Je Volonté

A/n: Hello and Welcome to my newest story “Je Volonté”! I feel like I'm hosting a game show! Anyways, I got the idea for this story from several of my favorite fics on portkey, but this is all my own. I know what your thinking, geez; this girl has bitten off more than she can chew. Three stories at a time?! Yeah, I know crazy, right? Well, I had to get the first chapter out before Book 7 comes out...TOMORROW! Lol. Deadline didn't go so well, but I am now. So idc what happens in book 7! This story will go on!

“Je Volonté” Is directly translated from French to English as “I will”. This story's title was the most difficult to come up with. I couldn't think of anything good. So my sister suggests, “Voulez Vous”. I loved it. But I had forgotten what it meant. My sister said it meant “Will” and I thought, “That is perfect!” But when I looked it up on line (to be sure) it said, “Want” So Voulez Vous means “Want you”. As appropriate as it would be...that wasn't what I wanted my story to be. So I searched and searched and searched my brain and FINALLY remember Je Volonté meaning “I will” in French. That's the short explanation for the long title process! Hope it didn't all go to waste!

And since I had to get this out before Tm. My NEW beta, Viet, couldn't beta in time so I'm sending it to him to beta right now so I'll repost the more grammatically correct chapter!

Oh, and this is my first attempt at a NON-AU story. Never done one before, so bare with me. I will say this first chapter may remind you of another story. I assure you it will not be like that one, I didn't mean for it to be, but someone that read the chapter early pointed it out! Sorry. If you don't know what I'm talking about...just keep reading!

Here we go!

~*~

Harry Potter lay on his back in his sweltering hot bedroom on his bed, staring at the ceiling. A couple of weeks had gone by since Dumbledore's funeral, but the loss was still fresh in his mind. Another one gone. Harry felt like he should be keeping a tally. It was one of the many deaths to come in this war. He had lost his parents long ago, then Cedric, then Sirius...'how many more would go?' he wondered. Many, he supposed. He didn't know who though. Who would it be? Would it be one of his classmates? One of his close friends? Ginny, Neville...or Ron...or, oh god...Hermione. Harry didn't want to let it happen. He didn't even want to think-

“Harry!” an angry male voice carried up the stairs and into his room.

“Oh, for Merlin's sake...” Harry rolled his eyes and jumped up, throwing open the door and trampling down the stairs. “What is it Uncle Vernon...What do you need now-I mean-” He stopped when he saw that familiar mop of red hair. “Ron!” He exclaimed happily.

“I don't want any of those people coming here! And they certainly won't be-” Ron held his want to Vernon's neck, daring him to continue. Ron may not be the best wizard but he could do a little damage, and it threatened Vernon all the same. “Oh get it now before anyone sees you,” Vernon said, roughly pushing Ron in the house. “Petunia!”

The two best friends shared a smile and Harry wondered what in the world Ron was doing here.

“Vernon, what is it-oh! He's one of them, isn't he?” she asked, her voice hardening.

“Aunt Petunia, please. Let him stay...he won't be here long. I swear.”

She thought for a moment and considered the possibility of tone of those men from before, or worse, Dumbledore, whom she still didn't know had passed, would come back to punish them.

“No magic,” Petunia warned. “Don't let anyone see you. And not long.”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry responded, dead pan, but still grateful.

As the very tense and frustrated Vernon and Petunia left the room, Harry pulled Ron into a brotherly hug and exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Ron shrugged. “Just checking in on you. After all that happened...Hermione knows I'm here...she should be here any moment.”

The cracked open door swung fully open to reveal none other than the one and only Hermione Granger. “Oh Harry!” She cried, dropping a small bag she was holding and jumped into him, hugging him tightly. Harry smiled and held her to him. He had missed this side of Hermione, which he had not seen too much of in his sixth year at Hogwarts. The hug felt a bit uncomfortable, considering that he had felt so badly this summer...and that part of him had been angry with his two best friends for the distance they had kept the last year. But he welcomed her warmth all the same. She pulled back suddenly and began ranting.

