"I don't mean to be rude, Mr. Potter, but . . . I really haven't any clue
who you are."
Harry's mouth dropped over. It must've been portrayed as a conceited facial expression, as Annabelle looked back at him crudely.
"I'm supposing you think yourself well-known?" She said crossly.
"No, I -- just . . . I'm surprised that I've met someone that finally doesn't know who I am. It's actually . . . nice."
"Oh," Annabelle said, her face turning neutral again.
"Yeah . . ."
"So, who are you?"
"I -- I'm, Harry Potter," he said, laughing.
"Yes," she giggled.
Harry leaned in and said, "Lord Voldemort!"
"What did you say?"
"Lord Voldemort."
"What, is that your father or something?" asked, in an innocent but curious tone of voice.
"No . . ." this girl was apparently a Muggle, though she was remarkably good-looking and very nice indeed. He wished to get to know her better. "So, how'd you find me in the first place?"
"Well, our guardian here, Missy, was at a funeral for a man named Sirius Black, the ex-convicted murderer. She saw you faint by his coffin. No one really knows you're here."
It was at that moment that panic-stricken thoughts started to come to him. Mrs. Weasley would start to worry about him desperately. Everyone would think that he was taken by Voldemort. What would he do? He had to contact the Weasleys or Dumbledore, at least. He couldn't stay with this Muggle girl, no matter how much he wanted to.
"Oh . . ." was all he could manage to say, disregarding all the thoughts that had come to him just minutes before.
She flashed a dazzling smile at Harry, and his heart melted. All thoughts of Vicki vanished as Annabelle said, "You just lie down here, and I'll come back for you later."
As she left, Harry looked outside the window. The sun shined brightly through the half-closed curtain. It was a cloudless, blue sky and Harry wanted to go outside.
So he did.
After he got dressed, his head started to throb, but stopped thinking about the pain. He wanted to go and spend time with this new girl Annabelle. She was so interesting. He wanted to find out what she was all about.
He left his designated room and started walking down the hall. He noticed that there were names carved in wood hanging on the door, which stated names. There were two names on each door and he supposed that these were the names of the residents at the BSAOC. He came across Annabelle's, and noticed that she had her own room. He couldn't help it, the temptation was too great. He found himself turning her doorknob. If she was in there, great, if she wasn't, great.
He found the room empty.
It was a pale pink, with flowers sporadically painted along the walls. She had a white canopied bed with a pink comforter, along with a white pillow. She had an oak bureau and vanity, which had pink flowers sketched onto the fronts of the drawers. There was a towering bookcase with what must have been a thousand books in it. He noticed a pair of double French doors, which were open, leading out onto the balcony. He walked to her oak desk and ran his fingers along it. He saw a letter on the desk and was in the midst of picking it up when he heard a blood-curdling scream behind him.
He whipped around and saw a girl of about eleven with blond-pigtails with her hands over her face screaming bloomin' murder.
"A BOY! A BOY IS IN ANNA'S ROOM! MISSY! A BOY! A BOY!"
And with this, he heard about twenty doors opening and shutting resounding around the house. About a hundred footsteps shuffled towards Annabelle's room, a middle-aged woman among them.
"Girls, girls, girls . . . this boy is no intruder. We picked him up at the funeral, because he fainted. No need to overreact."
Many girls were questioning his credibility, while one girl, of about six, perked up and asked, "Missy, what's his name?"
"Harry Potter."
The girl looked at him coldly, squeaked, and ran off into her room. It left the remainder of the girls extremely confused, but just disregarded the girl's odd reaction and went back to staring at Harry, with increasing curiousity.
The woman named Missy moved towards Harry and put her hand on his back, "I think you'll find it rather comfortable here. You're going to be staying here for a couple weeks until you fully recover from the grief you must be feeling. This is Annabelle, I believe you've already met. She's seventeen, I'm suspecting around your age, and she mostly helps me take care of the other girls here. The other children are aged from six to thirteen. I hope you'll have a good vacation here . . ."
"But, Ms. Missy--" the other girls laughed at the remark, "I should really contact the . . . er --- relatives I was staying with. Don't you think they'll be worried?"
