Guess what guys? (and girls)
I'M BAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!
And not just for any one-shot either, ohh no.
IT'S NOVEL TIME!
Let me explain myself.
I will admit, that even though I wrote 'Delusional' (which everyone should read because it's the best story out there
) and said great things about how I was back and stuff, inwardly I was still dead from HBP. Mostly from the butchering of Hermione's character...I won't lie, she is what gets me through my fic writing days. She died, I died. Simple, no?
I'll admit another thing, and that's I love working in a movie theater. I got to see GoF five hours before the midnight showing, and then AGAIN at midnight, simply because it's my job - I had to 'watch the theater to make sure no riots happen' ::snicker::
I won't spoil the movie for those of you that haven't seen it, but GoF is a BLATANT punch in the face to all R/Hr shippers, and I am IN LOVE with Mike Newell for it. I'll bet that somewhere in a dark, damp room Steve Kloves is reeling from the fact that the director actually managed to convey what the characters were SUPPOSED to be feeling from the screenplay, instead of just falling down dead and not making any effort whatsoever to make the movie like the book ::cough:: Alfonso Cuaron ::cough::.
Even the post-Yule Ball scene that is 'supposedly' a big R/Hr support beam is adamantly the opposite, a R/Hr wrecking ball. Granted, books are different from movies, and we'll probably never see H/Hr in canon, but seeing all teh (spelled wrong on purpose) H/Hr flufferly love reawakened my creative soul. Even though seeing R/Hr get together in Book/Movie 7 will probably cost me several thousand in therapy bills, GoF will still be there for me to remember the blissful days of ignorance when H/Hr actually WERE together in mind AND body. OMGTHEHUGANDKISSSQUEEEEEE!
(And no, I'm not a 13-year old girl).
SO I'M BACK! And with novel material this time. And the good news for you guys is...I have no idea where this is going to go. I have no idea how long it will be, how it will end (well, I have a vague idea how it will end ::wink::), or what will happen along the way, but it will damn well be good.
I realise it might seem a little hypocritical to write ANOTHER 7th year novel (The Path Ahead is my other one, and my master work, which I'm actually fairly proud of), but I'm doing it anyway. Gotta try and fix the shambles that is canon, after all.
As of right now, I'm not going to set an update day in stone. I will eventually, but I want to get into the flow of writing again first before I do, so you might see slightly more than 7 days between updates in the beginning.
So now, after a page of Authors Notes and ramblings, I give you all the first chapter of what I hope is a long and happy road for us revitalised PUMPKIN PIERS (god it feels good to say that again)!
Oh and btw, there will be an author's note at the end of the chapter with information about what's been going on in my life, cuz I know some of you care ::double wink::
*****
Harry Potter and the Stone Circle
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Chapter 1: Surprises, Jokes, and Toasts
It was with a confused mind and a heavy heart that the boy named Harry Potter laid down on his bed in Number Four, Privet Drive. He sighed as he looked around the room that he called his for the past five summers and closed his eyes, trying not to think of anything.
Of course, when one tries to not think of anything, things invariably force their way to the forefront of one's mind.
Harry's heart was heavy with the loss of his friend and mentor, Albus Dumbledore, whom he had personally seen murdered the previous month. It seemed very surreal to him that the man who had helped and guided him since even before he knew what magic was, was now dead. Killed by Severus Snape.
Harry unconsciously clenched his fists at the memory of his ex-teacher. Although he had never liked or trusted him, Harry had never thought that Snape would actually murder the man who had protected him so many times over the years.
Then there was the confusion running rampant in Harry's mind. If he thought about it (which he was still attempting not to do), the major part of his confusion was about two things. First, the house he was currently in. Harry knew that in one week he would leave the place he had called home for his entire life (although he privately felt that Hogwarts was more of a home to him than Number Four, Privet Drive ever was), and despite the unfair treatment he had received during that time, he felt slightly empty at the prospect of leaving.
Second, Harry was wondering about his absolute lack of feeling towards his breakup with Ginny Weasley. He supposed that it had to do with the fact that there were more important things on his mind, but that didn't alleviate the confusion he felt on the matter.
