Harry made a strong effort not to be bitter towards his 'friends' for the next two weeks. They were still a little mad at each other.
Professor McGonagall came around the common room one evening, taking names of the people staying. He saw Ron and Hermione sign up out of the corner of his eye. They probably figured two school free weeks would be a perfect time to work the truth out of him. McGonagall walked over to Harry. He reached out to take the quill from her, but she didn't give it to him.
"Potter, you are going home for the holidays." She told him. Harry's jaw dropped.
"Don't I get to choose where I spend my holidays?" He asked, not willing to believe this.
"We know what's best for you. You are safer with those- your relatives." She said. Harry slumped back into his chair.
"No." Harry said flatly.
"Yes. You are going. That's final." McGonagall
"Well this is just peachy. Two weeks with the Dursleys. They are going to kill me." Harry said.
"They have been notified and they have arranged a cab to pick you up from the station. Here is the money required." She gave Harry two ten pound notes.
Hermione was watching Harry. She couldn't hear what McGonagall was telling him, but it must have been bad, because Harry's face fell suddenly. Harry's face...she sighed. He was very cute. Harry didn't seem to realize this but almost every girl in the school had a crush on him. Hermione didn't have a crush on Harry, though. She had a crush on Ron. And Ron had a crush on her. She sighed again. Life was good. Only it had been missing something lately, that something being Harry. She was still mad at Harry, but she missed his sarcastic comments and arguments with Ron about Quidditch.
Harry looked disgusted as McGonagall strode away from him. His nose wrinkled and the look in his eyes was almost comical. He crossed his arms and hmphed, shaking his head slowly. Hermione gathered up her courage and walked over to him and sat down.
"What's wrong?" She asked. She wasn't expecting him to answer, but he did.
"They're making me go to the Dursley's over Christmas break." He said bitterly. Hermione's heart melted for him.
"Why?" She asked.
"Seen to think I'm 'safer' there." He said.
"That's crazy."
"Exactly what I told her. They are going to kill me. I didn't exactly leave that house on good terms, did I?" Harry said and hmphed again. "Two weeks. Two weeks! I have now entered living hell. Pardon me while I go drown myself in the showers."
"Don't kill yourself, Harry." Hermione said. Harry, instead of saying something rude back to her, laughed.
"You always did take everything way to seriously." He said and got up. "I need to pack." He walked up the stairs to his dorm. Hermione slouched back in her chair, like Harry had done. The position was quite comfortable. Ron came over and sat next to her.
"Did you two make up?" He asked.
"I don't know." Hermione said after a bit of thinking.
"What's wrong with him, anyways? He looked really ticked when he came into our dorm room." Ron asked. Hermione looked into Ron's eyes.
"They're making him go to the Dursley's over Christmas break. They think he'll be safer there." She said. Ron's grin faded.
"Safer? They'll kill him, more likely." He said.
"He said the same thing." Hermione said.
"What're we going to do?" Ron asked suddenly.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked pertly.
"Hermione, you know what I mean. You miss his company. I miss his company." Ron said.
"Well I don't know if I'm ready to forgive him yet!" Hermione cried.
"I'll bet we can figure out what he's not telling us without pestering him." Ron said.
"How do you know that?" Hermione asked.
"He's only dropped a million clues, even if he doesn't realize it." Ron said.
"Like the candle." Hermione said. "I found it in a trash can last week, and it was nothing more than a stump."
"And how he keeps disappearing in the middle of the night, and comes back smelling like smoke." Ron said.
"That's not a clue Ron. He's probably just smoking pot or something." Hermione said with a shrug.
"Harry doesn't seem like the type of person to smoke. Believe me." Ron said.
"Yeah I cant see Harry smoking a wad of Marijuana either." Hermione admitted.
"Well I think we're on to something. Candles, smoke-that's all related to fire." Ron said.
"That doesn't make any sense." Hermione said. "But you're right we're on to something. Let's go to the library."
Harry hauled his things on to the Hogwarts express with a very heavy heart. It was like he was walking the death march. Would the Dursley's let him do his homework? They'd better le me, Harry thought bitterly, or else I'll fall behind.