“Oh, Harry. I've been so worried about you! Merlin-you look terrible No, No, I don't mean it that way, I just mean-”

“Blimey, Hermione, take a breath!” Ron exclaimed jokingly.

“Oh, shut it, Ron. I'm so glad to see you, Harry,” Hermione pulled him into another hug.

“It's good to see you, too, Hermione,” Harry told her.

“Right, well,” Hermione recovered, wiping a few unexpected tears that had come to her eyes thinking about the events of last year and just why she was so worried. “We won't be staying long. Just a day or so. That's alright, isn't it?”

Even if Harry wanted to say no he probably couldn't have. The look on her face was pleading him; a sad, anxious, worried look that was carved into her face made him worry that she was worrying to much. “Of course its okay,” Harry smiled. “Trust me, I'm just glad to company,” he closed the front door. “C'mon, I'll show you upstairs.”

They followed him up the stairs to Harry's bedroom door. “It's not much,” He opened it, but it's my room.” He led them in. Hermione couldn't hold back the small gasp that left her lips as the door swung open. The tiny room gave Harry almost no room and the bleakness of it all made her depressed.

“Wow, you weren't lying when you said it was small,” Ron commented.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Its alright, Hermione,” Harry shrugged. “He's right. But its better than a broom closet.”

There was an uncomfortable silence between them at the mention of Harry's old living arrangements that had probably ruined whatever happy mood there was.

“It's...quiet,” Hermione said softly, looking around the room.

“Hermione...” Harry shook his head at her need to gloss over his quarters, but he let it go. “You guys can, um, just put your stuff down in here...”

“We can add a bad in for Ron and ...uh,” Hermione stopped. She didn't know where she was supposed to sleep. She wouldn't mind sleeping in the same room as the boys, considering that it's not like they'd be in the same bed, but she didn't know how they felt.

Finally Harry spoke up. “My Aunt would probably find it more...appropriate, if you stayed in the guest room that Aunt Marge usually sleeps in. Its not that I care...but...”

“Alright,” Hermione said, glad that the situation was resolved. “That'll do. So what has been going with you this summer?”

Harry shrugged. “Nothing. Listening to the news, hoping nothings going wrong. Other than that I've got nothing to do. What bout you guys?”

“Nothing,” Ron said. “Just mostly hanging out with Fred and George...they're joke shop is really moving. Mum's going bloody insane about the wedding plans and I've been deknoming the garden every week.”

Harry laughed. “The weddings been rough?”

“You have no idea, mate, just wait till you get there.” He said.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, wishing he were already cooped up in the lazy burrow.

“Well, I've had nothing to do... Besides write you and worry about you,” She sighed. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Fine, Hermione,” He reassured her again. “Just can't wait to get out of here.”

“Yeah, well, we've got that taken care of. The moment we can get you out of here, we will. I don't know when, father says you need to stay for a certain amount...I dunno. But we'll have you for your birthday and the wedding. Mum's terribly excited your going to be there. And, we'll, you know...probably go to Grimmauld soon after. I-I still haven't told my mum we're not going to Hogwarts, next year. I don't know how to,” Ron said.

“I never told my parents either.” Hermione added quietly. “They'll be terribly disappointed.”

“You don't have to, you know. You could go back to Hogwarts, for your last year,” Harry suggested hopefully.

“No!” They both exclaimed.

“Harry, mate, we told you we'd stick with you,” Ron reminded him.

“Harry James, don't even think about it,” Hermione warned. `We are not going to leave you.”

“But Hogwarts will be safe...and you'll probably get Head Girl...” Harry tried to convince them. Its not that he didn't need their help...but he felt they were safer at school.

But Hermione looked unbreakable. “End of story. Drop it.”

Harry, threatened by the serious tone in both their voices, let it go for now, but knew that the conversation was not over yet.

“So, um, have you heard from Remus?” Ron tried to break trough the intensity of the moment.

“Yeah, practically every week. I write back, got nothing else to do,” Harry shrugged.

“Yet you find it extremely hard to create a semi-long response to our letters.” Hermione stated harshly.

Harry let a moment of silence pass before saying,” Sometimes I didn't know what to say.”