"No need, Mr. Potter, no need . . . you'll be fine."
She walked towards the group of girls and said, "Now, shoo, I'm sure this older boy," the girls giggled, and Missy smiled, "won't want to be bothered by a bunch of girls . . ." She turned to Annabelle and said, "Would you mind showing him around the area and the house?"
"Of course not . . ."
Missy walked out the door and down the halls, echoes of, "He was cute, I want to be seventeen!" reverberating against the large, circular ceiling.
Annabelle turned to Harry, while his heart started beating faster, and said, "I'll show you around the house and then we can go out for a walk. I'm sure you're tired of lying around the house, and plus, I could use a break from all these bratty girls . . ."
"Sure . . . but one question, who's that one girl that ran off at the sight of me?" Harry asked innocently.
"Oh . . . she reacts oddly to everybody that comes through this house . . . we just think she's got a thing against boys . . . but anyway, her name is Liza."
But Harry had a weird feeling that that wasn't the real reason . . . he actually knew that wasn't the reason . . .
Liza was a witch.
Annabelle looked at Harry oddly, who had a dazed look on his face. He seemed to be thinking very hard.
"Harry, are you all right?"
Harry snapped out of it, and looked quickly up at Annabelle, embarrassed at his temporary stupor. "Yes, I'm fine, thanks."
"Well, now that you're . . . er, awake, again . . . we can get started with the tour!"
She started walking towards the door and Harry followed. As they exited her room, he looked to his left, and there stood Liza. He needed to know more about this little girl.
"Ah, Annabelle, could you please excuse me for a moment? I want to have a little talk with Liza and tell her to not be afraid of me, as I'm not going to hurt anyone."
"Oh, good, I'll come with y-"
"No, don't . . . go downstairs and tell Missy that we're going out now, I'll be down in a few moments, I shan't be long."
"Well, okay," Annabelle gave him an odd look and walked down the spiral staircase.
Harry stooped down to Liza's four foot level and said, "You recognize me, don't you?"
She stood frozen there, looking into Harry's eyes.
"There's no need to be afraid, I just . . . need to know."
She slowly nodded in response. Harry pulled her into her room and said, "Liza, are you a witch?"
She nodded again.
"What do you know about me?"
"My parents told me to stay away from you. They say you bad man."
At this, he knew that her parents must be supporters of Voldemort.
"Why's that?"
"Say you defeated Voldimort and now he's dying."
"Voldemort's dying?" Harry asked, alert and aware now.
She nodded her head, biting her nails.
"Where is she?"
"I can't tell you, you bad man."
"LIZA!" he roared, as he grabbed Liza very harshly on both arms.
At that moment, he heard a very loud voice yell, "Mr. Potter! Get your hands off of that girl right now!"
Harry whipped around, dropped Liza's arms and saw Missy marching straight towards him, looking vicious. He tried to look as innocent as possible.
"What were you doing to Liza?" Missy asked.
"I wasn't doing anything I was just --"
He looked over to the little girl and saw that she had begun to cry.
"Liza, what is it?" she asked sweetly.
"He--he--he was going to take me away from all you!" she wailed.
"Mr. Potter," she said harshly, "I think it's about time you called your relatives, or whoever the heck they are, so they can come and pick you up!"
Harry nodded to Missy as she began to walk away. Liza, who was looking behind her, stuck her tongue out at Harry, and that was the last he saw of that group of girls . . . or so he thought.
"Why'd you go without telling me, Harry! Those girls practically kidnapped you! You knew, didn't you, that you wouldn't be able to handle his funeral alone? What made you think you could?"
Mrs. Weasley was shrieking in his ear, on the verge of fainting. Harry was sitting in the Weasley kitchen, with Hermione, Ron, Vicki, Fred, George, and Ginny staring back at him.
"You've had me worried sick, but, as I'm not your legal guardian, and Sirius was, I have not the right to punish you. Though, as your vacations here amounted, you've become more and more like a son to me, and I've grown to love you as if you were my own. I think that I deserve that respect as I've given you these past seven years!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with anger.
He did nothing. He knew she was disappointed in him, and that was worst of all, besides, as guilty as he felt, he knew he'd never see Annabelle again.
