Author's Note: Not much to say this time around except to warn you that Harry's a tad…bipolar, although not in the extreme depression to mania sense. His fuse is quite short in this chapter, so I apologize in advance. I doubt any of you really care why I chose the names I chose for Hermione's parents, but I'll give you a big cookie if you can guess. Otherwise, enjoy the chapter and say sayonara to the Dursleys. As always, a big thanks goes out to Nitya for betaing this. You seriously rock, girl.
CHAPTER FIVE
DENTISTS AND DRILLS
Uncle Vernon's face was blotched purple when he found out about Harry's impending departure from the Dursley residence. He didn't like the idea of Harry having fun, especially at a girl's house, but he also didn't like the idea of Harry sticking around, causing more "mayhem" for the Dursleys.
Breakfast was tense the following morning as Harry poured milk into his bowl of cereal. Uncle Vernon gave him a hard stare.
"Have we met this friend of yours before?" he asked suddenly.
Harry looked up at his uncle and stopped pouring milk. "Yes. She was with the Weasleys when they picked me up last summer."
Vernon's jaw twitched. "Humph. She," he repeated. "And how long have you known this…girl?"
"Ever since my first day at Hogwarts a good six years ago," Harry replied.
He scowled. "Don't mention that place in here!"
"You asked!" Harry shot back defensively, grabbing his spoon and shoving cereal into his mouth.
Dudley was eyeing him. "Is she that girl you were hugging at the train station?" he asked around a mouthful of food.
"Hmm? Oh-yes," he said, swallowing. "She and I are close friends."
"But you called her your girlfriend," Dudley said pointedly.
Uncle Vernon slammed his orange juice down onto the table. "Girlfriend!"
"We haven't exactly-"
"You're going to go to your girlfriend's house?" Vernon yelled. "Those freaks must be insane!"
Harry stood up, angered. Leaving his breakfast behind, he left the table and took the stairs two at a time before entering his room and slamming his bedroom door shut, startling Hedwig.
How dare that man call Hermione's parents freaks? They were nothing of the sort! In fact, from what Harry gathered (as he had never properly met them), they were completely nice, normal people. There was nothing wrong with them; Harry was sure of it. Actually, they had to be extraordinary people to raise such a wonderful daughter like Hermione. Hermione was, in his opinion, the definition of perfection. It would take two pretty special people to have a daughter like that.
Harry kicked the edge of his bed. Saturday could not come fast enough. Harry had to get out of there. He could not stand the Dursleys any longer. After nearly seventeen years, his fuse had run out. Pretty soon, he feared, he may do something that would land him into a lot of trouble.
He looked around his room. Hedwig was eyeing him closely, watching him for any more violent outbursts. Harry frowned. "Sorry, girl," he murmured.
She gave a short hoot in response and turned to tuck her head back underneath her wing so that she could sleep.
Harry scanned his room again and, for the first time, noticed how cluttered it was. He had books, clothes, and other things tossed everywhere. He was actually surprised he could see the floor.
Ugh, I don't want Hermione to come up here and see this, he thought. He had to clean his room up. Worse, he had to do it without magic. Sighing, he squatted and started in.
*****
Saturday took forever to arrive. Harry was able to get not only his room cleaned, but also his Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. Friday night found Harry putting the finishing touches on his Transfiguration essay. On Saturday morning, Harry woke with a start.
He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. He'd have to shave, he decided, running a hand over his cheek and felt how coarse it was. He'd see about running a comb through his hair too, in a small attempt to help it. Lifting his arm and giving himself a sniff, he also decided that he'd take a nice long shower too.
Harry rifled through his trunk, looking for decent clothes to wear. He wanted to look good for when Hermione arrived that afternoon.
"Harry!"
He groaned. What on earth did his aunt want? Why was she bothering him? Muttering, he opened his door and called down, "Yes?"
"Get down here!" Aunt Petunia yelled.
Harry grimaced and slowly walked down the stairs. "What?"
"She's your friend, so you're definitely going to help me clean," Petunia told him.
He stared at her. "But she'll be here by twelve-thirty and I have to get ready!"
