Disclaimer: Just so you all know I don't own Harry Potter, the books or movies. There will be a lot that will be referenced from them so that I can use plenty of facts to support the story as I write it. I will be taking lots of liberties with the story and this plotline is not even close to the original. I would also like to give early credit to the fans whose theories inspired parts of my story. I follow a fan theory's blog on Tumblr, and there were a lot of really wonderful theories there that really do make sense. And that I find completely mind blowing. Though I will not be specifying which ones I will be using just yet, I do encourage you all to look through them and follow that blog because it's wonderful.
A/N: Wise English Professors once told me, the art of writing is in the rewriting. It takes time and effort to take scribbles and squiggles on a page, and turn them into entire worlds. Just as it is impossible to learn how to read overnight; it is impossible to be born a great writer. In honor of the only two people in the world that have renewed my vigor for writing. Here is one more rewrite for the books; and so we begin chapter number two.
P.S. I know that Harry's Birthday is actually on the 31st of July, but for the sake of my story his birthday is now July 17th. Which would give him exactly two weeks to spend with Hermione in Diagon Alley at the Leaky Caldron after he turns 13. Hermione's birthday will remain on September 19th, and she is nearly 14.
P.P.S. This chapter turned out to be a bit of a hefty read. So if you don't have enough time to read what totals to 20 word document pages; then I suggest setting it aside for now.
Chapter two: Book lists, Disagreements, and Secrets
The package contained two wrapped presents of almost equal size and weight, a birthday card, and a letter. Anxious to hear from Hermione, Harry snatched up her letter tearing it open.
Dear Harry,
Ron wrote me about the unfortunate phone call between him and your boorish uncle. I do hope he didn't cause too much trouble for you, and that you're alright. Though I am sorry it had to happen at your expense I would've delighted at the chance to have been there to witness Ronald's attempt at utilizing a perfectly muggle-worthy thing.
I would've been in contact sooner, even with Ronald's earnest implication against it; but my family and I are on holiday in France at the moment. Sadly my efforts to convince my parents to purchase a wizard post owl for our family, have thus far been thwarted; therefore I was unable to mail you regularly this summer.
In truth, I didn't even know how I was going to send these presents to you. I just kept thinking what if they checked it in customs! How does one explain these contents to full grown muggles without exposing the entire wizarding community? You don't! That is not without looking tremendously bonkers. I presume this is the reason we wizards use owls, or other magical methods of communication and transportation. One can always trust that an owl won't go sticking their beaks into the business of their owners, that is so long as there aren't any owl treats inside.
- Harry chortled to himself as he pictured Hermione sitting before him rambling as she was. Exactly how she did every time she grew nervous. He could see her clearly in his mind's eye; biting the tip of her eraser as she contemplated starting over -for what was sure to be the hundredth time- once she realized that she had prattled on again. -
Then by some miracle Hedwig turned up! She must have really wanted to be sure you got something for your birthday for a change, or at least I think that's why she flew all the way here.
I perceive that you're probably mad at me for sending two presents, but I just couldn't decide which to send you so I had to send both! One of your presents I procured by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I've been getting it delivered, it's a great way to keep up on everything that's happening in the Wizarding world.). The second present I'll leave as a surprise altogether, but I am hopeful you'll enjoy it.
Did Ron send you that picture of him and his family in Egypt from a week ago? He said he would, but I just had to ask. I'm just so jealous, the ancient Egyptians are just fascinating, I bet he's learning loads! - On second thought knowing Ron, he's probably more interested in the food than the knowledge there. Though I've been doing a bit of my own local research here in France. It's very interesting how a lot of ancient France's witchcraft had a lot to do with love. I've even rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've learned here. I hope it's not too long though it's a whole two parchment papers more than what Professor Bins asked for.
Ron said he'll be back in London for the last week of the holidays, and I'll probably be back sometime this week. I wanted to get a headstart on my readings for this year, so I convinced my mum and dad to let me come back before them and stay at the Leaky Caldron.
Will you be able to make it?
If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September 1st!
With Love,
Hermione
P.S. Ron says Percy's Head boy this year. I bet Percy is thrilled with the news, though Ron didn't seem particularly pleased. Something about having to already listen to him at home, and not wanting to be bothered with it at school.
Nearly in stitches, Harry set her letter aside plucking one of the presents off his lap. He admired the beautiful red wrapping as the gift instantly grew ten times in size and weight. Harry, once again astonished by the wonders of magic, marveled at the gift both with a begrudging impatiens; and an unwillingness to ruin the beautifully implemented wrappings.
He weighed it in his hands; making guesses at what it could be hiding inside. 'Knowing Hermione' Harry thought. 'It's probably a large book; that's full of spells.' Typically she would highly recommend 'a bit of light reading' over the summer holidays and he knew that Hermione's definition of "light" meant very difficult spells. A book that would generally be unusual to see in the hands of a thirteen year old. But not unusual for Hermione.
His head was abuzz with the images of her as she read each page; envisioning the way she would frough her brow in concentration as she scoured thought every spell hundreds of times. Certain that if this were a book, then Hermione had already committed each spell to memory; and she meant for him to read it in its entirety before the end of the holidays. Both to challenge him and give him an edge during their next school term.