He looked at Vicki, who was suspiciously eyeing Ron. He supposed that she was still angry with him for being mad at Harry.
"Harry, I don't want you to get hurt, and when you've been missing these past two days, I hadn't any idea what happened to you. I alerted the Ministry and Dumbledore and it caused an outright uproar! I just don't understand how you could've not communicated with us somehow, so we could come and get you."
Even though Harry had told Missy that he ought to call the Weasleys, he knew that deep in his heart that he hadn't wanted to. He was almost glad that she said there wasn't a need to. He wanted to stay with Annabelle and learn more about her. But, now he'd lost his chance. He'd never see her again . . . never get to see her beautiful smile again.
But then, he looked at Vicki, who smiled back at him, and made him feel on top of the world again. He loved Vicki so, this Annabelle fling would go away in just a few days.
"Mrs. Weasley, I know I've disappointed you, and that is enough punishment for me already, without you yelling my ear off. I understand all you've said and I am very sorry. But, could I please be excused now, so I can go to bed?"
It took a few minutes, but Mrs. Weasley finally nodded, flopping down on a kitchen chair, putting her hand over her heart.
As Harry exited the room, Vicki stood up and said, "I'm going with him . . ."
Harry thought, "Yes, this is what I need, some quality time with my girlfriend . . . perhaps she's the only that will understand."
Vicki caught up with Harry and laced her fingers around his.
"I was so worried about you, Harry," she whispered into his ears.
Guilt started to sink in.
"I love you so much."
Still, he said nothing. The guilt and remorse for wanting Annabelle was amounting.
"I don't ever want to leave you . . . you're my everything, Harry."
He was about to explode. He'd have to tell her.
"Will you marry me?"
His guilt was contained. The shock of the question that lay before him was starting to envelope his brain. Has Vicki really just asked me to marry her? Yes . . . so she had. What would Harry sa--?
"Yes, Vicki, I will marry you."
Her eyes seemed to light up at the very words that came out of Harry's mouth. Had he really said that? At seventeen, he was engaged? Was he truthfully ready to get married?
"Harry . . . this will be a wonderful life . . . we won't get married until we're out of Hogwarts, of course, but just knowing that I'm engaged already . . ."
Was he ready to spend the rest of his life with this girl? A girl he hadn't even made love to before?
"I love you so much, Harry."
Was she really going to be the last girl and first girl he'd have intercourse with?
"Do you love me, Harry?"
Was she the only girl he'd ever love, truly?
"Harry...?"
Was she the last girl he'd experience?
"HARRY!"
He seemed to have awoken from his momentary stupor and said, "What was the question?"
She looked hurt . . . he could see it in her eyes.
"Do you love me, Harry?" she asked feebly.
"Of course, I love you, Victoria. How could I not?"
He smiled in reassurance and that familiar light returned to her eyes, such a lovely light that he'd admired since the first day he laid eyes upon her.
They continued walking up the steps and entered Harry's room. Harry got into bed and Vicki climbed in after him.
They turned to each other, so they could talk before falling asleep.
"Do you think Mrs. Weasley will be mad at me for long?"
"No . . . she's just worried more than anything. Plus, if she is, we go back to school tomorrow!"
Harry had completely forgotten. He sat upright in his bed and said, "Oh my gosh! I have nothing packed!"
"Don't worry, Harry, I took care of everything for you," she smiled.
"See, that's why I love you so much . . ."
"Come on, you all--"
Mrs. Weasley's eyes had fallen upon the entwined Vicki and Harry. Had they . . . . what were they . . . in my own house?
Harry woke up, due to the sunlight pouring into his eyes and looked over to his right, and was fully awake when he saw Mrs. Weasley looking, horrified, at Vicki and he. What was she thinking right now!
He jumped out of bed, startling Vicki, who also saw Mrs. Weasley, and also jumped out of bed.
"Mrs. Weasley, as you can see . . . we're still fully clothed. I don't want you thinking . . ."
"I don't believe in premarital relations!"
"Nothing happened, I would never have . . . ."
Mrs. Weasley just nodded in angry skepticism and walked out of the room.
