A Harry Situation
By Jill Weber/ Jelsemium
Characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling and used without permission or intent to make a profit.

Chapter 16: The Best Laid Plans

Of Viktor and Visitors:
Viktor Krum was practicing his smile. He didn't need the practice for Hermione, of course. She put a smile on his face whether he wanted it there or not. Nor did Viktor anticipate having any trouble greeting Hermione's mother. What was bothering him was the third member of the Granger party.

When Viktor had invited Hermione to come visit him, he had expected a chaperone to accompany her. She was only fifteen years old, after all. When it turned out that both of her parents were coming, Viktor had taken that to be a good sign. When a girl gets interested in a man, it's only natural for her parents to want to meet him.

Then Mr. Granger had been unable to come. That was all right, also. Hermione's father was welcome to visit at another time. Any excuse to have Hermione come was a good one. Then his parents had invited Hermione to bring a friend in Rupert Granger's place. The Portkey reservation was for three people. His parents had thought it would be a shame to lose the deposit.

The first thought that entered Viktor's mind was that the guest would be Harry Potter. He hadn't said anything, but he hadn't needed to. His whole family knew that Hermione Granger was friends with The-Boy-Who-Lived. The speculation started immediately and there was nothing Viktor could do, unless he wanted to move out of his parents home.

Now Hermione and her party were downstairs. His parents had met them at the Portkey terminal because Viktor had been at Quidditch practice. He'd arrived home with barely enough time to shower and change before his guests had arrived.

He was bracing himself to be friendly with Potter. It should be easy, he and Potter had much in common. He liked the Boy-Who-Lived, he reminded himself firmly. Viktor's smile came easier as he remembered that Potter was still a boy, while he was a grown man with an established career and a handsome income.

Viktor? Are you ready? Your guests have arrived! his younger brother, Foma, pounded cheerfully on the door. You said the girl you're interested in had brown hair, right? You're not interested in the red-head?

What are you talking about? Viktor asked irritably. He opened the bathroom door and glared.

Oh, come on! urged his brother. You look perfect! Foma grabbed Viktor by the arm and hauled him downstairs.

They were followed by their sisters, but Viktor gave the familiar trio no thought as he looked over at an unfamiliar trio of females.

There was Hermione, smiling up at him and looking more beautiful than he remembered her. Next to her was an older woman. Mrs. Granger did not look much like her daughter (Rather, Hermione did not look much like her mother, Viktor supposed.) Mrs. Granger's hair was brown, but it lacked the vibrant energy and glorious red highlights that Hermione's had.

Speaking of glorious and red, the third member of the party, Hermione's friend, had hair that put the setting sun to shame. She also had large brown eyes, delicate features and a winsome smile. Viktor could understand why his brother was interested. The girl was very pretty for somebody who wasn't Hermione.

"Viktor!" Hermione said happily. She spoke in rather stilted Bulgarian. I'd like to introduce my mother, Mrs. Emma Granger, and my friend, Ginny Weasley.

Viktor shook the older woman's hand first. "I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Granger," he said carefully.

Thank you, Mrs. Granger said in careful Bulgarian. The pleasure is mine. She switched to English. "Your English is much better than my Bulgarian, I'm sure."

"Your Bulgarian is fine," Viktor said honestly. He had heard his native tongue completely butchered before. Mrs. Granger's careful enunciation was a bit stilted, but far from the worst that he'd heard.

"It's very kind of you to invite my daughter and more than kind to include my husband and me in the invitation," Mrs. Granger added with a smile. Hermione had inherited that smile and Viktor found himself liking the woman.

"It is nothing," Viktor said. "I am sorry only that your husband was unable to come. I would have liked to have met him."

"Rupert was disappointed that he couldn't come," Mrs. Granger said.

Viktor turned towards the red-haired girl and hoped she wasn't the giggly type.

"Miss Weasley? It is a pleasure to have you here."

Thank you, Ginny said in passable Bulgarian. Her accent was a bit off, but Viktor suspected that his English was just as odd. Please, call me Ginny. She was forced to switch to her native tongue here. "It was very kind of your family to allow me to tag along at the last minute."

"The pleasure is all ours, Ginny," Viktor said, relieved that she hadn't giggled once. And her name was blessedly easy to pronounce. "Did you encounter any problems in traveling? You were not worried traveling, just the three of you?"

"No, we had no trouble," Ginny said. "We had company all of the way. One of my brothers traveled until your parents met us. Your parents asked him to stay, but Charlie had business to attend to. He's going to try to visit a little later this week."

"You've met my parents," Viktor said to the three English witches. "And this is my brother, Foma, and my sisters, Katerina, Marketa, and Iulia."

"We are so happy to have you with us!" Viktor's oldest sister, Katerina said.

"How is it you know Hermione?" Iulia, the youngest Krum asked. "Are you in the same year as she?"

"No, I'm in the year behind her," Ginny said.

Her youngest brother Ron is in my year, Hermione said in stilted Bulgarian. She then switched to English. "Do you remember Ron, Viktor? He asked for your autograph just before we left Hogwarts. And you may remember seeing Ginny's mother and her oldest brother, Bill. They came to support Harry in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

Viktor vaguely remembered a tall boy with bright red hair who had been with Hermione on occasion. He also vaguely remembered the tall redhead who'd been with Potter. It seemed like Ginny had an endless supply of brothers. He felt pity for Foma, if he really intended to pay court to a girl with a small army at her disposal.

Before he could say anything, Marketa interrupted. "You know Harry Potter, also?" she asked Ginny, eyes sparkling.

"Oh, yes," Ginny said. "He and my brother Ron are best friends. Harry usually spends at least part of the summer with us."

