Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all other people/creatures/things/evil
overlords affiliated with it belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I'm
only having a bit of fun, I'll put the toys back in the box when I'm done,
I promise.
It was the summer after Harry Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now with six weeks left until his sixth year, Harry was spending it by lying in bed with the lights off and a pillow over his head. Although it was very warm in his room, Harry didn't feel the heat. He only felt cold, though he was wrapped up in his wool blanket.
His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon noticed something odd about Harry when he came home for the summer; he was always odd, of course, but now it was definitely a sort of depressed odd. They, however, blamed it on teenage angst, for their son Dudley seemed to be going through this same teenage phase: staying out all hours, coming home intoxicated, and avoiding all parental questions by grunting uncommitedly and retreating to his room.
But there was something a little more peculiar about Harry's attitude. At least Dudley was getting out of bed, going outside, getting a bit of fresh air. All Harry did was stay in bed with the lights out, staring out into space. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. Aunt Petunia barged in his room one day and found him under the covers, wide awake but very weary-looking. He wouldn't get out of bed when Uncle Vernon pelted him with some pinecones, tempted him with money, or even threatened Harry's own life.
After a while, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon ignored him. "If he doesn't want to eat, then fine. More for me," Uncle Vernon snarled. Harry wouldn't tell them why he was acting this way, but that suited his aunt and uncle. "Less problems we have to deal with, the better," Aunt Petunia sniffed. They didn't really bother to find out more because, frankly, they didn't really care.
Harry was thankful that everyone left him alone. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone; at least, the only person he wanted to talk to was dead. He wouldn't answer letters from his friends. He was angry at everyone, even the people who were least deserving of it. He was depriving his body of food and sleep. Muggles would probably call Harry clinically depressed, but his aunt and uncle called it insanity.
Harry kept going over the dreaded event in his mind. It was all he could think about, day in and day out. He kept thinking about how he could have prevented it, stopped it somehow. It seemed so unreal to think that Sirius was gone, how Harry would never talk to him again, would never see him again. The unfairness of it just angered Harry more than anything. Sirius didn't deserve to die. Why couldn't it have been someone else? He took Sirius' death as a personal attack, and blamed himself for it. He accused himself of murder and wondered when he would be arrested and taken to Azkaban. He waited every day for the Ministry to show up at the doorstep, to break his wand in half and ship him off to the dementors. He would much rather go mad in Azkaban than stay at his relatives' house, which was the last place he ever wanted to be. The only good thing about being there was that everyone left him alone.
Which is why Harry was so surprised when Uncle Vernon came to his room one day.
"Get up, you," Uncle Vernon grunted. "We have company."
Harry grimaced; seeing other people was definitely not on his To Do list for the day. "Why do I have to come down?"
"Because she wants to see everyone in the family and she'll eventually meet you, so we might as well get it over with," Uncle Vernon said in a dangerous voice. "So get out of that damn bed for once and come down to the kitchen."
Harry's only response was to bury himself deeper under his covers. Uncle Vernon growled and grabbed a hunk of Harry's messy black hair, trying to pull him out of bed. Harry yelped and tried to hit Uncle Vernon's arms away from him. "Come on," Uncle Vernon grunted. "For the last time: Get out of this bloody bed and down into the kitchen! We have company!"
"Who is this person anyway?!" Harry yelled. "I DON'T WANT TO MEET HER!!"
"You'll bloody meet her if I want you to!" Uncle Vernon yelled back. "Come on, boy!"
Reluctantly, Harry slowly got out of bed. With Uncle Vernon leading, Harry trodded on the carpeted floor. It had been a while since he had gotten any kind of exercise at all, and his weak muscles protested the sudden movement. Uncle Vernon paused before the door to the kitchen, and looked back at Harry, a look of disgust on his face. "Can't you fix that hair of yours? Make yourself more presentable?!" Uncle Vernon whispered savagely as he entered the kitchen.
Harry stood where he was, debating whether to go into the kitchen or not. "Ahh, Ms. O'Connor, what would you like to drink?" Harry heard Uncle Vernon simper. It's probably one of his stupid coworkers, Harry thought bitterly. No way in hell would I want to meet a coworker of Uncle Vernon.
