I do not own Harry Potter or anyone from the Harry Potter books/films. If I did, I would not be writing FANfictions about Harry Potter or anyone from the Harry Potter books/films. That is all. (:

Chapter 4

Fortune and Friends…

"Oh, Dudders, look at this one! It will go perfectly with your eyes", Aunt Petunia exclaimed, holding up a sapphire-blue vest. It was very well-made and expensive. Harry couldn't help but wonder, just as he had many times before, where the Dursleys got all of their spending money. Uncle Vernon didn't have a paying job and he wasn't from a particularly wealthy family. The same could be said about Aunt Petunia.

Dudley stood about a foot away from his mother, his back to Harry, gazing longingly at the pastries in the bakery across the village square. He grunted and waved his hand distractedly at Aunt Petunia.

"Oh", Aunt Petunia gushed, "I knew that you would love it!"

Harry ducked his head to hide his smirk. Aunt Petunia saw him. Her face changed immediately from the proud, loving look that she gave Dudley to the disgusted, hateful one she always gave Harry.

"Hold this." She tossed the blue vest on top of the huge pile of clothing already weighing down Harry's tired arms. Aunt Petunia's eyes spit fire as she snarled at Harry to stand completely still and not talk to anyone until she and Dudley came back from Madam Weasley's bakery; Dudley had started complaining about his "hunger", even though he had just eaten breakfast an hour ago. Harry mumbled a "Yes, Madam" before his aunt and cousin pranced out of Madam Malkin's clothing store.

"Would you like me to put those behind the counter, love?" Madam Malkin's kind face questioned Harry. "I could hold them till Madam and young Master Dursley return?"

Harry would have given anything to be able to accept Madam Malkin's offer, but he knew that he couldn't. If Aunt Petunia came back and saw that Harry hadn't obeyed her orders, there would be serious trouble when they returned home. And even if Harry managed to get the clothes back in his arms by the time Aunt Petunia saw him, Dudley would probably still notice that Harry had just picked them back up; despite being considerably dense, Dudley was very good at noticing things that were wrong with Harry or that Harry had done wrong.

"No, Madam", Harry smiled sadly. "But thank you for asking."

Madam Malkin smiled at him before going to a room at the back of her shop.

Harry watched her go, and then leaned against the wall beside the mirror nearest to him. He watched Aunt Petunia and Dudley walk into Madam Weasley's shop. His stomach growled at him; not because he was particularly hungry, but because he knew how delicious Madam Weasley's cooking was. He had tried a pastry once when he was about six years old after swiping it from a tray laden with sweets and deserts. Unfortunately, Dudley had seen him take the treat and had told his mother. Fortunately for Harry, Aunt Petunia was having some guests over for dinner so he hadn't been beaten for stealing the cake ("We don't want any mess before the guests arrive, Vernon!"). But Uncle Vernon did lock him in the cellar for the duration of the evening and part of the next day. When he finally remembered his nephew, Uncle Vernon let him out, but the damage was already done.

Harry was still terrified of that small, cold, black pit behind the Dursleys' house. It was one of the main reasons that Harry did his best not to anger or disobey his relatives, even Dudley. Harry would take the beatings, lashings, and degradations over that tiny prison cell any day.

I wonder if my mother liked pastries... She must have. Maybe she even baked some for me when I was a baby! I bet they were just like Madam Weasley's… No! Better than Madam Weasley's… She probably let me eat as many sweets as I wanted to… Then Father would come in after working all day and complain about how Mother was spoiling me… Mother would laugh and silence his good-natured grumblings by feeding one of her cookies to him…

Harry lost himself in one of his imaginary memories to banish the breathlessness that came over him when he thought about or saw the cellar. Soon, the trauma and terror of that night eleven years ago were exactly where they belonged: in the past. They were replaced by the warmth and happiness that Harry associated with his parents.

It was peculiar, Harry thought, that his faux remembrances seemed to be stronger than his real experiences. The actual memories that Harry had were like hot flashes, quickly there and quickly gone. But his imagined memories with his parents… They were like a winter's eve fire, soaking into your skin like sunlight. Harry drank them in… He craved them…

He supposed he was crazy, missing two people so much that he had no recollection of. But then, he figured that it wasn't so much his parents he missed as much as all he had missed out on by not having them in his life. Growing up in Little Whinging with tons of families that were as normal and as functional as possible, it was only natural that Harry would feel lost and lonely without loved ones of his own...

