"Come on, Harry, what do you want to do?" She pressed the subject, desperately wanting him to enjoy his stay.
"I really don't know. I've never really lived to enjoy things in a muggle environment." He didn't know what to enjoy, or what there even was to enjoy. This was sad. He had all options available for once and absolutely no idea where to begin. Fun, in the muggle world was nonexistent, hence with the forced introduction of it into the untamed habitat, he felt a bit peculiar.
"We have all day to do whatever we like. Surely you must…"
"Oh no you don't. Rules are rules. You owe homework time until lunch at 12:30 sharp." 'Ouch' Harry thought 'Not a woman to cross.'
"But mum, Harry is here, and he just arrived. Can you make an exception just this once? Please?" she whined vainly.
"No. You need to discipline yourself. You'll thank me someday." Harry couldn't refuse this opportunity. It was the Golden Snitch hanging two inches above his palm. To reject would be blasphemous.
"What's this I hear? Three days into summer vacation and Hermione still has unfinished homework? The shame!!! And even worse. It's horrific! She doesn't WANT to do her homework. It's a scandal! What will Ron think of you!?!? Nevermind Ron. What about all of Hogwarts!?!? McGonagall will be so displeased." Harry began to chuckle. He noticed Ivy's very stern look (that's where Hermione gets it from) soften and gaze interestedly up and down Harry's body. He swore she licked her lips. 'Probably just parched right. It is a bit dry. And that look means nothing. She was just making sure I have no deformities, especially on my ass.' He was too busy laughing to care. Hermione gave her best You're-Not-Helping-Things look, but blushed in failure instead.
"Besides dear, Your father and I would like to speak to Harry for a while. Get to know the stranger in our house" She smiled, no smirked at him. 'No, no, no, No, No, NO. NO! NO!!! She did not wink at me. I'm just being paranoid. And her smile is that way because, because she um, finds my Dudley cast offs adorably…something. Quite right. I am adorable, and she wishes she was my mother. Oh it all fits so perfectly. She feels sorry that I never had motherly affection and wants to give me some.' He fell out of his trance to watch Ivy walk away and Hermione turn to him, very exasperated and partially out of breath.
"So what exactly is happening?" He asked cautiously. He knew when Hermione tried so hard to get something and failed, should would not be in the mood.
"I have to do homework. I hate it when she does that. Everything in this house is planned, from the daily activities to the times of meals. The probably even plan their bathroom visits. I get no freedom, no breathing space. I need to stretch my wings a bit you know…Like I should talk, you have the Dursleys." She buckled her knees and fell heavily onto the stairs. He took a seat next to her, and seeing her distress, place his arm carefully around her. It's not like he enjoyed this position. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea. He was just comforting.
"They're a lot better since Dumbledore told them I could do magic at home. Don't worry, I'll escape to see you as soon as possible. I have something for you." He grinned mischievously.
"What?"
"I don't know exactly, but I think you'll like it."
"What is it?" He dropped a rolled piece of parchment into her lap. She opened it and began to read. "This is really very good, where did you get it?"
"I'm insulted" he said in mock disgust "I wrote that myself!"
"Really, Harry. Where. You don't have access to these books. It is your handwriting though. Fine, who's did you copy?"
"I copied no one's. Why do you have such low views of me. I wrote the goddamn essay myself!"
"See, I knew the truth would come out in the end." His jaw hung open, and he was about to start smearing some language when her hand gently closed his mouth for him. His senses immediately froze. He attributed it to shock, but put on an angry face anyway. "Now, where did you get the books from?" A smile was still playing at the corners of her moist, pink, tender lips. Forget he thought that.
"I wanted to wait to tell you later, but Dumbledore got me a job this summer. I work at, you'd love this, Flourish and Blotts. There isn't much to do so I get to do my homework in peace. There are so few people, it's a wonder the store stays open."
"That's great! But I always remember it being a bit full of people."
"That's because you've always been there during the back to school rush, silly."
"I suppose……You had better go to the interrogation, before my parents get upset. I have to do my homework, and read this essay you have the nerve to call your own." He smiled warmly at her. Even when upset she was able to smile. It moved him deeply. He gave her a friendly kiss on her temple, and stood solidly.
"Good luck, I'll see you later, then we can do all that stuff you call fun." He noticed she was a touch pink in the cheeks, but it didn't matter, he was off the face the parents. He was lucky, oh so lucky. He'd rather do homework over this any day.
