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Merlin’s Familiar by Hammer31
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Merlin’s Familiar

Hammer31

Merlin's Familiar

Chapter 1

Picking up The Pieces

July 28th

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Night at the Dursley's

He was back at the Ministry of Magic. He was dueling against Sirius, across the room that wasn't right, he thought. They dueled back and forth, neither getting an upper hand, but then he got a spell through Sirius's defenses. Sirius' hands dropped to his side and he looked down to his chest. Looking up he pleaded, "Harry, why?" as he fell through the shroud.

Harry awoke with a start and a small moan. "Not again," he thought. "I didn't kill him," he repeated over and over again in his head while rubbing his eyes with shaking hands.

With a muffled crash, Uncle Vernon slammed the bedroom door open.

"Potter!" he hissed, "Shut your trap or I will shut it for you! If you wake up anyone else in this house again tonight, I will throw you out on your ear! Bargain or no!"

Uncle Vernon closed the door and re-locked the numerous bolts. With in minutes, Harry was graced by the sounds of a snoring Dursley family.

Harry was left in his room, shaking, sweating and crying silently, and utterly alone.

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The Burrow

Molly jolted up in bed, instantly awake.

"What?" Arthur asked as he too, awoke.

Sitting still for a second, Molly sighed.

"Go back to sleep, love, it's Ginny. I'll handle it."

Slipping on her housecoat, Molly tucked her wand into a pocket and quietly slipped down the hall towards Ginny's room. Stopping outside her door, she listened carefully. Frowning, she heard the telltale sounds of distress from inside the room. She slowly and quietly opened the door.

"Ginny?"

Ginny's response was to bolt upright in bed, her wand trained on the door of her bedroom. Her eyes cleared and she sheepishly lowered her wand.

"Sorry, mum," she squeaked quietly.

"Bad dreams dear?" Molly asked as she walked into the room and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"I'll be fine mum."

Molly got Ginny to lie down after putting her wand back under her pillow, and tucked her in. She leaned over and kissed her daughter on the forehead.

"If you ever want to talk, you know that you can come to me, right?"

"I know, mum. Sorry I woke you."

Patting her hand, Molly got up.

"Don't worry about it, go back to sleep."

Molly quietly walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. On her way back to her own bed, she stopped by her son's room and stuck her head in. Ron was completely out, sprawled onto his bed, and snoring. She shook her head and closed the door and went back to bed.

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The Granger residence

"Hermione?" a voice asked from the door. "Are you all right?"

"Yes mum, I just had a bad dream," she replied

Stepping into the bedroom, Hermione's mother stepped over to the bed and sat down. "Do you want to talk about it, honey?" her mother asked while wiping the cold sweat from Hermione's forehead.

"No mum, it was just a stupid dream. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Honey, I don't mind," she responded with a smile. "What was your dream about? Was it about last year at school again?"

"I guess-it didn't really happen the way it did in my dream. Anyway, Professor Dumbledore said that they'd pass."

"Okay, honey. Go back to sleep for now, but tomorrow we're all going to sit down and have a talk." Kissing her forehead, Hermione's mother tucked her daughter back in bed and stepped out of her bedroom, closing the door behind her. "Don't forget, we're just down the hall if you need anything."

Staring up at the familiar ceiling of her room, Hermione thought in her head, Sirius went through the veil, not Harry. Closing her eyes to try to keep the tears from falling, she kept thinking, not Harry.

--

Hermione's mother went back to bed and spoke with her husband.

"She's still having nightmares. Roger, I'm worried about her going back to that school. What are they going to let happen to her next year? I'm worried that we might lose her."

Gathering his wife in his arms, he coaxed her under the covers.

"If Hermione was not as gifted as she is," he said, placing a kiss on her head, "I wouldn't hesitate for a second to send her to a different school. At least we'd get to see her more often. As it is, she's stronger than ever and is turning into a great person. As far as the nightmares go, we'll just have to wait and see."

"But dear," she replied.

"Hush," he said placing his fingers on her lips. "We will talk about it in the morning. Try to go back to sleep."

Neither slept very well the rest of the night.

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The Lovegood Residence

Luna awoke suddenly but not unexpectedly. Sighing, she got out of bed and went to the loo and then to the kitchen for a drink of water.

"Luna?" a voice called from the dinning room. "Are you okay?"

Luna took her glass of water out into the dinning room where her father was working on his breakfast and editing the latest copy from the Quibbler. He looked up from his work and fixed her with a look.

"I'm fine dad. Just got thirsty."

Not really looking convinced, he nodded.

"Go to bed, honey. It's way too early to be up for a young woman like yourself."

Luna slammed her water, set the glass on the table, and kissed her father on the cheek.

"Good night, father."