Smiling gleefully, even triumphantly, Viktor's sisters descended upon his guests and led the way to the guest quarters; all of them chattering away in a mixture of inexpert English and schoolgirl Bulgarian.

"Get the suitcases, will you, Viktor? Foma?" Katerina asked over her shoulder.

The English witches had their hands full with their animal cages and their purses. There were three owls and two cats with them, but surprisingly little luggage. In fact, they'd only brought one suitcase and one purse apiece. Foma grabbed two bags, leaving Viktor just one to carry.

"We have to get our owls sent off right away to let everyone know we arrived safely," Hermione said.

"I am guessing that one owl for each your father and Ginny's parents," Iulia said. "But who is the third owl for?"

"Harry," Hermione said.

It was a good thing that Viktor was at the end of the parade; no one could see his lip curl at the sound of Potter's name.

"I promised that I'd owl him as soon as I got to Bulgaria," Hermione went on. "He was even nice enough to lend me his snowy owl for the job. This is Hedwig. Blodwen, my parents' owl, is the tawny and the wee owl is Pigwidgeon."

"Pigwidgeon belongs to my brother Ron," Ginny added.

At least Potter wasn't here. There was no way The-Boy-Who-Lived could ruin this visit, Viktor told himself.

He lied. This visit did not go at all the way Viktor had planned. He hadn't expected a lot of privacy; however, he had expected to spend some time alone with Hermione (discreetly chaperoned, of course.)

However, it was difficult to get a chance to talk to her. The three English witches immediately hit it off with his talkative sisters, and his gregarious brother. They quickly made friends with his parents, as well… plus his grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins… plus his father's business associates… his mother's clients… his grandmother's knitting cronies… their neighbors… his teammates… his coaches… the team owner… the Minister of Sport… the Minister of Magic

Everybody, from their house elf's three-year old daughter to the Minister of Magic's autocratic grandmother, had only one thing in mind and on tongue – Harry Potter.

Viktor would have screamed, except he couldn't get a word in edgewise.


Of Rupert and Hermione:
Rupert Granger decided to paint the ceiling; it was boring. The bedroom was painted a pale green, which was very lovely in the daylight, but turned a boring pale grey at night. He wondered what sort of pattern. Something that would look nice when the lights were on, but would still have some sort of form at night.

He had known that he was going to miss his wife and daughter. He missed Hermione every school year. However, he hadn't expected that his separation from his wife would sit in his stomach like a lump of congealed grease and turn the whole world into a beige, dismal, and boring place.

Rupert shook his head. Emma and Hermione had only been gone for a few days. They wouldn't be back for a week. He was going to be in a lot of trouble if he didn't get any sleep before then. He could spend the day sleeping, he supposed. He had nothing else to do. He had arranged his schedule so he could take time off to go to Bulgaria. So, aside from the surgery, which had gone well, thank God, he had no appointments.

He was bored.

It was pathetic, really, that a full grown man couldn't entertain himself for a few days. His car was in the shop, but that didn't mean he had to stay at home until it was fixed. He could go to the cinema. He could go to the zoo. He could go to a museum or two or three. He could go to the library. (Hermione's reading habits hadn't come solely from her Mum.) He could even go on a longer jaunt for the weekend. Wait, he did not need to wait for the weekend. He could just pack up and go somewhere like… like where?

Blast it, all he wanted was his wife! There, he'd acknowledged it. He missed his wife and hated the fact that she wasn't in arm's reach. If that made him a big baby, then so be it.

He looked at the bedside clock: 1:23. "Oh, good show, Rupert! At least you're not looking at the clock every seventeen seconds. How about a nice cuppa?" He got up and automatically got dressed. Then he wandered downstairs wondering where he expected to go at… 1:38 AM.

His tea tasted like Ovaltine. Really, Rupert always knew that his culinary skills fell short of Cordon Bleu standards, but he'd always figured he could tell the difference between tea and Ovaltine. Maybe next time he'd use a tea bag.

Rupert sat at the kitchen table and wondered if he should risk trying to fix himself something. He wasn't really hungry. Besides, if tea could turn into Ovaltine, who knew what a piece of toast might transfigure into? His Ovaltine grew cold as he debated whether to try to find something on television or if he should just pick up a book. His ruminations were interrupted by the telephone.

Who'd be calling at… blink… 2:11 AM? The second ring brought Rupert out of his seat. There was one person who'd been invited, even encouraged, to call at any odd hour of the night.

"Hello? Yes, Operator, I'll accept the call. Hello, Harry?"

"Mr. Granger?" Harry replied. "You said it was all right to call, didn't you?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm glad to that you took me up on it," Rupert said. "I was just sitting at the kitchen table trying to think of something to do at two o'clock in the morning."

"Couldn't sleep?" Harry's voice was sympathetic.

"No," Rupert said ruefully. "I didn't invent insomnia; I'm just working on perfecting it. Having a stomach ache doesn't help."

"I've a stomach ache, too," Harry admitted. "I decided to call to tell you that I just got a postcard from Hermione and Ginny. They arrived safely and are having a good time."

"Yes, Blodwen gave me the happy news yesterday," Mr. Granger said.

"Good."

"I wouldn't mind getting an owl from you, come to think of it. How have you been?"

"Huh?" was Harry's witty rejoinder. "Er, I'm fine," he said after a few minutes. He wasn't at all convincing.

"Homework going well?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm mostly done. How did the surgery go? The one on the six-year old?"

"It went well," Rupert said. "I just…"

Harry made a small sound of distress, like he was trying to keep his food down. It was a sound Rupert knew well, as he'd had many patients throw up on him.

"Sorry, got to go," muttered Harry. He hung up before Rupert could answer.

