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Harry Potter and the Illusion of Doom by HarrynHermione4eva
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Harry Potter and the Illusion of Doom

HarrynHermione4eva

Harry Potter and the Illusion of Doom

By Harrynhermione4eva

Short Author's Note: I'm not dead, I've just been busy. Thanks for being patient.:D

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Chapter 2: The Granger Residence

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This time around Harry was a bit more prepared for the bumpy ride. The bus threw the passengers around and Harry occasionally flew into a window, but he didn't really care all that much. As long as it got him to Hermione's house, Harry was willing to risk a few bruises.

Suddenly the bus stopped, and Harry thought that perhaps they were at the wrong house. The houses that surrounded the bus were large, elegant Victorian-style homes with majestical trees in front that seemed to be reaching toward the starless sky. These houses were much too large to belong to Hermione's parents. Surely dentists weren't this wealthy.

"Number 3, Bavaria Lane, The Granger Residence," Stan said in a dull manner. It was clear by the look Stan was giving Harry's trunk, he was dreading having to lug it off the bus.

"Are you sure we're at the right place?" Harry asked and was almost thrown backward by the force of Stan's laugh. He was laughing so hard Harry was afraid one of his pimples might burst.

"Did ya hear that `Ern?" Stan roared behind his shoulder. "`arry Potter wants to know whether we gots the right place." Ernie, the old bus driver laughed as well, and Stan turned back to Harry, wiping tears from his eyes. "The Knight Bus is never wrong," he said and grabbed Harry's trunk and lugged if off the bus and onto the curb. Harry grabbed Hedwig and his firebolt and ran down the steps. He looked back at Stan who had re-boarded the bus and was smiling at him wryly.

"You have a good one now," Stan said before the Knight bus took off at break-neck speed into the night. Harry sighed and picked up his trunk-which had been placed carelessly on the curb-and rolled it toward the house. He had to open the metal gate to get to the sidewalk, which was surrounded by shrubbery that seemed as though it would swallow him whole at this time of night. His footsteps and the sound of his trunk rolling along the cement echoed into the silence as he came upon the door, which was every much as elegant as the house itself.

Harry hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should really just knock on the door and wake everyone up, or if he should sleep on their porch for the night and bother them in the morning. The former sounded more appealing to him as the wind picked up and rustled through the trees, making them dance in an almost threatening way. Harry propped his trunk up against one of the pillars holding up the porch and placed his broom and Hedwig on the ground as he sat himself down on the steps, contemplating what he should do at this point. He hadn't really thought through the idea of what he would do when he reached Hermione's house. He didn't really expect himself to just waltz right in and have everyone be so happy to see him-although it would be nice. Hermione would probably scold him for not waiting for Kingsley and Tonks to pick him up. Her parents probably wouldn't be too thrilled either to have him waltzing into their home in the middle of the night.

Harry was thrown out of his thoughts when all of a sudden the door behind him was thrown open, and someone hidden in the shadow of the doorway had their wand pointed directly at him. On instinct, Harry stood quickly and pulled his own wand out of his jeans and stood mirroring the person who threatened him.

"Bloody hell," the figure said as it lowered its wand, and Tonks stepped into the moonlight. Harry had never been happier to see her. "What are you doing here, Harry?"

"I-I took the Knight Bus," he stammered as Tonks pocketed her wand and waved at him to put his own away.

"Put that thing away before you turn me into an imp," she said a bit more sternly than Harry remembered her to be. "Why didn't you wait for us to pick you up, Harry? You could have gotten in terrible trouble."

Harry just shrugged. "I couldn't wait to get out of there. My aunt and uncle would have never let me come if I hadn't escaped-I know I told Ron that they said yes," Harry interjected when a look of surprise overtook Tonks's face, "but they would have said no. You don't know what it's like to be there, all alone."

Tonks could sense a bit of sadness under the bitterness of his words. He was right; no one knew how hard his life was. "Come on, then," she said as she placed an arm around his shoulder and lead him inside as his trunk floated behind them, followed by his Firebolt and Hedwig's cage.

It was dark inside Hermione's house, and it frightened him a little. He could barely see, but the moonlight cast a glow on the furniture in what had to be the parlour. From what he could see, the room was furnished with luxurious plush furniture that complimented the opulence of the house. The shadows of the trees from outside made the room look as if he had stepped into an old horror movie and Harry hoped it looked better in daylight. This wasn't how he expected Hermione's house to be.

