Title: A Place to Call Home
Author: RuthErin
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters, places, names, etc. associated with the Harry Potter series.
Summary: The war is over. Harry leaves the Dursley's to spend one last summer at the Burrow, but things get off to a rocky start, as secrets are revealed and old grudges are brought to light. Time is running out for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny: they must ultimately decide what to do now that school is finished, where they will spend their futures-and who they will spend them with.
Author's Notes: This first chapter is dedicated to my sister, Colleen, who was my living Harry Potter dictionary when I first started writing this; and to Lauren who got me hooked on fan-fiction in the first place! There should be a 12-step program!
A Place to Call Home, Chapter One- Leaving the Muggles
~*~
Something made a sharp tap on the window causing Harry to jump several feet back from his trunk. The stack of textbooks on the edge of his trunk started to wobble, and almost fell from where they had been so precariously balanced. Harry managed to catch them with a quick levitation charm ("Wingardium Leviosa!"), before turning to see what had made the noise at his window.
Flying back and forth in front of his window was Aries, the middle-aged owl that Hermione had adopted after its retirement from the Hogwarts owlery. Harry hoisted the window open and accepted the roll of parchment from the owl. As Aries settled down for a nap on Hedwig's cage, Harry opened the letter. It was from Hermione, who had obviously already arrived at the Burrow.
Dear Harry,
How is your summer going so far? Mine is very good, but also very busy. I have been combing the Daily Prophet every morning for job ideas. There have been a couple of informative adverts, but nothing that I'm very interested in. I tried to convince Ron to look over the paper with me, but he got too caught up in some story about a three-headed puppy found in London. He reckons that it's related to Fluffy. I forbid him to mention it to Hagrid though-you know he'd go looking for it.
Have you got your N.E.W.T. Results yet? I got mine yesterday! It seems that my extra classes in arithmancy and potions have paid off! Ron won't let anyone see his results, and I think Mrs. Weasley is going to body-bind him if he doesn't show her soon. Fred and George, who've been visiting for the weekend, tried to sneak some veritaserum into his porridge this morning but it didn't work; it turned it a very unnatural purple and Ron refused to eat it.
We're all very anxious to see you again! Just think-in a few days you will be leaving the Dursley's forever. Mrs. Weasley has just walked by and asked me to remind you that you are welcome to stay here at the Burrow for as long as you like.
See you in a few days!
Love, Hermione
Harry grinned and added the letter to the thick stack he had already packed away in his trunk. Ever since the end of his fifth year, when Mad-Eye Moody had a little talk with Harry's aunt and uncle, Uncle Vernon had been, grudgingly, more tolerant of the owls that came to deliver Harry's mail. Ron had even been known to give Harry a call on the "felly-tone" on more than one occasion. His phone skills were (thankfully) improving; he no longer yelled into his end of the receiver.
Harry dug through his trunk, and finally found a quill and some parchment beneath his socks. He sat down at his desk and scribbled a quick note to Hermione. He had decided to leave for the Burrow a day earlier than he had planned and he wanted to let them all know so his arrival did not take anyone by surprise. He didn't mention the N.E.W.T.s at all. He had not received his results yet, and Hermione's letter had only made him feel more nervous. He gave Aries the letter, who gave a hoot of appreciation, stretched his wings, and soared out the open window. Harry watched until the owl disappeared into the clouds.
"I better finish packing or I'll never get out of this place." He mumbled, and then turned back to his trunk.
Harry awoke the next morning to the familiar sounds of his Aunt Petunia clamoring around in the kitchen. Outside it was a clear, beautiful day-- which only added to Harry's eagerness to leave. He lay in bed for a few moments, imagining what it would be like never to return to number 4 Privet Drive.
He heard his uncle stumble out of bed and clumsily make his way to the shower; a few minutes later he roared in pain, as Dudley flushed the toilet causing a surge of hot water to scald him in uncomfortable places.
Harry smiled. It would be very nice, indeed, to leave this place and never again return.
"Well Hedwig, in a few hours we'll be on our own. Think we can handle it?" The snowy-white owl hooted enthusiastically, and circled her cage impatiently.
"Right then; Let's do it."
Harry changed into a clean shirt and some new trousers that actually fit ("No more of Dudley's hand-me-down's for me!"). Then, grinning, he pulled out one of his brand-new wizard's robes. This one was black like his Hogwarts robes had been, but there was no Hogwarts Crest to mark him as a student, or as an under-age wizard.
