Your good friend will be there to bail you out of jail. Your best friend will be sitting there next to you in the cell saying "Damn, that was fun"
--Anonymous
Dawn broke to find Harry sitting on his unmade bed, hair sticking out even more haphazardly than usual, and the straggled growth of his beard beginning to jut from the tip of his chin. He wore only an old pair of Dudley's sweatpants, the color of which had faded to an off-grey long ago. He was once again reading from Battling the Darkness by Ditric Saasi, his attention to the book uncommonly like Hermione's.
Unfortunately his alarm clock failed to ring at its appointed time, so the sudden rapping on his door fifteen minutes after the usual start of his day shocked him so badly he tumbled to the floor in a heap. Emerald green eyes bulged as his gaze fell upon the glowing numbers on his nightstand. He quickly leapt around the room, gathering his clothes for the day and trying to change into them with a minimum of noise. After he finally extricated his head from the sleeve of his sweatshirt, he opened the door to his room to find Dudley looking annoyedly between his cousin and watch.
"We're too late to do the run today, Harry. Dad would be up for his commute before we got back. We'll just go downstairs and work on some sparring." With that, Dudley turned and headed for the basement. Harry looked at his clock as if it were a particular member of Slytherin House and followed Dudley toward the basement, tossing his sweatshirt back onto his bed.
The two boys spent several minutes pounding on the heavy bag, switching positions every so often. Harry vaguely registered Vernon partially descending the stairs while he held the bag for Dudley, but the muscled youth didn't acknowledge his father, so Harry focused once again on the strenuous beating Dudley was delivering to the bag. The elder Dursley watched for a few minutes before ascending to his breakfast. Finally Dudley motioned Harry over to the center of the basement. Harry nodded and set his glasses on the trunk by the stairs.
The two touched gloves and began circling, looking for an opening in the other's defenses. Harry feinted left and went for an uppercut as Dudley shifted from the faked jab. A left-handed slap knocked away the punch, followed quickly by a right jab to Harry's face. Harry tried to slide his head out of the way, but the boys were too close and the punch connected with a meaty thud to Harry's eye. Pinwheels of color filled Harry's vision as pain blossomed within his skull. He retreated as he tried to clear his head, until he realized that Dudley was looking at him coldly.
"Never back away from an opponent unless it gives you an advantage in the fight. Pain will heal, but if you try to run, you may never get back the advantage." Harry looked angrily at the blur of the larger man and raised his fists again, the pain in his left eye continuing to dim the vision in it even further. He saw the fuzzed shape of his cousin, bright red blurs blocking the upper chest and face.
Harry let out a growl as he launched himself at Dudley. The young seeker tossed a feint with his left, then followed with a quick one-two to the stomach. Dudley twisted with the first blow, but the follow-up left caught him directly in the stomach. Harry felt his glove connect with solid muscle before dropping to his knees to dodge the right hook speeding towards the side of his head. Thinking quickly, he swept out his leg, catching Dudley behind the knee and dropping him to the floor. Harry rolled to the left and affected a defensive stance as Dudley sprang to his feet. The older boy's face tightened into a stony countenance that Harry could almost imagine mirrored his own. Just as the two boys' muscles coiled to spring, Petunia's shrill voice shattered the building tension.
"HARRY POTTER! GET UP HERE, NOW!!"
Harry blinked as the emotions of the last few moments crested and washed away the lingering remains of his anger toward Dudley. Dudley looked ready to chew nails as he dropped his guard, the muscles of his broad shoulders bulging from the intensity and animosity of the preceding fight.
"Go," the older boy whispered, the quiver in his voice telling Harry how close to the edge his cousin was. Seventeen years of rivalry and anger could only be repressed so far, and Dudley seemed close to letting off the pressure.
Harry threw his gloves on the trunk and quickly grabbed his glasses, sliding them on as his other hand found his shirt. He took the stairs two at a time as he pulled on the t-shirt, a desire to ice his eye growing as the throb of pain emanating from it became distracting. Harry burst through the basement door and rounded the hall toward the dining area only to slide to a stop at the shocked looks of the people gathered in the kitchen.
