Disclaimer: sadly, I do not claim any rights to harry potter, I wish I
could b/c its all so amazing, but he, along with everything about him,
belongs to a wonderful women named J.K. Rowling. JKR rocks for writing
Harry Potter...I don't know where I would be without that skinny brown headed
boy who has taught me so much (sry for sounding gay)! I think I speak for
everyone when I say, WE LOVE YOU J.K. ROWLING!!!!!
Ooo...and if harry dies at the end of the the 7th book (which I seriously hope he doesn't b/c I will cry) then I hope she names the last chapter the boy who lived...I hope I hope I hope...that would be so good...that would be like pimped out...u know like the boy who livED...that would be like the saddest, yet best thing ever...
CHAPTER 2: Secrets
The next two weeks past so slowly that Harry believed they were never going to end. On the Saturday before the last week the summer holidays, Harry received his list. Besides having no idea about how he was going to get his things, he was starting to worry about how he was going to get to school. He hadn't ever thought about it before. Hagrid, the school's game keeper, had gotten him on his first year, Ron and his twin brothers Fred and George had rescued him from imprisonment with their father's car before second year, third year he had run away and got to stay in the Leaky Cauldron, fourth year was the Quidditch cup, and fifth year he had gotten to stay with Sirius and the others. But now, he was stuck. Who was going to come and get him now? He told himself that Dumbledore and the Weasleys had probably worked something out as a late birthday surprise. The Birthday letters he had gotten from Ron, Hermione and Hagrid were all very shady and to say the least, Harry was surprised that they even remembered. Ron had gotten him Quidditch Through the Ages and Hermione had sent him a copy of Hogwarts, A History. No doubt she thought he might do well with some reading. Hagrid, however, hadn't gotten him anything. He wrote him a letter on a small piece of parchment saying that he missed him and that he hoped he had a safe and happy birthday with the muggles. Altogether it wasn't the best birthday he had ever gotten, but it definitely wasn't the worst.
Harry went into the living room to find Dudley hunched over on the couch near to tears. Harry had always been happy when Dudley suffered because of how horrible Dudley had always treated him, but now he only felt sorry for the whale.
"Dudley, whats the matter with you?" Harry asked while trying not to sound too concerned.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Dudley shrieked.
"Sorry, I was just trying to help you," Harry replied, quite angry for being yelled at so soon.
"Mum is making me go to fat camp..." He wheezed.
"Oh, well you might have fun. I hear that they have games and water slides and everything," comforted a highly amused Harry.
"Yeah, well I don't want to go. It will be embarrassing to tell Piers that I have to go away because my mum thinks I'm too fat. God..." he said. He sounded very depressed.
"Well, I'm sorry," Harry said.
"NO YOUR NOT! YOU PROBABLY THINK ITS HILARIOUS INSIDE." Dudley screamed and tottered off.
Harry made his way back up to his room thinking that he shouldn't have tried to be nice at all, even though Dudley was partially right. Moments later Uncle Vernon had appeared at Harry's door looking so furious that even his eyes were popping.
"How dare you make fun of Dudley!" he bellowed.
"I—I wasn't. I didn't." Harry gasped.
"He has just been to see me saying that you were laughing at him because of the camp he's going to! How dare you make my son cry!" he hollered.
"No...I didn't laugh at him, but if he thinks that lying to you is going to get me in trouble then I'm sorry, but it isn't going to work." Harry yelled back. He was so angry he felt his fists clenching and his heart pounding.
"You boy, will not talk to me like that!" Uncle Vernon commanded.
"And you, you fat....old....horrible--" but he never finished because he went flying at Uncle Vernon with an incredible force and a will to hurt him. Uncle Vernon, who was a big man and about 4 times Harry's size and weight, didn't really budge by Harry's action, but instead just gaped at him like he was Harry had gone mad. Harry stood as still as a statue pondering on what he had just done. 15 years of built up frustration with the Dursleys had just made him blow up, but without using magic. He had actually ran at Uncle Vernon with the intention of hurting him. He knew that he was in for it.
"I've been wanting to do this for a long time, boy--" then he started to unbuckle his belt. His voice was going hoarse, and his whole body was shaking furiously.
"Vernon, STOP!" came a stern voice from behind Uncle Vernon. It was Aunt Petunia.
"Vernon, there's something that we need to talk about. Put your belt back on and control yourself." she ordered. She looked as if she was ready and willing to shoot him in the head.
"Pe—Petu—Petunia?" Uncle Vernon sputtered.