Rupert frowned at the phone. He wasn't psychic, but Harry was clearly in distress. He remembered Hermione's worries about the boy's health. He wasn't sure what to do. Blodwen was already on her way back to Bulgaria. There wasn't anybody he could call about this. He didn't have any way of contacting Dumbledore, short of activating his Watch Out.

He slowly hung up the phone and shook his head. There wasn't anything he could do to help the boy. It would be better if he stayed out of this. An image of his daughter's tear-streaked face came to mind. No, he couldn't stay out of it, but what could he do? He didn't even have his car at hand so he could go charging to the rescue.

He had no clue how the Wizarding world dealt with child abuse. He knew all sorts of things the Muggle legal system could do, but the Muggle system would be too slow to help Harry. What he needed was advice! "Send me a sign, damn it!" and slammed his fist down… on Hermione's folder of maps and timetables and detailed instructions on how to get to 4 Privet Drive without magic or a driver's license.


Of Dumbledore and Weasleys:
Ron woke up with a gasp; he slithered desperately out of bed and grabbed his wand off the bedside table. He tried to still his breathing so he could locate the sound that had awoken him.

Nothing. Nothing outside the everyday noises of the never silent burrow, that is. There wasn't even any sound from the abashed ghoul in the attic. (The ghoul had been silent ever since Molly had royally told it off for allowing Ginny to be attacked.) He looked over at his bedside clock, which read, "Zzzz." "Very helpful," growled Ron.

Ron padded downstairs, a feeling of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. He stopped in Ginny's room and checked the window. Then past the twins' room, which wasn't emitting any strange noises and no more stench than usual. He prowled restless around the ground floor, looking for a source of his unease. He even crouched down to examine the fireplace with great care, in case an ashwinder had crept out. Nothing.

The fifteen-year old pushed his hair out of his eyes and rocked back on his heel. He must have had a bad dream, he decided. That was what woke him up.

The panicky feeling didn't subside.

Ron took deep, steadying breaths and tried to remember what Trelawney (of all people!) had said about clearing his mind. His breathing evened out and an observer might have suspected that Ron had fallen asleep. He let his thoughts drift. He'd dreamed something, but what? No clear picture emerged, just a general panicky feeling and an ache in his gut that had nothing to do with the excellent bangers and mash that his mother had fed him last night.

He was worried about Hermione, of course, way out in Bulgaria with nobody to look after her but her mother, Ginny, Charlie, Viktor Krum and, from what Ginny had owled, 98% of the Bulgarian Wizarding community.

Ron shook his head, no, this wasn't about Hermione. This was about somebody in a more precarious position, this was about… HARRY!

No clear image came to his mind, but now Ron was certain that something bad had happened/was happening to Harry and he HAD to do something. He looked up at the jar of Floo powder over the mantel, and then shook his head. He had to get his parents first.

Rude awakenings are nothing unusual when you have seven children, two of them Fred and George. This morning's sleep interruption was different. Neither Weasley parent could remember seeing one of their children so… desperate.

"Mum, Dad, I have to talk to Dumbledore, it's urgent!"

"Ron, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "It's so early!" She looked out the window at the still dark sky.

"This can't wait!" Ron felt like he was going to explode or burst into tears or something. "I've had a vision or something. Something's happened to Harry! Something bad!"

His parents, finally awake, blinked at him. Ron could tell the minute they went from thinking this was just another childish nightmare to realizing this was something else, something worse.

They scuffled into their dressing gowns and slippers and headed for the kitchen. His father took a pinch of Floo powder and tossed it into the fire.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore," he said clearly. Then he stuck his head into the flames. "Albus? Are you there?" After a few minutes, he added. "Sorry to wake you… Ron needs to speak to you." Arthur pulled his head out of the fire. "Go ahead, Ron, be quick though, the Floo is running low."

Ron stuck his head into the fireplace and found himself facing Professor Dumbledore. There were no lights on in the room, but Dumbledore's dressing gown sported a herd of fire-breathing dragons which provided enough light to see by.

"What's wrong, Ronald?" Dumbledore asked. It was the first time that he could remember Dumbledore addressing him by his given name and Ron was taken aback for a few seconds. Then he blurted out. "I've had a vision, something bad has happened to Harry."

Dumbledore's expression was grave. "Can you give me any details?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't remember any of it," he said in frustration. "But, but, you have to do something!"

Dumbledore held out a hand. "Calm yourself. Can it have be that you just had a nightmare?"

Ron shook his head. "I can remember nightmares," he said. "Usually things like Harry getting eaten by dragons or Hermione getting kidnapped by trolls…" he shook his head again. He didn't want to remember the nightmares. "This is… different."

To his relief, Dumbledore neither looked angry or skeptical. "I will send Hagrid to investigate straight away," he said in assuring tones. "Meanwhile, perhaps you'd better make sure your room is ready for company. I think it's time Harry left Privet Drive."

"Yes, sir, thank you," Ron blurted. He pulled his head out of the fireplace a few moments before the flames died down. He reported what Dumbledore had said.

"Good," Molly said. She looked out the window at the graying sky. "It looks like it's going to be a long day. We need to get started."


Of Wizards and Muggles:
When you ask for a sign from God it behooves you to act promptly when you get it. The sun was just showing when Rupert arrived at 4 Privet Drive. He'd spent the entire trip figuring out how to convince the Dursleys to let him in and he thought he had a plan. It was too early to call on someone, but that actually assisted his plan. He knew, from what Hermione had told him, that the Dursleys were ashamed of Harry's powers. He thought he knew how to use that to his advantage.