"Harry!" Uncle Vernon called. "Come in here now!" An awkward laugh escaped Harry's uncle. "You shouldn't mind him, really," Aunt Petunia said. "He's a teenager."
Harry heard a soft, lilting laugh. "I don't mind," said a soft voice. Harry found himself interested. Who was this woman, really?
"Harry Potter!!" Uncle Vernon called, his voice pronouncely louder. Harry took a deep breath, and entered the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was busy cooking breakfast, and Uncle Vernon was sitting at the kitchen table with a pretty young woman, probably in her early twenties. She had wavy black hair, ivory- white skin, and piercing blue eyes. She smiled pleasantly at Harry. "Hello," the woman said softly. Harry thought he saw something flicker in her eyes, but it was gone before he could determine what it was.
"Harry, introduce yourself. Where's your manners?" Uncle Vernon said delicately. Harry shot a look at his uncle, who was red-faced. Harry looked back at the young woman. "I'm, I'm Harry Potter," he said.
The woman smiled. "I know," she said. "I'm Siobhan O'Connor. I'm going to be staying here for a while." She had a pleasant Irish brogue, which made her voice sound like a carousel––the tone went up and down.
"You are? What for?" Harry asked incredulously. Siobhan smiled.
Aunt Petunia chuckled awkwardly. "Now, Harry, don't be rude. Ms. O'Connor is going to be boarding here. She's renting the guest bedroom. She's in Surrey for––what was it, did you say?"
"Detective work," Siobhan said, smiling mysteriously. Aunt Petunia chuckled, "Yes, apparently there was a murder somewhere around here, though I didn't hear anything about it," she contributed, "and you're investigating it, aren't you?" she asked Siobhan, who nodded.
"How very exciting that must be!" Uncle Vernon boomed. Siobhan smiled. "Yes, but very dangerous at times," she said, looking right at Harry.
"Well, that's to be expected, with all the crazy lunatics out there. Well, Petunia, is breakfast ready yet? I must say, I'm starving."
"Me too, Mum," Dudley complained as he entered the kitchen. He scratched his head and performed a double-take at the kitchen table. "Who are you?" he asked Siobhan, who introduced herself briefly. Harry thought he saw distaste on her face as she looked at Dudley. Well, at least she's sensible, Harry thought to himself.
"Don't you remember, sweetums? She's the one who's renting out the guest bedroom," Aunt Petunia said as she filled everyone's plates with pancakes. Harry noticed that he got only three, and the others got nearly three times the amount he did. Siobhan also noticed this, and gave Harry an apologetic look.
Harry looked away from her and tentatively took a bite of his pancakes after being urged viciously by Uncle Vernon. Harry had forgotten how hungry he was, and he vociferously ate the lot on his plate. His stomach growled loudly, and Siobhan took notice. "Would you like some of mine, Harry?" she asked.
Aunt Petunia pivoted sharply. "Oh no, Harry's fine," she said, and she whipped Harry's plate out from under him, and promptly tossed it into the dishwasher. Harry leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes.
Siobhan watched the scene before her with disbelief. How could they deprive their nephew of food, when he was so obviously malnourished? She snapped her fingers, and the Dursley family members froze. "Harry, here, eat mine," she said, and pushed her plate over to Harry.
Harry stared in disbelief at his stationary relatives, and looked back at Siobhan. "How did--what did you--what happened?" he asked dumbly.
"I stopped time," Siobhan said simply. "Hurry up and eat, the spell doesn't last long."
"Spell? Are you a witch?" Harry asked as he stuffed his mouth with pancake.
"Now, now, no name calling," she smirked. "But if you must know, yes, I can perform magic. See, I am from a small magical clan in Ireland which prides itself on being one of the few clans to ever use wandless and thought magic."
"What's thought magic?"
"Well, you know what telekinesis and telepathy are, right?" Harry nodded. "Right, well," Siobhan continued, "It's like that. You think of a spell you want to do, and you perform it. No wands, no incantations."
