Disclaimer: Obviously, I didn't write the Harry Potter series. J.K. Rowling is responsible for those masterpieces, and I will always worship her for it. Please don't sue me. I'm already poor and all you'd get from me is a fifteen year-old TV, a futon and some clothes that fit me better than you. The only way you would get my computer is by prying it from my cold, dead fingers.
A/N: Okay, first: Thanks, my precious readers, for bearing with me through Chapters 12 and 13 with the confusing rearrangements I did. Now, I've been getting several reviews asking about the plot, and I suppose it's high time for some clarification.
This is a summer fic, as I don't really need to point out to you, but part of the problem with summers in Harry's world is it is obviously very hard to keep him in the loop. A lot of the plot is happening outside Harry's sphere of awareness, and I've been having a difficult time feeding little details and hints into the story. Another problem is that "details and hints" aren't all that exciting for people who really want plot twists and turns. Sorry; I'm still very new to story writing, and I've been working hard to develop relationships, pull Harry out of his depression, and better prepare him for the future he must face, which has made it even more difficult to maintain an interesting, main plot in this fic. However, I think it will all work out in the end…which isn't too far off. I'm going to stop talking about this now, because somehow I'm confusing myself…
To all you well-wishers out there, thank you. My grandmother is doing alright considering, but the treatment takes a lot out of her. I'm usually not one to discuss my problems or family matters to anyone, even my friends, but I guess everyone has to vent once and awhile. You have all been so kind and supportive, though, and I just wanted to take a moment to say thanks. So, thanks!
Review responses!
Omagic: Don't worry about not reviewing every single chapter. I know you're working hard on your story, and I'm happy to trade a review or two for a FoL update. Thank you for the editing commendation—I've always been kind of obsessive about grammar and spelling, and I try to read through every chapter several times to make sure it flows. What you (and your reviewer) had to say about plot development was very true; I'm working on it. As for Occlumency, I hate it when fics have Harry somehow master it immediately. Obviously, Harry had such a hard time with it in the fifth book because he still had a lot of issues and problems to deal with. I don't think Occlumency will ever be easy for Harry, but I think he will learn to use it more and more as he begins to sort through all the pain and confusion of his past (not to mention fear for the future). Did that make sense? Can't say anything yet about Snape and his status with Voldemort, but I'll tell you I have plans to reveal my take on that later. And review number three: the dreaded plot issues again. I'm working on those twists and turns—if all goes according to plan, chapter 15 should have some. Perhaps not what you were looking for, but I'm trying!
Wiccan PussyKat: I wanted to make Vernon think Harry orchestrated the whole thing, believe me, but in the end there was just no way to work that out. As for a certain dubious character you mentioned in your review (don't want to give anything away to other readers who haven't guessed), I must say you make me feel very unoriginal when you guess correctly. Grrr! If you don't stop, people are going to think I'm stealing YOUR ideas! Just kidding, I'm not angry—just amused. Heather…okay, I really don't like OCs either. Don't know how she ever got into the story…I think she just wrote herself in. Some people like her, some people hate her, and some don't care. I basically keep her because Harry needs to be able act normal for a bit. The outfits were definitely left by Petunia, sorry to disappoint, but she has to do something besides ignore his existence to prove that she is treating him decently, or else she won't get the big payoff in the end. If you were Dumbledore and you saw Harry looking malnourished and dressed in huge rags, would you pay her? (even though Harry's already said he'll pay them in the end, but Petunia doesn't know that yet.) Thanks for correcting me on "nutters". I try not to sound like a stupid American, but I usually fail miserably ;P If you have any Britishisms to offer that you think I could use in the future, please, pretty-please let me know. Thanks for the popsicles!
