A/N: I'd thought I wouldn't write anymore because I hated what I had, but why the bloody hell not? Here we go.
Chapter 2: Letters and News
Hedwig pecked at Harry's shoulder, and he reached up, absently, to give her a scratch on the head. She hooted quietly.
He was enjoying being able to do his homework at the kitchen table instead of on his bedroom floor, now. He could Banish it, quite quickly up to his room, in case company came, and Aunt Petunia seemed content to let him work there, except she'd forbidden him to make potions in the house. "I'll let you do your writing here," she'd said in a high tone of voice. "But anything with magic, you take to Mrs. Figg's house."
He could have written his potions essay at Arabella's, but he was enjoying the discomfiture that it gave the Dursley's for him to be sitting there, quite openly studying moving pictures in his Transfiguration book. Hedwig was also now welcome to flit about the house as she pleased, although Aunt Petunia had nearly had a fit when Hedwig had made a mess on the living room furniture. Harry had chuckled to himself before cleaning it up, winking at Hedwig on his way out. After the mess was gone, Aunt Petunia had become quite calm.
It was amazing how knowing that Harry had wizard friends two houses down would make Aunt Petunia suddenly more agreeable to the fact that Harry was living there and he was a wizard.
He wondered if giving the Dursley's the coins had changed her mind about him.
Of if she was afraid to make him move.
Or if she had finally realized that Lily Potter had never wanted to hurt her sister by becoming a witch.
In any case, he was still here, and his transfiguration essay was nearly done. He chewed on the end of his quill, trying to think of an appropriate ending paragraph and wishing Hermione was there to help him.
"Bloody owl!" a bellow came from the other room. "Bloody MIDGET owl!"
Harry stifled a laugh and gave a piercing whistle as Ron's owl, Pig, came hurtling through the house. "Hello, Pig," he said, reaching to catch the owl. Pig flitted out of his reach. "Pig," he said, his tone threatening. "Hedwig."
Hedwig flew up to the ceiling, straight into Pig's path, plucking Ron's letter from Pig's leg. "Go on, get some water, Pig," Harry said, still holding back a laugh as Uncle Vernon came into the kitchen, face red.
"Ruddy owl," he sputtered. "Owls at all hours, but that one—"
"I've cursed at Pig more times than you, Uncle Vernon," Harry said as Hedwig hooted at his uncle. "And be sure that Ron curses at him all the time."
Uncle Vernon made a sound of utter frustration, before grabbing a beer from the refrigerator and leaving the kitchen. Harry did laugh, then.
He pushed aside his essay, opening the letter.
Dear Harry,
What a week! First your party, be sure to tell Mrs. Figg that Mum wants the recipe for that cake she baked. Don't know that Mum will be able to do it, though, she's not much good at Muggle cooking, although Dad likes to watch her try. She can give it to Mum in the fireplace, she's staying at the Burrow this week.
Professor Lupin says to tell you that he had a good changing, and that he's glad you came to see him. It cheered him up a lot, I think, and Hermione says she's not seen him look so happy all summer. He didn't want her to stay here this summer, because, well, you know why, with her parents being Muggles and all, they've got to have some protection, and Hermione's the smartest witch in our year. Hell, in anybody's year. She's already done with all the homework we got over the break. Lupin has been Apparating over to see her every couple of days, though. Don't see why Hermione couldn't come over here, she passed her Apparating test with the highest score in seventy years. Mine's next week, I'm trying to concentrate on studying and not splinching myself. When's yours?
Fred and George said to say hi and that they're going to send you a couple of Canary Creams to try on Dudley. They've been sending Self-flossing mints to Hermione to freak her parents out, and it's working pretty well, get Hermione to tell you about it. Mundungus got them some crazy pixies, and they're trying to mix pixie dust and pepper to make you sneeze. Bloody awful. They're calling them Wheezes Sneezes.