Footsteps echoing along the walls of the hall startled him from his thoughts, but then he heard a clunking noise, which was all too familiar to Harry. He knew almost straight away who that had to be. Harry heard someone mutter a few words and the tip of their wand ignited, shrouding the faces of a few members of the Order of the Phoenix in a dull glow.

"Harry!" Lupin shouted a bit too loudly and Harry reckoned by the shushes he was getting that Ron and the Grangers were still asleep. "What are you doing here?" he asked a bit quieter.

"Harry here took the Knight bus all the was from Surrey," Tonks said with a bit of amusement in her voice. Harry heard an intake of breath from the crowd and could hear Moody muttering, "Doesn't appreciate the safety of being picked up. Doesn't know the dark magic out to get him." Harry just shrugged them off and picked up Hedwig's cage, moving away from the herd of people.

Harry ignored the whispering that he knew was about him. They have nothing to worry about, he thought. I got here fine, didn't I? I didn't even get myself nearly killed this time. He went to sit down on the steps when he heard a pair of footsteps coming from the top of the stairs.

Harry's unfeeling face broke into a resplendent smile. He had never been happier to see Ron and Hermione before in his life.

Before Harry could even stand up to say hi, Hermione had already rushed down the stairs and threw her arms around Harry's neck in a bone crushing hug.

"I can't believe you did that, Harry," Hermione cried, "but I'm so glad you're safe." Harry didn't know what to do so he sort of patted her on the back, reassuring her that he was all right. He wasn't sure why she was crying. He hadn't had any near death experiences or anything lately.

"I'm fine, Hermione, really, I am," he said and she finally let go of him, letting him breathe a bit. Ron came up beside her and nodded a hello to Harry. Harry returned the salutation and turned back to the big mob of Order Members when he heard his name being called.

"Harry, don't you worry about your thing here," Tonks said as she levitated his trunk, while knocking a vase off a nearby table. "Oops. Reparo," she said and the vase flew back together and back onto the table. Harry turned to Hermione.

"How can your parents sleep through all this noise?" Hermione almost looked as though she was going to laugh.

"I think Tonks put a sleeping draught in their drinks at dinner so she could practice levitating objects while she was on guard tonight. I think it worked, though. They went to bed straight away after dinner." Harry smiled at the thought.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, "You'll be staying in the guest room with me." Harry turned his gaze back to the stairs and nodded as Ron ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Harry followed him, and Hermione behind him with Tonks bringing up the rear as she gracefully crashed Harry's trunk along the walls making so much noise that Harry wouldn't be surprised if the neighbours came to bang on the doors.

"Maybe I should do that, Tonks?" Lupin suggested as if reading Harry's mind.

Tonks rejected his help. "I need to learn how to be more graceful, Remus," she said as Hedwig's cage hit a picture of a younger Hermione on the wall, making it fall on the stairs. The glass shattered and Hedwig let out a loud hoot.

"Yeah, and just the way to do that is to wake up the whole bloody neighbourhood," Ron whispered to Harry, making him smile as he followed Ron down a long hallway into a large room that bore two beds on opposite ends. Hermione walked behind Harry and flipped the lights on, making it easier for Harry to see the rest of the room. There was a television on one side of the room, which clearly had to be Ron's side due to the mess. It looked like Buckbeak had gotten into Ron's trunk and tossed his clothes all around the room.

"I told him to clean it, of course," Hermione said exasperatedly, "But Ron never listens. Ron snorted and threw daggers in her direction with the glare he was giving her.

"You're not my mother, Hermione," he said as he nudged a stray book with his foot. "Besides, you've been onto me about keeping up with my summer work that I haven't had enough time to clean it." Before Hermione could toss back an argument, a loud crash came from the hallway. Harry tried poking his head out the door, but his trunk came hurtling through, missing his head by inches.

"Oy! watch it Tonks!" Ron said irritably. "You nearly knocked his head halfway to London with his own trunk!"

"Sorry there, Harry. You all right?" Tonks asked and Harry nodded. All of a sudden, Ginny walked into the room carrying Hedwig's cage and Harry's firebolt. His eyes nearly dropped out of his head. She turned to him and nodded a hello. He gave her a weak hello in return, mostly out of shock. Ginny had grown a lot in a few weeks and it was clear that Mrs. Weasley had started allowing her to wear makeup. Harry averted his attention to his trunk so Ron wouldn't catch him looking at his little sister. Harry knew that Ron would deck any guy who looked at Ginny like that. ron didn't have to worry though.