When he watched the Dursleys pamper and fawn over Dudley, he yearned for a mother and father to praise him. Every time Harry saw Madam Weasley fussing over and taking care of her many children, his heart yearned for a mother that would make sure that he wore his coat when it was cold outside and constantly badger him about how his day had gone even when he said he didn't want to talk about it. Whenever Harry saw Master Weasley giving advice and counsel to his sons who always seemed like they wanted to be anywhere but with their father during his lectures, Harry longed for a father that would teach him how to fish or ride a horse, things that Harry had had to learn on his own, and that would wrap his strong arm around Harry's shoulders and give him advice about girls… About Hermione Granger…

Hermione Granger… She looked so beautiful when she was at my house three days ago… She looks just as breathtaking today. Too bad she has to talk to Dudley out-

Harry nearly dropped the clothes when he realized who Hermione was talking to outside by the livery stables. Dudley was trying to have a sensible conversation with her, but he seemed to mainly just be standing there gaping at her with his mouth open. Harry didn't really blame his cousin. None of the girls in Little Whinging ever looked as elegant and put-together as Hermione did in her dark green riding cloak. Harry watched as she twirled one of her curls that had fallen out of her pearl-embellished braid with annoyance. He felt a thrill of delight as he realized that she was trying to get away from Dudley. Unfortunately, Aunt Petunia would hear nothing of Hermione leaving. She kept pulling at Hermione's sleeve every time Hermione tried to escape to her waiting white horse.

Finally she broke away from Harry's enormous cousin and bony aunt. Harry saw her relieved face when she turned away from Petunia and Dudley; it made him laugh. He watched her mount her horse and purposefully ignore the Dursleys as Aunt Petunia tried to continue their conversation and Dudley wordlessly held out his arms to her as if hoping she would come to him. Her annoyance changed to a frantic need to get as far away from them as possible. She dug her heels into the side of her stallion and Harry's heart dropped into his stomach- he knew what was about to happen. He watched the steed toss his great head and stamp his back legs. The horse was going to bolt.

Harry, regardless of the consequences, knew that he needed to help Hermione. He unceremoniously dropped Dudley's prospective wardrobe on the floor of Madam Malkin's and darted straight out the shop door when he heard a sharp whinny and two frightened screams, none of which came from Hermione.

"Harry!" Madam Malkin called after him as he dashed into the square. "Does Madam Dursley still want these clothes?"

Harry ignored Madam Malkin. He had one purpose in mind: to stop that horse. He could hear the pounding hooves as Hermione's stallion tore through the village square, its rider grasping the horse's long mane desperately. With horror, Harry realized that the spooked animal had jerked the reins from Hermione's hands. She had no control over her horse. That was going to make stopping the steed more difficult, but not impossible.

The commotion caused by the wild horse had caused most of the villagers to filter into the village square to see what was happening. They crowded the street and most of them froze in panic. Harry, eyes focused solely on Hermione and her galloping horse, ran into a stationary villager, knocking both himself and the man to the ground. Harry gasped when he hit the hard dirt. His fall knocked the breath out of him and it took him a few seconds to sit up.

"Watch where you're going, boy!" the man snarled at Harry from the ground.

Harry didn't even apologize. He tried to get up as fast as he could, but everyone was shoving and shouting as they tried to get out of the way of the charging horse. Harry finally managed to push his way out of the throng of panicked villagers, but quickly realized that he wasn't going to be able to make it to the other side of the square- which was where the stallion was headed- in time to stop the beast. Dread flowed through him, until he saw a wave of blazing red pour out of the bakery. Harry spotted Ron immediately. He stood at least a head taller than all of his family members.

"RON!" Harry screamed. He ran as fast as he could toward the bakery. "STOP THE HORSE!"

Ron didn't question Harry, but his face was deadly pale and drawn as he determinedly shoved his way to the front of the Weasley pack and darted straight into the path of the horse.

"RON!" Madam Weasley shouted, true panic and fear evident in her voice. But there was no time for her to pull Ron out of the way. Hermione and her mount came straight at Ron.