Bill came back from Egypt the day after you left, you know he went there for a couple of weeks, right? He nearly got killed by a mummy last week, then came home and nearly got killed by our Mummy. Haha. He'll be all right, but the goblins wanted him to have a break, so you know how serious it was. I did think Mum was going to finish the job for the mummy, though.
Pig's been a bit hyper, you might want to send him straight home. Bloody owl. It's Crookshanks' fault, he tried to eat him the last time I sent a letter to Hermione. He's recovering from a near-death experience.
Anyway, I asked Ginny if she wanted to say hi, but she says she's going to send you another letter later, so be expecting it. Dad says hi, and Mum says to send you a hug. Bill would say hi, but he's still not talking, thanks to the curse that mummy put on him. He's had to write everything he wanted to say out in the air with his wand. You should have seen the day that I beat him at chess and he was swearing at me, and Mum walked in. Priceless.
Write back, will you? It's been bloody crazy around here. Even the wireless went crazy and it won't play anything but the same Weird Sister's song over and over again. Hope the Dursley's aren't being a bunch of gits, yeah, right, I'm sure they are.
Ron
Harry grinned, setting down Ron's letter. He reached for a piece of parchment, as Pig zoomed back into the kitchen, followed by a patient Hedwig. "Calm down, Pig, I'm writing you one to take back."
Dear Ron,
Crookshanks must really have scared Pig, he's acting crazy. Nearly gave my uncle a heart attack, though, so I guess it was worth it. They're not acting nearly like the gits they used to, I think me being allowed to use magic did part of it, and finding out that Mrs. Figg had wizards staying with her did the rest. I'll be sure to tell her to stick her head in the fireplace and give your mum the recipe.
Tell Bill I hope he can talk soon. Sounds like an interesting job, but I don't think I want it. Did Moody yell 'Constant Vigilance' at him, he's been roaring Arabella's head off with it every five minutes. She's ready to kill him for it.
My Apparation test is in two weeks. Got the letter from the Ministry today. Can't wait to see the Dursley's faces then. Moody and Tonks are going with me. Moody's Apparating ahead of me everywhere I go, and Tonks will be behind me. Dumbledore arranged it with the Ministry, I think, so I'm not too worried. Don't know what you're worried about either, Hermione nearly crammed that Apparation book into our heads before we left school.
Which Weird Sister's song is the wireless playing? The one Lupin gave me for Christmas seems to like to play "Give Me Back My Wand" over and over again.
Almost finished with that beast of a Transfiguration essay McGonagall gave us. If you see her, tell her that…well, never mind, don't tell her. Tell your Mum and Dad and everyone else hi for me.
Harry
"Come here, Pig," he said, and the little owl zoomed past him.
Harry wasn't Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for nothing. One hand shot out, and he grabbed the owl. Pig squawked, but held still so Harry could tie the parchment to his leg. "Go on back to Ron, now," he said. "And stay out of the living room."
Pig hooted at him rudely before taking off, straight through the living room, to Harry's chagrin, and he heard Aunt Petunia shriek. A crash met his ears, and he got up, poking his head into the living room to see her vase had been knocked over. She noticed it in horror, and Harry stuck out his wand. "Reparo."
The vase put itself back together, and she took a deep breath before picking it up and putting it back where it belonged. Harry disappeared back into the kitchen. His Transfiguration essay still wasn't done, but he would think up a proper ending later. Banishing his schoolwork back to his desk, (he did that a lot now), he went into the living room, sitting down across from Dudley, who was watching some sort of show with lots of explosions.
"You're not eating with Mrs. Figg tonight?" Dudley asked. While Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were still disapproving of all of Harry's wizardry, Dudley, for some reason, seemed enthralled at the idea after hearing Harry's story. Harry thought he was looking at it like it was a fairytale.
Harry shook his head. "Moody's over there, and I don't feel like being shouted at for having my wand in my pocket or over constant vigilance again." Dudley nodded and turned back to the television, and Harry wondered if his cousin perhaps wasn't nearly as bad as he thought he was.
Probably Dudley was, but it didn't matter.
