Title: Through the Fire
Author: Goldy
Disclaimer: Still belongs to JKR. Still not mine. Still can't afford to be sued.
Spoilers: Books 1-5, spoilers for Lines Crossed
A/N: This is the sequel to Lines Crossed, which needs to be read before this to make sense. Not that a whole heck of a lot happened in Lines Crossed, mind you.
A/N 2: Yes-I've finally gotten to the sequel. We'll see how much success I have with this thing. I'm actually attempting a (*gasp*) plot this time around.
A/N 3: Indeed, the title comes from Buffy. Sorry. I've been listening to the Once More With Feeling soundtrack way too much this weekend and I've been tossing and turning over titles for weeks. At least I didn't name it Under Your Spell, right? *hits head* I did my best! *wails*
Rating: PG13 for now-I might have to up that for later chapters. We'll see what happens.
Special thanks to my betas James and Kristin for their awesome editing skills.
To save the day
Or maybe melt away
I guess it's all the same
So I will walk through the fire
'Cause where else can I turn?
I will walk through the fire
- Walk Through the Fire, 'OMWF'
***
One month, two weeks, and three days.
Harry sighed as he crossed another day off the calendar hanging by his bed.
One month, two weeks, and two days, he said to himself.
The time seemed unbearably long. Flopping on his back, Harry stared at the ceiling of his small room at number four Privet Drive. The clock on his bedside table warned him that it was a little after midnight on a July, Tuesday morning.
Try as he might, he was unable to fall asleep. He glanced at Hedwig's cage, unsurprised to find that it was still empty. Harry had left his window open so she could come and go as she pleased. With a small pang, he discovered that a little bit of company might have been nice.
Unwillingly, his mind drifted to Hogwarts and he closed his eyes, picturing the Gryffindor common room. So many nights he'd spent there trying to catch up on homework, or nights spent with Ron and Hermione trying to solve the latest mystery. Or, last year, nights spent with Hermione, just because…
One month, two weeks, one day, twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes.
Harry was beginning to grow frustrated by his isolation at the Dursleys'. It reminded him of his feelings at the beginning of fifth year. He hated being cut off. Last year hadn't been as bad. With the death of Sirius and the news of the prophecy on his mind, Dumbledore hadn't dared leave him long with the Dursleys.
But now…
Now the war was even closer.
You must stay where you are safest, Harry. We are doing everything we possibly can. Rest assured, we will contact you should the need arise.
Owl Post was revealing pathetic little. Harry had even gone so far as to renew his subscription with the Daily Prophet, if only for a small snippet of what was going on in the wizarding world.
He couldn't believe that Dumbledore was doing this to him again.
Not that he could have voiced his annoyance. He was under strict orders to keep his letters to the barest minimum.
In a pile on his desk was a stack of letters, some from Ron, most of them from Hermione. Though he was grateful she was writing him, her letters did little to satisfy him. They were sparse, a few lines scribbled together to assure him she was doing fine.
Not that his letters to her were any better. If it hadn't been for her assurances of love in every letter, Harry would almost be able to convince himself that last year had never happened.
He missed her. And Ron, of course. But the way he missed Ron was completely different from the way that he missed Hermione.
He liked to think that their relationship was strong enough to survive the distance and uncertainty, but it was drawing near a month now since he'd last seen her. If he was brutally honest with himself, he could admit that some part of him was fearful that she'd move on or fall out of love with him.
Looking for reassurance, Harry sorted through the letters on his desk, and picked up the one Hedwig had delivered to him yesterday.
Harry,
Things are quiet here. I've been doing lots of schoolwork, that essay Snape assigned ended up being three roles of parchment! I hope you're getting a start on your work, don't leave it to the last minute, you know you'll regret it.
I know your birthday is coming up, I only wish I could be there with you to celebrate it. This is maddening, being so far away. I miss you.
I hope you're doing well and that your aunt and uncle are treating you all right.
I love you,
Hermione
With a sigh, Harry folded up the letter and threw it on top of the pile before lying back down on the bed. He eyed his calendar, the time until Hogwarts seeming unbearably long.
He knew he should write Hermione back.
I'll do it in the morning, he thought to himself, closing his eyes.
***
The morning of Harry's seventeenth birthday dawned wet and rainy. Harry, who woke up around five, lay in bed, listening to the rain pelt against his bedroom window.
