Life is short, so keep on living.
I am J.K. Rowling, I am the cleverest woman alive, and I own everything affiliated with Harry Potter. Yea, I wish. I do not own Harry Potter, or ANYTHING in fact affiliated with him except, well the books… and the movies… and well… never mind, on with the story.
Coming to Terms
Chapter one
Fitting
Harry stared blankly at the ceiling of his room in number four privet drive. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, hours, maybe days, maybe weeks. Time slipped by, while thoughts slipped ruthlessly through his mind, most of which he ignored. Dumbledore is gone… Snape can't be trusted… The way Ginny Weasley's hair looked when the sun hit it just right…
Harry was jolted from his endless gloom by a rather large crash and a string of obscenities from down the stairs. Harry knew that the Dursleys were boarding the windows, and stocking up on food, because of some ridiculous bit that the Prime Minister was going on about some sort of epidemic, and how no one should be caught outside. Everyone was to 'stay inside, and answer the door to no one'. The idea was preposterous, and Harry knew that the Prime Minister knew that. No muggle lock would be able to stop even the weakest of wizards, Harry had a recurring mental image of a little witch girl merely glancing at one of the industrial size locks that the Dursleys had rushed out to buy, and it just springing open. The Dursleys, however, were now backing down from the vigor they showed towards their protection measures, and Harry knew why. In two days time Harry would turn seventeen, and would be of age, and when he was of age, they could chuck him out into the streets, and seal off their house from all intrusion.
Harry grumbled and rolled over on his bed, and stood to stretch, hearing his bones creak from their prolonged placidity. He found it a bit wearing that the Dursleys made a point of showing their eagerness to be rid of him, when he would love nothing more than to grab his trunk and blast out of their house, to leave and never have to see any one of his living relatives ever again. But things never worked out that simply for Harry, for the summer before one of Dumbledore's requests had been that Harry stayed in the house until he was of age, because of the ancient magic that protected him there, and Harry couldn't bring himself to break the last wish of some one that he had cared for so much. There was a shriek and another crash from down stairs, then he heard his uncle shout up the stair to him.
"Get down here boy!" Vernon snarled, and Harry rolled his eyes.
As he rounded the last corner to the living room, Harry's face broke into the first real smile in weeks. Standing in his living room, looking highly affronted and disheveled was Ronald Weasley, his best mate. From the looks of it, and Aunt Petunia's babbling about 'he just… poof, he was there…', Ron had apparated right into the living room while the Dursley's were moving boxes.
"Harry!" Ron said, sounding rather gracious, as he looked up and caught site of him.
"Hello Ron… so you've passed your apparition test then?" Harry grinned at him as he strode up to meet him.
"Well erm… not exact—" He was cut off by a loud 'pop' and another shriek from Aunt Petunia.
"Ronald Weasley!"
Harry looked around to see who had just apparated into the living room, and almost laughed aloud. Hermione Granger stood there, pink in the face, and apparently livid.
"Oh, hello Hermione, so nice of you to drop by…" Ron said, attempting a smile, but failing.
"Don't give me that Ron! I told you not to apparate, it's really dangerous, besides, you could have been caught, or splinched!" Hermione growled at him crossly.
"Well, I'm fine Hermione, besides, it's not like I haven't been apparating around all summer before you got to the burrow. No one else seems to be all bothered about it… well 'cept Mum…"
"Hi Hermione." Harry said, swallowing the laughter that kept rising in his throat.
"Hello Harry. Are you ready?"
Harry stared at her blankly. "Ready?"
"Yes, ready… didn't you get the letter that we sent?"
Harry continued to stare. "Um, no?"
Hermione sighed. "We assumed that you didn't write back because…" She glanced at Aunt Petunia who was swooning on the couch, "well never mind what we thought. Today is the fitting."
Harry felt dumber by the minute. "Fitting?"
"Yes Harry, fitting. You know, where you go and they size you up for clothes…" Hermione said in exasperation.
"I know what a fitting is, Hermione, but what is it for—"
"WHAT THE RUDDY HELL IS GOING ON?" Vernon bellowed as he fanned Petunia with a napkin to no avail.