The sudden sound of someone knocking on the door to his room startled Harry from his reverie and confused him even more, as none of the Dursleys had ever been polite enough to knock before, let alone wait for an answer.
"Umm...come in?" he said suggestively.
The door opened to reveal his aunt, who was holding a letter and looking slightly paler in the face than she usually was.
"This came for you," she said weakly holding out the letter for him. Harry recognised the handwriting on the front as Hermione's, but said nothing of it.
"Thanks," he said, taking the envelope from her. He was about to open it when he realised that his aunt was still in the room. "Is there anything else?"
"Hmm?" Petunia asked. "Oh...no." And without another word she left.
Harry shook his head as the door closed, and opened Hermione's letter.
Harry,
I know you're probably wondering why I chose to send this the muggle way instead of by owl. The truth is, I think it's safer than owl at the time being, I don't think Voldemort would think of intercepting regular post.
I'm at the Burrow already, Bill and Fleur's wedding is next week...two days after you arrive I think. You should be receiving an official invitation sometime within the next couple of days. Ron and I are planning to keep our promise and come stay with you for the week, but we'd like to know when it's acceptable to come over.
Now for the hard part. It's pointless to beat around the bush, so I'll just get on with it and say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not believing you...I'm sorry for not listening, I'm sorry for not being there.
When we arrive, I'd like to talk to you in person about what's happened. I don't feel that a letter is the proper way to apologise, but I did want to let you know how I feel. Ron feels the same way, if it makes any difference.
Please let us know when we can come. It really matters to us that you have your friends with you right now, and, quite frankly, we both miss you.
Hope to see you soon,
Hermione
Harry placed the letter on his desk and sighed heavily. In his mind, Hermione's lack of help in the past year was relatively low on his 'things I am distraught about' list. Still, it did warm his heart slightly that she was upset about it and cared enough to apologise. Working up some resolve, he grabbed a piece of blank parchment and a quill from his trunk and began to write his reply.
Hermione,
You and Ron can come when you want. Just don't apparate right into my room or anything like that, ring the bell.
See you soon,
Harry
P.S. Thanks, Hermione
Harry knew it was rather short, but he didn't see the point in laying down all of his mind's problems in a letter when he would probably be seeing both of them in a couple of days. Addressing the letter to both Ron and Hermione, he patted Hedwig softly on the head before tying the letter to her foot and opening the window. The snowy owl nipped at his ear affectionately and took off, quickly becoming a dark speck in the evening sky.
Harry continued to stare out of the window for a long time after Hedwig had disappeared from sight. The sun was almost below the horizon, and it gave the sky a beautiful, warm glow. Harry searched his mind for the last time when he had both the time and peace to watch the sun set, and to his surprise, came up blank.
"Have I never seen a sunset in my life?" he said quietly to himself. He was sure that it couldn't have been his first, but could only come to the conclusion that memories of a more serene time had been replaced by those of recent dark times.
"BOY!" Harry's uncle bellowed from what seemed like the bottom of the stairs. "DINNER!"
"Glad to see some things haven't changed," Harry muttered, turning around to exit his room.
Harry's gait was purposely slow as he walked down the stairs, trying to stave off being in the same room as his uncle for a little longer. Resigned to another awkward and uncomfortable dinner, he made his way into the dining room and took his usual seat, not caring that the Dursleys were already seated and had begun eating.
"What's the matter with you, then?" asked Vernon. Harry shrugged; he was in no mood to try and explain things he was sure his uncle would have less than no interest in. "You'll be leaving in a week?"
"That's right," replied Harry heavily.
"Good," said his uncle. "It's about time you go out there in the world and learn what it's like to be a responsible being."
"Right," Harry muttered sarcastically.
"Don't give me that tone," said Vernon.
"Sure," said Harry. He could tell his uncle was itching to say something else, but for some strange reason held his tongue.
"So Harry, how was school this past year?" asked Petunia.
The thought that he was lucky to have not been eating anything at the time or else he might've choked briefly flashed through Harry's mind at hearing this.
"Um...not so good, I guess," he replied, almost scared to make eye contact with his aunt. This was met with a derisive grunt from Vernon.