I'm seventeen.
Hedwig blinked at him from his cage, as if confirming his thoughts. The floor out in the hallway creaked and Harry knew his aunt had just gotten out of bed to prepare Vernon's breakfast before he went off to work.
Having passed seventeen birthdays at number four Privet Drive, Harry knew that his aunt and uncle were completely unaware of his birthday.
As such, they would have no idea that he was legally able to do magic.
Sitting on his desk was Harry's wand. Harry had placed it there before falling asleep, so it would be the first thing he'd see upon waking up.
Pulling back the covers, Harry dressed quickly, shoving his wand in the back pocket of his jeans. He paused at the doorway, Hermione's voice loudly chastising him in his head.
You know you can't do magic around the Dursleys! There are strict laws about performing magic in front of Muggles, Harry. Don't go abusing this power just because you can. You know you're more powerful than them, there's no need to go and prove it.
Harry felt a flash of irritation-annoyed because it was true. Not that it mattered. Harry was beginning to realize that he could get away with nearly anything.
He was the only one that had the power to defeat Voldemort.
And while he was unwilling to use that to his advantage, his annoyance at being kept in the dark the last few weeks left him feeling reckless.
He strode into the kitchen, where Uncle Vernon and Dudley were both gorging themselves on a plate full of bacon and eggs. Harry sat himself down at the table, grinning.
"Good morning!" he said cheerfully.
Vernon choked on his eggs. Dudley was paying too much attention to the television to notice what was going on around him.
"Why, yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry continued. "I would love some eggs. How nice of you to offer."
Petunia turned around, holding the frying pan in the air and looking down her nostrils at him disdainfully. "Would you like so more, Duddlekins?"
Dudley's eyes never left the television. He gave a grunt of consent and Petunia dished the rest of the eggs out onto his plate.
Harry sighed.
Vernon's paper rustled as he turned a page. "Barely any news," he grunted. "Nothing new. Only more disappearances."
Harry's head snapped up. "What?"
Vernon's eyes narrowed. "Something interesting in that, boy?"
"Might be, yeah," Harry said, trying to swivel his head around to look at the paper.
Vernon snatched it out of sight. "There's nothing… nothing… no funny business… in these missing people."
Harry snorted. "I'd hardly call Voldemort a laughing matter."
Aunt Petunia dropped the frying pan at the sound of the name. Vernon slammed the paper on the table. Dudley didn't look away from the television.
"You know what?" Harry said, waving a hand. "Forget I said anything."
Getting up, he retrieved the frying pan from the floor and set about washing it. Back to his aunt and uncle, he hoped they wouldn't ask him any questions. They were about the last people he wanted to explain the prophecy to. They remained silent and, after a moment, Harry heard Vernon beginning to flip through his paper.
Placing the pan on the stove, Harry went to get some eggs out of the refrigerator. "Do you know what the date is?" he asked.
"Of course I know what the ruddy date is, boy," Vernon snapped. "What kind of question is that?"
"Then you're aware, of course," Harry said, breaking the egg on the side of the pan. "That today is my birthday."
"What?" Vernon asked suspiciously. "You're not expecting gifts or anything of the sort, are you?"
"My seventeenth birthday," Harry said.
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"It means," Harry said, turning around. "That I'm legal in the wizarding world."
Three blanks stares met his.
"I'm legal to do magic."
"WHAT?" Vernon hollered, his paper shaking indignantly in his hands.
Petunia whimpered and looked faint.
"Yeah," Harry said. "Neat, isn't it?
"You-you-I-better-not-catch-you-doing-funny business in my HOUSE!"
"Alright," Harry said, flipping his eggs over. "But it would be good for you to remember, I can do magic. More importantly, I will if I need to."
A loud crack from outside made Harry jostle the pan in surprise. Nearly spilling his breakfast on the floor, he quickly glanced out the window above the sink.
"That noise," he said. "It… it sounded like a car backfiring."
Vernon was still seething over the bombshell Harry had dropped on him. "One hint of-of-that nonsense and you are gone, boy, do you hear me? I will not tolerate it in my house!"
Harry ignored him, eyes still scanning the outdoors. He was sure he'd heard it-the crack of an Apparating wizard.
He was certain it had to have been a member of the Order, no doubt checking up on him.
But he had no way to verify it.
Constant Vigilance.
Harry reached for his wand and swallowed nervously.