Ron bravely raised his arms, stood his ground, and shouted "WHOA!" just like Harry had taught him. However, Ron's "WHOA!" came out as more of a squeak than a loud, authoritative boom. As such, the horse was only spooked by Ron's sudden appearance in its path, so it didn't completely stop. It only reared up, sending Hermione rolling off its back onto the ground. Ron dropped straight to the ground with a yelp at the horse's frightening stance. Harry was sure that the stallion would trample Ron and Hermione before he could get over to them, when the horse turned from the two young people lying in the dirt road. It changed directions, this time charging straight at Harry. But Harry wasn't afraid. He had seen all he needed to see and he knew exactly what to do. Harry simply stood right where he was, calmly facing the massive animal.

"HARRY! THROW UP YOUR ARMS!" Ron, who had shakily risen to his knees, demonstrated his instructions by repeatedly throwing up his own long arms.

Harry knew that an intelligent, rational man should have been terrified to see the wild stallion charging straight at him, but all that Harry could do was smirk at how franticly avian Ron looked flapping his lanky arms.

Time seemed to slow down as the horse came nearer. Harry could see every ripple of its muscles, every flash of its wild eyes… He observed the sweat on the animal's coat, even though the horse hadn't been ridden much more than five minutes… This steed wasn't angry. He was frightened.

Harry felt the horse's fear and pain as though they were his own. He had always seemed to understand horses, their actions and movements making perfect sense and moving in supernatural harmony with Harry's own. They were alike, Harry and the large creatures. They had all been raised in captivity. Harry tried to meet the runaway horse's eyes, but the animal was so terrified that it acted irrationally. When the stallion saw that Harry wasn't going to move, it picked up speed.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted anxiously. "Get out of the way! He's gone mad!"

"No", Harry answered back calmly. "He hasn't."

Just as Harry knew he would, the horse made an effort to turn to the left of Harry in order to continue down the road. But Harry was prepared and grabbed the wildly flapping reins attached to Hermione's mount's bridle. Harry was yanked by the horse for about five seconds. Then the horse suddenly stopped struggling. The majestic animal stood perfectly still, its glossy eyes gazing at Harry and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Easy there", Harry whispered, soothingly stroking the frightened, panting horse's long neck. "Everything is all right now…"

Harry barely noticed that the square was completely silent and almost entirely empty of villagers. He was focused solely on the fantastic creature in front of him. The horse's raw terror faded away as its breath slowed and evened. Harry rested his forehead against the horse's massive face; he had developed this technique when he was nine years old, apparently old enough and strong enough to look after the Dursleys' horses. Harry felt that if the horse could meet your eyes, it would know whether you were trustworthy or not.

"He's not crazy", Harry mumbled to himself. "He's scared."

The horse rubbed its head against Harry's chest, silently thanking him and letting him know that it trusted him. Harry smiled softly at the beautiful animal. What he wouldn't give to have a horse like this one…

"Harry!" Ron and Hermione sprinted over to where Harry was, breaking the trance between Harry and Hermione's horse.

"Why did you do that, mate?" Ron slapped Harry on the back as he laughed with relief. "I thought that Firebolt was going to grind you into dust!"

Harry crinkled his brow. Firebolt?

"That's his name", Hermione explained. Harry noticed that she was filthy and had a small scrape on her right cheek, but was otherwise unharmed. However, her breath was labored and she was white with fright. Had she been worried about him?

No, of course not! She could have been seriously hurt. That is why she looks anxious. She doesn't care about you…

"Are you two all right?" Harry asked, trying to put his feelings aside.

"Fine", Hermione answered for both of them. Ron eyed her with disbelief.

"Just saw my life flash before my eyes twice in ten seconds, but other than that, I'm fine."

Harry laughed at Ron's characteristic humor. Hermione looked at them both, trying to decide whether or not Ron was jesting.

"I'm serious, Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "That was terrifying! Don't ever ask me to do anything like that ever again. I might have been killed!"

"Excuse me", Hermione interjected, her voice affronted, "but I do believe that I was the one in true peril."

"Excuse me, but I would much rather be on top of a monstrous animal than under him", Ron matched Hermione's tone.

"Yes", Harry smirked, "but since Mistress Granger ended up both on top of Firebolt and under him, I think she was the one in 'true peril'."

Ron stared at Harry openmouthed. Harry himself was surprised that he had made such a cheeky statement. Hermione laughed out loud, startling Harry and Ron out of their shock. She continued laughing uncontrollably.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked her a small smile appearing on his face.

Hermione didn't answer. She just continued laughing, clutching her stomach.

"Why are you laughing", Harry chuckled.

