A/N: The middle part. Please read, I hope I'm getting better (although I doubt it). I'm in such a self-hating mood; can't you tell?
As Harry sat in his room, getting ready for the party, he could hear the girls arguing about dresses in the next room, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gushing about how wonderful Dudley looked, and the Springs rushing around, making last minute preparations. He sighed and laid back on his bed. He heard a knock at his door. It was most likely Hermione or Samantha; he didn't know why anyone else would be calling on him. "Come in" he called. "It's not locked."
To his surprise, Anneliese entered. She looked absolutely adorable in her baby blue dress that matched her perfectly eyes. Her golden hair sat in perfect shoulder-length ringlets. He chuckled and sat up when he saw her. Little Shirley Temple. Dudley will get a kick out of this. "You look great," he said.
"Thanks," she answered and sat herself in his lap. "You look hot," Harry laughed. "What?" she cried. "Sam and Gwennie say that all the time."
"Who's Gwennie?"
"My biggest sister Gwynevieve. She's nineteen. She's still in New York. She goes to Columbia University," Anneliese informed him proudly.
"Do you miss New York?" Harry asked.
"Sometimes," she said. She settled against Harry, and he hugged her. "Sometimes. I miss the park and meeting my friends their to roller skate." She lifted her dress up so Harry could see her knee. "See that?" she pointed to a large red scar on her knee.
"Ouch," Harry said. "How'd you do that?"
Anneliese smiled. "I was skating one day. There was a duck on the path and I tried to miss it. I couldn't stop, so I fell on my knees."
Harry tugged on one of her curls. "You should wear knee pads."
She laughed. "I do, now!"
"What do you not miss about New York?"
"The mean guys."
"What mean guys?"
Anneliese frowned. "The mean guys who would pick on Samantha."
"Why would they do that?"
"Because she was a witch," she told him. "They found out, and made fun of her."
"They are mean guys," Harry said.
"Yep. Are you a boy witch?" she asked.
"You mean a wizard?"
"Yeah, that's it! Are you?" she inquired.
"Yes, I am."
Anneliese smiled. "Can you do magic?"
"Yes," Harry answered.
"I want to be a witch," she announced. "Gwennie's not one, but Samantha and Hermione are. I want to go to Hogwarts like you and Hermie , not Independence. Samantha said that that school sucked."
Harry laughed. "I wouldn't know."
"Do you like being a wizard?"
"Very much," Harry told her.
"I want to be a witch. I need a wand, don't I?" Anneliese asked.
"To do magic, yes."
She looked at his face and studied him. "Where are your parents?"
Harry looked down at his feet. "They died when I was a baby."
"Have you lived with Mr. and Mrs. Dursley since?" she asked.
"Yes."
Anneliese gave him a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Harry was amazed at how mature and old she sounded for a little five year old.
"It's ok," he said. "It happened a long time ago and I don't really remember my parents."
"My aunt died last year," Anneliese told him. "My daddy's sister. She had cancer."
"I'm sorry," Harry said.
Anneliese nodded. "It's ok. I didn't know her very well, but I know that she was sick for a long time."
"Oh," he said, unsure of what to say. At that moment, the doorbell rang, shattering Harry's thoughts.
"Let's go Harry!" she cried, jumping of his lap and grabbing his wrist, "The guests are arriving! We have to be there when the guests arrive! We have to party!"
***
Indeed, the guests were really arriving. Lots of them. Soon the whole downstairs was packed with people, big and small, short and tall. Harry guessed that half of Liverpool was there. He looked around for Sam and Hermione, but soon gave up such hope. He felt like he was on an isolated lagoon, all my himself. He saw Dudley, but he wasn't really looking for him.
"Harry! Over here!" he heard Samantha call. He spun around and was face to face with a dressed-up Samantha Springs. She looked really pretty in a short, navy blue velvet dress. Her wavy, honey blonde hair was down, her blue eyes were blazing, and she looked remarkably like Anneliese. Side by side, it would be a simple matter of declaring them siblings.
"Where's Hermione?' he asked.
"I don't know; I lost her. She was right here, now she's gone…" She trailed off looking. "Well, she was right here."
"I guess she just walked off," Harry grinned.
"I guess so," Samantha agreed.
"Do you know half the people at this party?" Harry asked.
Sam laughed. "Half? Try no one. This is a welcome wagon party, remember? It's a time to get to know our neighbors."
"I feel sorry for you parents."
"Oh, yeah. They have to go and mingle with EVERYONE; I would be dead from all the socializing," Samantha answered, still searching the room.
"Do you see her?" Harry asked.
"Nope. She's wearing a black dress." Sam grinned. "You should see her; I fixed her up. You wouldn't recognize that girl."
