Journey Home by Jardyn39
Chapter Nine: Mud
Harry found himself standing and staring into the forest. It was almost completely dark now and the night was getting colder.
He shifted his weight slightly and realised his muscles were cold and stiff.
He must have been standing there, at the edge of the forest, for hours.
Harry turned his back on the trees and slowly made his way back to the castle.
He carried away with him the uneasy feeling he'd arrived there with.
Something about Ginny's reaction had stirred something within him. He just couldn't describe what it was, nor why it made him feel this now, whatever it was.
The closest thing Harry had felt before was the absolute dread in the days leading up to the final battle. Then he had both dreaded what would inevitably happen and wished for it to hurry up and get it over with.
The same feeling was back, but this time he didn't know who or what his enemy was.
*
Harry entered the main entrance lobby from outside. For a moment the subdued lighting was blindingly bright until his eyes became accustomed.
Professor McGonagall was waiting for him.
He wondered who else had been watching his eccentric behaviour that evening.
"Professor, would it be alright if I spoke to Professor Dumbledore's portrait in your office?"
"He won't speak to you, Harry," she replied.
"Why not?"
"You need to place your trust in the living, Harry. Not the dead."
Harry gave an angry huff.
"Go to bed, Harry. Hermione will be worried about you. It's gone eleven."
These last words shocked Harry out of his anger. He looked disbelievingly at his wrist watch. When he looked up again, she'd gone.
*
Harry stopped for a moment to get his bearings. He was standing on the grass verge of a quiet country lane. It had been at least five minutes since any traffic had passed him, and that had been an incredibly noisy and smoky farm tractor.
He stood next to a pole carrying power cables to the farmhouse he could see a few hundred yards ahead. Behind him, Harry could just about see the brightly coloured rendering of the village Pub through the trees.
Opposite him, on the other side of the road was an inconspicuous dirt track leading off into nowhere.
Harry was almost sure this was the one, but he wasn't positive.
He crossed the road uncertainly, and was about to admit to himself that it might have been sensible to take Hermione up on her offer to provide specific directions, when he saw the stone marked hidden in the thick hedges.
Harry strode off down the track, peering through the gaps in the hedges each side to see the fields.
After a few minutes of walking, he took off his coat and slung it over his shoulder.
He had Apparated as close as he could, into a clump of trees just outside the village. Apparently, something about the geology of the local area made Apparition impossible, so this wasn't an area popular with wizard families.
As he walked, Harry reflected upon the past few days. He wasn't very proud of himself.
Every night this week he had found himself at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just staring and worrying for hours at a time.
His teaching was suffering too. He had been tired and irritable. He resolved, again, not to take his frustrations out on his students. He didn't want to be that kind of teacher.
Worse still, he still hadn't managed to talk to Hermione about it and he knew this was upsetting her.
Part of him was even a little relived that she had gone to stay with Ginny and Neville for a few days. At least he wouldn't have to see her try to hide her hurt look.
*
Harry walked on for at least an hour before the track he was following headed towards a small wood. As he got to the tree line, the track did an abrupt right turn.
He walked forward, leaving the track and walking the few yards through the trees.
There wasn't a path to follow but the trees were spaced far enough apart for Harry to know where he was going.
He exited the wood and stepped onto a wide gravel path. On either side were generous grass verges and beyond those a row of plants that definitely should not have been in flower at that time of the year.
He walked on, enjoying the sights and fresh smells of his surroundings.
Presently the path curved around and brought him to a large two-storey cottage. The whitewashed render walls and thatched roof looked almost new.
Harry walked up to the front door and knocked loudly. There was no answer and no sound of activity inside.
He didn't try to open the door, but instead walked around the side to see if there was anybody in the back garden.
There were no side gates nor fences, and Harry found himself standing on the rear patio looking at one of the most beautiful gardens he had ever seen.
Harry walked forward, down the steps and along the gravel path to the small fountain in the middle where four gravel paths met, quartering the lawn.
He stopped for a moment and couldn't resist dipping his fingers into the warm water. The gentle sound of the water falling into the stone feature was quite relaxing.
Harry heard footsteps coming towards him along one of the side paths.
Luna was walking towards him with a wide smile on her face. She looked quite extraordinary, with a wide summer hat and flowing white robes. She was carrying a large basket of fruit from the small orchard.
"Harry, it's wonderful to see you!" she said as she approached.
"Hello, Luna," said Harry warmly and she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "The country life seems to suit you. You look amazing."
"Thank you, Harry," she replied. "Come and have some tea."
*
Luna placed a steaming cup of tea in front of Harry.
"Thanks," he said, and immediately realised this wasn't tea as he knew it. He smelled cautiously before taking a sip.
