Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.
Author to Reader Note: I don't know anything about Hermione's home, parents (besides being muggles and dentists) or her life previous to Hogwarts; so much of it is created from my own imagination and my opinions of Hermione. I said a number of times before already that I'm most likely wrong and so I just hope the readers simply enjoy my version of things.
I don't know the names of Hermione's parents so I used the names of two of my favorite British characters. If they don't seem to fit, then you're probably right.
I'm going to do some dream stuff again and like before its all via Harry's eyes, in case I don't make that clear enough.
There'll be a mentioning about clothes and please note, I'm not a fashion person. I known nothing of the subject besides what I like so please don't be too judgmental.
Also, before posting it, I pulled two scenes from the chapter so it's slightly shorter than it should. I did this because I felt they pulled from the chapter's point too much.
I just want to mention that when I started this fan fiction, my intention was to complete it before the fifth book was released. However because of work and school I was not able to achieve this. I have every intention of completing this fan fiction but I wish to say that I do not expect anyone to take time from reading the new book to read my fan fiction, as I too will be indulging in it for a majority of my free time between necessities. I do ask that when you have read the book four or five times and need a break, to please consider my fan fiction for refreshment.
Otherwise I hope you all enjoy the highly anticipated book as I am.
Revised 7/14/03
Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within
Chapter 23
Lonely No More
Hermione stood in her room, looking around, having set her trunk down.
The train ride home had been the worst she had ever known. Rela sat with her and Ron along with Ginny and Neville. Rela was just staring out the window like she was refusing to look at anybody for some reason. Ron sat on edge, glancing out the window occasionally, even mumbling to him-self a few times. The lady with the sweet cart found out the hard way as the moment she opened the door to ask about treats, Ron slammed it shut, shattering the windows and with such force, the door broke off the rail. She stood surprised but Ron glared at her and Hermione just noticed an orange tint to his eyes.
Neville and Ginny tried to be helpful with small talk but it was no use. Neither received a response from Ron and Hermione gave quick answers to things but otherwise was distracted by her other thoughts.
The entire ride home she could only think of Harry at the castle entrance. She spent a great deal of time trying to figure out what it was she saw in his eyes and after hearing Dumbledore and remembering her own life, she had come to realized what it was.
Yearning…
He wanted to leave with them as much as she had wanted to stay. There was little doubt that Ron felt the same way.
But now she stood in her room and looked around to see the fine layer of dust on all but one of her things. A frame of Harry's picture, from the set sent to her earlier. It was a new addition to her room and so time had not had the chance to include it in the film of dust that presided.
Normally the first task Hermione would have done would be to have cleaned the dust but her distracted mind caused her actions to skip that part. She opened her trunk and began to remove items from it, laying them neatly and in order on the bed. She started with her clothes, sweaters in one place, skirts, socks, leg warmers and undergarments all in neat stacks upon the bedspread. After removing the clothes, she then sorted school items. Books went to a bookcase, potions ingredients to a shelf, parchments and writing materials to her desk. Now all that was left was to put her clothes away in their perspective places as well.
Hermione opened her closet and turned to her bed. All the different clothing items in their neat folded stacks, sorted systematically, but in that moment Hermione hated every bit of it. In one quick move, she grabbed the bedspread and jerked it to one side. All the clothes fell to the floor, a mixed, messy heap that she didn't care about. Hermione fell on her bed and sobbed into her pillow.
She didn't hear the squeak of the door or feel as someone came to set beside her. A hand touched the back of Hermione's head and she jerked herself away from the pillow to see a comforting face looking back… the face of her mother Jean Granger.
"Tell me what happened," spoke her mother gently.
Her tears didn't stop but lightened as Hermione told her mother most of the events concerning the last week.
Mrs. Granger never said a word, even during the times Hermione paused, until everything her daughter had to say was done.
"I sound so stupid," sniffed Hermione, having finished her tale, "I can't seem to speak my mind… I'm nervous constantly… I don't feel like myself anyone… I've must have left myself become really pathetic."
Her mother slowly placed her hand on Hermione's chin, tilting her face to look directly at her mother.
"Don't ever say that again," stated Jean, "You're not anything of a sort… you're going through what I did about this time… the same thing nearly every girl goes through."
Her mother wiped away at Hermione's cheeks and then quietly added," You're changing… so everything you feel and understand is all mixed up with those new things and feelings… it'll be like that for a while… but when its done you'll be your-self again… only there be a whole new side to you."
"I should have done something more," whispered Hermione, slightly angered, "Besides just… just… getting all emotional."
Her mother leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Hermione, pulling her closer into an embrace. Hermione followed in suit and for a moment they sat there together while her mother stroked the back of the Hermione's head, rocking slightly.
Then Mrs. Granger whispered, "No… there's nothing wrong with being emotional about someone you care for."
Hermione was too surprised by her mother's words to do more than become stiff.
"You've talked about this boy since starting at that school," continued Mrs. Granger, sensing her daughter's actions, "I saw how you looked when those pictures came and I see how your eyes are when you talk about him…. witch or not… you're still a girl… soon to be a young woman… and I knew you'd feel this way about a boy at some point… whether it be Harry or another."
Hermione pulled back a little and looked at her mother, slightly puzzled but also worried.
"I won't deny that this makes me uncomfortable…you're still so young… and I suppose no mother is ever ready to accept that their child is becoming an adult… taking those first steps… having those feelings for another," continued Mrs. Granger slowly, "But that doesn't mean I'm against it… like I said I was in your place once before… I know what that turmoil within feels like."
Mrs. Granger broke their embrace and wiped away the last of Hermione's tears, placing both hands gently on her daughter's face.
"Growing up is like… like… becoming a flower," explained Mrs. Granger, "As a child you're a seed… then the time comes for you to break from the shell… and reach for the sky… your future… this is the hardest stage of it all… pushing your way through, branching out… but the time will come for you to bloom… and I know you'll be among the best of them all then."
Hermione sat in awe of her mother and the response. So much of what she said made so much sense. Though it didn't solve her resentment for Harry's situation, it did make her feel that she could find a way to solve it. But she did wonder for a second why her mother had used a flower's growth as the example.
Jean slid off the bed and stood up.
"Why don't you take care of your clothes," said Jean brightly, "Then we'll have some tea and a bit of a snack before bed."
Hermione shook her head and slid off the bed as well towards the fallen clothes.
"Oh by the way, you received a post from a strange owl," added Mrs. Granger quickly as started to close the door behind her, "Funny bird… I have never seen an owl so small… or so energetic."
The owl her mother described could only be one bird in particular, Hermione could recognize from that description. Hermione looked at her mother as she stepping out and saw that she had paused to point to the nightstand. There a letter set, Hermione must have missed it somehow but notice the untidy scrawl on it. She rushed over to it while her mother stepped out and tore it open. It took only a moment to understand what it said but the news was enjoyable enough that Hermione ignored the rules of underage magical use outside of Hogwarts and whisked the fallen clothes to their proper places with her wand. Hermione then dashed out of her room nearly screaming with delight as she reread the letter.
