A/N: Meh, I kind of wanna zip through the summer stuff and get to the school year ASAP. Maybe that's just because this chapter was more difficult to write than the others. If it seems like I'm grazing over something where normally I would go into deeper detail it's either because I'm just trying to speed things along to get to the good parts and/or the parts I'm speeding through are simple actions bearing little to no weight on the story proper. So, don't be surprised if this chapter sucks....
On an aside, I always wished that the Potter series had more POV's than just Harry's. That is why many of my stories vary between other points of view.
Hermione awoke to the feel of her cat pouncing down on top of her. Her eyes fluttered open to see a ginger overlord standing over her, purring slightly and twitching his tail left and right. "Crookshanks..." she mumbled, trying to shoo him off so she could go back to sleep. But the cat would not budge, continuing to stare down at his caretaker (Far be it for Hermione to consider herself as Crookshanks' master). Finally Hermione grumbled again and threw off the covers, causing the kneazle to jump from the bed with a harried mew. Hermione tossed on a bathrobe and headed downstairs towards the kitchen to get Crookshanks his breakfast, and then seeing about getting properly dressed after a shower.
The smell of bacon sizzling on the stove made her wake up even more. She raised an eyebrow in confusion as she slowly made her way down the stairs. She didn't count on her mother or father being up this early to cook breakfast, but perhaps they had been awoken by something. Slowly she rounded through the living room and into the kitchen. She paused when she entered the door.
There stood Harry, hovering over the stove. On one side he was tending to a pan of bacon, making sure it didn't burn, while on the other he was flipping over an egg, making an omelet. As soon as he was satisfied with the omelet, he carefully removed it from the pan, laying it out on a plate where three other omelets, one slightly smaller than the others, rested. Turning his attention back to the bacon, he had no clue that Hermione was there. Oddly enough he seemed at peace in the kitchen, diligently working towards a completed task. And yet at the same time, as Hermione observed his movements, there was a hint of desperation to them. She had only seen similar movements from him once before, as he was trying to learn the Patronus Charm. It was almost as if his life depended on him completing this task, at least in his mind.
It made her heart break all over again.
"Harry," she quietly whispered, causing him to flinch a bit. He slowly turned to face her, a sheepish grin on his face.
"Morning Hermione," he said flatly. He then grew a bit worried, "Sorry about the mess, I'll clean it up after you start eating." Hermione smiled at him, but caught a word in that last statement that made her furrow her brow in deeper worry.
"What do you mean, "after" I start to eat? Aren't you going to eat?" She motioned to the cabinet where 4 omelets sat ready to go. Harry rubbed the back of his head.
"Yeah....of course...." He mentally slapped himself for being so dim-witted. He told himself again things were different now. This was Hermione. She wasn't going to let anyone starve him, or beat him, or do anything to hurt him, at least not right now. She hadn't ever let him down (despite the fact that he had let her down on more than one occasion), and he was quite certain she wasn't going to start now. Apparently she could see the internal chiding he was giving himself, for her countenance softened considerably. She walked over and grabbed two plates, making her way towards the dining room. For lack of any other course of action, Harry simply followed.
It was about ten minutes later that the Granger parents awoke and joined them, much to their surprise of finding breakfast already made. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Hermione had just said that Harry wanted to do something nice for them. He didn't want them prying any further.
Once breakfast was finished (and Harry had been shooed away from cleaning up the mess in the kitchen and doing the dishes yet again by Mrs. Granger), the two teens found themselves in the sun room. Harry sat on a chair, watching the birds sing in the trees and a few squirrels jump on the edge of the privacy fence that surrounded the Granger's yard. He kept a firm gaze on the animals, trying to uncloud his mind and feel at peace with his surroundings. He felt as if he'd been walking on eggshells for the last few days, save for those few occasions when he was alone with Hermione.
Somehow it always came back to that. Alone with Hermione.
"Harry," she whispered, sitting down next to him. He glanced up at her and nearly lost himself in her eyes for a fleeting second. Quickly he shoved such thoughts away, for the dangerous road they might lead down. "Why are you blushing?" Harry's crimson mask only increased in intensity.