Tonks, who looked more sedate than usual in blonde spikes and flannel, appeared ready to hex the entire Dursley household, while Petunia's expression alternated between horror and chagrin at the appearance of her nephew in front of company, even if they were people that would normally never be considered so. Moody, in loose fitting pants and polo so that he could move more quickly, Harry thought, simply looked concerned. He risked a glance to his right and winced at the reflection in the stainless steel of the refrigerator. A large dark area had already begun to form around his left eye, precursor to the massive bruise he knew would be sure to form.
"Harry, what happened to your eye," Tonks asked, her voice strained. Harry could only look abashed as Moody walked over and the spinning blue eye proceeded to look Harry over, then examined the direction he had come from. Moody let out a huff then turned back to the occupants of the table.
"Nothin' to worry about. Potter was in the basement duking it out with his gorilla of a cousin. Probably got too involved in training, eh Potter?" Harry nodded sheepishly as he remembered his reaction to Dudley's punch. He had always struggled with his temper, and once again he had allowed it to dictate his response. Petunia looked as if she wanted to comment on Moody's description of her darling Duddikens, but she held her tongue as she saw that Moody's eye was focused on her.
Harry opened the icebox and pulled out a few ice cubes, then wrapped them in a clean dishtowel. He removed his glasses and placed the pack on his eye, the cool ice on his face easing the throbbing pain. He sighed as he sat beside Tonks. She put her hand on Harry's shoulder affectionately and he felt a warm sensation deep within him, not unlike the feeling he got when he saw Hagrid after a long summer. He looked over at her with his good eye and gave her a wan smile. Then he turned to Moody, who had resumed talking to Petunia.
"The two of them will only be here for thirteen days, same as Potter there. Once the time is up, Harry's things will be removed and you won't see him again, unless he should wish to visit." Moody's expression showed his opinion on the likelihood of that. Petunia simply nodded. Moody continued, "Weasley and Granger are both of age according to wizard law, so they are allowed to do magic, but have both promised not to do so unless in a defensive capacity, in consideration of your family's attitude toward magic. The security for the area will be tightened, but we will be wearing standard Muggle dress for better concealment. What with Voldemort," upon hearing the name, Tonks squeaked, "and his Death Eaters running amuck, we can't be too careful."
"Once July 31 arrives, the protections around this house will drop, according to Albus, so you might want to consider a long holiday far from here just before then." Moody's face darkened, and his voice became graver. "Every dark wizard in Britain, and possibly some even nastier characters, will more than likely descend on this location, hoping to get information on Harry's plans from you lot. And I don't need to tell you that they won't be asking nicely."
"Where will Harry be, if he won't be here on the thirty-first," Petunia asked, her eyes flitting nervously in Harry's direction.
"They don't know, Aunt Petunia. No one on our side that's alive, except Ron and Hermione, knows where I'm going to go or what I'm going to be doing and that's the way Professor Dumbledore wanted it. I made him a promise. It wasn't an Unbreakable Vow, but I'll still die before I betray the trust which he placed in me," Harry stated with force. Moody nodded, while Tonks looked worried for Harry. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Petunia spoke up.
"So the two of them, this Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, will be staying with Mrs. Figg then? How will they know if something happens here?"
"I've got a Galleon that Hermione enchanted back in my fifth year. I know that Hermione and that maybe Ron still have theirs. If I tap the coin with my wand, their coins will get hot and let them know that I'm calling for them. They can both apparate, so they could be here instantaneously." Moody looked surprised at Harry as Tonks whistled in awe.
"Potter, are you telling me that Granger successfully performed a Protean charm on a Galleon in her fifth year," Moody asked, his false eye spinning fast enough to make Harry nauseas.
"Actually, I think she performed it on every Galleon given out to members of the DA; around thirty, I think. We needed a way to call meetings of the DA without people becoming suspicious. Hermione got the idea of a group summons from the spell used in enchanting the Dark Mark. All I have to do is change the fake serial numbers to the date and time and tap it once and the serial numbers on all the other coins will change to match mine."
Tonks smiled as she thumped Moody on the shoulder. "Told you she was a brighter one than even you knew, I did. I knew that she didn't need all the extra protections. Pulling off a Protean at sixteen; she works at it, she could rival Dumbledore in sheer knowledge by the time she's eighty. Watched her putting up wards around their house in West Hampshire when she got back from term. That place almost rivals You-know-where for protection. Only needs the Fidelus charm to seal the deal." Moody glowered at the beaming witch beside him as he shifted his chair further away from her.
