Disclaimer: I wish I owned the characters. Harry would have relatives who cared for him and Snape would have some closure. Alas, they are not mine. They belong to JKR, Scholastic, WB, etc.

sighs

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Harry Potter and the Pillars of Truth

Chapter Six

The door closed with a thud that resounded through the house and echoed through the empty corners of his heart. It was a relief to have them gone, to actually be able to call #4 Privet Drive home.

Having something of his own -- bare as it was of anything other than a sagging bed and threadbare rug in he'd moved to the master bedroom -- was wonderful.

"Happy birthday, Harry," he whispered into the night, shutting off the lights that he would later enchant to run on magic. "Happy birthday to me."

Harry climbed the stairs, habit taking him to the tiny room that had been his prison. He smiled at the locks on the door before turning around and going into the master suite, such as it was.

He pulled out his wand. There was not much left to do tonight -- just one more thing before he could rest.

Swish. Flick. Will.

Instead of having a rickety Hollywood frame and a mattress older than he was stand lonely in the center of the room, a magnificent four-poster with ebony wood and red-and-gold curtains dominated the space. Eventually he'd have to purchase a real one -- such transfigurations did not last forever, although it would the night and many to come -- but for now, Harry fell into the soft, feather mattress with a happy sigh, kicking off his over-large trainers. He burrowed under the blankets, smiling. No more lumps and bumps, just a soft, warm cocoon that welcomed him eagerly.

"Mmmmm. Happy birthday to me."

0

"Thank you for dropping us off, Dr. Granger!" Ron Weasley called to Hermione's mother, who waved him off with a conspiratorial smile.

"Just call the office when you're ready to come home!"

"Thanks, Mum." Hermione held a large bag in front of her that she hadn't even allowed Ron to peek into. "We might be back tonight, but…"

"Hermione, darling. I trust you -- and your young man." Jane Granger smiled. "You wouldn't do anything to shame me or your father."

Ron blushed. Hermione's cheeks bloomed a becoming rose. "Thanks, Mum."

"I'll tell the Weasley's where you are --"

"Just tell them we're with Harry," said Hermione firmly.

Dr. Granger frowned. "I don't know that I like being so evasive --"

"It's for Harry's safety, really." Hermione smiled. "I thought you trusted me?"

"I do." Dr. Granger nodded. "Very well then. We'll see you in a couple of days?"

"Absolutely," Hermione nodded. "It'll be okay, really, mum."

"See to it." She started the car. "Have a good time!"

"Bye, Mum!"

"Goodbye, Dr. Granger!"

Hermione giggled as the car pulled away from the curb. "Signs that your parents believe you're growing up. Allow for an indefinite stay with another friend without gathering reams and reams of data."

"Huh?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Mum didn't even ask to meet the Dursley's. But I expect mum realizes that for Harry to have us over, his relatives can't be here."

"Ron! Hermione!" Harry waved to them from the door. "You going to stand on the curb all morning?"

"No!" Hermione ran up to him. "Harry! Happy birthday!"

She handed over the bag and Harry peeked inside.

"You are the best. The goblins give you any trouble?"

"Not in the least. They were happy to comply with your request." She grinned. "It was fun shopping with Luna, much to my surprise."

Hermione and Ron trailed Harry into the house and Ron gawked at all the bare spaces.

"Blimey! What's all this then?"

"The beginning of my life, such as it is," Harry said grinning. "I've, uh, taken possession of this house for my own use, and re-Warded it."

Hermione laughed, delighted. "Oh, you sly devil. You told Dumbledore you were leaving here."

"Yes."

"How long until he figures it out, do you suppose?"

"Dunno. I expect he'll be searching the whole of the British Isles before he thinks to look here." Harry grinned. "Vernon doesn't realize that he signed a binding magical contract that keeps him from telling people where I am. Even if they see Aunt Petunia or Dudley, they'll none of them be able to tell Dumbledore or his lackeys where I've gone. The neighbors have been aware that the Dursley's were moving for weeks -- and when they look at me, they just see 'that nice young man who bought the Dursley place.'"