Vernon's eyes went wide. "Put that thing away!"
"Quiet!" Harry hissed.
Maybe it was the warning in Harry's eyes, or maybe it was the fear caused by Harry's wand, but Vernon followed Harry's orders.
Wand pointed out in front of him, Harry crept out of the kitchen and inched along the hallway towards the door.
I'm safe as long as I'm in here, he thought to himself, creeping along.
Harry glanced behind him. The three Dursleys were huddled in the kitchen, watching him with wide eyes.
We're safe as long as we're inside, Harry thought again.
The doorbell rang.
Harry jumped, nearly yelling out a disarming spell from sheer instinct.
"Answer the door!" Uncle Vernon whispered from behind him.
Harry shot him a dirty look. "I'm trying not to get killed here, okay? Just… let me handle this."
Harry crept forward, heart pounding.
He stared at the door, indecisive. It was probably an Order member.
Summoning up his courage, he held his wand in one hand and opened the door with his other.
The door had barely swung open when something launched itself into his arms. He stumbled back a step, nearly losing his footing and dropping his wand.
"Harry!"
For a moment, Harry was completely stunned into silence. The girl in his arms was pleasantly familiar-the scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, the way she felt against him.
"Hermione?" he managed hoarsely.
She pulled back away from him enough so he could see her face. Yes, it really was her-it wasn't just his imagination playing tricks on him. She beamed at him before throwing her arms around him again.
"Hermione…" he said again, hardly daring to believe that he was really holding her in his arms in the middle of the Dursley's doorway. "What-what are you doing here?"
"It's your birthday," she said. "I had to come. It's been awful this summer, Harry, not being able to see you. I knew I had to be here today."
"But-but… how did you get here?" Some kind of rational thought began to worm its way into Harry's mind. "It's dangerous, Hermione! You have no idea who could be watching! Did you at least ask permission from the Order? Dumbledore? This isn't like you, you know-rushing off into danger."
"Honestly, Harry… I was perfectly cautious. Don't you know? I took my Apparition test after leaving school this spring. It only took me a few minutes to get here-it was hardly dangerous at all."
"Yeah, but-"
"WHAT IN THE RUDDY HELL IS GOING ON HERE???"
Harry jumped. He'd completely forgotten about the rest of the Dursleys. Hermione sent him an alarmed look, backing up a few steps.
Harry cleared his throat. "Err… Uncle Vernon, this is my friend Hermione Granger. Hermione, these are my… relatives."
Uncle Vernon's face had gone several shades darker. Petunia looked faint and held on to the doorjamb to hold herself up. Dudley gave a leering smile.
None of them said anything.
"Well," Hermione said brightly. "It's nice to meet you. Sorry to drop in like this. I'm not usually this spontaneous, you should know. It's just that, I wanted to surprise Harry… it being his birthday. And, well… here I am!"
Uncle Vernon seemed to be at a loss for words. "Bringing… your… people… my… house… not… proper…"
"I'm Dudley," said Harry's cousin proudly. He screwed up his features in an attempt to stand taller and puffed out his chest. "Your name was Hermy, was it?"
"Hermione," Harry ground out.
"Right, sorry," Dudley said. "It's such an odd name, don't you think?"
Harry glared. "I think that's saying an awful lot, coming from you, Duddiekins."
Dudley frowned, as if trying to decide whether or not Harry had insulted him.
Hermione was very red in the face. "I can go, if you want," she whispered. "I didn't-I don't want to make things worse."
"No, don't go," Harry said quickly.
"My house… cannot… bring… those… people… here… mine…." Vernon swallowed deeply and regained some measure of composure. "You will not invite your people here at will here, boy, do you hear me?"
"Yeah," Harry said, slowly putting his wand back in his pocket, gleeful when he saw that the Dursleys were tracking the movement with their eyes. "Yeah-I hear you."
Harry's action had the desired affect. Vernon and Petunia both clamped their mouths shut, looking fearful.
"Don't s'pose you'd want the neighbours seeing any… I dunno… funny business…"
"What is it that you want?" Vernon said, eyes bulging.
"Nothing much," Harry said. "Bit of food, shelter, a roof over my head. Basic comforts, really. I want this to be the last summer that I ever have to stay here. And I want to spend my birthday with my friend. Undisturbed."
"Oh, don't say that," Hermione moaned. "They'll think we're… you know."