He combed his hair, trying unsuccessfully to make it lie flat for the occasion, and then picked up his wand, which he had polished to a gleaming shine the day before. In honor of leaving the Dursley's, Harry was determined to look as much like a wizard as possible.
Harry took one last look around the room, set Hedwig's cage on top of his trunk, and headed downstairs. Aunt Petunia took one look at him and gave a tiny shriek. Dudley turned three shades of pale before finally settling on a weak green. Uncle Vernon (who was still grumbling, from behind his newspaper, about third-degree burns) narrowed his eyes until Harry wasn't sure he could see at all. Then, remembering Moody's magic eye, tried very hard, and very unsuccessfully, to pretend he didn't care that his nephew had the nerve to dress like a "freak" in his presence.
"Is there any-ahh-particular reason why you're dressed like a fre-I mean-a you-know-what this morning?" Uncle Vernon spat the words out and they seemed to taste very bad to him, indeed. His face was a deeper scarlet than usual, and it only deepened when Harry ignored him and turned to his aunt.
"I'm going to be leaving in a few minutes," she raised her eyebrows, and Harry continued.
"And I won't be coming back." He paused. "Voldemort is dead. He is gone forever. I know what you did for me, but I also know I have always been less than welcome here. So. consider this goodbye."
Aunt Petunia merely sniffed indignantly and turned back to the bacon she was frying. Uncle Vernon was now very purple in the face and he stared, with a shocked look on his face, at Harry.
"I'm not taking you anywhere. Get out of those freaky robes and come help your Aunt with the dishes!"
Harry could almost have laughed at the look on her face, but instead he smiled pleasantly at his uncle, who continued to sputter in indignation, and called out,
"Accio trunk!" His trunk, carrying Hedwig in her cage, flew down the stairs and Harry guided it gently to his feet. Harry leaned against his trunk, put one hand on the birdcage, and then, much to the astonishment of his muggle relatives, he disaparated with a loud crack. The last thing Harry heard was a loud shriek of anger-which could only mean that Dudley had found the fizzing whizbee, that Harry had "accidentally" dropped on the way into the kitchen.
"Don't worry, Aunt Petunia; it will wear off in an hour or so." Harry muttered cheerfully as he landed, with a loud pop, in front of the Burrow.
Author: RuthErin
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters, places, names, etc. associated with the Harry Potter series.
Summary: The war is over. Harry leaves the Dursley's to spend one last summer at the Burrow, but things get off to a rocky start, as secrets are revealed and old grudges are brought to light. Time is running out for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny: they must ultimately decide what to do now that school is finished, where they will spend their futures-and who they will spend them with.
Author's Notes: This first chapter is dedicated to my sister, Colleen, who was my living Harry Potter dictionary when I first started writing this; and to Lauren who got me hooked on fan-fiction in the first place! There should be a 12-step program!
A Place to Call Home, Chapter One- Leaving the Muggles
~*~
Something made a sharp tap on the window causing Harry to jump several feet back from his trunk. The stack of textbooks on the edge of his trunk started to wobble, and almost fell from where they had been so precariously balanced. Harry managed to catch them with a quick levitation charm ("Wingardium Leviosa!"), before turning to see what had made the noise at his window.
Flying back and forth in front of his window was Aries, the middle-aged owl that Hermione had adopted after its retirement from the Hogwarts owlery. Harry hoisted the window open and accepted the roll of parchment from the owl. As Aries settled down for a nap on Hedwig's cage, Harry opened the letter. It was from Hermione, who had obviously already arrived at the Burrow.
Dear Harry,
How is your summer going so far? Mine is very good, but also very busy. I have been combing the Daily Prophet every morning for job ideas. There have been a couple of informative adverts, but nothing that I'm very interested in. I tried to convince Ron to look over the paper with me, but he got too caught up in some story about a three-headed puppy found in London. He reckons that it's related to Fluffy. I forbid him to mention it to Hagrid though-you know he'd go looking for it.
Have you got your N.E.W.T. Results yet? I got mine yesterday! It seems that my extra classes in arithmancy and potions have paid off! Ron won't let anyone see his results, and I think Mrs. Weasley is going to body-bind him if he doesn't show her soon. Fred and George, who've been visiting for the weekend, tried to sneak some veritaserum into his porridge this morning but it didn't work; it turned it a very unnatural purple and Ron refused to eat it.
We're all very anxious to see you again! Just think-in a few days you will be leaving the Dursley's forever. Mrs. Weasley has just walked by and asked me to remind you that you are welcome to stay here at the Burrow for as long as you like.
