Disclaimer: Okay, obviously I don't own Harry Potter whatsoever! But I own my love for Harry and Hermione. GO HARMONY.
Author's Note: I wrote this story in hopes of doing a better job than JKR did. Well, in the department of romance and the non-destruction of Harry and Hermione's friendship. So I hope you all have a good read and review! :D Also, it follows the events that happened in the book. I just reworeded them.
Book Seven: The Deathly Hallows
By Hermione Potter
Chapter One
Detatching One's Self
Harry Potter lay in his hard-matted mattress, his glasses sitting beside him on the night table. He raised his hand above his pale and thin face, seemingly distracted by the poor wrapped hand that had blood bleeding through it. He turned over in bed, trying to seek comfort in the only place he had ever lived. The Dursleys. But it was one that he could never call home. A place that lacked the luster of what a true family home had and should have been.
There had been no other time where he had felt so lost. Though he could never admit that. Everyone expected Harry Potter to be brave. To be courageous. To rise above all and bring triumph. When in reality, he was lost. Things seemed to twist themselves into an intricate web of what seemed to be the life of Harry, danging by a thread.
He flexed his hand, wincing as he felt the deep cut that had chosen to continue to bleed. The cause was a shard of glass. Petunia had requested a cup of tea and had been too lazy to get up and fetch it for herself. In the midst of all the commotion, Harry had maintained his servant status within the Dursley home. But due to his thoughts concerning the death of Albus Dumbledore, the cup had fallen and made a large noise on the counter. Petunia had then proceeded to screech in her own matter and push him away from the kitchen.
From then, he managed to find one of his shirts that had grown to be too small for him and ripped the sleeve off, quickly bandaging the hand. He reached for his spectacles and sat up, remembering the day that he had been given Dudley's second bedroom. It was a glorious occasion. Hah. The window above his desk had faint rays of light coming from the sun. The room was dimly lit. His bed was in the corner of the bedroom while his dresser was in the other. Not that there was much to put in there anyways.
In the next corner rested a pile of things that he had not touched in a long time. Slowly, he got up and kneeled on the pale carpeting, reaching into the pile to pick up various quills and blank parchments. His hand quickly enclosed around a small black pin, the words, SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY flashing yellow and soon POTTER STINKS in red letters. He pushed aside the red robes that he wore during Quidditch matches. His mind was lost from the time that he had last played Quidditch. It was the only time he felt to be free. Other items that were piled up was a worn Sneakoscope, the gold locket that had been accompanied by a note signed R.A.B., and the jagged piece that glared in Harry's green eyes. It was a piece of the mirror that Sirius had given him. Gently hidden amongst the items.
He leaned back against the foot of the bed and picked up the piece of glass that had caused the injury in Harry's hand. It was clean, a faint smear of blood on one of the edges. He threw it on the worn desk and picked up the Daily Prophet that was resting on his bed. Skimming through it, he saw the obituary of Albus Dumbledore. He had read it over and over, regretting that he had never gotten to know the Headmaster. He had spent so much time trying to figure out his own life, when he knew nothing about the man who helped him for so many years.
He flipped the page and saw a photo of a woman, tight blond curls bouncing around her face, meek eyes that smirked through her spectacles, and her conniving smile. Rita Skeeter had been nothing but a person out to make herself look good. Throughout the article she had written, she had provided the lie of telling the media of Harry's relationship with Dumbledore as an unhealthy obsession.
"Damn that woman!" He shouted, ripping the paper to shreds, but not before carefully tearing out the obituary. He sighed and fell back fluidly on the bed. The heat the vibrated from the outside created sweat that he licked from his upper lip. The salty taste made him wince and let a second sigh escape his lips. The light that radiated from outside shone in his eyes as he tried to block it out, his arm over his face.
He looked into the small piece of the mirror once again and blinked as a flash of blue appeared. His eyes darted to the sickly peach color of his wall and turned back to the reflection. There had been nothing blue to reflect on. The only color was one of his green eyes. One thing was certain about this. There would be no chance of seeing Albus Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes again.
"Potter! Get down here!" Harry could hear his fairly large uncle bellowing from the floor below. A grunt escaped his lips as he hoisted himself up and placed the broken piece under his hard pillow, trudging down the stairs. Petunia and Dudley were sitting on the couch in front of the tele, watching the weatherman talk about the warm weather.
Harry turned to see Vernon in black slacks and a pale coral shirt. "Took you long enough! Sit!" He demanded, receiving a cough in reply from Petunia. He turned back to Harry, gritting his teeth.
"Please." Harry blinked, odded by his polite word. He made his way over to the couch and sat down, making sure to be away from Petunia and Dudley.
"Now I've thought it over and I have decided that this hocus pocus that you are talking about is just a hoax to take this house," Vernon explained, eating a cup of pudding.
"A hoax?! You have to be kidding me! Why would I want this house? A place where I never called home. My godfather left me his house. I don't have any need for this one. I explained to you that once I turn 17, all of you will be unprotected. The protection charm on this house will disappear and you'll be vulnerable to Voldemort. Surprisingly, he thinks that if he were to kidnap all of you and torture you, I would come," He exclaimed, clearly outraged.
Vernon stood, his spoon hanging from his mouth, perplexed. "Now, you hear boy-"
"No, you hear! My 'kind' is going to hunt you down if you don't move. If you want to stay here, fine. But that's on your own accord, don't say I didn't warn you." Harry told them, his eyes blazing before he turned his back.
"No-Now just wait a minute. You claim that this Lord thingy-"
"Voldemort. And it isn't a claim. It's true. I've explained this to you practically everyday. Dumbledore told you. Kingsley told you. Mr. Weasley told you. Practically everyone who knows something about magic told you something!" He corrected.