Hermione just looked in the other direction, walking to the window and looking out at it. There was a long moment of silence between the trio, until Hermione spoke.

“I expect we will have a lot of research to do this summer. A lot of work. A lot will be at Grimmauld, though.”

“I don't even know where to start,” Harry sighed.

“We'll figure it out,” Hermione faced him, turning from the window. “Together.”

Ron smiled at him and repeated, “Together,” before the screech of “Dinner!” rang through the house.

“Don't talk too much...they're not ones for pleasant conversation. You'll get the hang of it.”

For dinner, Petunia had made a light pasta dish with what Ron thought was a `weird' sauce.

The three opted to sit next to each other, Harry in the middle, the other two on either side, while Dudley sat across from them next to his mother, and Vernon took the head of the table. Dinner was tense to say the least. Vernon just shoved the pasta in his mouth quickly with his fork while Petunia took her time, cutting each pasta noodle carefully, staring down at her plate. Dudley took to piling tons of pasta on his fork and hurrying to race through three plates of food while staring at Hermione in a way that made both boys feel sick. The only sound was the scraping and screeching of the utensils as they hit the glass plate and the noise of chewing and sipping.

“Dinner is delicious, Mrs. Dursley,” Hermione complimented politely.

At Petunia's curt nod, Hermione realised Harry had been right when he suggested to not attempt at a conversation. These people were hardly civil.

“Yeah, it's good, mum. I'm on my fourth plate. I have to eat a lot to...uh, build up the muscles...” Dudley flexed his muscle as Harry and Ron tried to hold in their laughter.

Hermione smiled politely. “Yes, I see.”

“I'm a wrestler...and a good one. Champion,” Dudley commented.

Harry quickly covered his snort with a loud cough and took a sip of his drink as the glass hid his smirk.

“I don't really believe in violent sports,” Hermione smiled weakly at Dudley, whose face fell quickly and continued to shovel food into his mouth quietly.

Harry smiled proudly to himself for Hermione's response as the rest of the dinner continued in silence. When the meal had concluded, Harry, in old habit, began to pick up the dishes. Harry took them all into the kitchen, behind Aunt Petunia. He offered to do the dishes, since Vernon and Dursley were about to go out, while Ron and Hermione cleared up. He was almost done when the two walked in laughing.

“Well, that was an interesting dinner,” Hermione commented aloud, leaning against the counter.

“No kidding,” Ron joked, laughing. Harry smiled and chuckled at the memory of the scene that had been acted out minutes ago.

“Harry?” Hermione asked. “Do you want some help?”

“No, no, it's fine,” Harry assured her.

“Nonsense, it's not your responsibility.” Hermione stood beside him, starting to wash her own.

“As much as I'd like to help...” Ron started. “I have to go use the bathroom.” He left the two alone with his dish.

As they washed one dish in silence, Harry finally got up the courage to ask a question that he'd been dying to since the end of 6^th year. “So, uh, what's the deal with you and Ron?” He asked cautiously, glancing in her direction.

“What?” She glanced at him, drying a plate he handed her.

“Just wondering,” He shrugged.

She sighed. “Are you sure you want to know this? Harry, I don't want o make things weird-”

“Tell me,” Harry encouraged her. “You're together?”

“Well, uh, yes. I guess,” She said uneasily, a plate slipped through her slippery fingers and clattered to the floor into a million pieces as she said so. “UUhhh...” She groaned.

“It's alright,” he said.

“No, I broke the bloody-”

“Careful, Hermione!” He warned, but she slipped on water and fell to the ground. “Don't-” he grabbed her arm to pull her up but they both ended up falling to the ground in a thud. “-get cut by the glass,” Harry finished with a laugh.

Hermione started to laugh a little. Harry slowly started to get up, helping Hermione up by the hand. She slipped a bit again on the glass, but thankfully he caught her. Standing on their own two feet now, still holding hands, their laughter died when they looked directly into each other's eyes. His smile dropped from his face as he examined her, eyes searching her face. Merlin, she was pretty. He had always known that, but for some reason the way the light his her chocolate brown eyes shown as she laughed and her hair, no longer that `bushy', fell in radiant, soft curls that he could only imagine how they would feel in between in his fingers. Her body was slim, but not so skinny that she looked sickly, where her curves fit her perfectly. They were so lost in each others gaze that the stamping noise of Ron's feet and his booking voice startled them.

