Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Except for Silver. I made her. So she's mine. But everything else is most likely J.K. Rowling's.
Comments: Yay, sequel city!
- - - - - - - - - -
Chapter 1 – Driving Lessons and Diamond Rings
"STOP!" Uncle Vernon roared at the top of his lungs.
Harry slammed on the brakes, which sent Uncle Vernon flying into the dashboard. Harry looked around wildly for the source of the command, half expecting to see a hoard of dementors swarming their way. But then again, Uncle Vernon wouldn't have been able to see them. He glanced at his Uncle, who was sputtering incoherently, nearly purple in the face with what seemed to be rage. Harry couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why.
"Why'd we stop?" he inquired curiously.
"The stop sign! The stop sign!" Uncle Vernon yelled, pointing furiously ahead of them.
Harry looked out, and, sure enough, some forty feet ahead of them a stop sign could be seen.
"I don't think I had to stop right here," he commented.
"Fool boy!" Uncle Vernon raged, "You didn't!"
"Well you told me to!" Harry insisted.
"You weren't going to stop!" Uncle Vernon yelled.
"I was going twenty miles an hour down a neighborhood street – I didn't exactly have to slow down so soon," Harry replied sensibly.
"Well, you didn't look like you saw it," Uncle Vernon replied.
Harry shook his head and turned back to the road. He had realized upon arriving at Pivet Drive and seeing Dudley driving his shiny new Ferrari around that he was, by all accounts, old enough to drive. So, he had put in a letter to Lupin saying how he'd really like to learn but had no means of doing so, and from what he understood, Lupin and Moody had paid the Dursleys a visit while he was out for a walk in the park. He figured the reason Tonks hadn't been accompanying them was because she had been tailing him. He knew that there was somebody on his heels every time he left the house, even to turn on the sprinklers, and it annoyed him greatly that he wasn't able to talk to them, due to the fact that they absolutely refused to reveal themselves to him. He didn't see why such secrecy was needed at all, and often made loud, snide remarks about it when he knew they were listening. He knew, for instance, that they were watching at that very moment – and probably having a good laugh at his expense. Rolling his eyes, he started towards the stop sign once more, at a pace that was very much slower than reasonable. It seemed to satisfy Uncle Vernon, however.
"Do you think we could go out of the neighborhood this time?" Harry asked, making sure not to go above ten miles per hour in his excitement.
"I suppose," Uncle Vernon consented grudgingly, "But I don't want any funny fast stuff."
"Nope," Harry agreed, chuckling silently to himself.
He was at about thirteen miles an hour, and the freedom of public roads was in view when Uncle Vernon suddenly stuck his head out of the passenger seat window.
"Ruddy owls delivering letters in the middle of the day," he grumbled.
Harry jammed on the brakes and stuck his head out the window. A very familiar black owl was soaring back in the direction of the Dursleys. Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed his foot onto the gas pedal and wheeled the car around, causing a terribly loud screeching noise in the process.
"What are you d-aaahhhh!" Uncle Vernon screeched, grabbing onto both sides of the seat for support as Harry skillfully maneuvered around corners at about thirty-five miles per hour.
Harry ignored his uncle's yelling and picked up speed as they came to a flat stretch.
"We're not on the freewaaaayyy," Uncle Vernon yelled as Harry blew sharply around a corner.
"Yeah, if we were on the freeway there'd be less turns," Harry agreed calmly as he turned the last corner, now going at about forty miles per hour.
He turned sharply into the driveway, and was fairly sure that half the time he'd just spent speeding back to the house had been on two wheels. He yanked the keys out of the ignition and threw them at his shaking uncle as he jumped out of the car.
"Esperanza!" he yelled, "Esperanza!"
The owl that had been hovering outside his window did a quick about-face and swooped down towards him. He hovered in front of Harry's face, proudly holding out a letter-bearing leg. Grinning uncontrollably, Harry untied it. It was his second letter from Silver that day – she had sent him one at three in the morning, as well. Of course, she had written it at around midnight the night before, but all the same, it was his second letter from her that day. After the letter was safely in his hands, Harry turned his grinning face to Esperanza.
"Tired?" he asked, "You can have some of Hedwig's water, if you are."
The owl landed on his shoulder in reply. On his other shoulder, a heavy hand forcefully began to shove him towards the door.