He calmly entered the large living room, containing a very long, perhaps thirty foot long, sleek, black leather sofa along the far wall, stretching the entire way. Ivy and Rick were chatting idly away so he took a moment to more loosely examine the room. It was large, vaguely reminiscent of the Gryffindor Common Room. It had countless seats, chairs, sofas, even a particularly nice looking stool. The entire ceiling was covered with glass, giving it a greenhouse feel. Plants grew everywhere, some distinctly tropical, with large beautiful blooms and large green leaves. On the walls were paintings and art of all types and tastes, some colorful, some bland, abstract and realistic. It truly was an experience to be in this room. Ivy noticed him and waved him over. He groaned but allowed his body to go over to them. Ivy was reclining, leisurely on the long black sofa, and Rick in a purple armchair across from her. This made him slightly glad, as he would only have to face once and sit next to the other. He sat beside Ivy, leaving a healthy two feet between their bodies.
"Harry, dear, tell us all about the magical world. We'd love to hear of it from another perspective. Tell us everything, as it is so very fascinating." He groaned inwardly. So they wanted to know everything. Probably his life story. He hated explaining his life story, it always brought about pity, and pity was one of the few things he detested. To be pitied was for him to be weak. You have to work with what you have, not let others weep over what you don't have.
"Well, I guess I can tell you what I know about my past…" and so it began. He told of his first encounter with Voldemort, what little he knew of his parents, growing up with the Dursleys, though, when describing the Dursleys, he sugarcoated it more than a candy apple. He could tell they weren't buying it. 'Hermione talks too much' he mumble to himself as he continued about their first year, second year, third year, Quidditch, and finally fourth year. This was the first time he was able to discuss Cedric's death, and the events at the end of the third task without openly weeping. He shed only a dozen tears and kept his voice calm and steady. He remembered he hadn't even told Hermione or Ron what happened. The shit was going to fly. He finished after an hour and politely asked to see how Hermione was managing with her schoolwork.
"In a minute, Harry. Just a few things we want to know before you leave our little chat…" Harry consented and Rock leaned closer. "Are you and Hermione, how do I say this, together?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand." He frowned.
"Are you dating, darling?" put in Ivy, who was tingling with anticipation, at least her honey eyes were.
"Oh. No, no were only friends" he felt the word echo in his head but shook it off. A lot of small things were beginning to unnerve him, all he had to do was refocus.
"Alright, then, got that out of the way…" Rick leaned in closer if it was possible "What about her grades? We see that she does well, but is she really doing well? Is she anywhere near the top of the class? Does she understand the material?" In spite of himself, he laughed loud and clear. Surely this was a joke. He couldn't stop for a few minutes, and only when he examined their sour faces did he realize they had misunderstood.
"Hermione…" he coughed "is by far the most studies oriented witch in the bloody school, pardon my language. She is too modest if you do not know that she is the top of every single class she takes. People beg her to tutor them and she does so. It is a given that she will end up Gryffindor prefect this year, and if she maintains her grades, Head Girl. She is the most brilliant student Hogwarts has seen in a long while, and the betting odds point to her setting a new record for most Ordinary Wizarding Levels ever gotten. I may bet against her, just because if by chance she doesn't, I will be very rich." He chuckled at their unsure faces. "I'm being one hundred percent honest here. How could she not have told you. My god." He shook his head in humor and surprise. She must never speak with her parents.
"So she does well?" Asked Ivy, still skeptical.
"She does the best of anyone." There was a long awkward silence. "Can I, um…" he waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the staircase. He really wanted to go, and perhaps eat something. Long talks tend to make the body hungry. Ivy appeared to not want Harry to go for whatever reason, but Rick allowed him to go, and he casually rose from his position and strode confidently from the room. The interrogation was not entirely a success, but he had dragged through it smoothly and effectively. He thought they were a bit snobbish, not as much as many people, but it was still there. They didn't present themselves as very concerned parents, but who needed to be concerned when you have a kid like Hermione. She practically took care of herself.
He jogged quickly up the stairs, fearing they would remember something to ask him and call him back. He found his room without trouble, and was glad to see it was still there, but he was at a loss to locate Hermione's room. He went down the hall checking behind every door on the left before crossing over to the right and checking every door on that side. He found a room that only had one word to describe it, wood. It had a polished wood floor, wood plated walls, wooden furniture, wooden bed, wooden desk and chair, wooden bookshelves, which held a lot of books, even the lamps were wooden. It all matched very well, and gave a natural homely type of feel. He could live there.
