Harry Potter and the Marauder's Vendetta
Author's Note: This is the edited version of the story I'm working on before continuing. There were some changes I wanted to make. This story takes place after book 6 of the Harry Potter Series.
Chapter 1: Reflections in an Emerald Eye
In the smallest bedroom in the house at #4 Privet Drive, a mirror hung from a door in the closet. The mirror stretched from floor to ceiling, and on most days, was left unused. On normal days, Harry Potter didn't care what he looked like, or what anyone else thought of his appearance. He didn't care that his jeans were torn, and baggy enough to smuggle a pack of beagles. He didn't care that his shirts, inherited from his cousin, had to be rolled up several times just to pass his wrists. And he certainly didn't care that his hair, which had always been unmanageable, had come in the past few weeks to resemble a briar patch. The reason Harry Potter had come to treat his own appearance with indifference bordering on apathy was simply that no one else in the house cared what he looked like anymore. Harry's Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and voluminous cousin Dudley had been avoiding Harry all summer, and since the only other living creature in the house was Harry's pet owl Hedwig, he had come to find any sort of grooming as an unnecessary nuisance. In Harry's mind, the only thing that mattered anymore was training.
Since the death of Harry's mentor, Albus Dumbledore, at the end of last term, a manic zeal had overtaken Harry's usually languid summer demeanor. Rufus Scrimgeour, the recently appointed Minister of Magic, had allowed Harry special privileges to practice magic, even though Harry wasn't yet of age. As an ex-Auror, Scrimgeour felt this allowance was appropriate, since Harry had a habit of finding himself in battles with Death Eaters and was a target of the most evil wizard in an age: Lord Voldemort. So, as soon as Harry stepped onto the platform at 9 ¾ at the end of last term, he began a new training regimen. Every morning at 6 AM, Harry awoke and sprinted down to the small park about a mile away from his Uncle's house. He considered this good exercise, and also gave him an excuse to get out of the house as early as possible. The park had a chin-up bar, and Harry had stolen one of Dudley's boxing books a few weeks back. It was full of exercises that could be used for training and conditioning. This training regimen continued after he got back to his room (avoiding contact with the Dursleys as much as possible). In his bedroom, Harry had accumulated a small library of spell books (thanks in large part due to generous contributions from his friend Hermione Granger) including The Advanced Trainer for Defensive Magic and Hexes for the Vexed. Soon, he had mastered not only defensive spells such as the advanced shield charm, but also offensive hexes, including his new favorite, the Itching Hex. Day in and day out, Harry honed both his body and mind to their sharpest point. For he knew, without Albus Dumbledore, the world outside his bedroom window had become a lot more dangerous.
Harry sighed as he looked over his most recent article in the wizarding newspaper, The Daily Prophet. The headline read "FINNEGAN FAMILY DEAD: DARK MARK DISCOVERED OVER HOUSE IN IRELAND." Harry Shuddered. Seamus Finnegan's entire family had been wiped out, he had read, except for Seamus himself, who was visiting his best friend Dean Thomas in Wales. Harry had only met Mrs. Finnegan once, at the Quidditch World Cup before his Fourth Year, but she had been very nice to him. The paper also wrote the Seamus's father, a Muggle, had died shielding their youngest son, Sean, from the Death Eaters. The love of his father didn't protect him, thought Harry bitterly. Why did it only seem to work for me? The paper shook in his hands, and to distract himself, Harry flipped to the last page, which detailed upcoming nuptials. At the very top, with a beaming photo next to it, was a notice for the wedding of Mr. William Weasley and Ms. Fleur Delacour, to take place on the 31st of July, some 2 weeks hence. Harry smiled at the moving photo. Bill and Fleur hugged each other and waved happily in the photo. It was obviously a new picture, because it showed evidence of the recent events at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Bill's once handsome face had been left torn to shreds after the Death Eater's attack on Hogwarts, the result of an attack by the vicious werewolf and Death Eater, Fenrir Greyback. The memory of that night was enough to make Harry's insides burn. The Death Eaters attacking the school, Greyback maiming one of Harry's friends, his family. And Snape. Harry's rage burned hottest when thinking about Severus Snape, the so-called Half-Blood Prince. Snape had murdered Dumbledore while he was pleading for his life, after he had sacrificed his strength to help bring down the Dark Lord. Harry had hated Snape before (hard not to, the slimy git), but what he felt now was more than that. It was a frenzy, nearly an obsession. It was a vow, to make sure that Severus Snape paid for what he had done.
Harry looked up into the long mirror, and noticed that he had been crying. He hurriedly wiped the tears from his eyes and quickly ran a comb through his hair, unsuccessfully attempting to untangle the worst of the mess. He wanted to look his best for today, because today was the day that the Weasley family was coming to pick him up. He had gotten a note yesterday, brought back from the Burrow by Hedwig. Harry stopped to read the letter again, written in Ron's untidy scrawl:
Dear Harry,
Mum decided its time to come get you. She told us today. Mind you, Ginny and I've been trying to convince her for the past two weeks. But there's no reason to wait any longer, and we're going to be coming to get you tomorrow, whether the Muggles like it or not. You'll be staying in my room, but I hope you don't mind being cramped. The wedding has flushed nearly every last living Weasley out of the woodwork, and they'll all be coming by in the next few weeks.