Harry shrugged. "Hermione's one of my best friends; I'm sure I would."
"There she is!" she shouted and pointed.
Hermione was wearing a long black dress that fell to her ankles, barely revealing her shoes. Her hair had been curled and put up in a chinagon, a few uncooperative strands falling down by her face. All in all, she looked really pretty. "Hermione!" Harry stuttered. "You look great!"
"Thanks," she said. "But I feel so uncomfortable! Look at these shoes." They were black sandals with a extremely thin four inch heel. "I cannot walk in these!" Harry laughed. "Can we sit down?"
"Wimp," Sam teased.
"I notice you're not wearing these," Hermione said. "Now who's the wimp?"
"You do need to sit down; those heels are making you cranky!" Sam exclaimed. "Besides, those shoes are black, and my dress is blue. It clashes."
"Clashes my ass. You just didn't want to wear them!"
"Hey," Sam scolded. "Do you want me to go back upstairs and get my one's that have the six inch heels?" Hermione shook her head. "Then shut up."
"Why don't we sit down," Hermione repeated.
"Sure," Harry said.
"You two go ahead; I have to go find my parents and Anneliese and mingle some." She grinned. "Adios, amigos!"
"That girl is a bit…" Harry began.
"Odd?" Hermione finished. "Tell me about it."
Harry smiled. "You two seem very close."
"Oh, we go to each other's house almost every summer. We're very close. She's the closest I have to a sister."
"I wish I had a sibling," Harry said.
Hermione smiled sadly and put a hand on his shoulder. "We really should sit down."
"Lets," Harry agreed. They took a seat near a window so they could look out at the perfectly cloudless sky outside. "This is the type of night astronomy teachers live for," he joked.
"It's beautiful," Hermione agreed. "Oh Harry, look!" She pointed to Sam nearby talking to Dudley.
Harry grimaced. "Poor Sam."
"Poor Sam indeed," Hermione agreed. "He's awful, but your aunt and uncle don't seen that bad."
"They're on their best behavior. Actually, I think they're in shock that the Springs don't hate me and make me do all their chores," Harry said.
"I don't think anyone but them and Malfoy hates you."
"Aunt Marge," Harry pointed out. Hermione laughed.
"Do they really make you do their chores?" Hermione asked, suddenly serious. A large piece of hair fell from her bun and brushed her face.
"Of course. The lazy gits wouldn't dream of scrubbing the kitchen floor on their hands and knees."
Hermione squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry about them. They are awful. I understand why you don't talk about them." As she spoke, the loose hair bobbed up and down, starting to annoy Harry.
"Yeah. Life sucks, doesn't it?" he asked.
Hermione shook her head. "Don't say that! It's just them! I mean, look at you at Hogwarts! You're so happy then. Life doesn't suck then, does it?" Her loose piece of hair fell into her across her eyes, then she tossed her head back to get it off her face.
"Here," Harry said. He took Hermione's loose piece of hair and tucked it behind her ear. "It was bothering me," he said, responding to her bewildered expression. He smiled at her. "I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you too, you and Ron. Life is boring without you guys," Hermione admitted. "After the day Sam visited Hogwarts, Sam asked me who he was and said he was dreamy."
"You told me that."
"I know, but I didn't tell you this. It's what I was about to tell you earlier and Samantha made me shut up. I gave her a picture of him- well, of me, you, and him- and she cut me and you out of the picture!" Harry laughed. "She handed it back to me and said 'I don't need this part; you can have it back.' Do you know where she keeps that picture of Ron?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know."
"Under her pillow! She sleeps with it under her pillow. I do think that Sam has a bit of a crush on our favorite Weasley, wouldn't you agree?"
Harry smiled. "I think she does. Lucky Ron. I wish a girl would do something stupid like that for me."
Hermione snorted. "Are you kidding? Half the girls in school would sell their souls for a date with you."
"Really?"
"Would I lie?"
Harry pondered that. "No, but really?"
Hermione laughed. "Yes, really." She paused. "Oh Harry, look! Sam and Dudley are dancing! Oh I feel so sorry for her!"
"Me too. Do you want to dance?" Harry asked.
"Me?" Hermione asked shocked. Harry nodded. Hermione pointed to her shoes. "I can't even walk in them, let alone dance in them!"
"We'll just have to take care of that, won't we?" Harry joked as he leaned down and took her shoes off for her.
She smiled. "Just don't step on my toes! Listen, no one is going to accuse me of being a good dancer, so if I step on your toes don't get mad." she exclaimed.
"Well, I can't even dance, so you're better off than I am," Harry admitted.
Hermione laughed. "I guess I am. I'll teach you."
"Let's go!" He grabbed Hermione's wrist and dragged her out of her seat onto the dance floor. "Now, how do I do this?"