"Why?" he asked gruffly.
Harry's mind was reeling. For the past six years, even the mention of magic was enough to turn his uncle's face redder than a singing valentine and send Petunia and Dudley fleeing into another room in terror. Now, he was seated at the dinner table with the three of them discussing his school year as if it were the latest football scores.
"Er..."
"Oh, out with it boy," said Vernon impatiently. "They give you detention for your toad having too many horns or something?"
"Not exactly," said Harry hesitantly.
"Well? Are you going to tell us why it was 'not so good' or not?"
Deciding that it would be pointless to continue trying to delay the inevitable, Harry opted to tell the truth.
'The truth, after all,' he remembered Dumbledore telling him once, 'is generally preferable to
lies.'
"I was forced to watch my headmaster be murdered right in front of me and I was helpless to do anything about
it," said Harry, defeated.
Harry was not surprised at the confusion etched in the faces of his cousin and uncle; it was the reaction he expected from them. He was slightly taken aback, however, at the shock his aunt was expressing.
"Bumblebee?" asked Vernon stupidly.
"Dumbledore," Harry corrected.
"He...he's dead?" Petunia asked, her eyes wide.
"Yes," Harry replied. "I watched him die myself."
"H-how?" she asked shakily.
"A man named Severus Snape killed him," replied Harry.
"Snape?" Petunia asked. "The same Snape that my sister went to school with?"
"You've heard about him?" Harry asked, his interested ignited at the prospect of hearing about his parents.
"Heard about him?" said Petunia with a dry laugh. "That was all Lily ever talked about when she was home on break. That 'ruddy boy James and his famous fights with the infamous Snape.'"
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of his mother going on about Snape and his father.
"Wait," said Vernon, still trying to comprehend everything. "I thought Bumble...Dumble...whatever his name was, I thought he was all-powerful or something?"
"No one's all-powerful," Harry said with a sigh.
"Sure acted like he was," Vernon mumbled.
"Alright, look," Harry said, standing up. "Both of you are acting very odd. Aunt Petunia, you suddenly care about my school life and Dumbledore, and Uncle Vernon, you aren't turning four shades of red and purple at the mention of magic. The only person acting normally is Dudley, and he's either too confused or too scared to say anything. Will someone please tell me just what is going on?!"
The Dursleys looked quite nervous having just been called on their strange behavior by Harry. Petunia opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again just as quickly. Instead, it was Vernon who made the next move.
"Well, er...um..." Harry privately thought that if someone poured water on his uncle's head, it would probably turn to steam from the amount of work his brain was doing. "Dinner's over. Off to bed."
"But I'm still hungry!" Dudley wailed, the first sound out of him all supper.
"I SAID BED!" roared Vernon, obviously displeased at having been caught in a situation unfavorable for him.
Harry held his laughter as Dudley got out of his chair and left the room, shoulder's slumped.
"I don't know what's going on," he said, as he picked up his dishes and placed them on the counter, "but whatever it is, I'll be out of your hair for good in a week, and you won't have to worry about taking care of me anymore." Harry turned around and began walking away. "Oh and by the way," he added, as he reached the doorway. "My two best friends are going to be coming over for the remainder of the week. I promise that the three of us will be well behaved and out of your hair for the most part."
Harry mentally counted down the seconds until his uncle's brain caught up with what he just said.
"Say what?!" his uncle yelled as Harry ran up the stairs two at a time. "NOW WAIT JUST ONE SECOND!"
'Some things never change,' Harry thought to himself with a small smile as he closed the door to his room behind him.
It was somewhat of a surprise to Harry when it became apparent a few minutes later that his uncle wasn't going to race up the stairs and beat the door down. He supposed that his Aunt probably had something to do with it, but didn't dwell on the thought.
Harry looked to his window again, but to his dismay, only the last dying strands of light were peeking out from the horizon, the sky now a deep, navy blue. He sat down on his bed and wondered how, after all he had seen and heard in the past three years, could he still manage a small smile to himself?
The more he thought about it, the more he realised it was because of the people in his life who cared about him. Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, most of the teachers at Hogwarts, really, Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys...
