Chapter
1
Harry awoke the next morning to the sounds of shouts and
doors slamming downstairs. He rolled onto his side, looked out the window, and
then squinted at the sad little wall clock he had nicked from Dudley's room
after his stupid cousin had gotten a new digital alarm clock/radio. Harry saw
that is was only 7a.m., and couldn't for the life of him figure out why they
were packing up the car in their Sunday best at so obscene an hour, but after a
moment he found that he couldn't be bothered to care. Since he was up anyway,
he pulled on his jeans and crept downstairs. Not wanting to be heard, he
started to tiptoe, but as luck would have it he fell down the last couple of
steps, landing, quite unfortunately, at the feet of his uncle Vernon. His face
turned a very familiar shade of purple as he began to yell, “Stupid boy! Every
time I turn around he's making another ruddy mess! Get off your arse, boy,
stand when I'm speaking to you, show some bloody respect!”
At that moment, Petunia came out to
the hall from the kitchen and said pleasantly to her husband, “Vernon, dear, we
really must be going. Check-in begins at 11.”
She
turned to Harry, narrowed her eyes, and said “we'll be back in two days. I've
left crackers and such in the pantry; you're to stay in your room between
mealtimes. Don't touch anything. No television, no phone, no bloody
owls... and for heaven's sake, boy stay the hell away from the windows. Lord
only knows what the neighbors must think of us, already, keeping you in our
home...”And with that, she threw her purse strap over her shoulder and walked
out the door, Vernon and Dudley following closely behind. Harry, still rooted
to his spot by the steps, followed them with his eyes until the car was out of
the driveway, up the street, and... gone.
He could hardly believe his luck.
Two glorious days without the Prat Family (as he had taken to calling them),
and he definitely didn't plan to be there when they returned. He
repeated to himself the number he had memorized the night before, and went straight
to the phone (Petunia and her bloody rules could go to hell, for all he cared)
and gave Hermione's house a ring. After the second ring, she herself answered,
which was not at all uncommon for a witch teenage years. Harry smiled to
himself when she answered, quite groggily, “'ello?”
“Hey
Hermione, it's Harry.”
“Hi!...
er, you do know that it is only a quarter past 7 in the morning, right?”
“...yeah...”
“oh,
OK, then...so what's the verdict?”
“Well,
the Prat Fam--”
“--Harry!
That's not nice!”
“er,
right, sorry. The Dursleys have just left home for the next couple of days, so
I can come. Just let me know where to meet you--”
“--nevermind
that, Harry. Oh, I'm just so glad that you can come! I mean, obviously, I'd
have gotten your things for you had you not been allowed, but, I'm still glad I
get to see you before start of term or Hogwarts Express or whatever...”
She was rambling, and Harry knew it.
Fortunately for her, though, He took it as a good sign, not a display of
foolishness on her part.
“--so
anyway, Harry, there's really no need for you to meet me anywhere, we'll just
come pick you up, in maybe an hour or so...”
So Harry gave Hermione directions to
Privet Drive, they chatted pleasantly for a few minutes, and then Hermione said
“ok, then, so we'll be 'round to pick you up soon then.”
“...er,
we, who, like you and your parents, or...”
“yes
of course, me and my parents, honestly Harry,” she giggled.
“Oh.
Right. Well then, I'll see you soon.”
“See
you!”
'Well', Harry thought, 'that
certainly went well. Grinning from ear to ear, he raced back up the stairs,
stumbling slightly on the step where he had fallen before, and burst into his
room. He threw almost everything he owned into his trunk, gathering books from
under his bed, robes wrinkled on the bottom of his wardrobe, and finally the
secret box of mementos. Checking his pockets for the essentials (wand, wallet,
glasses case, and mints—hey, you never know!), her set off for once again for
the front hall, this time dragging his trunk and Hedwig's cage behind him.
Almost as if on cue, Hedwig flew into the window in the front room. Harry set
his things by the door, ran into the bathroom, and almost slammed the door on
Hedwig, who looked quite pissed off (for an owl) as a result.