Von: Stop; you're making me blush! I love teacher Harry too. I might just find a way to get him the position/a position. We'll see. Kind of harsh on Umbridge, aren't you? (Yeah right, like anyone could possibly hate the old toad enough.) I have plans for her and Harry's appeal, but that might be a long wait. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Chipper1: I understood both reviews, and was very flattered by them. Best post-OotP fic?! Thanks! There will be a little bit of Ron, Hermy, and Ginny in the summer, and a lot more in the sequel about sixth year (obviously). Hopefully I can spice things up before the summer gets boring, because I agree with you on the "summer of nothingness" theory. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm ecstatic to have you reading!
LunaShadows: The mystery of Duddykins is about to be solved. The answer to your question, since I'm too tired to complain about people guessing correctly about the storylines, is yes. Thanks for reading!
Tansy1354: Don't feel bad; lots of people didn't review Chapter 12, which is my fault. I posted it, then decided to change some things and ended up with two chapters in its place. Now why is it that people still try to find ways to feel sorry for the Dursleys? They're mean! I'm glad you liked the dream—poor Harry really did need his sleep after all that dratted Occlumency. Thank you for your sensitivity and support—it is greatly appreciated.
Ootp-rules: Thanks for the wake-up call about the chapter endings. I had sort of noticed it myself, but hadn't realized just how bad I was getting. No more ending chapters with sleeping! (If I can help it!) Don't worry about martial arts taking over Hogwarts, I'm not going to turn HP into the Matrix or anything. The point I was trying to get across is that some situations require physical combat as much as magical, and the D.A. might benefit in teaching it a little. As a student of Tae Kwon Do, I know martial arts can't be mastered in a year, and aren't just about fighting. Hogwarts students have enough on their plates learning magic; they would never have time to become Karate Kids, or a trainer, for that matter. Thanks again for your insight—I'm glad to have you reading as your reviews give me good advice.
Thank you for reading and reviewing: DiggaDigga, Jarvey, gaul1, Juliemarthe, sammy, jbfritz, Siriuslyfun19212, elvin-warrior-princess, Daisy, panuru4u, szer, Kristen, Mooncinder, and DeathWynd.
Chapter 14: Boys of Summer
Harry took a risk the next morning by eating breakfast with the Dursleys. They had returned home with Dudley several hours after he had gone to sleep the night before, but he had woken up when Dudley's massive weight shook the house as he stomped upstairs.
So far, breakfast had been an abnormally quiet affair, even with Harry at the table. He hoped the Dursleys would start talking soon, for he desperately wanted to hear more about his cousin's escapade last night. Keeping true to the Dursley tradition of always doing the opposite of what Harry wanted, they remained dead silent. Every once in awhile, though, Dudley would flash an angry look at his parents and a venomous glare at his cousin before bowing his head and going back to the busy chore of stuffing his face.
Still not a word had been uttered by the time he finished his bowl of cereal, or even after he nursed his glass of orange juice for ten minutes more. His uncle stood up with his briefcase in hand and left for work with no more than a 'goodbye' to his wife and son. It was obvious that no one in the Dursley household wanted him to know about the incident, so he put away his dishes and walked back upstairs. When he reached his room, he opened the door, but instead of going in, shut the door and walked back to the top of the stairs. Sure enough, Dudley began whining the moment he thought Harry was out of hearing range.
"It's not fair! I didn't do anything wrong!"
"I know, Diddydums. I'm so sorry this is happening, but it will all be over soon. That nasty boy is just spreading lies, and they're sure to see that at the hearing next week—"
"THEN WHY CAN'T I GO TO PIERS' HOUSE?" Dudley yelled, as if he was being done a great injustice.
Petunia was weeping loudly again. "Y-y-you heard…" there was a pause as she blew her nose wetly. "…The officer s-said you are on (sniffle) h-h-house arrest (sob) until the hearing!" She finished quickly, so as to resume her wailing uninterrupted.
"IT'S—NOT—FAIR!" Dudley cried, emphasizing each word by throwing a breakfast dish to the floor. A few shattered, but the sound of his cereal bowl rotating noisily on the floor offset Petunia's sobs for a minute before settling with a thud.
