Dear all, bow before Provis! He will be going through this fic, chapter by chapter, and identifying the ghastly mistakes I've been making in spelling and such. So many thanks to Provis for his time and help!
In other news, update day!
.
~~HP~~
.
The Weasleys stayed sitting in the Grimmauld place dining room after the other Order members had slowly shuffled out. The Order had spent the last hour discussing the battle and generally focusing on what they couldn't change rather than what had gone wrong until Harry was ready to pull his hair out. The battle had almost gotten Ron and Bill killed, it had gotten four of his people killed and two of the Order. Harry pushed himself out of his chair, not bothering to hide his wince from the family.
"Well, that meeting was useless," Fred grumbled.
Harry shot a sympathetic smile at him, agreeing as he stood up.
"They could have at least talked about what happened to Bill," Ginny said.
"No, Harry, stay here," Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing him back to his seat, "we need to have a family conversation."
Harry glanced around the table, unsure what to do.
"Come on," Charlie said, nodding to him, "if you go back to Hogwarts Pomfrey will only throw you back in the infirmary anyway,"
Harry sat slowly, agreeing.
Mrs. Weasley nodded to him, struggling to smile before she dropped it. Her face was tense with worry and Harry glanced around the table, seeing similar expressions.
"Is Fenrir still alive?" Harry asked quietly.
"No, Bill said he killed him," Fred said simply.
"He was defending me," Mrs. Weasley said quietly, moving her head up to stare out of the bay window at the back of the room.
"You did nothing wrong," Mr. Weasley insisted, resting a hand over one of hers.
"Hippogriff's waste," Mrs. Weasley hissed, her face tense as she stared out of the window.
She cursed, Harry thought, suppressing his reaction even as he saw the others blink in surprise.
"Mum, it's no one's fault," George said carefully.
"I can't attack my own children, I just can't," she insisted, shaking her head.
"Mum-" Charlie started. Harry saw Fred shoot him a warning look and Charlie quieted.
"Let's get down to business," she said, sighing heavily and visibly gathering herself together before bringing her eyes back to the table.
"Do we have anything in savings?" Ginny asked quietly.
Mr. Weasley shook his head.
"1,000," He said.
"I've got another 300 saved away," Charlie said. "Bill has two hundred, he told me before we left for here,"
They lost their house, Harry remembered, feeling his eyes widen.
"Look, we'll be okay. George and I can sell the shop, and that'll come out to 3,000 at the least," Fred said, laying his hands on the table heavily.
"You'll do no such thing!" Mrs. Weasley barked, glaring at them heavily.
Fred stopped, blinking and staring at her.
"Mum-"
"I don't like the shop as you know, I think it's dangerous, but you make good, safe, products for kids and you've done it all by yourselves and –" Mrs. Weasley babbled.
"Mum-"
"There's not a mum in the world who wouldn't be proud of that!" She interrupted, almost defensively.
"Mum, we don't have much choice here," George said, flashing a glance at Fred.
"We'll find a way!" Mr. Weasley said firmly, "we always have done,"
The table went still in thought as the family quieted, looking at each other carefully.
"I can drop out of school," Ginny said firmly.
Mrs. Weasley whipped her head around, looking livid.
"Just for a while," Ginny said, shaking her head, "I can always go back,"
And they'll refuse anything from me, Harry said, glancing around and sighing.
How many families has this happened to?, Harry wondered suddenly, cursing himself for never thinking of it before. He'd watched Voldemort burn down dozens of homes, and he'd exploded them himself for the sake of a battle.
The war is tearing the country apart. People can't afford to restart after they lose everything they own. We may win this war and gain a destroyed country. If people get poor enough they'll get desperate, and desperate people break the law. No wonder the Ministry is riddled with embezzlement and corruption, people think they can't afford any different.
And so I pretend what I'm doing again, Harry decided, tuning back into the conversation.
"And what do you plan to do, Mum? You have to take one of our options or think of another," Fred was saying. "We can't buy a home with 1,000. Or even 1,500 with Charlie and Bill's help. We can't even rent something big enough for that."
Mrs. Weasley sighed and ran her hands through her hair.
"We can't have you and George selling the shop," she said.
Ginny had barely opened her mouth before Mrs. Weasley had silenced her with a glare.
