'Cause I Am With You

chapter four: photographs

Harry was relieved when the Apparating sensation wore off. He was standing on a dirt lane under a grove of trees. He walked toward a village, the only light coming from the orange setting sun. The village was picturesque, but it was also desolate. It had a dismal feel to it, even though it looked quaint. Harry suddenly felt reckless for coming alone. He kept walking through the village, and he wasn't sure he was at the right place until he saw the worn out sign that read:

Some of the wooden letters were missing, but the dark wood that had laid under the letter made the shape of the letter. In the dusk light, it read:

Harry walked down the lane towards were some houses stood. Many of them were small mansions, other's were large farm houses. He wasn't entirely sure which was the house he was looking for, but he found it. He knew that the large home before him had been his old home. The Potter house.

The lawn was overgrown, Spanish moss hanging from the trees (Harry knew Spanish moss wasn't native, so he figured, more than likely, his mother had it grown on the trees), and he thought the house and lawn looked like something out of the American southeast (he remembered from geography at his Muggle primary school).

Harry walked past the rusted gate that was hanging off one hinge, and he walked up to the double-front door. He noticed blast marks around the frame, and the doors were both hanging on their hinges. The glass that once been on them were shattered, and Harry felt the glass crack under his shoes.

He was standing in the foyer, looking down into the living room. The furniture was overturned, and cobwebs had formed from over the past sixteen years. Harry went up the cracked marble steps, and he found the bedroom he wanted to. He found a crib, also overturned, and pictures lined the walls. Harry moved the crib to look at the pictures.

He took one down. It was of James, Lily, and himself when he was a baby. Lily was holding Harry, who was wiggling in her lap, and James was making funny faces in the camera. Lily was laughing at Harry's squirming, and he noticed it looked as if they were at a beach. He pulled the photo out and read the back:

Harry set the photo down on the table that had been beside the crib. He took another photo down. James, Lily, and he were all bundled up, and baby Harry was digging his face into Lily's neck. James had his arm around Lily's shoulder, and Lily's cheeks were pink with cold. Snow was lightly falling around them. Harry read the back:

The next picture was Harry's favorite right away. Lily was sitting up in a hospital bed, stroking her newborn's fuzzy black hair. James was beside her, holding her around her shoulders, and from time to time, he'd kiss her head. It was a close up of the three, and Lily and James both had small smiles on their faces as they looked down at the baby. The back said:

Harry pocketed all three pictures, and he left his old bedroom. He walked downstairs, and he explored around. He found and pocketed many photos. Most were from family vacations, and some were of just Harry. He even found some of Lily and James from their wedding, before Harry had been born, and even some older ones from their school years.

Harry knew he wasn't going to want to spend the night in that house, so he Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron for the night.

Damn you, Harry! Why did you leave me here? Hermione thought to herself. She locked herself in the twins' room, not wanting to face any of the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley tried numerous times to get her to come out, but she refused.

"Hermione?"

It was the last voice she wanted to hear right then. "Go away, Ron!"

"Actually, it's Bill."

"I don't want to talk to anyone right now!"

"Please let me in."

She grudgingly opened the door, and Bill walked in. He shut the door behind him. "Hermione, I know you and my younger siblings had a falling out, but Mum, Dad, the twins, and Fleur and I want you to come out."

"I can't, Bill. I...I just can't."

Bill sat down on George's bed across from her (who was on Fred's bed). "I know Ron and Ginny can be hot headed. They take after Charlie, but don't let their anger ruin your time here. We really want you to stay. Especially Mum."

Hermione sighed. "Bill, it's more complicated then that."

Bill nodded. "I see. Teenage hormones on overdrive."

"Well, on Ron and Ginny's parts," Hermione muttered.

"Well, look, if I know my little brother and baby sister, they'll cool off in a day or so." He got up. "But, listen, don't let them ruin your stay. It's dangerous out there, and it's bad enough for Mum to have Harry out there." Bill got up.

"Okay." She sighed. "I'm worried about, Harry, Bill."

"He'll be fine. I'd be more worried about Ron," he said, smiling. "But, promise you'll stay. You know Harry wouldn't want you out there."

"I promise."

Bill patted her shoulder and shut the door behind him as he left.

Harry was wide awake in his bed at the inn. He had the photos spread across his bed. For one fleeting moment, he wished Hermione and Ron were both there looking at them with him. He knew Hermione would appreciate the emotional value, and Ron would have loved the humor in some of the photos. But he remembered that Ron was pissed at him, and he didn't want to make things worse by having Hermione "run off" with him.

He picked up a photo of James and Lily from their seventh year in school. He smiled whenever Sirius jumped from behind them making kissy faces. He assumed Lupin had taken the picture. He looked closely at his mother. Her eyes were bright green, like his own, and her hair was a bright auburn. She didn't have freckles, like he would have assumed, and he noticed he also had her nose.

Hedwig came flying in the open window from her night hunt, and she was followed closely by a small puff of owl. Harry recognized Pig, so he was reluctant to get the letter he was holding. Harry pulled it off anyway, and he gave Pig a small treat.

Harry,
Don't worry about Hermione. Mum, Dad, and I persuaded her to stay, despite Ron and Ginny's behavior. She locked herself in Fred and George's room, but I managed to talk her out. Fleur's been talking to her, and Charlie's been keeping Ginny away from her. Wherever you are, JUST BE CAREFUL, okay? And come back for Hermione. I thought I ought to let you know she's fine.
Take care,
Bill

Harry folded up the note. He felt better knowing that A) Hermione was okay, and B) the note wasn't from Ron. He put the note and the photos in his trunk, and he took off his glasses. He laid back on the pillows and got the first good night's sleep in two days.

Ron angrily threw the old worn Quaffle against his wall and caught it. He kept doing it over and over. His bedroom door opened, and Ginny came in. She caught the Quaffle in front of Ron.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"Hey, your girlfriend was snogging my ex."

"She's not my girlfriend," he grunted.

"You wanted her to be."

Ron threw himself onto his bed. "Yeah, but she obviously didn't want to be."

"That is true. You had two years to make a move." Ginny sighed and threw the Quaffle down. "You know, Hermione was the one to get me to go after Harry."

"Did she ever tell you about the boys she fancied?"

"Well, there was Krum, and McLaggen, but that was all she told me about. Well, McLaggen she only used for a date to that party."

"Did she ever fancy me?"

"I don't know."

"What about Harry?"

"She never said, but I think it was apparent she had some kind of feelings for him."

Ron frowned. "She was always favoring him. In fifth year, she was upset when he wasn't made Prefect, and then when we were both Prefects, she spent all her time with him! You know, she only helped to get me on the Quidditch team because she knew it would make Harry happy."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "She did?"

"Yeah. She knew it's was Harry wanted. She only paid attention to Quidditch because of Harry. In third year, we weren't talking to her, and she came to the game because Harry was playing." He snorted. "Fifth year? He wasn't on the team, so she could have cared less."

Ginny frowned and sat down on the cot. "Hermione told me just this evening that she loves Harry."

"I'm sure. He's the hero, isn't he?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, not because of that. Not like my reasons for liking him. She loves Harry. Just Harry."

"Did she say anything about me?"

"No."

Ron sighed. "I'd like to be alone now, Ginny."

Ginny nodded and left. She went downstairs to her room, and she the door behind her. Arnold was laying on her pillow, and she picked the little purple puff up in her hands.

"I just shite everything up, don't I, Arn?"

The puff responded by rolling over in his sleep.