Disclamier: Well, it's like all disclaimers. I don't own Harry Potter. This is my story, my fanfiction. Nothing more and nothing less.
Author's Note: I'm not too sure what I'm going to do. But, with all the crazy ideas running through my head, this is going to be a big story. Anyways, I probably should explain some stuff about the title. A little werid ne? I just always seem to think of those stupid little stones in the middle of the pavement... they tend to send a person flying if they are wearing rollerblades or are on scooters. VERY annoying. So, as a respect to those stupid, annoying, pesky, irritable little stones, we have "Tripping Stones" for a title. Yea I know, I'm werid. Thanks for thinking it. .
Meeting the Cleaner:
It was another hot, summer day at Private Drive. Harry had spent the majority of it, so
far, stuck in his room. Conditions at the Dusely's had taken a turn for the good. It seemed now
that Uncle Vernon was too scared to yell at Harry as much as he would like to in the case that
Harry would tell Mad-Eye. Aunt Petunia seemed very intimidated too. The idea of having the
kind of party that greeted Harry from the Hogwarts Express walking up her garden path was too
much for her to stand. Thus, Harry was forced to talk to Mr. Weasley (or anybody at
headquarters) every three days. Even with the threat from Mad-Eye, Vernon still didn't allow
Harry to use Hedwig.
Harry flopped onto his back with his head hanging over the side of his bed. It had been
several months since the episode at the Department of Mysteries. It was months since Harry saw
his godfather die. Every night he would visit the Death Room. Every night he would relive his
godfather's strange death. It seemed that if Harry could just pull back that curtain, he would find
Sirius. That idea seemed to be so real, so possible to Harry at first. But, after brooding over it
for this long, after his talk with Dumbledore and Nick, he knew he was gone. This fact, however,
didn't fill the deep hole that once belonged to Sirius in his heart.
Harry was getting bored. It was only a matter of time before the Order members would
come to pick him up. Hogwarts would start soon and didn't everyone promise to get him out of
this place as soon as they could? Harry sat up and walked down to the living room. Dudley was
there, watching the television, as usual. With the new found talent in boxing, Dudley's five chins
had now reduced to three. Aunt Petunia stormed into the room.
"Where is that girl? I told her-" But before she could finsh her sentence, the door bell
rang. "Well, it's about time! I have places to go! Get in, get in," said Aunt Petunia ushering
someone in when she opened the door.
"Um... hello. I'm the cleaner. My name is-" began a very pretty girl as she walked
behind Aunt Petunia with buckets and mops and other cleaning assortments.
"Yes yes, I know who you are. I want everything clean by the time I get back," order
Petunia while messing with her purse. "Dudders, it's time to go dear. Vernon! Are you ready?"
she called upstairs. Uncle Vernon came pounding down, trying to tie his tie. Harry saw the girl's
eyes grow large as she saw both Vernon and Dudley side by side.
"What's going on?" said Harry. Petunia shot him a look of loath.
"We are going to a midday supper invitation. You are going to stay here and not get in
the cleaner's way. Got it boy?" said Uncle Vernon, his large face turning red. He leaned in
closer to Harry so that their faces were only inches apart.
"And no funny business, got it? Don't you be sending that bloody bird to your friends.
You got that boy?" Harry glared at Uncle Vernon, his temper already rising.
"I'll do whatever I want," retorted Harry, his fists clenched. He was in no mood for this.
"Don't you strike that tone with me! We were the-" Vernon's face was turning purple
with rage.
"Let's go Vernon, I don't want to be late." Vernon gave Harry a glare of rage before he
turned around and hurried out of the door. Harry could hear the car pull out with the tires rolling
against the gravel.
"Er.... I'm going to start in the kitchen if you don't mind...." said the girl after an
awkward silence in which they both noted each other's existence. Harry felt his face grow hot.
She had a nice body, long-brown hair tied at the back, and bright blue eyes. She was very pretty
in Harry's opinion.
"Oh! Yea sure.... go ahead," said Harry. She smiled.
"That way is the kitchen right?" she pointed to the door leading toward the kitchen.
"Yeah." She smiled and headed toward the kitchen door, clanking loudly with buckets
and mops.
"Er... do you need any help?" asked Harry offering his hand. "I mean...er. I don't have
anything else to do. Um..." The cleaner giggled.
"Well, shouldn't you have gone with your parents?" Harry chocked, his temper
beginning to boil suddenly.
"Those people are not my parents!" he shouted. As soon as he did, he suddenly realized
that he shouldn't have. The girl quickly averted her gaze and backed away.
"Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't mean- I made a mistake." Harry's face was turning bright red.
Why had he just yelled at her? Like she would have known.
