The Summer Everything Changed
Chapter 1
Hermione had never been a fan of flying on a broom. In addition to its allusions to the storybook witches of her childhood, it was just not practical. Who wanted to carry around a broom? It was difficult to transport anything while flying and you were exposed to all of the elements. Yes, Hermione had a several practical reasons for not wanting to fly a broom. But somewhere, buried so deeply that even she had a hard time remembering, was the true reason she was not a fan of brooms.
Hermione liked control. Plans were comforting, analyzing all possible situations and their outcomes before jumping headfirst into a situation (unlike some wizards she knew). But you couldn't learn how to fly from reading a book, it required letting intuition take over and learning as you went – or so she had been told. No, flying was just something Hermione was fine with not mastering. Especially not when there were so many faster and more practical methods of transport.
So when Hermione started dreaming about soaring through the night sky with Hogwarts Castle well below her, she was surprised to find that rather than being frightened, it was exhilarating. This was the third night in a row she had this dream. It wasn't too difficult to figure out where the images had come from, as she actually had flown through the sky above Hogwarts at night – just not on a broom. But she always woke up slightly disoriented, expecting maroon curtains hanging from her bed posts. Instead, the soft sunlight entering the room lit up the wall-to-ceiling bookshelves overflowing with titles like "The Algebra of Geometry" and "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4". Hermione had returned home for the summer following the end of her third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and it was the ending of that year that led to the dreams that had carried on all summer long. In a few short days, she would be returning to the place where she, Hermione Granger, had broken not only one, but two wizarding laws in order to rescue the escaped criminal Sirius Black. It was year that threw into sharp relief Hermione's unwavering faith in those with authority. She had learned that Sirius was indeed innocent of his supposed crimes, had never received anything resembling a trial, and instead was immediately sentenced to life in Azkaban. She had also learned that money and your family pedigree spoke volumes in the wizarding world. Slowly, her dreams of a world led by the logical and practicality of individuals who earned their positions based on merit were crumbling down around her.
The past year wasn't a complete disaster though by any means. That night, she had overcome her fear of getting into trouble to help her best friend rescue one of the last remaining links to his parents. Sirius Black, condemned for the murder of twelve muggles and the betrayal of Lily and James Potter, was not only innocent, he was Harry's godfather. And what an adventure that night was. Looking back, she still shivered when she remembered how close they were to losing it all. But they hadn't; Sirius and Buckbeak had escaped death, the true betrayer was revealed, and most importantly, Harry finally had someone to consider family.
Rolling over away from the sun, Hermione smiled as she settled back in to return to sleep. Yes, breaking a few rules had been completely worth it.
In Little Whinging, a less-peaceful, yet still typically, morning was taking place.
"Oi! Boy! Get your lazy arse out of bed and down into the kitchen. If you aren't down here before Dudley, you are going to have to answer to me instead of your aunt this morning!"
Sighing, Harry shook off the last vestiges of sleep as he rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock resting beside his bed. '7:45,' he thought to himself. 'Well, at least that's better than yesterday…' Harry's sleep schedule this summer was determined entirely by Dudley's. This summer, Aunt Petunia, in a fit of stubbornness, had enrolled Dudley in summer classes. Of course, it's not as if he needed them, but as Uncle Vernon said, it was what people of their stature should do – prepare for the real world where slackers failed and good, productive people succeeded. No one deemed it pertinent that Dudley had just barely passed his studies this year, and advancement to the next level would be based on his success in these summer classes. So instead, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings saw "Dudders" off bright and early to his "enrichment classes", as Aunt Petunia called them.
This suited Harry just fine. By 8:30am, Uncle Vernon had left for work, and Aunt Petunia had left to drop Dudley off, and then run errands until it was time to pick him up. What on Earth she did to fill three hours was beyond him, but he would certainly not complain! Before she left, Aunt Petunia would leave a list of chores that "must be completed by our return, or else!" But chores were nothing new to Harry – he kept the garden and lawn in such great shape and Aunt Petunia's kitchen spotless, so it rarely took him more than an hour to complete the entire list. Once finished, he found himself actually allowing himself to relax.
"Did you hear me?" Uncle Vernon's voice bellowed up the stairs.
"Be right there, Uncle Vernon!" Running a hand through his permanently messy hair, Harry stood and grabbed the shirt closest to him. Making sure there was nothing "unnatural" about the shirt, he threw it on and headed out the door and down the stairs. 'Definitely do not want a repeat of last week.' The golden snitches flying across his shirt had not gone over well. Just thinking about it made his shins twinge remembering Uncle Vernon's foot introducing itself – repeatedly.
Entering the kitchen, Harry was greeted with a grunt of acknowledgement from Uncle Vernon (he was surprised he got that much), and a terse nod from Aunt Petunia. Not bothering to respond, he went straight to work frying up the usually kippers and eggs for Uncle Vernon and Dudley and slicing the fruit for Aunt Petunia. With the exception of the fruit, the food was gone moments after hitting the table. Dudley had sauntered in moments after Harry, demanding to hear the results from last evening's football match. As Uncle Vernon and Dudley debated who had truly deserved to win ("Those refs just really have it in for Manchester. I tell you, you just cannot trust anyone these days. They're all in somebody else's pocket!" insisted Uncle Vernon), Aunt Petunia toiled away at her fruit, occasionally adding a new chore or two to Harry's list while commenting that he really must be more careful while washing the dishes, it would not do to have anything left on them. Finally, all three had stood up from the table and were making their way to the door.
