Disclaimer: *sob* It's all JK's, I swear, I swear! You can have the fanfic, JK! Just don't sue me! *sob*
Harry James Potter sat up in bed the morning of July 12th, and immediately uttered a loud "OUCH!" He looked up sleepily to see what had just hit him on the head.
It was a tiny owl, flitting back and forth above the bed in an excited manner. In its beak it held a scrap of parchment folded up many times over.
Harry recognized the bird as Pig, formally Pigwidgeon. He grinned, knowing it was a letter from Ron, and eagerly reached out to grab the note. The owl, however, had other plans, and he flew just out of Harry's reach, holding the piece of parchment like a tantalizing piece of candy.
"What the-" Harry stretched out his hand further and snatched at the letter, only to find himself snatching at air. The owl had flown all the way up to the ceiling and now flew back and forth there, apparently very pleased with itself.
Harry's mouth dropped open as he watched the owl flit back and forth with his letter. A sudden wave of annoyance overtook him, and he leapt off his bed and across the room to Hedwig's cage, where she was silently watching the bird up at the ceiling.
"Go get that bird," Harry muttered, opening her cage. In an instant, Hedwig had stretched her wings and soared up to the ceiling, where she cornered Pig face-to-face.
Grinning an owl grin at her, Pig swooped down, deposited the letter in Harry's hand, and then flashed out the window, all in about two seconds flat.
Harry laughed as Hedwig, obviously pleased with herself, nipped his ear affectionately and swooped out the window to find her breakfast (no, Pig was not it).
Harry eagerly opened the carelessly folded piece of paper and read:
July 11th
Hey Harry,
How are you? How are the Muggles treating you? Good, I hope. Well, remember how at the train station Mum said we would get you out of there as soon as we could? Well, we kept our promise. We're inviting you to come spend the rest of the summer with us. We'll take you to Diagon Alley and everything, and I'm sure your Hogwarts letter will arrive at our house. I've sent Hermione a letter too, of course, and we're awaiting her response, and yours too. Send a reply back with Pig as soon as you get this, or Hedwig if Pig's already left (a bit flighty bird, eh?).
Hoping to see you soon,
Ron
Harry could scarcely believe what he had just read. The Weasleys were inviting him to spend the rest of the summer at their house?! No Dursleys for the rest of the summer, and the rest of the year, in fact, until next June?!
In an instant, Harry had gotten out some parchment, ink, and one of his old quills. He sat down at the desk to write out a reply:
July 12th
Dear Ron,
Are you being serious, mate?! OF COURSE I'd like to come spend the rest of the summer with you all! Just send me a letter telling me how you're going to come get me, or if I'm supposed to Floo out of Uncle Vernon's fireplace or something (don't count too highly on that happening). See you soon! Hope Hermione is able to make it!
Harry
He sealed the note just as Hedwig swooped back in, carrying a dead rat in her beak. Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust as he strode over to her.
"Here, take this to Ron," he said breathlessly. "It's really important. And, if you don't mind, could you wait around until he writes a reply? I really don't fancy that Pig bird very much."
Hedwig clucked softly and swooped out of the window with the note tied to her leg.
Smiling, Harry sank into his desk chair, just as another owl flew through the window. He sprang up as a beautiful barn owl with amber eyes landed softly on the bed, depositing another letter on it.
Frowning, Harry went over to the bed to pick up the letter and get a closer look at the owl. He hadn't a faint idea who it belonged to; he had never seen it before in his life. It seemed pretty well-trained, however, as it sat silently on the bed, obviously waiting for him to write a reply.
Harry opened the letter and read:
July 11th
Dear Harry,
How are you? How are the Dursleys treating you? I do hope they're being kind. Ron just sent me a letter inviting me to spend the rest of the summer with their family at the Burrow, and mentioned that he had invited you, too. I can hardly wait to go! My parents and I discussed it, and they of course agreed to let me go stay with them. I just wanted to find out whether or not you were going, too! I'm sure it'll be tremendous fun, with all three of us together. I can hardly wait! Send me back a reply with Bouillebaisse as soon as you get this! (Bouillebaisse is the owl! My parents had him waiting for me when I got home at the beginning of the summer, and I just adore him!)
Love,
Hermione
Harry suddenly found his heart beating very fast indeed. He stared at the word "love" at the end of the letter, an odd ringing in his ears. Hermione had said "love". Hermione had signed her letter "love". Might it be- that Hermione- loved him?