"Er... look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I'm just... er-"
"No, I'm sorry. I-I understand. I'll just get back to my job..." The kitchen door swung
closed as the girl walked in, leaving Harry to feel like an idiot. This is just what he needed. He
walked through the kitchen door.
"Um... look. We got off to a bad start. How about we start over? My name is Harry
Potter," said Harry quickly. He held out his hand. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at
him. But finally, the girl put down her buckets and grasped his hand cautiously.
"Helen Keats," she said with a an awkward smile. It looked like she expected Harry to
explode at any moment. Harry's stomach did a flip when she grasped his hand.
"S-so Helen, how a-about my offer?" asked Harry very unsure of himself. He was sure he
was bright red. "You could get done sooner..."
"Um..." Harry could tell that she wasn't very keen on the idea. But to his surprise,
"Sure."
cleaning. Harry was laughing and having a good time. He, Harry Potter, was actually enjoying
his time at Private Drive. Helen told Harry that she had just moved in a couple of streets down
from America. She and her sister were now living with their grandparents. Her parents were
very busy people and not home that much.
"But I know they love me. Mom and Dad always tell me that they do. They are just
trying to support the family right now," said Helen. Harry felt a twinge.
"Oh... well that's good."
BANG
The Dursley's were home.
"We're home. Miss Keats, are you done with the house? Miss Keats?" shouted Petunia.
Helen quickly stood up.
"I'm coming Mrs. Dursley. Just need to collect my things," said Helen down the hall.
Harry looked down from the top of the stairs to see Uncle Vernon looking dangerously up at him.
He had a bit of food on the corner of his mouth....
"Excuse me..." said Helen, making her way down the stairs, past Harry.
"I hope he wasn't much of a nuisance," said Uncle Vernon, giving Harry a glare.
"Oh no! He was-"
"Wonderful job my dear!" said Aunt Petunia as she walked in from the kitchen.
"Everything is perfect, just the way I would have done it. Vernon, please pay her so she can be
on her way," said Petunia in a pompous sense of authority that made Harry cringe. Helen turned
bright red as Uncle Vernon found his wallet and payed her handsomely.
"Thank you sir," said Helen excepting the money and pocketing it. She collected her
things and headed out the door.
"Wait!" Harry said suddenly. Vernon and Petunia looked at him suspiciously.
"Yeah?" asked Helen turning around. Harry's felt his face flush again.
"Le'me help you to your house. You have a lot of stuff to carry..." Harry took a bucket
and mop from her hand. "I'll be back in a few minutes," said Harry quickly as he began to shut
the door. But, Vernon's foot caught it.
"Now you see here boy-" Vernon's eyes were flickering dangerously.
"I'll be bak in a few minutes," Harry said through grinding teeth. His temper was rising
again. Vernon's face turned purple with rage, his beady eyes locked on Harry's. But, Vernon let
go and Harry slammed the door shut.
"So, which way is your house?" said Harry as casually as he could, pretending nothing
had just happened. Helen gave him a cautious look, but pointed the way toward her house.
For the beginning of the walk, Harry felt too nervous to say anything to Helen. He
figured she felt the same way, because she didn't say anything either.
"Um... thanks Harry. I did need some help..." said Helen quietly.
"Oh! Yeah. No problem. Anything to get out of that house."
"Oh..." Helen sounded disappointed. Harry flushed. That wasn't really what he meant.
Well, it was, but it wasn't.
"I mean...erm." There was one of those awkward silences.
"Say Harry."
"Yeah."
"I know that this is a kinda weird question but... erm... do you mind hanging out with me
sometime? I don't have a lot of friends you see. You seem different than the rest of the stuck up
kids I've met. I just...Oh! I'm so stupid!" Helen turned away, her face bright red. She began to
pound her way down the street, buckets clanking loudly.
"Hey! Hey Helen!" called Harry, racing to keep up with her.
"Sure," said Harry. Helen stopped.
"What?"
"Sure. To be honest, don't have many friends around here either..."
"Oh! Well... thanks Harry. Um... this is my house. See you tomorrow?" She took to
bucket from his hand and opened the door.
"Yeah. Sure, see you tomorrow."
"At the park?"
"Sure. Ten good?"
"Ten's great. Bye Harry."
"Bye... Helen." Harry stuck his hands in his pocket and began his walk home. With a
friend around, life at the Dursley's wouldn't be as horrible. Plus, Helen was pretty.
Harry opened the front door to the Dursley's and was bombarded in a heated argument.
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" screamed Uncle Vernon in a rage.
"Now you see here you great oaf of a muggle! We aren't leaving until we have Harry!"
shouted Mad-Eye Moody looking sinister as ever. Also in the room, Harry spotted Tonks, Mr.
and Mrs. Weasley, and Lupin.
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