"That sounds hard," Harry said uncommitedly, trying to act as uninterested as possible.
"Believe me, it takes years of study. I started training when I was five years old, and I'm still learning. But it conflicts with my Auror training."
"What? You're an Auror?" Harry asked, finishing up his food. "So the detective thing is a crock, is it? What are you really here for?"
"Well, I suppose I'm here to protect you," Siobhan shrugged. "And you look like you really need it, too, look at the state you're in."
Harry got very angry in the span of two seconds. "DID THAT PRAT DUMBLEDORE SEND YOU?!" he yelled. "AM I GOING TO BE TREATED LIKE A LITTLE CHILD JUST LIKE LAST SUMMER? HAVING PEOPLE FOLLOW ME AROUND AND SPY ON ME? OH, THIS IS BLOODY UNBELIEVABLE!!!"
Harry's outburst didn't seem to faze Siobhan. "I know, that's exactly what I told Dumbledore," she said.
Harry narrowed his eyes at Siobhan. "What?"
"Don't worry Harry, no one from the Order is sneaking around trying to keep an eye on you now. But Arabella Figg is off on vacation in Jamaica, and he sent me. However, he didn't warn me against any teenage angst," Siobhan said, casting an amused look at Harry.
"Well, I have a lot to be upset about," Harry mumbled.
Sinead smiled. "I know you do, Harry. You've had to deal with many distressing things at a very young age. And I'm sorry about Sirius," she said.
Harry snapped his head up to look at her. "What?" he asked. "Did, did you know--?"
Suddenly, the Durleys went back into motion, unaware that they had been frozen. "Ah, Siobhan, you finished your pancakes!" Aunt Petunia trilled. "Would you like any more?"
"Oh, no thank you, Petunia. I'm very full. I think I'm going to go get settled in my room, if that's all right," Siobhan replied.
"Oh yes, of course," Aunt Petunia said, and she gathered Siobhan's dirty dishes. Siobhan rose from her chair, and with a little wink at Harry, she left the kitchen. Dudley avidly stared after her. Uncle Vernon chuckled and nudged Dudley with his elbow. "You fancy her then, eh, Dudley?" he asked. Dudley turned pinker and shrugged. "I dunno," he said quietly, looking up at Harry and narrowing his eyes dangerously.
Harry, disgusted at the prospect of Dudley having a crush, marched swiftly out of the kitchen. He saw the pile of letters near the front door, and he looked through them. Bills, bills, postcard from Aunt Marge, bills, bills, and a letter to his aunt and uncle from Dudley's school. Probably for threatening little children again, Harry thought grimly. He tossed the post back onto the floor and proceeded up the stairs. He had gotten a letter from Dumbledore earlier in the summer. Dear Harry, it began, I want to take this opportunity to send you my deepest apologies. I fear I have caused you more heartbreak than anyone could ever have in a dozen lifetimes. You have every right to hate me, of course, but just know that there are still many people who love and care about you.
Harry knew that people loved him, of course; however, it didn't stop him from hating Dumbledore, for blaming himself, for getting angry all the time. Didn't it?
Harry got to the door of his room, and paused. He looked down the hall toward the guest bedroom, where he could hear faint voices. He walked slowly down the hall until he was facing the door of the guest bedroom. The sounds had stopped. He hesitated, then knocked briskly on the wooden door.
"Come in," a voice called. Harry turned the knob and pushed the door open. Siobhan was unpacking her stuff from a bag on the bed. "Oh, hey, Harry, what's up?" she asked. Before Harry could answer, a bag on the floor next to him erupted red smoke. Harry, taken aback, tripped backwards and fell on the floor. "Wh-what was that?" Harry gasped.
"A warning," Siobhan said quietly. She went to the bag on the floor and pulled out a bronze device. At first glance, Harry thought it looked like a compass; it was round and small, but then he could see that there were three hands on it, and different symbols were printed all around like numbers on a clock. On the outside of the device, there were three knobs positioned on it like a tripod. Siobhan turned these knobs each halfway around, and twiddled around with the hands, pointing them to different symbols. "Hmm," she said, and put the device back. She got up, went to the window, and peered out of it, looking all directions.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
Siobhan turned back to Harry, and smiled. "Voldemort sure is fast," she said.