Hermione sighed. "You put one hand right here," she gently placed his hand on her waist, "and hold my hand."
"Is this really how to dance?"
"Look around! Don't you see everyone else doing this?" Hermione asked.
"There's not that many couples dancing," Harry said smugly.
"Trust me," she whispered. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."
"Good." Harry smiled.
Suddenly, Samantha came running over. "I need to talk to you guys now!" she grabbed their wrists and dragged them through the nearby French doors into the starry night outside.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"That jerk in there, he was making, uh, inappropriate comments." She said.
"Inappropriate comments?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"Yeah! He said that if I was free after the party, we could go to his room and, what did he say? Oh yeah, 'get down to business'. What a sleaze!" Sam cried.
Harry cringed. "I just thought that Dudley was stupid, not slimy."
"Well, you were wrong!" Sam snapped.
"What did you do?" Hermione asked.
"I … uh … kinda…disarmed him, under my breath, he didn't know I did it, but he's uh…out of it…."
"Sam, now they're going to blame it on me!" Harry cried.
"No, they're not, I told them I tripped on my shoe and slammed him into the wall. How much trouble am I in?"
"You mean with the ministry or the Dursley's?" Hermione asked.
"The ministry! I can handle the Dursley's, for christsake! They don't bother me!" Sam stated.
"You'll probably get a warning for using magic outside of school and in front of magic, that's about it though." Harry said.
Sam frowned and groaned. "I don't want a warning," she whined.
"What were you expecting Sam! You knew the rules, and you broke them!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I lost it! He made me so mad!"
"That's no excuse!" cried Hermione. "You should be able to control your temper! What would you have done if you had really hurt him?"
"I would have celebrated," Sam said.
"Hermione, don't have a cow! It was nothing big!" Harry said.
"Nothing big! She could have killed your cousin!"
"I wish she had."
"Do you think that this is going to look good for her? Causing trouble before she even goes to Hogwarts?" Hermione yelled. She saw Harry's face turn red with anger.
"Ron's right about you, you are a bossy know-it-all and I don't know why I am trying this, nothing can get through to you!"
Hermione's jaw dropped open. "That was mean, Harry. That was low. It wasn't personal before; I wasn't shouting off insults at you, was I?"
"Do I even have to be here for this conversation?" Sam winced. They both glared at her. "Good, because, I gotta go and, uh, milk the cow." She said running inside.
"Look what you did!" Hermione yelled.
"Me? What did I do?"
"Oh yeah, I'm sorry, I forgot, you're the famous, perfect Harry Potter who can do no wrong."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked her. "You sound like Malfoy!"
She ignored his last comment. "It means that-"
Harry cut her off. "And what is this about ME being perfect? What about you? Perfect grades, perfect reputation-"
"Perfect reputation! I have two detentions, thanks to you!"
"Oh, two detentions, how awful! You're so goddamn perfect you're fake! You're just as fake as Malfoy!" he mocked.
"Well, you are trying to get everyone's pity by telling them that your aunt and uncle make you work and beat you!" Hermione cried. "I don't see anything not fake in that!"
"They actually do that," Harry whispered.
"Sure," Hermione scoffed. "And I'm the Queen of England."
Harry bowed to her. "Your majesty, do you see this?" he pulled his sleeve to reveal a black and blue bruise.
"Did they do that?" Hermione whispered.
"Well, that's them grabbing me and throwing me in the cupboard for a week for no reason what-so-ever." Harry said softly.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said.
"It's ok," he waved it off.
"No, I'm sorry about this entire fight."
Harry smiled. "Me too. I'm sorry too."
"I don't think I've ever really fought with you before."
"It's usually you and Ron, isn't it?" he joked.
"Usually," Hermione agreed. "It's hardly me and you, or you and him."
Harry shrugged. "Are you cold?"
Hermione shivered in the cold wind coming from the nearby lake. "A bit."
"Here," Harry said as he put his jacket around her shoulders. "Better?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
"We better get inside," Harry said, "and see how the Dudley/Samantha situation is working out."
"I hope she really hurt him," Hermione muttered under her breath.
Harry laughed. "Me too, Herm. Me too."
***
Dudley, unfortunately, soon regained consciousness. "Rats," Sam whispered, snapping her finger. "I really wanted him to be out of it for a few days."
"All dreams don't come true," Hermione joked.
Harry suddenly stilled on the word 'dreams'. What was up with his dreams? He had gotten to the point where he didn't want to go sleep; his nightmares were so terrorizing. He often had the dream where his parents were being murdered, but never before had he had the same dream so many nights in a row. His current nightmare was aloof; he only picked up bits and pieces. He remembered Voldemort's laughter, an intense heat, a charred body, screams. What did they mean? Did they have a significance other than to scare him?