See you in a few days!
Love, Hermione
Harry grinned and added the letter to the thick stack he had already packed away in his trunk. Ever since the end of his fifth year, when Mad-Eye Moody had a little talk with Harry's aunt and uncle, Uncle Vernon had been, grudgingly, more tolerant of the owls that came to deliver Harry's mail. Ron had even been known to give Harry a call on the "felly-tone" on more than one occasion. His phone skills were (thankfully) improving; he no longer yelled into his end of the receiver.
Harry dug through his trunk, and finally found a quill and some parchment beneath his socks. He sat down at his desk and scribbled a quick note to Hermione. He had decided to leave for the Burrow a day earlier than he had planned and he wanted to let them all know so his arrival did not take anyone by surprise. He didn't mention the N.E.W.T.s at all. He had not received his results yet, and Hermione's letter had only made him feel more nervous. He gave Aries the letter, who gave a hoot of appreciation, stretched his wings, and soared out the open window. Harry watched until the owl disappeared into the clouds.
"I better finish packing or I'll never get out of this place." He mumbled, and then turned back to his trunk.
Harry awoke the next morning to the familiar sounds of his Aunt Petunia clamoring around in the kitchen. Outside it was a clear, beautiful day-- which only added to Harry's eagerness to leave. He lay in bed for a few moments, imagining what it would be like never to return to number 4 Privet Drive.
He heard his uncle stumble out of bed and clumsily make his way to the shower; a few minutes later he roared in pain, as Dudley flushed the toilet causing a surge of hot water to scald him in uncomfortable places.
Harry smiled. It would be very nice, indeed, to leave this place and never again return.
"Well Hedwig, in a few hours we'll be on our own. Think we can handle it?" The snowy-white owl hooted enthusiastically, and circled her cage impatiently.
"Right then; Let's do it."
Harry changed into a clean shirt and some new trousers that actually fit ("No more of Dudley's hand-me-down's for me!"). Then, grinning, he pulled out one of his brand-new wizard's robes. This one was black like his Hogwarts robes had been, but there was no Hogwarts Crest to mark him as a student, or as an under-age wizard.
He combed his hair, trying unsuccessfully to make it lie flat for the occasion, and then picked up his wand, which he had polished to a gleaming shine the day before. In honor of leaving the Dursley's, Harry was determined to look as much like a wizard as possible.
Harry took one last look around the room, set Hedwig's cage on top of his trunk, and headed downstairs. Aunt Petunia took one look at him and gave a tiny shriek. Dudley turned three shades of pale before finally settling on a weak green. Uncle Vernon (who was still grumbling, from behind his newspaper, about third-degree burns) narrowed his eyes until Harry wasn't sure he could see at all. Then, remembering Moody's magic eye, tried very hard, and very unsuccessfully, to pretend he didn't care that his nephew had the nerve to dress like a "freak" in his presence.
"Is there any-ahh-particular reason why you're dressed like a fre-I mean-a you-know-what this morning?" Uncle Vernon spat the words out and they seemed to taste very bad to him, indeed. His face was a deeper scarlet than usual, and it only deepened when Harry ignored him and turned to his aunt.
"I'm going to be leaving in a few minutes," she raised her eyebrows, and Harry continued.
"And I won't be coming back." He paused. "Voldemort is dead. He is gone forever. I know what you did for me, but I also know I have always been less than welcome here. So. consider this goodbye."
Aunt Petunia merely sniffed indignantly and turned back to the bacon she was frying. Uncle Vernon was now very purple in the face and he stared, with a shocked look on his face, at Harry.
"I'm not taking you anywhere. Get out of those freaky robes and come help your Aunt with the dishes!"
Harry could almost have laughed at the look on her face, but instead he smiled pleasantly at his uncle, who continued to sputter in indignation, and called out,
"Accio trunk!" His trunk, carrying Hedwig in her cage, flew down the stairs and Harry guided it gently to his feet. Harry leaned against his trunk, put one hand on the birdcage, and then, much to the astonishment of his muggle relatives, he disaparated with a loud crack. The last thing Harry heard was a loud shriek of anger-which could only mean that Dudley had found the fizzing whizbee, that Harry had "accidentally" dropped on the way into the kitchen.
"Don't worry, Aunt Petunia; it will wear off in an hour or so." Harry muttered cheerfully as he landed, with a loud pop, in front of the Burrow.