Unofficial Portkey Archive

Ok, it's only 3k words roughly when I said it would be 7.5. So sue me.

All right, this is my second official challenge response (the first being the smutty piece I did for Heather-Sinclair's Pine Fresh Challenge; check her profile, not mine). I'm surprised I was able to keep this rated-R as it is, my smut muse is wayyyyyyy to strong for me. With that said, have fun and please review!

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Who Turned off the Water?

A challenge response by Yours Truly, TheGreatFox2000.

Link to the 'Don't Ask' challenge:

http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=11318&st=0&#entry155508 (copy and paste)

Rating: R

Categories: Angst/Humor

Summary: After Harry's fifth year, he's left to his own devices at the Dursley's until he receives a strange letter from Dumbledore, and an even stranger surprise as a result. Response to the 'Don't Ask' challenge by Digital Dodo.

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Harry lay on his bed at Number Four, Privet Drive after an unimaginable day of chores at the hands of his aunt. Remembering wistfully his experience with the de-gnoming of the Weasley garden, he wondered if Ron would ever complain again if he knew the activities the Dursleys put him through.

Sprinkling fertilizer on the lawn wasn't so bad, nor was weeding the garden. But when Aunt Petunia told him to get rid of the old tree that had finally fallen over in the back yard, Harry knew he was in for a long day. Considering he wasn't able to use magic, he thought he did a good job of it. He had gone into the shed and found a hatchet that he would be able to use to cut up the limbs and take them to the nearby disposal plant before hacking into the trunk, and set to work.

Five hours later he was finally done. Although glad to be laying on his bed out of the beating heat of the sun, he remembered why he didn't mind the chores as much as anyone else would. To put it simply, the physical exercise took his mind off of Sirius. It was the only thing keeping him sane for the three weeks that he had been there. Now, relaxing in his room waiting for his Aunt to shout at him that dinner was ready, Harry slipped into the state of depression that haunted him every time his godfather's memory crossed his mind.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft tapping on his window. Looking up, he saw Fawkes perched on the sill outside, waiting patiently for entrance.

'What's he want with me now?' Harry thought inwardly while walking over to the window, knowing that only Dumbledore would have sent the phoenix. Fawkes swooped into the room once he was allowed entrance, and dropped the letter on Harry's bed before fluttering down next to Hedwig and taking a small drink of water.

Harry took the envelope in his hands and opened it, only to find a small bronze ring fall out, along with the parchment on which his letter was written.

Harry,

Anger rose in Harry and he crumpled the parchment and threw it into the corner of his room, startling the two birds. It was just like Dumbledore to do this to him. Send good old Harry a portkey and make him wear it all the time, just because he didn't want to tell the date of its activation in the letter. Even if the letter had been intercepted, why or how would Fawkes still deliver it to him?

His thoughts were interrupted once again by the sound of his aunt calling him down to dinner, followed by Fawkes swooping out the open window. Resigned to his temporary fate, Harry slipped the ring onto his finger and made his way downstairs to his so-called family.

"Where have you been?" asked his aunt as Harry walked into the kitchen.

"My room," he muttered, not looking at her.

"Well come over here and set the table," she replied, turning back to the stove. Harry grabbed plates and silverware out of the drawers and cabinets and placed them on the table that was already laden with several of Dudley's favorite dishes. Frowning inwardly, he placed the utensils and plates on the table as he heard a car door close, followed by the sound of a key turning in the front door's lock. Shortly thereafter, the loud thundering of his cousin's footsteps came from the hall.

"Hello, Duddikens," Petunia said in a babying voice as he plowed through the kitchen, knocking Harry over in the process and went straight into the dinning room.

"Boy, help Petunia with the cooking," said Vernon entering and giving his wife a kiss on the cheek. Harry nodded, picking himself up from the floor and went over to his aunt.

"Put this on the table," she said handing him a large platter of veal cutlets. Carefully he took the platter and set it on the table as his cousin and uncle sat down. Petunia came into the kitchen and placed a bowl of string beans ('It's good to have your green vegetables, Dudders,') on the table, taking her seat at the same time.

The dinner progressed rather quickly, Dudley kept talking about his last boxing match, and how he nearly set a record for quickest knockout.

"Twelve seconds into the round, I say," he said, shoveling veal into his mouth. "Only took one punch to knock 'em down."

"Well done my boy," Vernon said. "What do you think Petunia?"

"Hmm? Oh it's wonderful of course," she said. "Harry take that blasted ring off, it's clinks every time you pick up your glass." At this, Harry brought his fork to a halt in mid-air, and set it back down on the plate.