"Get. In. The. House," Uncle Vernon growled.
Muttering about 'bloody owls', he attempted to shoo Esperanza off of Harry's shoulder and ended up with a bleeding finger that caused him to howl with pain as the three of them – four, in Harry's opinion, because Silver's letter counted as a person – stumbled into the house. Aunt Petunia and Dudley appeared immediately as they heard Uncle Vernon's anguished cries, which were a bit too over exaggerated for Harry's liking. Once Uncle Vernon had let go of his shoulder, he began to head towards the staircase in hopes of reading his letter, but Aunt Petunia stepped in front of him.
"Not so fast, young man," she said, eyes glittering with anger, "What happened, and what is that...thing...on your shoulder?"
"The thing on my shoulder is an owl," Harry replied, as if he were speaking to a very small child, "And he," he pointed at Uncle Vernon, "tried to hit it, and so it defended itself by pecking at him. Completely his fault."
At the end, he pointed a finger at Uncle Vernon once more and attempted to get past Aunt Petunia, but she refused to budge out of his way. He did a small jig in place as he waited for her to move, longing to run upstairs and tear open his letter. Uncle Vernon retrieved a band-aid from the first aid kit that was in a cupboard in the hallway, and came back purple in the face and huffing, glaring at Harry murderously. Dudley was watching with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
"And what about that stunt you pulled, boy?" Uncle Vernon demanded, "That driving! It was hideous! You drove fifty miles per hour on a residential street!"
Harry was immediately impressed with himself. "Really?" he asked, "I got all the way to fifty?"
Aunt Petunia had her hands clasped over her heart in apparent horror, and Uncle Vernon was shaking with rage. Dudley was having a lot of difficulty suppressing laughter, and stifled snorts were coming from his corner of the hall.
"You're never driving again!" Uncle Vernon yelled at the top of his lungs, "Never!"
"I wouldn't count on that," Harry replied.
Esperanza hooted from his shoulder, which caused the entire Dursley family to jump backwards. Harry wasn't sure if it was from surprise or terror – it looked a mixture of both. They were all glaring at Esperanza with fervent suspicion which Harry found quite amusing. He turned to the owl, which was looking at him expectantly.
"Upstairs, third room to the right," he directed.
Esperanza obediently took off up the flight of stairs, causing Aunt Petunia to shriek shrilly and Dudley to gasp in a rather childlike manner.
"He was thirsty," Harry explained patiently, "And I really need to go upstairs and read my letter, please."
"Who's it from?" Uncle Vernon answered suspiciously.
Harry looked at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement. It wasn't likely that Uncle Vernon knew the names of anybody even remotely associated with the magical world.
"The girl at the train station?" Uncle Vernon pressed.
"Girl?" Dudley echoed interestedly, "What girl?"
"What's it to you?" Harry replied, clutching his letter fiercely and half expecting it to be ripped out of his hands at any moment.
"Aha!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed triumphantly, "It is from the girl, isn't it? What's she, your long-lost sister?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah, I kiss my sister all the time," he answered sarcastically.
"Kiss?" Dudley asked impatiently, "Why would you kiss your sister? You have a sister?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"So she's your...girlfriend," Uncle Vernon gathered.
"Can I just read my letter?" Harry replied impatiently.
Uncle Vernon was staring at him with unreadable emotions on his face – actually, Harry guessed he wasn't really feeling any emotions, just standing there with nothing running through his mind at all. Dudley had to have gotten it from somewhere. Uncle Vernon looked at Aunt Petunia, who hesitantly stepped aside. Harry refrained from giving a whoop as he dashed past them at a full run up the stairs to his room, his letter now probably halfway crushed from being held so tightly.
He burst through the door with a grin on his face. Hedwig was amiably sharing her water with a very thirsty Esperanza. Both animals looked up when he arrived.
"Thanks for bringing it, Esp," he said as he plopped onto his bed, "I mean, Esperanza."
The last time he had called Esperanza 'Esp', the owl had made him chase him around the room for an hour before allowing him to get a hold of Silver's letter. It was not a mistake Harry felt like repeating. Besides, he had waited long enough to open it since it had arrived. He eagerly tore the envelope open and unfolded the letter. The sight of Silver's handwriting made him feel both a skip of his heartbeat and a terrible longing at the same time. He knew that she was writing to him with loving thoughts just by scanning the letter. All the i's were dotted with hearts, and his name was written in beautiful but no doubt painstaking calligraphy.