"Harry?" Hermione asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Yeah?"
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," Harry lied. "Just fine."
Hermione gave him a look of disbelief, but didn't say anything. "Hey, Sam, tomorrow, we're going water skiing, right?"
"Right on!" Sam cried. "You guys will love water skiing! It rocks my boat!"
"Huh?" Harry inquired.
"Never mind. It's just really fun. I'm teaching Anneliese this summer; she's finally big enough, so I can take you as a student too, Harry."
Harry turned to Hermione. "You know how?"
Hermione nodded. "I've been doing it since I was nine. I'm not as good as Sam."
"Got that right," Sam exclaimed. "I am the world champion water skier! Go me!" Her expression changed. "Oh, no! Tomorrow I have to go with Anneliese to her day camp presentation! It'll be all day!"
Hermione patted her back. "We can water ski in the evening, can't we?"
Sam cheered up. "Of course we can; why didn't I think of that?"
"Because-"
"Shut up Hermione!" Samantha cried. "It may be a bit harder in the evening because the waves are a bit bigger, but not too much. It'll be fun!"
***
That evening, around seven o'clock, Harry found himself outside in his trunks and a white T-shirt, waiting for the girls to get outside so they could go water skiing. The water was choppy, yet the breeze was almost nonexistent. He heard Hermione and Samantha coming outside, arguing as usual.
"My ankles still hurt from those shoes last night," Hermione whined.
"You're such a baby. You don't know what hurt is!"
"I am so not a baby!"
"Are too."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am too!"
"Are not!" Sam screamed.
Hermione laughed. "See, even you admit it, Sam. I'm not a baby."
"That was low, Herm. That was low," Sam told her.
"That wasn't low; that was funny, wasn't it?" Hermione asked Harry.
"Not taking sides," Harry said. "I'm Switzerland."
"Let's start!" Sam stated. "Anneliese will be joining us later; she went to get ice cream with a friend."
"Who's going to drive the boat?" Hermione asked.
"Moi." Samantha looked at their bewildered faces. "What? I've been doing this since I was a little girl. I know how to drive a stupid boat!"
"True, she has," Hermione whispered. "Are you ok?"
Harry stared off to space. "Fine," he whispered. The sun was setting, and the breeze was starting up rapidly. Something is wrong, a voice in his head told him. Harry shrugged it off. "Don't we need skis to water ski?"
Samantha smacked her forehead. "Of course, of course! Where is my brain?"
"I'm not saying anything, I'm not saying anything," Hermione chanted.
"Good girl," Sam patted Hermione on the back. "Where are the damn skis?"
"You can't find them?" Harry questioned.
"They're usually right here," she said, pointing to a closet in the boat port. "They're always right here."
"Where could they be?" Hermione asked. "Could your parents have put them anywhere?"
Sam shook her head. "Mom and Dad keep them right here. They never move them."
"Could they have been stolen?" Harry asked.
Samantha laughed. "Our nearest neighbors are almost a mile away, and don't you think we'd notice is someone carried off five pairs of skis? That's a bit of a load, isn't it?" She sighed. "Besides, the closet is locked. Always. The only people who have a key are me, my mom and my dad, and Hermione."
"Someone could have opened it by magic," Hermione said, voicing the same thing that was running through Harry's head.
Samantha shook her head. "Come on, get a clue. We three are the only wizards in miles."
"Where could they have gone?" Harry said softly.
"I don't know." Sam put her head in her hands. "My only guess is that mom or dad could have put them in the guest quarters."
"Guest quarters?" Harry asked curiously.
"Yeah, we have a small house, over there," she pointed into the distance. "Mom's changing it into her office. I can't believe that she would put it in there; she's painting it now. She wouldn't just put rusting sports equipment in there for no reason."
"Small house? How big is it?"
Sam shrugged. "Three rooms? There's a main room, with two bedrooms off of it. It would make a really nice clubhouse if mom hadn't claimed it first."
"And if we were younger," Hermione added with a smile.
"Of course, that's what I meant."
"Let's go and see if the skis are in there," Harry said. "I mean, we could go out on the boat and not ski…"
Samantha gasped in mock horror. "Is someone getting scared?" she joked.
"No," Harry told her. He wasn't scared of the water skiing; there was some little voice telling him that something was terribly wrong, that something was going to happen.
"Let's go!" Sam ordered and led the way to the guest house.
"Scared?" Hermione whispered to Harry as they walked.
"Not about water skiing, but something else," Harry admitted.
"Me too," Hermione said softly. "Me too."
Author's Note: Read the next part. That's all I really have to say.
Disclaimer: I know I promised it would be in this part, but I really thought this part would be the last. Obviously, I was wrong. It's in the next part (I promise!)
