Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: based on popular demand, this is going to turn into a multichapter story!

Chapter II: Privet Drive Musings

Hermione had held Harry in a really tight grip at Platform Nine and Three Quarters after they had disembarked from the train. He wasn't sure if his head felt lighter at the end of the kiss, but Hermione seemed to just float away towards her parents after they parted - after, of course, profuse promises to see him before the summer was out.

His uncle had not appeared yet, so Ron hung back for the much needed private conversation he expected, following the fiasco that we saw happen earlier.

"What was that?"

His tone was changed, strangely high - quite unusual for Ron, Harry thought.

"What was what?"

"Don't play dumb, Harry."

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry."

"So?"

"That night changed me Ron. Almost dying, again, puts things into perspective," Harry explained himself as simply as he could. "Hermione means too much for words to me. I didn't know what to tell her."

"And what about me, don't I mean anything?"

Much like our readers, Harry groaned inwardly. Ron's jealously was legendary.

"Of course you do, Ron. You're the only friend I would trust with my life."

"Doesn't Hermione do that, now?" There was that hint of bitterness that threatened to get stronger.

"I trust her with my heart, Ron."

That response stopped whatever Ron was going to say next, dead in its tracks. His mouth opened, closed, and he pondered the answer for a few seconds.

"That - that makes sense." He was still processing the thought. "Where do we stand, then?"

"Nothing has changed between us, mate," Harry sought to reassure him.

"I'm still going to take a while to get used to this, you know," Ron pointed out. "There might be the odd jealous fit, too."

"I would expect nothing less from you, Ron," Harry said - meaning to be lighthearted, but the note of seriousness got through anyway.

"I care about her a lot, too," Ron admitted, looking down. "I guess, until today, I fancied the thought too."

"You'll get your shot," Harry said. "There's plenty of girls out of you in Hogwarts!"

"Yeh, I haven't thought about any, honesty. Guess I better start."

"You gonna be ok, mate?"

"Eventually," Ron gave him a somewhat hollow smile. "I fancy her too, you know."

Harry couldn't help but look sheepish. "If I knew before, I'd probably do something to help you, but it just came over me, you know?"

"Yeah, like when I get jealous," Ron said neutrally. "I know."

"I'm glad you understand, Ron."

"Where's that boy - "

The familiar annoyance of Vernon Dursley's booming voice carried over to Harry.

"Well, there's your cue," Ron told him sarcastically. "See you when I see you at the Burrow?"

"Tell your family hello for me," Harry told him. "My uncle doesn't like me to linger."

"Your luck is amazing, mate," Ron sighed. "I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," Harry nodded resolutely. "Later."

"Hurry up, boy!"

Uncle Vernon was rapidly gaining the red shade that predicated an explosion, and for Harry, having to put up with spit flying in his face. This time, seemingly, was no exception.

"Hi, Uncle Vernon," Harry greeted his kin mechanically.

"Today's is Dudley's boxing match, so hurry up, you runt, I don't want to miss it!"

Harry lifted his trunk into the trunk of the car and put in Hedwig in her cage, before he made for the passenger side seat.

"Sit in the back!"

Some things never change, Harry thought to himself. He obeyed to avoid angering one Vernon Dursley further.

"How is aunt Petunia?" he asked conversationally when they had left the platform.

His uncle glared at him in the mirror - surprisingly, it remained unaffected from the anger in his eyes.

"Fine."

The curt response signalled the end to that exchange, and the rest of the trip passed in an awkward silence.

The perfectly trimmed and arranged neighbourhood was just how Harry had remembered it from last summer. The peculiar lady with the binoculars, three houses down from the Dursley abode, seemed fixed to the inside window sill of her living room permanently. Although, her head did move as Uncle Vernon drove by.

The trunk was summarily unloaded. "Upstairs in the bedroom, quickly!" Uncle Vernon hissed.

Aunt Petunia was bustling around in her surgically clean kitchen, seemingly too preoccupied to greet her nephew. There was no trace of Dudley either - he had to be out with his usual gang of thugs. This time, Harry felt thoroughly depressed. Any glimmer of hope he had that coming back would not be as bad as years past, was quickly extinguished.

"We are going to call you down for supper," Uncle Vernon told him obnoxiously.

"Yessir." All resolve was gone in Harry's voice. He dragged his trunk upstairs.

"Don't destroy my stairs!"

The bed creaked loudly as Harry threw himself on it. In the corner, a pile of Dudley's old toys remained, but he paid them no attention. The accumulated dust told him nobody had been up here in a while. Even the dust he kicked up from the tattered blanket.

Hedwig looked at him inquiringly and cooed.

"And keep that damned owl silent!"

"You got any other ideas?"

Promising that he would write Hermione as soon as he arrived home, he stood up and took out a piece of parchment from his trunk. The quills, however, were too buried and he found an old pen in one of the desk drawers.

Dear Hermione,

I've arrived safe and sound. Ron and I had a talk about...you and me, at the station after you left, and he seemed alright with us doing - I'm not exactly sure what it is we're doing yet, but it's definitely something.

The Dursleys are being their usual pain, so there isn't anything new here. I want out of here as soon as I can. Maybe I can hope for a motorcycle rescue again. In the meanwhile, I'm stuck in my old hovel of a bedroom - that is, Dudley's old toy storage. He's out again somewhere, probably beating up another little girl for her candy.

I don't know if I love you, or know what love is, but I think I love you. I don't know.

Yours,

Harry.

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