Although Ginny looked gorgeous, Harry didn't see her as more than a friend. Harry wondered why Ginny possessed the need to wear makeup? Hermione still doesn't bother with makeup and looks beautiful.

Harry looked in Hermione's direction and saw that she was trying to pick Ron's books up and place them neatly by his bed as if it was dishonourable to leave them laying on the floor. Her lithe body moved easily as she almost looked like a chestnut-haired veela in an intoxicating dance just by doing a simple task like putting Ron's books away. Harry had to shake his head to clear it. One thing he knew for sure, she was still beautiful.

"Oy! Harry!" Ron called from inside the closet. "The right side's mine, left is yours."

"All right," Harry replied, but he wasn't even unpacking just yet. There was a picture on the wall-a woman sleeping in a lucious garden of overgrown vegetation, looking like it had come from Eden. If Harry wasn't mistaken, her chest was moving, and he could almost hear a faint breathing, almost as if the picture was...

"You're not hallucinating you know," Hermione said suddenly behind Harry, making him jump from shock.

"What do you mean?"

"The picture, I saw you looking at it," she said doubtlessly, moving in next to him to study the picture. "My parents found it in Diagon Alley and they loved it, so they bought it."

"Your parents can see her move?" Harry asked bewildered. He was almost sure that muggles wouldn't be able to tell this painting from any other muggle painting.

"Of course not. They're not magical, Harry," she said and went over to Hedwig's cage to let her out. Hedwig hooted softly and flew over to perch herself almost posessively on Harry's left arm.

"Hello girl," Harry said as he walked toward the window. It was a clear night tonight so Harry wasn't worried about Hedwig being struck by lightning or something. She had seen much worse, particularly with that awful Umbridge woman last year.

Harry clutched the hand that will forever bear the scar, "I will not tell lies," the message that had been maliciously etched into his hand in a detention from hell. "Well go on then," said Harry a bit agitated at the memory. Hedwig looked at him with a bit of sadness in her big saucer-like eyes before she turned around and took off. Harry sighed. He hated Umbridge; she made his life a living hell. If he could have only checked well enough to see that Sirius was okay, he would still be here. Why did his life have to be so-

"Harry, have you seen these yet?" Hermione inquired as she walked into the room (Harry never noticed her leave), her arms overflowing with old newspapers. "This," she said in a business-like tone while shoving a newspaper in his face, "is why it was so dangerous for you to come tonight without an escort." Harry's heart sank the moment his eyes laid on the title.

DEATH EATERS ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN

It's no surprise to the wizarding world that recently arrested Death Eaters Lucius Malfoy and Antonin Dolohov among other Death Eaters have escaped from Azkaban prison. Since the Dementors left Azkaban last June, many other prisoners of less danger have escaped as well. (Turn to page 8 for full details and photographs of escaped convicts.) The Ministry suspects the Death Eaters have escaped to rejoin with their leader, You-know-who, and Bellatrix Lestrange, whom Ministry officials have confirmed to have escaped from the attack on the Ministry and the Boy-who-lived last June.

Harry Potter, who put the names of Death Eaters out in the public, has been absent from the media eye since the attack. Gossip has led to believe Potter has closed himself up in his muggle residence, as to stay out of public view. When asked to comment, Potter's two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, had no comment. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Potter's school, was not available for a comment either.

"Why didn't you -"

"Keep reading, Harry."

However, there were some fellow students of Harry that volunteered for comments. Among those were Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, and Cho Chang.

"Harry's going through a hard time," Longbottom, who accompanied Potter, along with others, to the Ministry in June, replied. "I think the media needs to let him breathe a bit before school starts up again. Last year may have been O.W.L.S., but next year will be tough." Cho Chang had similar thoughts: "Harry's been through a lot, and needs a break. He deserves one." Potter and Chang were rumoured to have had a relationship the previous year, but when asked about the relationship, Chang denied the rumour: "We kissed once or twice, but we were both confused; he had seen (he-who-must-not-be-named) kill Cedric Diggory, which was devastating for the both of us. Our relationship has been, and always will be on a platonic level."

Harry scoffed when he read this. He didn't care much, but he found it rather pathetic that she couldn't even admit to having feelings for him beyond a platonic friendship.

"Cho's statement?" Hermione inquired and Harry nodded as he went back to reading.