“Sorry
girl, didn't mean to. It's just, she'll be here in like half an hour, and MY
FUCKIN HAIR WON'T STAY FLAT! I'M ABOUT TO HEX THIS SHIT INTO OBLIV--”
And
at this, Hedwig flew forward and promptly bit Harry's nose for his harshness.
“Lovely.
Bloody brilliant. Crazy hair, AND a bleeding nose. Perrrrfect.”
So
Harry gave up on his hair, cleaned up his nose, and jumped into the shower.
A few minutes later, freshly
showered, shaven, cologned, and clothed, Harry returned to the front room. He
decided to put on the TV (ha, Petunia, kiss my arse) to calm his nerves. And of
course, a few minutes later, he dozed off to the sounds of MTV-UK, Hedwig
sleeping peacefully on his shoulder, apparently having forgiven him for their
prior argument.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mr and Mrs. Granger were at the
front of Hermione's mom's big, blue station wagon, Hermione squished in the
back with her things. For what seemed like the fiftieth time, Mrs. Granger was
making sure that Hermione had remembered everything.
“Toothbrush?”
“Yes.”
“Floss?”
“Yes.”
“Mouthwash?”
“Yes.”
Hermione's
mother, alarmingly, started to stage-whisper something about 'sanitary napkins'
when, thankfully, they arrived at Number Four, Privet Drive. She didn't even
wait for the car to stop before jumping out and running up the walk, hair
flying behind her. She waited on the porch until she had caught her breath—she
didn't want Harry to think she had run to see him (although she had)-- and then
rang the doorbell. She stood there smoothing her skirt and checking her hair
for the inevitable frizz ('damn, it's August, nothing I can do about it').
After a minute or two, she went to the front window to see what was taking him
so long. She found Harry napping on the couch, Hedwig sleeping sweetly on top
of him. She really couldn't help but stare. He looked so... good... hair
flying all over the place in the breeze of the open window, that familiar scar
pointing to his brilliant green eyes, which she could almost see through his
eyelids, she knew them so well. She finally grabbed her wand out of her pocket
('I knew this would come in handy, magic or not') and prodded him awake.
He opened his eyes, and looked
toward the window. Confused, he squinted past the streaming sunlight until his
eyes came into focus. For a moment, they both just looked at each other,
obviously having looked forward to this reunion for the better part of the
summer holiday. Hermione swore she could see the same look in his eyes that she
knew she must have in her own, but the thought was just too overwhelming. She
shook herself out of it, and pointed at the front door. It took him a second,
but then he jumped up, nearly overturning the coffee table in the process, and
ran to the door. Upon opening it, he was immediately greeted by a friendly honk
and a wave from the Grangers, as well as a hug from Hermione.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry pulled her close, breathing in
the scent of her beautiful wavy hair, and held her until her parents started to
look suspicious. Hermione then pulled away and held him at arm's length, and
practically whispered, “Feels like forever ago, doesn't it, Harry?”
He
nodded, unable to say anything right then, and motioned toward his stuff.
“Right,
then, we should get going. I'll take Hedwig's cage, and you can pull the trunk.
Do you need to leave a note or anything for the Dursleys?”
“Nah,
the Prat Family'll figure I was kidnapped or something. They'll be pleased.”
“Harry!”
Hermione scolded mildly.
“What?!
You don't know how horrible they are. Truly insufferable people, Hermione...”
And for a moment, the demonic grin was replaced with a slow, sad smile. He
really did hate them. The way they treated him... the way they spoke of the
wizarding world... the way they spoke of his mum and dad...
“Harry,”
Hermione said gently, “we should go. Lord only knows what my parents'll think
we're up to in here... ick!”
Harry
raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Why ick? You know you want some o'
this!”
“Oy,
you're such a guy, Harry,” Hermione laughed, only half joking.
“Yeah...
ugh this place sucks, thanks for being my escape.”
And with that, they gathered Harry's
things and walked out the door. And that was to be the last Harry would ever
see of Number Four, Privet Drive.
| Previous Chapter |