Chapter Four


Getting to the Alps...Wizard Style



Harry woke the next morning, not remembering his dream in the slightest, and untroubled by all his previous fears and anxieties. It was soon off to the mountains for him with Ron, and this Friday morning was brighter than usual as the sun beamed through his minute window.
He didn't even wait for Aunt Petunia to scream breakfast; he was already headed down the stairs when she met him halfway with a funny glare.
"What?" he asked.
"Put some decent clothes on," she snapped.
Harry looked at himself. He was still dressed in his Hogwarts robes, which he'd started wearing as pajamas - Dudley's just didn't work anymore, Harry was just too skinny.
"Sorry," he said, running back up the steps quickly before Uncle Vernon could catch him. He was about to open the door to his room when -
"BOY!"
Uh-oh. He spun around to see Uncle Vernon's stalky frame standing there, his mustache twitching and his face beat red with anger.
"Yes sir?" Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"WHAT IN HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH THOSE THINGS ON IN MY HOUSE?!" boomed Uncle Vernon, advancing on Harry as if he were carrying a gun.
"I sleep in them," said Harry, keeping himself calm - the last thing he needed was to be yelled at by Cornelius Fudge for blowing up his uncle.
"WE GIVE YOU DUDLEY'S OLD CLOTHES! YOU SHOULD BE THANKFUL FOR THAT! WE DIDN'T ASK FOR YOU!" bellowed Uncle Vernon.
"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for YOU either, so I'd watch my step if I were you," snapped Harry, about to enter his room.
"IN YOUR ROOM! I'LL LOCK YOU UP FOR YEARS!"
"I WAS TRYING TO GET INTO MY ROOM!" shouted Harry, feeling his temper rise. "BUT YOU STOPPED ME!"
Suddenly Uncle Vernon slammed back against the hallway wall, clutching his throat. Oh dear, thought Harry, I've lost my cool again.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," murmured Harry softly as he calmed down. Slowly, Uncle Vernon rose to his feet, still clutching his throat. He gave Harry a weak (and false) smile as he walked towards the kitchen.
"Don't see the harm," he muttered, "in you wearing your clothes...but you've got to give Dudley his back!"
Harry cringed in fear as he slowly walked down the stairs...the Ministry wouldn't be happy with him.... Nearly murdering a relative after actually blowing up Dudley's aunt Marge two years ago was not a good thing...no, the Ministry would not be happy at all. But that had been a nice Choking Charm he'd unwillingly cast on Uncle Vernon...

Harry had his things packed; Hedwig was back in her cage, having arrived with no reply from Ron; Harry had cleaned out every crook and crevice of his room, finding multiple items such as letters from Ron and Hermione Granger, Ron's and Harry's best friend, as well as letters from Sirius, birthday cake from Sirius, Ron, Hermione, and Rebeaus Hagrid, Hogwarts gatekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor; and his trunk was lying at the foot of the stairs, his cauldron, Firebold (his broomstick), and books packed tightly in it, while his wand was in his pocket.
Harry sat at the bottom of the steps, waiting patiently for the Weasleys to arrive. He knew at least Ron and Mr. Weasley would come to get him, and maybe Fred and George. The Ministry hadn't sent Harry a letter about his nearly choking Uncle Vernon to death, so Harry figured they were majorly backed up.
"Boy," barked Uncle Vernon sharply as he walked by, "what're you doing in decent clothes for a change?"
"What's so suspicious about my wearing Mu - er - normal clothes?" Harry asked, biting his tongue for nearly saying "Muggle."
"I told you you could wear what you want."
"I know. But I can't very well go out into the Mu - er - normal world wearing robes, now can I?"
Uncle Vernon grunted and walked on by. Harry sat for a moment more, then fell fast asleep, eventually falling down the stairs in his unconscious state.