She retreated back to her bedroom and got into bed, but she did not lie down. She crossed her legs and started the centering exercises that she had learned several years ago in India. After a couple of minutes her breathing became shallow and slowed down.

Instead of the roar of spell fire, floating brains and injured friends, her mind was filled with the feeling of flight. In her mind's eye, she was exploring paths that very few would ever go down. She greeted fallen friends and those that had yet to be born.

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Longbottom Manor

Like most pure blood families, the Longbottoms had received training in the sword for generations. Neville's own instruction was cut short when he had inexplicably cut himself with a wooden training sword. His parents had decided to end his instruction at that time.

He had started training again, after the fight at the Ministry of Magic. Between studying, sword training and working in his beloved garden, most nights he could barely drag himself up to his room. But, on some nights, he could not sleep and came down to do some work in the exercise room.

Neville swept his sword through the disengagement at the end of his current exercise routine and came to a shuddering stop. Sweat dripped off his head and he could feel it running down his sides under his shirt. He walked with wobbly legs over to the weapon racks and cleaned the sword he was using before he placed it back with its brothers. He had been exercising for over an hour and he hurt in many different places. At least his nose didn't hurt anymore from when it broke during the fight at the ministry.

The thought of the Ministry brought back the reason for all of his work. The next time that his friends needed him, he would be ready, even if he worked himself into the ground.

"Neville, what in the name of Merlin are you doing up at this time of morning?" His Gran's disapproving voice called from the open door to the exercise room. Neville grabbed a bottle of water from a table next to the sword rack and looped a towel over his neck.

The man that turned back towards his grandmother still resembled the slightly overweight boy that started at Hogwarts what seemed like a lifetime ago but in reality, it had only been five years. In that time, his slightly bumbling nature had been washed away to reveal the man underneath. He was still a little heavy for his size, but a very solid core of courage and a strengthening body backed up the gaze that he gave her. In several years, it was a gaze that would strike terror into the hearts of those who would do the dark's bidding.

"I'm sorry Gran, I couldn't sleep," he replied in a deep baritone as he walked towards the door. She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm before he walked past her towards his room and a shower.

"Neville, I…" she broke off to gather her thoughts. "I want you to know that what you did with your friends at the ministry was completely unacceptable. There are others who could and should have gone to that battle. You should have told your instructors about it and left the situation in their capable hands."

Neville visibly winced at this well-worn argument between them. He glanced down at her hand on his arm and then up to her face. What he saw there shocked him.

There was a warm smile on her face, the first one he could remember being directed to him since the start of school the year before. She gathered him in a hug; sweat stained clothes and all, which he slowly returned. She finally broke the hug and held him at arm's length.

"I am so proud of you," she said with a tear in her eye. "You remind me of your parents so much that it hurts," she sniffed and wrinkled her nose.

"Merlin, boy! You stink! Off with you, quit stinking up the house."

Neville smiled and kissed her on the cheek before walking down the hallway, feeling better than he had in a long time. After he turned the corner, he heard his grandmother blow her nose. He was a little shocked by what he heard next.

"Merlin, please protect both of my boys."

July 29th

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Morning at the Dursley's

"POTTER!" roared Uncle Vernon, "Get your no good arse down here!"

Folding his latest letters to Ron and Hermione and giving them to Hedwig, Harry released her out of the window and went down stairs. His uncle was sitting on a love seat in the living room next to the local constable and a plain-clothes detective.

"Yes sir?" Harry replied hesitatingly. "You called."

"Took your time getting down here, didn't you?" his uncle replied. "Any particular reason you took so long?" he asked sweetly.

"Just finishing some letters to my friends from school," Harry smirked, knowing this would irritate his uncle. Uncle Vernon still did not like to be reminded of the magic living under his roof or any of the things that came with it. This included owl post, which caused him to turn a funny shade of ruddy pink.

"Well, these gentlemen would like to ask you some questions," Vernon nodded at the detective.

The detective motioned to the constable and the constable disappeared up the stairs with his aunt in tow.

"Please sit down, son," the detective said. "Have you heard of the numerous thefts of gardening tools and the like in the neighborhood?"

"No, sir," Harry replied honestly.

"Well we have received information that you may have been involved with some other young boys in stealing these items and then using them to vandalize other properties in the area. Any information that you can give me would be helpful."

Closing his eyes, Harry felt a rather nasty sinking weight in his abdomen. He knew what was happening. Dudley and his pack of bullies must have been committing the crimes and gotten caught by his uncle or aunt. Now they were going to place the blame on him for Dudley's crimes. Things never seem to change, he thought.

When Harry opened his eyes he noticed that the constable was back and was holding a few tools with a smirking Dudley right behind him.

"I found these right on top of his closet, sir. They seem to match some of the items that were listed as missing," the constable said.

Sighing, the detective turned back to Harry. "Son, you need to tell me who was with you and then I can leave you here in your uncle's custody."

