The Price Of Victory, Chapter Five
The Hogwarts Express was slowing down as it neared King's Cross, bringing to an end one of the strangest journeys of Harry's life. He'd received his first shock when he'd boarded the train at Hogsmeade Station and had discovered that every compartment contained a statue-like Auror from the Ministry of Magic standing guard imperiously and silently. When he'd asked Hermione about the stringent security measures, she'd been surprised and had remarked in an undertone, "I thought you said You-Know-Who hasn't been defeated where you come from."
"He hasn't been, but they never saw fit to put Aurors on the train."
The Aurors had apparently been in place since the beginning of sixth year when the Ministry had uncovered a Death Eater plot to attack the Hogwarts Express.
Harry had passed the majority of the journey in silence. He'd been unable to stomach sharing a compartment with Draco and Ginny, who hadn't shown the slightest compunction about cuddling in front of either their fellow students or the Ministry Auror. It hadn't been very long before Harry had gone in search of a compartment he could have all to himself. He'd thought himself fortunate enough to find one, but upon reflection he'd realised the reason for this. There were fewer students making this trip. The more he'd thought about it, the more he'd realised all the signs had been there at Hogwarts, although he hadn't been paying much attention to them at the time. Part of the reason he'd missed the signs had been the reshuffling of the houses, of course, which had meant dining with a great many less familiar faces. But then Harry had been struck by the fact that he hadn't once been greeted by Colin Creevey, and he hadn't seen a trace of Dean Thomas or Justin Finch-Fletchley, either. A great many Muggle-borns had been missing, in fact. Not all, of course, for Hermione was still there, but enough to send a shiver of dread through him.
Hermione had joined him in the compartment at about the same as the lunch trolley was wheeled by. Harry had bought the usual assortment of sweets and cakes, but he'd deliberately avoided the Pumpkin Pasties. He'd seemed to have developed a sudden aversion to the pumpkin juice served in the Great Hall, something he'd noticed for the first time at the leaving feast the night before, when the taste of the juice threatened to cause him to lose his appetite altogether, and so he'd decided not to take any chances with the Pumpkin Pasties on the train. Hermione had not been good company for him, however, as she'd spent the entire afternoon buried in a book.
As the train rattled into King's Cross, Harry stood up, intending to fetch his trunk from the compartment where he'd left it. Hermione looked up at him in alarm, as the Auror, a grey-haired, stone-faced witch, moved to block his path.
"Sit down there, no disembarking until the all-clear signal is given."
Hermione, apparently used to the procedure, had not moved.
"I just want to get my trunk," Harry protested.
"You can get it when I say you can. Until then, stay put. Go on, sit!" The Auror went on muttering, as Harry obeyed reluctantly. He thought he heard something about his being old enough to know better. He shot Hermione a questioning look. "They have to make sure the platform is secure before they let us off the train," she informed him in a whisper.
Harry shook his head. He'd never seen security so tight; it had never been deemed necessary where he came from.
At last they were given clearance to disembark, and Harry went in search of his trunk. The compartment where he'd left it was now completely empty. Out of the window he could see the crowd of students meeting parents and saying goodbye to their friends for the summer. Perhaps some of them were saying goodbye forever, he thought with a shiver. Why did it seem that Voldemort was so much stronger here? So much was different about this world, but what was it that had allowed the enemy to gain so much more strength? Harry shook himself, collected his trunk and went to find Hermione on the platform. At the moment, his most pressing problem was convincing her mother to take him in until he could find a way to set things right.
He found Hermione on the other side of the barrier talking to an extraordinarily beautiful woman. He'd seen Hermione's mother once a long time ago, and at the time he'd not paid much attention to her. Now he wondered how he'd managed not to notice, even at the age of twelve. Hermione must take after her father in looks, Harry thought, perhaps a bit uncharitably, for her mother's hair was by no means bushy, and her teeth were on the small side.
Hermione turned to introduce Harry to her mother properly. "Mum, this is my friend, Harry." Harry noticed she didn't say boyfriend and wondered if her mother even knew about their relationship. "Harry, this is my mother, Helen."
Harry put out a hand. He had to swallow before he could speak, as Hermione's mother smiled at him. "Hello," was all he could manage.
"Hermione tells me you're coming to stay a bit earlier than planned, is that right?"
Harry looked at Hermione uncertainly. He had no idea what their actual plans had been. "Erm, yeah, that's right. If it's not inconvenient, that is."