"Now nothing funny better happen while we're gone, boy. You make sure to get all of those chores done, or you won't be sitting for a week to make up for it." Nodding his head, Harry ignored Uncle Vernon's threats, as usual. As the door shut, Harry surveyed his work. The kitchen was spotless, all crumbs from under the table had been swept up, and the dishes put away. Grabbing the plate of food he had siphoned away, he headed back up to his room where he could eat in peace.
"Good morning, Hedwig! I brought you some food," he sang, walking into his room looking around for the beautiful white owl. He expected to see her on her perch, where he had left her, but was surprised to instead find her on his desk, locked in a staring contest with an owl as black as she was white. "Hello, there. Now who sent you…" Breaking eye contact, the coal-black owl turned toward Harry before puffing his chest out and sticking out his leg with the letter attached. Harry untied the letter before handing the owl one of his sausages. Hedwig, hooting in glee that she had won, flew to Harry's shoulder nuzzling his cheek before nipping his ear affectionately. His breakfast forgotten, Harry moved to his bed to read the letter. The handwriting looked familiar, but he couldn't think of anyone who would send him a letter this heavy. The greeting gave it all away. Finally, after over a month with no communication, Harry had a letter from his godfather. His recently discovered, escaped-from-wrongful-imprisonment, best friend to his parents, real-life godfather. Family – something Harry had been craving for as long as he could remember.
Hey Prongslet!
I hope this letter finds you well! It's been a while since we were last in touch, so I figured I should make up for it somehow. But before I forget, let me introduce my newest friend – Hensley. He's the big, proud owl who delivered this letter for me. He and Beaky have become quite taken with each other, so I have a feeling he will be sticking around for a while. And who knows, maybe he'll enjoy having a "lady friend" like Hedwig? ::wink wink::
But on to more important business, there is a more important reason as to why this letter is thicker than usual. I really have been enjoying my summer of freedom. After leaving Hogwarts, Buckbeak and I took off to find warmer pastures, so to speak. Our travels found us first to some islands in Italy, then we made our way to Greece, and believe it or not we have returned to Britain. I promise you, I am completely hidden and safe. I met up with our dear friend Moony, who kindly made a trip to some muggle store called a suppermartet (or something like that, I was always rubbish at remembering everything Lily tried to teach us about the muggle world) and got bought me a hair-changing potion. I thought a simple glamour charm would be easier, but he insisted this would be more permanent. Either way, I'm now a blonde! Not white-blonde like that pompous arse Malfoy, but more like a summery version of my gorgeous self.
But enough about me, how about you? Enjoying your holiday with the muggles? I'm sorry I missed your birthday! You'll know soon why I couldn't be in touch.
Love,
Padfoot
P.S. It's great to know that the Marauder's motto has been passed on to future generations
Concerned, Harry set down the letter and turned to the black owl that seemed to be watching his every move. "So, Hensley, is it? I suppose you're waiting for my reply." The owl let out a soft hoot, but didn't move from his spot on the desk. Taking that as a yes, Harry turned back to the letter. 'Something's missing here. What isn't he saying?' Then, as if a light had turned on, Harry realized that there truly was something that Sirius was leaving out. Reaching under his pillow, Harry grabbed his wand and touched it to the letter, muttering, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Immediately, the letters across the parchment began rearranging, forming a new message.
Hey Pup, glad you figured it out.
After coming back to Britain and meeting up with Moony, we started talking about your life thus far and piecing together things that both of us had been told by Lily and James. And to be honest, pup, I'm not liking what I'm seeing. We both think that something's up – Moony mentioned a conversation he had with you when seemed starved for any information about your parents. Stories, facts, anything. It stands out to us because you should have a whole stockpile of letters from them. We've both seen them, heck we were even there when they were writing some of them. Your parents knew it was a definite possibility that you might grow up without one (or both) of them, and they wanted to make sure you at least felt like you knew them. They told us that these letters, along with several other personal items, were to be given to you immediately following the execution of their will. You do have these things, right?
There are a couple more inconsistencies we're concerned about, but it would be better if we talked about them in person rather than through letters. Can you sneak away from the muggles without being missed? Or should we come to you? Let us know!
And again, sorry about missing your birthday, but I couldn't take the risk of letting certain individuals know that I was back in the country. We aren't sure how deep this goes – better to be safe than sorry!
I'm here with Moony now – we both miss you, and hope you aren't too miserable. Looking forward to seeing you. Also, just in case, return this to the original message as soon as you're done reading it. We can't be too careful.
