I don't own Harry Potter. (tear)
Chapter 3 Going Home
Life on Privet Drive didn't change much over the next two weeks. The mailman dropped off letters addressed to Mr. and/or Mrs. Dursley just like always. Various owls swooped in and out of a second floor window virtually unnoticed by the occupants of the normal little neighborhood, as was usual, each carrying with it a letter or two addressed to Mr. Harry Potter. The Dursley family devoured meal after meal, while Harry Potter pushed his meager portions around on his plate whenever forced to dine with them. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon dropped quickly into a deep sleep each night, while Dudley stayed up playing the latest computer games. The three of them woke each morning (or sometimes afternoon in Dudley's case.) fully rested. Harry Potter stayed up as late as possible each night only falling into a fretful sleep long after the loud snoring had begun in the room next door, only to wake a few hours later in a state of panic.
One such morning Harry sat once again on the edge of his bed trying to catch his breath. That poor man, Harry mused to himself and then shook the thought from his head. Snape would not appreciate the sentiment, and Harry now knew that he deserved much more respect than he received.
Harry often wondered whether he should apologize to Snape for the things he did at the end of last year. He wasn't sure if the man would even listen to him, let alone forgive him. Harry didn't know what he was going to do about last year, but he swore that from now on he would show the man the respect he deserved. If he was willing to go that far for the order. Harry would apologize if he ever got the chance. He found it a bit funny really. At first, the Death Eater meetings had hurt Harry the least, but now he wasn't sure he could stomach another round of lets-torture-Snape-for- not-showing-up-the-night-Voldemort-was-resurected. At least, they don't think he is a spy anymore. How is he still sane? Harry thought to himself. Then again, how am I still sane?
He rubbed his scar, which burned nearly constantly of late, and looked over at the glowing numbers on his bedside table. It was 4:30 in the morning. As it was a Saturday, he knew that the Dursleys wouldn't be up for at least another 2 hours. Needing something to occupy his mind and keep him from falling back to sleep, he started looking around his room for anything that might hold his attention. His homework was done, and had been reviewed multiple times. He had read and reread his textbooks, and everything else in his trunk until he could nearly recite them all on command. Hermione would be impressed.
None of Dudley's broken toys seemed worth a second look, but the shelves of books did seem to catch his eye. He ran his fingers over the crisp unbroken spines. They all looked brand new, as they had never been read, or even touched after they were first given to Dudley. He caught sight of a few that looked as though they had been read, and found them to be old school books. There was a small one, an older looking tome, whose binding was creased, and pages dog-eared. He pulled in from the shelf, and began to thumb through it. He knew that Dudley had never touched it. His school books rarely ever looked used, as he had other children do his work for him. It was more likely to have been his aunt's or uncle's. He let the pages fall through his fingers, until he came to the inside of the front cover. There was a sticker with the Hogwarts emblem beneath a small white box in the middle of the page with the words "This book belongs to" printed inside of the box. Harry nearly dropped the book when he read the next two words. In a tidy hand, the words "Lily Evans" stared back at that same woman's son. The book had belonged to his mother.
He opened the book to the first chapter only to find that it wasn't a text book at all. The book was a work of fiction that Harry was quite interested in reading. He made his way down stairs, to escape the relentless snoring from the next room.
He sat down on the sofa, and flipped forward to the first chapter. One hour later Harry was deeply immersed in a world of hobbits and dwarfs, wizards and dragons. With each turn of the page he felt closer to his mother. He loved to know that she too had once read those exact words. He had always felt some sort of physical connection to his father. He looked like his father. He had met his father's friends. He had his father's invisibility cloak. The only things he had ever had that linked him to Lily were his eyes and the relatives he had been left with. He didn't like to count the people he lived with though.
Harry was several chapters in when he heard a scream from up stairs. He looked around, panicked. He had completely forgotten his wand. It was still up in his room. He stupidly charged up the stairs. At the top he followed Dudley's terrified shrieks into his cousin's room. A young girl with bright blue hair, and violet eyes was climbing off of the large boy's bed. An older man with red hair was trying to conceal his laughter. A younger man whose hair matched that of the other made no such effort, and had tears in eyes, and was close to collapsing. Another man was standing to the side, waiting for the room's other occupants to control themselves. It was this man that Harry approached.
"Remus?" Harry raised an eyebrow to ask the obvious question.
"Tonks botched her apperation. She gave your cousin a bit of a fright. We meant to show up in your room, but she missed," Remus replied in a hushed tone. The grin he was fighting, was slowly showing itself as he spoke. He was apparently not quiet enough though, as the older of the two men in front of them turned to see who his friend had spoken too.