"It's herbal," she said taking a sip from her cup. "I made it myself."
"Nice," lied Harry, trying to ignore the bits still floating around the green liquid.
"Now, it is alright if I go, isn't it, Harry?"
"I promise not to upset him," said Harry. "Well, not on purpose, anyway."
"Exactly. I can stay if you want, but I was really looking forward to seeing Ginny. Hermione wrote to me and hinted that she was upset."
"Maybe some herbal tea would help," said Harry, struggling not to grin. Fortunately, Luna wasn't looking.
"That's a good idea, I think I will take some."
"Luna, this place is great. Those roses are especially nice."
"Yes, they are rather wonderful. Neville spent an entire day planting them for me."
"All I remember of this place was a muddy field, the last time I was here."
"Well, I got fed up living in a tent so I decided to build something more permanent while I waited."
"You still think he might come to his senses, then?"
"Of course, Harry. Everyone needs space, at some time in his or her life. These things take time sometimes. We've made lots of progress."
"And I'm here to mess that progress up, aren't I?"
"I didn't say that, but if you could manage not to drive him deeper, I would be grateful."
"You're kidding?" said Harry before he could stop himself.
"He did stop digging for a while, but I think he started again recently after Ginny and Neville stopped by to shout their hellos."
Harry sighed.
"I won't get my hopes up then. Still, I have to try and talk to him. It wouldn't seem right not having him as my best man, despite everything."
"Of course! Congratulations!" cried Luna. "Molly sent us an owl inviting us to Arthur's party, and she mentioned it then. We, er, didn't quite make it though."
"I really don't know why you put up with him, Luna," said Harry, but she wasn't listening.
"Right, I think I've got everything."
"Are you sure about Apparating, Luna? How long has it been?"
"Quite a while," she admitted.
"Let's not take any chances," he said getting up and picking out a dried twig from an arrangement in a vase on the window ledge.
He tapped it with his wand and said quietly, "Portus." The twig glowed electric blue for a moment.
"Here, this will take you directly to Ginny's lobby."
"Won't you get into trouble?"
"Probably, but Kingsley hasn't sent me a reprimand for days now," he replied with a grin.
"Get Hermione to help you practise Apparition before the journey back. Don't take any chances. She'll want to guide you back anyway, knowing her."
"Okay. Thanks Harry."
"Ready? Three, two, one."
In a flash, Harry was standing alone in the kitchen. He washed their two cups up in the sink and made his way back out into the garden.
He was outside before he remembered.
Harry returned to the kitchen and placed his wand in the kitchen drawer. It sealed itself upon closing. No one but himself could reopen the drawer.
Harry could almost hear Moody's objections, but Harry had promised Luna that he wouldn't take a wand.
He walked down the gravel path to the fountain and then went straight ahead.
As he went he mused about how, at one time, he felt so helpless and vulnerable without his wand. These days held no such fear for him. A year of intensive personal tuition from Dumbledore had rectified that, or rather he thought it had.
Harry snorted to himself remembering how confident he had been that Professor McGonagall wouldn't have anything new to teach him about defensive magic when she took over responsibility for his training in his Seventh Year.
He had underestimated her then, and he was still doing so.
*
Harry followed the neat gravel path. After a couple of hundred yards the grass verges narrowed and on either side the cultivated fields extended for what looked like miles. The landscape was totally flat other than a few dotted woods.
After a few minutes the path diverted around a small clump of bushes that Harry remembered was where Luna had made camp the last time he was here. He vaguely remembered her telling him that these particular bushes had magical properties and shouldn't be disturbed.
Once he had passed the bushes, the path reverted to its original course, a dead straight line from the rear of the cottage.
*
As Harry approached, he wondered what on earth he was looking at. The path just came to an end, and Harry was suddenly reluctant to step onto the grass for the final few yards.
Harry listened. All he could hear was a gentle breeze in the nearby trees and a few crows in the distance.
There was no sign of movement either.
Harry stepped onto the soft grass and noticed Luna's footprint impressions.
He approached the structure and decided to walk around the edge before venturing inside.
Harry's first impression was of a timber pioneering fortress. It was largely made of rough timber logs and the main walls were definitely there to keep people out except that there was also an open timber scaffold at the front that went high into the air. There were no lookout positions that Harry could see.
He continued to walk around. He hadn't seen an entrance yet, although there were places he thought he could climb up.
He also saw a rope and pulley arrangement. Presumably that was where Luna delivered his food.
Harry saw movement inside at last, but he pretended not to notice.
He walked on slowly, rounding the first corner.
This next side was near to a wood and there were several stumps left. Presumably this is where he got most of his timber.
