From the Weasleys, Harry got the usual masses of candy and cake, as
well as one of Mrs. Weasley's sweaters. From Hermione came a notebook.
Harry eyed it warily, afraid it might break into song or tell him to study,
but Hermione demonstrated it's true purpose.
"Look, Harry," she said, "You and Ron never do your homework, and then you always copy me. So watch." As he did, Hermione got her own notebook and began writing in it. The words, "See Harry, now you'll never have to copy my notes again," appeared in his own notebook, in his own handwriting. Harry grinned, "Thanks, Hermione. Did you spell in yourself?"
Hermione flushed proudly and nodded. Ron ogled at her and said, "Can I have one for Christmas?" Hermione only rolled her eyes.
So the friends spent the rest of the afternoon and evening together, talking, catching up, reviewing Harry's story of his capture, and Hermione's side of it ("I was soooo worried Petunia wouldn't tell you! But when she found out the man Vernon had been meeting was a wizard, she seemed shocked, and then, when I mentioned Voldemort, well. that got her going all right!"), and Ron's side of it ("Everyone just took off, and I had no idea what was happening!").
Arthur Weasley arrived at around eight p.m., looking exhausted. As Molly brought him tea, he related what had happened to him.
"Dumbledore had received some kind of message, and he sent us to go get Harry. I was the first to get there, since I was the closet when I got the word. Even so, by the time I got there, I saw Lucius already had him, so I had to follow, but I didn't know at all what to do, so I hid outside and waited, and thought. I couldn't reach anyone of you, and I wasn't sure what was happening inside. It was hours and hours I waited, but I was too afraid to leave him there alone to get help, so I just stayed put and listened for anything important. At one point, Snape came outside, but he didn't see me, and I couldn't jeopardize his position, so I couldn't tell him either." He took a sip of tea, and sighed. "Finally around 2 p.m., I heard some laughing, and yelling, and I knew they were doing something awful. Harry, I'm so sorry, I was right outside and there was nothing I could do. But then the yells got louder and I heard You-know-who bellowing at Snape. Something like, 'SNAPE! WHAT HAPPENED?! WHERE DID HE GO?! FIND HIM YOU IMBECILES! FIND HIM!' Suddenly a pour of Death Eaters came outside, and I had to make a dash for it or be caught, so I hoped you were all right. I've just been reporting to Dumbledore, who said Snape saved Harry by turning his wand into a Portkey. I'm going to have to thank Snape thoroughly when I see him next. Harry, I'm so glad you're all right."
Harry smiled, "Thanks for following me, even if you couldn't do anything."
Mr. Weasley nodded and said, "You're like one of our own."
Harry looked down. It was nice of him to say that, and a few years ago, he would have liked nothing better. But that was before he knew Sirius, and, more than anything, he wanted Sirius to be his father, and to take care of him, but now, Sirius was gone. Harry felt his eyes moisten. Suddenly there were too many people around and he just wanted to be by himself. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up into Mr. Weasley's concerned face. Harry tried to smile, or at least tried to look like he wasn't crying, but neither worked.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley said in a low voice meant for only Harry to hear, "I found something for you in Grimmauld Place. It's a journal. I think Sirius meant for you to have it. There's a letter in it addressed to you."
Harry was crying openly now, and all Weasleys and Grangers were looking at him with worried faces. Mrs. Weasley guided him away from all those onlooking eyes, and no one said anything to them as she lead him upstairs. Arthur too excused himself and followed.
"All right now, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley when they reached his room, "You just sit here for a while. You've had a long day, and a long year, so you just let it all out and cry if you need to."
Harry did cry, and Mrs. Weasley held him and stroked his hair and murmured comforting words. Mr. Weasley came upstairs, but didn't stay long. He exchanged a glance with his wife, and set the journal on the desk in the corner. Then he turned and quietly exited, shutting the door softly behind him. It was odd for Harry, crying his heart out into Mrs. Weasley's motherly arms. No one had ever been his shoulder to cry on. His parents were dead, Sirius had been in hiding, and the Dursleys didn't care. Harry cried himself to sleep, and Mrs. Weasley tucked him in, removed his glasses, and shut off the light before going downstairs to rejoin her family. "Poor boy," she murmured to herself, "Never had anyone to love him his whole life." She wiped her eyes, which she hadn't realized were wet, and re-entered the living room.