Of all the responses Harry could have imagined, this was the one he never would have thought of. "What?" he asked.
"He's sent his minions to spy on you already," Siobhan answered. "I can tell they're here. They probably know I'm here, too. Damn," she muttered, "I might not be able to go to London, then..."
Harry was bursting with questions. "Are you part of the Ord--?"
"Harry," Siobhan interrupted quickly, "would you please tell your aunt that I need a map of Surrey as soon as possible?"
"Sure," said Harry, a bit disappointed. He went downstairs to the kitchen, where Aunt Petunia was busy washing dishes. "Aunt Petunia?" he asked.
"Ehh," was the response.
"Ms. O'Connor wanted me to ask you for a map of Surrey."
Aunt Petunia didn't answer; instead, she kept washing dishes for a few good minutes. Then, after turning off the water, she turned around to face Harry. "I'll get it to her," she said, leaving the kitchen. Harry heard her go into the living room and ask, "Vernon, where are the maps?"
Harry left the kitchen as well and went up the stairs, heading to his room. He was tired already, though it was only 10:00 in the morning, and he was ready to go to sleep. But when he entered his room, he saw Siobhan crouched at his window, peering out of them with a pair of Omnioculars.
"Er--what are you doing?" he asked.
Siobhan turned around briefly. "Hello, Harry. I'm trying to figure out how many people are spying around here, and where exactly they're hidden." She looked to a different spot with the Omnioculars. "Aha--there's one of them. Want to see, Harry?"
Harry hesitated. "Er, I don't know..." he began.
"Are you worried?" Siobhan asked kindly. "It's okay, I rigged some wards around this house--they won't be able to see us. They can't come in here because of the protection your mother gave you, and as long as you're here, they can't harm you." Siobhan smiled. "What do you say, boyo? Want a look?"
Harry took a deep breath and walked slowly toward the window. He knelt down and took a tentative look out of the window. "Now," Siobhan said, and handed him the Omnioculars, "take a look at that hedge next door. You see how it's sort of shimmering? Like a mirage?"
"Yeah," said Harry, looking through the Omnioculars. "I see it."
"Well, that's a person in it. Must have used a Morphing Charm."
"A Morphing Charm? Isn't that when you hide in an object?"
"Yes and no. It's a very useful hiding tool. To use it, one must pick an inanimate object. When performed correctly, the charm will allow you to become part of it temporarily, so you can basically hide within it. But when you look through these," Siobhan indicated the Omnioculars, "you can see if someone is using magic to conceal themselves."
"Omnioculars can do that?" Harry said, bewildered.
"Omnioculars? These? No way! These are Spy-Focals. Used in Auror training, but really very useful for anyone."
Harry was entranced with the Spy-Focals and wanted to use them more, but Siobhan took them and stood up. "I'll see you later, Harry," she said. "Maybe not even until tomorrow, if things work out as planned." She walked over to the door and paused, turning around. She stared intently at Harry. "You know," she said, "I admire you. Not because of who you are, but because of what you've been through, and how you've dealt with it. I know it's hard now, but hopefully later you'll realise that you are the luckiest person in the history of the world." She winked and left the room.
Harry looked at the closed door to his room, thinking about what she said. In the hallway, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. "You wanted a map of Surrey, is that right, Ms. O'Connor?" Aunt Petunia said.
"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Dursley. By the way, I'm very sorry, but I've been called in on business and I must leave for London right away."
"Oh, very well. How are you getting there?"
"I've got a ride. I'll be back sometime tomorrow."
Harry couldn't hear what they were saying anymore, because they had started using quieter voices. Harry went to his bed and flopped on his backside. From across the room, Hedwig hooted. Harry looked over at her. "It's been an odd day, Hedwig," he said, and he rolled over and promptly fell asleep.