Elsewhere, mid evening had come and the door to the Burrow opened to allow entrance to arrivals. Ron entered along with his mother and Harry followed from behind. Awaiting them were Charlie along with Ginny in the living room. Both eagerly greeted Harry and soon, thudding sounds from the stairs revealed George and Fred coming to greet them as well. Even Mr. Weasley popped in from his muggle-laden shed of junk.
Mrs. Weasley insisted on a late supper for them, even though Harry tried to say that a snack was more than enough but she wouldn't hear of it. Charlie explained that Bill was in Russia seeking a hidden treasure for Gringotts. With everyone around, including Charlie, Harry couldn't help but feel that something was missing or maybe someone.
It was hard to dwell on it as Mrs. Weasley continuous insisted that Harry keep taking helpings, trying to stuff him as if he were a swine being fattened before the feast.
It wasn't too long before Harry would get an answer when Mrs. Weasley shooed them from the kitchen, impressing that Harry should get his things unpacked for the holiday stay. Charlie and Mrs. Weasley remained in the kitchen while Harry with the younger Weasleys left through the living room and ascended the stairs to the separate rooms. Ginny quickly shut herself in with barely a goodnight and the twins' room was already rattling with strange noises before they could shut the door.
Harry continued on the stairs towards Ron's room when his friend's voice stopped him.
"Where're you going," asked Ron standing in front of another door, "Your room's here."
Harry turned and watched, puzzled, as Ron opened the door Harry had passed and entered. After a moment of waiting, Harry headed back and entered as well.
Dumbledore had been right, Dobby had seen to his trunk and belongings as it was already at the foot of a bed within the room. The room was barren of any paintings or imagery on the walls but it had a dresser, bed and a closet. Ron was opening it and taking things out. For the first minutes, Harry watched Ron from the doorway and could see that his friend was starting to have some strange difficulty with the room. Ron would hesitate occasionally and sometimes giving the room a look over with a scowl.
"Ron," inquired Harry, "Is there some… reason… as to why I'm in here rather than your room?"
Ron gave a slight chuckle and responded, "No… it's just that we're both a bit too big now to bunk up in my small room…so we got you a room."
Harry looked around the room again and a strange familiarity came to mind. It took a few moments before Harry realized why and asked.
"Ron," asked Harry, quietly and cautiously, "Isn't this Percy's room?"
As Harry asked, he remembered having not seen Ron's brother even when brought to the Burrow before the term started. Ron froze in place while preparing to put more items into a dresser. Then he opened a drawer, put the items inside, slamming it closed and turned back to the trunk.
"Yeah," he replied stiffly, "It used to be anyways."
Harry looked around again, seeing as the room was bare of any sign of previous residence. However Harry had a strange feeling from the room and couldn't help but inquire further.
"So he's got his own flat," continued Harry?
"I suppose," shrugged Ron, mumbling quietly after that.
He snatched some more clothes from Harry's trunk and shoved them into another drawer within the dresser, closing it roughly. Harry didn't need to as quick as Hermione to know something about this room and Percy was making Ron angry. Harry stared at his friend and considered letting it go, but as cold draft breezing by, he relented to him-self to continue.
"So where is Percy," asked Harry plainly?
"Don't know," replied Ron just as plainly.
"Maybe you're mum does," suggested Harry?
Harry winced as the lid of his trunk slammed shut, banging loudly in the process. Things went silent, even the sounds from the twins room stopped along with the ghoul in the attic.
"No one knows where that bloody idiot went," shouted Ron, rounding on Harry, "He just up and vanished!"
Harry stared at Ron as an orange tint came to his eyes and the room seemed to heat up.
Lowering his volume, Ron snapped, "He just left."
Harry didn't know how to react or what to say but he replied with, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."
Ron turned around, looking somewhat out the window.
"I know that… when the summer holiday began… Percy and dad kept having arguments," explained Ron," Dad kept trying to get Percy to get it through that thick skull that Barty Crouch sneaked his own son out of Azkaban… used the unforgivable curse on him… and well you know the rest… but Percy wouldn't believe it... any of it… one day mum went up to get him to come to breakfast but… he was…well you saw how the room looked."
Harry understood it well enough to get the picture and could easily imagine Mrs. Weasley walking into the near vacant room. No note or any indication… just gone.
"Maybe the ministry could find him," suggested Harry, "He works for them. They ought to know?"
"I really don't give a damn," snapped Ron.
"But he's your brother," asked Harry in confusion?
"Just because he's my brother doesn't make him anything to me," shouted Ron furiously, "You're more of a brother to me than that bastard!"
Harry stared at Ron, confusion rampant in his expression
Ron gave a strange heavy sigh and slumped onto the bed. He leaned forward enough and put his forehead into his hands.
"Look I know you don't get it… but before my life at Hogwarts," whispered Ron," I… I never… I never really felt like I was part of anything… guess I just kind of felt alone."
"Ron," began Harry but his friend cut in?
"I'm not like anyone in this family… because there isn't anybody I relate to, "continued Ron quietly, "You've seen how they all are…. Charlie's strong and Bill's smooth… Percy's smart… they've all been prefects and head boys… the twins, are funny, always involved in something and popular at school… as far as I can remember, Ginny and Mum have always had their own thing... and dad… well he's all obsessed with muggles… so what am I?"
"Well," replied Harry, trying to think of a response to Ron, "You're… you've always been the best friend I could ever hope for?"
Ron turned his head and gave a strange look.
"I used to think that's all I was," responded Ron, "Harry's friend… the little side kick pal to the Boy Who Lived… I think that's how most everyone thought of me."
Harry thought as hard as he could mostly drawing a blank to what he could say. Thankfully Ron continued before Harry's lack of aid became evident.
"Just thought I wasn't worth anything," continued Ron again but his voice began to take on a more pleasant tone, "That first year, I thought I was only going to Hogwarts because everyone else went… I don't remember showing any magical ability before hand… not like you… talking to snakes and making glass vanish."
Harry finally thought of something, though he dreaded how foolish and halfhearted it might sound.
"Ron… you're not worthless," quietly spoke Harry, hesitating slightly, "I never thought that way… that day in the Great Hall… I said what I said because I was… I don't know… afraid of something… that… that might happen."
Ron turned his head from his hands, glanced at Harry again before he lowered them and gave his friend a full look from his face.
"I know that now," responded Ron, giving a quick humored huff, "Trolls, dark wizards, criminals, even a dragon… a whole mess of things I'd never have done if I hadn't followed you."
Harry wasn't sure what to say besides just look back, realizing just how much danger he had dragged Ron into. Ron must have deduced Harry's thoughts as he responded to the thoughts in Harry's mind.
"Not that I'm bothered by it, "quickly added Ron, "Sure nearly getting killed isn't a wonderful thing… but that day we faced the troll… it was great to know that I used magic successfully… I knocked that thing flat out… I think that was the first time I believed I really could be a real wizard… and it might not have happened if you hadn't brought me into it all."
Now a question came to Harry's mind from Ron's confessions.