He didn't know whom he should sit by; Harry had never been on this train alone before. Harry sat down in an empty compartment and put his duffel bag in the seat next to him. He grabbed a book he had bought in his last trip to Diagon Alley (Quidditch through the Ages) and read. He had already read this book at least twenty times, but he liked it a lot, and it never got boring.
Boring. A perfect way to describe this train ride. He felt a little sick after awhile from reading on the bumpy train and looked out the window, but he got bored of that too. He looked at the clock by the door. He still had five hours left on this wretched train. Then he'd be taking a Muggle cab to the Dursley's. He balled his hands into fists without even thinking about it. He hated the Dursley's with a passion. Just like he hated Snape with a passion.
Harry suddenly wondered where Sirius was staying over the holidays. Most likely the castle. He half hoped Sirius would tell Hermione and Ron about being the heir of Merlin, and he half didn't want to be exposed.
Could the famous Harry Potter get even more famous? Harry certainly hoped not. Maybe the famous Harry Potter would become less famous, Harry told himself, it's always possible. He didn't believe it.
Hermione pulled a thick book off the shelf in the Library. Ron spotted her as she stepped carefully down the latter. She heaved the book onto the table and flipped it open.
"What is that book, Hermione?" Ron asked his friend curiously as she started flipping through the pages.
"It's a book on Merlin." Hermione said shortly.
"Why did you get a book on him? That has nothing to do with Harry." Ron said.
"I don't know about that, Ron. Remember about two months ago when Malfoy called Harry 'Merlin boy?'" She asked.
"No, of course I don't. That was two months ago." Ron said crossed his arms. "I still don't think that could have anything to do with Harry. Malfoy was just being a jerk, like usual."
"Hold on Ron, I think I've found something. Listen to this," Hermione cleared her throat and read from the book, "Merlin was famous for drawing fire out of the air with out a wand. Merlin would use this strange power frequently to light the fire in his cave or to create diversions to escape an enemy. His friends always noted that he smelled like something cooking on a fire, because all of his clothes were smoky.' Ron, let's go look in Harry's trunk."
"Why?" Ron asked.
"To smell his robes of course!" Hermione hissed a little louder than planned. The librarian looked over at them with raised eyebrows and put a finger to her mouth and said, "SHHHH!" Hermione nodded and grabbed the book.
"That's just wrong, Hermione." Ron said and shook his head.
"Well, Ron, you can stay behind if you don't want to know what Harry has been keeping from us." Hermione said.
"Okay, fine! I'll come!" Ron said. "What do you think it is Hermione?"
"I have a theory. But if I'm right, I don't see why Harry would keep it from us. It's not that bad. It's an honor."
"What's a honor?" Ron asked thickly.
"Think about it Ron, Malfoy called him Merlin boy." Hermione said.
"What, you think Harry is Merlin's heir or something?" Ron said and laughed.
"Exactly." Hermione said. Ron shut up. "I think there's a painting of Merlin somewhere around here."
They decided that they would rather look for the painting than go through Harry's trunk at the moment so they put the book back and took off down the halls, searching for the painting. They had no idea what good it would do, but it was something to do, so they spent the rest of the day combing the castle.
"Ron! I think I found it!" Hermione suddenly cried from the other end of the hall. "Come here! Quick!" Ron walked over to her and gazed at the painting.
"Oh my god..." Was all he could manage to say.
Harry stood up and stretched his stiff legs as the train slowed to a stop. He grabbed his duffel bag and left platform nine and three quarters with no trouble at all. He walked out of the station into the cool, crisp December air. He found a line of taxis and opened the door.
"Where to?" Grunted the driver. Harry got himself situated before he answered.
"Little Whinging. Number four Privet Drive." He said coldly.
"Ah, the suburbs." The driver said knowledgeably. "Why aren't you with your parents?"
"I'm visiting for the winter holidays." Harry said.
"What school do you go to?" Asked the driver. He pulled away from the curb and they got on the interstate leading to Little Whinging.
"Eton," Harry lied quickly.
"Oh, you're a smart one, then," The driver smiled at the nervous look on Harry's face.
"You could say that." Harry said sarcastically. The driver laughed and slapped a hand down on the steering wheel, accidentally pressing the horn. Many of the other cars rolled down their window and made rude signs at them with their fingers. Harry was a bit startled.