Rupert had lost track of how many times he'd rung the bell when the door was finally answered. A beefy, neck-less wonder with a fungal growth that vaguely resembled a moustache yanked the door open and glared. "Do you know what time it is?" Vernon's unpleasant growl demanded.

"It's time for me to check on Harry Potter," Rupert said in no-nonsense tones. "And, unless you want the entire neighborhood coming over to find out what's going on, I suggest you stop shouting and let me in."

He advanced, although there was no way for him to physically move the lump of neo-humanity in front of him.

Dursley gave way with a huffing noise.

"Vernon, who is it?" a shrill voice asked.

"Dad?" grumped a groggy male voice.

Ah, the semi-tame shrew and her porcine offspring, Rupert thought. "I was sent to check on Potter," he told the reedy, horse-faced woman.

"What! At this hour?" shrilled Petunia. "Don't you people have any sense of decency?"

"Would you rather I come at a time when your neighbors can see me?" Rupert asked icily.

That shut Petunia up. It sent the massively overweight teen scurrying back to his room.

"Where's Potter?"

Petunia turned on her heel and lead the way. The attic wouldn't be too bad as a room, Rupert decided. Properly refitted and air conditioned, it would actually make decent living quarters for a growing boy. However, the Dursleys had put no effort and less money into the project. It was uncomfortably hot in the attic, even at this hour. There were stacks of boxes and trunks taking up the majority of the space. Near one wall there was a camp bed, a desk and two trunks.

"Harry?" Rupert called as he moved towards the camp bed. The bed was empty, but when Rupert got close enough, he could see that there was a pile of blankets on the far side, out of sight of the entrance. "Harry?"

"Idiot boy, can't he even sleep in a bed properly?" snarled Petunia's voice from behind him.

Rupert gave her a frosty glare and Petunia left.

"Wha…? Who are you?"

Rupert turned back to the camp bed to find a pair of green eyes peering from a tangle of black hair. The good thing about that hair, he thought, is that it made it possible to recognize Harry under almost any circumstances.

"Rupert Granger, at your service," Rupert came over and sat on the near side of the camp bed. "We've met briefly in Diagon Alley." He brushed aside the sodden fringe and felt the boy's forehead. Harry was hot and sweaty, except for the three slashes that made up the infamous scar. The scar felt cool and greasy, rather like waxed dental floss.

"Hey!" Harry said crossly, pulling away. "What are you… Mr. Granger?"

Rupert grinned. "We didn't get to finish our conversation," he said lightly. "I decided to come in person to check on you."

"Oh." Harry blinked at him as if trying to process this information.

"You sounded like you might be ill. In fact, you're running a fever," Rupert said.

Harry fumbled for his glasses that were sitting on a trunk that was next to the camp bed. "I thought you were a dentist," he mumbled. "How could you tell that I was sick?"

"I am a dentist," Rupert said. "I'm also a father, and I can tell these things. You said you had a stomach ache. You also sounded like you might need to throw up. Did you?"

Harry squinted at him. "Is this the kind of things fathers have to put up with?"

"All the time," Rupert said. "Now, answer the question. And why don't you hop on the bed so I can get a look at you?"

"The stupid thing will probably collapse," Harry explained. "That's why I've been sleeping on the floor."

Rupert stared for a few minutes. Then he entertained a brief fantasy about the Dursleys that involved dental drills, forceps and no anesthetic.

"Harry? Did you throw up? Have you had any other kind of trouble, like diarrhea? I hate to pry, but this could be important. At the very least, if you're sick, we might be able to get you out of here."

"Oh, erm, well, yes, I threw up last night, but only because dinner was so foul."

"Any sign of blood?"

Harry shook his head. "Well, it was tomato soup, so I might not have noticed," he said with a frown. "No, tomato soup isn't the same colour as blood."

"This talk about stomach aches has me worried. You've been under so much stress lately that I think you could be developing an ulcer. It's past time we got you to a doctor. Any idea how to go about that?"

"Er, we could send Hedwig to Dumbledore," Harry said, looking past Rupert to the desk.

Rupert looked over his shoulder and jumped to his feet when he found himself looking into the eyes of a large owl with a very sharp looking beak. He could have sworn the owl snickered at him.

"I'll write a note, then," Rupert said. He pulled out his pocket notebook and a pen and quickly scribbled a brief report to the Headmaster. He looked at Hedwig uncertainly.

"There's string on the desk," Harry said. He was now sitting on the trunk and Rupert could see he was wearing an oversized t-shirt as a night shirt.

Rupert cut off a length of string and hesitated.

Hedwig stuck her leg out and looked at him with an expression of kindly condensation.

"Thank you," Rupert said. He carefully tied the note to Hedwig's leg. "That's not too tight is it?" he asked.

Hedwig examined the note for a few minutes, gave her leg an experimental shake. Apparently deciding that Rupert had done a sufficient job, she launched herself and darted out a window that Rupert would have thought was too small for a bird of her wingspan.

"She's great," Harry said. "She'll get to Dumbledore pretty soon."

"Good, then you should get dressed and have something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," Harry said.

"You should eat," Rupert said.

"If I'm going to have my stomach examined for ulcers, should I leave it empty? I mean, isn't it bad form to spew on your doctor?"

Rupert made a wry face. "You may have a point. Anyway, get dressed and you might want to pack, too. I expect you're going to be leaving the Dursleys for the summer."

"Great!"

"Do you have something decent to wear?"

"Yeah, got some new stuff from one of my parents' former teacher," Harry said.

"Good."

Rupert left the room to give Harry enough privacy to change.

Petunia Dursley was dressed and watching him like a hawk, but the male Dursleys remained out of sight. Just as well, in Rupert's opinion.

"You're that girl's father, aren't you?" Petunia demanded. "The bushy haired one that kissed Potter at the train station."