Shaking his head Harry recalled their spring term at hogwarts last year, where Hermione had insisted that regardless of the impending parel of the chamber of secrets; their professors wouldn't lax on their studies. She had even gone as far to accurately predict what specific spells, and potions they would spend extensive time on. He knew this particular unruly haired girl, with an unnaturally brilliant head on her shoulders; had a knack for predicting the up-in-coming semester's core curriculum.
Irregardless of his musings Harry's heart still gave a mountainous bound as he finally tore into the wrappings. Sure enough, it was a book; though it wasn't just any treatise. This distinct publication was on the Origins of French Witchcraft. A book that Hermione no doubt really would expect him to have read by the time they were on the Hogwarts train. Though not nearly as excited as Hermione would have been, should she had been the one who was gifted a book for her birthday; he still fully appreciated the way she thought of him. Knowing that for her to show such concern for his studies meant everything.
Setting it aside he picked up the other present almost expecting this to be another book - it wasn't. It had a sleek black leather case, with the words Broomstick Servicing Kit stamped across it in silver.
Amazed he uttered quietly to himself "Wow Hermione." As he opened up the case to see what was inside. Sitting right on top was a Do-it–yourself handbook on broom care, under that was all the things you would need, A large Jar of Fleetwood's High–Finish Handle Polish, a pair of gleaming silver Tail-Twig Clippers, and a small brass compass to clip onto a broom in case you're going on long journeys.
If there was one thing he missed about Hogwarts other than his friends it was Quidditch, something that was one of the most popular sports in the Wizarding world. It was highly dangerous, and with the danger came the excitement of the adrenaline; it was played on broomsticks. Harry happened to have a natural talent for Quidditch, he had been hand picked by the Gryffindor house headmaster, Professor McGonagall, during his first year at Hogwarts.
Becoming the youngest person in a century to play for one of the Hogwarts House teams. His Nimbus 2001 racing broom being one of Harry's most prized possessions. - His wand, Hedwig, and the picture of his parents that he had gotten from Hagrid at the end of his first year being the others.-
Ecstatic that Hermione had also thought to gift him something that was a little outside her normal tastes, Harry gently returned the contents of the box back to their original positions. Placing the case aside along with all the others, he reached for the last parcel. Which was simply a letter from Hogwarts. He however did noticed that it was quite thicker than usual; he opened it and read:
Dear Mr. Potter,
Please note, there has been a change to the third year class syllabus, and the book lists have been updated to include three new texts for your Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration classes.
As usual the new school year will begin on September 1st. With the Hogwarts express leaving from King's Cross Station, platform nine and three- quarters, at eleven o'clock.
Also, third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.
Sincerely,
Deputy Headmistress,
Gryffindor Headmaster,
Professor McGonagall
No longer grinning Harry looked to the Hogsmeade permission slip. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; he'd love the option to experience an entirely different Wizarding community than that of Diagon Alley. Despite that, he knew there was no way he was going to be able to convince Uncle Vernon or even Aunt Petunia to sign the form. Though he did know that Uncle Vernon's sister Aunt Marge would be coming in sometime tomorrow, so maybe if he was on extra good behavior he could barter with them to sign it.
Glancing over at his bedside table where the small lamp light, which seemed unusually harsh illuminated his alarm clock; who's hands insisted that it was two in the morning. Deciding that it would be better to deal with it later, in favor of getting some much-needed sleep. Harry reached up over his head board to cross off another day from the calendar. He had been using it to keep track of the days he had left till he could leave for Hogwarts, and be back amongst his friends. Then with a sharp click the little bit of light that had been left on in his room vanished without a trace. As sleep claimed the disheartened teenager.
With only an hour before Aunt Marge and Uncle Vernon arrived back from the train station, the Kitchen was abuzz with Aunt Petunia trying to make everything perfect for her arrival. Dudley sat stuffing his black hole of a mouth, as his five chins bulged and wobbled with the effort of his obnoxious chewing. His beady pig eyes glued to the TV that the Dursley's had purchased as a welcome home present for the summer. In an effort to keep him from complaining anymore over the long distance between the fridge and the TV in the living room.
Harry had managed to catch Uncle Vernon, and Aunt Petunia in a good mood this morning. Meaning he was able to secure an agreement with them. One that stated; in exchange for his best behavior, they would sign the permission forms. However not without Uncle Vernon stressing that this deal had one strict condition; only if his behavior was impeccable, for Aunt Marge's whole stay, would he agree to sign anything to do with that unnatural school of his.
Desperate to keep in their good graces now, Harry was helping Aunt Petunia as much as he could in the kitchen and with whatever else she would order him to do. From cleaning the oven to the rest of the house as well. Anything to keep her pleased with him, so that she might be keener to sign the forms, independently of whether Vernon was fully pleased or not. With them portraying him as a criminal boy, who was attending St. Brutus. Something that Harry was still nowhere near pleased that they had been lying about, had given them his word to keep his tongue in-cheek as long as she did.
