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Just Called to Say by Marie_Granger
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Just Called to Say

Marie_Granger

Part VII

For Disclaimers and author's notes, see Part I. Thanks for all of your lovely reviews; keep them coming!

For several minutes, Harry lay there, stunned, as the dial tone buzzed in his ear. "Me too?" What had that meant? Did Hermione actually mean she loved him or was she just embarrassed by his admission and trying to avoid the awkward situation? Her hanging up right after it seemed to indicate the latter, but he had no prior experience to judge by.

For that matter, he had to wonder whether he'd actually meant it. Did he love Hermione? Certainly as a friend - what was the word for that? Platonic? Hermione would know.

Remembering back to those awful moments in the Department of Mysteries, though, Harry had to admit that he felt more deeply for Hermione than he did for any of his other friends - even Ron. He couldn't imagine his life without her. What if he'd just ruined their friendship forever? Would he be able to have classes and spend time near her if she didn't want to be right beside him anymore? He hugged Jack for comfort and breathed in Hermione's scent. He groaned. There was no way he'd be able to live without her now that he'd realized how much she meant to him.

Maybe he ought to write to her to apologize for saying that so suddenly, especially if it had scared her. Oh, blast, he couldn't send a letter - Hedwig was already at Hermione's. His sixteenth birthday was shaping up to be even worse than his thirteenth, and he was barely an hour into it.

Harry took the phone back to the washroom quietly and then returned to his room and slumped onto his bed. There was no way his mind would let him sleep with all the confusing emotions swirling through his head. Not even Professor Snape's potent sleeping potion would allow him rest now. A tiny part of him was excited at the possibility that Hermione had meant that she loved him as well - after all, he couldn't remember what it was like to actually feel loved. The overwhelming feeling he got, though, was hopelessness.

Why would Hermione, the brightest witch of their generation, be interested in him? Without her help he'd be no great shakes at school, he was always taking foolish chances and risking his own life and often those of his friends as well. She'd made it clear that she wasn't interested in Ron, who was better looking, funnier, and less dangerous than he - why on earth would she want him?

During the next hour, Harry worked himself into a right funk by thinking of all the boys at Hogwarts more worthy of Hermione than he was. Neville - at least he always appreciated Hermione's help, as opposed to him and Ron, who took it for granted. Terry Boot, that Ravenclaw, had seemed awfully impressed with her Protean Charm during their DA practices, and he'd certainly be more willing to study with her. He might even be in Arithmancy with her, now that Harry thought of it. If Dean ever got tired of Ginny, he'd be a better choice too. He was artistic and considerate, and he was a Muggle-born just like Hermione. Once Harry got around to wondering whether or not Draco would ever be interested in her, he knew he needed to get his mind off his heart's troubles.

He dug around in his school books and pulled out Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts. Maybe planning Dumbledore's Army sessions for the next year would keep his mind off of Hermione. He had a feeling that the club would have official sponsorship now that Dumbledore was reinstated. Maybe Professor Lupin would even be able to come in as a guest lecturer - during the safest phases of the moon, of course.

Harry was only a few pages into the chapter on enchanted incendiary devices when he heard Hedwig tapping at his window. Relieved - he hadn't really processed anything he'd read so far - he retrieved a fat envelope from his pet and gave her a treat to reward her quick trip.

Then he turned to the envelope. The outside said "Happy Birthday, Harry!" in Hermione's familiar script. His hands shook as he tried to open the envelope. Would her letter explain how she'd meant the cryptic "Me too" at the end of the phone call? He certainly hoped so - he couldn't stand the suspense any longer.

Once the envelope was mangled open, three things fell out into Harry's lap. The first was a familiar sized piece of parchment. The others looked like Muggle tickets of some sort. Mystified, Harry read Hermine's letter:

Dear Harry,

I know you usually don't enjoy your birthdays since you have to spend them with your Muggle relatives. I thought this year would be more fun if we could spend it together, so I begged Tonks' permission and we arranged this.