"You should have thought of that before," Aunt Petunia said shrilly. "Now come on. Move it."
He glowered at her. "And just what would you like me to clean?" he asked.
"I want you to dust, mop the kitchen floor, clean the windows, mow the lawn, trim the hedges-"
"I won't have time to do all of that. Make Dudley mow the lawn and trim the hedges."
She drew herself up to her full height. "I most certainly will not. I just got my son back! Do you think I'd honestly do something stupid enough to drive him away again?" she asked.
"Ah, yes, because we can't put poor Dudley to work," Harry muttered sardonically.
"Be quiet. Things have been hard for him lately."
"Oh yes, very hard."
Her eyes narrowed. "Get to work."
He rolled his eyes behind her back. "Let me just get my shoes."
He slowly made his way back upstairs and into his room, stalling for as long as possible. He didn't give a damn about what the Dursleys' lawn or hedges looked like, and he was sure that Hermione wouldn't care either. It was completely pointless. Besides, what was Aunt Petunia the clean freak going to be working on that she couldn't do it?
When he returned downstairs to retrieve some dust rags, he found Aunt Petunia sitting at the kitchen table, busily polishing her silver. Again, Harry rolled his eyes. When he had a rag, he got to work.
Dudley came downstairs about fifteen minutes later. "Mum, I'm hungry."
"What? Oh, yes, dear. I'm sorry, Popkins. I was going to make toast but got completely absorbed with the silver." She offered him an apologetic smile. "Here, let me get started. Why don't you go into the living room and watch something on the telly?"
Dudley grumbled slightly, but took the suggestion and settled down in the living room, where Harry was cleaning.
"You missed a spot," Dudley said, jeering at Harry five minutes later.
Harry turned around and looked at his cousin. Frowning, he stepped up to him and smeared the dusty rag on his face. "I guess you were right."
Dudley wiped the dust off of his face, teeth bared. "You stupid little asshole!" And with a speed Harry didn't know his cousin had, he jumped off the couch and landed on Harry, punching him in the gut.
Aunt Petunia rushed in. "Harry! Dudley! No!"
Dudley gave Harry one last punch in the jaw before climbing off of him and sneering. "That taught you not to dirty up my face, didn't it, Potter?"
Harry wheezed and touched his jaw gingerly. "I'm surprised, Dud. I didn't know an elephant could move that fast."
Dudley made to attack Harry again, but Aunt Petunia seized him by the upper arm. "Dudley, no! Leave the foul boy alone! Harry, go to your room and stay there until your friend is supposed to arrive. Do you understand me?"
Harry got up off of the floor. "Yeah, I understand you," he said. When walked past Dudley, he stopped and said, "Jeez, Dudley, learn to take a cheek."
*****
Around 12:30, Harry headed down the stairs again, freshly showered and shaved. His attempt to comb his hair was unsuccessful. In fact, his hair only seemed to stick up worse than ever. He patted his head again, trying to force the unruly black hair back down.
He entered the living room, where Uncle Vernon was sitting, reading the paper. Dudley was once again watching the television. Aunt Petunia was in the kitchen. Harry sat down near the door.
Uncle Vernon moved his paper down and peered at him over the top of it. "When are they supposed to arrive?" he asked gruffly.
"She said anywhere between twelve-thirty and one o'clock," Harry replied.
Vernon snorted. "Not prompt, are they? Well, that's what I've come to expect from your kind."
Harry scowled.
Vernon put his paper away. "Now, about this girl…" He gave Harry a hard look. "You're going there to stay for the summer. You don't plan to return. But if you get into some sort of trouble with her, be damn sure that you won't be able to come back here!"
Harry stared at him, bewildered. "What are you on about?"
"I don't want to have to get a phone call from what's-her-name's parents because you and your obvious whore have done something to get yourselves into trouble!"
Harry's blood ran cold. "What did you call her?"
Uncle Vernon seemed to be unfazed by the deadly whisper of Harry's voice. "If she's willing to go out with you, then she must be a whore," he said plainly.