"Oh, Please, Mr. Dursley, don't shout. It's, well, Harry's got to go to a fitting today for a wedding…" Hermione attempted to soothe Harry's savage uncle.
"DON'T TELL ME NOT TO SHOUT, THIS IS MY BLOODY HOUSE!" Vernon continued to shout.
"STOP SHOUTING, DURSLEY, OR YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO THIS!" This time it was Ron who was yelling, as he brandished his wand threateningly at Vernon.
"Ron!" Hermione scolded, pushing his wand down. "Don't do that! It's illegal, besides, they are obviously scared…"
"OUT! OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU FILTHY—" Vernon continued to mouth and brandish his fists, but no sounds escaped his throat.
"Ron!" Hermione yelled, rounding on him like a tiger. "How dare you cast a silencing charm on Mr. Dursley?"
"What? But I didn't… It wasn't…" Ron looked bewildered.
"Oh, honestly, you may as well not lie!" Hermione hissed, her hands in tight fists.
"Hermione, it wasn't him, it was me." Harry said evenly from where he stood by Ron.
"Harry, but you're not of age…"
"Well, it doesn't matter… the ministry can only detect magic, not who the spell caster is, so they won't know which of us it was, if they even notice with everything that's going on." Harry added, re-pocketing his wand.
Hermione continued to scowl at him, but Ron cut in before she could get a word in edgewise. "So, Harry, are you ready?"
"For the fitting? Not exactly, I didn't know about it until now…" He sighed, looking around the room, taking in his swooning aunt, his purple uncle and his cousin, Dudley, who was huddling in the corner.
"Harry, you go get ready or what have you, and I'll just… sort everything out here." Hermione commanded, pulling out her wand, and pointing it at Vernon, who incidentally stumbled backwards and fell on Petunia, who seemed to have found her senses, and screamed, causing Dudley to dart out of his corner, and dive under a table that was much too low to fit his large frame.
"Oh, honestly Mr. Dursley!" Hermione sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm trying to fix… if you keep running away this is going to take a very long time."
Harry chuckled. "Well, good luck, and I'll be right back."
Ten minutes and three memory modification spells later the three friends were walking out the front door of Number four privet drive. Harry and Ron were both grinning broadly, while Hermione looked vexed.
"I shouldn't have modified their memories…" she moaned, as they neared the end of the street.
"Sure you should have, what state would they be in if you hadn't?' Harry patted her on the shoulder.
"Yet, but it's illegal Harry, no one but an obliviator from the Ministry is supposed to modify memories!"
"Hermione, cool it. It's not a big deal, besides, Harry was right, they probably aren't even paying attention to things like that now adays anyway, what with the death eaters killing people left, right, and center…" Ron told her, half exasperated, half solemn.
Hermione sighed. "I've never done anything illegal though…"
"But Harry has, loads of times, and look at him, and look at Fred and George…"
"Yes, look at us, we are gorgeous, aren't we?"
Harry looked around to see the Weasley twins grinning at them, while they stood leaning against a flashy muggle sports car at the end of privet drive. They were dressed in an odd assortment of muggle clothing, and Harry had to fight to control a laugh that was pushing its way up his throat. Fred was wearing a pink ladies blouse, while George was almost as funny wearing high healed shoes and a cashmere scarf about his head.
"I was wondering where you two were already." Ron said, as he climbed into the backseat of the car, which was magically enlarged. "And George, why are you wearing the lady shoes again?"
George sighed and shrugged. "I like them, they make my legs look longer."
Harry snorted as he followed Ron into the car.
"Think I'm funny, then do you Harry?" George said, a bit offended.
"I thought that was your goal in life." Hermione rolled her eyes, getting into the car.
"What's that?"
"To be funny." Hermione told him.
"Hmm.. right you are Hermione." George shrugged again and got into the car as well. "Well, we're off then, all in?"
"Erm, where exactly are we going?" Harry asked, an uneasy feeling bubbling in his stomach, flashbacks of a purple warning packet that the Ministry issued leaping out at him 'Agree on security questions with close friends and family so as to detect Death Eaters masquerading by use of the Polyjuice Potion….'