"No, you're not dropping out of school," she said firmly, "I'll take a job,"
"I'll take another one," Mr. Weasley said, nodding, "we'll make it work."
"There is another option," Harry said, leaning forward. "I know of a charity that grants financing options for fighters in the war whose homes have been destroyed."
Name, name, need a name.
"Do you mean Home-from-the-Front? I've heard of them," Ginny said, leaning to face him.
Ginny, you're perfect, Harry thought, nodding seriously.
"H.F.T.F tried to get started during the first war and failed, but apparently it's up and working now," Harry lied.
"What is this charity?" Fred asked, sounding hopeful.
"It just replaces homes," Harry said, "I don't know much about it but apparently you send them a list of the best situation you can think of, and they work from there with what they can afford."
"Whose 'them'?" Mr. Weasley asked, sounding suspicious.
"Again I don't know, I just have a friend who was talking about it. He works there," Harry said.
"Why haven't we heard of this?," Mrs. Weasley asked, though she looked hopeful.
"I think it mostly works within the Ministry families, but I'm sure you will qualify," Harry said, "send me a list of what you had and what you'd want, I'll handle the rest of it and with luck they can help,"
"Oh Merlin," Mrs. Weasley said with relief, nodding.
"Alright, we'll do it," Mr. Weasley said, glancing at Harry before he returned his gaze to Mrs. Weasley.
"Okay, just send me the list," Harry said, nodding. He looked over to see Ginny struggling to smile at him before giving up and blinking at the table.
"Alright, so now we discuss where we stay until we find out if that Home-From-The-Front can help us." Charlie said.
Aand, problem number two presents itself; a place for the recruits.
"I'm going to be buying a large place for keeping recruits. You can crash there," Harry offered.
"How large are you talking?" Fred asked, glancing around the group.
"A mansion with ballrooms big enough for training sessions," Harry replied.
George whistled, sounding impressed.
"That would work," Fred said, laughing.
"When would you be getting this?" Mr. Weasley asked, taking his spectacles from his face to wipe them clean quickly.
They need a place to go now.
"As soon as we leave here, presumably," Harry said.
As if I knew how the hell to go about doing that.
"You're awfully young to be buying a house, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, shaking her head softly.
"Would you tell me where to start?" Harry asked, ignoring the protest.
"Well, of course I would Harry but I'm saying you should probably wait to consider the whole thing," She said.
"The war is bigger than Grimmauld place and I have the money to spare," Harry replied, shaking his head. "I just need to know where to start."
"There's a section in the Daily Prophet for the bigger homes," Charlie said.
"Alright," Harry nodded. "That'll probably do it,"
"No one's buying homes right now, you'll probably get it cheap," George added.
"Alright, I'll go do that now. I'll find you to take you all there as soon as possible," Harry said, standing up, wincing as his bandaged back rubbed lightly against the chair.
"It'll take weeks in the bargaining," Charlie said, shaking his head.
"No it won't," Harry replied firmly.
"How precisely-" Mr. Weasley started, before stopping, shaking his head.
"I should go do that," Harry said, turning toward the door.
"Hey wait now," Mrs. Weasley called, stopping him and turning him toward her. "Thank you so much for everything today dear, you've been a real blessing to us," Mrs. Weasley said, standing up with him to walk over and place a hand around his cheek.
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, trying to hide his awkwardness as he returned her hug and apparated out.
He went first to his dormitory where Hedwig dropped his copies of the Daily Prophet. It was short work to find the right section, and he picked the home with the largest square feet and boasted ballrooms and wrote a letter to the Real Estate Agent requesting the home. He included a Gringott's check for the 4 million galleons and wrote a note for himself under his Gringott's report of 30 million galleons that he'd spent four of them.
He sat back on his bed, rubbing his face lightly to wake himself up before he grabbed for his textbook. His arm had barely reached out in front of him before he caught the wave of stench that rose off of him.
Oh man, Harry thought, realizing he hadn't gotten a moment to shower from the battle yet. He was still covered in dried sweat, dirt and the blue powder the Flintstones rubbed off on his hands. Harry pulled a hand up to touch his hair and grimaced again, feeling the grease and dirt caked into it.
He put down his textbook and jogged toward the Griffindor showers.