"Did you like breakfast," he asked, quickly changing the subject. "I mean, I know it wasn't anything special but....I have a lot of experience with the Dursley's and I'd like to think that something good came from that whole situation." A slight giggle from Hermione drew a quizzical gaze from Harry. "What's so funny?"
"You're rambling Harry," she said with a smirk, "Was it really that embarrassing?" She paused a moment before adding, "And breakfast was wonderful. I had no idea you were that good of a cook."
"Yeah...well....just a matter of following directions I guess," Harry sheepishly admitted. This caused Harry to lift his head as if deep in thought, "You'd think I'd do better in potions then." His facade was broken by the grin that plastered on his face. Hermione laughed with him, rubbing his back in a friendly manner.
"But no more feeling you have to do things for us Harry. Seriously, you're our guest here for this next month. Try to act like it? Please?" Harry nodded, though all things considered he was feeling rather awkward at the moment. Something about this, this particular moment was....strange and foreign to him. He quickly stood up, something followed suit by Hermione, and the two of them left the sun room.
"We'll be leaving in about two hours," Josephine announced to the two teens as they headed upstairs to grab showers and a fresh change of clothes. Harry stopped on the stairs and turned back towards Josephine.
"I have to stop by Diagon Alley," he quietly said, "I need money if we're going to buy things. I only have a few galleons on me." Josephine looked at her watch and nodded.
"We'd better go in about an hour and a half then if we're gonna stop over. Be sure to tell Hermione." Harry seemed to breath a small sigh of relief, a gesture not unnoticed by Josephine, before he nodded his head and went to catch his shower and catch Hermione.
/ - / - / - /
It was five days later, after the Grangers and Harry had returned from their shopping expedition, and after they had agreed to a week off from work to both spend time with Hermione and take Harry on his first sightseeing trip of London, that Josephine Granger could no longer stand it.
Though she had only actually known him for a short amount of time, Josephine was quickly becoming enamored with the young boy that her daughter had seemed to take a fancy to. He was polite, reserved, and seemingly as equally devoted to Hermione, even if he didn't notice it himself. Josephine certainly did, Harry held onto Hermione as if she were a lifeline to his sanity for some strange reason. It had taken some time, but Josephine thought she had sussed out what that possible reason was.
Her initial suspicions about Harry were that he had just grown up in a very strict household. The boy literally had to be fought against tooth and nail to relax and not be on edge all the time. Perhaps she had fooled herself into thinking it was just ingrained in him from such a strict home.
She had disregarded that explanation.
What had initially set her off, aside from his reticent nature and his obvious lack of proper clothing, was Harry's response to the tour they had taken in London. It was absolutely fascinating to her initially to find that Harry had never seen such things as the Tower of London, Madame Toussant's Wax Museum, or Buckingham Palace. It was hard for her to fathom that, and part of her did give credence to the idea that Harry was just trying to make their horribly corny idea of sightseeing more palatable, trying to placate their feelings so to speak. That train of thought was derailed the moment she saw the expressions on his face as he saw these sights for what truly was the first time. She also took note of her daughter's reaction, as if there were some unspoken sadness at the corners of her eyes as she looked on at Harry's unmitigated joy.
Then there was the incident just after that. She had playfully smacked Harry on the hand when he offered to help with the cooking...again. The way he had recoiled was alarming to Josephine, especially considering the fact that she was a trained medical professional. Since that time he had withdrawn for a while, till another talk with Hermione had brought him back to earth. It was almost as if he was venturing out of his shell little by little, and it was only Hermione that could lure him out.
As she had noted before, the fact that she was a trained medical professional, albeit an orthodontist, but a medical professional nonetheless, clued her into exactly what was going on. Harry had been abused by his aunt and uncle, probably badly if she could tell just by how closed up he was.
She had tried to talk to Hermione about this the moment she figured it out, but her daughter had been frustratingly quiet on the subject. She knew more than she was letting on, Josephine could tell that immediately, but she wouldn't come out and say what. More than likely it was because of the trust that Harry put in Hermione, and Hermione's ultimate desire not to break it.