"We told you, to the fitting."
"Yes, I've quite gotten that point, I mean, where is the fitting?"
"Oh, Hogsmeade, there's a little wedding shop, and that's where everyone's meeting." Hermione informed him, while she looked out the window. "George, I think that we've missed our turn…"
George looked around. "Right again Hermione, ah well, we'll just turn here instead…" He made two sharp turns to the left, then one more to the right. "Here we are. Everyone out."
Everyone piled out of the car, and once the doors were shut, Fred pointed his wand at it and said an incantation that Harry couldn't hear, shrinking it to the size of a children's toy car, at which point he picked it up and put it in his pocket. Meanwhile George was rummaging through a Dumpster with more and more vigorous movements. Finally, he stood back, and looked at them, dumbstruck.
"It's gone. The port key isn't here." He cast his eyes around the alley that they were now occupying, and his eyes stopped on a large pile of what appeared to be old towels, and he sighed. "This can't be happening."
Hermione looked over at that pile, and she too sighed. "Well, I suppose I should be the one to get it from him…" She walked over to the pile, and gently prodded it. With a tremendous grunt, it shuddered to life.
"Wha choo wanna go an do that fer? Poke me like that, while I was sleepin?" a squeaky voice emitted from the pile.
"Hello, sir? Sir?" Hermione said loudly and slowly to the man, who was still mumbling to himself, but appeared to be trying to go back to sleep.
"Wha? Leave me the bloody hell alone girl! This is me premises it is!"
"Oh, yes, yes, I know it is sir, but you have something of mine…"
"Whas that you said? Speak up!"
"Sir, you have something of mine." Hermione repeated, louder and slower this time.
"Balderdash! I ain't no thief I ain't! I might be called a lot of things, missy, but thief ain't one of them!"
"Thief? No, no that's not what I meant at all!" Hermione said, managing to keep her patience. "You see, my mother accidentally threw out my favorite blanket and—"
"See there, she threw it out, and that makes it mine! In me premises it musta been, if I'm the one that's got it then, girl."
"Yes, but I do miss it very much sir…"
The man stuck his head out of the rags, and looked Hermione up and down, and Harry saw his face clearly for the first time, it was knobby and lumpy, reminding him greatly of a garden gnome. "Well, by the looks of you, I can use it more!"
Hermione bit her lip, apparently getting very agitated with the man. "Well, I've got some where to be, and I really need—"
"So go then, don't want you to be late! I ain't gort noffin of yours, so leave me alone!" The man sunk back down into his cocoon of grime.
"Oh, that's it, give it here!" Hermione said threateningly.
"Well, lost that sweet disposition real quick like didn't you? Wort can I get for it, if I got this blanket your talking about?" He seemed interested again, peeking out at her.
"But, it's my blanket… oh what do you want?" Hermione sighed.
Quick as lightening the man's hand darted out and ran up Hermione's leg. "I'm sure that we can work somfin out…" Hermione looked outraged, but before she could do anything, a shot of purple light slipped around her, and hit the man's arm, causing large green boils to appear on his arm. The man screamed in agony. "Yeh've killed me, ooh, yeh've killed me you wench!"
"Oh, shut up." Hermione spat at him, then turned back to where the other's stood. "That wasn't necessary! Now, we'll have to obliviate his memory!" She looked more agitated still as she turned back to him.
"Obliviate? Yeh've already killed me! Help! HELP" the man started screaming his head off.
"Listen, you're going to give me my blanket, right now." Hermione snapped at him, while he continued to shout.
"Here, take you're ruddy blanket you prude!" With that the man peeled of a mud-caked strip of green cloth, which, in Harry's opinion, wasn't much of a blanket, and thrust it in Hermione's direction.
Hermione picked it up, and pulled out her wand, and pointed it at his arm, a soft blue light came out of the tip and encased his arm and when the light faded, the boils were gone. The man stared at his arm in astonishment.
"That's bloody… magic… witchcraft! You're a witch! Get away from me… help… HELP! HELP!" The man scuttled back against the wall.