"Yes, so?" Rupert demanded.

"You should keep your daughter in line, acting like that where decent folk can see her!"

"Well, that's not a problem you'll have to worry about, is it?"

He paced around the living room while he waited for Harry and wondered how long it would take to get an answer from Dumbledore.

The doorbell rang.

"Not another one!" snapped Petunia.

Rupert hoped so. Ignoring his manners, he opened the front door himself, and had an epiphany as to why opossums played dead.

That was really the only sensible reaction when faced with the biggest, shaggiest biped he had ever laid eyes outside of a zoo. His first instinct was to slam the door, but his muscles refused to respond.

"Yeh're not Dursley," the giant biped growled.

Rupert's voice refused to respond, fortunately, the giant biped didn't wait for an answer.

"Who are yeh?"

Rupert swallowed hard and managed to speak. "I'm Rupert Granger. And you are?"

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, at yer service. Yeh must be Hermione's dad. Great lass, Hermione. She'll be a great witch, too. Yeh must be awfu' proud o' her." Underneath the wild tangle of hair, beetle black eyes regarded Rupert with friendliness.

Fear evaporated. So this is the Hagrid that Hermione was always enthusing over. Obviously, he was a man of great intelligence and discernment. "Yes, I am her father and yes, I am proud of her. I'm also pleased to meet you." He held out his hand and the giant engulfed it, but didn't do any damage.

"Hagrid!" Harry came down the stairs, dragging a leather trunk behind him. He was dressed in blue jeans, a maroon shirt and a denim jacket. "How'd you get here so fast?"

Any linger traces of fear Rupert felt for Hagrid vanished at the sight of the smile on Harry's face. No child could look that happy to see a cruel person.

"Dumbledore sent me earlier, he had a tip that yeh was in trouble," Hagrid explained. "Hedwig met me while on was on me way. I sent her on to Dumbledore ter tell him that things were worse'n we thought."

"I'm not that sick," Harry said.

"Good, yeh got all yer things?"

"This is a trunk my Mum owned," Harry said, pointing at the leather trunk on the floor. "My school stuff is still in the attic." Harry started up the stairs.

"I'll carry it fer yeh," Hagrid grunted. The giant stomped up the stairs, making the whole house shake.

"MUM!"

"Just stay in your room, Dudley, nobody wants to hurt you," Harry yelled.

"It's that freak that gave me a pig's tail, isn't it?" Dudley called back.

"I wouldn't insult him, if I were you!" Harry said. "I'm leaving now!"

"It's about time," Petunia called back.

"See you next summer!" Harry said cheerfully. June was a long way away. Anything could happen between now and then.

They carried the trunks outside. Rather, Hagrid tucked both trunks under his arms and carried them out. There was a yellow van with a white bumblebee painted on the side parked in the Dursleys' driveway.

"White Bumblebee Exterminators?" Harry asked. "What do you exterminate? Rats?"

Hagrid engulfed Harry's head in one hand. "Nosy ickle wizardlings w' sloppy black hair," he responded.

Some people would have made that sound like a threat, or maybe a joke. Somehow, Hagrid, made it sound like an endearment.

Harry grinned and pulled away.

"So, yeh got everythin'?" Hagrid asked. "School stuff, clothes, owl, owl cage?"

Harry slapped his forehead. "I forgot Hedwig's cage," he said. "It's still in Dudley's extra room."

Harry led the way back to his former sleeping quarters. "I don't see it," he said, perplexed.

"Is it up in the attic?" Rupert asked.

"I din't see it there," Hagrid said.

Then Harry remembered and he was forced to confess that he'd sent it to Ginny. "I've been meaning to get her a new cage, anyway," he added. "Sorry."

"You're going to get Ginny a new cage?" Rupert asked.

Harry rolled his eyes, but refrained from saying anything nasty to the man who had come to rescue him.

"Tha's no problem," Hagrid said cheerfully. "Now, are yeh fergettin' anythin' fer real?"

"I don't think so," Harry looked around the room to see if he had forgotten anything. He lifted the bedclothes to check if there was anything under the bed. There was nothing under the loose floorboards. However, there was something gold and glittering near the wall and he picked it up curiously. It was a golden sphere about the size of a walnut.

"What's that?" Rupert asked.

"Dunno," Harry said. "Looks like a Snitch… only without wings. Hagrid, do you know what this is?"

"Put that down!" roared Hagrid. "Get awa' from it!"

Startled, Harry dropped the sphere and jumped away. Too late, though. The last thing Rupert remembered was a blast of light and cold…


Of Snakes and Badgers:
Three teen-aged hospital volunteers sat outside the main door sipping pumpkin fizz as they took a ten minute breather from their chores.

"Are you all right?" a blonde girl with a freckled face asked the blond, round faced boy.

"Oh, wonderful, thank you," sighed the boy.

"Sarcasm? From a Gryffindor? Neville, I didn't know you had it in you," the blonde girl said.

"Concern? From a Slytherin? Pansy, I'd have never suspected," Neville returned with no real heat.

"He's got you on that one," Millicent Bulstrode said. "We're the horrible snake-girls is what we are." The tall, square-jawed girl smoothed down her white robes and flicked a bit of dust off the badge that was sewn onto the front.

The Mediwizard's Apprentice Badge had a badger holding a caduceus on it, which is why the hospital volunteers were called Honey Badgers. Pansy never did understand why they weren't called Honey Snakes. Snakes had a longer association with the healing arts than badgers did. Besides, she liked snakes. They were always nice to her.

"And I am an arrogant lion-boy," Neville put in.