Ron howled with laughter. "That's priceless. Don't they recognize you?"

Harry shook his head. "Variant on the Fidelius Charm and the Notice-me-Not."

Hermione tapped her lips. "Clever. Very clever."

"You should know. You suggested it."

"Well, I didn't think you meant to use it for this kind of purpose." Hermione threw her arms around Harry. "What a wonderful birthday!"

"Yes indeed." Harry dug around in the bag and pulled out what looked like furniture for a dollhouse. He considered it for a moment before setting things out around the fireplace. "Finite Incantatem!"

The shrinking spells on the furniture vanished and it expanded to normal size.

Harry smiled. "Excellent. I thought that was leather when I pulled it out."

Ron stared at the living room furniture. "This is what you and Luna were doing in London?"

Hermione nodded.

"And you didn't tell me?" Ron pouted. Hermione scowled and then softened.

"Ron, you were busy with your father that day, and I didn't dare say anything about it at your house."

"What's this?"

Hermione's scowl returned, accompanied by one from Ron.

"I have reason to believe that Dumbledore has set up some kind of passive surveillance on the Burrow."

"We don't know that!"

"Ron, he came to your house the morning after we talked about Harry's plans for his birthday." Hermione sighed. "The old man came to forbid us from contacting you today. Said it wouldn't be safe. As though anything is."

Ron snorted. "Okay, okay. It was a bit coincidental at that."

"A bit? Honestly, Ron."

"I think you and Harry have gotten a bit paranoid about Dumbledore."

"You think?" Harry laughed roughly. "I'm more than a bit paranoid about Dumbledore. He makes Machiavelli look tame."

"He does have the whole of the Wizarding World's best interests at heart, Harry."

"I know. That doesn't mean he gives a damn about mine." Harry sighed. "Let's not talk about this. Now that I'm of age, Dumbledore can't stop me from doing what I would like to do."

"Such as?" asked Ron.

"I want to test for my Apparation license."

Ron looked at him. Hermione laughed. "So that's one of the surprises."

Harry nodded and held out a roll of parchment. "And here's your permission to test early, if you like."

Hermione blinked. "You're kidding."

"No. He's mental." Ron laughed. "How're we going to get to Diagon Alley?"

"Simple enough --" Harry pointed at the fireplace. "Unregistered Floo."

"They'll know where we came from!"

Ron shook his head. "No they won't. You can Floo from any fire, Hermione. You just can't Floo to an unregistered one. People do it all the time, really."

"You'd think that…" Suddenly she laughed. "Oh, right, it doesn't matter. It'll just say something like 'Harry Potter's Residence' or some such nonsense. It doesn't give an address."

Harry nodded, laughing with her. "That's right. It'd say that no matter where I Flooed from, so long as I thought it was my home."

"Devious. Gred and Forge will be proud of you."

"When we tell them, which is no time soon. I love your brothers, but they can't always keep their mouths shut, at least among family."

"Right." Ron nodded. "Are you going to tell Ginny?"

"At the party tonight." Harry smiled. "We've got reservations at Medici's, in Diagon Alley. Neville and Luna will meet us there, and Hermione has told Ginny about it."

Ron's eyes bugged out. "Medici's? Harry, that's the most expensive restaurant in London."

Harry smiled wickedly. "I know."

"Everyone who is anyone will see us there."

"I know."

"I don't have anything to wear!"

Hermione and Harry looked at one another and then at Ron. They grinned.

"We know," they said in unison.

"Which is why," Hermione continued, "I expect we're going shopping after we test."

Harry nodded.

Ron groaned.