"I don't care," Harry said back. "I don't care what they think."
The Dursleys stared at him as though he'd gone mad.
"Fine," Vernon finally spat. "Just keep out of sight, boy."
"Gladly."
Petunia stared at Hermione with enough contempt to make Harry nervous. He took a few steps in front of her, challenging his aunt with his eyes.
"Just like that sister of mine," Petunia said. "I knew she was gone when she brought that Potter boy home. Trouble, that was. And just look where it got her! Five-years later and she went and got herself blown up."
Harry flinched. "Don't talk about my parents like that."
"You're just like them," Petunia continued, as if Harry hadn't said anything. "We tried to force it out of you-tried to squeeze it out of you. But it was too late-it was too far ingrained in you. And now it's happening again, just like before. The disappearances… the odd occurrences…"
"YEAH," Harry shouted, something in him snapping. "That's right, Aunt Petunia! Bloody fantastic reasoning, you've got. Figured it out, have you? Yeah, Voldemort wants to kill me-just like he killed my parents. But that's not all-I might be able to kill him. Hear that? ME! The boy you LOCKED IN A CUPBOARD! I HAVE THAT POWER! ME AND NO ONE ELSE! So SHUT UP about THINGS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"
A stunned sort of silence met Harry's angry tirade. Harry could hear the sounds of his harsh breathing echoing through the room, but all else seemed to be hanging on a standstill.
Sixteen years of abuse from the Dursleys seemed to pile up in front of him. Righteous anger continued flowing through him and Harry decided that he wasn't sorry-he wasn't a bit sorry.
"You deserve to know what's happening," Harry said quietly, looking at each of the Dursleys in turn. "You've spent decades pretending that my world doesn't exist. Well, it does. It does and it's here. It's here and you should be aware of it."
Harry chanced a look at Hermione, feeling a twinge of guilt. She'd barely just arrived, on his birthday, no less, and here she was, being forced to endure the confrontation with the Dursleys that had been building since Harry first received his Hogwarts' letter.
Her mouth was hanging partially open, but her eyes told him that she supported him, and Harry found that was enough.
"Is…" Petunia's voice was weak. "Is-are we going to… die?" She looked at Dudley fearfully. "When you go, are we going to be unprotected?"
Harry stared at her-he'd never once considered the ramifications on the Durlseys if he was no longer alive. He knew he was safe when he was with them because of the protection his mum had bestowed on him before her death. But without him there, the blood tie he shared with his aunt was all but useless.
"I… dunno…" he finally said.
"I see," Petunia whispered.
For the first time, Harry felt a twinge of pity for his aunt. Vernon's head was snapping back and forth between Petunia and Harry in complete incomprehension.
"Unprotected?" he spluttered. "With him out of the house? Petunia, what are you saying?"
Petunia seemed to snap back to herself and her eyes were cool as they regarded Harry. "Nothing," she said. "Come along, you should finish your breakfast before work."
Petunia ushered her husband and Dudley back in the kitchen, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the entrance hall.
Harry released a breath when they left before slowly turning to face Hermione. She was still wearing a shocked look, but her eyes got brighter when she faced him.
"Hey," he said. "It's, er… nice to see you."
"Happy birthday," she said. "Did I come at a bad time?"
"Not any more than usual, no," Harry said. "I think-I think that's been brewing for a while."
"I see," Hermione said. "Well, they are a rather horrible lot, aren't they?"
"You have no idea."
"No, I don't suppose I do."
Harry began to feel a little awkward. He couldn't believe that Hermione was here, in front of him, in the entrance to the Dursleys' house. Her hair was damp from the rain pounding down outside, but her skin was tanned a light brown and the tip of her nose was beginning to peel.
"You look nice," he finally mumbled, realizing he'd been gaping at her.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, do relax, will you? It's not as if it's been ages since we last saw each other. Honestly, there's no need to act as though we're strangers."
"Right. Sorry."
"That's quite alright." She gestured around her. "So which one is your bedroom?"
He blinked at her. "Hermione…"
"Oh, for goodness sake's, don't be getting any ideas… I'm just curious…"
She traipsed off towards the stairs and Harry followed behind her, his mind frantically trying to catch up with everything that happened to him that morning. Hermione waited for him at the top of the stairs, smiling warmly at him.
"Hi," she said.