"Harry!" he shouted, drawing everyone's attention.
"Hi, Mr. Weasley. What are you doing here?"
"Well, we all thought that it would be best if you had a little extra protection on this trip, and Bill and I were free today, so."
"Trip?" Harry asked. No one had told him he was supposed to go anywhere.
"Yes, Harry," Remus answered, "We decided it was time to take you home."
"Home?" Harry was very confused now. According to everyone else, they were standing in his home. According to him, his home was Hogwarts. Were they taking him back to Hogwarts early?
"To Grimwald Place." Remus elaborated.
"What on earth is going on in here?" Vernon Dursley shouted as he entered in his bathrobe, his wife following shortly behind him.
"We don't have time for this," Remus sighed. "Why don't you two pack up Harry's room. He and I will grab his things from the rest of the house. Arthur, I assume I can leave these three to you?" Mr. Weasley nodded. Tonks headed for the door with the eldest Weasley child at her heals. The Dursleys did their best to shrink back into the furniture of the cluttered room, a little wary of what the sandy haired man had meant by that question. Remus placed a hand on the black haired teen's shoulder and led him from the room.
"Lead the way, Harry, but hurry. The Portkey is set for about five minutes from now." Harry led him downstairs, and grabbed the battered tome he had hurriedly discarded moments ago.
"That's it," Harry said heading for the stairs.
"What is it?" Remus asked. The young man had peaked his curiousity now, for Remus had always had a great love for books.
Harry, though, was a bit reluctant to share his secret with anyone else. "Um. just a book. I.I think it was." Harry's voice trailed off, and he handed the book over to Remus, who flipped it over to reveal fading gold letters identifying the book as The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.
"I love this book," Remus said with a smile, thumbing through the book, landing as Harry had on the inside of the front cover. His eyes sprung wide, and he glanced at the boy in front of him.
"I found it on a shelf with Aunt Petunia's old books," Harry explained. "I don't know why I didn't want to tell you. It's just. I've never really had anything of hers before."
Remus smiled at him, before saying, "We should hurry. We don't want to miss our ride." He handed Harry back the book, and they made their way back to Harry's room. They entered to find the other three holding a sheet of parchment between them, Bill with a tight hold on Harry's trunk. Tonks motioned them over and as soon as Harry's fingers hit the edge of the Portkey they were gone.
Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel. Images of the graveyard that haunted his dreams (when he was allowed his own dreams) flashed before his eyes. In reality the journey took mere seconds, but in that time Harry was trapped inside of his worst memories, and they seemed as though they would never end. Harry fell to his knees in the grass, and then his strength gave out and he fell face-down on his stomach. He could smell the earth beneath him. He could feel the cool handle of the tri-wizard cup in his hand, the heavy weight of Cedric's limp body in the other. He lay completely still, unwilling to move, as though afraid that he would once again trigger a sudden magical change of location, until he heard voices. Dumbledore? Harry wondered. He rolled over, and looked up into the very concerned eyes of one Remus Lupin, closely flanked by their fellow travelers. I'm not in the maze. It's been well over a year since I was. I am safe. Relatively speaking. Harry told himself.
Harry sat up and attempted to understand what exactly Remus was asking him. "Are you okay, Harry? Can you tell me what happened?" The werewolf who nearly always kept his cool had a slight edge of panic to his voice.
"Fine," Harry mumbled. "Just don't like Portkeys."
Black Manor was slowly making itself visible behind the wizard helping him to his feet. Harry walked toward the front door, following three rather concerned wizards. He was completely oblivious to the world around him, until the young witch next to him poked him in the ribs. He looked up at the sudden distraction, and gave her a small smile.
"Aww." she said, running her forefinger under his chin, "You've got peach fuzz. Somebody needs to teach you how to shave." He looked at her, a bit taken aback, opened his mouth and then decided against replying. Instead, he turned a bit red, and looked over at a bush in a neighboring yard.
They all entered the house, to find the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry kneeling down on the hearthrug, with his head in the fire.
"Yes I understand that completely, but that doesn't change the fact that." The person on the other end of the fire must have cut him off, because he did not continue. They decided to give the man some privacy, and made their way into the kitchen.
"Would you like some tea, Harry?" Mr. Weasley offered.
"Sure. Thank you, sir," Harry answered.
"Your very welcome Harry. I think we could probably all use a cup," he replied to the younger wizard.
Albus Dumbledore entered the kitchen, and sat across from Harry at the table. "It is very good to see you again Harry," he smiled warmly.
"Thank you, Professor. It's nice to see you, too." Harry greeted the ancient wizard.
