Summer Discoveries

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.

By ten o’clock the following morning, Harry was packed and ready to go. His immensely heavy trunk sat in a corner with basically everything he owned inside it. Hedwig was munching on a dead rat in her cage, and Harry had dressed himself in his best-fitting jeans and a green t-shirt, one that Hermione had once said matched his eyes. A pair of his black robes were folded up at the top of his trunk so that he could put them on once he got to The Burrow later that day.

Now the only question was, what would he do for two whole hours. He had gone down for breakfast that morning to be completely ignored by the Dursleys. Well, not completely. Uncle Vernon had grunted at him, asking what time his “people” were showing up. After Harry had responded, Aunt Petunia had snapped at him not to be “smart” with them and how he was being ungrateful after all the things they had done for him. Harry wisely chose not to respond, and he had just quickly shoveled in the rest of his breakfast (causing Aunt Petunia to add that he was a fat, lazy old pig) and rushed up the stairs to his bedroom, where he packed. Somehow, he didn’t think that he should venture downstairs again until about a quarter before noon. Sighing, Harry flopped back down onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, willing those two hours to pass in the blink of an eye.

*~*

And before he knew it, it was a quarter to noon and time to go downstairs. Harry quickly ran a comb through his hair, trying to smoothen it down, and then straightened his clothes before going down the stairs.

To his great surprise, all three Dursleys were sitting in a row on the couch, looking as if they were about to meet the Queen of England. Dudley’s hair was slicked back, and he was dressed in a suit big enough to fit four people Harry’s size. Uncle Vernon was also wearing a suit, and his purple face looked furious. Aunt Petunia was sharply dressed in a very unbecoming lavender sundress, and she looked from side to side with her beady little eyes every once in a while, as if the Weasleys were going to pop out of the wall or something.

Harry nervously entered the living room. “Er- hi,” he said tentatively to his aunt and uncle.

“Well, boy?” snapped Uncle Vernon, looking up at him. “Are they here yet?”

“Er- not yet,” replied Harry, glancing at his watch. “It’s only ten minutes of noon,” he added. “They said they’ll be here at 12.”

Vernon didn’t respond, just went back to staring straight ahead of him.

“Erm-” began Harry again, then stopped.

“What?” barked Aunt Petunia.

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly.

Dudley let out a huge fart.

“Dudley!” boomed Vernon. “Men don’t do that in public!”

“Dudders!” exclaimed Petunia, scandalized. “Be more like your father, darling!”

“Sorry,” muttered Dudley, not sounding at all sorry.

Harry was relieved when the doorbell rang at that moment. He started forward, but Uncle Vernon sprang up and pushed him back.

“I’ll get it,” he snarled, and he walked briskly to the door and flung it open. Aunt Petunia, Dudley, and Harry followed close behind.

On the porch stood every single one of the Weasleys. Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny all crowded around the door, each beaming up at Harry.

Uncle Vernon looked a bit scared, but then tried to get over his fear by scaring the Weasleys.

“WHO ARE YOU LOT?!” he boomed, looking down at Arthur, which was highly possible, since he was at least two feet taller than him, and many pounds bigger. “WHAT THE RUDDY HELL DO YOU WANT?!”

There was a brief silence while Mr. Weasley tried to regain his hearing, and then Mrs. Weasley took over.

“Vernon Dursley?” she asked, pushing her way to the front of the crowd and extending her hand. “I’m Molly Weasley. I presume you are Harry’s uncle?”

Vernon stared down at this little red-haired woman being so bold in talking to him. “I- am-” he croaked, evidently having temporarily lost the power of speech.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Weasley said briskly. “We’re the Weasleys; we’ve come to take Harry to our home for the rest of the summer. I trust he’s informed you about this?”

Harry pushed his way to the door. “Hi, Mrs. Weasley,” he said, smiling at her. Mrs. Weasley smiled back and grasped him in a hug. “Good to see you, too,” he said, grinning. “This is my uncle Vernon, my aunt Petunia, and my cousin Dudley. They’ve been- er- waiting to meet you-” From the back of the crowd came two identical snorts, no doubt from Fred and George. Harry paused and smiled at them, then continued, “Shall I go get my stuff, then?”