"Not at all. I suddenly find myself in a very empty house as it happens." The note of bitterness in her tone was unmistakable. "But before I agree to anything, we need to make a few things clear. You sleep in the guest room and nowhere else." She looked hard at Harry, but he had no problem agreeing to this condition. "I'm a very busy woman, and I have no time to chaperone the two of you, so you have to promise me no funny business."
"That's not a problem, Mrs Granger. Hermione's not my girlfriend."
Hermione's mother narrowed her eyes dangerously, and for a moment Harry didn't think she'd believed him. He couldn't have been more sincere, however. "Please don't call me that," she said icily. "Ms Worthington will do nicely."
Harry cast another sidelong glance at Hermione, who looked apologetic. "Sorry, Mrs, erm, Ms Worthington."
Hermione's mother looked slightly less disapproving. "If we have that settled, I suppose you can stay."
"It's only until I can sort something out for myself. I really don't want to put you out, Ms Worthington."
Hermione's mother turned abruptly and began to walk out towards the street, leaving Hermione and Harry to push their laden trolleys in her wake. "Bit tetchy, isn't she?" Harry commented quietly.
"She's not usually like that. It's only since Dad left…" Hermione trailed off.
"Sorry about the name. I didn't know."
"She's been using her maiden name ever since this happened."
They continued in silence until they had reached Ms Worthington's car, which was parked around the corner. Once they'd crowded into the back of the car and were on their way, or rather moving at a snail's pace in the heavy traffic, they were forced to endure Ms Worthington's increasing impatience. She seemed to respond with particular vehemence to the male drivers. Harry noticed Hermione sinking down into her seat in obvious embarrassment.
They inched their way through until they were finally on the motorway headed for Hemel Hempstead. Then Hermione's mother started in on her father, and how he'd claimed to have been bored with the marriage, they'd been too comfortable… Harry was suddenly struck by the phrasing that was similar to what Hermione had said to him the other day at Hogwarts. She'd said she felt comfortable with him. He stared straight out the window at the passing Hertfordshire countryside; he didn't dare look over at Hermione at the moment.
As if on cue, her mother was now giving Hermione advice on men. "Don't settle for the first boy who comes along… Don't make the same mistakes I did…" Harry stared harder out the window, but he could almost sense Hermione slouching down even further on the seat beside him. He was mortified for her.
After an extremely excruciating trip, they finally arrived at Hermione's home--Harry had to force himself not to think of it as the Granger house--a cosy-looking row house with a neat garden in the front. It was located very close to a school, which seemed very appropriate to Harry. He looked at his watch and realised that the entire journey had lasted less than an hour, in spite of the traffic. It had seemed much, much longer.
Hermione avoided meeting Harry's eyes, as they struggled with their trunks. Although they could officially do magic whenever they chose now, Hermione's neighbours were much too close to take a chance of being seen. They had to make two trips, carrying first Hermione's and then Harry's trunk between them. Ms Worthington disappeared as soon as they had arrived. Hermione then showed Harry to the guest bedroom, a small but tastefully decorated nook with a sloping ceiling, returning presently with bed linens and some towels.
"Here. We can make up your bed, and then you can unpack." She moved to make up the bed, but Harry stopped her.
"Let me do that. I don't want to be a bother. I'm not even supposed to be here."
"Nonsense. It's no bother at all."
"Don't you have your own things to unpack?"
She didn't reply but busied herself with making up his bed. It seemed she wanted to do anything to keep busy and avoid conversation. Harry thought he understood. She was still embarrassed over what her mother had said in the car. Harry knew her mother's words had struck too close to home. He wondered how long Hermione's discomfiture would continue. He expected Hermione's mother would have to go to work at some point, leaving them to their own devices, and Harry knew they'd need to work together if he was going to find a way to get back to where he belonged.
*
They began to make plans the following day after breakfast. Hermione's mother had left for work by then--not before giving the two of them a final admonition not to get up to anything they oughtn't--and the day stretched out before them, vast and empty. Harry brought up the subject of visiting the Burrow almost at once.
"Hermione, how far is it to Ottery St. Catchpole?" he asked without preamble.
"Over a hundred miles. Harry, you can't be thinking of going over there."
"Yeah, I was actually."
"You can't. It's too dangerous."
"What do you mean too dangerous? We're talking about the Weasleys here. And I don't believe that story about Ron betraying me!" He felt as if she were babying him, and he didn't like it.