"Get in the kitchen and sit down," she said. Uncle Vernon looked very green in the face.
"Vernon," she started while shutting the kitchen door behind her so that neither Dudley not Harry could see. "We have to protect this boy. I know that their kind isn't really high on your charts, and they aren't on mine either. But we can't just let him die. Imagine how you would feel if you found out that he ran away and was murdered? Even if we don't like him, it's our responsibility to watch over him. We are his guardians," Aunt Petunia argued. Uncle Vernon nodded occasionally especially around the "Even if we don't like him" part. His scowl eventually dulled and he went to go sit down to watch television. Once Uncle Vernon had thought about it long enough, he decided that he would leave Harry alone and let him be for the rest of his stay at Privet Drive. Harry had heard enough and decided to go upstairs and finish his homework.
For the last couple of days before starting term he read the books that he had gotten for his birthday. Mostly, Quidditch Through the Ages, because he wasn't very interested in Hogwarts, A History. He knew Hermione would get aggravated with him when he would say something that was contradicted by the book, but he didn't care. He just wished he could go to school now. It was then, in that small little thought, that he decided he was leaving. Right then and there he was going to get his things and go. Harry gathered everything he needed from around his room. He went downstairs and told Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon that he would be going on the Knight bus and would stay somewhere else for the rest of the holiday. After much insisting on Harry's part, they allowed him to go. So he got all of his things, walked outside and as the sun set on the suburban street, he stuck out his wand hand and hurried to hop out of the way as the gigantic purple bus almost ran him over. He pulled out his money bag and got ready for Stan to open the door but instead there was another person, a girl. Fleur Delacour was standing right in front of him. She was the new Knight bus attendant. At the sight of Harry she seemed to gasp. Then she got control of herself and spoke.
"Welcome to 'zee Knight bus. For 14 zickles you can get zome 'ot chocolate and for 15 you can get a toothbrush and an 'ot water bottle."
"Fleur, Its me, Harry-- from the Triwizard Tournament," he said to her while shoving the money into her hand.
"I know," she said looking rather surprised. Harry hopped on the bus found a bed, put his luggage down beside it, and practically fell into it. He closed his eyes and found himself drifting off into the best sleep he had ever had; a Dursley free one.
About 2 hours later Fleur woke him up. Harry hadn't realized that he never told her where he was planning on going, and frankly, he didn't really know. He decided on waiting until all the passengers had left until he would decide.
"How 'as your summer been?" Fleur asked out of the blue.
"Couldn't have been better," Harry lied. "Are you and Bill still in touch?" Harry inquired. It was the only common subject besides the Triwizard Tournament that Harry could think of.
"Well, we still talk zometimes," she blushed, "But, he 'as been so busy with his job, 'zat I haven't really talked to him lately," she concluded.
After seeing person to person step off the bus, Harry determined that he would go to the Leaky Cauldron and live there for the next couple of days so he could get his things for school and see Ron and Hermione, too. This was going to be fun.
So, this was Fleur's job to improve her English. He thought. It surely would improve her people skills, too. He silently sniggered at his comment and noticed that it had been his first in a long time. At the Dursley's he hadn't laughed at all, maybe thought about it once or twice, but never really did it. This had been the best time he had had all summer holiday, and on any normal occasion it would have been tremendously boring.
Around 11:00pm they arrived in London. Harry was reaching for his bags when someone spoke to him.
"She will be killed, along with all who try to save her," the shady voice said with such contempt that Harry hadn't realized what it was talking about. He turned around slowly.
"Excuse me?" Harry asked. He spun around and examined the empty beds behind him. No one was there.
"Isn't 'zis your stop?" asked Fleur.
"Um...Yea, thanks." he replied. Harry looked around him. The smell of the city air was something Harry hadn't inhaled in forever it seemed like. He missed the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. He missed magic all together.
As he stepped off the stairs, he waved to Fleur. He entered the threshold of the Leaky Cauldron only to meet a disgruntled Tom breaking up a bar fight.
"Hello Tom," Harry said.
"Harry!," Tom replied while managing to keep hold of the two men who were fighting. "How splendid to see you!"As he said this he jumped out from behind the bar to properly greet Harry, and shook his hand.
"What are you doing here?" Tom asked seemingly back in reality.
"Well, I came here to stay for the rest of the holidays," Harry sighed. "I've got to get my things for school any ways. Do you suppose you might a have a room--" but he was cut off but a sudden boom at the door. Tom and Harry both froze as a tall, dark, hooded figure made his way into the small bar. Although he was alone, he gave everyone the distinct feeling that being out numbered wouldn't have kept him from destroying the whole place. Now, the whole bar was quiet as the figure sat down. Tom left Harry to go greet the new customer.