The shrieks and shrill cries of the oversized women that had come stomping into the house could belong to none other than Aunt Marge. Immediately she beckoned for her angel neffy-poo Dudley to give her a hug. Barking orders as she entered the house, Uncle Vernon was blind to the fact that he had become nothing more than her whipping boy; couldn't be more pleased to have her and the large spoiled bulldog. Which she had affectionately named Ripper in their house. Harry caught his Aunt Petunia's slight grimace as Ripper lapped at some tea and biscuits, scattering crumbles all over her freshly cleaned floor. He smirked to himself, knowing that Aunt Petunia hated animals. She put up with Ripper however, because of who he belonged to.
Ripper growled at Harry as he took a seat away from the table that the rest of the Dursley's were sitting at; alerting Marge to his existence.
"So" She proclaimed. "You're still here are you." Her words sounded much more like a statement of distaste then a question. Harry grit his jaw and replied with a short. "Yes." At his lack of fear for her, her beady eyes narrowed.
"Don't you 'yes' me in that ungrateful tone boy, " Marge growled. "It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to the orphanage if you'd been dumped on my doorstep."
Clenching his fist, he fought the urge to promulgate that he would've much rather have been raised in said orphanage; than to have been kept here with the Dursleys. The thought of getting his form signed kept him from responding in kind to her antagonizations. He forced a painful smile onto his face to kept his mouth shut. Something that had not been worth the effort, which he quickly found out.
"DON'T you smirk at me!" She bellowed, before huffing and righting herself. She then muttered "I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I had hoped the school would've knocked some manners into you. But I can see it's been useless so far," turning to Vernon she asked.
"Where did you say you sent the boy to again Vernon?"
"St. Brutus's," He replied promptly. "It's the finest institution for the hopeless criminals such as him."
"I see," Aunt marge smiled approvingly. "do they use a cane at St. Brutus's boy?"
"uh-" Harry paused for a moment looking to Uncle Vernon who nodded curtly behind Aunt Marge's back, his stubby bulbous neck quickly disappearing into his collar and reappearing within seconds.
"Oh yeah, I've been beaten loads of times. In fact, I think I spend more time in the infirmary than I do in classes." Harry said in a mocking tone, one she didn't seem to catch. Much too pleased with the idea of him getting beaten so badly.
"Excellent, I won't have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. You say they've beaten you good boy?"
"Oh yeah..." Harry muttered, annoyed. Aunt Marge's eyes narrowed, as she said.
"I still don't like that tone of yours. If you can speak of your beatings in such a casual way, they clearly aren't hitting you hard enough. Petunia if I were you I'd write em'. Make it clear that you approve of any extreme force used in this one's case." Harry's knuckles cracked by his sides as he bit back another nasty retort. Uncle Vernon perhaps afraid that Harry might forget their agreement should he allow this conversation to go on much longer abruptly attempted to change the subject.
"Heard the news this morning, Marge? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?" Aunt Marge opted to ignore him in favor or wiggling her overly sized arse deeper into her seat; it creaked with instant protest to the abuse of her weight. Making herself right at home, before continuing on. Being sure that she was more speaking at Aunt Petunia, than to her.
"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy has turned out dear." She said over the lip of her cup of tea, before setting her cup down definitively. Unsatisfied with the taste of something so healthy.
"There's something rotten inside, nothing any of us could do about it." As her eyes roamed the room, she spotted Uncle Vernon's supply of Wine and they lit up.
"Vernon be a dear, and get me a glass will you." Aunt Marge said as she waved at the stash. Once he had returned with a cup she continued on with her conversation, this time, starting on Uncle Vernon.
"It's all in the breeding you know, that's one of the basic rules of animal breeding. I see it all the time with my dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, then there's something wrong with the pup-"
All of Harry's mantras about Hogsmeade parished and the wine glass in Aunt Marge's hand exploded. Shards of glass went flying in every which direction and Aunt Marge sputtered and blinked, her face dripping with the wine she had just been nurturing.
"Marge!" Squealed Aunt Petunia. "Are you alright?" Shaking it off, Aunt Marge stated that there was nothing to worry about.
"Must have squeezed it too hard, I did the same thing at Fubster's the other day. You see I have a very firm grip." Steaming Uncle Vernon decided to inform Harry that perhaps it was best for him to head up to his room. Vernon was quickly shushed by Aunt Marge as she had certainly decided she was not even nearly close to done insulting the boy and his family lineage.
"Hush now Vernon," She started with a snap of her fingers "clean this up boy!" while Aunt Petunia went to grab her another glass.
"Ah yes, just a small one perhaps this time." She stated as Vernon poured the wine again, this time only until it was about a quarter of the way full and handed it to her. She went to sip on it before pausing and looking at it displeased. "a bit more than that Vernon," she reached the glass back out towards him as he began to pour another quarter of wine into the glass. "Bit more…. There we go, that's the ticket!" she proclaimed as the wine reached the very rim, nearly spilling as she made quick work of slurping some of it down. Surely in the need to wet her palet again after all her wailing.
Grossly moaning her appreciation and smacking her lips Aunt Marge said. "Ahh, that's excellent nosh Petunia. Now this one here," she gestured to Harry "has got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs too, had to drown one last year. The ratty thing was weak, and underbred."
Already knowing where this was going, Harry made his best attempt to tune out the rest of her ramblings about him and his pedigree. Trying anything he could he quickly recalled page twelve of his book: A Charm to Cure Reluctant Reversers to his mind; but he quickly lost the ongoing battle when she started again.
