Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. He is the wonderful creation of J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing here.
A/N: First things first. Credit needs to be given to my wonderful beta and friend MapleMountain. The whole "Prince Harry" joke in here was his idea. He said it as a smart-aleck comment in one of his edits. I liked it so much I wanted to include it, but I didn't tell him as I wanted it to be a surprise. In my eagerness, I forgot (gasp, horror of horrors) to credit him the first time I posted this chapter. Thank you, and I'm sorry.
As for the Mr. and Mrs. Granger's first names, I know it's been done many times before... so here it is again. Honestly, I can't think of anything I like better, so why mess with perfection?
We will be taking a slight break after this chapter, long enough to give me time to read Half-Blood Prince and absorb everything, a week (or two if I want to read it twice). I promise this story will continue with little or no change in what I had planned. The only possible change I foresee is that, depending on what happens in canon, I may want to incorporate some of that... and this may become longer. But everything I already have planned will not change.
Chapter 5. A Real Home.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger, dressed very nicely, were standing in the Dursleys' front doorway. They were still smiling; Harry still had a surprised look on his face.
"May we come in please, Harry?" Mr. Granger asked politely.
His ability to speak coming and going, Harry stood there for a moment, his hand still on the doorknob. After about ten seconds opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, Harry's brain finally snapped back into gear.
"Yes, yes. Please come in," he replied very enthusiastically, and led them into the living room.
Uncle Vernon, who had been observing the scene intently, eyed the Grangers warily as they entered his perfectly normal living room. Still unsure of what to make of these newcomers, he threw a glance at Aunt Petunia that seemed to say "Well, at least they LOOK normal enough..." Harry's aunt had been standing in the corner nearest the hallway from the front door to the living room; she was positioned such that she could see the Grangers once they had entered the living room, but they could not see her until they actually turned around.
Finally walking into view, Aunt Petunia put on her best "gracious hostess" air. "Would you two like to sit down?" she asked.
"Thank you very much," Mrs. Granger replied.
Once everyone was settled, everyone sat for a few moments, looking at each other. No one was sure what to say. Finally, Harry's uncle decided to start. It was his house, after all.
"So, you two are from our nephew's... school, are you?" he asked.
"Oh no," Mrs. Granger replied with a smile. "Actually, we're just the parents of one of his friends there. We live on the outskirts of London, actually."
Mr. Granger immediately picked up where his wife left off. "Just like you, actually. Another set of parents who live out here while their children head off to their own world."
Harry had never formally met Hermione's parents; he had only seen them in passing on several occasions before and after the school year. Despite that, he had a feeling that something about this conversation just wasn't right. It seemed rehearsed; he didn't know why. It reminded him strongly of when Hermione put on her little show for Professor Umbridge the previous year when she saved him from the Cruciatus Curse, even though he knew that wasn't rehearsed.
Vernon visibly relaxed as Mr. Granger said this. "Oh, so you're not part of... their lot?" he asked.
Mrs. Granger smiled. "Well, only so far as a parent can be involved in their child's life. But no, we're just normal, ordinary people, if that's what you mean." Maybe it was because she reminded him so much of Hermione, but Harry was quite sure the smile on her face was fake.
Vernon and Petunia looked at each other, and for once, looked almost quite happy. Perfectly normal people, except for Harry of course, in their perfectly normal house.
"Actually, we were asked to pick Harry here up for that very reason." Mr. Granger shot Harry the most fleeting of glances and a trace of a smile. Fortunately, Vernon's gaze had not yet returned to Mr. Granger to see this. "We were told that some of your neighbors might object if they were to see anything out of the ordinary... even if it was something as simple as wizarding robes." As his uncle turned back to the Grangers, Harry could see the slight remnants of a wince that his uncle had tried to hide upon hearing the "W" word.
Now giving Mr. and Mrs. Granger his full attention, Vernon laughed innocently as though he had never heard anything so preposterous. "Yes, well, some people are awfully sensitive about the silliest things." Harry could tell his uncle was trying his hardest to keep from looking at him after saying that. This was a good thing as Harry himself was trying not laugh out loud to that statement.