"But what about You-Know-Who?" she whispered.
That was a point. From what he'd seen yesterday on the train, Voldemort was more powerful here, but Harry knew he had to do something to rectify the situation, and that meant having the Weasleys on his side. He couldn't imagine any other way of operating. "How will Voldemort know what I'm up to? He doesn't even know where I am, does he?"
"Well, no. How could he know?"
"Only if he had a spy about. And if that were the case, why would he even wait to attack?" Hermione had told Harry the previous evening that her house was well-protected against Dark Magic. Dumbledore himself had cast the wards over it. Hermione was a prime target, because of her status as a Muggle-born and her friendship with Harry. Harry knew he was as safe here as he was anywhere else, with the added bonus of no one knowing where he was. How long it would take for his whereabouts to become known was another story. Dumbledore had, of course, been informed, but the enemy would learn he was here eventually, too. He had to act before this information got out, and he pointed this out to Hermione, who frowned.
"How are we going to get to the Burrow then?"
"Floo?"
"I'm not on the network. It's too dangerous. And I don't have a car, and we don't have our Apparition licenses yet."
"We'll just have to fly then."
"Don't be ridiculous! We'll be spotted for sure."
"There is the invisibility cloak, but we both can't fit under it on brooms. No, we'll have to go at night."
"Mum would never let me."
"She doesn't have to know. We'll sneak out then. Just like at school."
Hermione pursed her lips. Breaking rules at school was one thing, but her mother was evidently another force to be reckoned with. "I don't like this, Harry."
"Have you got a better suggestion?"
"No, but…" She hesitated, her brow furrowing in concentration. Harry reckoned she was looking for flaws in the plan. "All right. If we do this--and I'm not agreeing yet, mind you--we have to plan this carefully. How long will it take to fly to Ottery St. Catchpole?"
"Depends on how far it is. You said over a hundred miles. We need a map."
"Right, and that brings up another point. If we fly at night, how are we going to find our way?"
"Hermione! Are you a witch or not?" Hermione blushed at the reminder of their first year, quite possibly remembering that Ron had been the one to say that to her, as Harry drew out his wand and demonstrated the Four-Point Spell. "Seems to me, you were the one who discovered that one, not me."
Hermione changed the subject. "Then there's the matter of Mum…"
"Not if we sneak out at night," Harry protested.
"Well, we can't exactly turn up on the Weasleys' doorstep at three in the morning, can we? We'll have to time things so we arrive at a decent hour, which means we won't be here when Mum gets up in the morning. What's she going to think?"
Harry grudgingly admitted to himself that she had a point. He found it a bit irritating that she was always right. "Don't you ever have a lie-in?" he asked.
"No."
"Damn it." She opened her mouth to protest but on seeing Harry's look immediately thought better of it. Harry thought for a minute or two. Then he had an idea. "Listen, what if we told your mum that we were going out or something, and we'd be out late. Then she wouldn't expect us to get up the next morning. Come on, she'd have to buy that. It's the holidays, after all. We've finished school. Won't she expect us to celebrate?"
Hermione mulled this over a bit. "I don't know…" she said. "She'll think we stayed out all night in that case."
Harry ran an exasperated hand through his hair. He wondered how he managed to get along with her sometimes, and then he realised that when Ron was around he acted as sort of a buffer between them, his humour often lightening the atmosphere. "Hermione," he grated. "We don't actually have to stay out all night. We just make it look as if we've stayed out late. We can make some noise as we go out and hope your mum thinks we're coming in. And then we have to make sure we get back here before your mum gets suspicious."
"Harry, there are about a hundred holes in that plan."
"What's more important, Hermione, setting things right and trying to defeat Voldemort or staying on your mum's good side?"
"Well, when you put it that way…" Hermione got up, rummaged through a drawer and returned with a map.
*
At half past two in the morning, Harry silently opened the casement of the dormer window in his room and crept out onto the roof. He looked to his left to see Hermione doing the same. Earlier, they'd told Hermione's mother that they were going to the cinema and then to some sort of club Harry had never heard of. In reality, they'd hidden their brooms in the bushes of the back garden and gone to loiter in a nearby park, not saying much to each other and waiting for the time to pass, which it did. Slowly. At last it had been time for them to return to Hermione's house, and they'd entered a bit noisily as if they'd been drinking. Then they'd both gone into their rooms and waited for a half hour to make sure Hermione's mother was asleep before sneaking out of the house.