'Maybe Dumbledore was right about love,' Harry thought to himself. 'I probably would've gone barking mad by now if they all hadn't been there to hold me down.'
The sound of the doorbell ringing in the downstairs hall brought Harry from his thoughts. Confused, he looked at his watch and saw that it hadn't even been two hours since Hedwig had taken flight with his letter.
"Who is it?" he heard Vernon ask, voicing Harry's question.
He didn't hear the reply, but heard the door open and then close a few seconds later. Harry paid it no mind, 'Probably just some door to door salesperson,' he thought to himself. His opinion of the situation changed, however, when two rather loud thuds came from what he guessed was just at the base of the stairs.
Blood started rushing through Harry's body as he quickly went to his trunk and retrieved his wand. He heard muted voices coming from the stairs and suddenly a new train of thought added itself to the mix inside Harry's head.
'Dumbledore's dead...there's no protection here anymore...'
He could now hear footsteps in the hall outside his room, 'Multiple people,' he guessed, based on the way the wood was creaking. Silently, he positioned himself next to his window so he could get a clear shot on the first person then jump out if he was overmatched. They were now standing just outside of his room; he could see the shadows of their feet in the space below the door. Steeling himself, he aimed his wand at the entrance to his room just as the door began to open.
"SUPRI-"
"STUPEFY!" Harry roared. A broad jet of red light erupted from the tip of his wand - and impacted on the chest of his long time best friend, Ron Weasley, subsequently throwing him backward onto the wall opposite Harry's room where he slid down, unconscious.
"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione. "What on earth are you doing?!"
"Hermione?" Harry asked, lowering his wand. "Oh, bollocks."
"Who did you think we were?" she asked, crouching down over Ron and making sure he wasn't seriously injured.
"Well when you come sneaking around like that, I don't really know what to think," Harry said. "Especially when I hear something that sounds like my uncle and cousin hitting the floor."
Hermione stared up at him incredulously for a moment then pointed down the hall towards the stairs, where Harry clearly saw two suitcases.
"Ronald, being the brilliant, dextrous boy that he is, conveniently didn't notice the stairs and tripped."
"Well, that's all fine, but Hermione," Harry said, lowering his voice. "I don't think we can stay here."
"What?" she asked, worried. "Why not?"
"Well, the thought crossed my mind that since Dumbledore's gone now...maybe the protection he placed here is gone."
Hermione thought about this for a moment before speaking.
"I don't think so," she said, returning her attention to Ron. "Mind you, it's ancient magic, so I could be wrong, but a protective bond between family only needs to be activated. It doesn't need to be maintained."
"So even though Dumbledore's dead -"
"The protection is still here, until you turn seventeen," Hermione finished. "It looks like he's okay," she said, standing up. "It's really a good thing I had the idea to put an Unplottable Charm on the house before we knocked, or else you'd be having trouble with some people from the Ministry who'd want to snap your wand in half."
"I...wait, what?"
"You're not seventeen yet," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "You can't do magic outside of school. I figured that since that was the case, I'd make the house Unplottable so the Ministry doesn't know what's going on inside it. Ennervate."
Ron stirred and blinked a couple of times before realising he was on the floor. Squinting, he looked up at Harry and Hermione.
"How'd I end up down here?" he asked lamely.
"Harry was being paranoid," said Hermione, helping Ron to a standing base.
"Oh come on," Harry protested as Ron brushed himself off. "You two sneaking up here like a couple of death eaters, what would you have thought?"
"You thought we were death eaters?" asked Ron in a tone that suggested he thought Harry was mental.
"Well, honestly," said Harry, exasperated. "How was I supposed to know that Hedwig was going to get to the Burrow in less than a day?"
"She did get there sooner than we expected," Hermione said. "We didn't expect to hear back from you until at least tomorrow."
Harry nodded and shuffled his feet around, not looking either of them in the face.
"Well?" asked Ron. "Are you going to invite us into your room or are we going to stand out here all day?"
"Oh, er...come on in," said Harry, standing aside to let them into his room.