Harry walked to the next corner and looked along the rear wall. This face, and probably the final one, faced open fields.
He turned and retraced his steps until he found a large dry tree stump that he sat upon and surveyed the fortress before him.
Harry had the uneasy feeling that all this was to keep him out.
As he looked up, he realised that for some inexplicable reason, a burnt out car had been incorporated into the defences. Presumably he had found it somewhere.
Harry had been tracking the silent movements within the fort, but when he had turned he had lost his position.
He realised with some shock that he was now staring right into the face of Ron Weasley, looking out at him from between a gap in the timbers.
"How's it going Ron?" Harry asked coldly.
Ron didn't answer.
"I see you've been busy."
No answer. Harry had heard from everybody else that had visited Ron, that he never spoke and rarely showed himself.
Harry was about to say, "Nice walls," when he remembered that it was his sarcasm that had marked the end of their friendship in the first place. He had stood in the middle of a muddy field and said, "Nice hole."
Not the thing to say. He had regretted it immediately, but his repeated apologies were rejected to the point when Luna asked him just to leave.
Harry hadn't taken Ron's troubles seriously at all. He would like to think that he would have matured enough to react differently had the same situation occurred. Unfortunately, a nagging part of him wondered if he would just point and laugh, although he had resisted ever actually doing that. He just felt like doing it.
For some time, Harry was worried that Ron would be carted off to some insane asylum. Luna insisted that she could look after him and Ron's parents hinted that this kind of thing wasn't unknown in the family, although neither Molly nor Arthur could quite agree on whose side of the family that was.
"Are you okay, Harry? You look kind of lost."
Harry realised he had been quietly contemplating for a few minutes.
"I think I could be better, actually, Ron," he replied with a smile.
"Where's Luna?"
"She's gone to visit Ginny."
"Oh."
"So what are you building here? It looks very impressive from this side."
"What? Oh, this. I just felt a little vulnerable, that's all."
"And this helps?"
"Not much, but it isn't finished yet. I've been working on something else lately."
"Luna mentioned she thought you were digging again."
"No, I stopped again."
"Really? Well, I'd like to see what it's like inside."
"Sorry, Harry. I would show you but there's really no way in. You might as well go home."
Harry stood and walked over. He looked up. The outer line of timbers which formed the external wall were about twelve feet high at that point.
"I don't fancy climbing up there," observed Harry, although privately he thought he could do it.
"No," agreed Ron with a hint of relief in his voice.
Harry looked down.
"How deep did you sink them in?" Harry asked. "Quite a way, I'd imagine."
"Yes, Harry. Really deep. It varies, but some go down at least three feet. It's because of the subsoil here. Bugger."
As Ron finished speaking, Harry levitated three adjacent trunks cleanly out of the ground. The bottoms left their muddy post holes with a satisfactory sucking noise as the vacuum was broken.
Harry decided it would be best if he didn't actually break the timbers, but he was able to place them to one side with minimal damage to the ropes that were holding the timbers in place.
Harry grinned at Ron through the gap in the fence.
"Show off," retorted Ron. "I suppose you want to come in. Mind your head coming through; I know it's still the widest part of your body."
Harry thought he deserved that, and let it pass.
He stepped inside.
The open compound inside was almost entirely covered with wet, slippery mud. In one corner the open scaffold tower rose high up into the air. It looked even more rickety and unstable from the inside.
In the opposite corner was a remarkably clean bathroom suite, complete with WC, bath and basin all sitting on a raised platform with chequer pattern floor tiling. There were no walls.
In the adjacent corner was a small kitchen, again on a small platform.
The final corner had a simple hammock and what looked like an open wardrobe.
"All the mod cons, I see," observed Harry.
"Luna insisted," muttered Ron.
"I would have installed a few internal walls, though. And maybe a roof, or is the mud part of the décor?"
"Ha, ha," said Ron flatly.
"Ron, how on earth did you build all this on your own?"
"Well, Luna cut down and levitated all the larger timbers. She also transfigured some of the more odd shapes I needed."
"So, she's been helping?"
"Well, she was. She stopped when she realised I was building that thing."
"Why are you building that tower, Ron?"
"So I can see," he answered with frustration in his voice. "It isn't quite high enough. I can almost see it, but not quite."
"Hang on, Ron," said Harry with dawning realisation. "You built that? Without magic?"
Harry was quite used to seeing structures built and held up using magic that looked impossible and defied every physical and common sense law. Here though, was a rickety and dangerously leaning tower that really was rickety and dangerously leaning.
"The trouble is," continued Ron, ignoring Harry's concern, "that every time I get up the top to add a bit more on, something falls off the bottom. It gets a bit hairy sometimes, especially when it's windy."