Well, that was the first chapter. I don't know when the second one will be out (considering that I haven't written it yet... ^^;;) Questions? Comments? I would love some reviews, please and thank you. ~T*H~
It was the summer after Harry Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now with six weeks left until his sixth year, Harry was spending it by lying in bed with the lights off and a pillow over his head. Although it was very warm in his room, Harry didn't feel the heat. He only felt cold, though he was wrapped up in his wool blanket.
His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon noticed something odd about Harry when he came home for the summer; he was always odd, of course, but now it was definitely a sort of depressed odd. They, however, blamed it on teenage angst, for their son Dudley seemed to be going through this same teenage phase: staying out all hours, coming home intoxicated, and avoiding all parental questions by grunting uncommitedly and retreating to his room.
But there was something a little more peculiar about Harry's attitude. At least Dudley was getting out of bed, going outside, getting a bit of fresh air. All Harry did was stay in bed with the lights out, staring out into space. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. Aunt Petunia barged in his room one day and found him under the covers, wide awake but very weary-looking. He wouldn't get out of bed when Uncle Vernon pelted him with some pinecones, tempted him with money, or even threatened Harry's own life.
After a while, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon ignored him. "If he doesn't want to eat, then fine. More for me," Uncle Vernon snarled. Harry wouldn't tell them why he was acting this way, but that suited his aunt and uncle. "Less problems we have to deal with, the better," Aunt Petunia sniffed. They didn't really bother to find out more because, frankly, they didn't really care.
Harry was thankful that everyone left him alone. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone; at least, the only person he wanted to talk to was dead. He wouldn't answer letters from his friends. He was angry at everyone, even the people who were least deserving of it. He was depriving his body of food and sleep. Muggles would probably call Harry clinically depressed, but his aunt and uncle called it insanity.
Harry kept going over the dreaded event in his mind. It was all he could think about, day in and day out. He kept thinking about how he could have prevented it, stopped it somehow. It seemed so unreal to think that Sirius was gone, how Harry would never talk to him again, would never see him again. The unfairness of it just angered Harry more than anything. Sirius didn't deserve to die. Why couldn't it have been someone else? He took Sirius' death as a personal attack, and blamed himself for it. He accused himself of murder and wondered when he would be arrested and taken to Azkaban. He waited every day for the Ministry to show up at the doorstep, to break his wand in half and ship him off to the dementors. He would much rather go mad in Azkaban than stay at his relatives' house, which was the last place he ever wanted to be. The only good thing about being there was that everyone left him alone.
Which is why Harry was so surprised when Uncle Vernon came to his room one day.
"Get up, you," Uncle Vernon grunted. "We have company."
Harry grimaced; seeing other people was definitely not on his To Do list for the day. "Why do I have to come down?"
"Because she wants to see everyone in the family and she'll eventually meet you, so we might as well get it over with," Uncle Vernon said in a dangerous voice. "So get out of that damn bed for once and come down to the kitchen."
Harry's only response was to bury himself deeper under his covers. Uncle Vernon growled and grabbed a hunk of Harry's messy black hair, trying to pull him out of bed. Harry yelped and tried to hit Uncle Vernon's arms away from him. "Come on," Uncle Vernon grunted. "For the last time: Get out of this bloody bed and down into the kitchen! We have company!"
"Who is this person anyway?!" Harry yelled. "I DON'T WANT TO MEET HER!!"
"You'll bloody meet her if I want you to!" Uncle Vernon yelled back. "Come on, boy!"
Reluctantly, Harry slowly got out of bed. With Uncle Vernon leading, Harry trodded on the carpeted floor. It had been a while since he had gotten any kind of exercise at all, and his weak muscles protested the sudden movement. Uncle Vernon paused before the door to the kitchen, and looked back at Harry, a look of disgust on his face. "Can't you fix that hair of yours? Make yourself more presentable?!" Uncle Vernon whispered savagely as he entered the kitchen.
Harry stood where he was, debating whether to go into the kitchen or not. "Ahh, Ms. O'Connor, what would you like to drink?" Harry heard Uncle Vernon simper. It's probably one of his stupid coworkers, Harry thought bitterly. No way in hell would I want to meet a coworker of Uncle Vernon.