"Er… hi?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're so daft sometimes, Harry."
Without saying anything else, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and kissed him. She pulled away, wearing a self-satisfied smile.
Right, that kind of hello, Harry thought, somewhat dazedly.
"I missed you," she said simply.
Harry felt himself go red and he desperately wanted to say something-anything… about how much he'd missed her, about how good it was to see her in front of him, at the Dursley's, where nothing good had ever happened to him. But she was already turning and he lost his chance.
Not that it mattered.
Harry suspected that when it came to Hermione, she already knew.
"This is my bedroom," he said, opening the door. She followed him inside, looking around curiously.
"Those are my letters, aren't they?" she said, gesturing to his desk. She went over and began rifling through them. "How awful… they barely say anything at all."
"It's been…"
"Difficult, I know," she sighed. "I understand the caution. But it's hard, not being able to hear from you."
"I know."
Hermione set the letters back on his desk before turning to him. "So tell me now. How are you? How are you really?"
"I'm alright."
She raised her eyebrows and shoved a pile of clothes out of the way to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "Honesty, Harry, you should think about cleaning up in here. How can you live like this?"
He shrugged. "I wasn't really expecting company."
"Yes, but that's hardly a good excuse. Neatness is important, you know. It helps to keep the rest of your life in order."
"Fine," Harry said. "If we ever move in together, I'll be so neat you won't even know it's me."
She smiled. "You think about us living together?"
Harry stared, going back over in his head what he'd just said. He blushed. "Err… apparently…"
She patted the spot next to her. "You're awfully jumpy, you know. This can't be that awkward for you… it's barely been three weeks since the last time we saw each other. We've had longer breaks."
"No… it's not that, exactly… it's just…" Harry gestured around him and swallowed. "It's just…"
"Yes?"
Harry's eyes lingered on the bed before meeting hers. She smiled knowingly. "Yes, I suppose we've never talked about… well… that, have we?"
Harry shook his head.
"Then let's talk about it."
"Now?"
"Yes, now," she said. "Might as well."
Harry resisted the rather strong urge to point out that his day could not possibly get any odder. Hermione was in his room, his room at the Dursleys, right after he'd just had what could be construed as an emotional row with his aunt, and she wanted to have the sex talk.
"For the love of Merlin," he muttered. "Don't tell me you want to wait until marriage."
She laughed. "No-hardly. But I do think that we're still too young, don't you?"
"Sure."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Are you taking this seriously?"
"Of course I am."
"Look," she said crossly, obviously not believing him. "It is… something that I think… we should do for the first time together. I want it to be with you. But I'm not ready for it yet."
Harry nodded numbly, entirely too uncomfortable.
Hermione stared at him expectantly. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"How do you feel about it?"
Harry swallowed, feeling like it was a question that entailed an entirely too complicated answer. Those thoughts were certainly things he thought about-dreamed about. Almost constantly. But like most things in his life, he had a sneaking suspicion that he'd find some way to mess it up-that it would be awful for her or he'd do it wrong. And thinking about that made him nervous, which in turn made him feel slightly sick to his stomach.
Realizing that Hermione was waiting for an answer, he sat down next to her and gave her a weak smile.
"I'm not ready either," he said honestly, wondering what, exactly, "ready" would mean.
"Oh, good," Hermione said, in relief. "I was worried you would expect… well, you know…"
"Gee, thanks."
"Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that. I know you would never… it's just…" Hermione sighed, frustrated. "I know that boys… and they… they…" her voice turned softer. "They… well, you know."
Harry wasn't certain he knew what she was talking about, but he decided to take a stab at it anyway. "Hermione, listen," Harry said. "Yeah, I think about those things. Yeah, I'm a boy. But I love you. I respect you. And we won't do anything until you're ready-until we're both ready. All right?"
"Okay," she said. "Now… will you tell me about your summer?"
Harry felt a tremendous amount of relief that she'd changed the subject. "Well… to be completely honest, it's been rather boring. I haven't been doing… much. Certainly not taking my Apparating test or anything."
"You can do that soon."
"I s'pose. The Dursleys have been okay… leaving me alone, for the most part. What you saw today… that was unusual."
"Was it true, what your aunt said?" Hermione said, peering at him curiously. "Are they-are they going to be unprotected when you leave?"
Harry jerked a shoulder. "I don't know. I don't know if I care."