"What can I get for you today, sir?" Tom politely inquired.
"Mead," grunted a deep, scratchy voice from under the hood. It sounded so familiar, yet Harry just couldn't figure how who it was. The head of the hooded person shot towards Harry who was standing all alone off to the corner where the fireplace was. The only visible things under the hood were two miraculous blue eyes. Then the figures head turned back to Tom, who was handing him his drink.
"That'll be seven sickles," Tom said.
The hooded man pulled out a blue velvet pouch and handed Tom seven silver coins. When the man finished his drink he got up and left, leaving the bar in an utter silence.
Harry's mind was racing and searching for an answer when Tom approached him again.
"What about that room, eh, lad?" Tom asked.
"Oh, yes." Harry paused. "Do you know who that man was?" Harry interrogated.
As if answering too fast, Tom replied, "No, I don't. Never seen 'em before. Now, lets find you a room!" he chuckled.
Harry grabbed his trunk and broom and followed Tom down a corridor and up two flights of stairs.
"All right, 'ere ya go. Room 21. If you need anything lemme know. Good night lad."
The whole thing was horribly simple. Harry had thought that Tom would interrogate him. Was there something else that Harry didn't know about? If there was something Harry hated, it was that people were always keeping secrets from him. Everyone, not counting Draco Malfoy, or Severus Snape, was overly polite to him when matters weren't so good. Bur his mind was so tired, that his thoughts just drifted away after a little while.
That night Harry slept soundlessly. His nap on the Knight Bus was great, but nothing compared to this. No scar-searing dreams like on Privet Drive, or sleepless hours filled with thoughts of Sirius and school. Just a normal nights sleep; something he, Harry, had truly forgotten.
.
A/N: ok ok...so you may like it, you may not. I try to stay true to JK...since she is the owner of all of this. And I try not to make the dialogue all gay and mary-sue and gary-lew ish (lol...elizabeth) please don't flame it if you don't like it. Im all for constructive criticism but please don't make me cry... : ( ...lol... thank you for reading! Ooo and I WILL leave a lot of cliff hangers...hehehe... :: smiles and laughs evily :: but please do tell me if theres something u don't think is right or is too far fetched and I might change it depending on if I agree lol...thank ya bunches!!
Ooo...and if harry dies at the end of the the 7th book (which I seriously hope he doesn't b/c I will cry) then I hope she names the last chapter the boy who lived...I hope I hope I hope...that would be so good...that would be like pimped out...u know like the boy who livED...that would be like the saddest, yet best thing ever...
CHAPTER 2: Secrets
The next two weeks past so slowly that Harry believed they were never going to end. On the Saturday before the last week the summer holidays, Harry received his list. Besides having no idea about how he was going to get his things, he was starting to worry about how he was going to get to school. He hadn't ever thought about it before. Hagrid, the school's game keeper, had gotten him on his first year, Ron and his twin brothers Fred and George had rescued him from imprisonment with their father's car before second year, third year he had run away and got to stay in the Leaky Cauldron, fourth year was the Quidditch cup, and fifth year he had gotten to stay with Sirius and the others. But now, he was stuck. Who was going to come and get him now? He told himself that Dumbledore and the Weasleys had probably worked something out as a late birthday surprise. The Birthday letters he had gotten from Ron, Hermione and Hagrid were all very shady and to say the least, Harry was surprised that they even remembered. Ron had gotten him Quidditch Through the Ages and Hermione had sent him a copy of Hogwarts, A History. No doubt she thought he might do well with some reading. Hagrid, however, hadn't gotten him anything. He wrote him a letter on a small piece of parchment saying that he missed him and that he hoped he had a safe and happy birthday with the muggles. Altogether it wasn't the best birthday he had ever gotten, but it definitely wasn't the worst.
Harry went into the living room to find Dudley hunched over on the couch near to tears. Harry had always been happy when Dudley suffered because of how horrible Dudley had always treated him, but now he only felt sorry for the whale.
"Dudley, whats the matter with you?" Harry asked while trying not to sound too concerned.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Dudley shrieked.
"Sorry, I was just trying to help you," Harry replied, quite angry for being yelled at so soon.
"Mum is making me go to fat camp..." He wheezed.
"Oh, well you might have fun. I hear that they have games and water slides and everything," comforted a highly amused Harry.