"Harry!" Uncle Vernon called. "Come in here now!" An awkward laugh escaped Harry's uncle. "You shouldn't mind him, really," Aunt Petunia said. "He's a teenager."
Harry heard a soft, lilting laugh. "I don't mind," said a soft voice. Harry found himself interested. Who was this woman, really?
"Harry Potter!!" Uncle Vernon called, his voice pronouncely louder. Harry took a deep breath, and entered the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was busy cooking breakfast, and Uncle Vernon was sitting at the kitchen table with a pretty young woman, probably in her early twenties. She had wavy black hair, ivory- white skin, and piercing blue eyes. She smiled pleasantly at Harry. "Hello," the woman said softly. Harry thought he saw something flicker in her eyes, but it was gone before he could determine what it was.
"Harry, introduce yourself. Where's your manners?" Uncle Vernon said delicately. Harry shot a look at his uncle, who was red-faced. Harry looked back at the young woman. "I'm, I'm Harry Potter," he said.
The woman smiled. "I know," she said. "I'm Siobhan O'Connor. I'm going to be staying here for a while." She had a pleasant Irish brogue, which made her voice sound like a carousel––the tone went up and down.
"You are? What for?" Harry asked incredulously. Siobhan smiled.
Aunt Petunia chuckled awkwardly. "Now, Harry, don't be rude. Ms. O'Connor is going to be boarding here. She's renting the guest bedroom. She's in Surrey for––what was it, did you say?"
"Detective work," Siobhan said, smiling mysteriously. Aunt Petunia chuckled, "Yes, apparently there was a murder somewhere around here, though I didn't hear anything about it," she contributed, "and you're investigating it, aren't you?" she asked Siobhan, who nodded.
"How very exciting that must be!" Uncle Vernon boomed. Siobhan smiled. "Yes, but very dangerous at times," she said, looking right at Harry.
"Well, that's to be expected, with all the crazy lunatics out there. Well, Petunia, is breakfast ready yet? I must say, I'm starving."
"Me too, Mum," Dudley complained as he entered the kitchen. He scratched his head and performed a double-take at the kitchen table. "Who are you?" he asked Siobhan, who introduced herself briefly. Harry thought he saw distaste on her face as she looked at Dudley. Well, at least she's sensible, Harry thought to himself.
"Don't you remember, sweetums? She's the one who's renting out the guest bedroom," Aunt Petunia said as she filled everyone's plates with pancakes. Harry noticed that he got only three, and the others got nearly three times the amount he did. Siobhan also noticed this, and gave Harry an apologetic look.
Harry looked away from her and tentatively took a bite of his pancakes after being urged viciously by Uncle Vernon. Harry had forgotten how hungry he was, and he vociferously ate the lot on his plate. His stomach growled loudly, and Siobhan took notice. "Would you like some of mine, Harry?" she asked.
Aunt Petunia pivoted sharply. "Oh no, Harry's fine," she said, and she whipped Harry's plate out from under him, and promptly tossed it into the dishwasher. Harry leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes.
Siobhan watched the scene before her with disbelief. How could they deprive their nephew of food, when he was so obviously malnourished? She snapped her fingers, and the Dursley family members froze. "Harry, here, eat mine," she said, and pushed her plate over to Harry.
Harry stared in disbelief at his stationary relatives, and looked back at Siobhan. "How did--what did you--what happened?" he asked dumbly.
"I stopped time," Siobhan said simply. "Hurry up and eat, the spell doesn't last long."
"Spell? Are you a witch?" Harry asked as he stuffed his mouth with pancake.
"Now, now, no name calling," she smirked. "But if you must know, yes, I can perform magic. See, I am from a small magical clan in Ireland which prides itself on being one of the few clans to ever use wandless and thought magic."
"What's thought magic?"
"Well, you know what telekinesis and telepathy are, right?" Harry nodded. "Right, well," Siobhan continued, "It's like that. You think of a spell you want to do, and you perform it. No wands, no incantations."
"That sounds hard," Harry said uncommitedly, trying to act as uninterested as possible.