"Oh, just… obliviate!" Hermione pointed her wand at his forehead, and his expression cleared. "Thank you for my blanket sir, you are such a kind and loving man. I wish you the best of luck."
"Right, bye sweet girl…" The man said wistfully, still staring blankly around.
Hermione turned and hurried back over to the others, glancing at her watch as she went. "It's almost time…" She said. "Everyone, c'mon gather around, gather around." She said, hold a tattered green 'blanket' out for every one to touch.
As soon as Harry's finger came in contact with the material, he felt the familiar tug behind his navel, and his feet left the ground. Moments later he was standing in front of a little shop called 'Lola's Wedding Occasion Shop'.
"Oh, I hate that." Ron mumbled, rubbing his navel. "Well, we better get inside, I bet Mum's freaking about how late we are…"
The five of them went into the shop, and were, as anyone could have predicted, accosted by Mrs. Weasley, who looked at them all skeptically in turn, and then, seeming satisfied in what she saw, turned back to Fleur, who was piled in white lacy robes that apparently needed to be fitted.
"Ouch! Lola, you have poked me with zee neeedles again!" Fleur exclaimed to the short woman with black hair who was opposite her, sticking pins in the dress. Fleur turned her head and saw the new arrivals. "Oh, 'arry! I wondered wezzer or not you all would make eet back in time for zee fitting! You are late!"
"Erm, sorry…" Harry said, but it wasn't necessary as Fleur had already gone on.
"…all zee girls are wearing gold dress robes, I really wanted pink, but wiz Geeny's 'air, eet was impossible. And zee boys are wearing maroon robes, zat was Bill's choice, something about Griffins or something of that sort. I beelieve that zee robes are over there, on that shelf, you guys get ze ones with the maroon color, and 'Ermione of course get the gold…"
Harry walked over and grabbed a set of robes off of the shelf and slipped it over his head, standing beside Ron who did the same.
"Gryffindor wedding… nice touch." Harry said, feeling hollowness in his stomach thinking about whether there would be a Gryffindor anymore, or a Hogwarts even.
"Yea, Bill got lucky, Fleur actually likes the colors and has no idea the significance." Ron grinned at him.
The short lady who was working on Fleur's robes had now moved over to Harry and was sticking pins in the outfit.
"Speaking of Bill, where is he?" Harry asked, frowning. "If fact, how is he?"
"Oh, well, He's in St. Mungo's right now, see, tonight is the first full moon since well… since the accident. They are going to keep him there to see what happens. Most of the healers think that nothing will happen, except maybe that he will be more wolfish perhaps. Bit like Lupin, you know?" Ron said.
"Oh, how are his wounds?"
"Well, they've mostly healed, except for one on his cheek that won't seem to go away, and the scars of course… Actually, Mum's been rather surprised, as Fleur has stepped up and done all of his care. She says that 'eet is 'er duty as his fiancée'" Ron sighed, looking at her whistfully.
"Ha, still not much better with her I see." Harry grinned, looking around. The sight that met his eyes made the smile slide off of his face. Ginny Weasley was walking out of the dressing rooms, wearing gold dress robes, with her hair pinned back. Harry's breath caught in his throat. She was more beautiful than he had ever seen her.
Ron snickered. "Still not much better with her either, I see." He grinned at Harry. "So what is up with you two any ways? She won't tell me one way or the other…"
With difficulty Harry pulled his eyes from Ginny, and back to Ron. "Um, what? She won't tell you what?"
"About you two, are you still with her?"
"Erm… it's more complicated than that I'm afraid."
"It always is with you." Ron grinned shaking his head.
"Take these off, and let me tailor them a bit, then go in the dressing rooms to try them on." The new voice made Harry jump, as he had forgotten that Lola was there.
Harry slipped his robe off slowly, trying to buy time as Ron was still looking at him imploringly. Finally when the robe was all the way off, and no more time to be bought, he continued. "I can't really risk it… not with Voldemort out for me, I can't put her in danger. So, I guess we can say that we are… erm friends for now, until things pan out…" Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair, watching Ginny looking in the mirror at her robes.