"It's all to do with the blood, as I was saying before. Now I'm not saying anything against your family Petunia, but your sister was a bad egg. They can often turn up in the best of families you know." Marge affirmed with a quick nod of her head. "Then to make matters worse she ran off with a miscreant and here's the result." She made another gesture to Harry and did nothing to hide the look of disgust.
"This Potter, where did you say his father worked again Vernon?"
"Uh, he didn't work Marge." Uncle Vernon stuttered.
"As I expected! Utterly useless, a good for nothing lazy scoundrel; who ran off and got themselves killed in a car crash-."
"He was not!" Harry cut her off suddenly, burning with rage. Barely catching as she proceeded to demean his family even more. He gave up on the thought of being polite, saying goodbye to Hogsmeade in his mind he bellowed right back.
"They didn't die in a bloody car crash!"
"Yes, they did died in a car crash, you nasty little liar. Then left you to be a Burden on your hardworking relatives!" Aunt Marge was swelling with rage, as the alcohol burned within her, and her anger with Harry only grew.
"You are an insolent, ungrateful- " Aunt Marge suddenly stopped talking as it looked for a moment that her words had failed her. For she seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger but the Swelling never stopped, as the doors slammed open and the wind thrashed around the kitchen, she grew and grew in size. Much like a balloon that was being filled with helium she began to rise into the air and then onward out through the doors. As Uncle Vernon followed out after her ballooning body, trying with all his might catch her. Harry turned tail and stormed up to his room. Shoving all his things for school into his chest, repacking with haste the little things he had removed from his belongings. He then stormed over to Hedwig's cage, seeing that Errol appeared to be rested enough now he opened up the cage and let them out.
Turning to Hedwig, he told her to fly to the Leaky caldron attaching a short letter to her leg that explained he would be in need of a room and that Hedwig was there to give them ample warning.
As she flew away the bellows of Uncle Vernon stopped, Harry knew now that he really needed to rush otherwise he wasn't sure he would make it out before Vernon tried to lay his hands on him.
Grabbing his wand and placing it in his back pocket he raced down the steps, the pounding of his luggage banging of the stairs behind him; a sure sign to the Dursley's that he was planning on leaving.
"YOU! You bring her back freak! You bring her back right now!" Uncle Vernon steamed as his face turned bright red with the force of his words.
Without answering him Harry continued forward towards the front door, but Uncle Vernon had other plans than to let him leave without so much as a word. With an agile quickness that was surprising and unusual for his size, his uncle jumped in front of him. Stopping Harry short of the bottom of the stairs.
When all he received in return for this impeding intimidation from Harry was a silent glare; Vernon glowered and made a lunge towards him in an attempt to take hold of the boy. This idea was soon forfeited however, as Harry pulled his wand out from his back pocket and pointed it directly in his face.
'He just blew up Marge without so much as a word, imagine the capabilities of this boy with wand in hand.' Vernon trembled in thought, what he wouldn't give to beat this insolent child again; but with that wand in his hand, and no guarantee that it wouldn't be used against him. There was a cause for pause where there wasn't before. If there was one thing that would always win out over his rage; it was his instinct for survival.
"You wouldn't dare..." Vernon tried, "One utterance of a spell from that wand, and they'll never have you back at that precious school of yours!" He continued, as his confidence that he would see the boy deflate behind that little twig and lower it to his side, grew with every word that flew from his mouth. He was so sure this would give him the opening he needed to take hold of the boy and beat him senseless.
He could already hear the sound of his belt making purchase on the skin of the boy's back, and the sweet sound of his cries of anguish echoing in his ears. Perhaps that was why it took him longer than usual to see the vengeful smirk that had taken the place of what should've been a defeated frown.
But when he did, and he made eye contact with his nephew, the images sputtered to a stop inside his head. Harry having noticed the change in his Uncle Vernon's demeanor, replied with a sneer.
"I've already used magic outside of school, or did you already forget what just happened to your 'sweet sister', what's to stop me from using it again now?"
That was a thought that slithered through Vernon, with a venom that burned every fiber of his being. That freak wouldn't hesitate to hurt him should he try to hit him again, and this was a promise, not a threat. That much he could tell just by looking at the seriousness in the boys face.
"She deserved what she got, and you will too should you attempt to hurt me again. If that isn't something you'd like to experience, then I'd move out of my way." Harry declared, in a strong and steady tone that visibly was so striking of a contrast from his actual age; one couldn't ignore just how much such words and conviction didn't belong in the mouth of a teenage boy.
It was an image that seared itself into the retinas of his eyes, and took up home at the forefront of his mind. For but a moment the Uncle that had originally picked up the small baby that had been left on his front door stoop, and had brought him inside with such extreme care; emerged once more.
What had he done, what had he become. He hadn't meant to harm the child this much, but there was this incessant voice in his head whenever the boy was around. Telling him all these horrible things. Making comparisons between Harry and his family and made it so blatantly clear that as muggles they were lacking where this boy had been blessed.
The jealousy that those thoughts had surmounted to had gotten the best of him. In shame he hung his head stepping to the side, and allowing the young man to pass by him.
With in seconds the front door was slammed shut behind him, and the boy was gone.