"You surprise me, Ron," said Harry, torn between amusement and dread.
"The problem is that without Luna helping, I've had to borrow timbers from the walls."
"What is it you are hoping to see, Ron?"
"Well, I don't know what it is. It looks like some kind of building, but there are too many trees in the way."
"Didn't you ask Luna?"
"Yes, but all she would say is come out and look. Ridiculous."
"Sure, Ron. Ridiculous," repeated Harry with a sigh.
Ron nodded and Harry smiled at him.
"You know, for a while you had me going," said Harry.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, all this time and I've been thinking you were barking mad, and then I get here and you're saner than I am. Now, this tower proves it. I now know you really are barking."
"I stopped barking ages ago," retorted Ron, "when another dog started barking back. It sounded quite big."
Harry looked around and spotted the excavations in the centre of the open yard.
He gingerly made his way over across the slippery mud, careful to be extra cautious as he neared the edge in case he should slip and fall.
Harry peered over the edge. Instantly his fear of a fall was replaced with derision.
"No way!" he shouted. "How many months have you been digging? Or should I say years?"
"I don't know what you mean, Harry," said Ron sheepishly.
"All this time and you've only managed to dig a hole this small! I was sure you'd be halfway to China by now."
"Well, there have been a couple of setbacks. The sides keep falling in and I still don't know how to use that Muggle spade thing."
Harry stifled a laugh and asked, "Couldn't Luna help?"
"No, she said the hole was all mine to dig."
"Shame. Still, three feet isn't too bad."
"No," agreed Ron, "and there were stones."
"But you're pleased with it. That's the main thing. Nice and comfortable for sitting in."
"Shut up, Harry."
*
"You know, this is oddly relaxing," said Harry, wiping his face and realising his nose was still bleeding.
Ron grunted. He appeared to be checking for broken teeth.
They were both sitting in the bottom of the hole at this point, having slid in whilst fighting each other. The bottom of the hole was even muddier than the rest of the compound.
"I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't come here to provoke you, I promise."
"No?"
"No. Well, maybe I did. I've been feeling odd the last few days."
"Odd?"
"Yes. Amazing isn't it. Out of all of us, I actually believe Luna's the only one who's really coping."
"How so?"
"Well, Neville's worried silly about Ginny, Hermione's worried about me and we're sitting in a muddy hole. Perhaps it's the herbal tea."
"You want to watch that stuff, Harry. It can be quite addictive."
Harry snorted.
"So, are you happy, Ron?"
"Happy?"
"I mean, sitting in this hole and building towers."
"That's not all I have, actually."
Harry raised his mud encrusted eyebrows.
"Well, alright. But Luna keeps me company. She brings me food."
"But you stay in here the whole time?"
"No. She insists that I have to go with her when she performs her fertility rituals in the woods other there. I don't mind that. I mean, I can cope with that."
Harry was about to ask exactly what rituals Luna performed, when he realised, he really didn't want to know. If Ron hadn't been covered from head to toe in mud, he could have sworn he was blushing.
"But why a hole, Ron?"
"I wanted to escape, I suppose. I felt I'd lost everything."
"How can you say that? I didn't understand then and I still don't," admitted Harry.
"Harry, I lost three brothers, remember? All killed."
"I know that," Harry said gently. "What about those who lived though? Your family and friends who loved you, then and now."
"I just felt I'd lost them to you."
"That is ridiculous," said Harry, feeling his anger rise up again.
"Is it?" retorted Ron. "When it was all over, it was like everyone was so relieved and happy you had survived and really couldn't have cared less that I had too."
"You are so wrong."
"It was like the whole family adopted you and threw the spare away."
Ron's use of the word, "spare," was a hurtful reminder of Cedric Diggory's murder.
"No, Ron," Harry managed to say.
"The final straw," said Ron, his voice strained, "was when Mum hugged you first. No hesitation."
"What?"
"Well, you probably don't remember. You were pretty much out of it."
"Actually, I do remember parts," said Harry, straining to remember. "Didn't she hug Hermione first, anyway?"
"Did she? Great, I was even less important then."
"No, Ron. Molly had been crying solid for ages. She could hardly tell who she was hugging. I bet she couldn't even see, let alone think straight."
Ron was quiet for a moment.
"I suppose that could be right."
This admission rather surprised Harry.
"You wouldn't have said that the last time we talked."
"No, probably not. You need to sit for quite a while in a good hole in the ground to get a perspective of these things."
"Shame it has to be so muddy," quipped Harry.
Ron snorted and looked around. It was as if he suddenly realised he was sitting in a muddy hole.
"Um, Harry? Why is Neville worried about Ginny?"