Harry,
I hope you're doing well since...well, the last few hours. I'm sorry for writing you so late last night without explanation – I couldn't sleep because I was thinking of you, so I just had to write you.
Harry grinned as he thought of the letter she had written him. It was, as Ron would say, "full of disgusting mush", but he had savored every word of it.
Right now I'm sitting in the backyard of Grimmauld Place, watching Charisma run around. It really is a nice backyard, you know, but don't let anyone else know. There are a few places that I want to show you when you get here. They're a bit hidden, since the backyard magically expands, but they're very beautiful. It's a bit like the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, except you don't have to worry about terrible creatures coming and biting your head off at any moment.
Harry couldn't help but think there was a double meaning to her words. Perhaps she was thinking that those 'hidden' places in the backyard would be good for a snog? Or maybe he was just being too hopeful.
I miss you more than ever, Harry, and that's why Esperanza agreed to go and bring you another letter nearly as soon as he had gotten back. He knows. This morning I gave Dumbledore a good yell, and all he could do was chuckle at me. Can you believe it? I'm getting angrier and angrier – he isn't showing any intentions of bringing you home soon. He's even hinted that he's not going to until the last week of vacation! Oh Harry, I don't mean to disappoint you with this news, but just forewarn you so that you're not waiting in vain for something to happen. I'm so sorry, sweetie!
Harry would like to see exactly what would be able to keep him from Apparating to Silver the second he turned seventeen – he didn't think Voldemort himself would be able to, considering how badly he wanted to be with her. On several occasions he had nearly summoned the Knight Bus for a quick visit, but he knew he wouldn't so much as board it before whoever was tailing him dragged him back to the Dursleys.
There is some good news, though! Well...kind of. My trial is going to be held in three days, along with the Malfoys', Lestrange's, and my mother's (oh and most of the other Death Eaters...). Dumbledore says that you can come, since you were a witness to what happened during that battle. He absolutely refuses to let you come home for even a few hours afterwards, but I'm going to convince him to by the time the trial rolls around, I am! I've even convinced Sev (don't tell him I called him that) to ask Dumbledore if you can stay for a while, if not come home altogether.
All in all, I love you and I miss you a lot, and I would keep writing but I hear Dumbledore's voice inside, which means that he's back and I can pester him some more to bring you home.
I love you,
Silver
XOXO (x is for kisses, and o is for hugs, but what's the letter for snogging? Just kidding!)
Harry grinned a bit evilly as he read the last part of her letter, but then realization came crashing down on him as he realized that it looked to be a good long while before he would so much as kiss her again – unless he did it in court, which might or might not help the case along. He reread the letter numerous times, relishing in her neat and loving handwriting. Finally, he rolled off of his bed and sat down at his desk, halfway aware of the two pairs of large owl eyes staring down at him.
He glanced up at his calendar. Eight days until his birthday and he wasn't sure if he would make it. With a sigh, he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. He wondered what to write – he didn't want her worrying about him too much, but she would know if he was lying. He knew she would love it if he wrote about how much he missed her, but he really couldn't figure out how to put it into words. She knew he was no poet, though – or at least he hoped she did.
Silver,
Don't apologize for sending a late letter – don't apologize for sending any letters, ever! Besides, that one you wrote me was quite...mushy. Which is good, of course.
Right now I'm sitting in my room, where I'll probably be for a good long while unless I leave the house completely. You see, I was having "driving lessons" with my uncle, and I saw Esperanza taking a letter to his house, so I kind of sped back. Okay, so I reached fifty miles an hour in a residential neighborhood. But after all, it was your letter!
As far as getting out of this hellhole (excuse my language, darling, have I mentioned lately how much I love you?) is concerned, I'd like to see what'll stop me from coming straight to your side the second I turn seventeen. I'm not planning on staying here a second longer than I have to. Besides that, my aunt and uncle will kick me out when they find out I can use magic freely, anyway.