Pansy had become familiar with Neville since she had joined the Mediwizard's Apprentices. Neville was there to visit his parents so often that it was impossible not to see him a lot. Much to her surprise, she'd found that Neville wasn't nearly as stupid as he seemed in Potions class. In fact, he was so good at Herbology, that the midwife in charge of the Still Room commandeered him to be her 'volunteer' assistant. Neville didn't seem to mind.

"It helps me to forget my troubles," he'd once commented.

"You need help in forgetting?" Millicent had asked, incredulously.

"Forget what?" Neville had teased.

"Forget it," Millicent shot back.

Millicent was a different person away from Hogwarts, too. Pansy noted. At school she was sullen and silent to the point where most of their classmates, even their roommates, thought that she was stupid. Out of the Slytherin dungeons, she was a normal teen-aged girl. (Albeit a very big girl with a propensity for punching people in the nose.)

Pansy also knew about Neville's parents. Her father, who was chief chirugeon at St. Mungo's, had been railing about their condition for as long as she could remember. They had been by Death Eaters and driven insane. She wondered what it would be like to have parents… or two have parents who didn't recognize you.

"How are your parents, today?" Pansy asked, a little hesitantly.

"Well, they didn't know who I was, but at least they thought I was there to take care of the fish instead of being there to rob the place."

"They have fish?" Millicent asked.

"No."

"Oh."

Just then a very strange looking vehicle pulled up.

"Is that a Muggle ambulance?" Neville asked.

Pansy shook her head. "Muggle ambulances have red crosses on them, not white bumblebees. Millie, get the emergency crew out here."

Just then the driver of the van came around the front.

"Hagrid!" Neville called.

There was no mistaking the giant groundskeeper. Pansy scowled. She still hadn't forgiven Hagrid for the monster-hippogriff incident. Finding out that he was half-monster himself hadn't endeared the shaggy oaf to Pansy at all.

"Get some stretchers out here," bellowed the half-giant.

"Get them yourself," Pansy muttered, but Millie had already fetched an emergency crew.

Two patients were bundled onto the stretchers and taken inside.

Pansy could see Millie's jaw drop as the parade passed by.

"Somebody you know?" Pansy asked.

Millie had to work her jaw a few times in order to get any sound out. "That was… one of them was…"

"WHO?" demanded Pansy and Neville.

"Harry Potter."

"Harry?" Neville's head whipped around to look after the disappeared stretchers. He hauled out his watch. "Good, I've got a few minutes, then." He hurried towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Pansy asked.

"To call the Weasleys," Neville answered.


Of Potters:
It seemed like he had been burning for days.

He didn't know where he was or even who he was. All he knew was that he was hot.

There were voices, but he couldn't make sense of what they were saying. He opened his eyes but all he could see were a bunch of people in white. Angels? Wait, if those were angels, why was it so hot here?

"Sent for Mrs. Granger, of course. She and the girls…"

"….sheer luck that nobody was killed…"

"Luck, nothing, Harry's just too damn…"

Ron? He squinted and could make out Weasley red hair.

"Ron! Language! You're in a hospital!"

Oh, that would explain the white robes.

"… thought Hagrid was going to burst an artery…"

"I'm not too happy myself. There's already been one murder done in this wing."

"Out! He needs rest!" a crisp, autocratic voice spoke.

Madam Pomfrey?

"Really, Madame Handwerker," Mrs. Weasley was talking again. She seemed very upset about something. "Surely there must be a better place to put him than a haunted wing! It's freezing in here!"

Maybe the cold was to keep him from bursting into flames.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," the autocratic voice spoke. "This wing is the best choice. It's empty and more defensible. Surely you can…"

He couldn't keep his eyes open. The voices faded to a buzz.

Then it was cold; the bone-chilling cold that went beyond mere physical.

Another voice – "Can it be? It is! He's finally here, poor boy."

He'd been recognized. Of course he'd been recognized. He was famous. Everybody knew who he was, except himself. He managed to get his eyes open again. There was a man dressed in white robes. Harry squinted, but it was hard to make out any details. There was no light except for the faint glow coming from the figure.

Glow? From the figure?

"Harry?"

Oh, right, that was who he was. Famous Harry Potter. He wondered if he could manage to forget again.

"Yeah," he managed.

"Sorry to bother you, but I have been waiting to meet you for such a long time."

"Who?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," the ghost said. He made a short bow to Harry. "I'm forgetting my manners. My name is Tiberius Potter. Your father was my son."


CHAPTER UPDATE!

I forgot that I had Harry send Hedwig's cage to Ginny, and had it here. This has been corrected. My appreciation goes to the readers who picked up on this… Bob, amulder, and DeeKay

Author's Notes:


I made several corrections to Chapter 15 and a few to Chapter 2 and reposted them. You can check my author's notes in those chapters for more details on the changes.

It looks like we're coming to the end of this story. Don't worry, you're not getting shorted, it's just with the triple length chapter fifteen and this one (which actually contains half of chapter seventeen) I'm reaching the end in few chapters than I figured. However, 'A Sirius Situation' will follow post-haste. You'll like that one. It's got Quidditch! And there will be some, shall we say, 'face-to-face interaction.' grin

Foma is the Bulgarian form of 'Thomas'. Katerina, Marketa, and Iulia are Bulgarian for Katherine, Margaret and Julia. Another variation of those three names could be Karen, Gretchen and Jill – that's me and my sisters!

Handwerker: The minute I heard this name, I knew I had to give it to a Hufflepuff. And the director of the hospital needed a surname, so it all worked out nicely. ** Handwerker is German for 'day laborer.' Nathan Handwerker founded Nathan's Famous Hot Dogs on Coney Island.