"Believe me, it takes years of study. I started training when I was five years old, and I'm still learning. But it conflicts with my Auror training."
"What? You're an Auror?" Harry asked, finishing up his food. "So the detective thing is a crock, is it? What are you really here for?"
"Well, I suppose I'm here to protect you," Siobhan shrugged. "And you look like you really need it, too, look at the state you're in."
Harry got very angry in the span of two seconds. "DID THAT PRAT DUMBLEDORE SEND YOU?!" he yelled. "AM I GOING TO BE TREATED LIKE A LITTLE CHILD JUST LIKE LAST SUMMER? HAVING PEOPLE FOLLOW ME AROUND AND SPY ON ME? OH, THIS IS BLOODY UNBELIEVABLE!!!"
Harry's outburst didn't seem to faze Siobhan. "I know, that's exactly what I told Dumbledore," she said.
Harry narrowed his eyes at Siobhan. "What?"
"Don't worry Harry, no one from the Order is sneaking around trying to keep an eye on you now. But Arabella Figg is off on vacation in Jamaica, and he sent me. However, he didn't warn me against any teenage angst," Siobhan said, casting an amused look at Harry.
"Well, I have a lot to be upset about," Harry mumbled.
Sinead smiled. "I know you do, Harry. You've had to deal with many distressing things at a very young age. And I'm sorry about Sirius," she said.
Harry snapped his head up to look at her. "What?" he asked. "Did, did you know--?"
Suddenly, the Durleys went back into motion, unaware that they had been frozen. "Ah, Siobhan, you finished your pancakes!" Aunt Petunia trilled. "Would you like any more?"
"Oh, no thank you, Petunia. I'm very full. I think I'm going to go get settled in my room, if that's all right," Siobhan replied.
"Oh yes, of course," Aunt Petunia said, and she gathered Siobhan's dirty dishes. Siobhan rose from her chair, and with a little wink at Harry, she left the kitchen. Dudley avidly stared after her. Uncle Vernon chuckled and nudged Dudley with his elbow. "You fancy her then, eh, Dudley?" he asked. Dudley turned pinker and shrugged. "I dunno," he said quietly, looking up at Harry and narrowing his eyes dangerously.
Harry, disgusted at the prospect of Dudley having a crush, marched swiftly out of the kitchen. He saw the pile of letters near the front door, and he looked through them. Bills, bills, postcard from Aunt Marge, bills, bills, and a letter to his aunt and uncle from Dudley's school. Probably for threatening little children again, Harry thought grimly. He tossed the post back onto the floor and proceeded up the stairs. He had gotten a letter from Dumbledore earlier in the summer. Dear Harry, it began, I want to take this opportunity to send you my deepest apologies. I fear I have caused you more heartbreak than anyone could ever have in a dozen lifetimes. You have every right to hate me, of course, but just know that there are still many people who love and care about you.
Harry knew that people loved him, of course; however, it didn't stop him from hating Dumbledore, for blaming himself, for getting angry all the time. Didn't it?
Harry got to the door of his room, and paused. He looked down the hall toward the guest bedroom, where he could hear faint voices. He walked slowly down the hall until he was facing the door of the guest bedroom. The sounds had stopped. He hesitated, then knocked briskly on the wooden door.
"Come in," a voice called. Harry turned the knob and pushed the door open. Siobhan was unpacking her stuff from a bag on the bed. "Oh, hey, Harry, what's up?" she asked. Before Harry could answer, a bag on the floor next to him erupted red smoke. Harry, taken aback, tripped backwards and fell on the floor. "Wh-what was that?" Harry gasped.
"A warning," Siobhan said quietly. She went to the bag on the floor and pulled out a bronze device. At first glance, Harry thought it looked like a compass; it was round and small, but then he could see that there were three hands on it, and different symbols were printed all around like numbers on a clock. On the outside of the device, there were three knobs positioned on it like a tripod. Siobhan turned these knobs each halfway around, and twiddled around with the hands, pointing them to different symbols. "Hmm," she said, and put the device back. She got up, went to the window, and peered out of it, looking all directions.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
Siobhan turned back to Harry, and smiled. "Voldemort sure is fast," she said.