I miss you more than I thought was humanly possible to miss someone, and I wish that I could put it into words, but really, sweetheart, I don't know how. All I can tell you is that I miss you, I love you, and I'm never going to let you go once I see you. If that happens to be at the trial, you'll be able to talk in between kisses, right? Because I'm not sure if I'll be able to refrain.
Write back soon!
I love you,
Harry
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (think that counts as snogging? Maybe if I added some more?)
Satisfied, Harry folded up the letter and slid it into an envelope. He glanced up at the two owls, whom were staring at him innocently.
"Were you two reading my letter?" he accused.
He was fairly sure that they had been at least trying to. He grinned as he grabbed a piece of string to tie the letter to Hedwig's leg.
"I'm gonna send Hedwig back with you so that she can bring Silver's letter back to me," he explained to Esperanza, "That way you can get some rest."
Both owls gave him affectionate nips before flying away, leaving Harry alone to anticipate Silver's next letter. With a sigh, he stretched out on his bed. Three more days, three more days, he chanted to himself, I get to see her in three more days. He desperately hoped that Dumbledore wouldn't force him to come back to the Dursleys after the trial, and if he did, at least he should get to spend some time with Silver. Of course, it'd be awfully hard to drag him away from her once he had her in his arms...
He decided to go outside and really bother whoever was watching him at that moment. He decided he'd take a nice little jog through the middle of the street, and then, when he reached town, he'd go into a really crowded store where it'd be hard to keep an eye on him, and then he'd slip out and walk through the park a bit, maybe climb a tree or two...
He headed downstairs still cooking up plans to annoy the heck out of whoever was tailing him. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked up from watching Dudley perform some weird school march for only a second as he passed. He didn't acknowledge them in the slightest, he merely opened the door, stepped outside...and then back inside. Hanging right next to the door were the keys to the Dursley's various vehicles, including Dudley's Ferrari. A smile lit his face as he surveyed all the keys. He decided that he'd take the Ferrari for a drive.
"Hey Dudders, I'm gonna go for a quick drive in your car!" he called.
He then snatched the keys and dashed out the door, vaguely hearing roars of rage coming from both Uncle Vernon and Dudley as he did so. He hit the "Unlock" button on the keychain, and heard the satisfactory popping of the locks. Within a moment he was seated in the expensive car, turning the key in the ignition, and driving off with a cheery wave, leaving the Dursleys standing dumbly in the driveway. They could have at least thought to get another car and drive after him – but no, they weren't that smart. He headed straight for town at a slightly fast rate, chuckling to himself as he did so. He knew that he had successfully ditched whoever had been supposed to watch him, and they were probably having a heart attack at that very moment.
He came to a red light and glanced around the car interestedly. Yes, it was very nice. Candy wrappers littered the ground, along with some cigarette butts. He rolled his eyes. Dudley was going to ward off every girl in the country with his flab, stupidity, and now bad breath. What was that child's problem? He glanced in the rearview mirror to see that nobody was coming after him. Odd, really, that it should take them that long to think of an idea. But then again, it was Dudley he was thinking about. He was probably wailing too loudly for Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to think of anything except shutting him up.
He pulled up in the driveway of a casual-looking restaurant and checked his pockets for money. Nothing. With a sigh, he reclined the seat back, snickering once more at the thought of whoever was tailing him – now not only would they see his car – or rather, the car he had taken – parked there, but when they went into the restaurant to look for him, he wouldn't be there. Serves them right, though, he thought to himself, The least they could have done was bring Silver along and let her spend the day with me. Or Hermione...or Ron! I mean, Mr. Weasley could easily bring Ron along with him while he follows me around all day. He lay in the car, which was actually quite comfortable, for a while before getting back up and looking carefully around. Nobody appeared to have followed him, either the Dursleys or someone else. He realized that he had been hoping for someone to find him – although mostly the latter. At least he'd get to see Uncle Vernon's face go the color of a grape if the Dursleys had found him, though.
He sat back up, bored, and turned the car back on. Without really knowing where he was going, he aimlessly drove around town. He glanced at all the shops as he passed them on the nearly empty street, and suddenly, he swerved to the side and jammed on the brakes. His eyes were focused on a shop whose sign read, "Long's Jewelers". He found himself climbing out of the car and walking to the window, almost in a trance. Glittering up at him was a multitude of rings – diamond rings. He stooped a bit in order to get a closer look at them. He could imagine them glittering on Silver's finger as she reached up to brush her hair out of her face, or waved to him whilst they were in Quidditch practice. He walked inside in order to stare at the rings more closely, and jumped about three feet in the air when he heard a voice.