Hermione's mirth was contagious, and suddenly both Harry and Ron found the whole situation incredibly comical as well. Harry had no idea why they were laughing, except that they were so relieved that none of them had been killed. Harry's face was sore. He had never laughed this hard in his entire life. It was so rare that he had a reason to be this happy.

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

The trio's wild laughter was interrupted by Madam Weasley running over and whacking Ron on the back of his head.

"Aw, Mother", Ron whined, rubbing the back of his head, "why did you have to go and do that?"

Madam Weasley shook her finger at Ron. "You almost got yourself run over by that wild beast, Ron!"

Ron paled at his mother's anger. "Y-yes, but I did it to save Mistress Graven-"

"Granger", Harry and Hermione corrected Ron in whispers.

"Granger", Ron began again, trying to pretend that he hadn't said the wrong name, "from certain death!"

"Yes, well", Madam Weasley's temper was cooling, "that's very noble… But what about your 'certain death', Ronald Weasley?" She wrapped Ron in a tight embrace. "You scared me to death!"

"I'm fine, Mother", Ron's ears were pink with embarrassment as he tried to wriggle away from Madam Weasley's relieved kisses. His blush darkened as his older twin brothers, Fred and George, pointed and laughed about Ron being "ickle Ronniekins".

Harry heard thundering footsteps and turned to see Magistrate Granger rushing towards Hermione. He wrapped his strong arms around her and buried his bearded face in her messy hair.

"Oh, thank God you are all right!"

"I'm fine, Papa", Hermione assured her father, kissing him gently on the cheek.

Harry watched both families. They were so different, but the love that they all shared for each other made them extremely similar.

The Weasleys- excluding Master Weasley who was working on their farm, Bill, the eldest, who was helping with the planting, and Charlie, the second eldest, who didn't live in Little Whinging anymore- were clustered around Ron. Madam Weasley still wouldn't let go of Ron; Percy, the third eldest in the Weasley clan, was admonishing Ron severely about the foolishness of his actions; Fleur, Bill's gorgeous foreign wife, was commending Ron on his astounding bravery which caused Ron to grin stupidly and puff out his chest importantly; Fred and George, now joined by Ginny, the youngest and only Weasley daughter, were still poking fun at Ron.

The Grangers were much less rowdy and rambunctious than the numerous Weasleys. They simply stood there holding each other and smiling, Magistrate Granger stroking his daughter's hair lovingly.

Turning his attention back to Firebolt, Harry tried to squelch the longing in his heart as he stood off by himself. He patted the horse's long neck, praising him for being calm.

"Harry, my boy", Magistrate Granger boomed. Harry stopped himself from wincing, but his shoulders still stiffened, expecting a blow, "thank you! You've saved my daughter once again." Magistrate Granger shook Harry's hand emphatically. Harry looked down uncomfortably. He wasn't accustomed to being thanked for anything. "You truly are a brave man, son."

"You flatter me, sir", Harry mumbled to his shoes, trying to hide his smile at being called "son". "But I was not the one who truly saved Mistress Granger. Ron stopped the horse first."

Magistrate Granger turned to Ron, who had moved to stand by Hermione. "Then I owe you thanks as well, Ron."

Ron face lit up at being praised by the magistrate. "No trouble at all, Master Magistrate, sir!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's formality.

Magistrate Granger laughed loudly and slapped Ron on the back. George snorted loudly as Ron stumbled and coughed from the force of the magistrate's strong arm. Magistrate Granger didn't notice.

"You're a good lad, Ron!" He turned to Harry, who noticed that the magistrate didn't try to touch him like he had Ron. "You both are. The two of you deserve rewards!"

Ron nodded wholeheartedly, to Hermione's great amusement. Harry stood there silently. He knew that whatever Magistrate Granger gave him, he would never be allowed to keep…

"I say that you boys and your families shall join us for dinner tonight." The magistrate turned to his daughter. "What do you say to that, Hermione?"

Hermione grinned. "I say that it is a splendid idea, Papa."

Magistrate Granger laughed and put his arm around Hermione's small shoulders. "Then it must come to pass!" He politely looked to Madam Weasley, whose face was rapt with excitement, for approval of his plan. She nodded her acquiesce to the great delight of the five present Weasleys.

"I will tell my husband, sir", Madam Weasley said.

"Perfect!" Hermione exclaimed.

