to him, but Moody came out of the kitchen looking like the devil himself had slapped him around.”

“Is there a question in there?”

“Do you have any idea what she might have said to him, or threatened him with?”

“I have no idea but mum can be as cold-blooded and ruthless as You-Know-Who when she views someone as a threat to family. You said that she offered to let you stay here so that you could keep me company, she probably saw Moody as a roadblock to my happiness and responded accordingly. Why?”

“To be perfectly honest, your mum can be a very intimidating woman when she wants to be. I’m curious to see what would happen if Dumbledore showed up. Would she give him the same treatment? It’d be funny to see how he reacted.”

“Breakfast is ready.” Anna called from the kitchen.

“Come on, Hermione, let’s not keep the demon lady waiting.” Harry said as he pulled her up from the couch. Despite the fact that he was referring to her mother, Hermione found that to be one of the funniest things she had heard in a while, and given her situation, it probably was.

“Harry,” She stopped him just before they entered the kitchen. She stood there fidgeting for a moment before wrapping her arms around him in a tight but friendly embrace. “Um, I, I just want to thank you… for being here. And…”

“Hermione, you’re my friend. We may argue from time to time but I’ll always be there for you just as you’ve always been there for me.”

“Okay, since that’s about as much emotion as you can deal with on a daily basis, we should go eat.” Hermione announced as she pulled away.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I am getting pretty good at that emotional garbage. I’ve been getting in touch with my inner child this summer and coming to terms with my insecurities that were the result of my poor upbringing. The lack of any real parental or friendly attachments growing up left me emotionally underdeveloped and unprepared to face the world as a whole.” Hermione looked at him as if he were crazy for a moment before her eyes narrowed.

“You’ve been watching one of those fluffy women’s shows, haven’t you?” She accused.

“I’ll have you know that the goddess that is Oprah has helped me see myself as I really am.” Harry defended himself in a rather pompous manner. “She convinced me that my real trouble relating to people in general stems from my emotional isolation as a child, and that I subconsciously try to keep myself in today for a feeling of familiarity and safety, has shaped me to be rather submissive towards those who try to establish dominance and this, as well as my harsh punishments from my aunt and uncle, has brought about my submissive masochistic nature and my general attraction towards those that are physically stronger than myself.

“I suspect that a lot of my problems with Ron over the years has been a direct result of this. Unresolved sexual tension is not… Shit, I can’t do this.” Harry began laughing as Hermione turned a little green. She had actually thought that he was serious before he got to the part about being submissive and she almost started laughing herself until he started talking about Ron. The idea of those two together was just altogether disgusting. While she was pretty sure that Ron wouldn’t go for something like that, she knew that Harry was about as heterosexual as they came. His activities with Angelina Johnson and Hannah Abbott last year hadn’t gone as unnoticed as they would have liked. Especially since he had let her use the Marauder’s Map when she was on prefect patrols. She found it quite amusing that their names on the map would actually overlap and turn red when they were intimate. It took her a lot of work to find the right spells to make sure Harry couldn’t catch her like that if she ever found herself in a similar situation while at Hogwarts. He was just lucky that she was able to keep Ron from finding out because then half the school would know once Ron worked himself up into a jealous rant. Then again, either Angelina or Hannah would probably kill Ron if he ever did anything like that.





I’m an American so I don’t know what shows British women watch but I’m sure they have some Oprahish ones. For you brits out there, feel free to imagine one of those in your head at this time.


Alright, despite whatever your twisted little minds can think up given that Harry will be staying with Hermione of a month, I will repeat that he will not have a sexual relationship with her, at all, nothing, not even a casual bump and grind.

Next chapter coming soon.