Over her shoulder, he watched her face wrinkle up as she scrutinized what she saw, then, suddenly, she looked up and their eyes met through the mirror. Harry meant to look away, to try to be modest as though he wasn't staring, but he couldn't. There was a power that he couldn't comprehend locking their eyes together. She smiled and turned around so that she was facing him, then walked over. Harry hadn't talked to her since the end of the term, and their last conversation hadn't been pleasant for him, or easy. When she finally got to him around all the shelves and racks and the various mannequins, she threw her arms around him. Harry's breath caught in his throat again, it was so surreal. He was holding her in his arms, she was still there, even though he knew he had to push her way, he couldn't. He wrapped his arms around her and simply didn't let go. A small voice argued with him in his head. You shouldn't be doing this you know. Yes, I know, but why shouldn't I? It's just a hug… Just a hug? Really, seems like a lot more to me… much more intimate. She's just a friend for now… a very close friend… I have lots of close friends, like Hermione… you don't hug Hermione like this. What does it matter if I give her a hug? What if some one looks in the windows and sees? Think of what problems that could cause her… Harry couldn't continue to argue with himself, he slowly let go of Ginny.
"So, erm, how has… how has your summer been, Ginny?" He asked thickly, running his hand through his hair.
Ginny's cheeks were flushed, but she smiled. "Oh, alright… I would ask you, but well, you've been at the Dursley's."
"Oh, yea… well, I've got to go try on my, um, robes…" Harry said awkwardly, taking the tailored robes back from Lola.
"Go ahead." Ginny said, smiling up at him.
"Right." Harry walked away from her, mentally kicking himself for his idiocy. He had acted the prat, and even with the knowledge that he was doing it, he couldn't stop.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………..…
Nearly an hour later the whole group was walking out of the wedding shop, bags in tow, heading for the three broomsticks for lunch. Harry couldn't help stealing glances at Ginny out of the corner of his eye as she talked with Fleur, a rather annoyed expression on her face. Once they had all entered the pub, and been seated by the temporary bar maid Julie (Rosmerta was on leave for a while, as she had spent nearly an entire year under the imperious curse), Fleur set out with more wedding plans.
"Oh, zere is much to do, still. Geeny, you and Gabrielle will be the flower girls, of course, and Fred and George, you are the ring bearers, Bill tried to say 'no, we only need one bearer', but I wouldn't 'ave it! I must have a pair! Ron, you are going to be 'Ermione's dance partner for zee formal dances, and 'Arry, you are, of course weeth Geeny. I 'eard you two say zat your girlfriends are coming…" Fleur had gone on talking now to Fred and George, but Harry wasn't listening.
This was all getting so difficult. It was bad enough to have to be around her at school and at the Burrow, but now he'd have to spend an entire reception at her side, which was great, but terrible all the same. Harry shook his head as he sipped his butter beer. Peter Parker had it right, with 'great power' comes great responsibility.
……………………………………………………………………………………….…
It was much past dusk when the twins dropped him off at the end of Privet Drive, and Harry began bracing him self as he walk down the street for the third degree he would get when he arrived at number four. He was going over the script he'd set for himself in his head when he heard it. Soft wooshing sounds behind him, getting closer and closer. Harry stopped walking, slowly reaching to his waist band for his wand. His heart was racing in his throat as his fingers closed around the strip of wood. Just as he turned to confront his follower, the sound of a mournful, hollow song reached Harry's ears, and he saw his predator. It was Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet Pheonix.
The magnificent red and gold bird landed gracefully on Harry's shoulder, dropping an envelope into his hands.
"What's this?" Harry asked, stroking the Pheonix absently as he turned the envelope over in his hands. His heart skipped a beat. There, on the front of the package was written:
To: Harry James Potter
Number Four Privet drive
The address wasn't odd, for Harry had become accustom to seeing this address, what really astonished Harry was what it said next.
In Correspondence with: Albus Dumbledore.
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A/n: Ah, a cliff hanger… what does that note say? Hmm, bet you wanna know, don't ya? Well, tune in next time folks and you'll find out. Now go review! Muaaaahhh!
Aimee
(If you see any grammatical errors or something that I have misinterpreted from the books, please let me know so that I can fix it, thanks.)