Harry idly watched the television. It was a World War Two movie, full of planes and shooting. No wonder Dudley liked it.
"You know there were wizards fighting in World War Two?" Harry asked.
Dudley turned. "No way."
Harry nodded. "Hitler's right hand man was a wizard. And Winston Churchill was a Squib."
Dudley's mouth fell open, and looked like he was trying to decide whether to believe that or not, but Uncle Vernon butted in. "Poppycock!"
Harry looked up as the news service broke into the movie. Dudley groaned. "They're messing up the best part!"
"This is Janet White, from the BBC news service," the anchor said. "This just in, a explosion has rocked a dentist's office outside of London. Drs. Granger and Granger—"
The woman didn't have to continue. Harry was on his feet in an instant, and a fire sprang into the fireplace. Muttering a charm, he stuck his head in the fireplace. "ARABELLA! MAD-EYE!! HURRY!!!"
Mad-Eye was there in seconds, Apparating straight into the living room, wand out. "What is it?" he demanded.
"Hermione's parents office—there was an explosion—saw it on the Muggle news—" Harry said. Moody Disapparated with a sharp crack, and Harry pointed his wand in the direction of his room. "Accio parchment!"
His parchment came flying from his room, and his quill and ink quickly followed.
RON—
GET THEM TOGETHER NOW, SOMETHING'S HAPPENED TO HERMIONE'S PARENTS.
HARRY
He tied the scrap of parchment to Hedwig's leg. "Hurry, find Ron, take this to him."
Hedwig shot out the window, and Harry finally calmed down enough to listen to the news again.
"Even stranger is the pattern that appeared in the smoke above the clinic. Green smoke, appearing to look like a skull and snake, was seen by several bystanders."
"No," Harry whispered. "Oh, please no."
"What does that mean?" Aunt Petunia said, her voice quivering.
"The Dark Mark," Harry said. "Death Eaters shoot it into the sky when they kill someone."
Moody's head appeared in the fireplace. "Potter, get over here, we're going." The Auror's head disappeared again. Harry extinguished the flames in the fireplace.
"You're not going anywhere!" Uncle Vernon roared suddenly. "You're—you're staying right here. Up to your room where that bloody whats-his-name can't get you!"
Harry didn't listen, not even fazed that Uncle Vernon had actually said something concerning Harry's welfare in a good way, the front door of the house slamming behind him.
Privet Drive was surprisingly quiet, and Harry hurried down the street to Mrs. Figg's house. It was strange that Mad-Eye Moody's head had been in the fireplace, and most people on Privet Drive would faint if they saw it.
Moody was standing in the doorway, when Harry approached. "Move it, Potter!" he bellowed, and Harry sped up.
The fireplace was already roaring, making the living room uncomfortably warm for the first week of August. "Headquarters," Moody said, prodding Harry in the back with his wand. "Go on, then. I'll Apparate right behind you."
Harry took a pinch of the Floo powder on Arabella's mantel and threw it into the fireplace. Stepping in, he shouted, "Grimmauld Place!"
The fireplaces of wizarding houses sped by, and Harry finally stopped at one. He ducked his head out, and saw a bright red head waiting. "What the bloody hell is going on?" it yelled at him.
Harry brushed himself off as Mad-Eye suddenly popped into the living room, his pop considerably more quiet than Mundungus Fletcher's. "Where's Remus?" Moody demanded.
"He Apparated out of here as soon as your head left the fire," Ron Weasley said crossly. "Didn't tell me where he was going. WHAT'S HAPPENED TO HERMIONE?"
"Enough," Moody said. "Who else is here?"
"Fred and George are upstairs," Ron said, his face growing redder by the second.
"Good," Moody said. "Stay here." He Disapparated.
"Wonderful," Ron said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Don't you just love it how they don't bloody well tell us anything around here?" He looked at Harry. "What's going on around here?"
Harry pushed his glasses up further on his nose. "I saw it on the Muggle news. There was an explosion at Hermione's parent's
office."