After finally collecting himself, Harry looked back at the clock. Seeing the time, he decided they had all be there long enough. It was 12:02.
"I hate to break up this pleasant conversation, but the Headmaster's letter said that your schedule was tight. We should probably be getting along then."
Mr. Granger pulled a gold watch out of his pocket; Harry caught a glimpse of it. It strongly reminded him of the one he had seen Professor Dumbledore carry with him. "Harry's right of course. We best be on our way. Time's a ticking. Harry, are you ready to go?" he asked.
Harry had to force himself to not shout out "Hell yes, I'm ready to go." He nodded towards his trunk and Hedwig's cage. "Yes, Mr. Granger. Everything's ready," he said carefully, to avoid any obvious signs of how happy he was to be leaving with them.
Standing up, Mr. Granger turned one more time to Vernon, "I do hope we didn't cause you any inconvenience today, to meet us here on a Monday during the day. We both had to take the day off work to make it out here and back."
"Not at all, not at all," Vernon replied most enthusiastically. "Actually, I had the day off anyway. It was very nice to meet the two of you." Harry noticed that Vernon looked almost quite sincere as he said that. The truth was that he had called in sick this morning. There was no way that anyone even remotely associated with Harry and his world was going to be in his house without him there.
Mrs. Granger stood up and with a smile, clapped her hands and then rubbed them together. "Right then. Dear, will you take Harry's trunk? I'll carry Hedwig's cage, and then we can be off."
"Of course," Mr. Granger replied. He offered his hand to Vernon, who shook it eagerly. It seemed he was quite impressed with Mr. and Mrs. Granger. After all, they were perfectly normal people who also just happened to be taking Harry with them. What could possibly make them any better?
"Oh yes, I almost forgot," Mrs. Granger said as she offered her hand to Petunia. Harry's aunt shook it, but not as eagerly. It looked funny, but what did he expect? That they'd hug each other goodbye like old friends? "Since we're taking Harry now, we thought it'd be easier for us to make arrangements to see him to King's Cross at the end of next month. I hope you don't mind."
That's what would make them better, Harry thought, amused.
Vernon acted as though he was afraid it might be too much of an imposition on them to offer something like that. "Well, I suppose. I'd hate for anyone to have to make a special trip just on our nephew's account. We could easily come and get him if need be." Petunia's face paled ever so slightly as Vernon said this.
"Oh nonsense!" Mr. Granger replied. "It'd be an awful shame for you to have to make the trip all the way into London just to pick him up and then take him to the station. It's no trouble at all. Really. Someone around will be able to do it." Mr. Granger then grabbed Harry's trunk and headed for the front door. Petunia rushed to open it.
"And besides, even if it is us, don't forget we have to take our own child there also. Please, don't give it another thought," Mrs. Granger added.
Seeing at the looks on his aunt and uncle's faces, Harry thought to himself, Don't worry, they won't.
Once he was outside with Harry's trunk, Mr. Granger waited for his wife and Harry to come out also. A few seconds later, Harry emerged with a huge grin on his face, along with Mrs. Granger carrying Hedwig's cage. It was obvious Hedwig was familiar with Mrs. Granger, since she was so tolerant of her carrying her cage while she was still in it.
As soon as everyone was on the front step, the door gently (but very quickly) closed. Now separated from the Dursleys, Harry heaved a sigh of relief, "Finally!" He immediately stopped grinning.
Harry turned to look at Mr. Granger and try to find some way to explain that remark. He was surprised to see Mr. Granger smiling at him. "Our thoughts exactly, Harry. Let's get everything loaded into the car so we can get out of here."
Harry could only smile.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Mrs. Granger was still carrying Hedwig's cage. "Oh... here, Mrs. Granger. Please let me carry that. You don't have to do that for me."