As Harry sat in his room, getting ready for the party, he could hear the girls arguing about dresses in the next room, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gushing about how wonderful Dudley looked, and the Springs rushing around, making last minute preparations. He sighed and laid back on his bed. He heard a knock at his door. It was most likely Hermione or Samantha; he didn't know why anyone else would be calling on him. "Come in" he called. "It's not locked."
To his surprise, Anneliese entered. She looked absolutely adorable in her baby blue dress that matched her perfectly eyes. Her golden hair sat in perfect shoulder-length ringlets. He chuckled and sat up when he saw her. Little Shirley Temple. Dudley will get a kick out of this. "You look great," he said.
"Thanks," she answered and sat herself in his lap. "You look hot," Harry laughed. "What?" she cried. "Sam and Gwennie say that all the time."
"Who's Gwennie?"
"My biggest sister Gwynevieve. She's nineteen. She's still in New York. She goes to Columbia University," Anneliese informed him proudly.
"Do you miss New York?" Harry asked.
"Sometimes," she said. She settled against Harry, and he hugged her. "Sometimes. I miss the park and meeting my friends their to roller skate." She lifted her dress up so Harry could see her knee. "See that?" she pointed to a large red scar on her knee.
"Ouch," Harry said. "How'd you do that?"
Anneliese smiled. "I was skating one day. There was a duck on the path and I tried to miss it. I couldn't stop, so I fell on my knees."
Harry tugged on one of her curls. "You should wear knee pads."
She laughed. "I do, now!"
"What do you not miss about New York?"
"The mean guys."
"What mean guys?"
Anneliese frowned. "The mean guys who would pick on Samantha."
"Why would they do that?"
"Because she was a witch," she told him. "They found out, and made fun of her."
"They are mean guys," Harry said.
"Yep. Are you a boy witch?" she asked.
"You mean a wizard?"
"Yeah, that's it! Are you?" she inquired.
"Yes, I am."
Anneliese smiled. "Can you do magic?"
"Yes," Harry answered.
"I want to be a witch," she announced. "Gwennie's not one, but Samantha and Hermione are. I want to go to Hogwarts like you and Hermie , not Independence. Samantha said that that school sucked."
Harry laughed. "I wouldn't know."
"Do you like being a wizard?"
"Very much," Harry told her.
"I want to be a witch. I need a wand, don't I?" Anneliese asked.
"To do magic, yes."
She looked at his face and studied him. "Where are your parents?"
Harry looked down at his feet. "They died when I was a baby."
"Have you lived with Mr. and Mrs. Dursley since?" she asked.
"Yes."
Anneliese gave him a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Harry was amazed at how mature and old she sounded for a little five year old.
"It's ok," he said. "It happened a long time ago and I don't really remember my parents."
"My aunt died last year," Anneliese told him. "My daddy's sister. She had cancer."
"I'm sorry," Harry said.
Anneliese nodded. "It's ok. I didn't know her very well, but I know that she was sick for a long time."
"Oh," he said, unsure of what to say. At that moment, the doorbell rang, shattering Harry's thoughts.
"Let's go Harry!" she cried, jumping of his lap and grabbing his wrist, "The guests are arriving! We have to be there when the guests arrive! We have to party!"
***
Indeed, the guests were really arriving. Lots of them. Soon the whole downstairs was packed with people, big and small, short and tall. Harry guessed that half of Liverpool was there. He looked around for Sam and Hermione, but soon gave up such hope. He felt like he was on an isolated lagoon, all my himself. He saw Dudley, but he wasn't really looking for him.
"Harry! Over here!" he heard Samantha call. He spun around and was face to face with a dressed-up Samantha Springs. She looked really pretty in a short, navy blue velvet dress. Her wavy, honey blonde hair was down, her blue eyes were blazing, and she looked remarkably like Anneliese. Side by side, it would be a simple matter of declaring them siblings.
"Where's Hermione?' he asked.
"I don't know; I lost her. She was right here, now she's gone…" She trailed off looking. "Well, she was right here."
"I guess she just walked off," Harry grinned.
"I guess so," Samantha agreed.
"Do you know half the people at this party?" Harry asked.
Sam laughed. "Half? Try no one. This is a welcome wagon party, remember? It's a time to get to know our neighbors."
"I feel sorry for you parents."
"Oh, yeah. They have to go and mingle with EVERYONE; I would be dead from all the socializing," Samantha answered, still searching the room.
"Do you see her?" Harry asked.
"Nope. She's wearing a black dress." Sam grinned. "You should see her; I fixed her up. You wouldn't recognize that girl."
Harry shrugged. "Hermione's one of my best friends; I'm sure I would."