“Oh, of course,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Wait, don’t go all by yourself, take Bill and Charlie with you-”

“Mum, we want to come see Harry’s room, too!” protested Fred and George.

“You’ve already seen Harry’s room, you two,” she replied, “we were here a couple years ago, remember?”

“But it might have changed from then-”

“Mum, I’ve never seen Harry’s room!”

That was Ginny, edging her way to the front of the group. Mrs. Weasley sighed and threw up her hands. “Oh, might as well,” she said. “Fine, all of you go and see Harry’s room, but help him carry his things down as well.”

Harry grinned and turned around, to find Uncle Vernon blocking his way. “Excuse me,” he said firmly, pushing past him, and the rest of the Weasley gang followed.

Harry hung back, allowing Fred and George to take the lead. Vernon and Petunia, obviously realizing they were defeated, stalked out of the front hall and into the living room, slamming the door closed behind them. Dudley followed.

Harry could barely suppress a grin as he watched them go. The last people to follow in the crowd were Ron and- and- Hermione?!

“Hi, Harry,” Hermione said, grinning at him.

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Hermione?!” he exclaimed. “You came?! But- but- I didn’t even see you!”

“Oh, I was in the back,” replied Hermione nonchalantly, still grinning at him. “So how are you?”

“Great!” Harry exclaimed, still unable to believe that Hermione was here, and suddenly, without warning, he threw his arms around her and hugged her.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, obviously surprised.

Harry quickly let go of her, blushing deeply. “Sorry,” he murmured, pink tinging his cheeks. “Sorry, I- don’t know what came over me-”

But Hermione was grinning, her cheeks slightly pink, too. “No problem,” she said, her voice strangely giddy. “Erm-”

Suddenly Harry noticed Ron, standing right there beside her. “Hey, Ron,” he said, blushing even deeper now. “What’s up?”

Ron cracked a smile. “Oh, hello, Harry,” he said. “Didn’t even notice you until now, sorry, I was busy hugging my other best friend.”

Harry grinned and punched him on the arm. “Prat,” he said playfully, and Ron shrugged, then punched fists with Harry, the “man” way.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she watched her two best friends try to act cool together.

“Whatever,” she said. “You guys are so nerdy.”

Harry simply smiled at her, and just then, the rest of the Weasleys came traipsing back down the stairs, lugging Harry’s belongings. Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George were all heaving his trunk, Ginny had Hedwig’s cage, and Mrs. Weasley was carrying his cloak, which he had draped over his trunk.

“Well, ready to go then, Harry?” asked Mr. Weasley briskly, walking over to the door and stepping out onto the front porch.

“Of course,” replied Harry, following him, and everyone else did so, too.

Hermione, the last one, hesitated at the door.

“Shouldn’t we- shouldn’t we say goodbye to your aunt and uncle?” she asked.

Harry laughed. “Better not,” he said. “That’ll probably start a fight, and it’s not like they care that I’m leaving, anyhow.”

Nodding uncertainly, Hermione stepped down from the doorstep and closed the door firmly behind her, then followed the rest of them to the Weasleys’ car.

When all of Harry’s things had been loaded into the trunk, everyone slipped inside the car. It was quite extraordinary, really, that all eleven of them could fit inside such a small car, and have room to spare.

Mr. Weasley winked at Harry when he noticed him staring. “A little help on my part....” he murmured quietly.

Harry grinned and got inside. “Can’t forget what happened last time we were in one of your cars,” he said, and everyone laughed.

Once they had all arrived at The Burrow and had lunch, everyone went their separate ways. Bill, Charlie, and Percy retired to their rooms to do some work. Fred and George went to their room to work on some new business deals, and Ginny was off to Owl-message with all her friends. Mr. Weasley went into his room to get a nap, and Mrs. Weasley buried her head in a couple of books right next to him.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione went up to Ron’s bedroom to sit around and chat. They spent the time until dinner just catching up on each other and exchanging what all had happened with each of them since Platform 9 and 3/4 a little while ago.