Magistrate Granger's eyes met Harry's. His smile faded. He walked over to Harry, away from the Weasleys and Mistress Granger.

"Forgive me, Harry", Magistrate Granger whispered. "My offer was thoughtless."

Harry smiled even though his chest hurt at the thought of missing such a fun evening. "It's all right, master."

"No, it's not all right", the magistrate seemed truly sorry. "I didn't consider-"

"Oh, Magistrate, don't fret!"

Harry spun around. At some point Aunt Petunia had crept up behind him and heard his and Magistrate Granger's conversation. She wore an unconvincing mask of happiness and admiration. Harry knew her pride and joy were staged because she never, ever looked at him like that.

"The boy can attend your dinner party", Aunt Petunia simpered. "And we'll accompany him, of course. I mean", here she looked at Harry and he could tell how difficult it was for her to keep her façade going, "if we're not the boy's family, then who is?" She laughed easily. Harry almost joined her; her attitude was so ridiculously faked.

"Well, then…" Magistrate Granger trailed off, unsure of how to respond to Aunt Petunia's forced love for Harry. "We shall be honored to have you and your family join us."

"Oh, splendid", Aunt Petunia exclaimed, clapping her hands together girlishly.

Harry stared in shock. Surely Aunt Petunia didn't mean for him to go? He never got to attend any sort of social gathering, except for the harvesting days, and he was only allowed to go to those days because it was expected that every family in Little Whinging supply at least one worker to bring in the crops. Surely this was just some cruel joke that his aunt was playing on him, getting his hopes up and then dashing them to bits by telling him that he, in fact, could not attend the Grangers' dinner party.

But the party is in honor of Ron and me… They can't exactly go without me!

Harry's face lit up. There was no way that the Dursleys could spoil tonight for him. He was going to Hermione Granger's house for dinner and, unless he was imagining it, the brown-eyed girl looked just as delighted as he felt.

Ron Weasley looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione Granger. Harry's emerald eyes were locked on Hermione and he was grinning. Harry never grinned!

Ron almost laughed with joy. Harry was his best friend in the whole world, but Ron had never been able to really make Harry happy. Ron tried, but Harry was so closed off and distrusting that Ron only really knew him halfway. They never really had enough time to be really close friends, but they were the best each other had.

Being the youngest Weasley boy, Ron had always been overlooked and overshadowed by his older brothers. Bill was so good-looking that he had managed to marry Fleur Delacour, a well-bred girl from across the sea; Charlie was the adventurer, joining the crew of a silk trader's ship the day he turned eighteen years old; Percy was so intelligent that he had been granted the right to be correspondently tutored by Lady Minerva McGonagall, the Regent's private secretary, a right so rarely extended to those of the Weasleys' station; Fred and George were hilarious and loved by everyone, particularly the young ladies of Little Whinging, who chased Fred and George after losing Bill to Fleur Delacour; and Ginny, being the only girl in the Weasley family and very pretty and charming, was spoiled and treated well by everyone in Little Whinging, particularly the elderly widows who adored pampering her.

Ron was… well, just Ron. He wasn't as funny as Fred or George, as handsome as Bill, as daring as Charlie, as smart as Percy, or as socially competent as Ginny. The only thing that made Ron stand out from his huge family was his height. He was taller than every one of the other Weasleys, even though he was "the baby". Ginny, being the only girl, was always a little separated from the Weasley boys, so Ron was considered "the baby" even though he technically wasn't.

But even though he was picked on, laughed at, and sometimes ignored, Ron never felt alone because he had Harry. Ron knew that Harry didn't consider him a lifeline like Ron considered Harry, but he didn't care. Harry was someone that Ron could look after and that would look after Ron, even if Harry didn't even know it yet…

When Ron saw how Hermione looked at Harry, by what Harry had told him about how Hermione had "accidentally" knocked over the table when his aunt was bullying Harry, and how she had reacted when Ron and Harry both put themselves in danger for her, Ron knew that Hermione Granger was going to be his and Harry's friend. After all, there were certain things that you couldn't go through together without becoming friends, and saving each other from a raging, thundering stallion was one of them.

Please R/R. (: Danke.

The Author has a Note for You All… Here it is: Sorry about the delay, guys. If you have any questions, please ask. And by the way, this story does have an actual storyline. I'm just trying to get the "foundation chapters" over with. This one is to set up the whole "Golden Trio" thing.