Title: Come What May
Author: DuchessAndromeda
Rating: Pg-13
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to J.K.Rowling and various other people that I don't know. No infringement is intended.
Summary: All Harry wants is to be normal, but what we want and what we need are sometimes two very different things. Sometimes it takes an extreme act to get either.
Author's Notes: This story is just writing itself, as every time I try to make an outline, it tends to be discarded. Special thanks goes out to my one reviewer, Wiccan PussyKat. I am honored to know that I am on your favorite list, and hope that this chapter lives up to your expectations.
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~Chapter 1~
It wasn't as if no one knew what went on behind the closed doors of number four, Privet Drive. After five years of boarding school and dorm room living, it would be impossible to hide the little signs, if not the big ones. Scars could be hidden. Broken bones and sprained muscles could be compensated for. But the little things, being unable to sleep in a bed so large, the way black circles perpetually hovered around Harry's eyes, the way he would jump if someone touched his shoulder. With time, these things could be corrected, but if there was one thing that Harry didn't have other than a loving family, it was time.
Harry Potter was dying.
Order Headquarters: Twelve Grimmauld Place, London
Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasely were worried. While it was true that Hermione was often worried about one thing or another, on subjects that ranged from House Elf freedom, to whether all the extra studying she was doing would be enough for the up coming school year, Ron was the exact opposite. In fact, most people would have been hard pressed to come up with a subject that Ron Weasley would worry about, but when they finally did, they would all agree. Ron Weasely would always worry about Harry Potter. Having grown up in a large family, Ron knew what normal behavior was and what wasn't. Even if he was generally considered clueless, he was still the youngest of the male Weaselys, and he had paid close attention to what his older brothers had done while growing up. Similarly, Ron had also observed the little things that Harry had done. Possessing a great analytical mind, and able to come up with chess strategies at a moments notice, Ron was constantly looking at the little things that happened around him, and to those of which he considered friends.
Hermione was considered the greatest witch of her age, and spent so much time researching that she knew the value of a single word. Entire essays and tombs of knowledge had been deemed worthless by one ill-placed word, or ill-managed sentence. Attention to detail was always one of her strong suits, and she had been paying attention since she could remember. But Harry… was different.
It had finally gotten to the point that Hermione had to bring in someone else to voice her suspicions to. Ron was the only other person that she could come up with that Harry might not be upset about her telling, so Ron Weasely was the one she told. And she was never so happy, and sad, that she had.
With Ron's inner knowledge of the boy's dorm, and Hermione's ability to take the smallest thing and use it to make a large picture, they were slowly able to piece together part of the puzzle that was Harry Potter.
It didn't happen all at once, but then, most things never do. In stolen moments under the stairs, or in a room that the others would soon clean, Ron and Hermione painstakingly went back over their years at Hogwarts to find any and everything concerning Harry. Late at night, Hermione would sneak into Ron's room to continue their earlier discussions, but they were wary, for in the Order Headquarters, there was always someone awake.
In the end, they had half of the puzzle, and a lot of worry. Armed with what they had gleaned, they prepared to confront the Order. One thing was for sure, Dumbledore had hell to pay.
Order Headquarters, the Kitchen, Wednesday night's Order meeting
The inside of the kitchen was crowded. People of all ages were gathered there to discuss what they could do in the war against Voldemort. The kitchen table was taken up by the main members; that is to say Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Alastor Moody, and Mundungus Fletcher. Around them were the oldest Weasely children (minus Percy), some Aurors, Professors, and various other people that had either been involved in the last war, or were recruited by the others. While the meeting hadn't officially started yet, it was generally understood that the children in the household would stay away from the kitchen during this time - which is partly why it was such a shock to see Ron and Hermione walk into the kitchen during this chaotic scene. The other reason that their presence was shocking was the waves of fury they were emitting. Unconsciously, the people closest to them shifted backwards, running into others and generally creating a small domino effect. The first to recover was, of course, Ron's mother.
"Ronald Weasely! You know that this is the Order meeting for Members only, and as such I expect you to turn around and march back up to your room right now! And Hermione! I had expected better from you! For over a year now we have been doing this, one would hope that you would know the rules and be able to follow them by now! Be glad that we weren't discussing anything serious or we might have had to memory charm you two! Is that what you want?" The rest of Mrs. Weasely's tirade was cut off by a glare from her youngest son.
"We're here to talk about Harry." Hermione's voice was colder than any had ever heard it, but there was not mistaking the absolute fury behind her words.
"Whatever it is that Mr. Potter has managed to do to make you so upset, I highly doubt that it is of any interest or important to the Order as a whole. Perhaps if you took it up with Lupin after the meeting, then the rest of us could get back to our meeting." The unspoken, "and stop wasting our time", hung in the air. Snape's customary sneer was in place as he looked down his long nose at the teenagers.
"So, Hermione, the Boy-Who-Lived could be dying and the Order doesn't care? Of course, how silly of us to think otherwise. Snape is right, I mean, why on earth would the possible demise of the one person who has defeated Voldemort possibly be of concern to the Order as a whole? Particularly while many of them know him personally and seem unduly concerned when he has a paper cut?" Ron's voice was bitting and filled with no little bit of sarcasm as he turned to Hermione. She also turned to face him, as if they were the only two in the room.