So here she was, unable to sleep because someone she knew...even if it was only fleetingly...was in trouble and there wasn't anything she could do about it. Harry didn't trust her enough to let her in on his pain, that would be certain. He was only just coming around to being in a relaxed state of mind for the majority of the time. But at the same time it would drive her insane to let Harry suffer through those memories alone. And though she knew her daughter was the brightest person she knew, except for possibly her own husband, she felt it would probably be better if Harry had someone professionally trained to deal with these kinds of cases to talk too.
She turned over in bed while her husband snored away the night, examining the shadows that were plastered on the wall from the street lamp outside. Slowly the worry began to ebb out of her mind, and sleep began to creep over her mind.
She was startled out of her oncoming trance by the sound of a loud scream coming from the room down the hall. Once it registered, she quickly jumped out of bed, not waking her husband who was still sound asleep, and as quietly and quickly as she could made her way down the hall. At first she carefully opened Hermione's door, having naturally assumed the scream was her's. However she found her daughter as sound asleep as her father. Furrowing her brow in confusion, she turned towards Harry's door...and cautiously opened it.
The small creak it created stirred Harry like a frightened deer caught in headlights. He stared at the door, sans glasses, his breathing rapid and heavy. "Harry..." she tentatively asked, causing him to shrink back into the corner of his bed.
"I'msorryimsorry," he rapidly replied, his words running together. "I didn't mean to wake you. I-I'll go back to sleep...please I'm...." he continued rambling his apologies, and Josephine grew more worried. If she needed confirmation on what his upbringing was like, she was getting it right now, and it brought her near the verge of tears.
"Harry...it's alright..." she quietly said, moving towards the bed. She leaned forward to offer a comforting touch, but Harry flinched back as if wounded by the slightest approach. Josephine backed away, her heart breaking at the sight of it. Her maternal instinct was at full bore. She just had to take this poor young man who had been so obviously wounded and hug him until the pain vanished.
Somewhere in the exchange, Hermione must have heard the pleadings of Harry. Because no sooner had Josephine recoiled from him then she was running by her in a mad dash to comfort her friend. At first Harry recoiled from her as well, fighting against her as she held his shoulders firmly. Josephine was amazed as Hermione offered calming words that seemed to soothe Harry to a more manageable state. Slowly but surely his breathing reduced, becoming calmer and calmer with each passing second. Before long Hermione had grasped Harry in a firm hug, a gesture Harry returned after a few seconds.
"Harry...are you...." Josephine finally said, broken out of her silence. Harry and Hermione broke away from one another, and Harry stared down at his sheets, a bit embarrassed.
"I'm sorry I woke you Mrs. Granger," he said quietly, still a bit reticent. "It--it was a nightmare. I get them sometimes...but they usually aren't that bad," he quickly added.
"Do you want to talk about it," Hermione asked him, scanning his face for something or other. Harry bit his bottom lip and shook his head.
"Maybe tomorrow," he said firmly, "After the pain goes away." Josephine raised an eyebrow at the pain remark, and for the first time noticed that he was rubbing his forehead in an odd sort of way, right where his oddly-shaped scar was located. She said nothing however, and merely moved closer to Harry. He still hesitated as she approached him, and tensed up when Josephine gave him a long hug. Eventually he loosened a bit, allowing himself to be cared for, if but for one brief moment in time. Eventually Josephine broke away, and Hermione followed her out of the room. After Hermione gave one last glance at Hermione, and a silent nod from the boy wizard was offered in return, the door was shut.
Mother and daughter stood there for a long time, before Josephine turned to Hermione. "He was mistreated by his aunt and uncle...wasn't he?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.
Hermione bit her bottom lip, but figured that the cat was out of the bag so to speak. Silently she nodded, before she added, "Don't talk to him about it forthright, he'll bring it out on his own good time." With that plea for her friend, Hermione turned and closed her door, returning to bed.
