Chapter 4: Arrivals and Surprises
Once the room had stopped spinning, Harry looked down to find his aunt sprawled on the ground. He bent down to help her up.
"Here, Aunt Petunia. Traveling by Portkey takes some getting used to, I know. I would have Apparated along with the rest, only there were so many aurors, and Rita Skeeter buzzing around, and I can't risk being seen at it. See, I'm not actually old enough to Apparate legally yet, but Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore decided it would be best if I learned as soon as possible, so I could get myself out of trouble more easily. Ron and Hermione have learned too." Harry realized he was babbling and stopped.
"Thank you, Harry," Aunt Petunia said shakily. She looked around, dazed. "Where did you say we were?"
"Oh, right. Sorry about that. This is Grimmauld Place, the headquarters for the Order."
"For the what?"
"The Order of the Phoenix, Mrs. Dursley. A society of people with a common goal: the final and lasting defeat of Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore had appeared right beside them. "You will learn all you need to know, in time. But before anything else is said, I believe there is a nice hot meal calling your name downstairs, and that you and Harry have not eaten anything for quite some time. Yes, Harry," he continued, raising a hand to cut off Harry's protest, "I realize that you are eager to be reunited with your friends, but I for one do not relish the idea of explaining to Molly why I let you skip dinner. Off you go, now."
Harry smiled weakly as he began leading the way down to the kitchen. While he did want to see Ron and Hermione, he knew full well that Dumbledore was right and Mrs. Weasley would never forgive either of them if he didn't eat something.
Just outside the kitchen door he was greeted by one of Mrs. Weasley's bone-crushing hugs.
"Oh, Harry! Thank goodness you're all right! We were all so worried-"
"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley. Really, I'm fine," Harry managed, trying to pry himself away.
"We've already eaten, but I made you some dinner. It's just about ready. Come in!" She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Harry standing bemused in the hallway. He was about to follow, when a blur of brown hair came flying down the hallway and careened into him, nearly knocking him off his feet.
"Harry!" Hermione shrieked. "You're safe! You could have been killed!
Are you hurt? Don't scare me like that!"
"Er, sorry," Harry grinned in spite of himself. "There wasn't much I could do about it, you know."
"It must have been horrible," Hermione continued without loosening her grip on him. "I would have been scared to death."
"I wasn't there when the attack happened. I was in London with Aunt Petunia."
Hermione turned and seemed to notice Aunt Petunia for the first time. For a moment they stared at each other uncertainly. Then Harry decided to intervene.
"Aunt Petunia, this is my friend Hermione. Her parents are Muggles too, so she understands what it's like to suddenly find yourself in a different world." He hoped Hermione would realize that he wanted them to be friends; all she knew about Aunt Petunia was what Harry had complained about in previous years.
Hermione did seem to understand; at any rate, she smiled and extended a hand to Aunt Petunia. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Dursley. Harry's told me all about-I mean-"
"I think I have an idea of what Harry's told you," Aunt Petunia replied with a wavering smile. "I wish I could say he was wrong."
Hermione looked at her awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to respond. She was saved by Mrs. Weasley, who suddenly reappeared and began ushering both Aunt Petunia and Harry into the kitchen.
"Now, dears, you just sit down and make yourselves comfortable. I've made you some hot soup, so I don't want to hear any more discussion until you've both finished. And that goes for you too, Ron," she added, addressing the doorway behind Harry.
"Aw, Mum-"
"I mean it. Let the poor boy eat in peace."
"Hi, Ron," Harry said, grinning at his friend. "Good to see you."
"Good to see you too, mate," Ron replied, leaning against the door frame. "Aren't you going to tell us-"
"That's it!" Mrs. Weasley marched towards Ron, brandishing a wooden spoon. "Out of the kitchen. Out!" Ron beat a hasty retreat.
Harry started gratefully on the soup. He hadn't realized how hungry he was; it seemed like no time at all before he was staring regretfully at an empty bowl. Aunt Petunia must have been watching him, because almost as soon as he'd finished she pushed her own bowl towards him. It was still full.
"Aren't you hungry, Aunt Petunia?" he asked, concerned. Aunt Petunia shook her head, and Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Here he was, thinking about food when only hours ago his uncle and cousin had been senselessly murdered - Was this where he was headed? Would he look at Voldemort's next victim and see just another body, with no more significance than that of a squirrel hit by a moving car? Wasn't that how Voldemort himself viewed the Muggles he killed? A sudden feeling of nausea made Harry push the soup away. Muttering some words of thanks, he got up from the table, anxious to be alone.
Harry went through the dim hallways on tiptoe, uncertain of whether there was still anything on the walls that would start screaming if disturbed. The portrait of Sirius's mother had finally been removed, with the help of Dobby and his house-elf brand of magic, but who knew what surprises the house still held for unwary occupants?
As he approached the room where he had slept on his previous visits to Grimmauld Place, Harry gradually became aware that there was some commotion going on farther down the corridor. He could hear raised voices, and by the time he had reached the door he could recognize Ron's shouts.
"GIVE ME A BREAK! JUST SHUT UP AND STOP PRETENDING THAT-"
"Ron, I'm not pretending anything-"
"OH, REALLY? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU HAVEN'T SPENT ALL SUMMER THINKING ABOUT HIM-"
"Of course I was thinking about him! I was worried, we both were-"
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEAN, AND YOU KNOW IT!"
Harry had a distinct feeling that he was the last person meant to overhear this quarrel, but he found that he couldn't break himself away.
"WHY DON'T YOU JUST SAY WHAT YOU MEAN, THEN?" Hermione was shouting as well, now.
"OH, YOU'RE ONE TO TALK ABOUT THAT! ALL THIS TIME YOU'VE BEEN TELLING ME YOU LOVED ME-"
"I DID LOVE YOU, RON!"
"Did?" Ron was suddenly very quiet. "I see."
"Ron, I-"
"No, you've said enough. Now get out of here. Get out of my sight."
The door flew open and Hermione rushed out of it, colliding with Harry. She stepped back, gave him a horrified look, and disappeared down the hallway. Harry was left face to face with Ron.
"You. You heard everything?" Ron's face was calm, but his voice sounded strained. Harry nodded without meeting his friend's eyes. "I didn't mean to, though," he added hastily. Ron gave a jerk of his head that might have been a nod.
"Fine. I understand. Completely. None of this is your fault. Just let me alone."
Harry hesitated, stung by the obvious sarcasm. "I didn't mean any harm-"
"Course you didn't! You never mean any harm, do you? Things just happen, and there's nothing to be done about it. Why are you still standing here? Go find Hermione. That's what you both want, isn't it?"