Hermione looked at him reproachfully and Harry felt a twinge of guilt.
"They've spent their whole lives pretending that our world doesn't exist, Hermione," he said. "The last thing they're going to want is us forcing it upon them after I'm gone. Besides, what could Voldemort gain by attacking them?"
"Loads," Hermione whispered. "You might say you don't care, but we both know that's not true."
Harry found her eyes. She stared back at him, eyes warm and bright and he felt his mouth go dry. "No," he said. "No… he wouldn't bother. There's… there's many other people he could go after that would… be worse."
He could see the change in her face immediately. She shifted closer to him, reaching out to grasp his hand.
"Oh, Harry, you're right," she said.
"You've been careful this summer, haven't you?" he said, a little desperately. "You're not going out much, are you?"
"Of course I've been careful," she said briskly. "And, besides, there's been almost constant supervision from the Order, day and night."
Harry wasn't much reassured, but he nodded anyway. "And when you Apparated to come here you…"
Harry trailed off, distracted by the look Hermione was giving him. Suddenly, he was hyper-aware of how close she'd gotten to him. He couldn't remember when that had happened or when she'd started running her hand up and down his arm.
"Harry?" her voice was soft and she was very close, he could feel her breath on his cheek.
He might have said something then, but he wasn't entirely sure.
"Didn't you miss me?" she said, still in that soft voice.
Well, of course he missed her-it was a ridiculous question to be asking. But, he realized, she'd made her point-she had his full attention. He was seventeen and he was a boy and he was beginning to think that the whole "being ready" stuff was a load of rubbish.
So he kissed her then, control flying out the window. This wasn't merely a kiss in greeting, but a real, tongue in mouth, hands fisting on shirts, pushing her down on his bed kiss. It was all so familiar, but wonderfully new at the same time-the feel of her hands in his hair, the soft noises of pleasure she made against his mouth, the way her breasts felt against his chest.
He wondered why he hadn't done this when she first showed up in the doorway, hair and clothing splattered with rain. He kissed the corner of her mouth, trailing his lips to the hollow of her throat. She hissed in pain and he looked up, startled, but she smiled warmly and removed his glasses.
He couldn't see as well, but it did make it easier to kiss her, so he went back to that. He pressed his lips to her throat and her chin and her lips, yes, her lips and their tongues met again and she was arching beneath him.
Blood had long since left the brain and it was getting harder and harder to remember what they'd just talked about. She arched again and they met right in that spot. Harry stopped kissing her with a gasp, pressing his face to her shoulder.
She moved against him then with a small gasp of her own and Harry wondered how she could possibly ask him to stop now-which he would, of course, if she asked, because he loved her and he respected her and he had plenty of self-control and when she moved again, he damned near groaned out loud.
And for the second time that day, there was a loud bang from outside-what sounded like a car backfiring.
They stopped what they were doing immediately despite his body's protests to the contrary. Wordlessly, Hermione handed him his glasses back, going to the window to peer outside. Harry sat up, taking several deep breaths and attempting to picture Snape in his undergarments.
Hermione turned back around, face flushed. There was a small red mark on her neck and Harry couldn't quite contain the manly thrill he felt at the sight of it.
Snape. Undergarments.
"Anything?" he finally managed.
She shook her head, looking worried. "I know what Apparation sounds like, Harry. And that was it."
"Okay," he said, willing his mind to think straight. He took another deep breath. "It could have been anyone."
"Exactly," Hermione said.
The words had no sooner left her words when there was another bang from outside-followed by a third and fourth.
Together, they ran to the window. The rain made it impossible to see anything clearly.
"Get your wand out," Harry said, very quietly.
"You don't think… surely it can't be… you're safe here, Harry, aren't you?"
"Wand out," he said again.
Eyes fearful, she took out her wand and looked at him expectantly.
"C'mon," he said, heading for the door. She followed behind him. Harry went down the stairs first, instinct telling him to be wary.
He was nearing the bottom when he heard Vernon start yelling.
"WHAT IN THE DEVIL? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE? I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANYMORE! OUT OF MY HOUSE, I SAY! OUT-OF-MY-HOUSE!"
Harry ran down the stairs, wand out in front of him. He skidded to a halt in the kitchen, completely forgetting about the danger. What he saw made his jaw drop and Hermione nearly crashed into him from behind.
Tonks, Moody, and Lupin were standing in his kitchen.