"There she is!" she shouted and pointed.
Hermione was wearing a long black dress that fell to her ankles, barely revealing her shoes. Her hair had been curled and put up in a chinagon, a few uncooperative strands falling down by her face. All in all, she looked really pretty. "Hermione!" Harry stuttered. "You look great!"
"Thanks," she said. "But I feel so uncomfortable! Look at these shoes." They were black sandals with a extremely thin four inch heel. "I cannot walk in these!" Harry laughed. "Can we sit down?"
"Wimp," Sam teased.
"I notice you're not wearing these," Hermione said. "Now who's the wimp?"
"You do need to sit down; those heels are making you cranky!" Sam exclaimed. "Besides, those shoes are black, and my dress is blue. It clashes."
"Clashes my ass. You just didn't want to wear them!"
"Hey," Sam scolded. "Do you want me to go back upstairs and get my one's that have the six inch heels?" Hermione shook her head. "Then shut up."
"Why don't we sit down," Hermione repeated.
"Sure," Harry said.
"You two go ahead; I have to go find my parents and Anneliese and mingle some." She grinned. "Adios, amigos!"
"That girl is a bit…" Harry began.
"Odd?" Hermione finished. "Tell me about it."
Harry smiled. "You two seem very close."
"Oh, we go to each other's house almost every summer. We're very close. She's the closest I have to a sister."
"I wish I had a sibling," Harry said.
Hermione smiled sadly and put a hand on his shoulder. "We really should sit down."
"Lets," Harry agreed. They took a seat near a window so they could look out at the perfectly cloudless sky outside. "This is the type of night astronomy teachers live for," he joked.
"It's beautiful," Hermione agreed. "Oh Harry, look!" She pointed to Sam nearby talking to Dudley.
Harry grimaced. "Poor Sam."
"Poor Sam indeed," Hermione agreed. "He's awful, but your aunt and uncle don't seen that bad."
"They're on their best behavior. Actually, I think they're in shock that the Springs don't hate me and make me do all their chores," Harry said.
"I don't think anyone but them and Malfoy hates you."
"Aunt Marge," Harry pointed out. Hermione laughed.
"Do they really make you do their chores?" Hermione asked, suddenly serious. A large piece of hair fell from her bun and brushed her face.
"Of course. The lazy gits wouldn't dream of scrubbing the kitchen floor on their hands and knees."
Hermione squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry about them. They are awful. I understand why you don't talk about them." As she spoke, the loose hair bobbed up and down, starting to annoy Harry.
"Yeah. Life sucks, doesn't it?" he asked.
Hermione shook her head. "Don't say that! It's just them! I mean, look at you at Hogwarts! You're so happy then. Life doesn't suck then, does it?" Her loose piece of hair fell into her across her eyes, then she tossed her head back to get it off her face.
"Here," Harry said. He took Hermione's loose piece of hair and tucked it behind her ear. "It was bothering me," he said, responding to her bewildered expression. He smiled at her. "I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you too, you and Ron. Life is boring without you guys," Hermione admitted. "After the day Sam visited Hogwarts, Sam asked me who he was and said he was dreamy."
"You told me that."
"I know, but I didn't tell you this. It's what I was about to tell you earlier and Samantha made me shut up. I gave her a picture of him- well, of me, you, and him- and she cut me and you out of the picture!" Harry laughed. "She handed it back to me and said 'I don't need this part; you can have it back.' Do you know where she keeps that picture of Ron?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know."
"Under her pillow! She sleeps with it under her pillow. I do think that Sam has a bit of a crush on our favorite Weasley, wouldn't you agree?"
Harry smiled. "I think she does. Lucky Ron. I wish a girl would do something stupid like that for me."
Hermione snorted. "Are you kidding? Half the girls in school would sell their souls for a date with you."
"Really?"
"Would I lie?"
Harry pondered that. "No, but really?"
Hermione laughed. "Yes, really." She paused. "Oh Harry, look! Sam and Dudley are dancing! Oh I feel so sorry for her!"
"Me too. Do you want to dance?" Harry asked.
"Me?" Hermione asked shocked. Harry nodded. Hermione pointed to her shoes. "I can't even walk in them, let alone dance in them!"
"We'll just have to take care of that, won't we?" Harry joked as he leaned down and took her shoes off for her.
She smiled. "Just don't step on my toes! Listen, no one is going to accuse me of being a good dancer, so if I step on your toes don't get mad." she exclaimed.
"Well, I can't even dance, so you're better off than I am," Harry admitted.
Hermione laughed. "I guess I am. I'll teach you."
"Let's go!" He grabbed Hermione's wrist and dragged her out of her seat onto the dance floor. "Now, how do I do this?"