"ARGH! Just what I need, something more to anger her!"
Vicki put her arms around his waste, kissed his neck and said, "We don't need them . . . we don't need them at all."
The four people that were going to Hogwarts that morning were all packed and ready to go at seven o'clock AM, disregarding the fact that they were all highly exhausted. Mrs. Weasley was still not speaking to Harry, or Vicki, for that matter. It seemed as if she couldn't trust them anymore, and that hurt Harry very much. After all, Mrs. Weasley was the only true mother figure he'd ever had in his life and her being disappointed in him was just as bad as if his own mother were.
Mrs. Weasley was staring at Harry, and it looked as if with disgust.
He felt someone's arm going around his neck and he looked to his left, seeing Vicki getting on her tip-toes so she could kiss Harry.
It was a pleasant surprise for Harry, with her mint toothpaste breath, and opened his eyes, but saw that Vicki was looking over at Mrs. Weasley. Harry did so also, and saw that the look of disgust was growing more apparent, and Vicki started grabbing his bottom and kissing him deeper.
Harry finally pulled away, seeing that Mrs. Weasley's face was looking so mutilated he even was disgusted, and said, under his breath, "Vicki, what are you doing?"
"Just showing my affection . . . I don't like Ron's mother. She acts as if we can't be in love since we're only seventeen and reacts to us as if we shouldn't even be together. I'm just having a bit of fun."
"Let's go," Mrs. Weasley barked.
The four of them started filing out the door, Harry at the back of the line, but felt an arm hold him back.
It was Mrs. Weasley, and Harry was now staring into her eyes, which were looking cold and gray as opposed to the nice blue twinkle that usually lingered there.
"Harry, I find no fault in your relationship with Victoria, but I think you ought to take a deeper look . . ." she said as she nodded out the door.
There was Vicki standing next to Ginny. She looked as if she was having nothing more than a cordial conversation with her, ignoring the look of terror on Ginny's face.
Harry nodded in reply, and walked out of the door.
The vehicles that were taking the lot of them to King's Cross Station must have been Ministry Cars. But, Harry was even more confused, as he thought Mr. Weasley was dead. He turned around to ask Mrs. Weasley this, but she was looking thoroughly miffed. He decided to ignore the question, as it now seemed stupid and unimportant.
Of course, Vicki had to be next to Mrs. Weasley in the car and also next to Ron, the two people in the world that disliked her most.
Vicki started talking, loudly, "So, Harry, where do you want to go on our honeymoon?"
The water that Mrs. Weasley had been drinking sputtered out of her mouth and came flying onto Harry, a very fine mist that settled on his sweater.
Why did she have to bring this up now? What was she trying to do to him? Make Mrs. Weasley hate him even more?
"HONEYMOON!?" she shrieked.
"I--I--we hadn't--"
"HONEYMOON!!!"
"Of course we discussed it Harry! Last night, after we had that long, wonderful nigh--"
"VICTORIA! HAH-HAH! I haven't any idea what you're on about!" Harry smiled nervously, looking at Ron, who looked as if he'd been struck through the heart with a dagger.
"Of course he does," she said, hitting Ron on the lap, "he asked me to marry him during the luxurious bath we had together, in your . . . er . . . large bathtub," she said, looking at Mrs. Weasley now.
Harry knew just as well as the rest of them that their bathtub was not large at all. It merely consisted of a wooden bucket with a shower curtain surrounding it.
Mrs. Weasley looked daggers at Vicki, as though she was tempted to throw her out of the car.
Harry looked harshly at Vicki and said, "Mrs. Weasley, I'm really sorry . . ."
She looked at Harry as if nothing could apologize for Vicki's actions.
The rest of the ride was ridden in silence, until they arrived at King's Cross, when Vicki and Harry conversed quietly while waiting for trolleys to take their luggage to Platform 9 and 3/4.
"Vicki, why were you making up all those lies about last night and making fun of the Weasleys?"
"Oh Harry," she said as she playfully hit him, "they take everything to seriously, and so do you! I was just kidding around."
Harry definitely knew that she had meant every word that she said, but when she flashed him that dazzling smile of hers, she ignored the right thing pressing in on her brain and his heart melted into hers again.