"Oh nonsense, Harry," Mrs. Granger objected. "Don't be silly. We're your chauffeurs today. Now get in the car before I ask my husband to carry you to the car too."
At least now I know where Hermione gets her stubbornness from, Harry thought, amused.
Harry walked over to the car parked in the Dursleys' front drive. It was a medium sized SUV, not extravagant or grossly expensive, just very nice. Very practical, Harry decided. Any surprise about that?
Harry opened the door and then climbed into the backseat. Mrs. Granger put Hedwig's cage on the seat next to Harry and strapped the seat belt around the cage. A minute later, Mr. Granger had loaded Harry's trunk into the cargo area in back. As soon as he got into the driver's seat, he again pulled out the pocket watch he had been carrying.
"Pretty good, if I do say so myself. 12:05. Professor Dumbledore said we had a ten minute window." Mr. Granger looked quite pleased with himself.
Mrs. Granger turned to her husband. "Dear, would you please put that away so we can get going? I don't want to stay here any longer than Harry does." She then turned to Harry. "You'll have to excuse him, Harry dear. Your headmaster loaned us his pocket watch for this little outing. He wanted to make sure we were on time, according to your clock. We had a very narrow time frame here, so he wanted to be sure we were able to take advantage of every second. When he gave it to us, it had a dozen hands on it that we couldn't make sense of. He gave it a tap with his wand and it turned into a regular watch that just so happened to be synchronized with the Dursleys' clock."
And now I know where she gets her analytical side too, Harry mused. After listening to Mr. Granger talk about the watch for five minutes as they started their drive towards London, Harry thought to himself, Scratch that, she gets THAT from both of them. Again, Harry could only smile.
Once they had finally left Little Whinging, Mrs. Granger turned around again in her seat. "Sorry about not introducing ourselves properly back there. We've heard so much about your relatives that I didn't really want to get too cozy with them. Just get you and get on our way."
"You have?" Harry asked, confused. Mrs. Granger smiled and nodded. "Yes, of course: Hermione," Harry reasoned, answering his own question.
"Well, you ARE her best friend after all. Even though we see so little of you, and her for that matter, I feel as though I've known you ever since she sent home her first letter back in her first year at Hogwarts." Mrs. Granger had a very warm look on her face. Harry, not sure what to say, only nodded.
"Speaking of proper introductions... Where is my head? Harry, I'm Emma Granger and this is my husband Dan. It is very nice to meet you finally. As I said, we've heard so much about you. We've seen you every year before or after school in Diagon Alley or at King's Cross, but we've never actually been properly introduced. It's funny, you'd think someone didn't want us to get to know each other, at least not yet."
Stopped at a train crossing, Dan Granger turned around in his seat to shake Harry's hand as his wife turned back to face ahead. "Nice to meet you finally, Mr. Potter. Not that our daughter hasn't wanted us to meet you, of course... it's just that something always seemed to conveniently come up to keep it from happening."
After shaking Harry's hand, Dan took on a very serious expression. "Are you the boy our daughter kissed a year ago?" Harry heard Emma let out a small sigh as though she was not happy with what Dan had just said.
Totally unprepared for that, after he felt his slight blush die down, he just sat there completely dumbfounded. Under the calculating stare of the father of an only daughter, securely strapped into an enclosed space was a very unnerving place to be. Slightly afraid, he had absolutely no idea how to respond.
Dan sat there with a deathly serious look on his face for a few seconds until he could no longer hold back his chuckle. "I'm sorry, Harry. I promised Hermione I wouldn't do that, but I just couldn't resist. I'd tell her the look you had on your face, but then she'd be upset with me. I can tell you this: you don't want a Granger female mad at you."
"Dan," Emma said to him, still looking straight ahead.
"Yes, dear. But you already knew that, didn't you Harry?" Dan teased with a bit of a grin on his face. "Five years at school with our daughter, and I'm sure you learned that pretty quickly." His grin faded slowly. "She showed us that letter, by the way... her second one. We're very sorry for your loss."