Love,
Padfoot and Moony
"Well that didn't clear up much," muttered Harry before quickly following directions and reverting the message back to its original form. 'What are these letters I'm supposed to have? Did they get destroyed that night along with the house?' Not much had ever been shared with Harry about the details of that night. Hagrid had told him little, saying the house had been in ruins when he had come to take Harry away. But now that he thought about it, no one ever mentioned the house in Godric's Hallow. Had everything really been destroyed, like Hagrid had said? Or had it fallen into disrepair after losing its residents? Lost in thought, Harry had no idea how much time had passed until he heard a car door slam shut immediately underneath his window. Standing up, he looked out to see Aunt Petunia and Dudley making their way to the front door. Looking at his calendar marking the days until his return to Hogwarts (only one short week left), Harry quickly grabbed the parchment marking his spot in Quidditch through the Ages before scribbling a return message. Handing the message to Henley, he waited until he heard the front door open and close before instructing Henley to take his response straight to Sirius.
"Well Hedwig, luckily it's Monday. I only have to wait two days to see Sirius and Professor Lupin and hear what they have to say." Grabbing his book, and giving Hedwig the last of his leftover breakfast, Harry set off for an afternoon of evading his cousin, all the while trying not to think too much about the note Sirius had sent him.
Dinner that night had actually been enjoyable – on Harry's end. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had returned home, something had seemed off. Normally Aunt Petunia came in gushing with praise for her Diddykins until reaching the kitchen, when her beady eyes made sure that everything was exactly as she wanted. But this time, she didn't even comment on the "sub-par" cleaning capabilities Harry possessed. In fact, she ignored him completely. And while this normally wouldn't be any cause for concern, he had been so engrossed in his book that he hadn't had enough time to move from Uncle Vernon's favorite chair before Aunt Petunia had entered the door and walked right past the living room where he was seated. Not wishing to take any chances, Harry decided to go for a walk instead of waiting around for the eventual blow up. But it never happened. That is, until dinner.
Uncle Vernon and Dudley sat down to their favorite meal of roast beef and potatoes – which took Harry almost two hours to prepare, including dessert – none the wiser to Aunt Petunia's strange behavior. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched carefully as she would open her mouth to talk, only to close it, shaking her head. Finally, near the end of Dudley's third helping, she seemed to gather enough courage to actually say something.
"Vernon, there is something that we should discuss," she began. Without waiting for a response, she dove in head first. "Today, when I went to pick Dudley up from school, his professor was waiting outside with him, requesting that I bring this letter home and share it with you." For the first time, Harry noticed the letter clutched in her left hand. One could tell that it had been folded and unfolded several times already. "This letter," she said, holding it up, "is a request that both you and I meet with Dudley's professor and principal as soon as possible regarding his…lack of progress at school."
A shrug of his shoulders was the only indication that Uncle Vernon had heard a word she said. Dudley, on the other hand, had turned bright red and decided to mollify himself by taking a fourth helping of potatoes and gravy. Aunt Petunia looked between the two of them before straightening herself up and, seeming to come to terms with an inner battle, removed both Dudley and Uncle Vernon's plates from them, mid bite. Harry's jaw dropped.
"Petunia! What are you doing. It's probably nothing, I'm sure Dudley has just forgotten to turn in a few homework assignments or something of the sort. He's a young lad and it's nearing the end of summer. I still don't understand why he had to take these classes, anyway. It's probably all just a misunderstanding that you will get sorted out in no time." He reached for his plate, but Aunt Petunia just pulled it closer to her.
"Vernon, this is the last week of classes. This is not a simple matter of a few forgotten homework's. According to this letter, Dudley has not completed a single assignment, and has failed the majority of exams. This is a meeting to determine whether or not Dudley will be remaining in the school in general, not merely whether he will be moving on to the next year or not."
Aunt Petunia turned her attention to Dudley, who had slowly slipped down into his chair during this explanation, almost as if he was trying to melt into the floor. "Dudley has continually lied to us this summer, and we have let him get away with it. Dudley, you are grounded until further notice. You will continue to go to these classes, but will return to your room immediately afterwards. No telly, no computer, and no video games. And there will be no arguing. Vernon, I have already called your secretary and had your Wednesday afternoon cleared. We will be meeting with the school at 2pm on Wednesday. And Dudley, you will be coming too."
Standing up, Aunt Petunia walked over to the kitchen sink carrying her, Dudley, and Uncle Vernon's plates and dropped them in, ignoring the clatter as they jostled each other. Without another word to anyone, she strode out of the kitchen, presumably headed upstairs. Uncle Vernon, Dudley, and Harry all remained frozen, no one sure that what had just happened was real. Not only had Aunt Petunia reprimanded both of them, she had taken away their still-full plates of food, grounded Dudley for the first time ever, and practically demanded that Uncle Vernon accompany her to this meeting.
Harry was the first to wake up. And before Dudley or Uncle Vernon decided to turn on him, he was out of the kitchen and upstairs. Grabbing some parchment and a quill, he scribbled a quick note to Sirius.
Sirius-
Come to the house on Wednesday at 2pm. The house will be empty. Meet me out back.
Harry
I will be doing my best to update this story as frequently as possible, and I appreciate any and all feedback! The relationships will progress slowly at first, just as a warning.