If you want to, use the enclosed ticket to take the morning train into London. I've also included a tube pass so you'll be able to switch over at Paddington Station and get to the stop nearest the Leaky Cauldron. For safety's sake, Tonks will be accompanying you. Look for a brunette with a Beatles shirt and plaid pants at the bus stop nearest your house. She won't acknowledge you, but she'll be keeping an eye on you. I will meet you in the Leaky Cauldron and we can spend the day in Diagon Alley, shopping for our school books and just enjoying a mini-break in the magical world.

Love from,

Hermione

PS: Hedwig looks pretty tired; you'd better let her rest for a bit.

Harry's head spun. Had she sent this before their conversation ended? She certainly didn't allude to it in any way - she'd been signing her letters "Love from Hermione" for years. Still, unless she'd changed her mind as a result of his admission of love, he would really enjoy a chance to get out from under the Dursleys' thumb for a day. Diagon Alley was always fun, and he was now eager to spend the day with Hermione. Assuming she was still speaking to him, of course. They could go visit Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and catch up on news from actual witches and wizards rather than relying on just the Daily Prophet. And with Tonks with them, they'd be safe enough - she was a trained Auror after all.

Feeling optimistic about the coming day, Harry glugged his nightly potion, snuggled up with Jack, and drifted off to sleep.

Harry awoke, giddy with excitement. He knew he'd have to sneak out of the house, but he was ready to risk it, just to get away and see Hermione. Checking his train ticket, he saw that Hermione had booked him a 10:00 ride. That would give him enough time to sneak out and catch the bus to Langley Train Station.

He quickly put away his school books and straightened his room. He made sure Hedwig had plenty of food and water for the day and whispered a quick apology for leaving her alone. Wishing he could cast a silencing charm on her for the day, Harry had to just hope she wouldn't make a racket and give him away. After checking to make sure Uncle Vernon had left for the day, he grabbed his wand and pulled on his invisibility cloak. Then he set off down the stairs.

Harry knew he could probably get out the door without his aunt's noticing, as she was usually occupied with cleaning the kitchen or gardening this early. He just had to hope that Dudley would still be asleep and that he'd be able to get to the bus station at the corner of Magnolia Road and Wisteria Walk without bumping into any of the neighbors.

As he expected, he had little trouble edging his way down the stairs and to the front door of Number Four. Because he was being extra cautious, it took longer than he would have liked, but he had escaped from the Dursley's by 9.04.

Harry was beginning to gain confidence as he hurried softly down the Privet Drive sidewalk. Then, from a few feet ahead of him he heard a voice growl, "Potter! What do you think you're doing outside? Don't you know there could be Death Eaters hiding around the next bend?!? Get back into your aunt's house on the double, boy!"

For a moment Harry was confused until he placed the voice: Mad-Eye Moody. It would be just his luck for "Constant Vigilance" Moody to be on guard duty the day he tried to sneak out; he was the only member of the Order that could see through Invisibility Cloaks. He tried to reason with the man, knowing it was probably fruitless, "But Professor, Tonks was going with me - it would have been safe and..."

"Don't contradict me, Potter, and don't talk to me on the street. I want you to turn right around and go back home. I'll come along and hear your cockamamie explanation if you insist."

Harry turned, defeated, and felt a wand poke into his back. Resignedly, he trudged back to the Dursley's depressingly perfect house. Mad-Eye marched him all the way back up to his bedroom, where he cast a Silencing Bubble and ordered Harry to spill the entire plan to him. After hearing it, he muttered something about 'Over-romantic fools' and pulled his wand out. After doing something Harry couldn't quite see, he spoke into it, "Nymphadora? What's this I hear about your authorizing Potter and the Granger girl to take a day trip to Diagon Alley?.... No, it's not all right! You know they're both huge targets for Lord Voldemort and his minions. Oh... Harry, go call Hermione and tell her not to leave her house for any reason."