"Well this is much too small," said Hermione as Ron dragged the two suitcases inside. Harry watched as she drew her wand and raised it above her head, tracing a circle in the air before bringing it down across her body. To his amazement, the room began to expand outward until it was the size of the Gryffindor common room.. "That's much better."
"Brilliant, Hermione," said Ron as he closed the door. "Now then, got anything to eat, Harry?"
"Er...downstairs," Harry replied, staring around his newly sized room.
"Right then, be right back," said Ron as he exited, leaving Harry and Hermione alone.
"Erm...would you like to sit down?" asked Harry weakly after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.
"Sure," replied Hermione, who sat down on Harry's bed.
"Um..."
"Harry," Hermione interjected, reaching out and taking his hand before motioning for him to sit down next to her, which he did. "I'm sorry."
"I know," said Harry, his gaze fixed on his shoes.
"Actually I don't think you do," said Hermione. "I...I..."
Harry looked up at her and was surprised to see she was fighting back tears.
"Hey," he said comfortingly. "What's wrong?"
"I just...I just can't help but feel responsible for Dumbledore," said Hermione taking a shaky breath. "If I had just listened to you -"
"Look," said Harry, taking her other hand with his. "I told him everything I thought I knew, and it didn't change his mind one bit. I don't think you could've come up with anything that might have changed that."
"But -"
"No buts, Hermione," said Harry softly, but sternly. "The past is in the past. We can't change it. Hey," he added, tilting her chin up to look at him. "You're here now. That's what counts."
Hermione looked at him for a moment before wrapping her arms around him in a hug, which he embraced.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"Am I interrupting anything?" Ron asked from the doorway. Harry gave Hermione a smile before letting go and turning around.
"Not at all," he said with a small smile. "You couldn't find anything?" he added, seeing Ron's empty arms and mouth.
"Oh there was plenty," replied Ron with an evil gleam in his eyes. "But apparently your cousin thinks the Yorkshire Pudding is worth more than his life."
"And?" asked Harry with a grin.
"And what?" replied Ron with a shrug. "I'm not that mean, Harry, blimey."
"How very thoughtful of you, Ron," laughed Hermione.
"Tell me about it," he said. "That boy doesn't love food, he's in love with it."
"It's not hard to tell that, given his size," said Harry with a grin. "So what are you going to do about eating?"
"Well I didn't think your relatives would be very accommodating when it came to us, so I put an owl order in for food from the Leaky Cauldron. We should get a package every day for the next week that tides us over for each day," said Ron with a wink.
"Two sensitive acts in the course of ten minutes," chuckled Hermione. "Congratulations Ron, you've graduated to the emotional range of a teacup."
Ron's ears burned red. "You remember that, do you?"
"Well I was the one who said it," said Hermione with a laugh.
"Speaking of my relatives," interjected Harry. "How did you two convince my uncle to let you inside without a fight?"
"We have my father to thank for that one," said Hermione. "When I told him I was going to be coming here with Ron, he had the brilliant idea that I bring along a sort of peacemaker."
"He knows what Vernon's like?" asked Harry, surprised.
"Of course," said Hermione. "What?" she added at Harry's expression. "You didn't honestly think that I never talked about you or Ron when I was home for summer?"
"Didn't cross my mind really," admitted Harry. "But go on, what did you give him?"
"A great hulking bottle of Brandy," said Ron with a grin.
"How'd you manage to get a hold of that?" asked Harry. "Neither of you are eighteen."
Hermione rolled her eyes and drew her wand. Silently, she waved it through the air in patterns that were foreign to Harry, and a moment later a bottle of white wine appeared in her lap.
"You can conjure spirits?" asked Harry, awestruck.
"Well...technically it's illegal," said Hermione, a small blush creeping up into her cheeks. "But I figure that we're allowed to break the rules a few times for the greater good."
"This coming from the girl who thinks that expulsion is worse than death," muttered Ron.
"I will have you know, Ronald Weasley, that I was twelve when I said that," chastised Hermione.
"Doesn't erase the fact that you said it," said Ron with a grin. Hermione shook her head and waved her wand once more in the air, and three crystal glasses joined the bottle of wine in her lap.