Suddenly, Dudley was pounding up the stairs with more fervor than Harry could ever recall. A picture frame somewhere downstairs came off its hook from the quaking of the walls and broke. Harry realized too late that he wouldn't make it back to his room before his cousin reached the top. Sure enough, he was just turning the knob when a flabby fist grabbed the back of his shirt and shoved him up against the wall.
"Bet you thought that was a barrel of laughs didn't you?" his cousin said furiously. His face was so tight with anger that his eyes were pinched between the chubby flesh of his cheeks and forehead.
Harry, unlike Dudley, had matured significantly since the years in which he had served as his cousin's punching bag. He was no longer afraid of him, but he was also not stupid. Dudley, as oafish and large as he was, could easily knock him out with one good punch as long as he had him cornered.
"Don't know what you're talking about. I was just coming back from the loo," he replied, trying to look surprised at the assault.
The fist gripping Harry's shirt shook with the force Dudley's fury. "How daft do you think I am, Potter?" he snarled, bared teeth giving him the appearance of a very angry warthog.
Harry would have liked very much to answer, but figured it was more of a rhetorical question. Instead, he surreptitiously drew his wand from the pocket of his shorts and lightly tapped his cousin's offending arm. Dudley jumped back as if electrocuted, fear erasing every trace of rage from his fat face. Flabby arms struggled to wrap around a bloated torso so his hands could protect his behind.
"Now that's settled, I really must be going. I've been studying really hard to learn the spell for transforming a normal person into a wizard. Just about got it down, too. Would you like to help me practice?" he asked seriously.
"Y-you're lying," Dudley said uncertainly. "There's no way to turn people into freaks like you."
Harry smiled and tilted his head sympathetically. "Come now, Big D, would I lie to you?" He didn't wait for a reply before entering his room and leaving his cousin, still glaring and clutching his buttocks, alone in the hallway.
As the door closed, however, Dudley surprised him by having the temerity to speak back to him. "You must think things are going really well for you, freak, but don't get too comfortable," he said menacingly. "I'd watch my back if I were you."
Leaning against the wall in his room, Harry felt a bit puzzled. He was used the occasional "I'll tell Dad!" or "I'll hit you!", but Dudley sounded like he actually planned to deliver on this vague threat. Perhaps threat was too strong a word, though. This was Dudley he was considering, after all.
…
Heather was floating lazily in the pool on a blow-up raft when Harry arrived that afternoon. She sat up and waved when she saw him, but the sudden imbalance caused the raft to cave in and spill her into the water. Taking advantage of the moment, he slipped out of his T-shirt and wrapped his wand, the Dursleys' spare key, and the pocketknife and small canister of pepper spray Heather had given him in its folds. He couldn't help but laugh when Heather resurfaced with mascara smeared under her eyes, hand clutching her sunglasses and the waterlogged magazine she had been reading. She laughed good-naturedly at her own clumsiness, then threw the soaked magazine at him. Years of quidditch practice had honed his reflexes and he dodged it with ease, much to Heather's frustration.
"Serves you right, lying around the pool all day while—"
Whatever Harry had been about to say was cut off when a pair of strong hands shoved him from behind. He teetered precariously on the edge of the pool before gravity won out and he belly-flopped gracelessly into the sparkling water. When he surfaced, spluttering and pushing at the mop of hair plastered to his face, all he could see was a blurry, tall, brown-haired figure. There was a splash next to him as Heather's head emerged from the water. She slipped his recovered glasses onto his face, and he could see clearly again, aside from the droplets of water still clinging to the lenses.
"Justin?"
"Hiya, Harry. Nice trunks you got there," he said with a smirk.
Harry smiled but could feel his face redden.
"Oh, leave him alone you prat!" Heather laughed. "I told him it would be alright if he borrowed them."
"I was joking! They look better on you anyway, mate."