"But I want to see her! I'm sick of being cooped up here with the Muggles," Harry whined.

"Well, you're not going to Diagon Alley, and that's final." Moody snapped. "I'll work it out with this foolish Tonks - tell your little girlfriend that you and I will be coming to her house instead and make it perfectly clear that she is to stay indoors until we arrive."

Moody's tone brooked no refusal, so Harry stole down to the washroom and dialed Hermione's familiar number. She answered on the second ring, and Harry found himself relieved that she hadn't left for The Leaky Cauldron yet.

"Hermione? This is Harry. Moody caught me on the way to the train station and says neither one of us are allowed to go to Diagon Alley." Harry said hurriedly. He hoped the news might seem less bad if he rushed.

"Oh, no. Tonks was afraid he might catch you. She was going to try to see if she could get the guard schedule switched up for today - I guess she couldn't manage it." Hermione replied mournfully.

"No, and he's chewing her out as we speak," Harry added, "But Moody says if you'll stay put he'll bring me to your parents' house, seeing as it is my birthday."

Harry could hear the smile break out on Hermione's face, "That's great, Harry! Maybe we can make a cake or something. You'll enjoy the house, I think and I've just gotten a movie that..."

But before Harry could hear about the movie, Mad-Eye Movie had yanked the phone out of his hand. Harry hadn't even noticed him entering the washroom, but he heard the man's request loud and clear, "You'll have to tell me your address so we can switch the train tickets and find your house once we get there." After listening for a moment, he confirmed, "#7 Oakridge Drive? All right, missy. Potter and I will be there in under two hours. You watch yourself, now, and don't try to do anything else to invite trouble!" With that he hung up the phone with a flourish and shepherded Harry out of the room.

"Now, I've given Tonks your list of school books and she's going to Diagon Alley to get them for you. Neither you nor Miss Granger will be allowed there this summer - there are too many wizards that want both of you dead." Moody admonished loudly.

His annoyed voice brought Aunt Petunia out of the kitchen, and she gasped at the sight of her nephew and the intimidating wizard from King's Cross striding purposefully through her front hall. "Mr. Moody? What are you doing here? I thought Hagrid promised no more wizards would disturb us this summer. I really won't stand for it - I'll write to Professor Dumbledore about this if you don't leave my family alone."

Harry was mildly surprised to learn that his aunt knew Professor Moody as well, but the man saved him from thinking up an answer. "We're taking Harry here out for a birthday treat, but we'll have him back before nightfall. Then, as long as you treat him right, you should be left in peace for the rest of the summer," he barked, pulling his invisibility cloak over his head and motioning for Harry to do the same. Aunt Petunia shuddered and retreated to the kitchen.

Following Moody's purposeful strides, Harry made it to the station in record time. Moody ducked into a Men's room and cast an illusionment charm on himself to make him look like an average London Muggle businessman. He then took Harry's ticket up to the counter and exchanged it for one to Rayleigh Station. Harry heard the ticket agent say they'd have to change to the London Underground at Paddington and then back to a train at Liverpool Station.

Moody didn't buy a ticket for Harry, and when the train arrived, he subtly indicated that Harry should follow him onto the train. Apparently he was to remain invisible throughout the trip. Harry wondered whether this was meant as a security precaution or a punishment. He wouldn't put punishment past Moody, since he'd seemed incredibly peeved at Harry's carelessness in wanting to leave the Dursleys. He supposed he ought to just be thankful that he'd been allowed out at all.

Once the train arrived, Moody ushered Harry o quickly. He gave Harry the window seat and took the aisle for himself. He would probably be able to scare off any Muggle who tried to take Harry's spot - and as there was no one else in their car, it seemed unlikely that they'd have that problem anyway.

