Harry Potter and all characters, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.
More Important Than Any Broomstick - Chapter 5 - Harry's Home
"Mars Bars," said a young woman with bushy brown hair as she stood at the entrance to the headmaster's office. She had asked Professor McGonagall for the password so that she could meet with Professor Dumbledore on Harry's behalf. It had been about a week since her conversation with Harry about the Dursleys. It had been just two days since Gryffindor's quidditch victory over Ravenclaw and Black's subsequent attack on Ron. She of course was glad Ron wasn't killed. She might have wanted him hurt a little, but not killed. She had to admit she was relieved that Sirius hadn't found Harry's bed. Ron had walked around in a daze yesterday, occasionally glancing at Harry and her. This time, it didn't seem to be with anger. It seemed more like regret. This morning at breakfast, Ron had come up to them and asked if he could speak with them tonight. They'd agreed to meet him in the common room at eight. It was now seven o'clock, and Hermione was walking up the stairs for her first private meeting with Dumbledore.
"Come in, come in Miss Granger. Have a seat," said Dumbledore, with a twinkle in his eye as he indicated the chair in front of his desk.
She nervously stepped forward, walking toward her chair. "Good evening, Professor. Thank you for meeting with me."
"It's always a pleasure speaking to our top student," he said amiably. "How are things going with your rather unconventional schedule?"
She sat down and smiled, feeling at ease. "It's keeping me busy, but all my classes are going fine. Although I must admit I find divination to be less than…er…satisfying."
Dumbledore chuckled at that. "Yes; many of our students, not to mention Professor McGonagall, find divination to be a, shall we say, wooly discipline. At one time even I considered dropping it from our curriculum."
"I may consider that, sir," she said, nodding.
"I understand that the student whose death Professor Trelawney is predicting this year is none other than your boyfriend, Mr. Potter, the topic I believe you wished to discus with me today."
"Yes sir," she said, blushing when he mentioned that Harry was her boyfriend. "I, er, would like to talk about his home life."
"You mean the Dursleys, don't you Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, now slightly tense.
"Yes sir. I'm very concerned about how they treat him. He's told me that he's basically their slave. Many times he's cooked for them and not been able to eat because his uncle says he looked at him wrong. They constantly call him a freak, encouraging their son to taunt him! He's never happy or loved while he's there. They hate everything about him! They've never given him any clothes except for hand-me-downs from his whale of a cousin, even though they have plenty of money, and they don't even celebrate his birthday. How can he be expected to live with them? In the muggle world, they could be arrested on charges of neglect and abuse. Why does he have to live with them? Why can't he live elsewhere? Anywhere else?" By this time she was crying, and did nothing to hide it. She hoped her tears might help persuade him.
Dumbledore's countenance changed to sad. He appeared very old and worn out to Hermione. "I understand how you feel Miss Granger. I know how he is treated there, and if I could, I would move him elsewhere. Unfortunately, that is the only place where his mother's blood lives."
"His mother's blood?" questioned Hermione.
He nodded, "Yes, Miss Granger. When I brought him there, I put a type of extremely powerful protection on that house, based off of his mother's blood. This is to protect him from any of Voldemort's supporters, such as Sirius Black, who may wish to do him harm. No one can harm him while he lives at his Aunt Petunia's house."
Although she did comprehend what the headmaster was saying, she did have one problem with his argument. "Not physically maybe, but mentally and emotionally. They have never given him love or support, and it has caused him to have low self esteem and…"
"I am very sorry, Miss Granger," interrupted Dumbledore in a very uncharacteristic manner. "Forgive my rudeness, but my decision on this matter is final. Good evening."
As Hermione walked slowly out of the office with her head hung down, she felt like all hope had left her. She had just known that the headmaster would see reason. Now she knew that Harry would run away, and she couldn't blame him. She would never have become the successful student she was without her parents' support. She couldn't imagine dreading the summer because you knew you'd be a slave, just like that house elf, Dobby that Harry met the year before. Harry had managed to free that slave, but Hermione had failed to free Harry. She decided then and there, as she was walking toward Gryffindor tower, to support Harry in whatever decision he made and help him any way she could.
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"Hello Hermione," called Harry from the chair near the fire a few seconds after she entered the common room. She turned and walked toward him. "Judging by the expression on your face, I'd say that your meeting with Dumbledore didn't go so well."
"Not really," she sighed, "Though one good thing came out of it. He suggested I drop divination, and I believe I will talk to Professor McGonagall about it first thing in the morning. But as for your situation, he says his decision is final, that the blood protection spell he put over the house will keep you physically safe, and that's all he seems to care about." She started crying a little bit, and Harry took her in his arms and hugged her. After about a minute, they separated and sat down on two chairs facing each other.
"It's all right. I don't have to obey Dumbledore when I'm not here. I got my response from Gringotts while you were gone, so I know I can afford to live on my own!"
Hermione was slightly startled by this news. "You did? That's great news! How much money did your parents leave you?"
"About a hundred million galleons," said Harry with a smile.
She paled. "A hundred million?"
"Yeah! According to my letter, I'll never have to work for a living if I don't want to. I can live off the interest alone. But that's not all. I own several homes across the world, including a manor twenty miles from London."
"What?"
"Yeah! I'm gonna move there when we get out this summer."
"I, I figured that." Hermione took a deep breath. "I'll help you in any way I can."
He put his hands on hers. "I knew I could count on you. I love you."
Hermione's eyes went wide at this pronouncement. "You, you just said you love me."
He blushed and put his head down. "I, er, I did say that. I, I hope it's y'know, ok. I've never said that before in my life. I, I don't expect you to…"
"No," she said, thrilled that he loved her and scared he'd misunderstand her. "It's more than fine, Harry." She put a hand under his chin and lifted his face so that their eyes met. "I love you too. I'm just surprised and honored you'd say that to me."
"It's true. I do love you. Hold on, you, you love me too."
"Yes Harry, I love you too." She then pulled his chin close to hers and kissed him.
"Hem Hem," came Ron's voice, interrupting their kiss.
"Oh," said Harry as they broke apart. "It's you."
"Er, yes, it's me Harry," said Ron as he sat in a nearby chair.
"Hello Ron," said Hermione coldly.
"Hello Hermione."
"What do you want?" asked Harry.
"Er," said Ron, his ears red. "I just, well I wanted to apologize."
"You treated us like dirt, glared at us for being together, and then punched Harry for no reason!" said Hermione fiercely, causing Ron to flinch.
"Yeah, I know. I've, well since Sirius came the other night I've been, y'know, thinking about what's important. I've, well been acting like a jerk, and I'm sorry." Ron took a deep breath. "I know I've messed up big time, and we'll probably never be as, y'know, close again. I just don't want you to hate me anymore."
"Ron," said Hermione, "you've really hurt us with how you've acted. You've apologized before but didn't change how you've acted."
"How do we know that you really mean it this time?" said Harry.
Ron looked down at the floor dejectedly. "You're right guys. There's no reason for you to believe me. I'm sorry."
"We'll think about it. For now, you can stop glaring at us every chance you get," said Hermione.
"I, I will," said Ron. "Thanks. Thanks for talking to me." He got up and walked away."
Harry turned to Hermione. "What do you think?"
She sighed and said, "I honestly don't know. We'll just have to see. Anyway Harry," she said, changing the subject, "What do you know about that mansion of yours?"
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