“Took me forever to find your loo...” Ron said, causing them to both jump, their hands coming apart and face Ron. “What the bloody hell happened in here, a typhoon?” Ron looked around at the spilled water and broken glass.

Hermione gave a nervous laugh and looked at Harry. “I dropped a plate-and then I slipped on water-and...”

“Pulled me down with her,” Harry added. Ron looked at them strangely.

“You had to be there,” Hermione ended with a smiled.

“Whatever,” he shrugged. “Oh, look, you're bleeding.”

Harry and Hermione looked down and saw the tiniest speck of blood coming from her arm. “Oh, Ron, it's just a bit,” she wiped it off.

“Good,” Ron smiled. “WE might want to-uh-clean this up.”

“Right,” Harry said. “Can you-” He looked at Hermione, seeing as he couldn't legally do magic, despite his Aunt's wishes for no magic.

Hermione cleared up the mess quickly and they finished, deciding to retire upstairs.

Minutes later, a knock sounded on the door. “Aunt Petunia?” he opened the door.

“I-I put some fresh linens in the guest bedroom. I figured you,” she looked to Hermione. “Would sleep there.”

Hermione nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Dursley.”

Just as Petunia was about to close the door, she dared herself to ask. “Will you be leaving tomorrow?”

“No,” Harry answered.

“Dumbledore told us he had to stay here till his birthday,” Ron added.

“Dumbledore...has he-” She started cautiously; questioning about the headmaster, but murmurs interrupted her.

“You haven't told her yet have you?” Hermione asked.

“She doesn't know?” Ron asked softly.

Petunia looked at them curiously, wondering what piece of information about Dumbledore was so important.

“Aunt Petunia,” Harry breathed, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “Dumbledore is dead.”

Her eyes went large and her face went blank. Studying the children quickly, she realised that her nephew was holding in his emotions, while the red haired boy looked down, and the girl let a few tears trickle down her cheek. Petunia closed the door swiftly and retreated down the hall.

Another agonizing silence passed through the room as they took in what they had just delivered...and how fresh the wound was.

It was getting late as it was, the dinner they had had was late in the first place and Harry decided to break the silence. “C'mon,” Harry said. “I'll take you there.”

“Kay,” Hermione pulled out her wand, adding another bed for Ron. “Um, let's go.”

With one significant look at Ron, she followed Harry outside the door. They were turned when closing the door and heard a sudden “Why, Hello,” that made them jump. They turned to face the owner of the voice, Dudley Dursley. Hermione stuck herself close to Harry, holding his arm in surprise.

“A girl in your room, Potter? A pretty girl? Why is she with you?”

“Shut up, Dudley,” Harry glared at him. Dudley gazed at her hungrily, which kind of feared Hermione as she slid her hand down Harry's arm to firmly grip his hand.

“You shouldn't waste your time with him, “Dudley said. “Not when I'm here.”

“Dudley...” She eyed him. “You certainly live up to your reputation. Come, Harry,” She pulled his hand, sensing his anger about to break to Dudley.

As Harry led her by the hand to the room, Dudley started to say, “If you are in there too long with her, I'll-” He was cut off by the slam of the guest room door behind him.

“Sorry about him,” Harry apologised.

Hermione shrugged. “He just creeped me out.”

Harry laughed. “Yeh, me too.”

She put her stuff down on the bed. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Harry smiled. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hermione smiled at him. He turned to walk away and she started to turn down the bed.

“Oh, Hermione?” Harry turned around, and she looked up. “I don't really trust my cousin. You might need some extra locking-”

“Way ahead of you, Harry,” She laughed.

“Good,” He grinned. “Night.”

“Night,” She said as he closed the door.

On his way through the hall, he heard a shout of goodbyes and the front door slam, Vernon and Dudley on the other side, leaving for an out of town boxing match. Back in his room he found Ron flipping through a Quidditch magazine.