However, shortly before the train started to move, a young woman entered and took the seat directly across from Moody's. It took Harry a moment to realize that it was Tonks. She was wearing a white Beatles t-shirt as Hermione had said she would, but she had apparently decided to take the theme to the nth degree. She was sporting an unremarkable shade of brown hair - but it was styled into a very familiar-looking bowl cut. She had perfectly round 'Lennon' glasses on as well, but the most amazingly terrifing part was her huge handbag. It was covered with patches, pins and paint - obviously hand made. All of it had something to do with the band, from album covers to a "Penny Lane" street-sign.

When she sat down, Moody's face turned even grimmer and Harry could tell that he wasn't the only one in the man's bad graces.

Tonks, seemed immune to the glare he shot her and chirped in a vaguely American accent, "Hello! I'm Karen. What's your name?"

"None of your business, miss," Moody growled.

"Well, that's not very nice, sir," she replied blithely. "You look like you're having a rough day - I bet some music would cheer you up."

"I seriously doubt it," he groused.

"Well, at least let me try," she replied, pulling a CD player out of her bag. She fiddled with the volume so that the headphones would project loudly enough for Moody to hear.

Cheery chords issued forth before the lyrics began, "When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now..." 'Karen'/Tonks grinned at him as the song continued to play.

Moody continued to scowl at her and snapped, "I was eighty-seven on my last birthday; this song hardly applies to me."

Unabashed - and, Harry suspected, secretly enjoying baiting him - she replied, "Oops, I'm sorry about that. Let's try another one then." She rumaged through her bag again and pulled out a different CD. She swapped it with the one in the player and bubbled, "I think you're just working too hard. The stress is obviously getting to you."

Moody rolled his eye as the Beatles crooned, "It's been a hard day's night and I've been working like a dog. It's been a hard day's night; I should be sleeping like a log..."

"I'm not over-worked or stressed out, I just don't like noisy, nosy little chits bothering me on the train!" he boomed over the music. Moody was clearly not enjoying this charade as much as Tonks was.

"Well, I know one you can't possibly frown through," she replied, undeterred. She stopped the CD and switched again.

She winked at Harry's seat as the song began, "You say it's your birthday? It's my birthday too..."

"It's not my bloody birthday, now would you please turn that thing off?!?" Moody thundered, finally losing his last shred of patience.

'Karen' sighed, "Well, if you insist. You're missing out, though. Anyone who couldn't be cheered up by Beatles music is clearly too grumpy and unfriendly for his own good."

"I didn't like those mop-tops when they were running around making my daughter and every other girl her age squeal their heads off; I sure don't want to listen to them now," he grumbled.

Harry wondered idly whether Moody actually had a daughter. His musings were interrupted by 'Karen'/Tonks's gasp. "Your daughter actually got to see them in concert? How wonderful! I wish I'd been alive when they were touring. My mother remembers seeing them on the Ed Sullivan Show and she even got to go to one of their big stadium concerts. She said her ears rang and she was horse for three days afterward, but it was well worth it."

Moody snorted and interrupted her reverie, "Where are you headed, miss?"

"Paddington Station, where I can switch to the Underground. I'm meeting my mom and my boyfriend and my brother near Abbey Road. We're going to pose for a picture just like they did on the album cover here," she gestured toward one of her pins, "I get to have bare feet like Paul did!"

"How lovely," Moody snipped sarcastically.

"Yes, it will be!" she enthused, "You see, we're on a Beatles Pilgrimage and I just went to Buckinghamshire to see an old school friend of mine who's married an Englishman."

"A Beatles Pilgrimage?!" Moody asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes. We've already been through all the relavant sights in Liverpool, and now we're visiting all the sights in London that are connected to them. It's a dream vacation," she finished with a huge smile..

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of!" Moody exclaimed.

"Well then you need to get out more,"Karen replied saucily.

"No, I don't. I need to be left in peace so I can finish this paper before I get into the city," he snapped, pulling a blank sheet and a pen out of his pocket.