"But Ronald dear, they haven't been very concerned about him for at least a year. And in fact, it is arguable if they ever truly were concerned with him, or with his name. After all, the Order is comprised of adults and everyone knows that only adults are able to fight Voldemort. Never mind the fact that it is generally a group of students who uncover and set in motion the plans for dealing with whatever evil entity is threatening Hogwarts every year. After all, the adults have it all under control. Come, let us owl the rest of the D.A. I'm sure with our combined resources that we might be able to save him in time, even if we are forbidden to use magic during the summer." Her cutting tones, combined with both of their uses of You-Know-Who's name effectively set most of the Order back. The rest of their conversation piqued the interest of every one, except for Snape. (But then, he refused to admit being interested in anything other than his potions). As the teenagers turned to leave, Dumbledore called them back.
"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasely, please come back. I assure you that we do indeed care about Harry and would be happy to discuss this now. That is, if you think that it would be prudent for us to do so instead of immediately setting out to save him?" Dumbledore's twinkle was dimmed, and an unspoken challenge lingered in the blue depths of his eyes.
Together Ron and Hemione turned back to face the Order, sharing a glace that conveyed more than words. It was Hermione who took the initiative.
"How much do you know of Harry's home life, Professors?" Whatever Dumbledore had been expecting, it wasn't that.
"After his parents died, I placed Harry with his last living blood relatives. They lived in a normal muggle home, in a normal neighborhood. At the time, their family consisted of his Aunt, Uncle, and a cousin about his age, although they could have had more children after this. He has lived with them ever since and although he never seems to want to go back to them, I assume that he is treated well." McGonagall gave Dumbledore a look before saying her part.
"They seemed to be the worst sort of muggles when I looked at them for a day, but as I have never seen or heard of any proof, I too must believe that they are treating him well." Most of the other professors expressed similar views, and well as the order members who had actually met Harry. The last to speak was Professor Snape, and he seemed strangely hesitant to do so.
"While Potter has displayed very few signs of abuse, while teaching him Occlumency last term, I came across some… disturbing memories. A boy I assume must be his cousin chasing him with a stick. A dog barking up him while he sat up in a tree. A small, dark room that must be a closet of some kind."
"I have to give the guy his due, he's good. Too good." Ron murmured his agreement to Hermione's statement, shaking his head in bafflement.
"On the contrary, Potter displayed absolutely no aptitude for Occlumency." Hermione gave the Professor a pitying look.
"By the end of this session, you may think that he knew more than you have given him credit for." Snape bristled and prepared to give a scathing retort, but was cut off by Ron.
"I first met Harry on the train going to Hogwarts. He was dressed in baggy clothes that had obviously seen better days. Being the youngest male in such a large family, I knew all about hand-me downs and thought that he was just like me. It made me feel better that the Boy-who-lived was poor too. Then he took out a money pouch and bought all kinds of treats off of the cart. He didn't seem to be stuck-up or obnoxious, and was actually rather kind to my tactless questions about his scar. It was shortly after all of this that our compartment was entered by Malfoy and his gang. After insulting me, Malfoy offered his hand in friendship to Harry. And, if Malfoy hadn't just insulted me, Harry might well have taken it. Instead, he refused, and cemented my devotion to him. At the time, I hadn't realized how dangerous and trying that devotion would be." Ron looked down, anger displaced by sorrow, and Hermione took up the story.
"They saved me from a troll that year, and so I was added to their group. Despite his fame, that group has still basically remained the three of us. Through the years, there were numerous little things that occurred mainly after arriving at school. Using one hand more than the other, getting up before even me, a look of pain when one of us would clap him on the back, getting tired early in the evening. By themselves, they aren't much, but coupled with Harry's reluctance to talk about his family, his begging to stay with Ron during summer break and absolute refusal to go home during Christmas, it begins to paint a different picture." By this point, Ron had recovered enough to continue, while some of the more worldly Order members began to get a speculative gleam in their eyes.
"During the summer before second year, I had written many letters to Harry asking him to come and visit. He had seemed very excited about it when I had mentioned the possibility earlier, and I couldn't understand why he didn't at least write back to say that he wasn't interested. With the help of Fred and George, I set off to go and see him. When we arrived at his 'perfectly normal muggle home', there were bars on his window. Bars that were so closely fitted that he could barely stick his hand out, let alone let an owl in. And as Harry was so very small, his hands should have been able to fit almost anywhere. We tore the bars off his window, and the twins went downstairs to unlock the cupboard where his trunk was being held. There were locks on his door, and a cat flap closer to the ground where a tray of moldy food sat. Hedwig was very skinny and her cage was also locked. As we were getting ready to leave, Harry's uncle awoke, and burst into the room. Seeing what was happening, he grabbed a hold of Harry's ankle and tried his best to pull him back into the house, screaming something about freakishness. We escaped then, and whenever the subject of how we had found him came up, he just turned his head away and changed the subject."
"At the end of Harry's third year, he met the escaped criminal Sirius Black. After being prepared to hex him if he tried to harm Ron or I any more than he already had, Harry agreed to move in with him. He was beaming, as if living with an escaped convict would be the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Looking back, I think it was."