"Yeah, well I don't want to go. It will be embarrassing to tell Piers that I have to go away because my mum thinks I'm too fat. God..." he said. He sounded very depressed.
"Well, I'm sorry," Harry said.
"NO YOUR NOT! YOU PROBABLY THINK ITS HILARIOUS INSIDE." Dudley screamed and tottered off.
Harry made his way back up to his room thinking that he shouldn't have tried to be nice at all, even though Dudley was partially right. Moments later Uncle Vernon had appeared at Harry's door looking so furious that even his eyes were popping.
"How dare you make fun of Dudley!" he bellowed.
"I—I wasn't. I didn't." Harry gasped.
"He has just been to see me saying that you were laughing at him because of the camp he's going to! How dare you make my son cry!" he hollered.
"No...I didn't laugh at him, but if he thinks that lying to you is going to get me in trouble then I'm sorry, but it isn't going to work." Harry yelled back. He was so angry he felt his fists clenching and his heart pounding.
"You boy, will not talk to me like that!" Uncle Vernon commanded.
"And you, you fat....old....horrible--" but he never finished because he went flying at Uncle Vernon with an incredible force and a will to hurt him. Uncle Vernon, who was a big man and about 4 times Harry's size and weight, didn't really budge by Harry's action, but instead just gaped at him like he was Harry had gone mad. Harry stood as still as a statue pondering on what he had just done. 15 years of built up frustration with the Dursleys had just made him blow up, but without using magic. He had actually ran at Uncle Vernon with the intention of hurting him. He knew that he was in for it.
"I've been wanting to do this for a long time, boy--" then he started to unbuckle his belt. His voice was going hoarse, and his whole body was shaking furiously.
"Vernon, STOP!" came a stern voice from behind Uncle Vernon. It was Aunt Petunia.
"Vernon, there's something that we need to talk about. Put your belt back on and control yourself." she ordered. She looked as if she was ready and willing to shoot him in the head.
"Pe—Petu—Petunia?" Uncle Vernon sputtered.
"Get in the kitchen and sit down," she said. Uncle Vernon looked very green in the face.
"Vernon," she started while shutting the kitchen door behind her so that neither Dudley not Harry could see. "We have to protect this boy. I know that their kind isn't really high on your charts, and they aren't on mine either. But we can't just let him die. Imagine how you would feel if you found out that he ran away and was murdered? Even if we don't like him, it's our responsibility to watch over him. We are his guardians," Aunt Petunia argued. Uncle Vernon nodded occasionally especially around the "Even if we don't like him" part. His scowl eventually dulled and he went to go sit down to watch television. Once Uncle Vernon had thought about it long enough, he decided that he would leave Harry alone and let him be for the rest of his stay at Privet Drive. Harry had heard enough and decided to go upstairs and finish his homework.
For the last couple of days before starting term he read the books that he had gotten for his birthday. Mostly, Quidditch Through the Ages, because he wasn't very interested in Hogwarts, A History. He knew Hermione would get aggravated with him when he would say something that was contradicted by the book, but he didn't care. He just wished he could go to school now. It was then, in that small little thought, that he decided he was leaving. Right then and there he was going to get his things and go. Harry gathered everything he needed from around his room. He went downstairs and told Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon that he would be going on the Knight bus and would stay somewhere else for the rest of the holiday. After much insisting on Harry's part, they allowed him to go. So he got all of his things, walked outside and as the sun set on the suburban street, he stuck out his wand hand and hurried to hop out of the way as the gigantic purple bus almost ran him over. He pulled out his money bag and got ready for Stan to open the door but instead there was another person, a girl. Fleur Delacour was standing right in front of him. She was the new Knight bus attendant. At the sight of Harry she seemed to gasp. Then she got control of herself and spoke.
"Welcome to 'zee Knight bus. For 14 zickles you can get zome 'ot chocolate and for 15 you can get a toothbrush and an 'ot water bottle."
"Fleur, Its me, Harry-- from the Triwizard Tournament," he said to her while shoving the money into her hand.
"I know," she said looking rather surprised. Harry hopped on the bus found a bed, put his luggage down beside it, and practically fell into it. He closed his eyes and found himself drifting off into the best sleep he had ever had; a Dursley free one.
About 2 hours later Fleur woke him up. Harry hadn't realized that he never told her where he was planning on going, and frankly, he didn't really know. He decided on waiting until all the passengers had left until he would decide.
"How 'as your summer been?" Fleur asked out of the blue.