"Why did you spend all that time at the ministry," inquired Harry, "Hermione's right… you were never one to indulge in so much practice… not that I'm any better?"
Ron thought uneasily for a moment before answering with, "There were a few different reasons… but it started a lot from the end of last term… Harry when you port keyed back… from that place… I realized… I hadn't been any help to you."
"Any help," questioned Harry?
Ron drew a deep breath and released it.
"I wasn't able to do anything to stop what happened," spoke Ron with a strange placid tone, "It's always been you who has to face everything… you faced Quirrel alone… the basilisk alone… mind you that involved my own sister, you'd think I would have done more… you charged the troll… you attacked Sirius… you faced those dementors… you took on Voldemort again… and where was I… in the background… not very helpful position."
Harry tried to mumble something of an audible response but the truth was Ron was mostly right that Harry had to face many dangers alone.
"Well not anymore," snapped Ron, "I don't worry about whether I'm worth something or not… I don't feel like I did before… so the hell with the danger… I spent most of the time at the ministry trying to learn every spell I could get my hands on because I swore that this year was going to be different… you were not going to face anything alone again… even the real Mad Eye Moody taught me a few things."
Harry couldn't help but smile a little. He didn't feel too comfortable about the conversation but it seemed to be something Ron needed to say and Harry didn't know what else to do.
"That's why I followed you so much," added Ron, "Figured if I was with all the time, then if anything happened to you, it would have to happen to me as well… then they'd have to deal with the both of us."
Silence filled the room for a short while Harry tried to contemplate everything Ron had said but whether he understood or not, Ron seemed to be better having said what he needed to.
Neither boy noticed the door to the room as it quietly shut.
Ron stood up and stretched before stating, "Well it's getting late, I'm off to bed and we don't have to up early so I'm going to have a lie in… goodnight."
And with that Ron left the room.
Harry replayed the Ron's words in his mind as he changed into pajamas. It was strange to think that he had so much of an effect on Ron. Nearly four years and it never seem to him that Ron thought that way but then Dumbledore's words replayed as well.
You can know a person for some time and still have such unique things to learn of them…
Such as what their life was like before they came to Hogwarts and how it has been made better…
What someone valued them-selves prior and how those views have changed...
Harry wasn't completely sure but he wondered if Dumbledore was referring to others and not just Ron.
Harry climbed into bed and continued to dwell on Ron's words. Thinking it strange that Ron would be so resistive to his brother or that he valued all the danger Harry had brought to his life. All of those thoughts kept Harry distracted from realizing that his eyes were drooping.
I really don't appreciate the attempt to being ignored…
Spoke a familiar dark voice, laced with viciousness behind Harry.
Harry found him-self in a place he knew but had tried not to return.
What is it going to take to get you to understand that our union is inevitable?
"An awful lot," snapped Harry, turning around, "I don't want the same things you do."
Harry looked on again to see the demon-eyed creature standing before him. A clear outline showed a figure, most likely a male about his height, standing a fair distance away.
A low chuckling echoed from the creature's blood red eyes before its voice growled out…
Oh really…who was it that broke the vase… what were you thinking when the librarian came… it wasn't just me who wanted Snape's neck to break… I didn't bend your book into near two… so don't patronize me by saying you want nothing that I do.
Harry remembered the incidents and had to relent to the accusing words.
The low chuckling returned and it spoke again…
I said before that I would get freedom from you… but that doesn't mean there aren't any similar desires I share with you.
"There couldn't be anything," stated Harry, taking a few steps forward.
A silence remained for a moment before it corrected Harry…
Do you understand why the girls giggle around you… do you know why their appearance is so distracting… what they offer to someone of your… social stature… its something I want… and there is no point in denying those thoughts swirling about in this void called a mind.
Harry could feel himself go warm in the face, sure sign that he was blushing. It was then Harry noticed something. Even if caused by the embarrassing truths being said, he was feeling warm and normal otherwise. The cold within the maze was different, still freezing but not numbingly so. What he really seemed to see so differently was that he could actually see the barer of the eyes. The blinding, putrid fog was no longer present and the walls of maze could clearly be seen of their moss covered, dampen stone.
I especially like the idea of so many people willing to give away so much… many would mostly likely do whatever you desire… and you'd be liar to say that there wasn't some thrill of that for you.
Harry thought quickly to the cheering and attention people gave to him, the mail and packages and how quick they were to do things for him.
I don't see why you have such a problem with it… they're not being forced to do anything… unlike the Dursleys did with you… they made you perform all the remedial tasks of the household.
"How would you know what they did," inquired Harry?
I said before that I know everything you do and more… so yes… I know of those times you had to stay in while other children were outside… I know how your teachers disregarded you based on your aunt and uncle's unique explanations… I know how the other children shunned you because of that porker cousin… I know how you questioned your existence through all that.
It finished by going into a quiet laugh and Harry clenched his fists, feeling a sparking tingle in his body.
"Who the hell are you," snapped Harry his voice low?
There was silence for a moment as if both were studying the other.
Even if I were to clarify your ignorance… most likely you wouldn't believe it…
Harry took another step forward and responded nastily with, "You're the one hiding. Why should I believe anything?"
Hiding… me… I think not… you can't see me because you don't want to… and I think I have proven what I say to be true…
"When," snapped Harry?
Remember Krum… I said he'd have another go at the mud blood… I suggested calling the snitch… I said you'd wake up alone… and I know a few other things as well…
Its words seemed to fill with satisfied contempt from its shrill banshee like voice.
"Like what," inquired Harry?
He had taken a few more steps forward. Now he could see a distinct form to the thing. It was about his height and guessing from the appearance, was also a boy as well. It looked to be dressed in wizard robes and one hand bore a wand protruding from crossed arms.
Careful how close you get… you may not like what you see.
Harry stopped in his tracks, frozen in place. That had been his plan, to finally know the answer of its identity but the question was, did his actions reveal that strategy or was there something else?
It chuckled again but only shortly as it spoke again.
I know some of those dreams regarding your relatives… believe me when I say we could do worse to them than any death eater was ever feared for doing… how about a reminder of those dreams?
Harry heard something swoosh and the scene changed.
For a moment, he was in a cramp dark place, until the squeaking of hinges sounded and a door opened in front of him. The dim light revealed the narrow hallway of the Dursleys' home that led to his cupboard. It was like before when he relived Hermione's nightmare with Krum, only he recognized this scene playing itself before as he stepped quietly from the cupboard.
Harry watched as the hallway came into full view and the scene changed with a turn towards the kitchen door. In an almost instant blur, Harry found him-self in the kitchen, having not seen the motion of walking towards or entering it. Harry's eyes perused the counter top of the kitchen, spotting something in a very dim corner. Another instant movement and Harry felt something his hand gripped followed by a slow scrapping noise. He didn't see what his hand held but the feel of the grip and the scraping sound that had came to his ears gave it away.