It felt surreal to see Justin in Privet Drive. The only other time a schoolmate had come around to Harry's summer residence was when Ron and his family had come to pick him up for the Quidditch World Cup, and that experience had been just plain bizarre. It didn't help that he didn't know quite how to act around the Hufflepuff when it was only the two of them and Justin's muggle girlfriend hanging out. In addition, Harry still held a slight grudge against him for believing he was Slytherin's heir in second year and for being so cold to him in fourth year when he was named a Triwizard Champion alongside Cedric. They had gotten along well in the D.A., though, and he supposed Justin deserved another chance now that they knew each other better.
After Justin helped fish Harry and Heather out of the pool, they each took a seat around the table on the deck. More accurately, Harry and Justin took seats and Heather plopped down wetly on her boyfriend's lap.
Not knowing quite how to start a conversation with Justin, Harry blurted the first thing that came to his mind. "So what are you doing here today?" He could have kicked himself as soon as the words came out.
Justin's eyebrows quirked a bit at the blunt question before grinning lopsidedly. "Well, I was hoping to get some alone-time with my favorite girlfriend while her mum was out today, but it looks like that might not work out quite like I planned…"
"Don't listen to him, Harry," Heather said, rolling her eyes. "I told him on the phone last night that you'd be here today, and he wanted to hang out with us."
"Oh, er—well, it's good to see you Justin. How's your summer been so far?" he asked.
A dark look passed fleetingly over Justin's face. "Alright, I suppose. Yours?"
Harry shrugged and waved his hand in a "so-so" motion. The Hufflepuff nodded thoughtfully. A moment of awkward silence passed between them, and Harry searched furiously for a muggle-appropriate conversation topic.
"Oh!" Justin exclaimed, jerking up a little straighter in his seat and jolting Heather, who had been examining her fingernails. "How did you do on your O.W.—um, your end of year exams?" he asked conspiratorially.
"I got two Os, four Es, an A, a P, and a T. How about you?"
"Three Os, two Es, three As, and a D. I suppose one of your Os was in Defense Ag—Defense class. What was the T in, though?" Justin inquired.
Harry glanced at Heather, who was watching them talk with only slight interest. "Er…Astrology," he answered carefully.
That got Heather's attention. "St. Brutus' has an Astrology class?" she interjected, her voice filled with wonder and suspicion.
"Sure it does, Sweetie. We may be brutes at dear old St. Brutus', but that doesn't mean we aren't in touch with the universe and the powers of the zodiac," Justin lied with ease.
Her eyes lit up. "Cool! Can you give me my horoscope? No wait, tell me what the zodiac says about you and me."
Justin looked stumped. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you're a...umm…oh, Capricorn, that's right, and I'm a Sagittarius. How do our signs interact?" she questioned eagerly.
The look Justin gave her suggested he had just realized she was fairly mental. Instead of answering, he patted the top of her wet head and turned back to Harry. Heather turned in her boyfriend's lap to face him and stuck her tongue out childishly.
"So Harry, have you been practicing a lot this summer? Your team's really going to need you next year after all the players you've lost lately."
Before Harry could worry about the complications of trying to discuss quidditch around a muggle without giving away the nature of the game, Heather stood up.
"Ugh. Boys and their games. Talking about exams and grades on a beautiful summer day like this is bad enough. Honestly, I expected much worse behavior from you two," she clucked in disappointment. "Sports are where I draw the line. I'm going in to fix some lunch."
"The quickest way to scare Heather off is to talk sports." Justin explained as soon as she was out of hearing range.
Harry grinned. "That's very sneaky for a Hufflepuff."
"Funny you should say that. Can you keep a secret?"
"Sure," Harry replied, intrigued.
Justin leaned in as if worried someone was listening in on them. "The Sorting Hat considered putting me in Slytherin."
Harry couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, startling the Hufflepuff. "What? What's so funny?" Justin asked.
"Can you keep a secret?" said Harry, still sniggering.
He watched in amusement as realization dawned on the other boy. His eyebrows rose up slowly and his chin dropped, leaving his mouth in the shape of a perfect "O". "You're not serious?!" he gasped.
"I am."
