DEAR PADFOOT,
Chapter I
Getting out of Here
"This is unbelievable!" ranted Ginny.
"It's all right, really -" responded Harry.
"To make you do that stuff!"
"It's not like it's the first time -"
"Can't they see you're not up to doing chores?"
"I'm not weak, Ginny -"
"Even though we did the exact same thing yesterday!"
"The grass and weeds do grow every day -"
"On your birthday!"
"I - it's my birthday already? Time really does fly," Harry said, confused.
Ginny laughed bitterly. "For you, maybe. I bet this is your best summer ever!" The words were out before she could stop herself, and she instantly regretted it. Harry's downcast look did nothing to improve her mood. "It is, isn't it?" she asked, hating herself for reminding him that her life was so much better than his.
Harry turned to look at Hedwig's empty cage and nodded. "I'm sorry you're not enjoying yourself."
Like so often that summer, Ginny was taken aback by Harry's nobility. Leave it to Harry to care more for Ginny than for himself, to want her to be happy without wanting the same for himself. "Gosh, Harry, that's not the point. The point is you're not enjoying yourself either. And you're not getting better."
"I'm not weak, Ginny."
"I know you're not weak," Ginny said for the umpteenth time, "but right now you're not exactly fit either, are you?"
After the events in the Chamber of Secrets, Madam Pomfrey argued against Harry returning to Privet Drive for the summer, on the basis of his need for continued magical care. Dumbledore, unwilling to risk the dissolution of the blood protection Harry's aunt's dwelling provided, was adamant that he return to recharge the blood magic. The solution was for a responsible underage wizard or witch to take care of him while he recovered, as anyone of age would be repelled by the wards if they stayed too long.
Ginny was the underage witch of choice, because she also needed to recover from the events of the past school year - mentally rather than physically. Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore agreed that the reciprocity between Harry and Ginny would be mutually beneficial for their recovery.
Ginny, of course, immediately volunteered for the task, which was to be expected since she owed him an enormous debt of gratitude - a life debt, actually. And not to be overlooked was the entire guilt pit she had succumbed to when the chances of Harry's survival were slimmest.
Mrs Weasley had been less easy to convince. Her natural reflex was to take her daughter home, to her family, for the summer, so she could recover amidst those that loved her most - those that she loved most. However, after seeing her daughter's distress and undivided attention to Harry, days on end, as he lay unconscious in the Hospital Wing, she slowly came to the conclusion that Ginny cared about Harry almost as much as Molly did about her own daughter. In the end, she agreed to let her daughter go home with Harry, conceding the point that the best way for Ginny to get better was to make sure he got better.
"I know you hate those potions," Ginny elaborated, "and I wish you didn't need to take them, but they really do make you better. Madam Pomfrey only has your best interest at heart, you know."
"I know. I just wish my best interest didn't taste so bad. And I wish I could just ... walk up the stairs in less than a minute, or stand up suddenly without getting all dizzy. I wish I didn't have to sleep fourteen hours a day," Harry said, sounding genuinely exhausted even though they'd just woken up.
"I don't wish any of those things on you, Harry, but the only way you're ever going to get better is to accept it - for the time being. Wishing isn't going to help, and moping is just going to get me moody."
"You're right. We should start on getting breakfast ready. Aunt Petunia said she was going to wake Dudley and Uncle Vernon right after her shower."
Harry made to get out of his bed (Ginny was sleeping in a magically inflatable four-poster positioned by the window), but Ginny stopped him. "Nice try, Harry." She handed him his potion with a wry smile.
"Do I really have to?" Harry pleaded.
"Yes," Ginny replied, bored with having the same conversation every day, three times a day. "Why do you even bother asking? It's not like I'm ever going to give in."
"One day you might."
"You saved my life, Harry! The least I can do is make sure you get better.."
Harry downed the potion quickly and handed the empty bottle to Ginny, who put it in the bag. They were to meet Madam Pomfrey that evening as they had met her seven days ago. She would check on Harry and supply Ginny with a new dose of potions. Their contact was limited to once every week; any more than that and Madam Pomfrey would be repelled by the protection around the house.
Harry made to get out of bed. Ginny quickly stood up and offered him her hand to steady him, but he resolutely refused her help (as she knew he would).