"HARRY!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming," muttered Harry, rubbing his eyes groggily. He stood up and brushed the dust off of him, then walked over towards the door. He opened it to find a tall, very tall, boy standing there with flaming red hair. Two other shorter boys with the same hair were sitting in the car, arguing over who got to drive home.
"Harry, good to see you, mate, good to see you," said Ron Weasley, towering above Harry.
"You're sounding more and more like Fred and George every day, mate," said Harry, smiling. "How's your summer been?"
"I'll tell you all about it once we get to the Burrow," said Ron, "but first we've got to make it home in one piece. Fred and George got their Muggle driver's liscense...it's been a bit hectic to say the least...they love to drive, though.... Gives Mum heart attacks every time they leave..."
Harry laughed.
"C'mon, then, let's go," he said, grabbing his things and calling, "I'm leaving now! Don't forget to pick me up at the end of the school year!"
There was a loud grunt from inside, so Harry ran down to the blue car Ron, Fred, and George had came in. He piled in after Ron in the back seat, listening to the twins' arguement.
"You got to drive the way here, George!" whined the boy who was presumably Fred, who was sitting in the passenger's seat.
"You drive all the time!" said George. "And your name always comes first, too! It's always 'Fred and George,' not 'George and Fred.'"
"Oh, c'mon, George! Just this once! I wanna show Harry I can drive! Hey, mate," said Fred to Harry.
"G'day, Fred, George," said Harry.
"No! I want to drive!" George declared, starting the car.
"I've got an idea!" said Ron suddenly. "Flip a coin! Here's a Sickle...call it in the air..." He took a silver coin in his hand an flipped it up into the air, while Fred said, "Moons!" and George said, "Suns!"
Ron caught it and laid it on his hand.
"Moons," said Ron, "Fred wins."
George didn't look at all happy about it, but said a happy hello to Harry as he climbed into the passenger seat. Fred took the wheel and a second later they were whipping down the street.
"Hold on tight, Harry, by the way," warned Ron, strapping his seatbelt on extra tight.
Fred was a pretty good driver, Harry discovered, at least as far as he could tell. Half the time he was in the floorboards, scrambling to get back into his seat while Fred turned the other direction, slamming Harry into the door. By the time they arrived at the Burrow, Ron and Harry had knocked heads about fifty times, and the window on Harry's side had shattered five times ("Reparo, Reparo, Reparo!") from being hit by Harry's very sore head; Ron's had busted twice. George looked slightly seasick, and Fred was jumping up and down happily.
Fred got out of the car and helped Harry out after they'd pulled into the driveway.
"Welcome home, Harry," he said in a mock-snuity tone.
Harry laughed as he dragged his trunk (Ron took Hedwig) and headed for the house. The sun was still shining very brightly in the sky, giving Harry a good feeling. Fred and George burst into the door of the kitchen, followed closely by Harry and Ron. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting at the kitchen table, chatting about some "Ministry blunder."
"Hello, Harry!" said Mr. Weasley brightly. "How are you? The Dursleys been treating you all right, I hope?"
"Er - yeah," said Harry.
"Heard you strangled Vernon," said Mr. Weasley, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "The Ministry's a little preoccupied, so I promised to lecture you about 'not destroying our relatives, no matter how nasty they may be.'"
Harry grinned rather guiltily as Mrs. Weasley englufed him in a hug.
"Good to see you again, Harry!" she said happily. "I'm so glad Dumbledore said you could go with us. You'll be staying in the Alps for two weeks, then come back just before school starts. I'm staying here, so I'll pick up your school things."
Harry nodded.
"C'mon, let's go to my room so you can settle yourself in," said Ron, turning to go upstairs. Harry followed closely behind, hearing Mr. Weasley call after them, "We're leaving tomorrow morning, so get a good night's rest, boys!"
"What time is it?" Harry asked as they neared Ron's room on the top floor. "I kind of fell asleep waiting for you this morning."
"Eight o'clock," said a new voice from behind them. Harry spun around to see their bushy haired friend Hermione Granger standing there, squinting at her watch. She ran up to Harry and hugged him. "I hope you're fine, Harry."
Harry, quite embarrassed at the attention, said, "'Course I'm fine. I'm the 'great' Harry Potter."
"Don't kid yourself," said Hermione briskly. "And there's already been a death. Last night, Dot Johnston, a Muggle, was murdered presumably by You-Know-Who."
"Johnston...where have I heard that name before?" Harry muttered as they continued to Ron's room.
"Dunno," said Ron, shrugging, "newspapers? The Daily Prophet said she was quite ancient." Hermione glared sharply at Ron's choice of wording. "What?! She was, what, ninety? The Ministry chose not to comment. I'd guess Fudge has ordered everyone to an oath of silence."
"I'm sure of it Ron," said Hermione sarcastically as she opened the door to Ron's room. "How can he tell the Ministry officials to lie? They have a right to their freedom of speech."
"Hermi, you've been reading American History too long," Ron teased. "Freedom of speech is America's little vendetta, not Britain's."
Harry took note of the use of the name, "Hermi" instead of her full name. He was going to start making mental notes on every little arguement, so he'd have proof of Ron's and Hermione's behavior towards each other.
"We have just as much right to tell the truth as any American!" snapped Hermione.
"Guys, could we please not fight?" said Harry, stroking Pigwidgeon (Ron's tiny gray owl) on the back. "You get on my nerves a bit."
"I reckon we do fight a bit often," said Ron thoughtfully.
"Well," Hermione exploded, "if you'd think before you speak, maybe we wouldn't argue so much!"
Harry had expected her to slam the door and leave the room at this point, but she did nothing of the kind.
"Did you every concent to realize that maybe YOU start some of our fights?" snarled Ron.
"No, I didn't!" Hermione shouted.
"Keep your voices down," Harry hissed. After realizing they weren't going to pay attention to his presence, he made the best of it: He took out his wand and whispered, "Recordo," pointing at Ron and Hermione, then listened to the rest of their arguement (ending with the slamming of a door and a badly bruised finger on Ron as he tried to keep her from leaving).
Harry whispered, "Savio," and stuffed his wand in his pocket. Their conversation would be recorded on his wand.
"She makes me so mad!" Ron fumed.
"Just stop fighting," said Harry, changing into his pajamas (his robes).
"Why're you putting those on?" Ron asked, pointing to Harry's robes.
"They're quite comfortable to sleep in, really, so I use them as pajamas instead of Dudley's old ones."
Ron shrugged as he climbed into bed.
"I've never gone to bed this early," he said, blowing a candle out. "Weird, huh?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "I usually study at night."
"Me too. I just sleep during the days mostly."
"You sound like me."
"G'night, Harry."
"G'night, Ron."