Harry's mouth dropped over. It must've been portrayed as a conceited facial expression, as Annabelle looked back at him crudely.
"I'm supposing you think yourself well-known?" She said crossly.
"No, I -- just . . . I'm surprised that I've met someone that finally doesn't know who I am. It's actually . . . nice."
"Oh," Annabelle said, her face turning neutral again.
"Yeah . . ."
"So, who are you?"
"I -- I'm, Harry Potter," he said, laughing.
"Yes," she giggled.
Harry leaned in and said, "Lord Voldemort!"
"What did you say?"
"Lord Voldemort."
"What, is that your father or something?" asked, in an innocent but curious tone of voice.
"No . . ." this girl was apparently a Muggle, though she was remarkably good-looking and very nice indeed. He wished to get to know her better. "So, how'd you find me in the first place?"
"Well, our guardian here, Missy, was at a funeral for a man named Sirius Black, the ex-convicted murderer. She saw you faint by his coffin. No one really knows you're here."
It was at that moment that panic-stricken thoughts started to come to him. Mrs. Weasley would start to worry about him desperately. Everyone would think that he was taken by Voldemort. What would he do? He had to contact the Weasleys or Dumbledore, at least. He couldn't stay with this Muggle girl, no matter how much he wanted to.
"Oh . . ." was all he could manage to say, disregarding all the thoughts that had come to him just minutes before.
She flashed a dazzling smile at Harry, and his heart melted. All thoughts of Vicki vanished as Annabelle said, "You just lie down here, and I'll come back for you later."
As she left, Harry looked outside the window. The sun shined brightly through the half-closed curtain. It was a cloudless, blue sky and Harry wanted to go outside.
So he did.
After he got dressed, his head started to throb, but stopped thinking about the pain. He wanted to go and spend time with this new girl Annabelle. She was so interesting. He wanted to find out what she was all about.
He left his designated room and started walking down the hall. He noticed that there were names carved in wood hanging on the door, which stated names. There were two names on each door and he supposed that these were the names of the residents at the BSAOC. He came across Annabelle's, and noticed that she had her own room. He couldn't help it, the temptation was too great. He found himself turning her doorknob. If she was in there, great, if she wasn't, great.
He found the room empty.
It was a pale pink, with flowers sporadically painted along the walls. She had a white canopied bed with a pink comforter, along with a white pillow. She had an oak bureau and vanity, which had pink flowers sketched onto the fronts of the drawers. There was a towering bookcase with what must have been a thousand books in it. He noticed a pair of double French doors, which were open, leading out onto the balcony. He walked to her oak desk and ran his fingers along it. He saw a letter on the desk and was in the midst of picking it up when he heard a blood-curdling scream behind him.
He whipped around and saw a girl of about eleven with blond-pigtails with her hands over her face screaming bloomin' murder.
"A BOY! A BOY IS IN ANNA'S ROOM! MISSY! A BOY! A BOY!"
And with this, he heard about twenty doors opening and shutting resounding around the house. About a hundred footsteps shuffled towards Annabelle's room, a middle-aged woman among them.
"Girls, girls, girls . . . this boy is no intruder. We picked him up at the funeral, because he fainted. No need to overreact."
Many girls were questioning his credibility, while one girl, of about six, perked up and asked, "Missy, what's his name?"
"Harry Potter."
The girl looked at him coldly, squeaked, and ran off into her room. It left the remainder of the girls extremely confused, but just disregarded the girl's odd reaction and went back to staring at Harry, with increasing curiousity.
The woman named Missy moved towards Harry and put her hand on his back, "I think you'll find it rather comfortable here. You're going to be staying here for a couple weeks until you fully recover from the grief you must be feeling. This is Annabelle, I believe you've already met. She's seventeen, I'm suspecting around your age, and she mostly helps me take care of the other girls here. The other children are aged from six to thirteen. I hope you'll have a good vacation here . . ."
"But, Ms. Missy--" the other girls laughed at the remark, "I should really contact the . . . er --- relatives I was staying with. Don't you think they'll be worried?"
"No need, Mr. Potter, no need . . . you'll be fine."