0

"What in God's name is that dratted boy up to?" growled Severus Snape, watching from the shadows as three triumphant Gryffindors emerged from the Ministry of Magic building as though they had no cares in the world. He couldn't hear the soft pop!'s of Apparation, but it was done so publicly that he had no doubt that the enormous grins on their faces had to do with acquiring their Apparation licenses. He had no idea where they might have gone. "Idiots, the lot of them."

Snape Apparated away to the gates of an ancient, crumbling ruin. Once it had been a magnificent castle, a force to be reckoned with on the moors, but now housed the solitary remains of a great, pureblooded family. He stared at the rooms he had made only barely habitable in the monstrosity that was his 'family' manor, along with their solitary visitor and sighed.

"Foolish children."

"You have news, then?" asked Albus Dumbledore.

"Really, Albus, we must stop meeting like this," Snape said dryly. "People will suspect that we're having an affair."

"Minerva already believes that I am diddling half the staff, Severus, otherwise why would I keep you and Trelawny on?"

Snape snorted. "I don't know, does Sybil give good head?"

"I wouldn't know, dear boy. Perhaps you should ask her?"

"I would rather attach one of those Muggle machines -- what are they, called, Hoovers? Vacuums? Something like that -- to my cock than have Sybil Trelawny within five feet of it."

"That must make dancing with her very difficult."

"I have never danced with Trelawny." Snape glowered at the Headmaster. "In or out of bed."

"Pity. I expect she could use a good shag, really."

Snape dismissed that with a wave of his hand. "Tell me, Albus, how do you expect to keep Potter under control if you've allowed him to get his Apparation license?"

The old man choked. "What?"

"I saw the three of them -- Granger, Potter and Weasley -- come out of the Ministry and Apparate away."

Dumbledore growled. "I told the two of them to stay away from Harry this summer."

"Much good it seems to have done you, Albus." Snape studied the Dumbledore. "You do realize what this means."

"That I have lost control of our only real weapon against Voldemort?" Albus sat heavily upon an ancient chair that was barely up to the old man's weight. "That I have foolishly squandered the good will of the boy that will save us all --"

"Or condemn us. He's just a child, Albus."

"Hardly a child, Severus." Dumbledore stared at him and Snape flushed faintly with an unreasonable shame. "Harry has probably never been a child."

"Don't be stupid," Snape snapped. "Despite what you think and what he thinks, he is not a functioning adult. He is, so far as I have been able to determine, unable to think anything out far enough ahead to qualify as an adult."

"That is hardly fair, Severus."

"What has fair got to do with it?" Snape asked rhetorically. "The boy is a menace."

"Menace or not, he is our only hope." Albus stared at him. "And he must be found."

"You are joking." Snape glared at the old man. "You're not joking."

"I wish that I were."

"Albus, I cannot be expected to trail every little…"

"Severus."

"…damn it." Snape's long, elegant fingers clasped the bridge of his nose. No doubt his incipient migraine was going to smack him around like a trout in a tsunami. "You do realize how suspicious it is for me to wander around asking Muggles questions about Harry?"

"I am sure that you can think of something to pacify the Dark Lord.

"Oh, the joy that is being me," Snape sneered. "I will have to pretend to search a thousand different places, so he does not realize that I know exactly where to start. I shall institute inquiries that are designed to be fruitless, just so he doesn't aim an Aveda at my head. Oh, rapturous day!"

"That will be quite enough, my boy."

"If anyone in this discussion is not a boy --" Snape took a deep breath. "Very well. I will begin putting feelers out as soon as I can, but surely you would be better off asking the werewolf… or possibly the Impossible Twins."

Dumbledore laughed at the audible capitals. "The Weasley boys are not that bad."

"Are they not?" Severus winced as his Dark Mark began to burn. "Fuck. He calls."

"Stay safe, Severus."

Snape didn't bother to sneer at that, instead summoning his cloak and mask and Disappparating away.