It was Justin's turn to laugh. "That's…bloody hilarious! The Golden Boy of Gryffindor, Triwizard Champion, Boy-Who-Lived—almost a Slytherin! Good thing nobody knew back in our second year; we all thought you were the heir of Slytherin then even when we took for granted you belonged in Gryffindor. Can you imagine how much more terrified everyone would have been?" he asked with a chuckle.
Thinking back to that time, however, Harry didn't find it all that funny. The whole school had hated him then, Justin included, and at twelve years old it had felt painfully similar to his days in muggle primary school when Dudley's gang had scared off any potential friends. He grimaced at the memory.
Justin realized his error and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand to punish himself. "Sorry Harry. That was a stupid thing to say. I was a prat back then...and in fourth year too. Hell, I'm still a prat, but I'm trying to get better," he asked repentantly.
"S'okay. You weren't the only one who thought I was evil or trying to steal the limelight then." Harry said softly.
"Still doesn't make it right," the Hufflepuff said ashamedly.
Harry shrugged. "We didn't know each other well back then. Hopefully after working together in the D.A., people will be less likely to believe some of the rumors they hear."
Justin cheered up a bit at that. "So you're going to continue it when we get back to Hogwarts, right?"
"Yeah, I suppose so."
"Great! With Dumbledore back and all, we won't even have to have the meetings in secret anymore…actually, that's too bad. I kind of got a kick out of rebelling against Umbridge."
Defying the old hag had given Harry a rush as well, but it was certainly the only good memory he had of her. Before he could contribute to the Umbridge-bashing, Heather returned, balancing a platter of food on one open hand like a seasoned waitress.
"Hey, did you guys hear about Mark Evans?" she asked, setting the tray of cheese cubes, crackers and sliced fruit on the table.
"No, what happened to him?" Harry remembered the boy as one of Dudley's victims from last year.
"Well, Mum got a gossip call this morning from a friend who has a friend who's a nurse at St. Andrew's Hospital, and she said that Mark was in last night to be treated for a broken arm and a concussion. Apparently he was attacked or something. Poor kid's only eleven…Mum said the police were at the hospital to make a report and everything."
Harry winced. He could relate to Mark Evans; it wasn't so long ago he had been the local outcast. Word had it that the neighborhood thought Mark was the strangest resident of Privet Drive since "that Potter boy", and was therefore a magnet for bullying just as Harry had been. Luckily, he had never received a bad enough beating to warrant a trip to the hospital, because the Dursleys probably wouldn't have taken him anyway. Wait—Dursleys…police report…
Suddenly it all fell into place. "So that's what Dudley was arrested for!"
"What?—" Heather exclaimed.
"Who?—" Justin asked.
He took the next few minutes to relate the story of his cousin's unhappy encounter with the law.
"Oooh, next time I see that tub of lard, I'm going to make him cry," Heather bristled.
"That sounds wonderful, but your not even a third of his size," Harry reminded.
"No, I meant I'll get him with my tear gas," she clarified. Popping a cube of cheddar cheese into her mouth, she added, "Then I'll have Mark Evans come over and give him a taste of his own medicine."
…
The three were deeply engrossed in a terrifying muggle movie about a werewolf running rampant in Paris when Mr. Gaines came home from work. Heather's father spared a disapproving glance at the boys sitting aside his daughter and shook his head disapprovingly. Heather excused herself from the couch and stomped up to her disgruntled father. The two began speaking in low, harsh tones. However, they hadn't left the room and the two boys were able to catch the tail end of the argument.
"And you wonder why we send you to an all girls' school. Do you know what these boys want? I've told you before and I'll tell you again—they're all after one thing."
Harry's jaw dropped and Justin bowed his head with a guilty expression on his face. Heather snorted and threw her hands up in a "not this lecture again" expression.
Thinking of nothing but escaping before the conversation could become any more embarrassing, Harry suddenly cried, "Oh no!" Everyone turned and looked at him in surprise. Too late, he realized he hadn't yet thought of a polite excuse to give before making his exit. Instead, he stood there opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, waiting for an idea to hit with everybody staring at him.