When they reached the kitchen downstairs, Ginny turned on her complain engine again as she started laying out plates and cutlery. Harry was content to listen. "You know, we really shouldn't be cooking both breakfast and dinner, next to all the other chores we do; especially since Dudley is doing nothing and stuffs his mouth every chance he gets! And look at you you're barely able to hold a frying pan for more than a minute -"
"I'm not weak, Ginny -"
Ginny stomped her foot for emphasis as she continued her tirade. "And you need your rest more than anything! To make matters worse, they won't even let you have full servings!"
"You know you don't have to help out with the chores if you don't want to," Harry said, restarting the never ending argument.
"Wrong. You're too proud to skip any chores the Dursleys give you - why, I'll never know - and both Madam Pomfrey and my mom will have my ears for dinner if I let you do them on your own in this state."
Harry couldn't deny that if it hadn't been for Ginny the past couple of weeks, he would never have finished his mountain of chores in time to placate the Dursleys. Nevertheless, he felt horrible for imposing his miserable summer on Ginny.
A short time later, the three Dursleys sat in various states of morning-grumpiness. After the scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages were done, Harry distributed them across the five laid out plates and then sat. Ginny started scooping egg and bacon from Dudley's plate to Harry's, effectively evening them out.
"What do you think you are doing?" barked Uncle Vernon.
"Harry is having a full serving," Ginny replied in an ice cold voice. "If Dudley wants more than one, he is free to fry some more bacon and eggs."
"Dudley is a growing boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon.
"I'll fry some more," said Harry, scooting back to stand up.
"SIT!" roared Ginny, fixing a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from standing up. She rounded on Uncle Vernon and smiled sweetly. "Harry is recovering from a life-threatening injury. His nutrition is every bit as important as Dudley's."
"How - dare - you -" spluttered Uncle Vernon. He turned to Harry in rage and said in an ominously low voice, "Oh, you are going to pay, boy, for forcing her onto us. Oh, yes, you're going to wish you had never been born."
"Ginny," Harry pleaded, "just make some more food for Dudley, okay? Please?"
"No, Harry. I'm not someone's slave, and neither are you. And if Dudley really wants more than that, which I doubt, then he's free to use the kitchen himself. There is no problem that we are responsible for, so we shouldn't have to fix it."
"Let's see how I feel after this serving," Dudley said, surprising everybody by defusing a potentially hazardous situation.
The tension in the house had increased steadily since Harry and Ginny had arrived. The pattern was always the same: Ginny would refuse to work like a slave and would even more adamantly refuse to let Harry work like one; Harry would try to placate everyone, and the Dursleys would refuse to accept the change in the status quo. In the end, the Dursleys would give in out of fear of Ginny's dragon taming brother. However, that did nothing to dissolve their continued anger. Ginny, also, was getting more and more enraged by the Dursleys' behavior toward Harry.
The chance that anyone from Ginny's family was going to come to their aid, though, was very small as they were all on vacation in Egypt. Harry and Ginny agreed, however, that if things really spiraled out of control, they would summon Hagrid, who would be delighted to put things right.
"We need to leave," Ginny declared to Madam Pomfrey that evening in the nearby park. "I can't stand it there. It's not good for me, it's not good for them and it sure as Hell is not good for Harry."
"Calm down, Miss Weasley," replied Madam Pomfrey as she received the bag of empty potion bottles and handed Ginny a new one full of lighter-dose potions.
"I can't calm down! Everywhere Harry goes, he is reminded that he is a freak, that he needs to more diligently polish their shoes. They make him do so many chores that, if I didn't help him, he'd be busy on it right from waking till going to bed! I thought you agreed he needed rest!"
"Hey, I'm standing right here," Harry protested.
"I'm afraid the professor was very specific," Madam Pomfrey replied, referring to professor Dumbledore. "Harry needs to spend the summer at home in order to recharge the blood magic."
"What about last year? Ron and the twins came to pick him up right after his birthday, and did the wards fall? No, because then we wouldn't have to be here at all right now! Anyway, what purpose do the wards serve? They supposedly protect him, but do they protect him from his own relatives? What Harry needs right now is a stable environment where he isn't required to work himself to death - an environment where he can rest."
"I shall relay your concerns to the headmaster," Madam Pomfrey routinely responded. "For now, why don't you concentrate on your letters?" She handed Harry and Ginny their Hogwarts letters. "Harry, you're recovering slowly, but steadily. If all goes well, you'll be your old self by the time term starts again."
"It'll take that long?" Harry whined, and Ginny couldn't really blame him.
Madam Pomfrey chuckled. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Well, I think it's time for me to leave. I will see you in one week's time. Good day."