"Here we are, four Privet Drive." The driver said an hour later as they drove up the street. "That'll be twenty pounds. I'm taking money off your bill, because you were entertaining."
"Oh- thanks!" Harry said and handed the man the money Professor McGonagall had given him. He shut the door with a snap and walked slowly up the driveway, feeling worse with every step. When he reached the front door he considered running for it. He told himself, that would be dumb, Voldemort could get him even quicker that way. He knocked three times on the door.
"Who is it?" Came Aunt Petunia's screechy voice from inside.
"Me." Harry said flatly. The door snapped open. Aunt Petunia stood in the doorway, glaring at him.
"Why are you here?" She asked waspishly. Harry wanted dearly to say 'like I had a choice,' but was quite hungry and didn't want to be starved for the next two weeks.
"I thought you worked that out with Hog- my school." Harry said innocently.
"Those people said you would explain." She said. Harry thought for a minute or two.
"I'm safer here." He said finally.
"Why do you need to be safe?" Aunt Petunia huffed. Harry was a little shocked to hear her say that. In fact he was a little surprised that this conversation was happening at all, usually they tried to avoid Harry at all costs.
"Because." Harry said, not wanting to get into the matter with her.
"Because what young man? I will not tolerate being talked to in this manner." Aunt Petunia snapped. Harry had another urge to say, 'well, then don't talk to me' but refrained from doing so.
"Because, Aunt Petunia," He spat out her name like a swear word, " I need to be safe so I'm not murdered." Aunt Petunia smiled so wickedly that Harry winced. He really was going to die.
"Get your things upstairs, and don't come down. I don't want you to spoil Dudley's homecoming." He eyes clouded up slightly and she sniffed. Harry walked up to his room and collapsed on his bed, perfectly miserable. His room was cold and drafty, and the bare white walls annoyed him.
"Dudley!" Aunt Petunia cried from downstairs. "Oh! Dudley! Mummy has missed you so much! Look how much my baby has grown!" Harry laughed. He wondered if she meant taller or wider. Harry amused himself, wondering if it was possible for Dudley to get any wider. No, he decided after a minute, it's physically impossible. A series of loud thumps told Harry Dudley was coming up stairs. His door slammed open and Dudley stood there, looking absolutely horrible in his Smeltings uniform. It was stretched across his chest and the buttons looked as if they had been sewn on over ten times. He was still holding his knobbly Smeltings stick firm in his right hand.
"Come back for the holidays, have you?" He asked Harry. His voice had changed; it was very low now.
"Yes, I have." Harry said keeping his cool.
"You didn't get kicked out of that freak school of yours?" He asked, looking deeply put out.
"No."
"Piers Polkiss is coming over today. We could have fun." Dudley said with an evil grin. Harry knew 'having fun' would be getting beaten up. Harry smiled sarcastically.
"You and Piers can have fun together." Harry said. "And anyway, you can't hurt me now."
"Oh can't I?" Dudley said and pounded a fat fist into a porky hand.
"I can use magic over the breaks, Dudley. If I wanted to, I could curse you right now." Harry smiled just as wickedly at Dudley, who recoiled.
"C-c- curse?" He squeaked.
"Yes, Dudley, curse." Harry said wickedly. "And if you gave me a reason to, dont think that I wont." Dudley let out a little whimper and ran out of Harry's room. Harry smiled despite himself.
"Look at this picture!" Hermione hissed. She pointed again at the large portrait of Merlin Ambrosious. "Will you just look at it?" Ron was completely lost for words. The painting was of a handsome wizard in his later twenties. He had messy, jet-black hair and a great smile. His eyes were black too, but they were very friendly and warm.
"It's like looking at Harry with black eyes and contacts." Ron said. "And minus one lightning bolt sign."
"No kidding." Hermione said. They weren't even looking at each other. They were to busy looking at this magnificent painting. "Ron do you know what this means?"
"Harry is Merlin's heir?" Ron said.
"Not only that, Harry is royalty." Hermione said, reading the plaque under the portrait.
"Royalty?" Ron said, confused.