Still in a rage, it wasn't long before Harry had reached the park that was in his little neighborhood, throwing his suitcase down on the ground in irritation; before dropping to the curb beside it. Harry let loose a roar of anguish, in attempt to break through the haze that had overcome him and his better judgment.
She was such an insufferable woman, that mere hours after she arrived. Harry had already thrown out all hopes of getting on his relative's good side. Hogsmeade be damned, he thought. It felt good to blow her up like a balloon, but now he might not even be able to go back to Hogwarts.
The thought that he might never be allowed back to that school, the only true home that he had ever known. Which would only alienate him from his friends and from the legal use of his magic. Built a sinking, solid dense feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Suddenly Harry felt as if he was ready to vomit.
With a creak of the swings and a slight change of the wind, he was abruptly very aware that he wasn't alone here any longer. Turning around, not knowing what he was expecting to see. Harry was shocked to find a black dog, with onyx eyes that looked at him with an intelligence that he hadn't thought a dog could possess.
Nonetheless he wasn't comfortable with the dog as it began to snarl at him. Backing up he raised his hand to show some kind of surrender, then gesturing with his thumb as he picked up his luggage; to show that he was leaving. Instantaneously there was a light and a high pitched screeching. Quickly the dog that had materialized seemingly out of nowhere, shrunk back into the bushes and disappeared.
While Harry turned to figure out what that horrendous sound was from; he was received by the sight of the opening doors, to an unusually violent purple triple-decker London bus, and a scraggly looking man stepping down to greet him.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded Witch or Wizard. Simply stick out your thumb and climb on board; we'll take you anywhere you'd like to go! I'm Stan Shunpike, and I'll be your conductor for this evening." Stan said as he gestured to himself proudly.
Stan was a young man who looked no older than eighteen. His face was still riddled with numerous pimples that were all red and irritated; clear evidence of the raging hormones he was still under the influence of. Though still older than Harry by many years, his young age did nothing to sooth Harry's discomfort with the sudden appearance of the awkward man.
Seeing that Harry wasn't going to respond to his perfectly rehearsed introduction Stan shuffled his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets and asked "So where you headed?"
"To the Leaky Caldron," Harry paused taking it all in, the wonders of the wizarding world never ceases to amaze him, yet still he felt the need to elaborate. "That's in London."
'Maybe there's more than one Leaky Cauldron? I wouldn't want another Diagon alley incident. It's best to just be safe.'
Laughing, Stan looked back over his shoulder and called out. "Did you hear that Ernie? That's in London!"
'Well if he would've fell sideways into a troubling shop in Nocturne Alley just last year he wouldn't be finding that comment so funny.' Harry thought to himself as he walked up the steps to the first floor of the KnightBus.
After a rather terrifying ride on the KnightBus, that gave the impression of only affecting Harry; while all other occupants in the vehicle had idoly went about their business. As they were sped, squished, and spun to their destination; and with the self-proclaimed Stan Shunpike cracking jokes almost the entire way. The only reprieve Harry had, had to gain some bearings and take in his surroundings; left him wondering at the Daily Prophet, and the screaming image of a familiar emaciated looking man that was adorning the front page.
'So the escaped prisoner that's been all over the news is from the wizarding world?'
By the time they arrived at the Leaky Caldron, Harry wasn't sure what seemed more appropriate; kissing the very ground he had stepped out onto after getting off the bus, or throwing up on it due to the vertigo he was experiencing.
After that whirlwind ride, of one thing he was certain. He: Harry James Potter, would never use that dreaded triple decker KnightBus ever again.
But before he could make up his mind on either action however, he was intercepted by the owner Tom who was there to escort Harry to an upper office -'Probably Tom's office since he was the owner of the Leaky Caldron.'- Harry thought. Once they arrived he came face to face with the Head of the Ministry of Magic.
"Oh, Harry! There you are. I expect your travel here was safe then?"
'Sure if being hurled around at excessive speeds and magically modified to squeeze "comfortably" between two double-decker London busses counts as safe travel in the wizarding world.' Harry thought to himself.
"Oh, yeah. I guess you can say that." He replied instead, after deciding it was best not to draw attention to his grievances with the wizarding world until after he knew just what kind of trouble he was in for the Marge incident.
"Good, good!" Cornelius cherefully replied. "I wanted you to know that we've successfully recovered your aunt, and she had been returned to her proper size; with her memories appropriately modified."
"About that, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it; I was just so upset at the time." Harry advocated quickly in fear of the consequences now that he was face to face with them.
"We know that Harry, there's no harm done." Fudge said a calm smile covering his features, this was clearly a man who was in charge and knew it. "We're finished here Tom. Will you show Harry to his room?"
"Of course Minister." Tom replied grabbing Harry by his arm, tugging him towards the exit of the room.
"But sir!" Harry exclaimed as he struggled against Tom's hold on him. "I don't understand! I commited a crime! Underage wizards aren't supposed to do magic outside Hogwarts." About halfway through his protest Tom had let go of Harry's arm and was now simply waiting by the door for him to fully express what he wanted to say.
"Oh calm down Harry. The ministry doesn't throw people in Azkaban for blowing up their aunts. Just don't go making a habit of it." Cornelius asserted.