She walked towards the group of girls and said, "Now, shoo, I'm sure this older boy," the girls giggled, and Missy smiled, "won't want to be bothered by a bunch of girls . . ." She turned to Annabelle and said, "Would you mind showing him around the area and the house?"
"Of course not . . ."
Missy walked out the door and down the halls, echoes of, "He was cute, I want to be seventeen!" reverberating against the large, circular ceiling.
Annabelle turned to Harry, while his heart started beating faster, and said, "I'll show you around the house and then we can go out for a walk. I'm sure you're tired of lying around the house, and plus, I could use a break from all these bratty girls . . ."
"Sure . . . but one question, who's that one girl that ran off at the sight of me?" Harry asked innocently.
"Oh . . . she reacts oddly to everybody that comes through this house . . . we just think she's got a thing against boys . . . but anyway, her name is Liza."
But Harry had a weird feeling that that wasn't the real reason . . . he actually knew that wasn't the reason . . .
Liza was a witch.
Annabelle looked at Harry oddly, who had a dazed look on his face. He seemed to be thinking very hard.
"Harry, are you all right?"
Harry snapped out of it, and looked quickly up at Annabelle, embarrassed at his temporary stupor. "Yes, I'm fine, thanks."
"Well, now that you're . . . er, awake, again . . . we can get started with the tour!"
She started walking towards the door and Harry followed. As they exited her room, he looked to his left, and there stood Liza. He needed to know more about this little girl.
"Ah, Annabelle, could you please excuse me for a moment? I want to have a little talk with Liza and tell her to not be afraid of me, as I'm not going to hurt anyone."
"Oh, good, I'll come with y-"
"No, don't . . . go downstairs and tell Missy that we're going out now, I'll be down in a few moments, I shan't be long."
"Well, okay," Annabelle gave him an odd look and walked down the spiral staircase.
Harry stooped down to Liza's four foot level and said, "You recognize me, don't you?"
She stood frozen there, looking into Harry's eyes.
"There's no need to be afraid, I just . . . need to know."
She slowly nodded in response. Harry pulled her into her room and said, "Liza, are you a witch?"
She nodded again.
"What do you know about me?"
"My parents told me to stay away from you. They say you bad man."
At this, he knew that her parents must be supporters of Voldemort.
"Why's that?"
"Say you defeated Voldimort and now he's dying."
"Voldemort's dying?" Harry asked, alert and aware now.
She nodded her head, biting her nails.
"Where is she?"
"I can't tell you, you bad man."
"LIZA!" he roared, as he grabbed Liza very harshly on both arms.
At that moment, he heard a very loud voice yell, "Mr. Potter! Get your hands off of that girl right now!"
Harry whipped around, dropped Liza's arms and saw Missy marching straight towards him, looking vicious. He tried to look as innocent as possible.
"What were you doing to Liza?" Missy asked.
"I wasn't doing anything I was just --"
He looked over to the little girl and saw that she had begun to cry.
"Liza, what is it?" she asked sweetly.
"He--he--he was going to take me away from all you!" she wailed.
"Mr. Potter," she said harshly, "I think it's about time you called your relatives, or whoever the heck they are, so they can come and pick you up!"
Harry nodded to Missy as she began to walk away. Liza, who was looking behind her, stuck her tongue out at Harry, and that was the last he saw of that group of girls . . . or so he thought.
"Why'd you go without telling me, Harry! Those girls practically kidnapped you! You knew, didn't you, that you wouldn't be able to handle his funeral alone? What made you think you could?"
Mrs. Weasley was shrieking in his ear, on the verge of fainting. Harry was sitting in the Weasley kitchen, with Hermione, Ron, Vicki, Fred, George, and Ginny staring back at him.
"You've had me worried sick, but, as I'm not your legal guardian, and Sirius was, I have not the right to punish you. Though, as your vacations here amounted, you've become more and more like a son to me, and I've grown to love you as if you were my own. I think that I deserve that respect as I've given you these past seven years!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with anger.
He did nothing. He knew she was disappointed in him, and that was worst of all, besides, as guilty as he felt, he knew he'd never see Annabelle again.