"Tea?" Mr. Weasley asked the new arrival, as he rummaged through a cabinet for cups.
"That would be lovely, Arthur," the older man smiled. "Everything went well I assume?"
"As well as could be expected," Remus replied vaguely. Harry and Tonks both thought that now would be the best time to blush and duck their heads, but the headmaster was kind enough to pretend as though he hadn't noticed.
The six of them fell into friendly conversation. Harry asked about what had become of Kreacher, and was told that the elf had been taken in by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and they had seen him as a danger, and seen to it that he was executed. Mr. Weasley brought up the subject of O.W.L.s, at which point Dumbledore became quite interested in his tea, and chose to remain quiet, which Harry found rather unnerving. Tonks got bored, and decided to start experimenting with various eyebrows, which caused Harry to jump, and accidentally spill his tea when he spotted his friend sporting a single bright green brow above her violet colored eyes. He and Remus began to mope up his mess, when Tonks announced that she needed to check in at work, and Mr. Weasley agreed that he had better do the same. Bill decided that he should go and inform his mother that Harry was safe, so that she could stop pacing in front of the clock. They all said their good-byes, and were off. Professor Dumbledore stuck around long enough to tell Harry that he was happy that he was home once again, and then left also.
Harry look over at Remus after they had all gone. "You all keep saying that I'm home," Harry started.
"You are. We told you. Never mind, we forgot to tell you," he corrected. "This is yours." He half smiled.
"What?" Harry was trying desperately follow, but only ended up more lost.
"Well not really. It's the ministry's right now. They took possession of Sirius' estate when he was arrested, but he named you his sole heir. So when his name is cleared, this is yours," Remus explained. A loud shriek issued from the painting of Sirius' mother hanging out in the hall. "If you want it that is," he smiled.
Harry and Remus talked a bit longer, before Remus had to go, and Harry decided to try a nap. He walked slowly up the stairs, taking in his surroundings once again. The memories didn't overpower him here like he thought they would have. They were just there, waiting for him if he wanted them. He made his way to the room that he had shared with Ron last summer, and laid down on the bed. "Night, Phineas," Harry mumbled to the empty portrait frame. He then closed his eyes and fell into a rather restful doze.
A/N Two chapters. posted in two days. Go me! I'm so happy! Thanks again to Erfa. Thanks to all who reviewed. Do it again! Please?
Chapter 3 Going Home
Life on Privet Drive didn't change much over the next two weeks. The mailman dropped off letters addressed to Mr. and/or Mrs. Dursley just like always. Various owls swooped in and out of a second floor window virtually unnoticed by the occupants of the normal little neighborhood, as was usual, each carrying with it a letter or two addressed to Mr. Harry Potter. The Dursley family devoured meal after meal, while Harry Potter pushed his meager portions around on his plate whenever forced to dine with them. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon dropped quickly into a deep sleep each night, while Dudley stayed up playing the latest computer games. The three of them woke each morning (or sometimes afternoon in Dudley's case.) fully rested. Harry Potter stayed up as late as possible each night only falling into a fretful sleep long after the loud snoring had begun in the room next door, only to wake a few hours later in a state of panic.
One such morning Harry sat once again on the edge of his bed trying to catch his breath. That poor man, Harry mused to himself and then shook the thought from his head. Snape would not appreciate the sentiment, and Harry now knew that he deserved much more respect than he received.
Harry often wondered whether he should apologize to Snape for the things he did at the end of last year. He wasn't sure if the man would even listen to him, let alone forgive him. Harry didn't know what he was going to do about last year, but he swore that from now on he would show the man the respect he deserved. If he was willing to go that far for the order. Harry would apologize if he ever got the chance. He found it a bit funny really. At first, the Death Eater meetings had hurt Harry the least, but now he wasn't sure he could stomach another round of lets-torture-Snape-for- not-showing-up-the-night-Voldemort-was-resurected. At least, they don't think he is a spy anymore. How is he still sane? Harry thought to himself. Then again, how am I still sane?
He rubbed his scar, which burned nearly constantly of late, and looked over at the glowing numbers on his bedside table. It was 4:30 in the morning. As it was a Saturday, he knew that the Dursleys wouldn't be up for at least another 2 hours. Needing something to occupy his mind and keep him from falling back to sleep, he started looking around his room for anything that might hold his attention. His homework was done, and had been reviewed multiple times. He had read and reread his textbooks, and everything else in his trunk until he could nearly recite them all on command. Hermione would be impressed.