After dinner, everyone retired to their rooms again. It had been decided that Harry would sleep in Ron’s room and Hermione would sleep in the guest room. Soon after dinner, everyone went to bed, because of being so pooped out from the day’s events.

*~*

Sometime in the middle of the night, Harry got up, thirsting for water. He quietly crept downstairs and drank some, and was padding back up the stairs when he walked straight into- Hermione!

“Eeep!” Hermione squealed.

“Ooh!” Harry exclaimed.

They both realized who it was they had bumped into, and laughed. Harry looked quizzically at Hermione. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Oh- well-” Hermione looked nervous, and she anxiously fiddled with her hair for a second before responding. “Well, to tell the truth- I was really, um- scared, I guess- and I was coming to see if I could talk to y-”

Harry grinned at her as she broke off, looking even more nervous than before.

“Sure,” he said. “But- um- did you want to, um, talk in the middle of the hallway or something...?”

Hermione laughed, her nervousness ebbing away. “Oh- no- I didn’t really think about that-” she broke off.

Harry grinned. “We’ll go up to your room,” he said. “Don’t want to wake up Ron.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide, and she quickly nodded, then turned, leading the way into the guest room. She crawled onto the bed, and Harry followed, shutting the door behind him.

After a moment’s silence, Harry spoke. “So,” he said, “d’you have a- um- bad dream or something?”

Hermione quickly nodded, then shook her head. “Er... I don’t... I mean- just- well-”

Harry looked at her, and they both laughed. “Oookay,” said Harry, “so... then... how’ve you been, I guess?”

“Pretty good,” replied Hermione truthfully.

“Met any nice guys?” Harry asked, looking sideways at her.

Hermione looked quickly at him. “Why?” she asked, with a slight chill in her voice. “Why? Do you want me to?”

“Oh, no, no!” Harry exclaimed, then realized what he had just said. “Er- I meant- of course- well, if you want to, that is- I mean-”

Hermione shrugged and turned away from him. “What about you?” she asked coldly. “Met any nice girls?”

Harry laughed. “You,” he said simply, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Hermione twisted back to look at him. “Don’t lie,” she said.

Harry frowned. “I’m not,” he replied. “You are a nice girl.”

“But not one that anybody could ever like,” said Hermione, jerking her shoulder away from his hand. “Isn’t that right, Harry?”

Harry sighed, and moved over closer to Hermione. “Hermione...” he whispered, placing a hand on her face and gently caressing her cheek, “why are you doing this to yourself?”

Hermione looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes. “Doing what, Harry?” she asked in a barely audible voice. “Doing what? Admitting that nobody could ever like me in that way? Admitting that it’s already sixth year, and some girls have had tens of boyfriends, and I haven’t even had one? Admitting that even though everyone thinks I’m this huge bookworm who would marry a book if she could, I do have feelings, and I do want someone to- love me, namely you? Admit-”

She broke off and gasped, realizing what she had just said. Harry’s mouth fell open, and he scooted right up against her and grasped both of her hands with his.

“Hermione,” he gasped, his breathing ragged, “you- you- me? Is that- what you said?”

Realizing that she might as well give up and take whatever happened after that, Hermione closed her eyes.... and slowly nodded in defeat. She waited for the rejection, the “But I don’t like you in that way” line, the beginning of the ending of their relationship with one other....

It never happened, though.

All of a sudden, Hermione felt soft lips on hers. Her eyes opened in surprise to find Harry’s emerald green ones staring back at her. “Harry...” she whispered into his mouth, “what...”

“Shhh...” Harry whispered back, “shhh, I... love... you...”