Harry looked at the shower head and winced, knowing how much the pounding water would sting in his back. He'd thrown out his bloody bandages, knowing he'd have to get them replaced after he'd gotten clean, and his back stung worse already from releasing the bandages' pressure. He wasn't quite sure how to thank Pomfrey enough for the bandages that hadn't pulled on his fresh wounds as he'd removed them.
Pomfrey must have cleaned the blood off, Harry thought, staring at his filthy but not bloody body. He transfigured himself a bucket, and barely glanced at it before he realized how much more time a bucket shower would take. The Weasleys were waiting for a home, and he'd done nothing of studying that day. He turned on the shower's cool water and clenched his teeth before he entered the stream.
~~HP~~
Hedwig hadn't yet returned when he'd gotten back to his dormitory and replaced his clothing. He grabbed Dudley's letter out of his robes pocket and brought it with him, figuring he'd read while Madam Pomfrey re-strangled him with bandages around his back and chest.
He went down to the infirmary quickly and pulled open the door to find the Weasley again gathered around Ron and Bill. Harry looked around for Madam Pomfrey and found her already heading for him from her office.
"Hello Harry," she called calmly.
"I took a shower," Harry said.
"Ah, good, and well done returning to replace the bandages. Go sit there on the bed next to Bill Weasley, I'll be there in a minute," Madam Pomfrey said, waving him toward where the Weasleys were gathered.
"Welcome back," Bill said from where he lay as Harry sat down on the other cot and stripped off his shirt.
"How are you doing?" Harry asked, opening the letter in his hands mechanically.
"I'm alive but apparently Fenrir got to me," Bill said.
Yeah, shit, Harry thought, looking over the lightly bandaged wounds on the man's face.
"What does that mean then?" Harry asked, putting the letter aside as the rest of the Weasleys went quiet.
"We don't know yet. Lupin came and pretty much just said it'll depend on a lot. I could have no effects, i could just start growing more hair around the full moon, I could be a werewolf now. It wasn't the full moon when I was slashed so it's an isolated case."
"Shit," Harry said, automatically raising his arms as Pomfrey neared him, her hands full of salves and bandages.
"Regardless, I'm better than Ron," Bill said, leaning over slightly to gaze at where Ron lay behind Harry.
"How bad is he?" Harry asked quietly.
"He'll live, he'll be scarred on his upper torso and arms, and for some reason his hair will likely never grow longer than it is now," Bill said.
Harry felt himself pale.
"Shit," he muttered to himself.
"What does that mean?" Bill asked, sounding worried.
"It means the spell affected his G.M.I,"
"Meaning?" Bill pressed.
Harry glanced at him and sighed, glad the other Weasleys were talking around Ron too loudly to hear.
"It means he probably caught the effects of a killing curse going through someone else," Harry said.
"Holy shit." Bill breathed.
"Why was he even there?" Harry asked.
"McGonagall made the mistake of telling him about the battle before it was done. She said he ran through her floo before she had the chance to grab him, straight into the burning Burrow. How he got out or how long he fought isn't certain. Tonks saw you with him on the ground, figured he was truly Ron, and managed to heal him just enough to keep him alive until the battle was done and he could be taken here." Bill answered.
"Wow," Harry replied, nodding slowly as Mrs. Weasley walked past him toward Ron.
Brave but stupid, Ron.
"McGonagall disappeared for the day, said she needed the day to pray, whatever that meant," Bill said, "it seems everyone we know is going muggle Christian, doesn't it?"
He knows about Snape?, Harry thought, barely able to believe the man had said anything about the subject willingly.
"Joss and Malinda too," Bill said, shrugging. "I don't know what they see in it,"
Harry sighed.
"I'm not sure I do either," he said honestly.
Harry looked over to see Mrs. Weasley standing over Ron's cot, pushing his hair from his eyes lightly, her eyes tense with worry.
"He's alright, Mrs. Weasley, it's just a healing sleep," Harry said to her as Madam Pomfrey began applying the stinging salve over his burns.
"I know," she replied.
"Doesn't that sting?" Fleur said loudly, pulling Harry's attention over to where she stood with Fred and George, watching Madam Pomfrey carefully wiping a rough finger over his broken skin.