Soon he was leaving the kitchen and slowly ascending the stairs. The floorboards of the next level groaned lowly as he walked from the stairs, through the hallway and towards a certain door at the end. Standing in front of it a moment later, Harry felt his free hand touch the door handle and turn it, hearing it squeak slowly open.
A dim room came into view, light from the streets and moon illuminating the room enough to see his sleeping aunt and uncle. Harry watched as he approached them slowly, his breathing slow and deep. No other sound came from the room aside from his uncle's snoring and his aunt bristled breath. Even in slumber, they were obnoxious and loud but Harry felt an urge to end that.
A bright glare reached his view as a slender and thin sharp metal object came into view, glinting light from the window into Harry's face.
From the kitchen he had drawn the sharpest of them all… one that could cut into bone of cook animal flesh… a slender… thin… but long…sharp… black handled… knife.
In that moment, everything changed as the room went dark and cold again. Damp walls of moss-covered stone replaced the scene and the crunch of gravel came to his ears.
A laugh caused Harry to turn and find himself in the maze again, facing that which had haunted him-self since the summer.
When did that dream play out… about seven years ago… and it's only one among many like it… isn't it?
Slowly spoke the figure ahead of him, breathing heavily.
Harry felt nausea take hold of him, the switching between this nightmare and the other had taken a toll on him, making his breath heavy. Harry noticed then that the other too was breathing heavily and didn't seem as exuberant as prior. It was then Harry understood it, whatever happens to him seemed to have an effect on this other. The results between them were apparently the same as Harry felt weakened and so the other creature sounded the same.
"What's… wrong," spoke Harry with difficulty," With… you?'
An effort driven, quick laugh came and the vocal response that followed sounded the same as Harry's speech.
Figure… it… out… your-self…
Silence, aside from labored breathing, came between them and time passed as they both recuperated.
Well that was intensive… a perfect example of something we've both wanted for some time… a little thank you act to the Dursleys' for their… hospitality… per say.
Spoke the creature, sneering, having regained its composer.
"It was only a dream," snapped Harry feeling better as well.
Maybe… but its one we can make true… think about it… who would blame us… who would stop us… or rather who could?
Harry couldn't deny a small feeling within him-self that agreed with it. To do something to the Dursleys was a thought he had many times before. However that was too far but it may have been true… that no one would or could stop him.
How about another example… I think even you won't argue against this one too much.
The same swooshing sound and flash followed, forcing Harry's eyes to close.
When Harry opened his eyes, he was in the potions class at Hogwarts. The scene was very familiar as there was a single large cauldron brewing a purple concoction and Hermione stood at the front of the class where Snape's desk should have been.
It was a recreation of the same incident when Cho held Hermione captive.
She had used a cleansing potion on Hermione's clothes, causing them to dissolve away. Then she had tried to subdue Harry through the aggressive effects of vampire infusion while Ron was detained by the brewing potion.
In this recreation, however, there were differences. Cho and Ron were not present and the cauldron sat idly by with no potion within its containment.
Harry wasn't feeling any urges like before and Hermione didn't seem upset.
In fact she was the greatest difference of all as she wasn't chained to the wall this time.
Instead she stepped away from the front of the class and approached Harry slowly. Something in the way she walked indicated another state of mind but he didn't know what and couldn't help at being intrigued by it.
As she drew closer, Harry discovered that her clothes were still dissolving as before but she didn't seem bothered by it.
Soon Hermione stood before Harry, her clothes barely existent. Before he could say anything, Hermione's arms wrapped around him and he felt her body press hard against his own. Harry's hands came to rest on her skin and the sensations that filled him caused Harry's body to jerk harshly.
Following the motion, Harry sat up suddenly and looked around to find himself in the room provided by the Weasleys at the Burrow.
Harry placed his hand against his forehead.
"Was all that a dream," whispered Harry to him-self questioning his thoughts, "Had to be… it didn't happen like that… Hermione was terrified but then she was… okay with it?"
Of everything he had experience, that moment with Hermione stayed strongest in his mind. The way she walked toward him even though her clothes were disintegrating further. Just remembering that short moment caused his heartbeat to quicken and body to heat. Harry looked at his hands and could still feel a tingling on his skin from touching her. Harry quickly realized that though it was only a dream, he had enjoyed it and wouldn't mind having that again.
When the excitement passed and reality cleared his mind, Harry felt that his throat was dry and he had been sweating. So he decided to replenish his water loss.
After getting up and putting on his robe, Harry headed quietly out of his room and down the stairs. Harry walked into the kitchen, quietly found a glass and filled it with water. He drank it slowly, surveying the snow covered woods of the Burrow. Harry sat the glass down, having finished the water and looked towards the sink. He almost reached for the scrub brush when a voice from behind stopped him.
"Just leave it for the morning," said a woman from behind, "We'll get it with the morning dishes."
Harry turned suddenly to see Mrs. Weasley standing at the entry way.
Harry stood still, solid as a statue from the un-expected company.
Mrs. Weasley, meanwhile, walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.
She smiled at Harry and added, "Unlike Petunia, I don't mind if a dirty dish or glass is left alone for a while."
Harry hesitantly set the glass in the sink and looked to Mrs. Weasley. She waved her wand and the chair in front of her slid quietly out which Harry quickly sat in.
At first nothing was said between the two of them as she made motions with her wand again and a series of actions occurred. The stove turned on and the tea kettle came to a quick boil. Two tea cups, along with spoons, came to set on the table, one in front of Harry and the other in front of Mrs. Weasley. The refrigerator opened and beaker of cream floated out and a jar of sugar followed from a nearby cabinet. The boiling tea kettle then came to rest on the table after floating from the stove. Mrs. Weasley picked it up and poured Harry and her-self a cup full.
Harry did nothing at the moment besides stir the tea in front of him. While Mrs. Weasley helped her-self to cream and sugar, taking sips to test its taste.
"Nothing like a spot of tea to help one relax," stated Mrs. Weasley, breaking the silence," I always find it can soothe a person from a restless sleep… or even nightmares."
Harry shifted a bit and Mrs. Weasley eyed him from her side of the table.
"First off," continued Mrs. Weasley, a gentle tone, "I'd like to thank you for helping Ron… I always knew he didn't feel like he quite belonged… not to what extremes though… but he'd never tell me or anyone else… I guess you have a knack for drawing out what's bothering people… much like Lilly."
Harry stopped stirring his tea pointlessly and stared straight at Mrs. Weasley.
She in turn just smiled while having another sip of her tea before speaking again.
"Wasn't the only thing she could do," quietly spoke Mrs. Weasley, "She was quite good at getting your father to admit to anything… that boy could lie straight face to McGonagall without so such much as a blink or twitch… but face your mother and he broke like an old tea bag."
Harry smiled slightly but he didn't break his visual state as he asked, "You knew my mother?"
Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a look and answered, "They're weren't many who didn't… at least at Hogwarts... but I had my share of adventures with her as well… it was with her I learned that Daken was half vampire but that was because of an incident that happen at Hogwarts years ago."
Harry contemplated for a moment before asking, "Do you mean that love potion from Loralie?'