“Hermione all set?” He asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, lying on his bed.

“Oh, well, I'm gonna go tell her goodnight.” As Ron left the room, Harry began to think about what was really going on in that room. Not that anything extreme would happen, but he was probably kissing her goodnight. That created an uneasy stir in Harry, not liking the idea of his two best friends like that. But then again, he felt guilty. He was supposed to think of Hermione as his best friend, like a sister...but they thoughts he had today were definitely un-sisterly. Harry now felt like he betrayed Ron by what he was thinking-or wanting. What was he saying?! Wanting! NO-this was Hermione, just his best friend. All his life. These thoughts were only a one time thing, when they were getting caught up washing the dishes. He didn't normally think of Hermione that way. Now was not the time to start.

A minute later, Ron came back through the door. “I'm hungry.”

Harry laughed. “Not surprised.”

“Got anything to eat?” Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, “Check under that floorboard there.”

Ron did as he was told and found a few cookies. “You don't mind if-”

“Just eat, Ron,” Harry said.

Ron scarfed down the cookies, and after about an hour of Quidditch talk, they were laying in their separate beds. Harry fell into an uneasy sleep and started in on a nightmare. Much the same as the ones he'd had all week.

Harry found himself stranded in a dark, foggy field, alone. He had no idea where he was; and when he spun around, he found the red streaming eyes of Voldemort staring back at him.

“You came, Potter,” Voldemort sneered.

Harry eyed Voldemort curiously, as he saw Bellatrix and Lucius dragging two beaten, torn, nearly lifeless bodies. A tear threatened to leave his eyes when he identified the two as his best friends. “Hermione...Ron,” he whispered.

“That's right, the mud blood and the blood traitor. I thought it would be tougher for you to watch them die in front of you,” Voldemort seemed pleased.

“No!” Harry screamed. “NO! No!” He exclaimed as loud as he could, trying got make it to Ron and Hermione, but almost found his feet rooted. He couldn't save them...

“Harry!” Someone shook him roughly. “Harry, mate, what's going on? You're screaming.”

Panting and sweating, Harry quickly sat up, reaching for hi glasses and put them on.

When Harry still neglected to respond, Ron looked around. “That's it. You're scaring me. I'm going to get Hermione-“

“No,” Harry's hand shot out to stop him. When Ron faced him in response, Harry ran his hand through his hair. “Don't wake her. It's nothing,” Harry shook his head.

“Was it a nightmare...from you-know-who?” Ron asked tentatively.

Harry sighed. “Yes, its...just fine...go back to sleep. I'm fine.”

Ron looked at him for a moment, as if he would protest, but shrugged. “Bloody fine with me. Just try not to scream again,” Ron joked.

Harry tired a small smile and threw himself back down, facing opposite of Ron. Only a few minutes later did Harry hear the loud snores of his best friend again.

About an hour later, Harry had memorized the breathing pattern of Ron sleeping. That was all he could hear anymore, lying awake in his bed. There was no falling back asleep now; every time he closed his eyes he saw the tattered bodies of Ron and Hermione flash in front of his eyes. He hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few days with almost the same nightmare. Every time he saw the almost dead bodies of people close to him, and now it was the two most important people in his life dangling lifelessly before his dreaming mind. And it was unnerving to have this anger seething through, but reminding himself it was only a dream, he tried to forget it. But what if it happened in real life? What if Voldemort got a hold of them-and Harry was unable to save them? He wanted so much to push them away, for maybe it would save them, but something in the back of his mind was selfishly holding onto them because, quite truthfully, he was bloody terrified to face things without the help of his friends. In a way, he needed them more than ever now. If only Dumbledore were still here, he thought. But Dumbledore was gone now, and he almost felt he had no one left.

~*~

Harry was not the only one lying awake in the house that night though. Petunia Dursley lay on the couch, the telly illuminating her face. Though she was not paying attention to the motion picture in front of her, but her tired eyes lay on the parlor clock, as the second hand ticked, making the most annoying sound.

He was dead, now. That's what Harry and his friends had just told her. Dumbledore was gone. Forever.