Harry looked over to the half-veela and nodded as he kept his arms over his head.
"Yes," he replied.
"Hold up your hair," Madam Pomfrey ordered and Harry pulled his hand over his back, gathering up his growing hair and holding it off his back.
"It smells," Fleur said, grimacing at the jar of salve on the bedside table at Madam Pomfrey's elbow.
"Who drop-kicked a skunk?" Ginny asked, climbing carefully onto Bill's bed.
"It's the mephitis leaves in it," Madam Pomfrey replied easily as she started wrapping the bandages tightly around Harry's torso and back.
"The what?" Ginny asked, starting to slowly unwrap a bandage from Bill's arm.
"Skunk cabbage," Madam Pomfrey answered. Ginny grinned and nodded.
"That would do it," she said.
Harry took in a deep breath of the stench, ignoring it.
"Didn't notice?" Madam Pomfrey asked, looking concerned.
"I did. I just wasn't thinking about it," Harry replied honestly, watching her.
"Okay, arms down, you're done," Madam Pomfrey said.
"Thank you," Harry replied, pulling his arms down and picking up his shirt.
"No," Madam Pomfrey said quickly, touching his arm to still him. "Don't wear a shirt over your bandages until I tell you to," she ordered.
"Yes Ma'am," Harry agreed quickly, picking up Dudley's letter again.
"How the house thing coming?" Ginny asked.
"I bought one but I haven't gotten a response from the dealer yet," Harry replied absently as he unfolded the letter.
Dear Harry,
We are all tense, but happier. Mum has started her own garden now so we can have carrots about three times a week. I hate them, but I eat them anyway. Dad got a new job, which he's been spending a lot of time with and he likes the stress. I wish you would come visit but Mum and Dad said it's a bad idea because the neighbors would see and they think you're dangerous and mean. I think you can help Mum with her carrots, but I know you are very busy. You don't have to visit if you don't want to. I'll be okay. I go to the park on walks with Mum and she takes me to Karate.
Dudley
God he talks about carrots a lot.
Harry felt the blood sink out of his face and chest and hands. He lowered his hand with the letter away from his face and burned it in his hand absently.
He talks about carrots a lot. God damn.
Harry jumped off of his cot and ran for the door, slamming it open and barely waiting for it to shut, to be out of sight before he apparated out and into Privet Drive.
I'm a fool, I'm a fool, I'm a fool
He didn't wait to see if any muggle children in the park or street saw him appear from nowhere. He ran straight towards the Dursley's house, up their prim driveway and blasted open their green newly-painted door.
Petunia screamed in the kitchen and Harry spotted Vernon Dursley getting up from his armchair in the living room, already preparing to shout as the front door smacked against the door and shut itself with a softer click. Petunia pressed herself back into the kitchen counter behind her, staring at Harry with wide, panicked eyes.
Harry stunned Vernon easily and let him fall back into his armchair awkewardly.
Harry walked up to Vernon swiftly and squatted in front of the chair, staring into Vernon's scared squinting eyes.
"Now I'm going to talk to your family about how you've been treating them and we'll see how this goes," Harry said easily. Vernon's face slowly went slack and drained of all its color and Harry nodded firmly, taking the time to breathe and calm down.
What am I planning?, Harry wondered as he watched Vernon's face. I can't make them leave, the wards will die.
I don't need the blood wards, Harry told himself, glancing around the wall's hideous collage of pictures of Dudley. So they abuse the boy and celebrate him at the same time. Pleasant.
And I need to sacrifice anything for the war and the wards could help me. That never meant sacrificing a family to abuse for it. But if I have to? What extent can 'necessary' be taken to? Is there a limit?
Shit.
So I abandon my family for the war? That's where this is going? It's Dudley's family and I let karma just beat him down and turn away 'cause it's best for the war?
Yes. I sacrifice anything for the war. We lose and we lose everything. The Dursleys and everyone like them may be killed. Raided. I can't sacrifice that for one suffering boy. I shouldn't be here.
Harry stared into Vernon's pale face and sighed. He had to leave, he should never have come; he was only wasting time he didn't have.
He walked toward the kitchen as he heard Dudley's feet pounding down the stairs. He had to explain it to him.
Hey Dudley, I'm going to allow your father to beat you and your mother for a cause you know nothing about. Deal with it.