"Yeah, listen to this. 'Merlin Emry Ambrosious, the son of the great King Ambrosious and the Queen Ninian was the first Wizard known to our world. His symbol is fire, which he could draw out of the air without a wand.'"
"This is way to much. Harry, our friend Harry Potter, is not only the most famous kid in our world; he is Merlin's heir, and royalty? No way."
"Well I can understand why he wouldn't except this. He hates being famous, but it seems he was destined to be famous, lightning scar or not." Hermione said awed. "Now, all that's left is how we tell him we know."
"Nicely! Oh god, nicely! He could set us on fire!" Ron exclaimed.
"Harry doesn't seem like the type to set anybody on fire, Ron." Hermione said with a dismissive hand. "But you're right. Nobody likes it when people snoop on their personal lives."
"Oh but I want to scare him!" Ron said. "Well, not scare him, startle him bad at least. You know call him -Emry instead of Harry. It would be really funny." Hermione laughed.
"That is so horrible Ron! I love it. Get him back for lying to us." She said.
"But Hermione, he didn't lie to us." Ron pointed out. Hermione's smile faded a bit.
"I just realized how horrible we've been to him. Think what he must be going through. You find out that you are even more famous than you want to be, you're a prince, and then your friends desert you! I feel so horrible!"
"I think we should just do one more 'bad' friend thing before we call it quits." Ron said slowly.
"Like what?" Hermione asked and tore her eyes away from the painting.
"See what he's keeping in that trunk of his." Ron said and winced.
"I'm sure it's only school supplies and the invisibility cloak." Hermione said. "I don't think we really need to anymore. We know what he's up to."
"Well I'm just curious, because sometimes at night when I can't fall asleep I'll be looking around the room you know." Ron said. Hermione nodded slowly. "And I can see his silhouette in his bed and he's reading some huge book, or at least I think it's a book. It's been driving me crazy. I don't want to ask him, because I'm guessing it's embarrassing."
"That certainly does sound strange." Hermione said thoughtfully. "I'll never forgive myself." Ron smiled sweetly at her and they walked up to the boy's dormitories. When they crossed the room they went to the foot of his bed and popped open his trunk. All they could see on the top was his cauldron, some boxer shorts, the nasty socks from Uncle Vernon, and a few books on Quidditch.
"What did I tell you? All school things and clothes." Hermione said and started shutting the trunk.
"Wait! I think I see it!" Ron hissed and lifted the lid again. He pulled out the thick leather bound photo album of Harry's. He pulled it out and set it on the foot of the bed. " I wonder what's in here, potion recipes maybe, a book on hexes. I bet that's it. A book on hexes. He seems to really like those..." He flipped it open and looked at the first page of pictures. "I was wrong. Who are these people?" Hermione looked over Ron's shoulder and at the pictures.
"Oh my god Ron, it's his parents." She said. "He wouldn't want us looking at this. Let's put it away now." Ron went white and shut the album. As he picked it up again to put it in its place a picture frame fell out. Hermione picked it up and examined it.
"Wow, look at this picture, Ron. It's Harry as a baby." Hermione said and handed it to him. He looked at the picture, and frowned.
"He looks a lot different." He said and handed it back to Hermione.
"He could have been so happy." She said and wiped a single tear from her eye. "Ron we are horrible, horrible friends. We don't deserve Harry. He's to good for us."
"Oh, I'm sure he's done something horrible to us that we don't know about." Ron said with a shrug. Hermione had a sudden urge to slap Ron, but figured slapping your crush was definitely not a turn on. So instead she replaced the frame to its normal place and shut Harry's trunk.
"Prince Harry Potter. His Royal Highness, Harry Potter, King Potter, King Harry. Urgh, no I hate them all." Ron was saying as they made their way down the stairs back into the common room.
"Ron its not like he's going to get a title like that and take over the U.K." Hermione said and chortled at the mental picture she had of Harry in a long furry red cloak and a golden crown.
"I guess you're right, but it's strange, you know? Our best friend is royalty." Ron said.
"Well it's been so many generations since Merlin was alive, I doubt Harry would even be considered more than a Lord today."
"Hey! It's better than you'll ever do!" Ron snapped defending Harry's so-called title.
"Okay Ron, calm down. Well now that we know what he's up to, what are we supposed to do for the rest of the break?" Hermione said.