"I...uh...can't," he said fidgeting slightly.

"Boy, if your aunt tells you to do something, you do it," his uncle retorted.

"Why can't you take it off?" asked Dudley, suddenly interested in anything that might get Harry in trouble. Seeing he wasn't going to avoid this, he decided to come up with the best possible lie he could think of.

"It's protecting me from Voldemort," he said, silently praying that the Dursley's would buy it. "If I take it off, he can get to me, along with the people I'm near," he added, hoping to convince his aunt and uncle that it was a good idea to let him leave it on.

"So, as long as you wear it, then Volermold...whatever his name is can't come here?" barked Vernon.

"That's the idea," Harry replied. His uncle looked at his wife with contemplation.

"Fine," Petunia said at last. "But pick your drink up with your other hand, then."

"Sorry," he muttered before Dudley resumed his boxing discussion, obviously disappointed to see Harry get his way.

The rest of dinner passed in silence, and much to Harry's gratitude, he was allowed to go back up to his room without having to clear the table.

Sighing, he grabbed a photo album of him and various people at Hogwarts from his trunk and lay down on his bed, looking through it.

The first picture was taken in Harry's third year, right after the quidditch final. In the chaotic celebration that ensued, Fred and George had taken it upon themselves to obtain some Firewhiskey for the older students, and as a result, the majority of the quidditch team was very drunk. Only Harry was sober.

Being that he was in third year, Hermione had flatly refused to let him drink, saying that consuming alcohol at such a young age could stunt one's growth. He had retorted by saying that Butterbeer had alcohol, but she countered with the fact that you would probably have to drink about a hundred of them to equal what one shot of firewhiskey would do. Although, Harry remembered, Ron had made quite a start on that, having downed what looked to be about twenty of them already.

Hermione. Harry turned the page and found a picture of only her and him, taken by Colin Creevey during his fourth year when he and Ron weren't on speaking terms. The two people in the picture had their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders and were smiling and occasionally nudging each other in a friendly manner.

Upon seeing Hermione's picture, a clenching sensation began to start up in Harry's chest, one that seemed to eat at his soul. Closing the album, he sighed and buried his head in his pillow. That had been happening every time he thought of her. Ever since the Department of Mysteries incident, Harry had wondered what exactly he would've done had Hermione died that night, along with why he suddenly had trouble keeping his mind off of her.

"Probably would've ended up blowing the place to bits," he said bitterly into his pillow. These strange thoughts had haunted him for the first two weeks, when after waking up from a nightmare one night, he realised exactly what all of it meant.

Well at least he thought he did. Being that he grew up with the Dursleys, he couldn't really be sure of what love was, but from what Harry had heard, it sure felt like love to him. No longer was Hermione the friend who helped him with his homework and personal problems. He knew he would never be able to look at her the same again, feeling what he did for the only person who ever truly understood what it was like to be Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived.

'How am I going to deal with this?' he thought before he drifted off into a sleep filled with nightmares of Hermione dying over and over again.

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A week had passed since Harry had received the ring, and he was still stuck at Number Four, Privet Drive, his so-called home. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he rose from his bed and fumbled around for his glasses before finding them and putting them on. Remembering that it was July 31, and therefore his birthday, he looked to his desk only to find it devoid of letters.

His brow furrowed in confusion. With the exception of his second year when Dobby had purposely hidden his letters from him, his friends had always made sure that his letters, along with his presents were waiting for him when he awoke.

He hadn't expected nothing. At the very least he expected a letter from Dumbledore hinting on when the bloody ring on his finer would take him to Grimmauld Place. But there was nothing of the sort. Maybe something had arrived, and he just hadn't seen it yet.

"I didn't receive anything while I was asleep, did I, Hedwig?" he asked his snowy owl. She hooted firmly and the flew out the window for a morning hunt. "Guess not." Deciding that since the Dursley's were most definitely not going to celebrate his birthday, he walked down the hall without dressing to take a shower.

Upon entering the bathroom he immediately turned on the water, and after using the bathroom, undressed himself of his pyjama bottoms and stepped into the hot spray.

He ran his hand through his wet hair and sighed. It wasn't already bad enough with the death of Sirius, and his usual imprisonment in Little Whinging, but having everyone forget his birthday? It didn't seem right. Scratch that, it didn't seem fair. He sighed as a thought of Hermione flashed through his mind again. Out of all the people whom he figured might forget his birthday, her name was on the bottom of that list.