From ice cold, his blood became boiling hot. He gripped the arms on the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white. His voice remained unchanged. "Don't you ever call her that again," he said in the same deadly whisper. "Hermione Granger is the purest person I have ever met. She's like an angel. Don't you dare call her something that besmirches her so."
Vernon stared at Harry. "Are you threatening me, Potter?"
He nodded. "You better believe it."
Vernon huffed. "You're too young."
"And I don't care anymore," Harry said. "I don't bloody care. Nobody insults her in my earshot and gets away with it." To backup his statement, Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket.
Uncle Vernon stared at it. "They'll expel you from that school you love so much. Don't you care about that?"
"I've passed my O.W.L.s," Harry said. "And I'm good enough to become a professional Quidditch player. I'm sure some job opportunity will pop up for me."
Vernon's face contorted in confusion. "What the devil are O.W.L.s and Quidditch?"
"Think GCSEs. You know, those things Dudley did so poorly on. Quidditch…it's the wizarding world's sport." He grinned. "We fly on broomsticks."
Uncle Vernon purpled. Obviously, he did not want to know that. He scowled. "Put that thing away, will you?" he asked, gesturing towards Harry's wand.
"Apologize for what you called Hermione," Harry said simply.
He stiffened. "I will not."
"Then we're at an impasse," Harry said. "You refuse to apologize and I refuse to put my wand away until you do so."
"Put it away Potter!" Vernon growled.
"No!" Harry said forcefully. "You can't order me around anymore, Uncle. In about a half-hour's time, I'll be out of your life forever."
Aunt Petunia walked in then. "Harry! What are you doing?"
"Attempting to compromise with Uncle Vernon," he replied, continuing to watch the great purple man.
"You're threatening him!" she shrieked. "Put that thing away, now!"
He finally glanced up at her. "Why? He called my friend a horrible name."
"Something she probably deserves, no doubt," Petunia said. "Now put that thing away!"
Harry jumped up, holding his wand aloft. "She is not a whore! She is nothing of the sort! She, with her work in attempting to free enslaved house-elves, already could qualify for sainthood! You two know nothing about her, so don't judge her before you've properly met her! Don't be so snobbish!"
All three Dursleys were now staring at Harry as he held his wand, shaking and near tears. Slowly, he lowered his wand. "She's not like me. She's a great person and the best friend anyone could ever hope to have," he finished, defeated. Quietly, he walked out of the room and settled down on the stairs to wait.
He did not have to wait very long. About five minutes later, the doorbell rang. Harry's head shot up and as it did so, his heart lightened. Finally, after several weeks of being apart, he and Hermione would be reunited.
Slipping his wand back into his pocket, Harry got up and walked over to the door. Then, with an inhale of anticipation, he opened the door to see his best friend standing there, a bright smile on her face.
"Harry!" she greeted, hugging him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and enjoyed her warmth before noticing two people behind her.
"Er-Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he said, pulling out of Hermione's embrace and stepping out of the doorway. "Please, come in."
The Grangers stepped inside. Mrs. Granger glanced around while Mr. Granger stepped forward and shook Harry's hand.
"Good to meet you, Harry."
Mrs. Granger then stepped forward and shook Harry's hand as well. "It's a pleasure, Harry. Hermione's told us so much about you over the years."
Harry grinned. "Has she?" he asked, glancing at Hermione and seeing her turn a shade of crimson. "I hope it's been nothing but good things."
Mrs. Granger laughed and it sounded, Harry noticed, a lot like her daughter's. "Oh, very good things, although she's mentioned that you and your friend Ron don't do your homework as quickly as you could."
Harry chuckled. "Ah, well, we like to remind Hermione why she's so much smarter than we are." They entered the living room, where the Dursleys all stood, waiting. "Erm-this is my," He frowned slightly, "family, the Dursleys-Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and my cousin Dudley."
Mr. Granger stepped forward and held out his hand to shake Uncle Vernon's. Purple in the face, Vernon reluctantly shook Mr. Granger's hand.
"Yes, erm-Uncle, Aunt…Dudley…meet Mr. and Mrs. Granger. You remember Hermione, I'm sure," Harry said uncomfortably.