"Don't you be talking about security issues with this Muggle around, Tonks. The less she knows, the safer she is. I'd just as soon not have to obliviate anyone today." Petunia looked at the two wizards nervously, then turned to Harry again.
"Did you read the letter from Dumbledore I gave you, Harry?"
Harry shook his head, the thought of reading a letter from his former headmaster causing a fist to clench around his heart. He pulled the ice pack from his face, ignoring the wince that Tonks and Petunia made at seeing the burgeoning contusion that covered his eye. He set the cold pack on a napkin to keep the wood from getting wet and looked around the table.
"I don't think I'm going to read the letter, no matter what's in it, until Ron and Hermione are here. If what I think he wrote is what it contains, I don't want to know for certain so that I won't start making plans without their input." Harry stood up and dumped the melting ice in the sink basin. He moved toward the door, but turned back to face the people inside. "Thank you, Professor Moody, Tonks, for coming over and talking to Aunt Petunia about this. I'm going to go clean up and get ready for my friends' arrival. What time are they coming, Professor?"
Moody growled, "They'll be here by noon, Potter, and I'm going to get you to stop calling me Professor if it's the last thing I do."
"I know but even though he was a Death Eater, the imposter had to be you so convincingly and he taught me so much that I can't help but think of him as you. No offense intended, of course. Just remember, he is the one who suggested I become an Auror."
Moody glared at Harry before finishing his tea in a huff. Tonks, on the other hand, looked ready to fall out of her chair from holding back her laughter at the former Auror's discomfort. Harry smiled at her before heading up to prepare for Ron and Hermione's arrival. He heard Moody ask his aunt to warn his uncle of the situation before he bounded up the stairs
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Harry walked in silence down the path to Mrs. Figg's alongside Tonks once again. The day had brightened considerably and, for some inexplicable reason, even the ever-present mists that had blanketed England had let up. Harry wondered idly if somehow the Ministry had figured a way to contain the dementors.
"Harry, your friends are going to go knackers at that shiner you're sporting," Tonks stated, a teasing lilt in her voice. Harry mumbled back something noncommittal, and thrust his hands deeper into the pockets of his slacks. He was already dreading the telling-off that was sure to come from Hermione about being more careful. The two finally rounded the corner of Mrs. Figg's block, the pleasant normalcy of her home coming into view. They knocked quickly and heard the locks of the house being disengaged.
Harry made it two steps into the house only to be met with a loud shriek and a flying mass of bushy brown hair. The soreness in his ribs from the day before blossomed into full blown agony at the strength of his friend's hug. He barely managed to control his wince, the pain only being dampened by his delight at once more being in the company of people that truly cared for him.
"Blimey, Harry, you haven't tried to take on Old Snake face himself already, have you?" Harry tried to shoot an exasperated look over the waves of hair obscuring his view of his other best mate, Ron. The young man was simply dressed in one of his omnipresent Weasley sweaters and a pair of jeans, shoulder-length red hair almost as wild as Harry's. Harry was privately glad to see that Ron was still intact from apparating, until he noticed the telltale soot resulting from a Floo trip, and hid a smile at his friend's reluctance to try. By this time, Hermione had released him and before Ron could get in a backslap, had backed Harry into the wall.
"Harry James Potter, just what the devil have you been doing that would give you such an injury? You haven't been trying anything foolish, have you? Oh, I swear. You get into more trouble than anyone else I have ever met. I have a good mind to…"
"Hermione," Harry interrupted, eager to head off Hermione's diatribe. "I got this in a fight with Dudley. Not," he stated, holding up a hand to forestall the coming outburst, "that kind of fight. Dudley has been teaching me some boxing techniques, and has been helping train me after he caught me sneaking back into the house a couple days ago. We just…got a little too involved this morning, and, well, accidents happen." He saw the looks of confusion in their eyes, and realized that they hadn't seen Dudley since the end of term following the Ministry fiasco.