0

Shopping in Muggle London with Hermione and Ron proved to be a most excellent adventure. They had gone to the most expensive clothing store they could find the courage to enter and purchased formal wear for them all. Harry enjoyed watching Ron gape over Hermione in a tight, short skirt that barely came to mid-thigh before she chose a floor-length sheath that did amazing things to her figure and eyes.

Harry, upon announcing that he needed a new wardrobe, found himself surrounded by obsequious staff that made him want to laugh because all he could think of was seeing Malfoy at Madam Malkin's robe shop the first time, the little snot radiating money and arrogance in equal measure. He vaguely wondered how Malfoy was doing. His father had received the Kiss almost a year ago and Harry felt strangely guilty about prodding the young man about it on the train.

Shaking off thoughts of Malfoy, he brought his attention to the seemingly thousands of styles and cuts for tuxedos and then glanced at Hermione. She was staring wide-eyed at Ron, his arse and shoulders lovingly displayed in a designer tuxedo, who remained oblivious as the salesmen fluttered around him like so many drifting leaves on the wind.

Harry had to admit it was a nice arse. The thighs weren't bad either. Hours of riding a broom had that effect on people.

Not that Ron's was the arse he really wanted to see, but as he'd told Hermione on the train, he'd not had much time for snogging, or even thinking about it. When he did think about it, the oddest things would come to mind -- a soft voice, like velvet and razorblades rumbling indistinctly, or long-fingered hands, like a pianists, playing against his skin.

The only conclusion he'd really come to in the past year was that if and when he started exploring the possibilities of sex, he wasn't planning to do it with the opposite gender. Cho, as pretty as she was, had drawn him for aesthetic qualities that he valued… and because, he suspected, that she was almost as flat as a board with nearly that many curves.

These days Ron would qualify for fantasy material -- broad shoulders, slim waist, powerful thighs, and an arse to die for -- but Ron was his family, his kin, and every time his hormones said "Wow! Look at that!" the rest of him said "Ewww. Just ewww."

But he had to admit that Hermione had reason to be goggling.

"Harrrry. You don't really expect me to wear this, do you?"

"Yes." Harry smiled, and Ron's eyes narrowed.

"That's rather an… interesting expression."

"Someone's got a pla-an." Hermione sing-songed. She gave Harry an appreciative once-over. "Mmmm. Yummy!"

"Hermione!"

"I'm not dead, Ron, and Harry could take the limp out of a noodle the way he looks right now."

Harry blushed. "Hermione!"

"Well, you could!" Hermione laughed. "A pity we haven't enough time for more thorough tailoring."

"Are you a witch or aren't you?" Ron asked and Harry laughed at her blush.

"Right then." She glanced at Harry. "How aggressively Muggle do you want to be?"

Ron stared at them. "Oh. I get it. Except that I don't. What the hell?"

"Everyone who is anyone will be at Medici's."

"So?"

"I want to make a statement." Harry looked at Ron. "You don't have to wear a tux. Your own formal wear will do, you know."

Ron shook his head. "No. I stand with you, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Just so."

"What about Ginny and Luna and Neville?"

"Luna is taking Ginny shopping today."

"Oh, dear."

Harry laughed. "I trust Ginny to come up with something appropriate."

"And Neville?"

"Went shopping with Dean last week, although Dean is all at sea as to why Neville would drop so much money on muggle clothes."

Hermione laughed. "Poor Dean."

"Poor Dean, indeed. Poor Neville."

"I'm sure that Dean left out the leather shops and biker bars." Harry tilted his head to one side. "Or, maybe not."

"Harry!" Hermione thwacked him on the arm.

"Oh, come on. Neville in leather pants. You know you want to see it."

"My brain! My brain!" Ron shuddered. "I've got to scrub that image out of my mind!"

Hermione's look at her boyfriend was wicked. "Okay, how about…"

She whispered something in his ear and Ron's eyes grew enormous. "You. Are. Evil."

She grinned. "Wickedness is its own reward."