"Well, actually," Mr. Granger said with a grin, crossing over to shake Aunt Petunia's hand, "it's Dr. and Dr. Granger, but we don't really mind it when people call us mister and missus."
Aunt Petunia shook his hand and blinked. Uncle Vernon looked taken aback. "You're doctors, you say?" he asked.
"Dentists, actually," Mrs. Granger said pleasantly. "But we're not in the office right now, so you can call us Mark and Helen."
"So, wait a minute," Vernon said, obviously still trying to grasp what the Grangers were saying. "You mean to tell me that you're…normal? You aren't…you aren't…"
"A witch and a wizard?" Mr. Granger finished for him before chuckling. "Heavens no. We're as…what's the term again, sweetie? Muggle?"
"Yes, Dad," Hermione said, grinning.
"Thank you. We're as Muggle as the next person," he finished, turning towards Uncle Vernon again.
Uncle Vernon couldn't have looked more delighted. "Really? And you're dentists, you say?"
"Yes we are, Mr. Dursley."
"Oh please, call me Vernon," Uncle Vernon said happily. "Petunia, don't we have a pot of tea ready?"
"Oh, dear, I must have forgotten," she said, even though Harry knew that she hadn't. "How terrible of me. Let me go start up a pot immediately, if you'll excuse me."
"Please, sit, sit," Vernon said. "Dudley, why don't you go get our guests some biscuits or something."
Dudley stared at him. Never before had he been sent to fetch something for guests. Scowling, he waddled out of the living room.
Harry and Hermione sat down together as Mr. and Mrs. Granger took their seats. Hermione crossed her legs and waited, not speaking, but listening instead as Uncle Vernon continued his conversation with her parents. Harry longed to talk to her.
"So, do you two own your own office or have you gone in with someone else?" Vernon asked.
"We have our own," Mr. Granger said.
"Right in London," Mrs. Granger added. "It's wonderful."
"You've got a lot of business then?"
"Oh yes," Mrs. Granger said vaguely.
"We used to have a former prime minister as a client, but he moved out of the area," Mr. Granger said.
"It was such a pity-he always had some great stories," Mrs. Granger said, smiling.
"Yes, he was very good natured. Never seemed frazzled. You wouldn't think he was the prime minister," Mr. Granger said, chuckling again.
"But he did have a bad case of gingivitis," Mrs. Granger said sadly. "And a few cavities. He loved his sweets."
"My, my," Uncle Vernon mused. "Have you had any other famous people as clients?"
Mr. and Mrs. Granger shook their heads. "No, not really," Mr. Granger replied.
"Although there was that one newsreader," Mrs. Granger said.
"The one that lasted about three months?" Mr. Granger asked her.
"Yes."
"He wasn't that famous. Most people wouldn't know him from Adam today," Mr. Granger said. "Fame-so fickle."
"That's very true, very true indeed," Uncle Vernon said, nodding to Mr. Granger.
Harry couldn't have agreed more. For most of his life, he was adored by the public, but in his fifth year, the wizarding world turned against him, thinking him to be crazy for continuously saying that Lord Voldemort had returned.
Aunt Petunia returned with a tray of tea. Dudley followed her in with a tray of cookies. "Here we are," she murmured.
"Ah, wonderful," Mrs. Granger said, accepting her cup from the tray. "Thank you." When Dudley tried to serve her a cookie, she waved her hand. "No, thank you, my dear boy. Too sugary."
Dudley gazed at her in surprise. Harry could practically hear his thoughts. How could anything ever be too sugary?
Conversation continued on. Uncle Vernon kept inquiring about Mr. and Mrs. Granger's work while Harry and Hermione sat in a horrible silence that seemed to drag on for all eternity. Finally, Harry turned to Hermione and whispered, "Would you like to go up to my room?"
She smiled. "That sounds like an excellent idea." They got up. "Mum, Dad, I'll be right back. I'm just going to help Harry with his trunk."
"Erm-yeah," he said. "I realized I forgot to pack some things."
"Alright," Mr. Granger said, smiling, while trying to focus on something Uncle Vernon was saying.