"You wouldn't recognize him now. Apparently, he's decided to take his boxing career seriously and trained himself fairly hard this last term. He's in good shape and we've had talks, in a way. We've come to a sort of understanding. I'm not too entirely sure of the reasons why, but he's decided to help and been pushing me pretty hard, which is what I need right now." Harry looked into his friends' eyes. Ron looked confused, while Hermione still wore the fiercely protective look he suddenly realized he had seen her wear more often than not for the last few years.
"Well, if he's training you, why are we here then?" Ron looked between his two friends, the tips of his ears tingeing red. Hermione backed away from Harry, the furor of her gaze dying as she waited to hear Harry's reply.
"I…I don't know. You're the one's who said that you'd be here. I haven't even thought of where I'm going between when I leave and when I go to the Burrow for your brother's wedding. I mean," he said as he walked towards the sitting room, Mrs. Figg having absented herself a few minutes before, "I know I want to visit Godric's Hollow, have a visit with my parents, but I don't think I could stay there for very long, two or three days at most. After that, I have no idea what to do, or even where to look." He dropped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. "How am I supposed to do this? I'm looking for a needle in a haystack, and for all I know, one of these stupid things could actually be a sodding needle."
Hermione sat gently on his right and wrapped him in a hug while Ron sat on the coffee table in front of him, his hand grasping Harry's shoulder.
"We are going to do this Harry," the redhead stated, his voice intense. "We are going to figure this thing out, we're going to beat him, and we're going to live our lives together until we're as old and decrepit as Professor Binns." Harry lifted his head and gave Ron a wan smile.
"Ron's right, Harry. We've always succeeded in what we've set out to do before, no matter what the odds against us. We'll figure out this as well," Hermione whispered, her brown eyes moist as she reached out for Ron's hand. Harry smiled at the two of them as he placed his own hand atop theirs.
"All for one, or some such, right?" Harry could no longer contain the grin that threatened to burst from within him at this display of friendship. Ron's smile almost matched Harry's, and Hermione's shoulders shook with laughter as she pulled the two boys into a tight hug.
"I think my dad would say we're more like the Three Stooges than Musketeers. All I know is that nobody better mess with my boys if they don't want to face me."
"And Merlin help anyone that messes with our girl Hermione and we find out about it," Harry replied. But behind the mask of his laughter, he could feel the loss of the men who he had looked to for guidance pushing in at the edges of his joy, overshadowing the moment. His mind suddenly filled with the memory of Hermione lying motionless on the floor of the Department of Mysteries. His eyes hardened as he whispered, "Dolohov better watch his back. I still owe him."
Ron's voice, moments before ringing with laughter, now took on a graver tone. "Too right. I know I'm not holding back when I face him." Hermione looked between the two of them, her expression torn between sorrow and worry. Instead she smiled sadly as she drew them into another hug.
"My heroes."
Harry, his own eyes moist, could only whisper in her ear. "No more so than you." Ron nodded in agreement with Harry and tightened his grip, and Harry knew at that moment that all would be well.
Arabella Figg peeked into the sitting room a few minutes later in order to check on her guests, to find the three of them sitting on the couch laughing as Ron told the other two of the preparations for the wedding to be held in a little over a month and the various mishaps that accompanied such a massive production. She allowed herself a sad smile, knowing from the look in their eyes that these young children, `Adults, they haven't been children for some time,' had a weight on their shoulders, a weight that no one else could carry. And as she watched the three friends laughing together, she prayed to any deity who would listen that they would be better and stronger than whatever unknown task lay before them.
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Harry led his friends on a tour of the neighborhood, showing them the area that would be home for the next two weeks. As the day passed, the three felt a degree of normalcy finally intrude on their otherwise extraordinary lives.
"Over there is the playground that I ran to the night I inflated Aunt Marge. I saw Sirius for the first time there as well, not five minutes after I arrived. He looked like a dog, of course, so I thought it was just a stray and almost got run down by the Knight Bus trying to get away." Harry felt his heart clench at the thought of Sirius. Hermione seemed to read his mind and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Hey Harry, where did you face down those dementors," Ron asked as he looked in awe at this strange new place. Harry allowed himself a smile as he watched, remembering his own feelings of displacement when he had arrived in the wizard world. His best friend jumped in fright as Mr. Hennessy started up his gas mower, the loud growl of the engine surprising a young man unused to such otherwise commonplace noises.