DaBear: Thanks for the review! Sorry to keep you waiting, I'm working as fast as I can! ** Yeah, cats are sneaky. One of the many reasons I chose a cat for Harry. ** Voldemort needs a good laxative… LOL!

Chocolate Muse: Thanks for coming back and reviewing! This story is almost through. The next should be fun, though.

Lilia: Thanks for the review! I'm doing my best to update faster at GryffindorTower and at SugarQuill. I still have more stories at fanfiction.net, though. ** Harry hasn't finished with the contents of Lily's trunk. His mother has something special in there for him.

Amulder: Thanks for the kind words! I like Ginny. She's the character most like me (as far as I can see.) ** Well, Harry is farther along in his studies than the Marauders were, but, yes, his ability to change did come on with suspicious suddenness. ** I hope that Ginny gets let in on the secrets. If nothing else, she's demonstrated that she can keep them. ** Glad you liked my use of the fairy tales and my version of the ghoul!

Taself: Thank you for coming back and reviewing! I had fun with this chapter, could you tell?

domino84: Thank you for the review and for the kind remarks about my details. I try to amuse myself and I hope it works for other people. I also like to write stories that people want to read more than once. ** Thanks for the compliments on my take on fairy tales! ** No, I haven't read Artemis Fowl, but I suspect that I should. I have read some of Tanithe Lee's and Robin McKinley's redone fairy tales. ** I plan to have Ginny find out about Sirius, but not necessarily from the source she should learn that secret from.

Bob: Thanks for the review! And you're welcome for the trunk! There's more to come, I promise! ** Can you read my mind? ** McGonagall is not stupid. ** Pixie's taste runs to ginger cats, not ruddy cats. ** I think Harry will always be shorter than average. ** The Bookwyrm is in this universe. ** Three.

MoNmOn: Thanks for the kind words! (Yes, it's a Seer-ee-us sitch-ee-aye-shun!)

A. Lee: Thank you, you're so kind to say so! ** Some people will go to any length to avoid asking for a date. ** We may never know the truth about which brother is Ginny's favourite! ** Yes, it was very nice of Harry to give Ginny that cloak.

SailorChibi: Thanks for the review! ** Yes, Harry is beginning to feel something for Ginny. ** Well, I said "I'll get to Harry's Animagus form before I get to the others. (They won't get forms until A Sirius Situation.)" I didn't specify who 'they' were. I'm sorry to say that my response was still wrong, though. Ron gets his Animagus form in the next chapter.

Lan: Thank you for the kind words! Sorry, this story is almost finished, but there will be others. There's going to be a long, dry spell between Book 5 and Book 6!

Ozma: Thanks for the long review! You know I love it when I see what someone's favorite parts are! ** If Dumbledore thinks he's heard the last of that embarrassing nickname, he's forgotten who he's dealing with! ** I had fun with the Weasleys. I figured that Rupert was getting so much air time that Arthur should have some fun, too. ** Thanks for the kind words on the Sirius/Harry/Arabella sequence. That part got rewritten about a dozen times to get it right! ** Yes, the robe is literally going to seed. The dust bunnies have to eat something! ** Harry's cute in any form. ** When I thought of Harry wanting to call Sirius 'Dad' I decided that there had to be a witness to this scene. ** Yes, Harry's got to find out what an amazing girl Ginny is before he can fall for her. ** I changed the scene to include Percy in the list of adult wizards. ** Yes, I mean Prof. Sinistra. I think she was a few years older than Lily, and probably in Ravenclaw. But they were united in a common cause – to wreak revenge on Sirius Black! ** Glad that Harry's reaction to his baby picture rang true. (It's sort of my reaction when I look at any picture of myself.) ** Thanks for the compliment on my author's notes! I work hard on these!

The Queen of Fire and Ice: Thanks for the review! Sorry the chapter took so long! ** Ron has his suspicions.

Lourdes: Thank you!

Iniysa: Thank you!

Amulder: Thanks for the tip about the 'subtle Americanism'. I didn't know Brits usually used front loading washing machines. I've changed that bit in the story.

Female Fred: Thank you!

Little House Girl: Thanks for the review! I think this is going to be about 18 chapters.

Alla: Thanks for the review and sorry to keep you waiting! ** It makes me so happy that people want more of my fiction! ** Thanks for saying what your favorite parts were. ** I think the idea of being in prison is a naturally horrifying to humans (which is why it's used as a punishment). Even something as minor as being sent to the corner or getting stuck in the elevator can be nasty. ** I can't imagine that Ron is stupid. He's not too in touch with his feelings, but he's only fifteen for crying out loud. It takes some time to come to terms with that sort of thing. ** Thanks! I want Harry and Ginny to be friends before they start snogging.


Andrea13: Thanks for reviewing! ** "Attic of Fairy Tales" I like it! ** Glad you like the opening of the trunk. There are still more surprises in that thing! ** Yes, handing out the Christmas cards is going to be a major plot point in the next story. ** Thanks for mentioning your favorite lines! (I got the part about Dumbledore being a red-head from Chamber of Secrets, by the by. He had auburn hair in Riddle's memory.)

Crazyfriendsfan: Thanks for the kind words! I'm writing as fast as I can! I want everything done by June!

Punkin: Thanks for the review! Your description of how you and your friend reacted is so flattering, I was grinning all day! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! Tell your friend that I said 'hi!' ** Ah, yes, the life of a college student, I remember it well. ** I think Harry deserves to have a Dad, not just a father figure. ** Nicely was created by Sirius and Remus and based on one created by Sirius, James, Remus and Peter. Of course she has a sense of humor. ** Yes, Harry is beginning to get interested. The next step will take Ginny's presence. ** I love cats, too, and I wanted something that would be inconspicuous at Hogwarts. ** Thanks for the compliments on the attic! ** You're not boring me! ** I figure Punkin would be a great nickname for somebody with Weasley red hair. Besides, I think it's a wonderful name! ** Now, get some sleep! A growing girl needs more than two hours!