Harry blinked, certain he was imagining things. But, no, there they were again-they really were standing in the Dursleys' kitchen.
Vernon was yelling at Tonks. Her hair was blue and curled around her head. Moody clutched a teapot close to his chest, eye whizzing over the kitchen. Lupin stood in front of them, looking tense.
After that, everything happened so fast.
Completely ignoring the Dursleys, the Order members strode towards them. From the looks on their faces, Harry could tell that something had happened.
"We have to get to Headquarters," Lupin said. "Hermione, you will Apparate with Alastor and Nymphadora."
There was sort of stunned silence and Hermione grabbed Harry's arm, looking pale.
"Now, Hermione."
Lupin didn't yell, but his tone left no room for argument.
"Hold on," Harry said, extremely wary of being split up from Hermione. "How do we know you're who you say you are?"
Lupin looked frustrated. "Harry, I'm very glad you're being cautious, but we must hurry."
"And leave us with no protection!" Aunt Petunia cried out. "Once he's gone… we'll be completely defenseless!"
"Why?" Harry said, ignoring his aunt. "What happened?"
Lupin's eyes flicked to Hermione. "There's been an attack."
Hermione let out a small whimper and Harry put an arm around her shoulders.
"An attack?"
"We'll explain once we're at Headquarters. I'm sorry, Harry, but there's no time. We have no idea who else has been targeted."
"Thirty-seconds," Moody said gruffly.
Lupin's voice turned more urgent. "Harry, you must believe us, you must-"
"Attack me," Harry said. "Curse me-anything."
Lupin stared at him.
"Just do it!"
"Twenty seconds!"
"Stupify!"
A blue jet of light hit Harry square in the chest and he felt his breath leave his lungs.
The curse had worked.
"Ennervate!"
As quickly as it had come, the curse was lifted. Harry found Hermione's eyes and gave a small nod.
"Ten seconds!"
Lupin grabbed the teapot out of Moody's hand and thrust it at Harry. Harry took hold of it and Hermione reluctantly let go of his arm.
"Portkey," Lupin explained. "Alastor, Nymphadora, get her out of here, while it's still clear-"
There was a familiar tug around his naval and Harry felt his feet leave the ground. He landed heavily, crashing to the floor. Lupin managed to stay upright and turned to help Harry to his feet.
Harry looked around, partly in dread. He knew where he was, of course-Grimmauld Place.
He hadn't been back here since fifth-year, not since Sirius had died. It was clear that the Order had still been using it as Headquarters. It was much cleaner than Harry remembered and there were signs of life everywhere; jackets and scarves thrown about, crumbs collecting in the corner.
"Hermione," he said immediately, whirling around to face Lupin. "Where's Hermione?"
Lupin looked worn. "She's-she Apparated to St. Mungo's."
"St. Mungo's?" Harry repeated. "But why would she… what happened?"
"Harry, maybe you should sit down-"
"Her parents," Harry said. "They attacked her parents, didn't they? But they're Muggles, they can't go to St. Mungo's… they…"
"Were attacked by magical means," Lupin said heavily. "They'll-her mother is in stable condition. Her father… we're not sure if he'll make it."
Harry felt like his legs might give out. "Why did you bring me here?" he grit out. "I should be with her. She needs me."
Lupin gave a weak smile. "I'm sorry, Harry. But we felt it would be safer for you to remain here. You'll be told, of course, if there's any change in their condition."
"Safer?" Harry said, voice quivering with anger. "That's-that's rubbish! I have to be with her!"
"Harry, calm down-"
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Harry yelled. "You lot-you're all still treating me like I'm a child! I can make my own bloody decisions! And right now I want to be at St. Mungo's with my girlfriend!"
"Listen, Harry," Lupin said, coming towards him, hands spread out. "They need the best care they can get. You are not inconspicuous. You will draw attention. It is better for the Grangers if you remain here."
Harry heard what Lupin was saying and it further angered him. He couldn't bear the thought of staying here, not when Hermione needed him. He could imagine what it must be like for her, Apparating to the hospital and being told that her parents were attacked. It chilled him.
"Hermione will carry on," Lupin said gently. "She is a strong girl. She'll be moved here as soon as possible, Harry, I promise."
Harry thought that if he had to continue looking at Lupin he might burst. His hand was itching on his wand. He stalked off, feeling furious and useless.