Hermione sighed. "You put one hand right here," she gently placed his hand on her waist, "and hold my hand."
"Is this really how to dance?"
"Look around! Don't you see everyone else doing this?" Hermione asked.
"There's not that many couples dancing," Harry said smugly.
"Trust me," she whispered. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."
"Good." Harry smiled.
Suddenly, Samantha came running over. "I need to talk to you guys now!" she grabbed their wrists and dragged them through the nearby French doors into the starry night outside.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"That jerk in there, he was making, uh, inappropriate comments." She said.
"Inappropriate comments?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"Yeah! He said that if I was free after the party, we could go to his room and, what did he say? Oh yeah, 'get down to business'. What a sleaze!" Sam cried.
Harry cringed. "I just thought that Dudley was stupid, not slimy."
"Well, you were wrong!" Sam snapped.
"What did you do?" Hermione asked.
"I … uh … kinda…disarmed him, under my breath, he didn't know I did it, but he's uh…out of it…."
"Sam, now they're going to blame it on me!" Harry cried.
"No, they're not, I told them I tripped on my shoe and slammed him into the wall. How much trouble am I in?"
"You mean with the ministry or the Dursley's?" Hermione asked.
"The ministry! I can handle the Dursley's, for christsake! They don't bother me!" Sam stated.
"You'll probably get a warning for using magic outside of school and in front of magic, that's about it though." Harry said.
Sam frowned and groaned. "I don't want a warning," she whined.
"What were you expecting Sam! You knew the rules, and you broke them!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I lost it! He made me so mad!"
"That's no excuse!" cried Hermione. "You should be able to control your temper! What would you have done if you had really hurt him?"
"I would have celebrated," Sam said.
"Hermione, don't have a cow! It was nothing big!" Harry said.
"Nothing big! She could have killed your cousin!"
"I wish she had."
"Do you think that this is going to look good for her? Causing trouble before she even goes to Hogwarts?" Hermione yelled. She saw Harry's face turn red with anger.
"Ron's right about you, you are a bossy know-it-all and I don't know why I am trying this, nothing can get through to you!"
Hermione's jaw dropped open. "That was mean, Harry. That was low. It wasn't personal before; I wasn't shouting off insults at you, was I?"
"Do I even have to be here for this conversation?" Sam winced. They both glared at her. "Good, because, I gotta go and, uh, milk the cow." She said running inside.
"Look what you did!" Hermione yelled.
"Me? What did I do?"
"Oh yeah, I'm sorry, I forgot, you're the famous, perfect Harry Potter who can do no wrong."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked her. "You sound like Malfoy!"
She ignored his last comment. "It means that-"
Harry cut her off. "And what is this about ME being perfect? What about you? Perfect grades, perfect reputation-"
"Perfect reputation! I have two detentions, thanks to you!"
"Oh, two detentions, how awful! You're so goddamn perfect you're fake! You're just as fake as Malfoy!" he mocked.
"Well, you are trying to get everyone's pity by telling them that your aunt and uncle make you work and beat you!" Hermione cried. "I don't see anything not fake in that!"
"They actually do that," Harry whispered.
"Sure," Hermione scoffed. "And I'm the Queen of England."
Harry bowed to her. "Your majesty, do you see this?" he pulled his sleeve to reveal a black and blue bruise.
"Did they do that?" Hermione whispered.
"Well, that's them grabbing me and throwing me in the cupboard for a week for no reason what-so-ever." Harry said softly.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said.
"It's ok," he waved it off.
"No, I'm sorry about this entire fight."
Harry smiled. "Me too. I'm sorry too."
"I don't think I've ever really fought with you before."
"It's usually you and Ron, isn't it?" he joked.
"Usually," Hermione agreed. "It's hardly me and you, or you and him."
Harry shrugged. "Are you cold?"
Hermione shivered in the cold wind coming from the nearby lake. "A bit."
"Here," Harry said as he put his jacket around her shoulders. "Better?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
"We better get inside," Harry said, "and see how the Dudley/Samantha situation is working out."
"I hope she really hurt him," Hermione muttered under her breath.
Harry laughed. "Me too, Herm. Me too."
***
Dudley, unfortunately, soon regained consciousness. "Rats," Sam whispered, snapping her finger. "I really wanted him to be out of it for a few days."
"All dreams don't come true," Hermione joked.
Harry suddenly stilled on the word 'dreams'. What was up with his dreams? He had gotten to the point where he didn't want to go sleep; his nightmares were so terrorizing. He often had the dream where his parents were being murdered, but never before had he had the same dream so many nights in a row. His current nightmare was aloof; he only picked up bits and pieces. He remembered Voldemort's laughter, an intense heat, a charred body, screams. What did they mean? Did they have a significance other than to scare him?