Mrs. Weasley seemed a little surprised at Harry but she took another sip from her cup, refilled it from the kettle and replied, "Yes… I wonder who told you about that… but I can guess… you know I never knew that the stag that came to our rescue was your father… not until I saw Sirius Black change from that dog… there were rumors but Lilly never said if any of it was true…I suppose the legality of it all would have caused great trouble… what with three boys able to transform and not having told the ministry."
Harry looked away from her and starred at his teacup, he hadn't drunk any of it.
"What is Harry," inquired Mrs. Weasley, before taking another sip from her tea cup?
Harry hesitated for a moment before he replied, asking "Why didn't you tell me before… that you knew my mother?"
Mrs. Weasley slowly set her cup back on the table and made a face suggesting that she was admitting to her-self of having done something not too enjoyable.
After a moment she answered with, "Eleven years… it's a long time to go wondering what happened… that night I mean… your parents killed… you survived… some how defeating Voldemort as well."
Mrs. Weasley crossed her hands on the table and looked away.
"Mind you it wasn't easy… hearing they were both gone… and you just vanished… Dumbledore refused to tell anyone anything of your whereabouts… not to me… not even the ministry… even when threatened with losing his place at Hogwarts," continued Mrs. Weasley, slowly, "Seven children… a bit of a spacey husband… I guess I buried those memories away and kept busy."
A smile came to Mrs. Weasley's face and Harry saw it as a drastic improvement to the distress that had been building prior.
"That was until I started receiving owls from Ron and the boys," spoke Mrs. Weasley with a humored tone, "You and Ronald getting into trouble suddenly… just the fact that you and Ron were friends… in the same house… made me quite happy… almost as if it were meant to be from the first time you two met… I guess I just didn't want to tell you because then I would have to remember the bad things as well… and you had enough of that to deal with."
Mrs. Weasley fumbled with her tea cup as she drained the last of it in one final sip and set it hastily back down.
"Most of my family was already gone when I started at Hogwarts… Lily and I were close enough that I thought of her as family… and so I always thought that way of her," finished Mrs. Weasley," I want you in our lives… my life… because I want Lilly back… and if I can't have her… then I want her son with my own… as one of my own… I want my entire family back… as much of it I can get."
Silence came between them again and Harry finally started sipping at his own tea through it. When he finished it, he soon learned that Mrs. Weasley had something else to speak of.
"Children of magic or muggle families are discovered to be magically aware from the uncontrolled magic they do as children before starting magical training," spoke Mrs. Weasley, her tone suddenly serious.
Harry peered curiously at her for the sudden change in attitude.
"You may have guessed already," continued Mrs. Weasley, "But I over heard the conversation between you two… but Ron is wrong… he did display magical awareness… at a very young age… in fact it was the same night you did… fourteen years ago… I just used the memory charm to make him forget… so I never doubted him having magical ability."
"What did he do," asked Harry suddenly curious and surprised to such a strange secret?
"I can't tell you," replied Mrs. Weasley and added before Harry could be disappointed, "Because I promised myself to tell Ron first… but I'll say this… his father isn't bald because of age… Ron caused it and the hair never grew back."
Something from Mrs. Weasley tone told Harry that she wouldn't say anything more about it and it was then that Harry noticed the light in the room getting brighter. He turned, looking out the window and saw the sun peeking over the horizon.
"Have we been up all that time," commented Mrs. Weasley cheerily, "I suppose I'll get breakfast started… why don't you go have a lie in?"
Harry stood up and turned to put the tea cup in the sink, reaching for a scrub brush in the process. A quick smile from Mrs. Weasley stopped him and all he did was place it in the sink. With that done, he left the kitchen and returned quietly to his room. Sleep didn't come to him as the early morning conversation played over in his mind, including what Ron had said in the late evening.
His mother, family to Mrs. Weasley and Ron had said Harry was more of a brother to him than anyone. He found it strange at how comforting it was to feel so wanted suddenly, even if some mystery and secrecy had played a hand in it all as well. After all his whole life had seemed to become a mystery laced with secrets. Harry crawled over the bed to his trunk and withdrew his journal, spending the rest of the early morning writing in it.
An unknown while later, there came a knock on the door and Harry looked up to see Ron step in.
"Breakfast," announced Ron, yawning, "We better get down there before Fred and George pinch it all."
Ron waited while Harry dressed before they went to breakfast. They enjoyed a large spread of pancakes, sausages, biscuits and a host of other things as well. When they finished with breakfast, Mrs. Weasley had something of an announcement to say.
"Now before anything… we're going to have some guests here tonight for dinner and I want things to be in shape," spoke up Mrs. Weasley, "Ron, I want you to go clean your room…. Ginny, you do the same… Charlie, you'll help with the dishes… and Harry, why don't you go outside for a bit of fresh morning air?"
Ron and Ginny began to walk away from the kitchen without question.
"I could help," stated Harry.
Ron turned and replied, "It'll only be a jiff."
With that Ron hurried off and Harry went to gather his cloak. Harry stepped outside into the brisk and chilly air. Even though it was cold out, Harry did enjoy being outside. He walked a short distance from the house, around the garden for a few minutes before spotting an old shed. It was the place where Ron's father kept his muggle items to tinker with. Thinking about it, Harry realized he had never been in there and decided to have a look.
Opening the rusty-hinged door and closing it from behind, Harry walked into the shed and looked around. Television sets, telephones, stoves, dishwashers, toasters, hair dryers and a seemingly limitless supply of other muggle things littered the shed.
There was one item that caught his attention though. Hanging near the back, swing slightly was the swing bench he had come to know upon arriving at the Burrow before the term started.
For reasons he didn't know, Harry felt drawn to it and took a seat on the cold wood. He leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling very comfortable almost instantly. As soon as he closed his eyes, they needed to open them as Harry heard his name shouted.
"Harry," shouted a voice nearby, "Harry?"
Harry opened his eyes and turned his head to see Ron standing at the shed entrance, a frantic look on his face. A few moments and Harry discovered he was lying down. His body seemed stiff and Harry found him-self still in the swing bench he had sat upon only moments before.
"I found him, "shouted Ron a moment later, presumably to someone other than Harry, "He's in here!"
Harry sat up as Mrs. Weasley came to the shed entrance, giving a sigh of relief to seeing Harry but looking slightly crossed.
Ron walked in towards Harry and asked hastily, "If you were still tired why not just go back to bed rather than give us a fright like that?"
Harry stared groggily at his friend and mumbled, "What are you going on about? I've only been out here a few minutes."
Ron seemed almost insulted but more puzzled than anything as he responded, "A few minutes? We've been looking for you for almost an hour!"
Harry felt him-self becoming more alert, thing about Ron's response.
"I guess I just got comfortable and felt asleep again, "answered Harry, "Sorry about that… I didn't realize I was even becoming drowsy… seemed like one moment I was just sitting here and the next was all this."
Ron gave an exasperated sigh and said, "We just got worried… you just didn't seem to be anywhere all of a sudden… so never mind… we need to get going."