Hermione gasped, and, just at that moment, Harry kissed her with even more passion, pulling her into his arms and kissing her like the end of the world was about to come.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes as waves of pleasure took her over. She smiled, feeling Harry’s mouth against her own, and when they finally pulled back for air, the grins they exchanged were absolutely life-changing.

Hermione lay down on the bed, pulling Harry along with her. He grinned and gathered her into his arms, kissing her ear softly.... and within minutes, they were both fast asleep.

The next morning, Harry opened his eyes to a beautiful summer day. He yawned hugely, then let out a sudden yelp.

He had just bumped into a warm lump buried in the covers. Pulling back the sheets, the past night’s affairs came to his mind with a jolt as he stared at the sleeping form of Hermione on his bed.

A slow grin spread over his face, and he launched himself at her, kissing her soundly. Hermione’s eyes opened, and she also smiled at him through their kiss.

When they pulled back for air, breathing heavily, Hermione was the first to speak. “Well, that was a nice way to start off today,” she said with a smile.

Harry grinned at her and hugged her. “Just nice to know you’re here with me,” he said, then glanced up at the clock across from him on the wall. “Holy Merlin! It’s past ten!”

Hermione also sat up quickly and looked at the clock. “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed. “Harry, Ron will be wondering where you are! He thinks you’re sleeping in his room!”

Harry clapped a hand to his mouth, smothering the bad word that was about to pass through. “Oh, shit,” he said, the bad word coming through anyway. “Oh, shit, I didn’t even think of that!”

Hermione suddenly giggled. Harry looked at her quizzically. “I’m sorry,” Hermione chuckled. “But it’s so funny that The-Boy-Who-Lived didn’t even think of something as simple as that!”

Harry rolled his eyes as Hermione giggled even louder. “Anyway,” he continued, “what am I going to do? Sneak out of here and into the shower? Pretend I was in Ron’s room the whole time?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, Ron would’ve woken up by now,” she said. “He’ll already know. They’re probably all searching for you.”

Harry leapt up from the bed. “Shit,” he said. “Well, then, I’ll just go take a shower. You- erm- get ready to take a shower.”

Hermione giggled again, then nodded. Harry raced out of the room and to the bathroom.

*~*

As Harry walked out of the shower about ten minutes later, drying his hair, Hermione quickly went in. Just as Harry was getting ready to head downstairs, she came out, and with a quick smile at him, went into her room to get ready.

Harry quickly walked down the stairs, trying not to seem guilty. All of that was dashed, however, as he entered the kitchen and saw every single one of the Weasleys sitting there looking at him.

“Erm-” said Harry, trying to break the silence, “erm-”

All of a sudden, every single one of the Weasleys pulled out an AK-47 and shot him erupted in wild cheering, hooting, and clapping. Harry, very confused, just stared at them all.

Smiling, Mrs. Weasley came up to Harry and hugged him. “Congratulations!” she exclaimed. “You two finally realized it!”

“Er-” said Harry, still confused. “Realized it? Realized what?”

“Your’s and Hermione’s love for each other, of course!” exclaimed Ron, who had come up, too, and was now standing next to Harry, grinning broadly.

A smile began to spread across Harry’s face. “You guys- knew?!” he exclaimed. “That we were meant for each other?!”

“Pshaw, of course we knew,” said Ginny, also coming up. “How could we not know?”

Just at that moment, Hermione came down the stairs, looking confused. Almost as if acting on instinct, Harry grabbed her and kissed her. A loud cheer of hooting issued from the Weasleys.

When he released her, Hermione stumbled and blushed, her cheeks pink. “Erm,” she said, “thanks?”

Ron grinned at her and Harry. “Finally, it’s happened!” he exclaimed.

“But Ron,” said Harry, confused, “I thought you liked Hermione!”

“Aw, no,” said Ron. “Hermione’s one of my best friends! I like Luna.”

He realized what he had just said, and immediately turned bright red, as everyone else in the room broke out into laughter.

Harry and Hermione grinned at him as everyone, still laughing, settled down to eat their home-cooked breakfast, and have one of the best summers they’d ever had so far.