"Harry?" Hermione asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Yeah?"
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," Harry lied. "Just fine."
Hermione gave him a look of disbelief, but didn't say anything. "Hey, Sam, tomorrow, we're going water skiing, right?"
"Right on!" Sam cried. "You guys will love water skiing! It rocks my boat!"
"Huh?" Harry inquired.
"Never mind. It's just really fun. I'm teaching Anneliese this summer; she's finally big enough, so I can take you as a student too, Harry."
Harry turned to Hermione. "You know how?"
Hermione nodded. "I've been doing it since I was nine. I'm not as good as Sam."
"Got that right," Sam exclaimed. "I am the world champion water skier! Go me!" Her expression changed. "Oh, no! Tomorrow I have to go with Anneliese to her day camp presentation! It'll be all day!"
Hermione patted her back. "We can water ski in the evening, can't we?"
Sam cheered up. "Of course we can; why didn't I think of that?"
"Because-"
"Shut up Hermione!" Samantha cried. "It may be a bit harder in the evening because the waves are a bit bigger, but not too much. It'll be fun!"
***
That evening, around seven o'clock, Harry found himself outside in his trunks and a white T-shirt, waiting for the girls to get outside so they could go water skiing. The water was choppy, yet the breeze was almost nonexistent. He heard Hermione and Samantha coming outside, arguing as usual.
"My ankles still hurt from those shoes last night," Hermione whined.
"You're such a baby. You don't know what hurt is!"
"I am so not a baby!"
"Are too."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am too!"
"Are not!" Sam screamed.
Hermione laughed. "See, even you admit it, Sam. I'm not a baby."
"That was low, Herm. That was low," Sam told her.
"That wasn't low; that was funny, wasn't it?" Hermione asked Harry.
"Not taking sides," Harry said. "I'm Switzerland."
"Let's start!" Sam stated. "Anneliese will be joining us later; she went to get ice cream with a friend."
"Who's going to drive the boat?" Hermione asked.
"Moi." Samantha looked at their bewildered faces. "What? I've been doing this since I was a little girl. I know how to drive a stupid boat!"
"True, she has," Hermione whispered. "Are you ok?"
Harry stared off to space. "Fine," he whispered. The sun was setting, and the breeze was starting up rapidly. Something is wrong, a voice in his head told him. Harry shrugged it off. "Don't we need skis to water ski?"
Samantha smacked her forehead. "Of course, of course! Where is my brain?"
"I'm not saying anything, I'm not saying anything," Hermione chanted.
"Good girl," Sam patted Hermione on the back. "Where are the damn skis?"
"You can't find them?" Harry questioned.
"They're usually right here," she said, pointing to a closet in the boat port. "They're always right here."
"Where could they be?" Hermione asked. "Could your parents have put them anywhere?"
Sam shook her head. "Mom and Dad keep them right here. They never move them."
"Could they have been stolen?" Harry asked.
Samantha laughed. "Our nearest neighbors are almost a mile away, and don't you think we'd notice is someone carried off five pairs of skis? That's a bit of a load, isn't it?" She sighed. "Besides, the closet is locked. Always. The only people who have a key are me, my mom and my dad, and Hermione."
"Someone could have opened it by magic," Hermione said, voicing the same thing that was running through Harry's head.
Samantha shook her head. "Come on, get a clue. We three are the only wizards in miles."
"Where could they have gone?" Harry said softly.
"I don't know." Sam put her head in her hands. "My only guess is that mom or dad could have put them in the guest quarters."
"Guest quarters?" Harry asked curiously.
"Yeah, we have a small house, over there," she pointed into the distance. "Mom's changing it into her office. I can't believe that she would put it in there; she's painting it now. She wouldn't just put rusting sports equipment in there for no reason."
"Small house? How big is it?"
Sam shrugged. "Three rooms? There's a main room, with two bedrooms off of it. It would make a really nice clubhouse if mom hadn't claimed it first."
"And if we were younger," Hermione added with a smile.
"Of course, that's what I meant."
"Let's go and see if the skis are in there," Harry said. "I mean, we could go out on the boat and not ski…"
Samantha gasped in mock horror. "Is someone getting scared?" she joked.
"No," Harry told her. He wasn't scared of the water skiing; there was some little voice telling him that something was terribly wrong, that something was going to happen.
"Let's go!" Sam ordered and led the way to the guest house.
"Scared?" Hermione whispered to Harry as they walked.
"Not about water skiing, but something else," Harry admitted.
"Me too," Hermione said softly. "Me too."
Author's Note: Read the next part. That's all I really have to say.
Disclaimer: I know I promised it would be in this part, but I really thought this part would be the last. Obviously, I was wrong. It's in the next part (I promise!)