Surprised by Dan's sudden change of topic, Harry initial fear had shifted to relief, but was now replaced by sadness.
Dan, realizing the change in Harry's demeanor, tried to lighten the mood. "Nice clothes there Harry. Let me guess: it was the only thing you had clean?"
Harry tried not to smile, but failed at his attempt.
Dan shook his head in an amused way. "You may be great wizard Harry, but you're still a guy."
"Dan," Emma said again, this time more urgently. "The train ended a few moments ago. The queue is clearing."
"Oh, yes dear," Dan exclaimed, quickly turning around to pay attention again to the traffic. About ten seconds later, the queue had cleared and they were on their way again.
Emma again turned to Harry. "My husband's childish sense of humor aside, we really are sorry for your loss, Harry. We know that you really haven't had much of normal family life." She turned slightly towards Dan. "Ten years in that house, and I didn't see so much as a single picture of him, anywhere. Even all the family shots were only of the three of them."
Dan nodded. "I know. And the way his eyes just lit up when you said we were normal. I was ready to leave."
Emma Granger again turned back to Harry. "We hope we can change that slightly, at least for a little while."
Harry, unsure of what she meant, said so. "I don't understand, Mrs. Granger."
"Please, Emma. Well, actually, I can't tell you. It's not that I don't want to. It's just part of the situation. 'Preparations,' Professor Dumbledore told us. Something about it being a secret. I can't tell you, nor can I tell you who can. I do hope you understand."
Harry was beginning to. The Fidelius Charm? he wondered. "Yes, actually, I think I do. Thanks." He still wasn't yet ready to call her Emma, but he didn't want to call her Mrs. Granger either after she asked him not to.
Harry was now pretty sure that he was going number twelve, Grimmauld Place, since it seemed as though there was a Fidelius Charm involved. But considering he had already been wrong once today, he wasn't going to make any bets. Even the direction they were driving didn't help any. He had only been to and from Grimmauld Place by broom at night, Portkey, and the Knight Bus, none of which were any use in trying to determine the location of a place, regardless of whether it was hidden or not.
Considering it was the lunch hour on a work day, the trip was relatively easy that day. Traffic was fairly light on the A308 and the A316. After about half an hour, Harry began to wonder where they were going. Going the back way, aren't we? he wondered. If they were going to London, wouldn't the M25 and M4 have been faster?
His curiosity finally getting the better of him, Harry finally asked. "Did you say we were going to London?"
"Oh, no dear. But we'll get there soon," Emma assured him, thinking he was trying to find some polite way to say that he needed to use a restroom.
Knowing she couldn't really tell him any more, he was satisfied with her answer. His bodily functions were perfectly fine, too. After his first trip to Grimmauld Place, Harry was sure to make sure all of his business was taken care of before he left. What a memorable entrance that'd be, Harry thought to himself with a smirk. Running past the waiting hugs and handshakes and making a beeline to the toilet.
Harry looked out the window and just watched as the scenery went by. As they took an exit off the main motorway, Harry noticed the sign indicating the direction they were heading. They were heading towards Wandsworth. Ever since his first year at Hogwarts, Harry always thought it had a nice ring to it. He always thought it'd be cool to tell his friends that he lived in Wandsworth. Then again, telling someone that he lived anywhere other than with the Dursleys would have been nice.
A short while later, they arrived at their destination. When they finally came to a stop, they were in the drive of a very nice pale blue two-story house. The front yard was beautifully kept, though the grass in the lawn was clearly drying up (it had been very hot for weeks, and hosepipe use restricted). Harry noted how all the houses on this street had dry lawns, while many of the ones on Privet Drive were green and lush, as if there was no water concerns at all. A beautiful wrought-iron fence covered in creeping flowering vines lined the walk to the front door.
Harry took everything in. This was certainly not Grimmauld Place. Since he didn't know this street was his final destination, he hadn't paid attention to the street name sign when they turned onto it. He looked at the front door and saw a post box hanging there. Harry was far enough away that he could not see if there was a name on it or not. However, considering how perfect this house seemed, Harry had a fairly good idea where he was.