Great. Harry blew out a breath and pulled a hand through his hair.
"Harry!" Dudley shouted, looking excited as he swung around the doorway and looked up at him happily. "Cool."
"Dudley, sweetums..." Petunia called softly, her face white as her eyes dodged back and forth from Harry's wandless hands to her son's face.
"Look, he came!" Dudley said, gesturing to Harry.
"Why, precisely, did he come?" Petunia asked quietly, darting her eyes to Harry and away.
"Mum, we need someone," Dudley said firmly.
Harry found himself looking over at the boy, surprised at the serious tone.
"We don't need him!" Petunia exclaimed sharply.
Dudley didn't respond, glancing at Harry with a worried expression.
"Dudley," Harry started quietly, unsure at all what he was going to say.
Think, then speak, but there's nothing to say. I'm abandoning him.
Then go, and he'll figure that much out on his own.
"Nothing happened!" Petunia was insisting, pulling herself against to the countertop to get away from him.
"But, yesterday..." Dudley trailed off again. "Mum..."
"Petunia, do you want Dudley to learn that it's acceptable to beat his wife?" Harry asked slowly.
"Don't you get involved here," She growled, stepping forward from the counter.
"Do you want that?" He repeated.
Dudley stepped in front of Harry silently, as if to protect him from his mother's growing anger.
"Harry Potter, you have nothing to do with this! You are not part of this family!," Petunia screeched.
"Yes, but Petunia, what are you teaching your son?" Harry asked.
I need to get out of here.
Harry stopped, feeling something open like he'd popped his ears without realizing they were pressured.
The wards, Harry realized, beginning to walk forward. The wards were gone.
And no doubt the Death Eaters know that too.
"It's too late," Harry said, grabbing Dudley's hand and rushing toward Petunia.
"What? What?, get away from me!" She shrieked, reaching backward for a water pitcher to defend herself with.
Harry grabbed her wrist and apparated.
He landed, Dudley and Petunia in tow, and immediately felt something hard smash into his shoulder.
Harry pulled himself away from the muggles and snapped both of his wands into his hands, looking around his dormitory for enemies.
He turned and saw Petunia with the now-dented metal water pitcher in her hand, and understood.
"Where are we? What did you do?" Petunia hissed.
"You are at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it's safe here," Harry said, sighing.
"And Vernon?" Petunia asked.
And I don't even have time for this,Harry thought, wincing despite himself as he walked to the windowsill where Hedwig was waiting, glaring at him.
I was apparating too much, she couldn't find me, Harry realized, taking the letter and ignoring the bird's playful nip.
"Is this your bedroom?" Petunia asked quietly.
Harry looked up to see her glancing around the four beds.
"No," Harry replied as he unfolded the letter in his hands.
Dear Mr. Potter,
I'm delighted to find you have bought Woodmere Way and I appreciate your haste in such desperate times. Included is your paperwork of ownership, to be signed and returned to the Hayworth Wizarding Estate Company at your convenience and a portkey to the property. If you would like to meet me there at 4:30 either today or tomorrow I would be delighted to show you around your new most enchanting home.
Sincerely,
Gerald Hayworth, Sr.
Hayworth Wizarding Estate Co.
122 Mistrain Avenue
Owl Office Box 1
Floo Office 2
Harry checked his watch quickly and found it to be 4:31.
So he recognized my haste and honored it, Harry thought, nodding quickly.
"Charming abode," Petunia sneered at the Gryffindor curtains, making a passable imitation of Snape.
"I'm late to an appointment, unfortunately. Would you like to stay here or come with me?" Harry asked quickly as he took out the miniaturized pile of documents and enlarged it in his hands.
"Magic!" Dudley said loudly.
"Where is my husband?" Petunia demanded, glancing at the owl and back to him quickly.
Harry felt for Vernon, and felt the strange, empty feeling of having no idea where he was.
"Likely dead," Harry replied.
Petunia said nothing and Harry flipped through the documents quickly and signed and dated them.
Harry looked up finally, sighing.
"I did not have time to save him," Harry said as he miniaturized the documents again and put them into an envelope from his bedside table drawer.
