For the first 11 years of his life, Harry had been told that there was no such thing as magic. Even magical movies and phrases like `what's the magic word?' were taboo in the Dursley household, and even Santa Claus didn't exist, because Christmas was supposed to be a magical holiday. There was no magic in the Durlsey household.
And although the Chosen One, who was supposedly one of the most powerful wizards in the world and the only one who could ever equal Voldemort, had stayed in this house for many years of his life, and had spent many summers locked inside the house, that still hadn't changed. Number Four Privet Drive was the most normal house in the neighborhood, thank-you-very-much.
Hermione felt suffocated in the clean and bright kitchen, but tried to politely choke down her eggs and bacon. Harry was cooking, and it'd upset him if she turned his food down.
It wasn't that their breakfast was bad at all. But the house felt so spotlessly tidy and bleak that her surroundings reminded her of a hospital. There didn't seem to be any color, and there certainly wasn't any magic.
Poor Ron looked even worse. His face was chalky-white under his freckles, and his expression was distinctly queasy. The Dursley's home was the exact opposite of the Burrow and Hogwarts, and for the most part, those were the only two places Ron had spent a lot of time in. This was probably the first time, Hermione thought, that he had ever spent more than two nights in muggle surroundings.
But somehow even Hermione's home, despite housing her two muggle parents, was more magical than Number Four. The house wasn't just bleached of color and homeliness. It seemed bleached of life.
Harry caught her eye and gave her a concerned look, and she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Somehow, even faking a smile felt difficult.
When Harry moved to clear heir plates and began to wash them, Ron smiled at Hermione from his seat across the table and discreetly flicked his wand under the table. Over by the sink, the dishes began to wash themselves. The Durlsey's never noticed, and if they did they didn't say anything.
"Ron! I told you, we can't do charms and spells downstairs. They'll see it one time, and now that we don't have Dumbledore to scare them into letting us stay here like we used to, we have to follow their rules!" Harry hissed. "Besides, I can wash the dishes myself."
"I know…but this gets it done faster. And what're they going to do if they do find out? I mean, their scared of magic, aren't they? And you have me here to do magic legally, so why do we need an adult to threaten them?" This argument had been going on for the last week, ever since the trio had arrived at Privet Drive and Harry had tried to talk Ron out of using magic to carry their trunks.
"But they're way too heavy to lift by hand, and your uncles' in the other room." Ron had replied logically. "Besides, what's he going to do to me anyway? Eat me?" Harry had laughed and brushed the argument off the first time, but now he was beginning to get more and more insistent that they keep all magical things to a minimum. Everything was put away after it was used, all spell books were kept inside their trunks, and all wands were hidden from plain view. The hiding was beginning to make Hermione edgy.
"They know that magic exists, and they know that we aren't allowed to do magic in front of muggles who don't already know about it." Hermione pointed out later that day. "So why can't we do magic to help you out?"
"You can." Harry replied stiffly, still leafing through a defense book looking for anything useful. "Just not in front of them."
"But why? Like Ron said, it's not like they can do anything to us. If anything, it gives us the advantage over them. And we'd only be using it to help them; it wouldn't hurt anybody."
"Just drop it, Hermione."
"But-"
"Please." The pleading look he directed at her was enough to shut her up, but only for a few minutes.
"Why do they hate magic so much?" She asked hesitantly. Maybe, if she knew their reason, she'd understand enough to drop it.
"They don't hate, I don't think. I think they're afraid of it. It really scares them, because it's something they don't have, and don't understand. I'm not really sure why they're so…why they act so strongly about it, just that being normal is the most important thing here."
"Here…in their house?" Ron asked blankly.
"No. Here as in Privet Drive." Harry's voice was full of resentment, and Hermione knew about how people looked at him here because he was different. He'd warned both of them about it before they'd left the train station, but it was different then seeing neighbors stare at him only to turn away suspiciously every time he turned to look their way. The people in Harry's neighborhood were both nosey and judgmental.
"But…but they know about magic-"
"No." Harry's cold, flat voice interrupted Ron's abruptly. "They know that magic exists. And I suppose Aunt Petunia knows a little more than she lets on about the magical world. But the Durlsey's don't know anything about magic."
"Right. Well, they know that magic exists, so why do they act mortified every time you mention it?"
"Their probably afraid that someone will overhear it." Hermione replied, thinking again of how nosey Harry's neighbors were.
"No. I think…I guess even though they see it sometimes, and there's no way to explain some of the things that happen, they still don't believe in it. It's like every time you do magic in front of them, it's proving that it really does exist. That's how it is for my Uncle anyway. For Aunt Petunia…I think she was always jealous of my mum for having something she could never have. For her, it's like every time she sees or hears about magic you're shoving it in her face that you have something she'll never have." Harry's response was slow and thought-out, and Hermione could tell that he'd thought about it before.
"Your aunt's makes sense, but your uncle's… I mean, he's seen it! How could he still not believe in it?" All three of them were quiet after Hermione's question, until Ron's sense of humor broke the silence.
"Well…he obviously believes in it enough that it scares him." Ron's grin reminded Hermione that he was, in fact, related to the twins. As did the loud screech that echoed up the stairs.
"Ron…what'd you do?" Harry asked cautiously, unsure of whether to worry, yell, or laugh.
"I think your aunt's just found the dishes." Ron replied.
"But surely their done washing themselves' by now." Hermione pointed out, and all three winced at the sounds of glass shattering in the kitchen below.
"They're drying themselves' now." Ron answered evilly, chuckling.
Harry tried to tell Ron off for it, but in the end the humor of the situation overcame any anger and soon all three of them were laughing.
But later that night, Hermione was still replaying the conversation from earlier over in her head. Harry's replied had sounded…off.
"Harry?" She asked, turning in her bedroll to face her friend's. They took turns with the bed, and that night was Ron's night to use it, which left Harry and Hermione on the floor.
Harry let out a sleepy grunt, but at least he was still awake. "Do you believe in magic?" Harry turned to face her and blinked sleepily at her, rubbing his eyes.
"Whadda yah mean?" He mumbled, voice thick and tired. "'Course I do. I've been at Hogwarts with you all this time, how could I not?"
"Well…it's just, you were acting weird earlier about Ron and that spell."
Harry moaned and buried his face in the pillows before muttering, "I thought I told you to drop that." When Hermione didn't say anything, he finally relented and told her a little more. "It's just, I feel weird about having you and Ron here, and having Ron be able to do magic, and leaving the Durlsey's for good. It's all what I've always wanted, you know? I mean, to use magic in front of Uncle Vernon, and have you and Ron with me here instead of me being stuck here by myself, and being able to get revenge on the Durlsey's for everything they've put me through and be able to get away with it. But now that it's actually time to leave, I think…I think I'm still afraid to upset them."
Hermione sighed quietly to herself and thought about how she should handle this. "Well, now you have Ron and I to watch your back, and we can cast spells all over the house that they can't do a thing about. Seriously. Let's leave with a bang." She directed a comforting smile at him, and Harry grinned back.
A week later, Harry Potter left Number Four Privet Drive behind him. Nothing looked different about it (from the outside anyway; inside, the trio had turned several pieces of furniture different colors and cast several other colorful hexes that looked odd, but no one else on Privet Drive needed to know about that.) but something felt different about it. There was a lived-in, much-loved feeling to it…a magical feeling to it. The house seemed both enticing and warm.
A week after these changes, the neighbors saw the Durlsey's leave Privet Drive muttering something about ruddy hocus-pocus, and never understood why the residents of Number Four were leaving the house when it had just begun to seem inviting and safe.
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