Harry stood up and stretched while asking," Going? Where are we going?"
Ron smirked and answered," The village nearby… you've never been there… Charlie says the pub has got Butter beer now… and with all the Hogsmeade trips you've missed so far, I figured you'd like to explore a bit."
"Ginny's already gone to meet some friends, "added Ron, "And besides Mum wants us all out of the house anyways."
So that's what they did. Harry took a few more minutes to wake up and Ron waited patiently. They left Mrs. Weasley by the shed, bidding her a goodbye, neither noticing as she went into the shed herself.
It took about ten minutes to get there and the path was cleared of snow and ice. Once there Ron and Harry walked all over, using the morning time to see the different kinds of shops and homes there. Harry was surprised to find that not only were the shops of a magical variety but even muggle businesses existed. People from both worlds lived in the same village.
Ron informed Harry that it had taken a while and places like this were still few. Harry did agree it was something to see considering his limited exposure to this life.
Morning passed on and early afternoon took its place. It wasn't long before their stomachs began to rumble and though Harry had thought they'd return to the Burrow, Ron had another idea. He directed Harry to small pub near where they had entered the village. A place called the Dungeon, which Harry didn't find to be an appealing name.
Ron stood at the door while Harry remained in front of the few stairs. Ron realized Harry's thoughts, seeing as he stared at the sign puzzled.
"It use to be an old jail house," explained Ron," But when it was turn into a pub they kept all the bars and stuff… so the named it the Dungeons… weird to you I guess but its always popular."
Harry followed up the stairs into the pub with Ron, still questioning the validity of the name. Inside though, Harry quickly learned that Ron was right. Windows still had bars, even racks for muggle guns still held place on the walls. Manacles and other devices for restraint also held place on the walls. The bar itself was built in front of the captive cells and their supplies lied within.
Though Harry had a creepy reaction, the other people inside were quite enthusiastic. Children were running around, chasing each other. All kinds of people were at the tables or in groups talking and casually chatting. It was a mixture of muggles and magic alike in these groups.
Harry and Ron took a few steps forward before a lady with a heavy Irish accent stepped in front of them.
"Have a seat boys," greeted the lady, "We be a bit busy at lunch but if be patient we'll have you set."
Ron said okay and before they could move a step, the lady spoke again in sudden surprise.
"You got a scar on that head of yours," spoke the lady quite loudly, "I'd be daft fool if you ain't Harry Potter."
Almost instantly every eye in the place turned to them and conversations all but became silent. Harry looked around and sure enough many stood around, some stood from their tables and children looked on in awe.
"Maybe we should go," whispered Harry?
The lady gave him a quick look and then turned around.
"What you all looking at," snapped the lady, "Don't you know it be rude to be gawking like buzzards? Go mind yourselves."
A moment later the returning sound of conversations began to take their place in the room, driving away the silence. Harry and Ron found an empty table near the side close to the door and furthest from any onlookers. A few minutes passed as Ron continued to mention interesting facts about the village and Harry listened, ignoring the occasional looks.
Without warning, two mugs of Butterbeer came to rest in front of them. Ron and Harry both looked to see the same Lady again.
"The name's Ana short for Anabelle but I prefer Ana," stated Ana, introducing herself at last, "So what can I get you two growing sprouts?"
Harry and Ron both asked for sandwiches but before Ana left she mentioned one other thing.
"Don't worry about the Butterbeer," added Ana, "Its already covered."
She turned at left, disappearing into the crowd before either boy could inquire about what she meant.
Some time passed and the boys talked about various things. Ron was looking forward to hearing from Charlie more about the Ridgeback dragons. Harry mentioned to be glad to be away from all the trouble at Hogwarts and Ron agreed quickly.
"Excuse me,' said a voice at their table.
Harry turned and looked to see a young girl, about their age standing there, blushing furiously and looked nervous enough to run.
"Hello," replied Harry, trying to hide his puzzlement and his first thoughts to the girl.
"My… my name… is Michelle," stuttered the girl, "Are… are you… the… Harry Potter."
"Unless there's another one we don't know of," responded Ron with a note of humor.
She smiled nervously and if possible, blushed the deepest shade of red her body could muster before stuttering out, "Can I... may I… see your… your scar?"
Without saying a word, Harry lifted his hand and held back the hair on his forehead. Ron was surprised that Harry didn't give any resistance to her request then wondered about something that might be why. Ron gave the girl another look over and could see that even though at a young age like them-selves, she had quite a defined shaped along with a lovely color of auburn shoulder length hair. The fact that her dress hugged her form a bit tightly only added to the attractiveness she presented. Ron couldn't help but wonder if Harry was charmed by her appearance enough to grant her request. As quick as thought came, an idea came to his mind, reinforced by Harry's next actions.
After thanking Harry for a glance at his scar, Michelle bid them a good after noon and made to leave. As she walked away, Ron could see that Harry's eyes followed her movements and for a moment, observed the departing girl from behind.
"She's pretty," spoke up Ron, taking a drink from his goblet, "You wouldn't think that she may be the same age as us?"
Harry gave his friend an inquiring look.
"I think she took a fancy to you," continued Ron, a smirk appearing on his face, "Who knows… it could be worth a go."
"What are you talking about," asked Harry, his face beginning to redden?
Ron's smirk didn't diminish, rather it widened, as he answered, "Michelle?"
"Michelle," repeated Harry raising his brow to Ron?
"Yes… Michelle," replied Ron, "You know the one you just watched leave quite intently… that shapely girl… kind of like Hermione for example."
Harry's eyes did a dance as thoughts crossed his silent posture as he asked slowly, "What are you getting at?"
Ron lowered his voice, smirked and said with a playful tone of sarcasm, "I saw you looking."
Harry looked away, a mixed expression of embarrassment and worry followed.
"I couldn't," stammered Harry, not finishing, "It just seemed… almost natural… I guess it was kind of rude… may I should."
"You know," interrupted Ron, looking at his mug of Butterbeer as if he hadn't heard Harry, "I use to hear Charlie and Bill talk… even Fred and George… and for the longest time I never understood what they were saying… but I'm beginning to."
At the last statement, Ron leaned to one side a bit and glanced behind Harry. Harry just fidgeted with his mug, staring at it with his brow furrowed.
"Besides," added Ron motioning his head, "Take a look at that lot in the corner by the bar."
Harry moved his eyes to the direction Ron motioned towards and saw three more girls about their age sitting there. They were whispering and giggling quietly with each on subject known only to them-selves. With his eyes averted in their direction, Harry watched as they took turns glancing in his direction and then whispering to each other even more animatedly.
"They've been doing that since we came in," explained Ron, "Watching you that is… giggling and whispering madly in the process."
Harry looked back at his friend and found Ron staring at him with a strange expression.
"I was just as surprise as you are when I started doing that," stated Ron, strangely serious, "But I had my brothers past talk make it easier… you didn't"
Harry didn't respond but continued to stare back. Ron gulped the last of his sandwich and in one swig finished his butter beer.