"Harry?" Dudley asked, catching Harry's attention, "is dad really-"
"Dudley, listen to me for a moment," Harry said when Dudley cut himself off. He lowered the envelope of documents to his bedside table and faced the boy fully. "I came thinking to help you, I didn't expect the wards that protect you to fall, but they did. I grabbed you two and got out of there,"
"You've never liked him," Dudley said quietly.
I'd never even thought about revenge. Just the war. Good.
"Dudley, this is bigger than that. I'm trying to fight a war, I couldn't focus on saving him,"
"You could have, then?" Dudley said, almost whispering as the looked at the floor.
"Yes, probably," Harry answered honestly.
"Can we go home now?" Dudley asked.
"No, it's likely already destroyed." Harry replied, running his eyes over the fat, suddenly quiet boy.
"Okay," Dudley said.
"I have to go," Harry apologized, glancing at his watch.
"Are you going to an appointment without a shirt?" Petunia asked, sniffing lightly.
Yes, your husband just died and your concerned about my appearance, Harry thought, shaking his head.
"I can't wear one over my bandages," Harry said, grabbing the envelope from the nightstand as he felt the familiar urgency settle over him again.
"What happened?" Dudley asked lightly as Harry emptied the real estate agent's envelope into his hand and grabbed a metal key that fell out of it.
"I was fighting in front of a house when it exploded," Harry answered, walking over to them again. "Grab onto me if you're coming with me,"
To his surprise, both of the muggles complied, and he activated the portkey and felt the customary hook of magic focusing in his stomach and pulling him away.
He landed on his feet in what looked like a scene from a movie. A large stone path led up in front of them to a gray stone mansion that seemed to stretch in every direction, all curved porches and rounded columns. A young witch and gray-haired wizard in formal robes stood stoutly beside the path at an easy distance from them. Harry began to walk toward them and they quickly strode onto the path together, heading toward him.
"Woah," Dudley whispered from behind Harry.
Harry walked up away from the muggles and shook hands with the wizard.
"Mr. Hayworth, good afternoon. I'm sorry I'm late," Harry said, smiling politely.
"Mr. Potter," the wizard said, an easy smile stretching across his face. "it's good to meet you. May I introduce Mrs. Sandra Herrin? She's been working with us in interior design for years and she oversaw most of the project in furnishing Woodmere Way,"
"Good afternoon," Harry said, hiding his awkwardness and greeting the woman with a firm handshake.
"Good afternoon," she replied easily.
"May I introduce my-"
NOT family. Think, then speak! Harry cursed as his sentence stumbled slightly.
"friend Petunia Dursley and her son Dudley?" Harry said formally, stepping aside to look back at where Petunia was staring at them, her eyes wide and confused.
"Pleased to meet you," she said quickly, visibly gathering herself.
"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Dursley," Sandra Herrin said, before turning back to Harry, "I didn't realize you had planned guests sir, if you'd like any changes in the decor, please don't hesitate to call me. I can accomodate whatever taste."
"She won't be staying," Harry said carefully, watching the woman.
"I'm just here to visit the country, and Mr. Potter's been kind enough to offer himself as a guide," Petunia said with a fake smile, evidently understanding at least some of what was going on.
Harry expected Dudley to say something to give them away but Dudley stood silent, staring at the mansion's grounds.
"Shall we visit the property then?" Gerald Hayworth asked abruptly, gesturing toward the mansion.
"One moment," Harry replied, swiftly conjuring himself a tall desk to lean over as he signed the purchasing papers. The wards were strong, Harry noticed as they rose about the house, focusing on him as the new owner.
Harry nodded swiftly and handed over the papers as he joined them toward the large home.
"The rough cut granite of the front drive and the pink sandstone of the facade detailing were brought here through industrial floos from Egypt in 1534," Gerald Hayworth said, pointing up toward the pink edging done on the arched doorway and on top of the mansion's roof. "The granite path here continues out the south-east archway into the thirty acres of woodland riding, hiking and hunting paths. You'll find that the East-end exit, which is just beyond the front-face here, opens onto the seven acres of European and Asian style gardens. The west arch leads to a small six acre organic farm and orchard that supplies the household with its fresh fruits and vegetables every morning. The wards were done by famous wardmaker Frederick Vanheist in the early seventeenth century as the thirteenth of such homes he spelled."