Harry was positively miserable. He had spent the last six days cooped up in his room, avoiding Piers (who was coming over daily) and Dudley, who were always looking for a fight with him. Dudley was still terrified of Harry, although he hadnt been to scared yesterday when he had socked Harry in the stomach. Of course Harry had been off his guard.
Harry sat on his bed and pulled out his charms homework. He was supposed to learn and master a charm or curse of his choice. Harry was looking forward to this assignment; he loved finding out new spells. He was leafing through his book when a particular charm caught his eye. The Hair-On- End curse. Below was a picture of a man with all of his hair sticking strait up, including his mustache. Harry laughed as he pictured Uncle Vernon with his hair sticking up.
Harry chose this curse to learn for Flitwick's class; it might come in handy as a practical joke someday. He grabbed his wand and a shoe, which he transfigured into a baby doll.
"Shocfer," He mumbled, so the Dursley's wouldn't hear. He hadnt mentioned that he could do magic over the holidays, and he rather liked having his arms in tact. The baby doll's hair rose on end and stayed standing until Harry mumbled the counter curse.
Pleased with himself, he transfigured the doll back into a shoe and was about to put his wand away, when he had a sudden idea. He went over to his mirror and mumbled the counter curse again and tapped his own hair. The pieces that were sticking strait up fell back onto his head and some of the sideways locks flattened themselves to. He smiled broadly, this was cool. He patted his hair and smiled even wider when it didn't spring back up into its normal state. He liked his hair much better like this.
He repacked his wand after he was done marveling at his hair and opened the door to his room, wanting to see if the Dursley's would notice. The door hit something hard and heavy as it swung open and there were two loud 'oofs' from behind it. Harry slipped out the door and saw Dudley and Piers sprawled out on the floor. Harry didn't trust himself enough to open his mouth; he would have laughed way to hard. Dudley and Piers stood up and looked at Harry with menacing eyes. Harry realized suddenly that he was cornered at the end of the hall. His stomach sunk.
"Get him!" Dudley cried. Harry went down as piers tackled him. He didn't even fight back, it wouldn't have done much good, he was to skinny to do much harm to Piers, who was a tall boy who was strongly built. Punch after punch Harry took, with out even letting out more than a cry of pain, but he nearly did when Dudley himself punched Harry as hard as he could in the eye and then again in the cheek.
They finally stopped when they realized Harry was tougher than he looked and wasn't going to cry, let alone scream in pain. Harry staggered back into his room, his nose bleeding badly, his glasses broken on the bridge and with two large bruises on his cheek and eye. He was sure he would have more on his stomach, arms, and back. He used his feeble first aid charms he had learned in his fourth year to stop the stabbing pain in his side and ankle and the bleeding in his nose. He then went into the bathroom where he washed his face. Now he took the two pieces of his glasses and glued them back together with his wand. He put them on and looked at himself in the mirror. He had a black eye. He had a sudden idea to light Dudley's thick blonde hair on fire, but then remembered Dumbledore's harsh warning about no harming anybody with the power of fire.
Harry sat at his desk and pulled out a roll of parchment. He couldn't stay here anymore.
PProfessor Dumbledore,
I know you say that I am safer with the Dursley's but I am willing to bet you're wrong. The Dursleys are barely feeding me and frankly I can't stand it. To make my point clearer, my cousin who weighs over three hundred pounds and his best friend has just beaten me up. Please, get me out of here. Please let me get out of here! It's almost child abuse the way I'm getting treated here. Please let me leave! /p
P Sincerely, /P
PHarry Potter /P
Harry folded up this note and went over to the window to Hedwig, who had come for a visit yesterday. She stuck her leg out and Harry tied the letter on it.
"Get there as fast as you can," He whispered to her and opened the window. She flew quickly out the window and was soon out of sight. Harry limped over to his bed and collapsed on it. He tried as hard as he could to ignore the pain in his left ankle. Harry suspected he had twisted it when he was trying to get away from Dudley.
"Hey, Hermione! Isn't that Hedwig?" Ron asked as a snowy owl came plummeting towards the castle. Hermione looked skyward.