"Wake up boys! Time to get ready!"
Harry groaned as he sat up in his bed. The sun was yet to rise outside; it must've been around five or six o'clock in the morning, Harry guessed. Ron gave a loud snore from the bed next to him and rolled over.
"Ron," said Harry quietly. "Ron. RON!"
Ron snapped up into a sitting position, looked around, then fell back into his bed, fast asleep.
Harry sighed, knowing the only solution for this. He walked to Ron's door and stuck his head out.
"Hermione! I need your help, please!" Harry called down the steps.
The sleepy figure of Hermione appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later, still in her nightdress.
"What is it, Harry?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Ron won't get up," Harry explained. "Could you please - um - wake him up? Slap him, pour water on him, kiss him, for all I care."
Hermione glared at Harry as she turned bright red at the aspect of kissing her best friend. Harry watched from the doorway with an amused look on his face as Hermione slapped Ron once, a very un-Hermione-like thing, then poured a jar of cold water from the bathroom all over him. Ron didn't stir. Hermione gave Harry an amazed look as Ron snored loudly.
"Ron," said Harry suddenly, taking a few steps forward, "your plan to get her to kiss you didn't work...all you're going to get is a few more slaps and a bucket of ice water all over yourself."
Ron's sleeping form blushed deeply as he slowly stood up and rubbed his eyes. Hermione goggled at them both for a moment, then left the room, muttering "Boys."
Harry laughed as Ron stood slowly and shook the water off his bed.
"I wasn't awake," Ron said, still blushing.
"Uh-huh. Sure, Ron," said Harry sardonically.
"I wasn't!"
Harry shrugged as he brushed his teeth.
"Hurry up boys!" said Mr. Weasley from downstairs.
"Coming!" Ron called back.
Harry spat, then pulled his robes off and shoved a pair of jeans and a shirt on, then pulled his glasses on (How did I forget to put those on?), and headed downstairs, Ron in tow.
When they reached the kitchen, Hermione, Fred, George, Mr. Weasley and the only Weasley daughter, Ginny, were already there. Harry noted that Ginny's hair was much longer than last year - there were flowing waves of red almost all the way to her waste. He couldn't help but think how much she looked like Lily Potter, his mum. He shook his head ruefully as Mr. Weasley began to explain how they were going to get to Switzerland, carefully leaving out certain parts - Harry suspected he wanted to surprise them a bit.
"Okay, first we have to take a Portkey to a nearby airport," he said. "We would take one all the way to Switzerland, but a Portkey won't reach that far, I'm afraid. So we'll take a wizard airplane there...I'd tell more, but I don't want to ruin the surprise, as none of you have ever been in a wizard airplane..."
Hermione looked extremely excited with this fact. Since she had Muggle parents, she hadn't known of the wizarding world until she was eleven, when Hogwarts had sent letters to everyone in their year.
"So, here's the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, handing them a housekey. "This takes us to Kings Cross Airport, where our plane is waiting. On three, touch the Portkey. One...two...three..."
Harry reached out a finger to touch the Portkey as Mrs. Weasley said, "Have fun and be careful!" Everything began to spin out of control.
A moment later he felt his feet hit the ground hard, but he somehow managed to stay on his feet to investigate their location. It appeared they were in a bathroom. Judging by the shrill screams coming from all around them, a women's bathroom.
"Er - location must've gotten a bit miffed," said Mr. Weasley, taking out his wand. "Go on out and wait for me at gate twenty-two and one half. Fred, George...you two are in charge while I'm gone..."
After pulling themselves together, they quickly left the bathroom, the boys blushing furiously.
"Okay, there's gate twenty-two, and there's gate twenty-three," said George.
"So we'll wait right there," said Fred, gesturing to the area between the gates.
The twins led the small group over to that area. They were waiting for Mr. Weasley when Hermione burst out, "I forgot to tell you all, but I've been made a prefect!"
"Congradulations," said Harry, echoed by Ginny a moment later. Harry glared pointedly at Ron.
"Yeah, congradulations," muttered Ron.
A moment later Mr. Weasley bounded over to them.
"Eurgh," he said, "those women were impossible. Wouldn't hold still long enough for me to obliterate their minds." He glanced at his watch. "We can board now. They won't be announcing our plane's boarding."
Mr. Weasley stared at the barrier for a moment.
"Just treat it like the Hogwarts Express barrier," he said. "Just walk casually - "
But at that moment, Fred, who had been leaning against the barrier to talk, fell through.
"And, yes, that will work," said Mr. Weasley, laughing.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and George went in next, and when Harry looked around, he discovered they were in a long tunnel lit brightly with lights. He gazed around dreamily as he stood up and brushed himself off.
"Well," said Mr. Weasley brightly, "let's board the plane, shall we?"