"Looking for a ring?" inquired an old man with graying hair as he walked to the other side of the counter.
"Um," Harry replied uncertainly, gazing at the rings and then back up at the man, "I'm looking at them, but I probably won't..."
"Yes, you probably won't buy," he said knowingly, "You're just looking for some that would look good on your girl."
"Yeah," Harry replied, relieved that the man understood.
"So, when are you going to ask?" the man inquired.
"Ask?" Harry echoed dumbly.
"You know, pop the question," the man prompted, "Or have you already?"
It took Harry a moment to figure out what the man was implying.
"No, I haven't," he said quickly, "I mean, I'm not going to. Well, I am, but – wait, no I'm not. I haven't...I don't think...I was just looking!"
The man chuckled as Harry stumbled over his words. "Trust me, son, I've seen many a young man walk in here and look at rings for their girl, but you – you have the gleam in your eye. The gleam of love, as I like to call it." He chuckled again, rather softly, and continued. "Yes, you're going to propose, all right. You just wait and see."
Eyes wide, Harry began to back away from the counter. "I, um, had better go," he said quickly, "Thanks for um...that."
With that, he tripped his way out of the store and dazedly walked to the car. He managed to get in and lock the doors before running a hand through his hair confusedly, trying to figure out what, exactly, had just happened.
"Propose?" he asked aloud, "That would mean...getting married. And that would mean..."
The best thing that could ever happen to you? a voice in his head suggested.
"No, it would mean..." he began, but he paused. What would it mean?
It would mean that Silver is yours. It would mean that you two would share a life, a house, a family. It would mean that you're Silver's. It would mean that you wouldn't have to go so much as a night without her. It would mean...
"Shut up!" he commanded irritably to the voice in his head, "I can't propose. We haven't even talked about...anything!"
She did say that she couldn't live without you, the voice replied, And you know you can't live without her. And you don't have to, if you just ask a simple, four-word question.
"It's not simple," he argued, not realizing that he was talking to himself, "And she...she wouldn't do it. She wouldn't. She's too good for me."
He said it simply, as if it were a fact of life, and then he wondered what he was saying. Was he saying that Silver going to dump him for someone better? Was he saying that she didn't really love him at all? But then again, the way she looked at him – a look reserved for no one else. The way she allowed him to take her into his arms and kiss her, surely she wouldn't allow anyone else to do that, ever. But did she love him enough to marry him – to dedicate her life to him? Did he love her enough? Definitely yes to the last question. He wondered why it hadn't crossed his mind before.
Dazedly, he drove back to the Dursleys, not bothering to fathom what punishments they probably had in store for him. He parked the car in it's previous position, perhaps a bit crooked, and walked through the door. Instantly he was bombarded with questions, accusations, and threats. It was so that he could hardly hear a question for the fact that it was being drowned out among many others. The one word that he could hear repeatedly was the famous, 'Why?'
"I had to go look at engagement rings," he announced.
This successfully shut them all up. They stared at him, dumbfounded, as he made his way up to his room, still feeling as if he had been run over with about twenty large trucks. He collapsed onto his bed, deep in thought.
"Silver, will you marry me?" he asked quietly to the unoccupied room.
The words sent a chill down his spine. A good chill. He was half anticipating an answer from the corners of his room, or his closet, but nothing happened.
"Bloody hell, why haven't I thought of this before now?" he muttered, repeatedly hitting his head on his pillow.
He thought for a good hour, laying on the same position on his bed, before he came to a conclusion.
"I want to marry Silver," he announced.
He then groaned and began to hit his head on his pillow again. He was definitely going to have to have a talk with Lupin – or wait, Lupin wasn't married. Perhaps Mr. Weasley would be the better one to ask. He decided to just talk to them both. There had to be a way to go about it – it couldn't be as simple as just asking. And then, of course, there was Silver. He couldn't bring himself to think of the possibility that she didn't want to marry him, and yet it weighed heavily on his mind. He sighed and rolled over onto his back.
He was definitely going to have to get some answers, and soon.