His feeling was strengthened when he looked back at Dan and Emma. The looks on their faces after seeing his awed expression as he looked at the house could only be described as overwhelming pride.
"In you go, Harry," Dan said. "You have to carry Hedwig with you. I'll get your trunk."
"Just go up and ring the bell, dear." Emma encouraged him. "Someone is inside waiting."
Nervous (he didn't know why), Harry got out of the car, collected Hedwig's cage, and walked up to the front door. He stopped a moment and looked at the post box. Number 8, Broomhill Road. Shifting Hedwig's cage in his arms slightly, he was able to reach to bell. Within three seconds of ringing the bell, the door opened. Standing there was the only proof he needed of where he was: Hermione.
But Harry was taken aback slightly. This was not the Hermione he was used to. It was Hermione away from school, alone with her family. This was Hermione on holiday. No worries about homework, no school books, no boring sea of black robes. Harry had seen Hermione in Muggle clothes many times but never anything like this. He wasn't sure how to describe it, but the first word that came to mind was 'cute,' though he wasn't sure that did it justice.
She was wearing a pair of tan shorts and a pink T-shirt. On the shirt in sparkling, glittery silver letters was the word "PRINCESS." She must have had the shirt for a long time since the pink was fading and the sparkling material of the letters was cracked and beginning to fall off. It was also obvious to Harry that it no longer fit her very well.
"Harry! Come in, come in!" Hermione said very excitedly. Behind him, he heard Dan unloading his trunk from the car.
As Harry walked through the door, he felt... something. He wasn't sure what it was; it could have just been the sudden drop in temperature from the air conditioning.
As soon as he had set Hedwig's cage down, Harry found himself with a face full of bushy brown hair and a pair of arms wrapped around him in a bone-crunching hug.
"Oh Harry! You're here. You're finally here! It's SO good to see you again!" A little surprised, Harry couldn't really do anything but return the hug. After the first few seconds, which were very nice and pleasant, Harry began to feel something else.
His eyes were starting to get warm. After what he had been feeling for the last three weeks, being hugged like this was starting to break down every emotional barrier within him. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to see him cry. It wasn't that he was afraid she wouldn't understand. Perhaps it was that he knew she WOULD understand. He didn't want her to have to deal with that only thirty seconds in the door.
Fortunately, he was spared that possibility when he heard Emma clear her throat behind him. Hermione immediately let him go, and then quickly turned to pick up Hedwig's cage. As she turned, he could have sworn her eyes were glistening slightly.
Doing her best to keep her back to him, Hermione carried Hedwig's cage into the living room. In an uneven voice she said, "Let's just move this out of the hallway." By the time she returned, her eyes (and his) had returned to normal.
Harry stood there for a moment, and then finally asked what had been on his mind from the second the door opened. "Princess?" he inquired with a smile.
Hermione quickly looked down at her shirt. With a slightly embarrassed look, she laughed lightly. "Oh yes, this. Actually, it's something of an inside joke with my dad. He always called me his 'Little Princess' when I was small. Then, when I went to Hogwarts, he bought this for me. You know... how fairy tales always seem to have magic and princesses in them. I've had this since first year."
"Makes sense. It's very nice, really," Harry said with a grin. The grin slowly got bigger. "Though... I suppose it could've been worse. He could've bought you one of those "Property of Prince Harry" shirts I saw all of those girls wearing on the television a couple weeks ago."
Hermione's earlier embarrassed look was nothing compared to the one she was fighting to control. Harry's grin became as wide as humanly possible. He DID buy her one of those too, Harry said to himself, trying not to laugh.
Hermione, finally recovering from her blush, gave Harry a quick look over. "Well, I wouldn't be too quick to judge if I were you, Harry. Mr. I-don't-have-anything-clean-so-I'm-going-to-wear-my-school-clothes."
Now thoroughly embarrassed for the third time in two hours over his attire, Harry decided he should quit while he was ahead (if he even was).