Speaking of relations (Harry frowned at what Ron thought was an amusing segue) it would very much please me if you and Ginny had a private word once you got here. I'm not sure your "Lonely Hero" speech absolutely convinced her last month. You know I think you two made a great couple, and I wouldn't want to see you lose something great just because you have issues with safety, mate. That, and she's driving me mad. So, there it is. We'll be by to pick you up tomorrow at 5 PM. Have your trunk packed, and don't forget your dress robes!
Cheers,
Ron.
"Lonely Hero Speech," Harry grumbled. He'd meant it. Getting into a relationship at this point was a serious danger, and a distraction. The time he spent with Ginny during his Sixth Year had been wonderful, Harry would admit. But love was a luxury. Harry needed to focus on his training, and his mission. It was a good speech, Harry thought to himself. I almost convinced myself that time.
Harry glanced at the clock on his bedside table. 4 PM. He had an hour to finish getting ready. Most of his belongings had already been packed away, except for his Invisibility Cloak (an heirloom from his father) and his trusted Firebolt (a gift from Sirius Black, Harry's late godfather). He had kept these two out because Ron's letter didn't specify what sort of transportation they would be using to get to the The Burrow, and Harry wanted to be prepared for anything. Harry grinned, remembering the time before his second year when the Weasley twins, along with Ron, had rescued him from the Dursley's by flying car…
Harry jumped to his feet. The Dursleys! In all the excitement, he'd forgotten to tell his Aunt and Uncle that he would be leaving! Harry briefly wondered what sort of response he would get from them. He'd never been welcome in the house on Privet Drive, but he also realized, with a bit of a shock, that this would be the last time he ever had to be in this house. If he wanted it, he could walk out that door forever. The thought filled him with nothing but joy. He threw open his bedroom door, and bounded down the stairs.
Uncle Vernon was sitting in an easy chair in the front room, watching the new plasma television. His piggy eyes flashed at the sight of his nephew, but outwardly he remained calm. Harry crossed in front of the telly, making his Uncle shift uncomfortably in his chair.
"You make a better door than a window, Boy," Grunted Uncle Vernon.
"And you'd make a better boulder than a teacup," snapped Harry, "But that's not why I'm here." He steeled himself. "I'm leaving tonight. In about an hour. I don't expect…" he said, savoring the ability to finally say it, "to be coming back. Ever."
The thought seemed to strain Uncle Vernon's mind. Probably he'll run out of leisure activities if he doesn't have me to kick around like a football anymore. Uncle Vernon glared at Harry.
"Very…very well. I must say I'm glad to be rid of a burden like you. Expensive you are, and with your filthy, unnatural behavior. If you'd had some money, maybe then it actually might be worth talking about keeping you, but as it is..."
Harry's Uncle was interrupted by a blast from what sounded like a foghorn. Aunt Petunia and Dudley came rushing in from the kitchen, where she had been preparing Dudley his favorite drink, chocolate sauce stirred in Coca Cola. Uncle Vernon, looking fit to explode, rushed over to the window to see what had made such a racket.
His jaw dropped.
Outside on the curb were two long, sleek stretch limousines. Harry could tell that insides had been magically modified; meaning they probably belonged to the Ministry of Magic. On the hood of each car stood two little flags, each emblazoned with the letters HP, intersected by a lightening bolt. As the car rolled to a stop, Harry saw the drivers. He was shocked to see it was the twins, Fred and George Weasley. They were both wearing identically tailored suits, and black bowler hats, making them look like a cross between chauffeurs and bodyguards. They each got out of the car, and with brisk precision strode to the door of Number 4 Privet Drive. Harry was positive that between the horn and the cars, every neighbor on the street was now focused on the house.
After a sharp rap, Harry opened the door, prepared to greet this twins. But the Weasleys walked directly past him, drew their wands, on pointed them at the Dursleys. "I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but, do you know these people?" said Fred, with a face so stony, Harry was almost fooled into believing he was serious.
"Fred, these are the Dursleys, my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin."
"Very good sir," said George, echoing his brother's hardened manner; Harry noticed he didn't lower his wand, though. "We apologize for the inconvenience outside, but when you said you wanted us to bring your car to pick you up, you neglected to mention which one you wanted. I'm sure it's our fault, sir, but just in case, we brought them both." Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked shocked.
"BOTH?" They cried.
George spoke into the cufflink on his sleeve, "We're all clear in here. Bring in the butlers." The next thing Harry knew, Ron and his older brother Charlie were striding up the stairs, both wearing black tuxedos and looking, for all the world, like a pair of butlers.
"Second floor, sir? Very good, sir." Said Ron, making his best attempt at a smarmy, Malfoy-esque accent. Harry had to bite down on his tongue to keep from laughing.