"You have to start before you can finish," she parried back. However, she apparently decided that she'd pushed him far enough, because she turned down the volume a little and put on her headphones.


When they reached Paddington Station, Moody hustled Harry off the train and toward the ticket machine. Karen winked at Harry as they rushed off. She followed at a more lackadaisical pace and bypassed the machine. Apparently she traveled by Tube often enough to have a pass, which Harry suspected was due to her Muggle-born father. Moody's ease with the machine proved that he had passed as a Muggle more often than Mr. Weasley did. He even bought two cards and pretended like he'd accidentally sent them both through the turnstile, giving Harry a chance to squeeze his way through.

Since it was after morning rush, the station wasn't overly busy and they made it to their train's platform without incident. When their underground train arrived, Moody hustled Harry into an empty car. He purposefully bumped Harry into a seat and then stood in front of it, holding the hand loop and blocking anyone else from accidentally sitting on Harry. This wasn't overly comfortable for Harry; he could see very little and Mad-Eye regularly stepped on his foot.

He occupied himself on the journey by reading the adverts on the wall opposite him. A travel agency was advocating weekends in Scotland and he wished he could be heading back to school. A map of the Underground kept him occupied for a few minutes, tracing their route and marveling at how many different ways they could have gotten between the two stations.

Then his eyes lit on a life insurance advert that blazed, "What does your future hold?"

Suddenly Harry heard Professor Trelawney's harsh tones echoing, "AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES..." as he'd heard them in the Pensieve over a month before.

The prophecy... his destiny to kill or be killed... Remembering it always made him shudder, but now he had an additional reason to dread it. He hadn't told Hermione or Ron about it, hadn't told anyone.

'I have to tell her,' Harry told himself gloomily. 'I told her I loved her last night. It's hardly fair for her not to know that I'm likely to kick the bucket any day now. That, or if I'm really lucky, I'll get to murder someone. I'm such a catch.'

Then he realized telling her wasn't the only thing he ought to be worried about. Voldemort had proved that he was willing to hurt people Harry cared about to get at him. Maybe it wasn't fair to love Hermione anyway. Perhaps he should nip this in the bud now to keep her safe. Yes, as soon as he explained the prophecy to her she'd agree that a relationship was a bad idea. His heart sank.

Perhaps he should even encourage her to date Ron. That would give her some distance from him and no one would realize how much he cared for her. No, he couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to Ron; Hermione had made it clear that she wasn't interested in him that way. He shouldn't be used as a shield. They'd just have to put their feelings aside and go on being friendly as if nothing had changed.

By the time they reached Liverpool Station, Harry was in a right funk. He tailed behind Moody through the station just as he'd done at Paddington. He nearly ran into a woman because he wasn't watching where he was going closely enough. Mad-Eye was able to pass it off as his own clumsiness, but Harry resolved to be more careful. They boarded their train without further incident and Moody went back to studiously ignoring Harry and reading his newspaper. Harry went back to brooding about his future and wondering how to tell Hermione about the bloody prophecy. They arrived at Rayleigh Station before Harry had puzzled out this dilemma, so he decided he'd have to wing it. He hurried to keep up with Moody as they walked through the town and toward Hermione's neighbourhood.

When they arrived, Moody actually turned and spoke to him, "Well, we're here, Potter. Hermione's address is #7 Oakridge Drive." At those words, an unpretentious home blossomed into Harry's view between two similar ones in the quiet neighbourhood. Moody continued, "Go on in and see your girlfriend; I'll keep watch out here."

Harry decided not to correct him about the state of their relationship, then turned and rang the doorbell as all his doubts about Hermione's real feelings toward him resurfaced.

[Author's note - I used the Lexicon's essay on the placement of Privet Drive to figure out what train station Harry would probably use. You can find it here: http://www.hp-lexicon.org/atlas/britain/atlas-b-surrey.html]