As Dan carried Harry's trunk into the living room and Emma headed to the kitchen, Harry and Hermione, not for the first time, exchanged as series of looks that contained an entire conversation, without even saying a word.
A searching stare from Hermione. Do you want to talk?
A slight shake of his head by Harry. Not really.
An unsure nod and a slightly piercing look. OK, but you need to... sometime.
A resigned nod, then a half smile. Yes, I know. Later, I promise.
A much happier smile. OK, whenever you're ready.
Another happy smile. Thanks. I promise.
With that, Hermione gave Harry another hug, this one much quicker and more for reassurance. Again, Harry could only return it. Once they separated, they walked into the kitchen where Emma had started a kettle. As they walked in, they were followed by Dan.
"Care for a cup of tea, Harry?" Emma asked.
"Yes, please," Harry answered.
"Well, while we wait, Hermione dear, why don't you explain to Harry here what exactly is going on," Dan suggested. "Both your mother and I know you're the only one who can."
"OK," Hermione started, and then took a deep breath. "To make a long story short Harry, you have been relocated away from Privet Drive for the rest of the summer. This was done, as I hope the Headmaster told you, because it was in your best interests. Not in the best interests of him, or in the Order, but you. I'm quite sure you know why."
"Yeah," Harry said grimly. "If they had left me there to wallow in my own misery all summer, I probably would have just wasted away. Can't you just see the headline in The Prophet? 'The Boy Who Lived Loses Will To Live.'"
Unnerved, Hermione quickly replied, "You shouldn't joke about things like that, Harry."
"I wasn't," he whispered, almost resignedly.
Now completely shocked, Hermione continued, "All the more reason to get you out of there." Emma and Dan, who Harry had completely forgotten were there, nodded emphatically.
"So then, with your 'blood protections,' as he called them, intact, he set about transferring all of the other protections from Privet Drive elsewhere. It turns out there were quite a few. That's why it took him almost an entire day to cast all the necessary the charms," Hermione explained. "Obviously, the Burrow is out of the question, as it was last year. Unfortunately, Grimmauld Place is not an ideal place for us right now. I'll explain that later.
"So that left us with only one option left. Once it was decided, the Headmaster started putting the charms in place. The keystone to everything is a new Fidelius Charm to replace the one that was protecting you at number four."
Harry interrupted, very surprised. "But isn't all that a lot of work? Especially the Fidelius Charm? Why would he do all that?"
"It was because of 'an old man's mistakes,' he said," Hermione explained. "He said you would understand that."
Harry did, and he wasn't sure how he could express that.
"So, to let you in on the big secret..." Hermione started, very excited. This was obviously what she had been waiting for. "You're staying with us, Harry!"
Ever since he saw the house, he had a feeling that this was where everything was leading. Hearing Hermione say that he was staying with them, he felt a very peculiar sensation sweep through him. He wasn't sure what it was.
Allowing a few moments for everything sink in, Harry considered everything that had been said so far. "You said there's a new Fidelius Charm in place protecting me here? But your parents couldn't tell me where I was staying. Who's the Secret Keeper?" Harry asked, still not putting two and two together.
Fighting to keep the huge grin on her face from taking over, she replied very quickly, "I am."
Harry smiled. I should have known, he said to himself. That probably explains that feeling when she told me I was staying here. After all, what else could that have been?
A/N: There is actually a Broomhill Road in Wandsworth. Click here if you'd like to see it.
I was looking around London (thank you Google maps) trying to decide where to set the Grangers' home. I saw Wandsworth, and decided it was too perfect to pass up. Zooming it to street level, I found Broomhill Road. A few miles west of Broomhill Rd. is another street I almost used: Radcliffe Square. It would have been really funny I thought, but Harry and Hermione wouldn't be able to share in that. So I went with Broomhill. I just made up the house number. If there really is a Number 8, Broomhill Road, I'm sorry, or you're welcome, whichever you prefer. :-)