However, Draco Malfoy had a much opposing view to Harry Potter's absence. "I think Potter's a coward, so he's hiding out. Even though I do my best not to follow my father's example of joining the Death Eaters, I'm positive that Potter knows my father will come after him and finish him off. Potter was only put in Gryffindor because that's where his parents were. Someone has told Potter that my father and his friends have escaped from Azkaban, so he's in hiding until we have to go back to school next year. He's probably hiding out for attention too because he knows papers like the Prophet will print stories about him not being around. It's typical."

Whatever the truth, the fact remains that a second war has started up: the light side vs. the dark side. With Harry Potter being he-who-must-not-be-named's number one target, we can only hope and pray to Merlin that he will stay safe over the summer whilst staying in a home with no magic to protect him, while the wizarding world continues to search for he-who-must-not-be-named and his missing Death Eaters.

Harry felt as though the article should make him scared somehow...but it didn't. Death Eaters had escaped the year before from Azkaban and he was still here...

But Sirius is not. That thought alone made Harry's blood boil in such a strong loathing for Bellatrix Lestrange that his knuckles were turning white just gripping the newspaper. He could still hear that awful laugh of hers and see that retched smile that danced menacingly across her lips after she killed Sirius and the look on her face when he attempted the Crutateous curse on her. She escaped last time, Harry thought, but I swear, the next time I see her, I'll murder her. Harry narrowed his eyes. No, that's not right...I'll mutilate her. They won't even recognise her enough to put out a proper title in the Prophet: "Bellatrix Lestrange, Dead" when I'm through with her.

"Harry, you still with us mate?" Ron asked moving toward them from the closet.

"Oh...right, yeah, I'm here," Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked uneasily.

"I'm fine," Harry lied. "It's a bit of a shock ,but nothing new, really. So I'm just..." Harry prattled on nonsensically, tossing the paper aside and grabbing a different one. "What else is new?" He asked with no real care. "Has Voldemort gone and killed anyone else I know yet? You know, maybe Neville, Cho...perhaps he's finally gotten to Dumbledore..."

"Harry, that's enough!" Hermione said sternly as she glared at him; Harry only glared back. She looked away and he could almost catch a glint falling from her eye.

"Look, Harry," she started shakily, "Ron and I might not know exactly what you are going through, but we would like to understand how you're feeling so we can help you." She looked back at him; her soft mocha-coloured eyes meeting his compelling emerald ones, telling him that she really wanted to be there for him. She will never know how I feel, Harry thought as he continued glaring at her with an expression of stone. They don't know what I have to go through.

"You will never understand how I feel...neither of you," he said, turning his glare to Ron who was clearly frightened by the look on Harry's face. "You have no clue what it's like to grow up with people who hate you. Neither of you know how awful it is to see Voldemort kill somebody, and lucky me!" Harry laughed hollowly. "I've had the joy of seeing, or being near him when he murdered two people," Harry said sarcastically as tears began pouring from his eyes.

"I saw Sirius fall though the bloody veil and I couldn't-" Harry choked on his words. "I couldn't save him; I practically killed him."

"No, Harry it's-"

"Come off it, Ron!" he protested. "Don't tell me it's not my fault, because Dumbledore all ready told me that. He even blamed it on himself!" Harry turned his glare back to Hermione and saw that she was far from the verge of tears; they were all ready pouring down her face. He suddenly regretted making her cry, but he didn't feel bad enough to apologise just yet. If she'd seen the things I have, she'd be just like me: dry, no tears left to cry.

"There's too much pain for you to understand."

"We realise that, Harry," Hermione said with a quiver in her voice, "but if you let it off little by little, maybe-"

"Maybe we should all go to bed," Harry suggested as he started pulling his invariably worn-out trainers off and discarded them unceremoniously over the side of the bed. "It is late, after all-do you mind, Hermione?" He said a bit rudely, flicking his wrist toward the door as he began tugging off the oversized shirt he was wearing. Hermione's face flushed and she muttered a barely audible good night as she left the room to go to her own. Harry looked over at Ron who was still staring at the space Hermione had just recently occupied and Harry knew exactly what he was thinking. How could he have been so insensitive to his two best friends in the world? Especially Hermione who was only trying to help him, and this was how he thanked her?

"I'll be right back," Harry said as he ran after Hermione. He only hoped she hadn't made it all the way back to her room yet and he wasn't sure if he was more sad or relieved to hear her crying softly just inside the door to his left. He pushed the door open gently and poked his head in through the crack in the door. Hermione was sitting on the toilet seat, looking at her hands; she looked worse than before. He had hurt her; that was clear from the expression in her eyes

"Hermione, I-"

"Why, Harry?" she asked him in an empty voice he had never heard her use before. She turned to look at him and Harry only wished he could take it all back. His problems are his own; he shouldn't take it out on his best friends.