His attention turned to the bushy mop of hair slumped over the desk, a quill being dipped and scratched carefully yet rapidly over the thick parchment. He smiled at her, the way she always was able to just focus and succeed never ceased to surprise him. He tiptoed behind her and read over her head a bit. She had four different books laying in front of her, two open to Polyjuice Potion, a potion used to transform you into a different person for one hour. A different book was opened to Animatious Potion, a potion which allowed the transformation into your natural animagus form. The last book was hand written, neat but much more disorganized than her usual work. "I can't believe him. Ron has absolutely no regard for authority, and I think his outbursts are immature and silly. He rarely does his schoolwork and is irresponsible towards the feeling of others. The there's Harry. Harry is so wonderful. He's caring and gentle and always willing to lend you his heart and his ear. He tries to hide his pain, passing it off as insignificant, even to me. Because of his modesty I bet he thinks he is minor in the world. If only he knew how important he is to me." Harry nearly choked on his tongue. He was reading Hermione's diary, the most deep and dark secrets of her soul. 'Wrong, Harry, very wrong.' He scolded himself a few more seconds before he went back to looking at her. She seemed stiff, tense, anxious and composed all at the same time. She really needed to learn how to relax.
Instinctively his hands went to her shoulders. She jumped a little but continued writing whatever she was writing. He noticed her diary closed and was hidden in a drawer. He began to knead her shoulders softly, working the soft skin into her muscles. She stopped her writing and sat back sighing. He continued in silence, enjoying the obvious pleasure she was in. Her head tilted back and she looked up at him. It took all the restraint in the world not to try to look down the neck her dress. Her eyes fluttered very slowly, as if time was put on hold. He stared down at her with a sympathetic smile on his face.
"Do you feel any better now?" She didn't trust herself to look into his infinite emerald depths any longer and closed her eyes. She purred softly and rotated her head on her neck.
"It feels superb. Mmmmm. More on the neck." His hands gradually made their way to her neck, massaging her flesh. His warm hands on her body, partially on her bare skin drove her wild. She couldn't control the sighs and mumblings and moans that were inclined to escape her mouth. From the moment he began, she fell in love…with his skilled hands, that knew exactly how to touch her, and in the right places as well. "Harder" she said softly, desperately wanting his hands to wander. For a few minutes his hands worked tirelessly against her neck and shoulders until she took a long, deep breath in and out. He stopped and pulled her chair out from the desk, before walking in front of her. Her eyes opened slowly, and she was panting lightly.
"Do you feel any better now?" He spoke barely above a whisper. She looked deep into his eyes, and saw the joy that his pallid face hid. She responded unconsciously, leaning into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him into a firm hug. She pulled back just a little, enough to kiss him unyieldingly on the cheek. "That good, huh?" He chuckled.
"You're magnificent." She resumed the tight embrace, and his arms went around her as well. He let go and she follow, after placing another kiss on his cheek. It was getting to be a familiar action, but it still made him feel…he hated to use the word, but it made him feel all warm and, yes, fuzzy inside. Like stepping out of the cold and just letting himself warm up in front of the fire. She was smiling very attractively at him. He stood straight up again and smiled back at her pink cheeks. Was it him or was she doing this a lot lately? It was probably just him.*
"It's almost time for lunch. Maybe we should start going down." She checked her -wooden- clock and glanced suspiciously at him.
"We have twenty minutes to ourselves and you want to abandon it. What happened."
"You're going to be a bit mad at me." She sighed audibly, just to make him sure her desire for the suspense was waning. He continued sullenly. "You parents are good at persuading information out of me. They asked about, you know, and I told them. I meant to tell you, but I don't want you worried or scared. I love y…your smile and I don't want it crushed by Voldemort's evilness. You're so pretty when you're happy, and I don't want to ruin it with my, my, my…experience" he finished lamely. He expected her to be a bit upset, worried, left out, even jealous, but to his surprise and great relief, she wasn't. She hugged him again and began to whisper in his ear. He only listened a little, as her breath tickling his earlobe was a pleasant distraction.
"I'm just glad you could talk about it at all. I don't want you to tell me if it won't make you feel better."
"You deserve to know."
"I don't deserve much from you Harry. You've been the best friend a girl could ask for."
"You lie through your teeth."
"I would never…." He sat on the floor next to her chair, leaning his head against it. Feeling a little isolated sitting up in a chair alone, she slid off and sat across from him. He nibbled his lip, mustering up the courage again, to reveal his most painful moment.
"I'm going to tell you any way. Just…don't interrupt me. It'll go easier if I can just get it all out. I guess it begins in the hedge-maze. I got through a few obstacles, and heard Cedric yell…" Harry continued while Hermione listened as the events replayed themselves in front of his eyes. When he finished, Hermione was wide-eyed, but quiet. He supposed she knew fussing over this would be worse than futile. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. It was the first time he could remember rendering Hermione truly speechless. She gave him another squeeze before putting his hand in hers. He forced a smile. 'At least he's trying' she said to herself, over and over again. She knew that someway, he would get through this.