"Don't you say the M word in this house." Vernon warned. Harry stood there, his hand running through his unruly black hair that could have used a good combing. Not that it would have done much justice.
"What about that-that Minstry of Magic," He dared to use the M word. How noble of him.
Harry snorted. "The Order thinks that it's been infiltrated. The Death Eaters AKA the evil side have persuaded the Ministry by any means necessary. Obviously it won't be safe. The Order is the only thing that can keep you safe."
"You think we're just going to vamoose? Just drop everything to go into some kind of Witness Protection? I have a job! What about Dudley's schooling? What about the furniture? What about the food?" Vernon growled.
Another snort escaped Harry's lips."You stay here, you won't have to worry about that."
"Dad, I'm taking his advice," Dudley's first words during that conference. Three pairs of eyes turned to him.
Harry beamed at him. He knew that if Dudley decided something, his parents would agree no matter what. "They'll be here in five minutes. Take what you will. Carry light." Harry instructed, quickly making his footsteps heard as he ran up the stairs to gather his things. He would finally be able to say goodbye to this place for good.
Quickly he rummaged through his materials and took what he thought he would need, stuffing them into a rucksack that he had conveniently found in the bottom of his dresser. Throwing it over his shoulder, he looked at Hedwig and smiled for once that day. "We're getting out of here. And soon, you won't have to be in this cage," Tossing a few owl pellets in, he came downstairs to greet a ring at the door.
Harry hesitated before opening the door and greeted by Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones. "Mr. Potter! Hello! So nice to meet you!" Dedalus smiled, shaking his hand. Harry gave a faint smile and nodded to both of them before turning back to the Dursleys. It would have been too much to let them handle the Dursleys.
"I'll just help you with them," He told Hestia and Dedalus.
Hestia threw back a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. "We're on a tight schedule. But why not?"
"Well if we hurry, we can make it just in time," Dedalus smiled, flipping open his pocket watch.
"We have to leave before you do. Since it would be highly dangerous to do magic inside your house, it would be better if we have the Muggle way of getting out. Tell me, do you know how to drive?" He quested Vernon, pocketing his watch.
"Well of course I know how to drive!" Vernon blurted, clearly appalled that he would even be asked this question.
"Lucky! I'd be quite gob smacked by all those lights and buttons!" He chuckled.
"Can't even drive," Vernon muttered.
Luckily Hestia nor Dedalus heard. "We'll drive 10 miles and from that destination, we'll apparate to a safe location. So, ready are we?" Hestia exclaimed, putting her hands on her belt.
"Yes. Come along Duddy-kins," Petunia cooed, coaxing him by his shoulders. But he would not budge.
"What about him? Isn't he coming along?" Dudley asked, pointing at Harry.
"Of course not! Why would he be seeing as you are all well protected?" Hestia asked, a furrowed brow.
"Well, why isn't he?" He asked again.
"Because he doesn't want to! Right boy? He's off with his 'lot'." Vernon asked, looking at Harry with a large eye.
"His 'lot'? What is that sup-" Hestia was cut off by Harry.
"They don't know anything about what I've done. So don't bother explaining. I'm nothing but a spec of dust. Waste of space." Harry shrugged, silencing Hestia from saying anything else to make the situation worst.
"I never thought you were a waste of space." Dudley suddenly said. That was the nicest thing that had ever come out of his mouth.
Harry looked dumbstruck. "Uh, thanks Dudley."
"Well then! We've got about two minutes before we're behind of schedule. Better hurry," Dedalus interrupted, stepping outside.
"Right! Let's be off then," Vernon said, walking out with a word to Harry. There was no surprise there.
"See ya, Harry." Dudley said awkwardly, zipping up his black leather jacket and popping up the collar.
"Yeah. Take care, Big D," Harry worked up a smile and was nearly taken back when he saw a faint smile on Dudley's large face.
As Dudley walked out, Harry turned to Aunt Petunia, expecting her to leave in the same way as Vernon did. "Good bye." She said softly, a hit of regret in her voice that didn't go past Harry.
"Good bye," He replied, watching her go out, casting Harry another glance.
Harry looked back at the empty house. It looked the same as it did as always. The TV was on. The kitchen lights were on. The refrigerator door was open, a pudding package on the floor. Realization had hit Harry. He would never have to clean here again. He walked over to the stairs and picked up Hedwig's cage, giving it a last sweep around the house. "Last time we'll ever be here, girl. Take a good look. Because it'll all be in the past."
Suddenly, he could hear a large engine flaring from outside, causing a roar to ripple through the house. It had been completely silent before. Through the curtains of the door, he could see car lights flaring inside and soon there were footsteps coming closer.
Harry blinked and walked to the kitchen door, cautiously lifting up the curtain. Dark figures began to appear as if they were under the Disillusionment Charm. Harry could tell that one of them was Hagrid, his overbearing body a sign. He let out a relieved sigh and opened the door to be caught off guard by a mess of brown hair hurdling into his chest. It was Hermione.
"Oh Harry," she breathed, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck, in fear that if she had let go that he would suddenly disappear. He let out a shaky breath and hugged her back, breathing in the scent he knew to be Hermione. In the midst of all the chaos, he had forgotten about his two best friends.
Ron stood behind her, grinning. "Hey mate." Harry greeted him with a wave since Hermione had decided to keep her arms around him. He looked down at her big ball of hair, one arm still around her waist. Hagrid came to the door, a jolly look on his face. "Almot ready ther' Harry?"
"Definitely," he reassured, feeling Hermione detach herself from him. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and realized that her eyes were puffy and red. He didn't question it then. There would be time to ask questions later.
"Happy to get out, huh Harry?" Ron chuckled.
"I couldn't begin to explain Ron. I could not begin." Harry replied.
Author's Note: How was it? Second chapter coming soon!