Fortunately, Justin caught on. After angling himself so that Harry served as a human shield for him against Mr. Gaines, he supplied, "Right, Harry! It's about time for…er…dinner! We should be going." Harry closed his mouth with a slap and nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
Heather glared at them. "Fine. See you later, then," she said stiffly, before returning to the argument with her father. As the door shut out the shouting behind them, Harry and Justin shared looks of relief and let out the breaths they had been holding.
"I suppose I'll see you, then," said Harry.
"Yeah. I'll have Heather give you my phone number in case you want to call. I tried to send you a letter about the D.A. at the beginning of summer, but for some reason my owl can't deliver to your house."
"That would be the wards," Harry sighed. "Come to think of it, I don't know if it's safe for you to walk home from here in the dark," he said, remembering Bellatrix's visit.
"Oh, please. I'm a big boy, Harry. Anyway, doesn't look like I have much choice," Justin replied.
As if on cue, Harry spotted a familiar old woman hobbling along the pavement a block away.
"Just a minute," he told the Hufflepuff.
Tonks saw him coming and tottered toward him. "Wotcher Harry! Who's your friend there?"
"Hey Tonks," he greeted. "That's a friend from school—Justin. I was actually wondering if you could help us out. Justin lives out on Chrysanthemum Drive, and I reckon it's probably not a good idea for him to walk home alone at night with the Death Eaters lurking about and all…"
Tonks' old lady face crinkled in a pained wince. "I don't know, Harry. I'm not supposed to leave you alone, even for a few minutes."
"But I'm inside the wards; I'll be fine! Justin could come across a Death Eater on the way home, and he'd be completely on his own!" Harry argued.
The Auror looked torn. She looked from Harry's determined face to Justin, who was walking their way looking very confused. "Alright, I'll walk him home, but only if you promise to go straight back to the Dursleys and stay there until I get back," she conceded.
Harry agreed immediately, and introduced Tonks to Justin, who had just caught up. The metamorphmagus nearly scared Justin out of his wits when she squeezed her eyes shut and changed back to her true form mid-handshake. He got over it soon, though, and Harry could hear him assaulting her with requests to change into the prime minister, Cindy Crawford, and a number of other people as they began the walk to his house.
…
True to his word, Harry hurriedly made his way back to the Dursleys. He was passing by Number 6 when he first got the feeling he was being watched. Sure enough, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye as something or someone crept out from behind the hedge. Reaching for his wand, but not drawing it, Harry spun around to face his stalker.
Piers Polkiss, his cousin's right-hand thug, strode toward him arrogantly, wearing an unpleasant grin. He threw his hands up in mock-surrender. "Damn, you caught me!" he declared.
"What do you want?" Harry asked with annoyance. Piers didn't scare him, but he still didn't think it wise to turn his back on him.
"Is that any way to treat an old friend?" sneered the rat-faced teen. "You know, it's been quite awhile since you came to play with Big D and me. We have a lot of catching up to do." He stalked up to Harry, stopping inches from his face. Harry stood his ground, but was forced to look up several inches to meet Piers' glare.
All of a sudden, Piers grabbed him by his right arm and yelled, "You can come out; he's not getting away now!" Harry struggled to jerk his arm away, but the other boy was simply too strong. Emerging from the same shrubs Piers had been hiding behind came four other large boys from Dudley's gang.
Too bad I made Tonks leave with Justin, Harry lamented as Piers and his friends gathered eagerly around him.
…
A/N: This is my attempt at a cliffhanger, and also to end a chapter without Harry going to sleep for once. The next update might take a few days longer, because I'll be spending four days up at my friend's summer house at a lake up in Michigan for her big 20th birthday bash. There are no computers, or even phones up there, and I doubt I'll be writing by hand when there are jet skis to ride and hot dogs to roast over a bonfire with my good friends. Sorry! I'll make it up to you!