None of Dudley's broken toys seemed worth a second look, but the shelves of books did seem to catch his eye. He ran his fingers over the crisp unbroken spines. They all looked brand new, as they had never been read, or even touched after they were first given to Dudley. He caught sight of a few that looked as though they had been read, and found them to be old school books. There was a small one, an older looking tome, whose binding was creased, and pages dog-eared. He pulled in from the shelf, and began to thumb through it. He knew that Dudley had never touched it. His school books rarely ever looked used, as he had other children do his work for him. It was more likely to have been his aunt's or uncle's. He let the pages fall through his fingers, until he came to the inside of the front cover. There was a sticker with the Hogwarts emblem beneath a small white box in the middle of the page with the words "This book belongs to" printed inside of the box. Harry nearly dropped the book when he read the next two words. In a tidy hand, the words "Lily Evans" stared back at that same woman's son. The book had belonged to his mother.
He opened the book to the first chapter only to find that it wasn't a text book at all. The book was a work of fiction that Harry was quite interested in reading. He made his way down stairs, to escape the relentless snoring from the next room.
He sat down on the sofa, and flipped forward to the first chapter. One hour later Harry was deeply immersed in a world of hobbits and dwarfs, wizards and dragons. With each turn of the page he felt closer to his mother. He loved to know that she too had once read those exact words. He had always felt some sort of physical connection to his father. He looked like his father. He had met his father's friends. He had his father's invisibility cloak. The only things he had ever had that linked him to Lily were his eyes and the relatives he had been left with. He didn't like to count the people he lived with though.
Harry was several chapters in when he heard a scream from up stairs. He looked around, panicked. He had completely forgotten his wand. It was still up in his room. He stupidly charged up the stairs. At the top he followed Dudley's terrified shrieks into his cousin's room. A young girl with bright blue hair, and violet eyes was climbing off of the large boy's bed. An older man with red hair was trying to conceal his laughter. A younger man whose hair matched that of the other made no such effort, and had tears in eyes, and was close to collapsing. Another man was standing to the side, waiting for the room's other occupants to control themselves. It was this man that Harry approached.
"Remus?" Harry raised an eyebrow to ask the obvious question.
"Tonks botched her apperation. She gave your cousin a bit of a fright. We meant to show up in your room, but she missed," Remus replied in a hushed tone. The grin he was fighting, was slowly showing itself as he spoke. He was apparently not quiet enough though, as the older of the two men in front of them turned to see who his friend had spoken too.
"Harry!" he shouted, drawing everyone's attention.
"Hi, Mr. Weasley. What are you doing here?"
"Well, we all thought that it would be best if you had a little extra protection on this trip, and Bill and I were free today, so."
"Trip?" Harry asked. No one had told him he was supposed to go anywhere.
"Yes, Harry," Remus answered, "We decided it was time to take you home."
"Home?" Harry was very confused now. According to everyone else, they were standing in his home. According to him, his home was Hogwarts. Were they taking him back to Hogwarts early?
"To Grimwald Place." Remus elaborated.
"What on earth is going on in here?" Vernon Dursley shouted as he entered in his bathrobe, his wife following shortly behind him.
"We don't have time for this," Remus sighed. "Why don't you two pack up Harry's room. He and I will grab his things from the rest of the house. Arthur, I assume I can leave these three to you?" Mr. Weasley nodded. Tonks headed for the door with the eldest Weasley child at her heals. The Dursleys did their best to shrink back into the furniture of the cluttered room, a little wary of what the sandy haired man had meant by that question. Remus placed a hand on the black haired teen's shoulder and led him from the room.
"Lead the way, Harry, but hurry. The Portkey is set for about five minutes from now." Harry led him downstairs, and grabbed the battered tome he had hurriedly discarded moments ago.
"That's it," Harry said heading for the stairs.
"What is it?" Remus asked. The young man had peaked his curiousity now, for Remus had always had a great love for books.
Harry, though, was a bit reluctant to share his secret with anyone else. "Um. just a book. I.I think it was." Harry's voice trailed off, and he handed the book over to Remus, who flipped it over to reveal fading gold letters identifying the book as The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.
"I love this book," Remus said with a smile, thumbing through the book, landing as Harry had on the inside of the front cover. His eyes sprung wide, and he glanced at the boy in front of him.
"I found it on a shelf with Aunt Petunia's old books," Harry explained. "I don't know why I didn't want to tell you. It's just. I've never really had anything of hers before."
Remus smiled at him, before saying, "We should hurry. We don't want to miss our ride." He handed Harry back the book, and they made their way back to Harry's room. They entered to find the other three holding a sheet of parchment between them, Bill with a tight hold on Harry's trunk. Tonks motioned them over and as soon as Harry's fingers hit the edge of the Portkey they were gone.
Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel. Images of the graveyard that haunted his dreams (when he was allowed his own dreams) flashed before his eyes. In reality the journey took mere seconds, but in that time Harry was trapped inside of his worst memories, and they seemed as though they would never end. Harry fell to his knees in the grass, and then his strength gave out and he fell face-down on his stomach. He could smell the earth beneath him. He could feel the cool handle of the tri-wizard cup in his hand, the heavy weight of Cedric's limp body in the other. He lay completely still, unwilling to move, as though afraid that he would once again trigger a sudden magical change of location, until he heard voices. Dumbledore? Harry wondered. He rolled over, and looked up into the very concerned eyes of one Remus Lupin, closely flanked by their fellow travelers. I'm not in the maze. It's been well over a year since I was. I am safe. Relatively speaking. Harry told himself.
Harry sat up and attempted to understand what exactly Remus was asking him. "Are you okay, Harry? Can you tell me what happened?" The werewolf who nearly always kept his cool had a slight edge of panic to his voice.
"Fine," Harry mumbled. "Just don't like Portkeys."
Black Manor was slowly making itself visible behind the wizard helping him to his feet. Harry walked toward the front door, following three rather concerned wizards. He was completely oblivious to the world around him, until the young witch next to him poked him in the ribs. He looked up at the sudden distraction, and gave her a small smile.
"Aww." she said, running her forefinger under his chin, "You've got peach fuzz. Somebody needs to teach you how to shave." He looked at her, a bit taken aback, opened his mouth and then decided against replying. Instead, he turned a bit red, and looked over at a bush in a neighboring yard.
They all entered the house, to find the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry kneeling down on the hearthrug, with his head in the fire.
"Yes I understand that completely, but that doesn't change the fact that." The person on the other end of the fire must have cut him off, because he did not continue. They decided to give the man some privacy, and made their way into the kitchen.
"Would you like some tea, Harry?" Mr. Weasley offered.
"Sure. Thank you, sir," Harry answered.
"Your very welcome Harry. I think we could probably all use a cup," he replied to the younger wizard.
Albus Dumbledore entered the kitchen, and sat across from Harry at the table. "It is very good to see you again Harry," he smiled warmly.
"Thank you, Professor. It's nice to see you, too." Harry greeted the ancient wizard.
"Tea?" Mr. Weasley asked the new arrival, as he rummaged through a cabinet for cups.
"That would be lovely, Arthur," the older man smiled. "Everything went well I assume?"
"As well as could be expected," Remus replied vaguely. Harry and Tonks both thought that now would be the best time to blush and duck their heads, but the headmaster was kind enough to pretend as though he hadn't noticed.
The six of them fell into friendly conversation. Harry asked about what had become of Kreacher, and was told that the elf had been taken in by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and they had seen him as a danger, and seen to it that he was executed. Mr. Weasley brought up the subject of O.W.L.s, at which point Dumbledore became quite interested in his tea, and chose to remain quiet, which Harry found rather unnerving. Tonks got bored, and decided to start experimenting with various eyebrows, which caused Harry to jump, and accidentally spill his tea when he spotted his friend sporting a single bright green brow above her violet colored eyes. He and Remus began to mope up his mess, when Tonks announced that she needed to check in at work, and Mr. Weasley agreed that he had better do the same. Bill decided that he should go and inform his mother that Harry was safe, so that she could stop pacing in front of the clock. They all said their good-byes, and were off. Professor Dumbledore stuck around long enough to tell Harry that he was happy that he was home once again, and then left also.
Harry look over at Remus after they had all gone. "You all keep saying that I'm home," Harry started.
"You are. We told you. Never mind, we forgot to tell you," he corrected. "This is yours." He half smiled.
"What?" Harry was trying desperately follow, but only ended up more lost.
"Well not really. It's the ministry's right now. They took possession of Sirius' estate when he was arrested, but he named you his sole heir. So when his name is cleared, this is yours," Remus explained. A loud shriek issued from the painting of Sirius' mother hanging out in the hall. "If you want it that is," he smiled.
Harry and Remus talked a bit longer, before Remus had to go, and Harry decided to try a nap. He walked slowly up the stairs, taking in his surroundings once again. The memories didn't overpower him here like he thought they would have. They were just there, waiting for him if he wanted them. He made his way to the room that he had shared with Ron last summer, and laid down on the bed. "Night, Phineas," Harry mumbled to the empty portrait frame. He then closed his eyes and fell into a rather restful doze.
A/N Two chapters. posted in two days. Go me! I'm so happy! Thanks again to Erfa. Thanks to all who reviewed. Do it again! Please?