Harry led Hermione up the stairs and into his tidied room. She walked in and looked around, scanning everything from his desk to his wardrobe. "Your room's a lot cleaner than Ron's," she remarked.
Harry laughed. "Half the time you've seen Ron's room, though, it's had another bed in there, making it much more crowded."
She grinned. "That's very true." She sat down on his bed.
"Sorry about my uncle," Harry said, pulling out his desk chair and sitting down across from her. "I don't know why he's so chatty."
"I think that the fact that my parents are Muggles has dazed him into being friendly," she said.
"I don't think my uncle can ever be 'friendly.' I don't understand why he's acting that way," Harry told her.
She shrugged. "Or maybe it's finally hit him that you'll never be coming back and that's making him so happy."
"There's a cheerful thought," he said, grinning at her.
Again, she shrugged. "So, are you going to let Hedwig fly to my house or shall we be transporting her by car?"
"What?" Harry said blankly. To be quite honest, he hadn't even thought about Hedwig since he woke up. "Oh! Er-I suppose she can fly. I had her fly last year to the Burrow. I think she liked it." He got up and walked over to Hedwig in her cage, who was napping. "Wake up, Hedwig, it's time to go."
Hedwig snapped awake and hooted at Harry, as if she were just waiting for those magic words. Harry grinned as he opened her cage.
"Good afternoon, sleepy. I'll be leaving with Hermione soon, so you might as well get a head start. Go on, you'll be fine. Just watch out for anything dangerous, okay? Take a weird path if you think anybody's following you, got it?"
She hooted again and blinked her amber eyes.
Harry sighed and smiled. "That's my girl. Go on now!" He gave her cage a little shake as she hopped out and took flight. Both Harry and Hermione watched her fly away.
Harry twitched anxiously. Hermione stepped closer to him and put her hand in his before giving it a gentle squeeze. "She'll be alright. She's a smart owl."
"Yeah. I don't know what I'd do without her, especially in the summers while I'm here. I'd be driven insane." He shook his head and faced her. "I'm pretty pathetic for keeping an owl for company, aren't I?"
She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. "Not at all." She studied him closely. "There's something else that's wrong, isn't there?"
He was about to deny it, only to realized as he searched his own feelings that there was. He frowned. "It's Voldemort."
She sat down on his bed again, pulling him with her. "What is it? What happened?"
"I had another vision." When she frowned, he quickly said, "I know I'm supposed to be practicing Occlumency against him, but…I guess I slipped up that night."
The frown faded and she gave him a patient look instead. "And? What did you see?"
"I saw him, well, not really. As usual, I was him. But I saw the Death Eaters, like Lucius Malfoy. Voldemort gave them orders. He sent Macnair to the giants and Malfoy to spy on the royal family. He sent Wormtail and another Death Eater to contact some werewolves and find something called Inferi." At this, Hermione gasped. "What?"
"Inferi? Voldemort sent Wormtail to resurrect some Inferi?"
"Yeah. What are they?" Harry asked.
"Harry, they're the dead. They're dead people who have been brought back to life by dark magic and serve the person who did it," she said fearfully.
"So then they'll do whatever Wormtail says, not Voldemort," Harry said.
"No. Voldemort will have Wormtail order the Inferi to follow Voldemort, not him," Hermione said gloomily. "This is very bad."
"Can't they be stopped?"
She frowned. "You can't kill the dead, Harry."
"But there must be some way to stop them," Harry reasoned.
"I don't know. I won't pretend to know everything about them," she said. "My readings on them are limited. There are not a lot of books out there that like to discuss them."
"I suppose, for the time being, all we can do is hope that Wormtail fails," Harry murmured.
"Yes," she agreed faintly. "Was there anything else in that vision?"
He nodded. "He sent the Lestrange brothers out to attack more towns."
"Do you know where first?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes-Manchester. I've already sent a letter to Dumbledore about all of this. I hope he can do something to stop them," Harry told her.
"Manchester," Hermione repeated. "He's getting bigger and bigger in his attacks, isn't he?"
"Yes, I suppose he is. I think he's out to make as much mayhem and destruction as he can before he…" He gulped. "…does something more terrifying."