There were three emotions that went through Josephine Granger's being at that moment. The first was the lingering sorrow she felt for Harry. The second was the swell of pride she had for her daughter in being able to handle such a situation. The third was the joy she felt in seeing the way the two cared for each other. Her little girl was in love, and if Josephine was any expert on judging reactions, she guessed that Harry felt exactly the same way.
/ - / - / - /
The sunlight filtering through the window shades of Harry's room at the Granger residence, causing said wizard to scrunch up his face in a desperate attempt to stay asleep. Finally he gave up the ghost, sighing and stretching out on his bed.
He was getting dangerously close to thinking of it as his bed he reminded himself. He felt more at home here then he had ever felt anywhere else. The attention delved onto him at the Burrow made him feel like an intruder. A welcome intruder perhaps...but an intruder nonetheless. Hogwarts felt like a second home to him, but he still felt strange considering a school to be his true home. And Privet Drive certainly was out of the question as far as the idea of "home sweet home" went.
But here with the Grangers was the closest he had felt to being normal in his life. Here he had neither people gawking at him for some strange reason he couldn't remember, nor did he have tyrants bearing down on him like taskmasters in his every waking moment. Once he had gotten used to the routine, he became more relaxed and actually enjoyed himself this summer. Even the task of homework, which he normally would have found tedious, came easily to him, and as a result he and Hermione had just completed their assignments a month early. No doubt Ron was going to be scrambling three days before term to even begin his work, which for some reason brought a chuckle to Harry's face.
Lightly Harry rolled out of bed and grabbed his glasses. He headed for the small bathroom his room housed and grabbed a quick shower. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he threw on a loose fitting white T-shirt (though it was far better fitting than Dudley's old castoffs, which had thankfully been given to goodwill once Harry had acquired a wardrobe of his own) and cargo shorts. Ruffling his hands through his recently cut hair, he smirked at the fact that it was still as messy as ever, though for the first time it looked like someone actually cared about the end result as opposed to having taken gardening shears to it. Smirking at his actually well kept appearance again, he walked out of the room to the smells of food waiting for him.
As he rounded the area near the dining room, the hair on the back of his neck tingled a bit and he quickly got the suspicion that something was up. Cautiously he made his way into the dining room, and was instantly stopped dead in his tracks by what he saw.
The set up wasn't anything spectacular. There was a simple banner reading "Happy Birthday!" across the room, with balloons and streamers thrown around the room, and a confetti covered tablecloth. On top of the table was a small, white birthday cake (sugar-free frosting, of course) and 14 candles each lit in a row. Flanking the table on either side were the Granger family, each with bright smiles on their faces. "Happy birthday Harry!"they shouted in unison, causing Harry to abruptly stop. He quickly sussed out what was going on. It was July 31st. His 14th birthday.
Due to the fact that he never had any birthday's to speak of before Hogwarts (it didn't help that he had been smacked across the face when he had dared to ask when his birthday was when he was four years old) and that his other birthdays since then weren't long drawn out affairs, he had forgotten all about it being his birthday. He fought back the tears that almost immediately threatened to overtake him, and instead offered a genuine, warm-blooded smile.
"Happy birthday Harry," Hermione said coming closer to him, each of them hugging the other. As they leaned together, Harry whispered into Hermione's ear.
"I just want you to know," he said softly, "That this has been the best summer of my life. Thank you Hermione...for everything."
Though neither knew it at the time, each one of them was unlocking a door in their minds and their hearts irreparably. One thing was certain, the coming year would be different for a great deal many reasons.
A/N: For those wondering, the dream Harry had is the same he had just prior to the World Cup in GoF involving Crouch Jr. and Voldemort.
Speaking of the World Cup, a reunion with the Weasleys is on tap for the next chapter, and speeding things through the summer a bit more till we get back to Hogwarts. Again I apologize for all the rushing, but I figure you already have seen all the cliches involving the "Harry Goes to the Grangers" story and there is no reason to bore you with my mediocre tellings of them.
Besides, I wanna get to Moody. ;P