"The point is Harry… they do the same… girls that is… muggle or magical," continued Ron, "Its nothing to be worried about or think that it's wrong… its just a game kids our age play… until things go further."
"Is that how you met Rela," asked Harry?
Ron smiled before answering, "Kind of… except it also involved her almost getting seriously hurt… kind of an ice breaker there."
Harry wondered what had happened but Ana broke in first.
"All done boys," she asked?
They answered her and she grabbed their dishes, turning away.
"What do we owe you," asked Ron reaching into his pocket?
Ana turned back answered, "Nothing… some admirers in the corner there asked for your bill."
Harry and Ron looked to each other as Ana walked away. Ron stood as did Harry, who rather than follow Ron to the door, went to the girls' table in the corner.
"Hello," announced Harry.
All three girls' sat frozen in place and greeted them as well trying as hard as possible to hold back his surprise to Harry' actions. They each in turn, greeted them back, though slightly haphazardly, obviously unprepared for the encounter.
"My name is Harry Potter," continued Harry, "I wanted to say thank you for accepting our bill, I hope it wasn't too much trouble."
They each denied any trouble from it, blushing strongly as they responded.
"Can we see your scar," bluntly stated the girl to the left, though she went even redder at asking
Harry, as before, held back the hair on his forehead and let them have a good look at it. Each girl asked a few quick questions, the kind Ron was glad to not be embarrassing although from the look of them they were embarrassed enough already. After a few minutes, they bid good afternoon to the girls and left the pub to the light snowfall beginning outside.
The door to the Burrow opened and Ron stepped in followed by Harry
Harry picked up a brush from a pale next to the door and proceeded remove the collected snow. As he did Ginny walked in from the kitchen with a mischievous look to her expression.
"Oh Ron," spoke Ginny with an air of insinuation, "A strange person made a claim earlier that you invited them... any thoughts?"
"Who was it," asked Ron eagerly?
Ginny put her index finger to her mouth as if trying to concentrate but clearly faking the attempt.
"I'm not sure," answered Ginny in the same manner," But such a nice and pretty… girl… how could I disbelieve her?"
Harry watched as Ron tore off his cloak then suddenly began fussing with his clothes, straightening them and trying almost desperately to remove any remaining snow. Satisfied with his appearance, Ron made to move towards the kitchen until Ginny corrected him.
"She's in my room… alone," spoke Ginny, her tone even more insinuating," Settling in."
"Be back in a minute Harry," hastily spoke Ron, rushing off.
Harry gave a puzzled look to Ginny and she answered his thought with, "Rela."
Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, so he shrugged and continued on with removing the snow from his cloak.
"You should go change," suggested Ginny," We'll be having company soon and believe me you'll want to look nice."
Without a word, Harry turned and headed up the stairs him-self, stopping briefly by Ginny's room, having a thought to go in but deciding it a better idea not to interrupt.
He went into his room and walked to the dresser when a terrible thought crossed his mind.
- Nice clothes, - thought Harry, - I don't have anything except leftovers from that porky bastard of a cousin. -
As quick as the came, Harry noticed that some of the items in his room made an odd wiggle as if something brushed by them. There was a cracking sound that followed and Harry looked to see his window cracked along the entire pane as if something had pushed at it.
Ignoring the strange happenings, he opened the drawer to the dresser and pulled out the only slacks he had. To his surprise they were very different than he had expected. The rolled up edges were gone and replaced with neat crisp hemmed ends. The hole in the left side front was gone and the pinned large waistline was shrunken to what looked like his size. Even the faded color of the beige slacks was restored. Harry looked through the rest of the clothes and found similar results for all them. Any damage was gone and any color fade was restored. Anything oversized because of Dudley's gross build was shrunken to fit him instead. He was confused to how this had happened and questioned it until he saw the socks. They were all completely mismatched and Harry only knew of one being that did that.
"Than k you Dobby," whispered Harry.
Dumbledore's words replayed in his mind.
I think you'll find that Dobby has taken care of that.
Dobby packed and brought his trunk from Hogwarts to the Burrow plus decided to fix it all the clothes. Harry made a promise to him-self to get as many strange socks as he could for Dobby.
After a short while of changing and finally deciding on what must look nice, being that the beige slacks and red sweater, he heard some excited voices outside. Harry left his room to the landing outside to see what the commotion was.
He stood at the landing's edge, overlooking the living room below from his new room. The Weasleys were granting some visitors, one to be Daken and another two Harry recognized but was not entirely sure as to why. They were Muggles without a doubt, since both were dressed in the style of slacks and polo shirts but neither presented a wand. He watched the man present a wine bottle and the woman hold up a covered dish of some sort. Harry was sure he knew these people but still couldn't seem to remember how. Fortunately he didn't have to wait long for the answer as it presented itself to him.
"Harry," spoke a familiar girl's voice nearby?
Harry turned suddenly to see a lovely young girl a few feet from him. Looking the girl over, her legs bore white stockings up to a dark blue skirt that was shorter than he was use to seeing. A neatly pressed emerald green blouse that, without witch's robes, revealed more her form and for that second, he couldn't take his eyes off the bushy brown haired girl. Harry realized quickly he was staring and averted his gaze, slightly turning his head, feeling his face begin to heat.
"Hello Hermione," replied Harry.
Following a swish of air with a quick giggle, a groaning of wood, some crinkling of fabric and Hermione came to stand barely inches away from Harry.
"I don't think you know happy I was," quietly spoke Hermione, so much closer now, "To receive an owl from Ron saying that the Weasleys were bringing you here."
Hermione's voice so near, her warm breath wafting by is cheek and the dim scent of a flowered fragrance tickling his sense of smell caused Harry to turn his complete attention to Hermione. Doing this brought about a reaction Harry hadn't felt in a while. He found him-self staring into a pair of chocolate brown eyes filled with emotion and strength but also a desire.
Suddenly there didn't seem to be a Burrow or a landing or even the world. The voices of the greeting chatter below became distant and memory of others presently nearby faded. The world didn't seem to be there nor matter, as Harry felt him-self spellbound by the beauty before him. So drawn was Harry that he moved closer, following a growing need within. He could feel her presence only a breath away and heard a slight gasp. Harry could feel the heat and could almost taste a mint flavor to Hermione's breath, stirring his senses and encouraging further action.
A hand slapped onto Harry's shoulder and reality cut in as sharp as Krum blade into his gullet, breaking the wondrous moment, halting all the sensations like water snuffing out a warm embracing fire.
"Hey you two," laughed a voice from behind Harry, "Get a room."
It seemed instant and may have been as Harry spun around, gripping the arm of the hand, twisting it violently. Sounds of stressed pain and cracking break reach Harry's ears. Reality further took hold as Harry's mind focused and he found Charlie knelt to the floor of the landing. He was holding his shoulder as the other arm remained in Harry's grip, unnaturally and painfully twisted. Harry kept his grip and continued to tighten the twist of Charlie's arm.
"Harry stop," gently ordered a girl's voice from behind, "Let him go… please."
Hermione couldn't believe the site after the shock of that strange but deeply wanted moment abruptly ended.