"Yeah! I wonder if Harry's writing to us!" She said enthusiastically. The bird disappeared into the owlry. "I guess I was aiming to high."
"Wonder who the letter's for?" Ron asked.
"Cho," Hermione grunted. "I'm guessing it would be Cho, she is his girlfriend and all." Ron nodded slowly.
"Yeah that is true. Dumbledore, maybe? Harry and Dumbledore have always acted like friends more than a Professor and a student." He added.
"Well she was flying awfully fast. Must be something urgent." She said. They decided to walk back into the castle to see if they could find Dumbledore or Cho. They didn't have to look far. Cho was talking to Dumbledore in the entrance hall. Hedwig was resting on Dumbledore's shoulder.
"Miss Chang, would you do me a favor?" Dumbledore asked her.
"Sure, as long as it has nothing to do with cleaning." She said. Dumbledore smiled.
"It's not even close to cleaning. Mr. Potter will be coming back on the train tomorrow morning. I would like you to help up to the castle." Cho nodded, but looked confused.
"Why does Harry need helping?" She asked. Dumbledore looked around and saw Hermione and Ron in the corner of the corridor. He gave Harry's letter to her. She read it in silence.
"Of course I'll go meet him!" She said, sounding a little choked up.
"Good. His train will be arriving at the Hogsmeade station at eight o'clock in the morning. He'll be glad to see you I'm sure." Cho nodded and departed. Hermione and Ron caught up with Cho.
"Why is Harry coming back?" Ron asked her. She looked at Ron.
"The Dursley's have been- how did he say in the letter- abusing him. He wants to come back here where he is more - ah- comfortable." She nodded to both of them and went to the Ravenclaw common room.
"What do you suppose Harry meant by abused. You don't think they were starving him again?" Hermione said. Ron shrugged.
"How should we know?" He said. "Why don't we go see? We could walk down to Hogsmeade tomorrow morning and walk back up with him and Cho. Oh, I just realized he's going to have to sleep in that train. He probably won't want to see us after a sleep like that."
The next morning at seven thirty Hermione and Ron left the castle and headed towards Hogsmeade. According to Cho, Harry had been wired some money to get to the station, and got to leave on the train at nine o'clock at night.
The scarlet steam engine hissed into the station at eight o'clock, right on time. Only one of the compartment doors opened and only one person stepped off the train.
As Harry limped off the train Hermione noticed he had a black eye and another bruise on his cheek looked horribly like a hand. He almost looked skinnier, too, if that was possible. Cho ran over to him and hugged him. He stiffened up and said loudly,"Ouch! Not there!" And pried her hands off his waist.
"What happened to you Harry?" Cho asked with an edge of fear in her voice. Harry smiled at her. It lighted up his face nicely. Hermione and Ron hadn't seen him smile in a long time.
"Don't worry Cho, I'm fine." He said reassuringly. Harry looked around to make sure nobody was watching and saw Hermione and Ron. His gaze hardened instantly. "I'll tell you what happened later, when we're alone." He said alone a little louder so he was sure that his 'friends' had heard. Cho put an arm around Harry's shoulder and helped him limp in the direction of the castle. Ron and Hermione looked at each other.
"Ouch, whatever happened to him had to hurt." Ron said, looking at the backs of Harry and Cho.
"No kidding." Hermione said. They started walking back to the castle.
Cho left Harry at the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey made him take off his shirt do she could tend to those 'awful bruises.' Shivering, Harry took off his cloak, robes and shirt. She started murmuring things Harry couldn't hear and poking his scratches and bruises with her wand. Harry winced in pain every time her wand touched his skin.
When she was done harry quickly dressed again and looked at himself in the mirror. His bruises were all gone. He sighed in relief. He couldn't even imagine walking around school with a bruise shaped like a hand on his cheek. Much to Harry's delight, his hair was still lying flat on his head. He took a deep breath and walked out of the hospital wing, his step devoid of the limp. He suddenly became aware that Hermione and Ron were walking side by side with him.
"Um- can I help you?" Harry said slowly. Ron opened his mouth to answer but Hermione elbowed him hard and all that came out of his mouth was a grunt.
"Harry, there's no point to keep it from us anymore." Hermione said very matter-of-factly. Harry raised an eyebrow. "We know."