"Well shouldn't I be expelled from Hogwarts or something?" He inquired
"Nonsense! This was a simple case of accidental magic, a common thing among the wizarding 's no need for expulsion or anything as drastic as such. That is unless you'd like to be?" Fudge reassured Harry formerly.
"N-no, no. I wouldn't want anything like that. Thank you sir." Harry stuttered. Stumbling over himself in haste to leave before Fudge could change his mind.
"Splendid, then do enjoy your stay Harry. Oh, and I'd stay away from the split pea soup. It can have a nasty habit of biting back if you don't eat it quickly enough." With the soft click of the door behind him, Harry's run in with the Minister of Magic was abruptly ended.
Dismissed Harry was escorted once more by Tom; only this time it was to his room where Hedwig and his luggage were already waiting for him along with another letter from Hogwarts that sat atop a strange looking book.
After the long day he had, he was in no mood to read them so he simply moved them aside for the time being, fed a treat to Hedwig who affectionately nipped at his fingers. Then climbed into bed; where he was quick to fall asleep for the rest of the night.
The next morning Harry had woken to the rumbling rattle of a passing train; successfully shaking the whole building with it.
'First things first.' he thought. 'Time for a piss and a proper shower.' Making his way into the bathroom that was attached to his suite Harry made quick work of his morning routine.
When he re-entered his room he saw the letter that was still resting on top of an extremely strange looking book; which Harry could swear was making gurgling noises.
Once he finished reading the letter he found that said book was from Hagrid, who was proudly stating that he had been chosen as the new Professor for the Study of Magical Creatures class, and that this Monster Book of Monsters would be found useful for him in the coming year.
Curious Harry undid the binding and went to open the book, cautious due to the strange sounds being emitted from it. He had only just opened the book to a random page and read:
- Hippogriffs are well known for their magical abilities to accurately judge the character of any Witch or Wizard. As well as properly assess any emotional connections they may have to other Witches or Wizards who are around it's worthy rider at the time of their assessment.
Uncommonly they are also known to accurately predict the soulmates of said Witch or Wizar-
Then suddenly Harry's readings were brusquely cut off as the book gave a tremendous snap. One that would've landed directly on his nose had Harry's quick reflexes not kicked in and pulled the book away from his face within the nick of time.
Startled he threw the book away from him, and watched as the book then scurried its way under his bed. In shock he simply stood there bewildering at the capabilities of magic once more. This time however he couldn't stop himself from wondering at what possible reasons an author could have to give life to a book. Not just life, but aggressive life at that. "What good is a book that is impossible to read?" Harry muttered out loud to the furniture and shelves of his room, both expecting and not; for something to answer him. Nothing did.
After taking his time to formulate a plan to capture the rouge text. Harry jumped up onto his bed, having seized one of his hand-me-down shoes; perching himself on the side of the bed. Shoe in hand, ready to implement his trap. Harry dropped the footwear, and no sooner had it hit the floor with a dull thud did the monster book strike, chomping down again and again on the poor jogger that had been chosen for sacrifice.
Quickly Harry snatched it up in victory as he clasped the dreaded thing closed once more. Clutching it and his now nearly ruined shoe in his hands; the door burst open and Harry was suddenly engulfed in a bear hug that had nearly knocked him flat. His line of sight impeded by a bushel of messy brown hair. He knew who it was in an instant. It was his dear friend Hermione. And this was one of her legendary hugs.
"Hey there Hermione," Harry said having dropped the now rebound book and shoe with a couple of thumps on the floor; in favor of wrapping his arms securely around her waist. He returned her hug, happy to see a friendly face after many months with the Dursley's.
"Oh Harry, I heard what happened. Honestly, the whole place is abuzz with chatter about it. I almost couldn't believe my ears as I entered the pub, and suddenly all I'm hearing is your name, then when they said that you were here. I just had to come see you! Truly those relatives of yours are horrible people." She exclaimed tightening her hug slightly before pulling away and checking him over.
"Everything else is alright though, right?" Hermione asked even as her eyes wandered over his body searching for any imperfections, or evidence that there was foul play.
"I'm fine Hermione. I promise." Harry assured her. Once she was satisfied that he was indeed fine she let go and he watched as she scurried over to Hedwig.
"Hedwig! It's so good to see you again." Hermione exclaimed
"You weren't kidding about being here sometime this week then?" Harry needlessly inquired, having been at a loss for something to say. But not appreciating the lack of her immediate attention. It made Harry partially wish that something else had happened to him, only if it meant that her hands and attention would've stayed on him longer.
"Of course not Harry. You know I don't joke about my education." She said as she affectionately scratched behind Hedwig's ears. Moving to bury her face behind her hair more effectively. `Don't see it. Please, please don't see it.' Hermione begged silently in her head as she felt her cheeks heat up impossibly more. 'I can't believe I just checked Harry out like that.'
"I know, it's one of the things I love about you." Harry admitted, obliviously. "In fact, I'm surprised that you haven't miraculously purchased your entire booklist and read every text already."
"Actually, now that you mentioned it I came here for another reason as well. I'm sure you got that letter from McGonagall by now, meaning we have even more books to go searching for! So I was thinking we could go to Diagon Alley together and get some of our supplies. What do you say?" Hermione professed, grasping at the attempt to change the subject. Ignoring the bit where Harry had admitted to loving things about her. Her mind short circuiting at the very idea.