As he though about it a bit more, he realised that he shouldn't think about her in the shower. Somehow a picture of Hermione at the Yule Ball in her amazing blue dress with the slightly revealing neckline and a very high slit up the side of her thighs kept running through his mind, causing some of the blood in his brain to leave on vacation for other places.

Although he never admitted it to anyone besides himself, Hermione had looked positively amazing that night. Though she had been 14 at the time, spending an extra half year running around with a time turner had made her body become much more mature, and much more difficult to not look at. 'Especially with that bloody dress not helping matters,' he thought as the last of the blood in his head seemed to evacuate the premises.

Grumbling a bit to himself, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to think of something that would eliminate his 'excitement'. Perhaps Snape in supermodel lingerie. This proved to be a bad idea, as the shock from that image caused Harry to slip on the wet floor of the shower, and fall down hard on his arse causing an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. Groaning, he closed his eyes to make the queasiness pass. Finally, the spinning sensation stopped and he opened his eyes to find that the lights were off, and the water had stopped running.

'Must be a power outage,' he thought. 'But that wouldn't cause the shower to stop. Who turned off the water?'

And then all of a sudden, the lights turned back on.

"SURPRISE!!!" shouted the entire assembly of people behind him, but the cheering and applause immediately ceased when they realised the situation. Harry simply sat there in all of his glory, sporting a full-blown case of excited male hormones, wondering whether or not closing his eyes would make it all go away.

"Er....you might want to put something on, mate," Ron said, his face as crimson as the hair on his head. Enough blood finally made its way back to Harry's brain for him to realise the exact situation he was in, and promptly bolted from the kitchen basement faster than he could've riding his firebolt.

The assembled group looked around at each other with looks of shock, embarrassment, and amusement. Anyone who had a knack for spotting things could tell that Moody's magical eye was fixed firmly on the ground.

"Well now," said Fred with his arms crossed. "That was..er...interesting."

"I told you this wasn't a good idea," Molly said looking at Dumbledore sternly.

"I have to admit, I certainly didn't expect this.....outcome," the headmaster said with a bemused expression.

"Oh stop it, all of you!" Hermione shouted, clearly unsettled by what had just happened. "Look at what you've just done to Harry and all you do is sit here and joke about it. I'm going to check on if he's okay." With that she stormed out of the room.

"She has it bad," George said with a chuckle once the door to the basement kitchen had slammed shut.

"Real bad," agreed his twin brother.

Upstairs Harry was laying in his bed after having dried off on his sheets and thrown on some clothes from his trunk (which had apparently been transported along with him), wondering how he should feel about what had just happened.

He supposed he shouldn't be so mad about it, but somehow not telling him that he shouldn't have been showering with the ring on made him even angrier at Dumbledore. Not to mention the fact that Hermione had seen him with a raging hard-on, though thankfully she didn't know it was because of her.

He was considering how resolve this when a soft knock came at his door.

"Harry?" Hermione called, and he immediately felt a blush creep up his cheeks. "Are you decent?"

"Yeah, come on in," he replied sullenly. She entered and he regretted letting her in. Seeing her in a tight green t-shirt and hip huggers was not going to help to improve his mood, much less his blood pressure.

"I'm so sorry about all of this," Hermione said looking at her feet as she sat down on the bed beside him.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked.

"For letting them convince me to go along with it," Hermione replied. "I didn't want to, I knew that when you woke up and didn't see anything from any of us it would only make matters worse. And then there was the issue of you getting transported here........."

"Naked?" Harry finished for her when she didn't continue, to which she nodded.

"I assume you were taking a shower?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"....yeah," he replied after some hesitation. "JUST a shower." Hermione looked up and smiled slightly.

"I didn't say anything to suggest otherwise," she said with a slight grin. "Although I'm a bit curious as to who the lucky girl is." Harry's eyes widened at this.

"What makes you think I was thinking about a girl?" he asked cautiously.

"I would hope you were thinking about a girl," she replied shrugging. "But if you prefer the male gender, then there's nothing wrong with that." Harry crossed his arms at this before looking away.

"I'm not gay," he replied firmly.

"I know that!" she replied laughing. "Honestly, it was a joke."

"Hmph," came the reply.

"So come on," she said smiling. "Who was it?" Harry turned and looked at her, but regretted it instantly because another blush appeared from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. Smiling, Hermione leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before getting up. "Thanks," was all she said as she left the room and closed the door behind her.

"What the hell just happened?" Harry asked to the air.

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Well that's it, I know it ended kind of abruptly, but I didn't want to add more, for fear of turning it into a full length fic. That's all for now, and DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!