"Look, Harry," she said, "You and Ron never do your homework, and then you always copy me. So watch." As he did, Hermione got her own notebook and began writing in it. The words, "See Harry, now you'll never have to copy my notes again," appeared in his own notebook, in his own handwriting. Harry grinned, "Thanks, Hermione. Did you spell in yourself?"
Hermione flushed proudly and nodded. Ron ogled at her and said, "Can I have one for Christmas?" Hermione only rolled her eyes.
So the friends spent the rest of the afternoon and evening together, talking, catching up, reviewing Harry's story of his capture, and Hermione's side of it ("I was soooo worried Petunia wouldn't tell you! But when she found out the man Vernon had been meeting was a wizard, she seemed shocked, and then, when I mentioned Voldemort, well. that got her going all right!"), and Ron's side of it ("Everyone just took off, and I had no idea what was happening!").
Arthur Weasley arrived at around eight p.m., looking exhausted. As Molly brought him tea, he related what had happened to him.
"Dumbledore had received some kind of message, and he sent us to go get Harry. I was the first to get there, since I was the closet when I got the word. Even so, by the time I got there, I saw Lucius already had him, so I had to follow, but I didn't know at all what to do, so I hid outside and waited, and thought. I couldn't reach anyone of you, and I wasn't sure what was happening inside. It was hours and hours I waited, but I was too afraid to leave him there alone to get help, so I just stayed put and listened for anything important. At one point, Snape came outside, but he didn't see me, and I couldn't jeopardize his position, so I couldn't tell him either." He took a sip of tea, and sighed. "Finally around 2 p.m., I heard some laughing, and yelling, and I knew they were doing something awful. Harry, I'm so sorry, I was right outside and there was nothing I could do. But then the yells got louder and I heard You-know-who bellowing at Snape. Something like, 'SNAPE! WHAT HAPPENED?! WHERE DID HE GO?! FIND HIM YOU IMBECILES! FIND HIM!' Suddenly a pour of Death Eaters came outside, and I had to make a dash for it or be caught, so I hoped you were all right. I've just been reporting to Dumbledore, who said Snape saved Harry by turning his wand into a Portkey. I'm going to have to thank Snape thoroughly when I see him next. Harry, I'm so glad you're all right."
Harry smiled, "Thanks for following me, even if you couldn't do anything."
Mr. Weasley nodded and said, "You're like one of our own."
Harry looked down. It was nice of him to say that, and a few years ago, he would have liked nothing better. But that was before he knew Sirius, and, more than anything, he wanted Sirius to be his father, and to take care of him, but now, Sirius was gone. Harry felt his eyes moisten. Suddenly there were too many people around and he just wanted to be by himself. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up into Mr. Weasley's concerned face. Harry tried to smile, or at least tried to look like he wasn't crying, but neither worked.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley said in a low voice meant for only Harry to hear, "I found something for you in Grimmauld Place. It's a journal. I think Sirius meant for you to have it. There's a letter in it addressed to you."
Harry was crying openly now, and all Weasleys and Grangers were looking at him with worried faces. Mrs. Weasley guided him away from all those onlooking eyes, and no one said anything to them as she lead him upstairs. Arthur too excused himself and followed.
"All right now, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley when they reached his room, "You just sit here for a while. You've had a long day, and a long year, so you just let it all out and cry if you need to."
Harry did cry, and Mrs. Weasley held him and stroked his hair and murmured comforting words. Mr. Weasley came upstairs, but didn't stay long. He exchanged a glance with his wife, and set the journal on the desk in the corner. Then he turned and quietly exited, shutting the door softly behind him. It was odd for Harry, crying his heart out into Mrs. Weasley's motherly arms. No one had ever been his shoulder to cry on. His parents were dead, Sirius had been in hiding, and the Dursleys didn't care. Harry cried himself to sleep, and Mrs. Weasley tucked him in, removed his glasses, and shut off the light before going downstairs to rejoin her family. "Poor boy," she murmured to herself, "Never had anyone to love him his whole life." She wiped her eyes, which she hadn't realized were wet, and re-entered the living room.