"We didn't know how much you wanted to bring to school this year sir," said George, "So we also brought both of your butlers. I know you don't like extravagance, but when one is as rich as you, sir, we thought you could afford to show off, just a little."
"Now wait just one minute, boy!" roared Uncle Vernon. "Are you saying you have a fortune, that you never told us about?" He was trembling with suppressed anger, but Harry saw the greed flashing behind his eyes.
"You never told them, Mr. Potter?" said Fred, looking aghast. "But…but you've always been so generous with your money in the past. Giving away THOUSANDS of Galleons to the poor, the sick...why even your enemies have benefitted from your charity! Why, sir, you told me that a person would have to be an absolute GIT not to get a little of your generosity." He looked at Uncle Vernon with disdain. "For shame, you dastardly cur. What kind of man are you, not to earn the respect, even the pity of a great man like Harry Potter?"
"I'm…I'm a…what kind of a…How much IS a Galleon?" stammered Uncle Vernon, seemingly at a loss for words.
"More than you'll ever see." Snarled Geroge. "Perhaps if you had treated him a little better, sir." Uncle Vernon's face went scarlet.
At that moment, Ron and Charlie came back down the stairs, holding Harry's broom, owl cage, and trunk.
"Ah, traveling light this year. Very good, sir," said Ron, running out the door with a smirk on his face.
"Well, that appears to be in order. Ready to go, Mr. Potter?" said Fred, tipping his hat.
"Uh…yeah! I mean, very well then, Jeeves." Harry said, smiling.
"But before you go, sir, we know how long trips make you lonely. So we took it upon ourselves to make sure you had some traveling companions. Ladies?"
The door to the back limo opened, and Harry blinked to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Fleur Delacour all stepped out onto the sidewalk, wearing dresses that, to Harry, seemed to exit the car about a foot after them. They each looked devastating. Harry was reminded of the Yule Ball. Ginny's red hair was bound up in a bun. Fleur seemed almost to shimmer in her dress. But Harry was also shocked at how beautiful Hermione looked. He hadn't known that under her school uniform she'd gotten so...curvy.
"Harry! HARRY! 'ARRY!" He suddenly found himself being kissed by all three girls. Blushing furiously, he hooked his arm around Hermione and Ginny's. Fleur pouted, exaggerating her French accent to the point of parody. "Aww, 'Arry, do you not like me anymore?" She swished her hair, and Harry could tell, in a dazed sort of way, that she was using her Veela charms to great effect. Looking back at the Dursleys, he could see for whom. Dudley was goggling at the three girls, and Harry could see his tongue was about to fall out of his mouth and roll out like a slimy red carpet. Harry couldn't help himself.
"Fleur, of course I still like you, darling! Tell you what, we'll switch off arms in the car." Hermione and Ginny giggled at this. Harry blushed scarlet.
"Well sir, now, if there is nothing else, I do believe it is time to go. Can't be late for your supper with the Minister at Downing Street, can you?" Fred grinned, slightly.
"Lead on, Jeeves." Said Harry, barely able to sustain his laughter.
As he walked out the door, Harry decided that one way or another, this would be his last time at the Dursley house. He turned, and saw the entire family goggling at him, as if they had never seen him truly before.
"All of this could have been yours." Said Harry, shrugging. "Have a good life."
And with that, he sauntered away into the waiting car.
"Had a few extra Galleons in the practical jokes chest, did you Jeeves?" yelled Harry, after the raucous laughter in his limo had finally died down.
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes has been very, very good to us!" said Fred as he pulled his car out of Little Whinging. They had, according to Ginny, been rented and "Improved."
"Besides," said George, speaking through the intercom from the other car, "those Muggles deserved to see what they were going to miss out on, thanks to their behavior." Harry could hear Ron and Charlie were still howling with laughter in the back of the other limo.
"Well, where to Mr. Potter, sir?" said Fred, lazily pulling out onto the main road.
"The Burrow!" shouted Harry, excitedly.
"But of course!" yelled Fred, grinning as he switched on the Wizarding Wireless Network. "Only shut your eyes for a few minutes. These girls need to change, or else Mum will kill us!" Harry glanced at Ginny, who blushed scarlet. Hermione, on his left, smacked his arm.
"Eyes shut, Harry. And no peeking!"
"Wouldn't dream of it," said Harry, blushing a little himself now. "But, well, you all look amazing!"
Hermione looked down, embarrassed. "Just a bit of makeup."
"And what's underneath it, too," Harry retorted.
"Eyes down, Hero," said Fleur, in a tone that was not a suggestion.
Harry grinned, but chivalrously covered his eyes. He replayed his exit from Privet Drive. The looks on the Dursley's faces, the shock on Dudley's face especially. His friends, pulling one of the greatest pranks he had ever seen. He had finally left the Dursleys, and it came not a moment too soon.
All his other problems could wait. For now, he was happy to be just where he was, and happy to be going where he was headed.