Harry released his grip and Charlie breathed deeply as the pain dimmed. Hermione rushed by Harry and helped Charlie stand up.
"Hermione," stated Charlie, before she could do anything more, "Don't worry about the arm, its normal when one works with dragons… go back to the others in the kitchen… I think I need to have a chat with Harry for a minute."
"I'm not going anywhere," snapped Hermione, "Not after that."
Charlie was still in pain but he was doing well to manage it. His time with dragons was extremely helpful for the situation, as his arm seem to hang loosely, most likely broken in multiple places. But even so, he still managed to give Hermione a smile.
"Look this is going to require some attention, which will take some time… so someone is going to have to let mother know," explained Charlie, "And it wouldn't be to pleasant if I walked in like this… and like I said I need to speak with Harry."
Hermione sighed deeply, clearly unhappy, but agreeing to the logic. She turned and found Harry with a scary looking scowl on his face. He didn't look at her as she walked by or say anything.
After Hermione descended the stairs and was out of sight, Charlie spoke, "Look I was just having a laugh."
Harry didn't respond verbally but his scowling stare altered to glaring eyes. Charlie just watched Harry before a thought came to mind.
"Harry… I didn't interrupt… that wasn't almost," inquired Charlie hesitantly, suddenly realizing something," Harry… that wasn't almost your first kiss with Hermione was it?"
A low growl seemed to resonate from Harry and Charlie realized the answer to his question.
"Harry… I'm sorry, I didn't," began Charlie, apologetically before Harry cut in.
Shadows seemed to embrace Harry's form as he spoke.
"Do that again," snapped Harry viciously, "And there'll be one less dragon caretaker in the world."
Harry turned on his heel and descended the stairs, heading for the kitchen. Charlie leaned against the wall, pain throbbing in his arm. His mother had warned him that Harry was having trouble but that was more than he had expected. Charlie knew that his experience with Harry was very limited compared to Ron but he never had the opinion of Harry being so dangerous.
A door a few feet away opened a little bit and Charlie could see Rela stare at him, an obvious look of worry in her eyes before she closed the door.
"And mum just warned me earlier," grunted Charlie, turning heading towards another room, holding his arm in place, "Not to do anything surprising around Harry."
A minute later, Harry soon learned that the Weasleys had invited the Grangers and Daken to a holiday dinner with them, realizing that the two muggles were Hermione's parents Lionel and Jean.
Late afternoon passed with conversation and evening followed with a large dinner. Harry answered questions from Hermione parents and I turn did Mr. Weasley, considering his infatuations with muggles. Finally though, late evening came and Molly insisted that everyone leave the kitchen but did not argue as jean wished to stay behind. She half had expected Jean to want to ask something of her and had a guess as to what.
"Molly," spoke Mrs. Granger, looking out of the kitchen," Can I ask you something… about that boy… Harry?"
Molly Weasley stood by the sink, a cup of tea in her hands and looked in the direction of Mrs. Granger's gaze. She was looking into the living room from the kitchen, specifically at her daughter sitting next Harry Potter. Molly had a thought to what may be asked but responded anyways.
"Of course Jean," answered Molly, "What about him?"
"Mind you I mean no insult to him but," spoke Jean, hesitantly, "I've heard Hermione describe him… and things about his life… what I mean is… that there is no doubt he's handsome… probably considered rather dishy to many young girls at that school… but if he's as popular as Hermione says then… I worry that."
Molly interrupted her with," The answer is no Jean… yes Harry's popular and yes, he's definitely has his father's charming looks… but no, he's not the playboy type… he may notice the other girls but his eyes are only for your daughter."
Jean stood quiet for a moment, still watching her daughter and the others around her. Watching as Hermione laughed and smiled or even as she would glance at that black haired boy.
"Lionel and I were really uneasy about allowing Hermione to go to that school," quietly stated Jean, "We almost didn't but she wanted to go so badly."
Molly glanced at Jean, puzzled by her statement.
"It's not always easy for parents with a magical child to adapt to the differences right away," replied Molly encouragingly," You're not the only ones who run into that."
Jean took a deep breath and slowly released it as a smile grew on her face.
"That wasn't the problem… we always knew Hermione had something special… didn't know it was magic at the time," quietly spoke Jean," But what we were really worried about was how everyone would treat her."
"How everyone would treat her," inquire Molly," Did you think she wouldn't be welcomed?"
"I just worried she be treated the same by the other children," answered Jean, "As she was in primary school."
Jean paused for a moment and continued before Molly could inquire further.
"Hermione wasn't… popular… with the other children," explained Jean, "Even as a baby, Hermione was always wanting to learn something and school was quite a strong interest her… and that's not something a lot of children that age share with the same level of enthusiasm… she ended up being lonely most of the time… I don't remember her ever being invited to anything by other children… not sleepovers… not get-togethers… not anything of a social nature."
Jean stopped and looked at her daughter again.
Molly had a question she wanted to ask but decided to wait, as Jean didn't look finished.
"Then we got a letter that first year," continued Jean, "A troll had cornered her in the lavatory and made to kill her… except that boy showed up and charged the beast… a boy and his friend who had insulted her earlier now came to her aid…it wasn't easy to accept… until a letter from the Headmaster said that they were being watched to prevent further danger… but after that we received letter after letter about the things they were doing together."
"She does seem quite happy with them… having friends now," stated Molly, "I know Ron is very happy with Harry and Hermione… and even more so now with Rela."
"That's what I thought it was too," replied Jean, still watching her daughter.
Molly became puzzled by Jean's response and asked, "You thought it was?"
"After that first year during the summer… she wouldn't stop talking about him," answered Jean, "Each year it became more… each year the look in her eyes became stronger and I k new what it was even though she didn't… until now."
"Harry does make quite an impression… just like his father," added Molly humorously.
Jean made a sound of disapproval and replied, "Regardless of what I told Hermione I still don't approve of him."
Molly stared in surprise at the woman but before she could ask why, Jean spoke again.
"That may be a bit harsh but after everything Hermione has told us," explained Jean, "There are people who want him dead… his parents were murdered… and I understand he was raised by some very unpleasant people… so why doesn't he seem bitter at all… maybe its just that she's my daughter and a boy may be taking her from me… but something just tells me he's not what he seems… even us muggles can't go through something like that… and not have something… of a dark side."
Molly didn't like Jean's words but glancing at Harry and remembering his behavior for all these years she had to agree with Jean. No one goes through such ordeals without something that remains lurking within. Remembering the letters from the school and her children's posts regarding the events from the start of the term only further proved Jean's worries.
"You're right," replied Molly, her voice tainted with a bit of a sullen tone, "Harry has not gone through all that unscathed and it has shown… however Hermione and Ron have helped him through more of it than they realize."
"At least she's happy," whispered Jean, "Not so lonely anymore."
"It looks to be that way for both of our children," replied Mrs. Weasley, "I just hope Harry realizes it too… that at last all three of them… are Lonely No More."
Next Chapter
Storm of Torment