"So…" she began lamely, trying desperately to move on from the topic. It was apparent he didn't desire to continue after closing his story. She smiled at him, trying to cheer him up. He wasn't supposed to be sad today, he was supposed to be laughing and happy and playful. He was staring at her through eyes threatening to tear. Unable to think of anything to say she stood up, and paced over to her bed. "OH! How about lunch, you must be hungry." His head perked noticeably, and she smiled inwardly. Lunch was a start.
"Yeah, lets go to lunch, shall we? And then what do you have in store for me?" He jumped to his feet in anticipation.
"Um, we could, go shopping?" They walked together out of her room, and down the hall.
"Nah, something else."
"Do you have swimming trunks? We opened the pool yesterday. It may be a little cold but nothing too harsh."
"Sounds alright. What else is there?"
"We could just relax, read, sleep, anything you like." He sighed and let the ideas run through his head. 'It would be a nice day for snogging' he thought. Why that idea came to awareness he would never know. Maybe he was longing for someone to love. Back on the subject at hand.
"Swimming sounds good, I can transfigure my shorts into trunks. Behold, the power of magic." He poked her roughly. She laughed and shrieked, before jumping away. She returned swinging for a slap which he expertly ducked.
"Harry James Potter, just because you get special treatment doesn't mean you have to rub it in my face" she snarled through a giggle.
"I get special treatment, do I? Perhaps I should give you special treatment!" He began to tickle her and she screamed in laughter, before launching into a sprint. He maintained his position next to her, behind her, and on the other side as well, relentlessly tickling her to the bring of suffocation. That is how they entered the dining hall, red faced and laughing hysterically. She leaned on him for support, but in his hooting state he was in no shape to support her, and they fell onto the floor together, drawing them into another fit of snorts of laughter. It took a long two minutes for them to calm themselves down, aching from a lack of oxygen. Ivy and Rick were looking at them strangely, so they hushed themselves and took their respective seats at the large Mahogany Table, and matching velvet upholstered chairs. The dishes were of the finest china, and the silverware was…silver, actually. Harry felt very out of place.
"Dear, may I ask what was so funny that made you five minutes late for lunch as well act like a child when you finally arrived?" Ivy spoke with clear disappointment in her voice. Harry was surprised by how quickly Hermione threw it off. She was often one to weep when a professor talk to her with a disappointed tone, but then again, parents weren't professors. Hermione looked up at Harry a winked before chortling softly.
"Honestly, Mum? I've no idea, but it was quite enjoyable, and I wouldn't miss it again for anything." She turned pink, and Ivy hmphed to herself. Rick checked to see that Ivy wasn't looking before sending a reassuring smile Harry's way. He would always be grateful for Rick's understanding. If he only knew it would save his life in the future.
Harry felt a slight twinge in his scar. He jumped up knocking over the chair and he quickly glanced around; the expensive dishes, silver food ware, and crystal glasses. The Grangers were all looking at him strangely. "Fuck!" was the only word he used to describe the situation, and it did not settle well with Rick or Ivy, who looked both offended and startled. He touched his fingernail quickly, desperately needing to tell Dumbledore, as the pain slowly increased.
"Professor!" he said aloud, earning him weird stares from the three.
"Yes, Harry, how are you?"
"Sir, I'm going into another attack"
"Try to control the pain Harry, but I need you to let it happen. You are the most reliable source of information we have." Harry clenched his jaw as the prickling pain escalated more rapidly. He got an idea and tossed his wand to Hermione. She caught it out of fright.
"Tie me up" he groaned through a closed mouth.
"I'm not allowed to do mag…"
"Goddamnit! Hermione do it!" The last thing he saw before he fell into nothingness were ropes flying at him from the tip of his wand.
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*= PUN INTENDED!!!
I know some of you don't like cliffhangers, I don't, but it is the only logical place for me to stop right now, so I'm sorry, but what do you want me to do? Thank you to all of my reviewers, arcee, Stoneheart, RJLL, prongsjr, and especially Taracollowen, who keeps coming back. Thank you all, and may the sun shine brightly one your faces.
I won't ask you (other) people to review, because if you are going to, I appreciate it greatly, but if you aren't than there isn't much I can do about it is there? I don't know exactly where this should go yet. I have create a few scenes I like (in my head), but I am always open to input and suggestions. Fare well on the path you choose.
Special Note to ---Stoneheart---; I went over all my previous chapters and made corrections. YAY!!! Well, I made most of them. I hope you keep reading, =Nighttime Sunshine=