"Down an alley about a block and a half that way." Harry pointed north, but when he looked in that direction, he saw the members of Dudley's former gang walking towards them, their faces a mixture of malice and contempt. At the front of the gang was a tall boy whose muscles, while not nearly as developed as Harry's cousin, indicated definite strength. Harry motioned for his friends to cross the street with him, but the approaching bullies veered to intercept them. Harry had a bitter taste in his mouth as he realized that his friends were already in danger and had not even been in Little Whinging for a day.
"You, Potter," the de facto leader called out, his voice dripping venom. Harry sighed, exasperated by this turn of events. He had so hoped for at least one reasonably quiet afternoon without having to worry about Horcruxes, Voldemort, or threats to his life or health. He turned to look at his friends in apology, only to glimpse Ron slipping his wand out of his pocket, his face and ears beginning the slow burn that would soon match his hair. Harry directed a hard stare at his friend, warning him off. Ron gave a short nod of the head and slid the wand into the sleeve of his sweater, his color still reddening.
Harry turned back to find the lead boy, a goon named Trevor if he remembered properly, standing far too close for comfort. The larger boy looked at the Trio, disdain obvious on his face as he sized up Ron, the only person who almost matched him in size. Turning his attention back to Harry, he cracked his knuckles in glee.
"So Potter, you gonna share what the deuce is goin' on with Big D, or do we have to add to D's handiwork there?" Harry felt his own color rise as he thought of all the torment these boys had visited on him over the years and could no longer contain his anger.
"If you're so concerned for Dudley's welfare, go ask him yourself. Otherwise, sod off and leave me alone," Harry growled as he tried to shoulder past, but Trevor's arm shot out, blocking Harry's exit.
"Where do you get off, talking to me like some little punk? Trying to show off in front of your bint here? In case you ain't noticed, we got you outnumbered, six ta two."
Hermione bristled as she replied, "I can only assume that you are the worst in your class at arithmetic because by my count, it is six to three and we've handled far worse odds, not to mention opponents, before." Harry tried to wave Hermione down, not wanting to risk a brawl in the middle of the neighborhood, but Trevor's remarks had raised her hackles and she would not be easily appeased. The gang exploded into laughter at Hermione's comment, causing Harry to want to hide as he took a step back, not wanting to be between Hermione and what was soon to be a very sore young man.
Ron paled as he looked at the gang as if they were suicidal, and Harry could only assume that the tall redhead was remembering the rare but memorable times Hermione had lost her temper. Harry vividly remembered Hermione giving Malfoy a blow that would have made Dudley wince, and suddenly felt sorry for Trevor, who decided at that moment to shove his leg farther down his throat by laughingly replying to her dig.
"What, you think you can do something, girly? What are you going to do, hit us with your powder case? Or…or are you going to tweeze us into submission?" The gang's laughter redoubled as Trevor puffed up his chest and posed for his goons. Hermione's face suddenly sprouted a malicious grin, and Trevor felt his machismo waver.
"On the contrary, I fully intend to give you a right pounding if you don't step aside. After all, everyone knows how quickly a fellow will drop if he's had his…ticket punched."
Every male, including Ron and Harry, felt a phantom pain as they simultaneously winced. While the boys hated seeing Hermione angry, the thought of intentional harm being wreaked upon that particular part of the male anatomy could only serve to bond every male in the vicinity over a moment of shared agony. Trevor's wince was the most pronounced of all as he quickly retreated to a distance out of range of Hermione's fist or leg, eager to save himself a fair bit of pain.
Hermione smiled at Harry and Ron, who could only manage sickly grimaces in return. Harry turned back to Trevor and stated in what he hoped was a threatening voice, "If you want to know what's up with Dudley, he's finally decided to grow up and act like a reasonable adult. Maybe you should try it some time." He marched past the startled looks on their faces, looking back only to ensure his friends were behind him. Once out of sight, they broke into a brisk run, eager to be out of range of any latent retribution.