Von: Thanks for the review! You're right about the scene where Harry changes back. I've re-written it and I'll repost it when I post this. As far as I know, the Dursleys never beat on Harry. ** Yes, it's not good for Harry to be so cut off. Don't worry, he doesn't stay that way for long! ** No, the white streaks don't cause the black outs. The full explanation will be next chapter. ** Yep, I have a lot of ideas for the summer between fifth and sixth years. (I hope they don't contradict canon too much!) ** I haven't seen any stories where Harry becomes an Animagus. *sniff* I think Rowling's going to make him one, but I don't think she's going to make him a cat. ** Love the idea of Harry's subconscious chanting 'cats cats cats cats'. J ** Why a cat? Well, Harry's going to need those nine lives if he's going to survive Voldemort! Besides, it would be rather hard for something spectacular like a gryphon or a lion to sneak around Hogwarts after curfew. ** I hadn't thought about it, but yes, now Harry's a red-head! ** Abyssinians aren't the cuddly type. ** Well, addressing a letter to Sirius might be too obvious and 'Snuffles' and 'Padfoot' are so obviously code names that somebody might get suspicious. (Besides, Wormtail knows the Padfoot name.) ** True, being at the Weasleys could be stressful. However, Harry could relieve one source of stress and everybody would be on their best behavior with him around. ** Actually, they're both black cloaks, one with green lining and one with red lining. Harry doesn't need to keep both of them and Ginny just said she needed a cloak. And yes, the other cloak will be a giveaway about where the gift cloak came from. ** You're welcome for the long chapter!

Katrina: Thanks for the review! ** Verge? Hmm… sounds good!

VenusDeOmnipotent: Thanks for the review! ** I've started Harry on the road to H/G! He thought of giving the cloak to Ginny. He didn't think about giving it to Hermione! ** No, I didn't wave my chopsticks at the magician. I never even unwrapped them. There would have been no point, I still can't use the things!

Chary: Thanks for reviewing! Now, if I could only convince you to finish your next chapter… ** No, Harry didn't learn to be an Animagus overnight. Re-read Sirius' conversation with Nicely for a hint as to what's going on. ** No root beer? Oh, dear. I'll have to come up with a different version for the Gryffindor Tower/ Sugarquill version. Maybe an old fashioned black and white (vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup and soda water.) I bet pumpkin fizz would go nicely with vanilla ice cream. ** I knew that once I'd mentioned that Dumbledore had an embarrassing nickname, I'd have to reveal it. I expect it's written down somewhere. That's the price of being as famous as Dumbledore. (Yes, Hermione has to find out. She needs a way to ensure Dumbledore never tells Ron and Harry about the 'Moppet' nickname.) ** Thanks for the compliments on the attic! I thought up most of those while I was waiting for my fish and chips (Honest!) ** I hope Rowling does something with Harry and Sirius. I love those two together. ** I confess, that's actually my own reaction when I look at my baby pictures. ** There are still some surprises in the trunk. (You already guessed what one of them was!) ** You're right, I rewrote that scene so that the Dursleys are preparing for an after dinner party and Dudley hasn't left for his friend's house yet. In the rewrite, Petunia wanted Harry to eat before the guests arrived. Thanks for pointing that out!

Eris, Queen of the Shadows: Thank you for the review! I appreciate everybody who takes the time to say nice things to me. ** No, the cloak doesn't kill people. In Little Red's case, it's what she used to humanely capture the werewolf that had broken into her grandmother's cottage. When the moon set, he turned back into the nice huntsman that he usually was. ** Yup, that broom is getting closer to Harry every day.

Michaela: Thanks for the review! ** Thanks for the comment about not calling somebody 'ma'm'. I'll have to rewrite chapter two to remove that.

whoever I am at the moment: Thanks for the review, whoever you are! ** Thanks for the kind words on Harry's Animagus form! There are worse things to be named after than an Abyssinian!

Alina: Thank you for all the kind comments! Sorry to keep you waiting! Glad it was worth the wait! ** Actually the story is going to end shortly after Harry's birthday. ** Thanks, glad you like the nicknames! ** Yes, Sirius thought that Harry had been turned into something small and edible. ** Harry being a cat is going to save his life. ** Glad you liked the long-delayed trunk scene! Somebody is going to have to show him how to deflate the pillows. *cough**Ginny*cough*.

Lizzypadfoot: Thanks for the review! I'm the same generation as James, Lily, Sirius and Remus. ** Thanks for correcting me on Scabbers/Wormtail's color. I've changed that in chapter fifteen.

Pseudonym Sylphmuse: Thanks for the review! ** Glad you liked the Red Riding Hood joke! ** Yes, the Wizarding World has things that make me sigh, too! *cough**Sirius**cough*.

Allison: Thanks for the compliment!

Miriam: Thank you for reviewing! No one is obliged to, but it makes me very happy when people do!

rosemary thyme: Thanks for the review! How sweet of you to say that this is one of your favorite fics! ** You may certainly have some more!

Squintz: Thank you for the review! I pleased and honored to be the first person on your favorites list! ** Thanks for telling me what you like about my story! ** I'm not really triskaidekaphobic, I just like the word.

Eliel Radragon: Thank you for the compliments! ** I was five when I cut my head on the rock in Yosemite National Park. I was seven when I cut my head on the table. Cool, you have a lightning bolt scar! ** I am updating at Gryffindor Tower! I've been a little slow at that, but I'm working on speeding up a bit. Thanks for taking the time to look me up here!