Of all the responses Harry could have imagined, this was the one he never would have thought of. "What?" he asked.
"He's sent his minions to spy on you already," Siobhan answered. "I can tell they're here. They probably know I'm here, too. Damn," she muttered, "I might not be able to go to London, then..."
Harry was bursting with questions. "Are you part of the Ord--?"
"Harry," Siobhan interrupted quickly, "would you please tell your aunt that I need a map of Surrey as soon as possible?"
"Sure," said Harry, a bit disappointed. He went downstairs to the kitchen, where Aunt Petunia was busy washing dishes. "Aunt Petunia?" he asked.
"Ehh," was the response.
"Ms. O'Connor wanted me to ask you for a map of Surrey."
Aunt Petunia didn't answer; instead, she kept washing dishes for a few good minutes. Then, after turning off the water, she turned around to face Harry. "I'll get it to her," she said, leaving the kitchen. Harry heard her go into the living room and ask, "Vernon, where are the maps?"
Harry left the kitchen as well and went up the stairs, heading to his room. He was tired already, though it was only 10:00 in the morning, and he was ready to go to sleep. But when he entered his room, he saw Siobhan crouched at his window, peering out of them with a pair of Omnioculars.
"Er--what are you doing?" he asked.
Siobhan turned around briefly. "Hello, Harry. I'm trying to figure out how many people are spying around here, and where exactly they're hidden." She looked to a different spot with the Omnioculars. "Aha--there's one of them. Want to see, Harry?"
Harry hesitated. "Er, I don't know..." he began.
"Are you worried?" Siobhan asked kindly. "It's okay, I rigged some wards around this house--they won't be able to see us. They can't come in here because of the protection your mother gave you, and as long as you're here, they can't harm you." Siobhan smiled. "What do you say, boyo? Want a look?"
Harry took a deep breath and walked slowly toward the window. He knelt down and took a tentative look out of the window. "Now," Siobhan said, and handed him the Omnioculars, "take a look at that hedge next door. You see how it's sort of shimmering? Like a mirage?"
"Yeah," said Harry, looking through the Omnioculars. "I see it."
"Well, that's a person in it. Must have used a Morphing Charm."
"A Morphing Charm? Isn't that when you hide in an object?"
"Yes and no. It's a very useful hiding tool. To use it, one must pick an inanimate object. When performed correctly, the charm will allow you to become part of it temporarily, so you can basically hide within it. But when you look through these," Siobhan indicated the Omnioculars, "you can see if someone is using magic to conceal themselves."
"Omnioculars can do that?" Harry said, bewildered.
"Omnioculars? These? No way! These are Spy-Focals. Used in Auror training, but really very useful for anyone."
Harry was entranced with the Spy-Focals and wanted to use them more, but Siobhan took them and stood up. "I'll see you later, Harry," she said. "Maybe not even until tomorrow, if things work out as planned." She walked over to the door and paused, turning around. She stared intently at Harry. "You know," she said, "I admire you. Not because of who you are, but because of what you've been through, and how you've dealt with it. I know it's hard now, but hopefully later you'll realise that you are the luckiest person in the history of the world." She winked and left the room.
Harry looked at the closed door to his room, thinking about what she said. In the hallway, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. "You wanted a map of Surrey, is that right, Ms. O'Connor?" Aunt Petunia said.
"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Dursley. By the way, I'm very sorry, but I've been called in on business and I must leave for London right away."
"Oh, very well. How are you getting there?"
"I've got a ride. I'll be back sometime tomorrow."
Harry couldn't hear what they were saying anymore, because they had started using quieter voices. Harry went to his bed and flopped on his backside. From across the room, Hedwig hooted. Harry looked over at her. "It's been an odd day, Hedwig," he said, and he rolled over and promptly fell asleep.
Well, that was the first chapter. I don't know when the second one will be out (considering that I haven't written it yet... ^^;;) Questions? Comments? I would love some reviews, please and thank you. ~T*H~