"Harry, why are we looking at this?" Petunia asked quietly from where she trailed behind Harry. Harry turned his head back to face her.
"I've bought it," Harry replied as she sped her pace and walked beside him.
"But...how?" she asked, looking flabbergast.
"My father came from a rich family. Frankly I should be surprised he didn't already have a manor like this," Harry replied.
"You mean..." Petunia started, before stopping and clearing her throat quietly, "Lily could have lived like this?"
I never thought about that.
"Yes," Harry said.
"Oh," She said quietly.
"How long is this going to take?," Dudley asked quietly.
This is a waste of time.
"Mr. Hayworth, could you show me a bedroom for my friends here?" Harry requested.
"But of course," the man replied, smiling easily.
Harry heard the flapping of wings and turned to see Hedwig flying toward him quickly. He threw out his arm and Hedwig flapped up heavily, slowing herself before she dropped onto his arm and grasped his arm heavily. Harry pulled the letter from her quickly and ripped it open with his teeth. He struggled to get the letter out one-handed and saw Dudley moving to help him before he managed it. He pulled the letter open one-handed, aware that the small crowd was watching him politely.
Dear Order Member,
The bell tolls and the fires burns
Join us this evening at 5:00 PM
That we may lay our friends to a peace
as we could not give them in life
We gather,
Albus Dumbledore
The funeral, Harry sighed, pocketing the letter and looking up to see the Real Estate Agents and the Durlseys watching him.
"I'm sorry, I have to go," Harry said calmly.
Gerald Hayworth nodded easily.
"Very well, let's see them comfortable quickly, shall we?" The man said, gesturing toward the home.
I need to get the Durlseys in and these agents out, Harry thought, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, I should be leaving already," Harry replied.
"Yes, of course," the real estate agent said, bowing easily.
"Harry, you're speaking gibberish," Petunia said, gathering herself up arrogantly.
"Would you like to reschedule?" Gerald Hayworth asked politely.
"No, thank you," Harry replied, taking out his wands. "I'm sure we'll find our way around eventually."
"Of course," The man said, "It was an honor to meet you, Mr. Potter,"
Harry tucked one of his wands back into its holster to shake the witch and wizards' hands quickly.
"Thank you, good day," Harry said.
The two apparated out and Harry saw Petunia jump.
"Harry?" Dudley said, staring at the granite path beneath them.
"I'm sorry, I do have to concentrate," Harry said, pulling out his wand again.
"Why did my Dad die?" he asked.
"The wards protecting both of us fell as soon as your mother and I truthfully declared I wasn't part of your family," Harry said.
Petunia blanched.
"You never should have come!" She hissed. "We don't belong anywhere near your...your people,"
I don't have time for this.
"That may be true, I don't know-" Harry started, hating himself. He had to leave them to mourn in a house they didn't recognize so he could bury men he'd gotten killed.
Yes, I'm a true hero.
"I did what I had to do, I didn't know the wards would collapse," Harry insisted, feeling like he was begging and hating the feeling.
"Would the ward things have fallen if you'd stayed away?" Dudley whimpered.
"Dudley-" Harry started, shaking his head.
"No. They wouldn't have had any more reason to fall than before," Harry forced himself to admit.
"Okay," Dudley said quietly, looking away from him quickly.
"Well, he didn't stay away, did he? Now let's get into this house and see if there's anything edible around for lunch," Petunia ordered, striding lightly toward the house, her high-heels clicking against the granite.
"Mum, Dad is-" Dudley said, looking shocked.
"Let's go," Petunia said harshly.
Wonderful mother, Harry thought, wanting to growl at her. He forced himself to back up away from them. He didn't have time to raise Dudley Dursley, he had to go mourn three men and a witch he'd gotten killed.
"Find yourselves rooms, take whichever you'd like, and don't try to leave, you're only safe within the wards." Harry called. He'd have to find his way around the property later. That was fine, the real estate agent had sent him maps and floorplans.
So I overlook Dudley's code, arrive to rip the Dursleys from their home and let the Death Eaters have Vernon. So of course now I'm responsible for the muggles and the bloodwards are gone and I have little idea what that means.
Harry let himself glance at Dudley and Petunia striding quickly toward the mansion.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
~~HP~~