Ron seemed to gulp for air. "Do they know if—if they're all right? Or where Hermione is?"
"Ron—" Harry started, wondering whether he should tell his friend. He glanced at Ron's freckled face, and knew he had to. He'd quit keeping secrets from his friends. All they managed to do was get people killed. "Er..the Muggles saw something, they said it on the news. The Dark Mark was floating over the office."
Ron sat down on the ratty couch, looking almost shell-shocked, and ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "Bloody hell."
Harry sat down across from him, noticing the strange quiet in the house. "What happened to Sirius' mum? I thought she'd be having a fit over all the noise in the house."
"When Lupin went to check on Hermione the other day, she gave him a spell to take the Permanent Sticking Charm off. We stowed all of Sirius' relatives in the attic so they can yell all they want to," Ron said gloomily.
"Oi! Ron! What in blue blazes is going on?" Fred yelled from the top of the stairs.
"Get down here, you prat!" Ron bellowed back. "NOW!"
"Whatever you say," Fred said, and Ron's breath went out in a whoosh as Fred Apparated directly into his lap. "Hullo, Harry," he said brightly. Ron shoved him off the couch in disgust, yelling the entire story at the top of his lungs.
"—AND NOW HER PARENT'S ARE PROBABLY DEAD AND WE DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE IS AND YOU'RE APPARATING INTO MY LAP, YOU GIT!"
Fred's first smile disappeared. "But—Hermione's not done anything—"
"She's Muggle-born," Harry said glumly. "And Malfoy hates her, so it's no wonder. He probably talked the Death Eaters into doing it for him."
Pig zoomed into the living room, dropped a letter in Ron's lap and shot straight off again. Ron stared at the piece of parchment, looking like he was scared to death to open it.
"Come on, Ron," Fred said. "If was bad news, they'd have come straight here to tell us."
Ron seemed some comforted by this thought and unrolled the parchment, reading it aloud.
Boys, (Weasleys AND Harry)
We found Hermione's parents, they're okay, just a bit singed. The mediwizards are taking them to St. Mungo's for the moment. We're trying to get all the Muggle's memories modified, which will be hard thanks to their news people. DO NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE. We're still trying to find Hermione, if she comes there, DON'T LET HER LEAVE. If she comes, tell her I'll take her to see her parents later.
Dad
"They haven't found Hermione," Ron said weakly. "Harry—Harry, what if they did the Killing Curse on her and then blew up the office to hide it—or—"
"If they wanted to hide a Killing Curse, they wouldn't shoot up the Dark Mark afterwards, would they?" George said, trying to be reasonable.
"HELP!" a voice screeched from behind them, and Harry looked up to see a tall witch. Her hair was more bushy than normal, as if the wind had been attacking it for days, and her wand was out and ready.
"HERMIONE!" Ron yelped, nearly leaping over the back of the couch. Harry followed him just as fast, squashing Hermione between them in a huge hug.
"Mum and Dad," she said breathlessly, pulling herself away from her two friends. "They—"
"They're all right, they're at St. Mungo's," Ron said. "Dad says you have to stay here, and he'll take you to see them after they get done Obliviating the Muggles' memories."
Hermione seemed to sag, and Harry and Ron helped her over to the couch. "Where have you been?" Ron demanded. "The last twenty minutes have been the worst of our lives, Hermione?"
"I was at my grandma's," Hermione said. "I was driving home when I heard—yes, driving, Ron, my grandparents don't know I'm a witch—on the radio there'd been an explosion. I had to find someplace to park the car so I could Apparate here. I was going to go straight to their office, but I knew if there were Death Eaters around, I couldn't, so I came here. And they're really all right?"
"Here," George said, Summoning a glass of pumpkin juice from the kitchen. "Take a breath when you talk, Hermione."
Harry ignored him. "We just got a letter from Mr. Weasley. They're all right, we promise."
Hermione took a deep breath. "Death Eaters tried to kill my parents." She looked up her friends. "Now what do we do?"
***