He looked at Vicki, who was suspiciously eyeing Ron. He supposed that she was still angry with him for being mad at Harry.
"Harry, I don't want you to get hurt, and when you've been missing these past two days, I hadn't any idea what happened to you. I alerted the Ministry and Dumbledore and it caused an outright uproar! I just don't understand how you could've not communicated with us somehow, so we could come and get you."
Even though Harry had told Missy that he ought to call the Weasleys, he knew that deep in his heart that he hadn't wanted to. He was almost glad that she said there wasn't a need to. He wanted to stay with Annabelle and learn more about her. But, now he'd lost his chance. He'd never see her again . . . never get to see her beautiful smile again.
But then, he looked at Vicki, who smiled back at him, and made him feel on top of the world again. He loved Vicki so, this Annabelle fling would go away in just a few days.
"Mrs. Weasley, I know I've disappointed you, and that is enough punishment for me already, without you yelling my ear off. I understand all you've said and I am very sorry. But, could I please be excused now, so I can go to bed?"
It took a few minutes, but Mrs. Weasley finally nodded, flopping down on a kitchen chair, putting her hand over her heart.
As Harry exited the room, Vicki stood up and said, "I'm going with him . . ."
Harry thought, "Yes, this is what I need, some quality time with my girlfriend . . . perhaps she's the only that will understand."
Vicki caught up with Harry and laced her fingers around his.
"I was so worried about you, Harry," she whispered into his ears.
Guilt started to sink in.
"I love you so much."
Still, he said nothing. The guilt and remorse for wanting Annabelle was amounting.
"I don't ever want to leave you . . . you're my everything, Harry."
He was about to explode. He'd have to tell her.
"Will you marry me?"
His guilt was contained. The shock of the question that lay before him was starting to envelope his brain. Has Vicki really just asked me to marry her? Yes . . . so she had. What would Harry sa--?
"Yes, Vicki, I will marry you."
Her eyes seemed to light up at the very words that came out of Harry's mouth. Had he really said that? At seventeen, he was engaged? Was he truthfully ready to get married?
"Harry . . . this will be a wonderful life . . . we won't get married until we're out of Hogwarts, of course, but just knowing that I'm engaged already . . ."
Was he ready to spend the rest of his life with this girl? A girl he hadn't even made love to before?
"I love you so much, Harry."
Was she really going to be the last girl and first girl he'd have intercourse with?
"Do you love me, Harry?"
Was she the only girl he'd ever love, truly?
"Harry...?"
Was she the last girl he'd experience?
"HARRY!"
He seemed to have awoken from his momentary stupor and said, "What was the question?"
She looked hurt . . . he could see it in her eyes.
"Do you love me, Harry?" she asked feebly.
"Of course, I love you, Victoria. How could I not?"
He smiled in reassurance and that familiar light returned to her eyes, such a lovely light that he'd admired since the first day he laid eyes upon her.
They continued walking up the steps and entered Harry's room. Harry got into bed and Vicki climbed in after him.
They turned to each other, so they could talk before falling asleep.
"Do you think Mrs. Weasley will be mad at me for long?"
"No . . . she's just worried more than anything. Plus, if she is, we go back to school tomorrow!"
Harry had completely forgotten. He sat upright in his bed and said, "Oh my gosh! I have nothing packed!"
"Don't worry, Harry, I took care of everything for you," she smiled.
"See, that's why I love you so much . . ."
"Come on, you all--"
Mrs. Weasley's eyes had fallen upon the entwined Vicki and Harry. Had they . . . . what were they . . . in my own house?
Harry woke up, due to the sunlight pouring into his eyes and looked over to his right, and was fully awake when he saw Mrs. Weasley looking, horrified, at Vicki and he. What was she thinking right now!
He jumped out of bed, startling Vicki, who also saw Mrs. Weasley, and also jumped out of bed.
"Mrs. Weasley, as you can see . . . we're still fully clothed. I don't want you thinking . . ."
"I don't believe in premarital relations!"
"Nothing happened, I would never have . . . ."
Mrs. Weasley just nodded in angry skepticism and walked out of the room.
"ARGH! Just what I need, something more to anger her!"