She may dislike Harry for what he represented, but she was not stupid. Dumbledore was the only one who was keeping them all safe. She had listened to him on that terrifying night, pretending to Vernon she wasn't.

Once Harry's birthday had come and passed, he would be gone. The wards the deceased Headmaster had put upon their home when she promised to take care of her sister's only son would go too. She had not fulfilled that promise to her greatest ability that much she knew. She let Vernon push him around and Dudley beat him up. But now, the fate of her nephew rested heavily in her heart. She had doubts whether he could make it on his own.

She had failed her sister. She had failed the fateful promise, and the only trace left of Lily, would be killed by the same evil being that had taken her sister away. Could she handle that?

A choked sob left her mouth as she brought her hand to her lips, letting out another muffled sob. The tears that sprang to her eyes were not held back, but let loose. She let the water gates break open and cried. She cried for the sake of her sister, and for Harry, and for herself.

What Petunia was unaware of was that Harry was lying awake in his own bed, thinking about the same things, while listening to the loud cries of his Aunt Petunia.

~*~

Some hours later, into the early morning, Harry still lies awake. This time he was thinking about last year. He had lost track of Ron and Hermione through it all. Something inside of him always wanted to stay away form them because they were always bickering. Hermione had strayed away from her normal self and involved herself in all of Ron's happenings with Lavender. He had felt so much anger towards the two of them. They hadn't listened; Harry felt they hadn't been there.

But alas, He needed them still. It annoyed him a bit that they were `together' now—would they still be ignorant toward his fear? Would they get caught up in themselves again?

The hours ticked by slowly, giving him plenty of time to mull over everything. Maybe a little too much time.

When the slightest hint of sunlight began to peak through the window, Harry noticed Hedwig dutifully perched on his window sill.

Dragging himself out of bed, he walked over, petting her taking the note from her claw. “What you got there, Hedwig?” he asked, quietly, trying not to wake Ron (as if he could).

Hedwig hooted and Harry smiled, rewarding the owl with a treat. He opened the letter and read:

Harry,

Meet us today for lunch and tea at Mrs. Figg's...got something important to talk about. Hope your doing well. Tell Ron and Hermione I said hello, of course they must come too.

Remus

Sighing, he set the letter aside and walked out of the room. He slowly tip-toed down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone. He noticed his Aunt lying on the couch, looking uncomfortable, dried tears, he could tell, were on her face. The telly still blasted through the parlor, until he turned it off and walked through the kitchen.

After breakfast, he looked out the window to discover a lot more sunlight shining through, and it made his unrested eyes burn even more. Wanting to avoid any confrontation, he headed back upstairs and accidentally ran into someone.

“O...” someone exclaimed as he ran into them.

He suddenly recognized the victim as he looked up. “Sorry, Hermione,” He helped her up. “I should pay more attention.”

She smiled. “Tits quite alright, Harry. You look tired...” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you sleep?” she asked.

“Yes,” He lied.

She examined him carefully. He refused to give in, and she finally conceded with a sigh. “You need your sleep.” She moved past him.

“I did,' He called, lying again.

She turned around and looked him dead in the eye. “You may be able to fool the rest of the world, but you can't fool me, Harry Potter.”

After their gaze held intensely for a moment, he finally turned and entered his room again. He could feel Hermione's eyes watching him.

So maybe he wasn't fooling her, she just knew him too well. Was that a bad thing?

He shook his head, knowing lately he'd been over thinking everything. For now, he needed to wake Ron. Harry could only imagine what the rest of this day would hold.

~*~

A/n: oh dear, be brutal! Did you like it? Be honest, please. I know its rough and it kinda sounds like another story but i did NOT Mean for that to happen and it wont happen again, I swear. Lol. Do you like it??! I'm nervous about this one.

I know a lot of you are frustrated about updating, but you must understand I have much going on. A lot of author's don't update that regularly, it's just that I used to update SO quickly but now... I'm behind. I will update all three: CC, LPB, and JV well, though, I swear. CC is almost done and being sent through my beta within a few days. After all, that ones almost wrapped up!

Well, do review.

And answer me this: Should I continue this? Or just abandon it?

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