With her furious blush, thoroughly managed she turned to move back towards Harry; slower this time, she noticed the discarded book and shredded jogger that laid on the floor.
"Oh Harry, what happened to your shoe?" She inquired as she lifted the offending item off the floor and into the air for inspection.
"Uh… I kinda had a hard run in with the monster part of the Monster Book of Monsters." Harry sheepishly offered in retort, while scratching the back of his head.
"Well that clearly just won't do, you can't go walking around in a tattered pair of joggers." Hermoine declared with barely concealed mirth.
"Uh, I don't really have the money to replace them." Harry replied nervously.
"Non-sense! My parents gave me more than enough money to buy everything I'll be needing for school and then some. So I'll simply buy them for you!" Harry wanted to protest, and his rejection of the idea really was sitting on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be set free, but the way she stood there in front of him, having walked back over as she assessed the damages. His answer died there, as he took in the sight of her peering up at him expectantly.
For the life of him he couldn't understand why that view brought a certain warmth to his cheeks that wasn't there before.
She was well aware that he never said no to her. So it seemed now, that he had no choice nodding his consent.
Immediately after his concurrence he was promptly dragged away by a gleeful Hermione. Clearly she was on a mission, and whether it was for fear of him changing his mind or because she really was that excited. She had grabbed him up neglecting to realize that until they had purchased the new shoes, Harry was barefoot.
The blush that decorated her cheeks when Harry had pointed out that she had pulled him away from his room while he was still underdressed in her haste to get to Diagon Alley; only went unnoticed by him because he had already turned back towards his room in order to finish getting prepared.
'He's so cute… He just let me drag him away like that, and he didn't stop me until it was clear to him that we were heading out the door. ' She thought to herself as she watched him walk away. A small smile creeping across her lips.
As they arrived in Diagon Alley Hermione slowed to inform Harry on her plan of action that she thought would best utilize their time. Stopping shortly in front of Flourish & Blotts.
"Okay, so the first thing I want to get is all of our books. Then we can wander around and find something else to do." Hermione stated confidently, only pausing when she received no assurance from her personal prisoner. Looking back she saw his guilty, and ashamed face. It was clear he had absolutely no idea what books were actually on their booklist.
"Oh honestly Harry. Did you really not even look at the booklist?" Hermione promulgated shoving him from behind as they entered the magical novel store.
"There were three new books that were added." She said, shaking her head in an amused annoyance before continuing on in nearly perfect french. Counting them on her fingers as she listed them off. "Âme-sœur Recherche Charmes, Âme-sœur Recherche Potions, et Âme-sœur Recherche Métamorphose. Which is French for Soul-mate Searching, obviously a different edition is required for Charms, potions, and Transfigurations." She stated it as if Harry too had spent the summer holidays in France with his family.
All he could do was shake his head in amusement similar to how she had previously at the expense of him and his obliviousness/inattentiveness to his studies. Being that she was already past the subject gleefully grabbing up the books on both of their lists. She didn't even see his form of endearment for her habits. It wasn't until he noticed her picking up a pair of beginners books on Ancient Runes that he stopped her, shocked that she too had chosen to take that class instead of Divinations. The class that Ron had been so set on all of them taking together.
"Hermione I didn't know you're taking Ancient Runes as well." He said
"Oh of course! I found that class loads more interesting that Divinations. I was however certain that Ron would convince you to take Divinations with him. So I'd say that I'm the one who's quite shocked that you would choose to take Ancient Runes instead." Brushing it off she piled more books into Harry's arms. He had become nothing more than the pack-mule for their things to her; of this he was sure. Once she had triple and quadruple checked that they had everything they would be needing for the coming semester. Hermione began to push Harry towards the register so that they could be rung up.
Once they were back on the streets of Diagon Alley, with their magically shrunken books and their two shopping bags. They wandered around looking for something else to do before returning to the Leaky Caldron. When they passed by Magical Menagerie, Harry noticed that Hermione paused and sighed wistfully.
That wishful sigh brought pause to Harry. 'If she wants to go in there so bad, why doesn't she just ask?'
"Uh actually Hermione, I need to pick up some more owl treats for Hedwig. Would you mind if we stopped in there for a bit?" Harry inquired quickly, though he didn't really need anything more for Hedwig just yet, he got this strange feeling that Hermione wouldn't have gone there otherwise. Even though it was clear she really wanted to.
"Sure if you'd like." She answered simply, though her spirits were raised at the mere mention of going into the pet store.
Wandered in together, however Hermione's head turned almost instantly to the cat section. Knowing her well enough Harry could practically see her need, and could tell that she didn't wish to impose the idea on him. Quick and cunningly he came up with a plan that would make it so she wouldn't feel guilty for dragging him over to the cats.
"Hey, why don't we look around a bit first?" When he got no argument from her he began to walk over to look at the cats. Patting himself on his back mentally for the utter brilliance of his plan. 'There's no way she'll know that I planned all of this!' Every cat was meowing and rubbing themselves along the cages begging to be pet, as they walked by.
Suddenly Hermione was meowing back at them, not the kind of mocking meow that one would typically throw back at a cat to make it feel important, or like it's understood. But actually meowing like she could understand them, much like how Harry would hiss at snakes.