They made it the rest of the way to Number Four unmolested, Ron and Harry huffing slightly, while Hermione flopped down on the grass, unable to contain her laughter. Harry couldn't help but join her, although his laughs were more subdued. Ron, however, had an entirely different reaction.
"Bloody hell, Hermione! In case you didn't notice, we were outnumbered there and Harry didn't want us using magic. You could have really pissed them off. Besides, you shouldn't go around threatening to knock a bloke in his meat and potatoes like that." Ron's uncomfortable posture soon had Harry and Hermione laughing madly once again. Before long, the laughter finally infected Ron as well, and the three allowed their adrenaline to bleed off in merry guffaws.
"You were brilliant as usual, Hermione, although I have to vote with Ron on the whole, what was it again? `Meat and Potatoes' issue?"
Ron smiled as Hermione replied, "Sorry, but I didn't want any sort of scene to happen to draw unwanted attention to us." The three of them sat on the lawn for a few minutes, glad for the pleasant weather and sunshine. Then Harry heard a noise that made his head start to throb again.
"Oh, hell."
"What is it, Harry," Ron asked, confused as to Harry's look of utter disgust. Hermione turned to face Harry for an answer.
"Uncle Vernon. He's coming down the lane and I don't think he knows anything about you two being here yet." Hermione's face screwed up in distaste at the thought of confronting an unwarned and unprepared Vernon. Ron too looked as if he'd eaten the wrong Every Flavor Bean, remembering his few interactions with Mr. Dursley, especially Harry's rescue in their second year. Harry simply resigned himself as he watched Vernon pull into the driveway.
The broad smile adorning the rotund salesman's face didn't falter as he walked toward the front entrance; however, it also seemed that Vernon had not yet noticed his aberrant nephew or the two other teens sitting on the front lawn with him. Vernon whistled merrily as he began to open the door when he suddenly froze, the melody fading away. He turned slowly toward the three and Harry could have sworn Vernon had had a heart attack as his face had simultaneously turned brilliant crimson and alabaster white.
"Wha-who-wha…Harry Potter, you will get into that sitting room and you will explain to me immediately what these…people are doing on my lawn," Vernon hissed. "I put up with your… problem during the summer because there is little choice in that matter, but I will not bloody well deal with your kind anymore than is absolutely necessary. If I had my way, I'd ban the lot of you from my property forever!"
The three friends stood and brushed themselves off. Harry shrugged helplessly at his friends and preceded Vernon into the house, but not before seeing Vernon throw a venomous glare at Ron and Hermione. Harry felt his ire rise as he threw himself on the sitting room couch. `Don't I ever get a break? All I want is one stinking day of peace without having to hear `Potter, don't make a mess' or `Potter, you haven't cleaned the gutters yet,' or…'
"POTTER, I HAVE TOLD YOU TIME AND AGAIN ABOUT BRINGING THAT UNNATURALNESS ANYWHERE NEAR MY HOUSE! NOW WHY THE DEVIL ARE THOSE TWO PEOPLE ON MY LAWN?!" Vernon's face was a bright purple, and flecks of spittle sprayed the room in front of him. Harry watched his uncle building himself toward a massive tirade, but was unsure how to stop him.
"Understand this, boy, if I see anything, and I mean ANYTHING, unusual going on, then I will cast you out of this house on your ear. And until that bruise goes away, you are to stay in the house. I will not have the neighbors think that you are mistreated. Do you understand?" Harry could only nod nonchalantly in the hopes that Vernon wouldn't make too big a deal over this situation. His bulbous uncle sputtered for a few moments then gestured for Harry to leave. Harry stood and walked back outside.
"Alright there, Harry," Ron asked.
"Yeah, he just wanted me to know that he wouldn't stand for any of our `unnaturalness' or he'd toss me on my ear. Of course since I'm gone in two weeks, that's not much of a threat." Harry inwardly grimaced as Hermione's featured twisted into an expression of worry.
"Just remember, Harry, you have to be here for those two weeks so that the protections on you will be renewed."
"Don't I know it. I'll be fine, don't worry. I've managed to make it almost sixteen years without getting thrown out, so two more weeks won't matter so much," Harry looked at the darkening sky in irritation. "Damn, it's getting late. Look, we'll start brainstorming after my run. Get some sleep. We start to bring Tom down in the morning."
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