"Couldn't have been better," Harry lied. "Are you and Bill still in touch?" Harry inquired. It was the only common subject besides the Triwizard Tournament that Harry could think of.
"Well, we still talk zometimes," she blushed, "But, he 'as been so busy with his job, 'zat I haven't really talked to him lately," she concluded.
After seeing person to person step off the bus, Harry determined that he would go to the Leaky Cauldron and live there for the next couple of days so he could get his things for school and see Ron and Hermione, too. This was going to be fun.
So, this was Fleur's job to improve her English. He thought. It surely would improve her people skills, too. He silently sniggered at his comment and noticed that it had been his first in a long time. At the Dursley's he hadn't laughed at all, maybe thought about it once or twice, but never really did it. This had been the best time he had had all summer holiday, and on any normal occasion it would have been tremendously boring.
Around 11:00pm they arrived in London. Harry was reaching for his bags when someone spoke to him.
"She will be killed, along with all who try to save her," the shady voice said with such contempt that Harry hadn't realized what it was talking about. He turned around slowly.
"Excuse me?" Harry asked. He spun around and examined the empty beds behind him. No one was there.
"Isn't 'zis your stop?" asked Fleur.
"Um...Yea, thanks." he replied. Harry looked around him. The smell of the city air was something Harry hadn't inhaled in forever it seemed like. He missed the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. He missed magic all together.
As he stepped off the stairs, he waved to Fleur. He entered the threshold of the Leaky Cauldron only to meet a disgruntled Tom breaking up a bar fight.
"Hello Tom," Harry said.
"Harry!," Tom replied while managing to keep hold of the two men who were fighting. "How splendid to see you!"As he said this he jumped out from behind the bar to properly greet Harry, and shook his hand.
"What are you doing here?" Tom asked seemingly back in reality.
"Well, I came here to stay for the rest of the holidays," Harry sighed. "I've got to get my things for school any ways. Do you suppose you might a have a room--" but he was cut off but a sudden boom at the door. Tom and Harry both froze as a tall, dark, hooded figure made his way into the small bar. Although he was alone, he gave everyone the distinct feeling that being out numbered wouldn't have kept him from destroying the whole place. Now, the whole bar was quiet as the figure sat down. Tom left Harry to go greet the new customer.
"What can I get for you today, sir?" Tom politely inquired.
"Mead," grunted a deep, scratchy voice from under the hood. It sounded so familiar, yet Harry just couldn't figure how who it was. The head of the hooded person shot towards Harry who was standing all alone off to the corner where the fireplace was. The only visible things under the hood were two miraculous blue eyes. Then the figures head turned back to Tom, who was handing him his drink.
"That'll be seven sickles," Tom said.
The hooded man pulled out a blue velvet pouch and handed Tom seven silver coins. When the man finished his drink he got up and left, leaving the bar in an utter silence.
Harry's mind was racing and searching for an answer when Tom approached him again.
"What about that room, eh, lad?" Tom asked.
"Oh, yes." Harry paused. "Do you know who that man was?" Harry interrogated.
As if answering too fast, Tom replied, "No, I don't. Never seen 'em before. Now, lets find you a room!" he chuckled.
Harry grabbed his trunk and broom and followed Tom down a corridor and up two flights of stairs.
"All right, 'ere ya go. Room 21. If you need anything lemme know. Good night lad."
The whole thing was horribly simple. Harry had thought that Tom would interrogate him. Was there something else that Harry didn't know about? If there was something Harry hated, it was that people were always keeping secrets from him. Everyone, not counting Draco Malfoy, or Severus Snape, was overly polite to him when matters weren't so good. Bur his mind was so tired, that his thoughts just drifted away after a little while.
That night Harry slept soundlessly. His nap on the Knight Bus was great, but nothing compared to this. No scar-searing dreams like on Privet Drive, or sleepless hours filled with thoughts of Sirius and school. Just a normal nights sleep; something he, Harry, had truly forgotten.
.
A/N: ok ok...so you may like it, you may not. I try to stay true to JK...since she is the owner of all of this. And I try not to make the dialogue all gay and mary-sue and gary-lew ish (lol...elizabeth) please don't flame it if you don't like it. Im all for constructive criticism but please don't make me cry... : ( ...lol... thank you for reading! Ooo and I WILL leave a lot of cliff hangers...hehehe... :: smiles and laughs evily :: but please do tell me if theres something u don't think is right or is too far fetched and I might change it depending on if I agree lol...thank ya bunches!!