Harry shook his head immediately, realizing that of course Hermione couldn't love him. He was Hermione's best friend, nothing more. Why would she ever like him? He wasn't sexy or cute like some of the other guys at Hogwarts were; he wasn't even all that smart. His hair never laid flat; he wore glasses; and he was known as "The Boy Who Lived". Who on Earth would ever want to date someone like that?!
Still, Harry couldn't help hearing a little section of his brain that said, "Maybe she does love you. Maybe she does think of you as more than a best friend. Maybe she does love you." He pushed that section aside, however, as he knew it couldn't possibly be true.
Nevertheless, Bouillebaisse the owl was waiting impatiently for him to write a reply, so he got some more parchment, ink, and a quill, and sat down to write:
July 12th
Dear Hermione,
I'm doing well, how are you? The Dursleys are- well- they're the Dursleys, you know how they are. Yes, I just got Ron's letter and I almost immediately sent him back a response saying, "YES! TAKE ME NOW!" I, unfortunately, had to use Hedwig, because Ron's owl Pig wouldn't give me the letter at first, and then Hedwig went up and grinned at him and Pig just dropped the letter in my hand and flashed out the window. So it's a good thing you told Bouillebaisse to wait for my reply, because otherwise I would've had to wait til Hedwig came back (I sent her to Ron's) to post your letter. All right then, I guess I'll see you at Ron's house soon! Looking forward to it!
Love,
Harry
He stared at the word "love" that he had written, and realized that he hadn't meant to say that. He'd meant to say "sincerely" but it had somehow come out as "love".
Well, that wasn't too surprising, thought Harry as he tied the letter to Bouillebaisse's leg and launched her out the window. It wasn't as if he hadn't loved Hermione since the fourth year or anything. He was sure she would never love him back, however. Her signing her letter "love" was most surely a mistake. Hermione could never love him. She probably thought of him as a moody Quidditch player with many problems. Come to think of it, that description sounded exactly like Viktor Krum. And Hermione had liked Krum, hadn't she? She'd gone to the Yule Ball with him, hadn't she?
No, thought Harry, Hermione didn't really like Krum. He knew that. She and Krum were just good pen pals, since they both liked to write a lot.
But anyway, reasoned Harry, Hermione couldn't love him. He knew she probably loved Ron. Ron was so- so- so normal. He wasn't always getting into dangerous situations, he didn't have mad mass murderers and deranged rats chasing after him, and he didn't have to either kill or be killed some day in the future. Ron would make a perfect, peaceful boyfriend/husband. He, Harry, definitely would not.
*~*
By noon that day, Harry had recieved a letter back from Ron, sent by Hedwig, telling him that the Weasleys would be driving to their house and would meet him at noon there the following day. They had decided not to Floo there because of that unforgettable episode which had happened the last time they had Floo'd to Harry's house.
Holding the letter in his hand, Harry decided he'd better go warn the Dursleys of the Weasleys' appearance the next day. Sighing resignedly, he laid the letter on his bed and headed down the stairs to the living room.
As soon as he entered, Dudley waddled out of the room, mumbling something about pumpkin pie. Uncle Vernon stared at Harry as if he were holding explosives or something.
"What- what have you got- what do you want-" he stammered, unsuccessfully trying to sound superior and demeaning.
"I'm going to go to my friend Ron's house for the rest of the summer," Harry said clearly, getting straight to the point. "They've invited me to spend the rest of the summer with them, and get me back to- my school- and- everything. They're coming by here tomorrow to pick me up."
Vernon's face turned purple, and his chest swelled. He started to stand up, but just at that moment, Petunia spoke.
"Let him go," she said sharply. Vernon and Harry both stared at her. Petunia ignored this and went on. "Let the boy go, Vernon. At least he'll be out of our sight until next summer, so we won't have to deal with him."
Harry stared at her. Uncle Vernon rubbed his mustache, seemingly thinking it over. Finally, he grunted and turned to Harry.
"They're coming tomorrow and you're leaving, and you're not coming back until next summer," he said. "Is that clear?"
Harry nodded, his heart beginning to swell with joy. "Perfectly clear," he said. He turned back towards the staircase. "Well, I'll go pack, then."
"Just a moment," growled Uncle Vernon. Harry turned back. "These- these- these people- they won't be coming through- through- through our- fireplace again, will they?"
Harry bit back a laugh. "No, they'll be driving," he replied, resisting the mad urge to break out into giggles. And hearing no more questions from neither Vernon nor Petunia, he headed back up the stairs to his bedroom.