"You're not suggesting that we start drinking alcohol," said Harry, looking at Hermione as if she had sprouted another head.
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, handing each of them a glass. "I'm suggesting we have a toast."
"To what?" Ron asked as Hermione uncorked the bottle and poured a little bit into each glass.
"To us," said Hermione, lifting her glass. "Together for almost six years now."
"Hear, hear," said Harry with a smile. The three of them touched their glasses together lightly and downed the contents.
"The muggles drink this stuff all the time?" asked Ron, looking at the empty glass. Hermione nodded. "It's not bad."
"Another toast then," said Harry, taking the bottle and refilling the glasses. "To the fall of Voldemort."
"Hear, hear!" Ron and Hermione shouted.
"Oy! Keep it down in there!" shouted Vernon from the next room. Suppressing a chuckle, Hermione waved her wand at the door and muttered a silencing charm. The three of them laughed and looked at each other.
"To the fall of Voldemort, then," said Ron raising his glass. Again, they drank, and this time it was Ron who refilled them. "To Gryffindor!"
"To Gryffindor!" Harry and Hermione echoed, repeating their previous actions.
The toasting continued on for about an hour, with Hermione conjuring a new bottle every fifteen minutes or so. They toasted everything from Neville's toad, Trevor, to the giant troll from their first year, and Snape being a greasy-haired git.
"Well, this is the last of it," Hermione said with a hiccup, emptying the contents of the fourth bottle into each of their glasses. "No more after this one...I think."
"Who's going to do it then?" asked Ron, his speech slurred.
"I will," said Harry, lifting his head to look at both of them directly. He raised his glass ever so slightly and said, "To fallen heroes."
Ron raised his glass to Harry's and added, "To Cedric.
Hermione did likewise. "To Sirius."
Harry smiled and nodded. "To Dumbledore."
And they drank again, the glass dropping to the floor from Ron's hand after he had drained it. Harry and Hermione managed to put their glasses on the small table beside the window before falling down onto his bed a moment later.
There was silence in the room for several minutes, which was only then broken by a loud snore from Ron. Harry, feeling very sleepy himself, turned to Hermione and smiled.
"You're... ah...a great person, Hermione," he said, trying not to stumble over his words.
"Thanks, Harry," she replied with a small giggle.
"I mean it," he pressed on. "Dunno where I'd be without you."
"Still in first year," Hermione joked, burying her face in his pillow.
"Gee....thanks," said Harry. "But really, it meansh a lot to me that you an' Ron came here."
"We both love you Harry," said Hermione in an extremely sleepy voice. "Very...much." And with that she fell asleep.
Harry stared looking at her sleeping form for a minute before he smiled and kissed her on the cheek.
"Love you too, Mione," he said, and not bothering to take off his glasses, rolled over to the other side of the bed and drifted off to the world of dreams.
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And while I'm at it, I'd like to give two toasts of my own. One to each and every one of you, my readers, for your faith, either new or continued, and one to this story. May it be long and prosperous. ::drinks deeply from a can of Diet Dr. Pepper::
Liked it? Hated it? Let me know.
Well, that's the first installment. I know it's not very long, but hey, I think it's alright. Now, for the update in my life that I promised.
I'm not in Los Angeles as I had been oh so gushing about. Several factors combined with life's inexplicable ability to screw with the human mind caused me to return to Massachusetts only a few days after I arrived in California. In a word, LA was simply much too cramped for my style.
I know I should've been more diligent about my preparation to go there (i.e., actually GO THERE before going there), but alas, no one is perfect, even though I try to be. So I'm back in my little home in Massachusetts, working at my local AMC theater and back to writing fanfiction. Even though I do wonder what life would've been like had I stayed in Hollywood, I can't say I'm not happy that I'm back home.
As with some of my other stories, I will TRY to reply to the reviews I get. I do appreciate the comments you guys leave me and will try to answer your questions. As of now, I haven't started the next chapter, but I'm hoping to have it out before Friday next week. So, until next time my readers!
-G.S.
And if you haven't seen Goblet of Fire yet, get off yer lazy arse and go do it. ::wink::