There was a conveniently located tree whose branches spread near Hermione's window. She had already jumped the gap and was clambering down. Luckily Dr Worthington's bedroom was on the opposite side of the house. As Harry moved along the eaves to follow Hermione, he thought ruefully how nice it would have been to have such a means of escape at the Dursleys'.
Once on the ground, they quickly located their brooms and kicked off into the night sky. Harry had a map in his pocket, but it would not be a whole lot of help in the dark. He'd brought it mostly in case of emergency: if they got truly lost they could land and get their bearings. He was planning to navigate using his wand as a guide. He performed the Four-Point Spell and turned his broom towards the south-west.
An hour and a half later, he was quite fed up. Hermione's broom was most definitely not the latest racing model, and Harry found it very irksome to have to reign himself in so that she could keep up. A time or two, he'd had to fight the urge to put on a burst of speed and pull ahead. He'd missed the feeling of freedom when he was flying these past months. In his life he'd spent them penned inside Hogwarts, and now he had an opportunity to spread his wings and found himself obliged to hold back for Hermione's sake.
"Do you think we're close yet?" Hermione called over to him.
"No idea." It was too dark to see anything, and Harry knew it was nearly four in the morning. If the sky had begun lightening at all he could not see it. Their backs were turned to where the sun would rise. "I think we're going to have to land and get our bearings."
He pointed his Firebolt towards the ground. Behind him, he heard Hermione follow on her Cleansweep. There was a dull thud as she landed, and Harry turned to see her picking herself up off the ground. He bit back an impatient sigh.
They seemed to be on the outskirts of a large town. They'd landed on pavement, and Harry noticed a sign up the road. Squinting at it, he made out Bournemouth. He pulled out the map and muttered, "Lumos." Hermione came to look over his shoulder.
"We've come too far south," Hermione informed him. "We must be on the northern side of the town, or we would have noticed the Channel."
"We'll have to fly due west from now on. Come on, we still have miles to go. Point me."
Harry kicked off again, heading west. After another half hour, they set down near the village of Northleigh. Harry consulted the map again. "Nearly there. What do you say we take a rest and wait until it's lighter out? In any case, we have to wait until the Weasleys are out of bed."
Hermione gave a half-hearted nod by way of reply, she was so exhausted. She didn't even think to protest about the possibility of being seen by Muggles, Harry noted. He turned and looked towards the east. The sky was definitely lighter. In another hour or so, it would be light enough to follow the road, and yet early enough to avoid all but the earliest risers. Harry stretched out on the ground and dozed off.
He awoke with a start. Hermione was shaking him.
"Mwhssi?"
"Wake up, Harry, it's nearly seven!"
They'd both fallen asleep, seemingly, and they'd been lucky no one had seen them. Harry shook off the last threads of the dream he'd been having, a dream of Ginny in the snow. He'd be seeing her soon, he though, anticipation thrilling through him.
"It's too late, we can't fly the rest of the way." Hermione sounded petulant. Her face was pale with lack of sleep.
Harry looked at the map again. "We've got almost ten miles to go. We can't walk that far. We won't get there until noon, and then we'll never make it back to your place in time. Besides, we'd have to fly back in broad daylight…"
Hermione still looked undecided, but Harry had had enough. He mounted his broom and kicked off once more, leaving her no choice but to follow him.
They landed at last in the Weasleys' front yard, fortunate to have escaped notice, as far as Harry could tell. Looking up at the Burrow, he was surprised to see it no longer looked as if it was on the verge of falling down. It now looked almost like a normal house, its walls square and its roof in repair. There were no chickens milling about in the yard, and the rusty cauldron, which Harry remembered was no longer next to the door. Harry turned to Hermione, who didn't look the least bit surprised to see the Burrow in this state, for an explanation.
"What?" she asked, perplexed by his questioning expression.
"What have they done to their house?"
"Oh, well, I imagine they've fixed it up a bit."
"A bit? Last I saw it, it was about to fall over."
"It hasn't been that bad for years."
"What do you mean?" Harry lowered his voice to a whisper. The yard was deserted, but he still didn't want to take any chances at being overheard. "Where did they get the money?"
"Mr Weasley was made Minister for Magic, didn't you know? After he caught Draco's father, he was in a very good position, and he was named to the post." Harry remembered Malfoy telling him about that in their dormitory.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Harry turned to see Ron coming out of the door. He did not look happy to see them.