"Remember," Ginny said softly but nonetheless clearly. "If things go too far, we're leaving. You can relay that to your sacred headmaster."
Madam Pomfrey merely nodded and Disapparated.
Harry turned back towards the road leading to Privet Drive. He lost his balance and might have fallen, if it wasn't for Ginny who caught his elbow to steady him just in time.
Harry proudly pried his elbow from Ginny's grasp. "I can walk, Ginny."
"Good boy."
When they arrived back at number four, (and after finishing an arbitrarily issued chore: cleaning the toilets - for the seventh time in four days) Harry and Ginny retired to his room for the evening. The arrival of Hedwig, Errol and another, unknown bird might have brightened Harry and Ginny's moods, if only they weren't marred by the barging of Uncle Vernon into the room, bringing some bad news.
"Aunt Marge? I - Wha- When?" Harry spluttered.
"Tomorrow morning," replied Uncle Vernon in a low, angry tone, "and I expect you to behave yourself, boy. No mention of your freakishness, no funny business, no hurting Snuggers and no hanky-panky. You will stick to the story that you - you and her - are going to St Brutus's Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys and Girls, or else you will rue the day you were born, boy. Is that clear?" Without waiting for a reply, Uncle Vernon left and slammed the door after him.
Harry listened in shock to Uncle Vernon's heavy steps going down the stairs before turning to Ginny. "I - you need to go, Ginny."
Ginny observed him curiously for a few seconds before asking, "Why?"
With a determined tone of voice, Harry stated, "Because."
Ginny rolled her eyes before replying, "Because is not a reason!"
"Aunt Marge, she's - I - you just can't be here ... not when she is."
Ginny had a feeling why he didn't want her to be there. Harry had been most vocal in opposition when he learned that it was arranged for Ginny to spend the summer with him at the Dursleys'. In the end he had given in, but Ginny thought she realized the reason for his reluctance.
"She's as bad as the Dursleys are, isn't she?" She knew she was right when he looked away and sighed. "And you don't want me to see how she treats you, do you?"
"Well, not exactly," Harry admitted. "It's ... I ..."
"You don't want her to treat me the same way?" Ginny's face softened as Harry gave her a pained nod. "Oh, Harry," she sighed as she leaned forward and pulled Harry into a hug. "I'm not going anywhere without you," she whispered into his ear. "You didn't give up on me; I won't give up on you."
***
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BAD EGG?" shouted Ginny on the last evening of Marge's visit. Aunt Marge had been getting steadily more and more drunk and, as a result, more and more under Harry's and Ginny's skin. Memorizing the broomstick servicing kit manual was gradually losing its ability to keep their anger under control and the power of Uncle Vernon's promise to sign Harry's Hogsmeade permission slip was also rapidly waning. "Lily Potter was a brave woman!"
"Whohoha! Lookey here," replied Aunt Marge, "someone's obviously prouder than they should be of someone who was an absolute shame to humanity. Tell me, girl, did you even know Petunia's sister?"
Ginny was about to reply, but stopped abruptly, because Harry mumbled something to her left.
"Ginny, just let it go." Harry looked utterly woebegone: in his anger, his entire face was red. His eyes were fighting to stay open and he had huge dark bags under them. Ginny could have kicked herself for forgetting about him. That woman was just so ... infuriating.
"Harry, are you okay?"
"Just a little ... tired, 's all."
"It's way past ten! You need to get to bed. Come on." She got up and pulled Harry, who meekly complied, out of his chair.
"Oh, no you don't." Aunt Marge's firm grip had found Ginny's shoulder. "You need some setting straight"
"Let - go!" Ginny said as she struggled to get free. At last her teeth had found Aunt Marge's hand and drawn blood.
"Why, you little -"
What happened next occurred so quickly Ginny's mind was boggled. She heard the smack and felt the corresponding pain in her left cheek, caused by Marge's right hand. The next thing she knew, Aunt Marge was propelled backwards by some invisible force, ejected through the window, and deposited in an undignified heap in the back yard. Before she could enjoy the well-deserved sight, she heard Harry gasp and slump next to her - he had fainted.
She was just in time to catch him. She put him down and sat beside him. She produced her wand from her sleeve and cast the spell Madam Pomfrey had taught her just before she left Hogwarts.
"Re-ennervate. Shit!" Harry's shoulders spasmed, but he didn't wake up. "Re-ennervate!"
This time it worked. Harry woke and gasped for air. After quickly taking in his surroundings, his eyes focused on Ginny.
"Get up, Harry. We're getting out of here."