Vicki put her arms around his waste, kissed his neck and said, "We don't need them . . . we don't need them at all."
The four people that were going to Hogwarts that morning were all packed and ready to go at seven o'clock AM, disregarding the fact that they were all highly exhausted. Mrs. Weasley was still not speaking to Harry, or Vicki, for that matter. It seemed as if she couldn't trust them anymore, and that hurt Harry very much. After all, Mrs. Weasley was the only true mother figure he'd ever had in his life and her being disappointed in him was just as bad as if his own mother were.
Mrs. Weasley was staring at Harry, and it looked as if with disgust.
He felt someone's arm going around his neck and he looked to his left, seeing Vicki getting on her tip-toes so she could kiss Harry.
It was a pleasant surprise for Harry, with her mint toothpaste breath, and opened his eyes, but saw that Vicki was looking over at Mrs. Weasley. Harry did so also, and saw that the look of disgust was growing more apparent, and Vicki started grabbing his bottom and kissing him deeper.
Harry finally pulled away, seeing that Mrs. Weasley's face was looking so mutilated he even was disgusted, and said, under his breath, "Vicki, what are you doing?"
"Just showing my affection . . . I don't like Ron's mother. She acts as if we can't be in love since we're only seventeen and reacts to us as if we shouldn't even be together. I'm just having a bit of fun."
"Let's go," Mrs. Weasley barked.
The four of them started filing out the door, Harry at the back of the line, but felt an arm hold him back.
It was Mrs. Weasley, and Harry was now staring into her eyes, which were looking cold and gray as opposed to the nice blue twinkle that usually lingered there.
"Harry, I find no fault in your relationship with Victoria, but I think you ought to take a deeper look . . ." she said as she nodded out the door.
There was Vicki standing next to Ginny. She looked as if she was having nothing more than a cordial conversation with her, ignoring the look of terror on Ginny's face.
Harry nodded in reply, and walked out of the door.
The vehicles that were taking the lot of them to King's Cross Station must have been Ministry Cars. But, Harry was even more confused, as he thought Mr. Weasley was dead. He turned around to ask Mrs. Weasley this, but she was looking thoroughly miffed. He decided to ignore the question, as it now seemed stupid and unimportant.
Of course, Vicki had to be next to Mrs. Weasley in the car and also next to Ron, the two people in the world that disliked her most.
Vicki started talking, loudly, "So, Harry, where do you want to go on our honeymoon?"
The water that Mrs. Weasley had been drinking sputtered out of her mouth and came flying onto Harry, a very fine mist that settled on his sweater.
Why did she have to bring this up now? What was she trying to do to him? Make Mrs. Weasley hate him even more?
"HONEYMOON!?" she shrieked.
"I--I--we hadn't--"
"HONEYMOON!!!"
"Of course we discussed it Harry! Last night, after we had that long, wonderful nigh--"
"VICTORIA! HAH-HAH! I haven't any idea what you're on about!" Harry smiled nervously, looking at Ron, who looked as if he'd been struck through the heart with a dagger.
"Of course he does," she said, hitting Ron on the lap, "he asked me to marry him during the luxurious bath we had together, in your . . . er . . . large bathtub," she said, looking at Mrs. Weasley now.
Harry knew just as well as the rest of them that their bathtub was not large at all. It merely consisted of a wooden bucket with a shower curtain surrounding it.
Mrs. Weasley looked daggers at Vicki, as though she was tempted to throw her out of the car.
Harry looked harshly at Vicki and said, "Mrs. Weasley, I'm really sorry . . ."
She looked at Harry as if nothing could apologize for Vicki's actions.
The rest of the ride was ridden in silence, until they arrived at King's Cross, when Vicki and Harry conversed quietly while waiting for trolleys to take their luggage to Platform 9 and 3/4.
"Vicki, why were you making up all those lies about last night and making fun of the Weasleys?"
"Oh Harry," she said as she playfully hit him, "they take everything to seriously, and so do you! I was just kidding around."
Harry definitely knew that she had meant every word that she said, but when she flashed him that dazzling smile of hers, she ignored the right thing pressing in on her brain and his heart melted into hers again.