"God, what could be worse?"
"There's something else," Harry murmured.
"What?"
"Seth."
Hermione's eyes widened. "His son? What about him?"
"He's sent him away, to live with the Malfoys. I saw Bellatrix Lestrange give the baby to Narcissa Malfoy."
"Really?" She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, it makes sense to give the child to Narcissa Malfoy. Isn't she Lestrange's sister?"
Harry's mood darkened. "Yes."
She placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I know," she whispered.
"If we ever cross paths again…" Harry growled.
"I know," Hermione repeated quietly.
Harry looked down at the floor. "I think we've left your parents alone with the Dursleys long enough. Any longer and they may wonder what we've been up to."
Hermione blushed. "I'm sure you're eager to leave anyway."
He snorted. "You have no idea."
Getting up, he held out his hand for her. She laughed and accepted it before Harry pulled her up into a standing position. She grinned. "So, which end of the trunk do you want to carry?"
"Whichever end you're not carrying. How about you take the front and I'll take the rear? Oh, and I need to grab my brooms too," he said, walking over to his wardrobe and pulling out two racing brooms. The first one was his Firebolt, a gift from his deceased godfather, and the other was the broom that Harry had built the previous school year, the Phoenix. It was the broom that his father and friends had planned on making before his father had died.
"When you turn seventeen you can shrink them down into a more manageable size and stick them in your trunk," Hermione said.
"When I'm seventeen I can shrink my entire trunk and stick it in my pocket," Harry replied back as he stuck the Firebolt in the broomstick carrying case Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had bought him for his last birthday. Swinging the case over his shoulder and grabbing his other broom, Harry got down and grabbed the trunk's handle. "Ready?"
Hermione did the same after grabbing Hedwig's cage for him, but turned so that she would be facing the front. "Yeah. On three-one-two-three!"
Harry lifted the trunk and followed Hermione out of his room. As he passed through the doorway, he did a quick scan of his room to make sure that he hadn't left anything behind. The room was quite bare. There was nothing left in there that belonged to him.
They went down the stairs and set the trunk, cage, and brooms down near the door before walking back into the living room, where Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked highly uncomfortable while Uncle Vernon stood up over them, his face pleasant, but a rather frustrated look in his eyes.
"Oh, come now, as dentists I'm sure you need a good supplier for your drills! Grunnings would be a great opportunity! We can make drills small enough for dental work. Really, give us a try," Uncle Vernon said.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Dursley," Mr. Granger said. "Granger Dental has a contract with another company. We really cannot sign another contract. Not unless we terminated the other one."
"Then terminate it! I mean, after all, your daughter and my nephew are best friends. Wouldn't it be nice to work together?" Vernon said.
Harry couldn't believe his ears. Outraged, he cried, "Don't you dare!"
Both the Dursleys and the Grangers looked at him, stunned. Uncle Vernon wringed his hands. "Harry-"
"Don't you dare use me," Harry said dangerously. "And don't you dare try to use my friendship with Hermione to earn yourself some money. Don't act like you care about me all of a sudden, because I won't stand for it. I won't let you do this."
Uncle Vernon's face turned purple. "Potter-"
"We need to get going anyway," Mr. Granger said quickly. "We've got a bit of a drive ahead of us." He rose from his seat.
Mrs. Granger followed suit. "Thank you for the tea-it was lovely."
"You're welcome," Aunt Petunia said automatically.
Uncle Vernon huffed out a breath, angered that his deal had gone sour. "Yes, well, off you go then."
Frowning along with her husband, Mrs. Granger murmured a quick good-bye before heading towards the door.
"Good-bye," Harry said, before turning with Hermione and heading towards the door too.
"Here, Harry, I'll help you with your trunk," Mr. Granger said while Mrs. Granger opened the door. "Hermione, can you grab the rest of his stuff?"
"Yes, Dad," she replied, snatching up both of Harry's brooms and Hedwig's cage.
Very quickly, Harry's belongings were stashed in the trunk of the Grangers' car and he was sitting in the backseat with Hermione. Then, with one final, disdainful look at number four, Privet Drive, they left, and Harry felt free.