"But I didn't do it!" Harry replied heatedly. He felt a black rage start to rise in his chest.

"Fine, if that is your final answer then I have no choice but to place you under arrest. You will need to come with us."

Standing, the detective thanked the Dursleys for their help. The Dursleys made noises about "helping to keep the neighborhood safe" and "civic virtues" as the constable took Harry by the arm and started to walk out him to the car. Harry dug his heels into the carpet.

"Wait," Harry said harshly as the constable tried to shift him. "I didn't do a sodding thing!" He pointed his finger squarely at Dudley, who smirked nastily back. "It's him," Harry said as evenly as he was able. "Him and his gang. He's been terrorizing the neighbourhood for years, but my sodding aunt and uncle, his parents, haven't seen fit to DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT!" He didn't care anymore how this must look to the police. He'd had enough. "AND BECAUSE THEY'RE FUCKING STUCK UP BASTARDS, THEY'VE DECIDED TO BLAME IT ALL ON ME, JUST BECAUSE I'M A-" he managed to choke back the word `wizard'. He didn't think they'd understand. "Because I'm not their son," he finished lamely. The constable slapped a pair of handcuffs over his wrists.

"I'd advise you, boy," the constable said icily, "not to do that again."

Harry's last sight of the Dursley's was the three of them smiling and waving good-bye to the police as they took Harry away.

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Morning at the Grangers

Hermione came downstairs from her room in her robe and walked into the kitchen with some trepidation. She had just finished her morning potions from Madam Pomfrey and she wasn't sure if it was nerves that were making her queasy, or the potions. She thought she knew what her mum and dad wanted to talk to her about, but she couldn't come up with a good argument to dissuade them of it. Her dad was dressed and looked ready to go to work but her mum was still in her robe. The only thing that she could think of was to take charge of the conversation and keep them away from the subject of her returning to Hogwarts.

"Good morning mum, dad," she said cheerily. "Are you taking a day off mum?"

"Good morning to you too, dear," her father replied, looking up from his tea. "Don't you remember that you two are picking up that exchange student from the states today?"

Hermione grimaced. Great, just what I need for my nightmares, a larger audience, she thought to herself.

"No dad, I completely forgot."

"Well your mother is going to take you to the airport to pick her up." Turning to his wife he asked, "What was her name? Lori?"

"It's Lexius, honey. Lexius Ayers from Concrete, Washington. She is scheduled to get into the airport at 10:30 this morning." Looking at her husband with a smirk (the first one all day), "It's lucky that we have a receptionist to keep the names straight."

He snorted and then looked at Hermione. "Dear, sit down. We need to have a little talk." All three sat down at the dinning room table, Hermione on one side and her parents on the other.

"We know some of the things from your nightmares," her dad started. Hermione shot a questioning look at her mother but her mother just shook her head.

"Your mother didn't have anything to do with it. We received a letter from the Headmaster at the end of the year telling us a little of what happened." Reaching across the table he took her hand. "I understand what bad experiences can do to a person and I want you to know that you can always come to us. The biggest thing that you need to do is talk about them. Holding them inside will just make it all the worse."

Smiling uneasily, Hermione replied, "I know dad, but I'm getting over it. It'll just take some time."

"If you say so," her father replied, unconvincingly. "Now for the less pleasant part of this little talk."

Oh, God! They're not going to let me go back to Hogwarts! She started to wilt in her chair.

"Hermione," her mum started, "We are really having second thoughts about you going back to school. Each year you seem to have a close scrape and last year, if your Headmaster is to be believed, you nearly died!"

"Mum..."

"No, your mother is right. It was very hard on both your mother and I after we got the letter telling us about your adventures."

Hermione was nearing tears now as she watched her entire world collapsing on her. She would never be able to see Ron, the teachers, Ginny or even Harry again. Seeing the distress on her daughter's face, Hermione's mother got up and walked around the table to give her a hug and hold her.

"Honey," she said stroking her hair, "as hard as it is to send you back to school, that is what we are going to do."

Looking up into her Mother's face, Hermione realized what she had just said. "But why?"

"Three reasons really, well four when you get right down to it," her father replied. Ticking the points off on his fingers he began to list them. "One, you have to take the exchange student to school this year. Not really a very good reason, but there it is. Two, you're growing up and we can't protect you for the rest of your life. Three, we've watched you turn from a self-conscious girl into a very confident and good-hearted young woman. We trust you to make the right decisions. This is the greatest reward any parent can really ask for."

By this time both Hermione and her mum were trying to hold back tears.

"Oh, dad, mum thank you," she replied. After calming down, Hermione turned to her Dad and asked, "You said that there are four reasons, you only said three. What was the last one?"

"Well," he started with an impish grin, "you've been talking a little in your sleep and the fourth reason is someone with green eyes…."


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