"Uh, Hermione… Are you aware that you're meowing? " Harry whispered to her, hoping to keep it between them.
"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry Harry. I never got the chance to tell you last year since I was petrified shortly after finding out, but much like you could communicate with snakes I found that I could suddenly understand what cats were saying. Like there was this voice in my head whenever I was near one. So I went to Madam Pomfrey about it, and she said it could be a side effect from accidentally ingesting the polyjuice potion with a cat hair in it. Whatever the case, now it would appear that I am a Felistongue." She blushed softly as she said this and Harry couldn't help but be in awe because now he wasn't the only one who could hear things he shouldn't and to think that it would be one of his best friends that could also communicate with a species of animal.
"That's brilliant Hermione!" Harry exclaimed as an idea came to him. "You still don't have a pet for Hogwarts do you?" Harry questioned and smirked victoriously when she admitted that she didn't, because she didn't want to bother her parents with such a petty purchase. Even though she was well aware that they would be fine with her having an animal. After a few more moments of discussing which cat Hermione liked best out of all of them, and her informing him that the most intelligent one seemed to be the smushed face orange cat that had pushed its way forward earlier.
Harry snuck away, with the excuse that he was going to go grab the treats for Hedwig and went straight to the register.
"Excuse me, ma'am, I would like to make a purchase," Harry stated looking expectantly at the attendant.
"Yes sir, what can I help you with?" She inquired, and as Harry told her about the Orange flat faced cat that his friend had taken a liking too, he explained that he wanted it to be a surprise for her. An early birthday present.
"Ah, I understand. I can help you with that. " Harry then ordered some owl treats from the attendant, before he paid for it all and made his way back over to Hermione, who looked like she was worrying over something.
"What is it, Hermione?" Harry inquired curiously, as her brows were furrowed and she was biting on her lower lip; a bad habit that he had noticed she would do whenever she was seriously thinking about something. Causing her to jump slightly, she quickly turned to him and said.
"Harry I know this isn't something I really need to ask you, but I would like to keep my being a Felistongue a secret for now. I told you, because I knew you would understand but I'm not certain everyone else would. So, if you could keep my secret for me, even from Ron for now, I would really appreciate it." Harry glanced at her and noticed how she was picking at her sleeves and clearly she was serious about this.
"Even from Ron?" He questioned her. Just to be sure because Ron was their friend after all. Even though he could be a bit of a prick sometimes. He believed that he had handled the fact that Harry was a parseltongue pretty well.
"Yes Harry, even Ron. I'm just not certain he would take too well to being the only one out of the three of us who can't speak to animals. Once the time is right I'll tell him. I promise, but for now I think it's best if we don't. " Hermione Said
"Alright, I promise. " He replied as the attendant from earlier came over to them plucking the orange flat face cat out from the pen with the others and began to carry him back to the front. Hermione cried out "Crookshanks!"
"Crookshanks?" Harry inquired. "Who or what, is a Crookshanks?"
"He's the cat that I was telling you about, the one that the attendant just walked away with. I guess someone must have purchased him." Hermione looked so chest fallen that Harry could hardly keep it from her that he was the one that bought him.
It wasn't until the attendant returned, a caged Crookshanks and all the supplies she could need for him in one hand and the proper adoption paperwork in the other. That Harry admitted to being the one who'd bought him, and that he had done it for her.
"Thank you so much Harry!" Hermione squealed with glee and gave him a bone-crushing hug that knocked them both to the ground. They laid there in shock, eyes locked in a staring contest. As blushes slowly creeped up each of their cheeks. They only returned to reality when the attendant cleared her throat at them. Handing Hermione the cage as she stood. Hermione pulled Crookshanks out of his container, instantly cuddling up to him and meowing softly, in what sounded like a reassuring way. Then smothering him with hugs and kisses to his face, before there was some more meowing that caused Harry to pause and wondered.
'Is this how everyone felt when I spoke to snakes? Like there's some secret conversation happening; some sort of an inside joke that you're not a part of or privy to?'
Crookshanks turned his piercing yellow eyes onto him, releasing an unsettled yowl. "But Harry, why would you buy him for me?" Hermione asked after nodding her head to whatever it was that Crookshanks had said peering at him in wonder.
Startled, and shifting uncomfortably under the two sets of unusually intelligent eyes. He realized rather quickly that this was the second time in less than twenty-four hours, that he had come across an animal whose eyes were uncharacteristically human in nature and intelligence. 'How strange' Harry thought, before stating. "I bought him for you because it was clear how much you wanted him, and I couldn't think of a better birthday present for the girl who bought me not one but two presents for my birthday."
He then reasoned that since they wouldn't be able to leave the castle to buy her a gift for her birthday in September; he figured it was best that he would buy one for her now.
After a quick stop back at the Leaky Caldron where Hermione safely placed Crookshanks inside her rented room. She and Harry returned to the busy shopping square, after buying Crookshanks for her. This time Hermione was insistent that it was time he got that properly fitting pair of shoes.
Glancing down at his beaten, battered, and chewed up shoes. Wiggling his toe in and out of the freshly made holes; Harry lemented.
A/N: Here's Chapter two! Hope you guys enjoyed it! I know there's not much of Ron or any of the Weasleys but I promise you they'll be coming in soon!