Her eyes started tearing up again. "Why won't you let us help?" she asked, almost pleading him to talk to her sensibly. He looked down, ashamed of himself. Why wouldn't he let them help? That was a good question...but that would include having to tell them about the burden he was still trying to comprehend from only a few weeks earlier: the prophecy

"It's hard to explain," he said as he walked over to her and sat across from her on the edge of the antique-looking bath tub. "It's just, people keep asking me if I need help, but they don't understand what I've been through-wait," he said and held his hand up to silence her before she said what he knew she would say. "I know you want to understand, but the truth is, I don't want you to understand."

She looked even more confused now.

"But Harry, that doesn't make any-"

"Yes, it does," He kneeled in front of her and held her shoulders firmly in his hands. "Those memories are painful, and scary, and I don't want you to feel this pain because it's the worst sort of pain possible: being famous just because someone didn't kill you but managed to kill your parents. Being made into a nutter by the daily prophet, being...being" being the only one who can destroy Voldemort he thought.

"Being what, Harry?" she asked, placing a comforting hand on his cheek. He hadn't noticed when his hands had stopped shaking her and fell down to her hips, but her hand felt rather nice on his cheek. He looked into her eyes and her gaze locked with his; her eyes imploring him, asking him, "what is it, Harry?" The look in her eyes, his fragile state of mind, it was all too much. He leaned forward into her embrace, pulling her close to him and let his head fall onto her shoulder as sobs racked his body. Hermione held him tightly to her like a mother would, combing his hair with her fingers; rocking him back and forth as she just let him cry. She knew this was what he needed.

"It's so hard, Hermione," he sobbed into her shoulder. "I-I can't tell you."

She rested her chin on top of his head. "Harry, you know you can tell me anything."

"It's not that easy, Hermione," he cried, hugging her tighter. "I can't tell you...not now at least."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her hands up and down his back soothingly. "It's all right, Harry. You can tell me when you're ready." She pulled back from their hug and looked deeply into his red, puffy eyes. "You know I'll be here, and so will Ron, if you need someone to talk to." She wiped the remaining tears off his cheeks and did something she hadn't done in two years: she kissed his forehead where his scar rested although, this time, it left his body feeling sort of tingly where she had kissed him. He smiled at her and gave her another hug, truly grateful for her always being there for him.

"I'm sorry, you know, about earlier. I just-" he stopped at loss for words. "I just, lose my temper sometimes and I let little things get to me." Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Harry silenced her again. "No, Hermione, I really need to apologise, to you and Ron, for this and every other time I've taken my anger out on the two of you. I'm sorry." This time he kissed her on the forehead and she smiled. That made him rather happy.

We'd better get to bed, then," Hermione suggested as she stood up from the toilet seat and helped him to his feet. "We have a busy day tomorrow teaching Ron and Ginny how to be muggles."

Harry was confused. "What do you mean?" he asked. Hermione just grinned impishly. "You'll see," was all she said before she gave him a quick hug and a good night before she walked out of the room and to her own.

Harry walked back to the guest room, wondering if he did the right thing by not telling her about the prophecy. He still needed time for it to sink into himself first before he shared this news with Hermione or Ron.

Ron.

He needed to apologise to Ron. By the time Harry got back to their room, Ron was all ready tucked away and snoring in his bed. Harry walked over to him and considered waking him, but then decided it could wait until morning when he saw Ron's lips curve into a smile in his sleep. No doubt he's dreaming about some girl. Harry thought as he walked over to his own bed; the need to sleep weighing down every inch of him. He flopped down onto the plush comforter and didn't even bother pulling the sheets over his head. His arms were too tired to allow him to do that.

There was something crinkling beneath him and he mustered up all the energy he had and pulled the object from underneath him. It was one of the latest editions of the daily prophet. Harry read the title and smiled, letting the paper drop to the floor. Harry fell asleep with a peaceful look on his face and not a bad thought in his head. Tomorrow was going to be wonderful.

The Daily Prophet lay abandoned on the floor; the title facing upwards and reading: CORNELIUS FUDGE TO BE THROWN FROM OFFICE FOR IGNORING VOLDEMORT THREATS. Yes, life was starting to look up now.

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I'm soooooooo sorry that took so long, but I'm a busy person, and I tried the best I could to get this to you asap. Chapter three will be coming soon (hopefully soon:D); please review.

Harrynhermione4eva

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