Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter Three: Simmering
Harry awoke around midmorning to an infernal scratching against his bedroom window. Rolling over and wishing it to go away and leave him to his sleep, he let out a sigh. The scratching stopped for a moment, but was replaced with a slight banging.
Huffing irritably, Harry sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. When he opened the window a small ball of feathers whirled in and hit him square in the chest.
It seemed that when Harry had refused to let the small owl in, it had resorted to flying into the glass.
Harry rubbed the area between his eyes and attempted to get the letter from Pig. After his hand had grasped the owl and had set it down for long enough so Harry could untie the burden, he sat back on the bed with a letter adorned with very familiar hand writing. Pig gave a hoot of thanks and zoomed back out the window.
Opening it a bit happier than he had been moments before, he read the loopy print.
Hello Harry!
Great news! I got to Pig first! (Ron and I were fighting over who got to use Pig and who had to use Errol.)
No, that wasn't the great news, but it was good. We're on TSO! I doubt you know what that means so I'll explain. TSO is short for Teen Soap Operas. Professor Dumbledore decided that it'd be good for muggle and wizard relations if we understood them better. So every witch and Wizard in the muggle world has a chance to own a television with wizarding shows!
We've been picked for TSO! The list of teenage winners is:
Neville LongbottomDean Thomas
Gregory Goyle
Vincent Crabbe
Millicent Bulstrode
Seamus Finnigan
Lavender Brown
Ginevra Weasley
Draco Malfoy
Pavarti Patil
Blaise Zabini
Susan Bones
Elizabeth Jabel
Ronald Weasley
Hermione Granger
Harry Potter
Isn't it wonderful? Pack you're bags! Dad and I are coming to pick you up at noon today!
Love,
Ginny
Harry reread the letter with something akin to horror on his face. This was a joke! It had to be! Soap Operas? Those awful things his Aunt Petunia watched every weekday from 4:00 to 6:00? No! It definitely had to be a joke. Ginny just wouldn't do something like that to him.
Oh wait, yes she would. She was the one who invented the pill that made you age fifty years and fed it to him on his birthday last summer. He had had foot long hairs growing out of his ears all day.
Oh hell, he'd be surprised if she wasn't the one behind it. He rubbed the back of his head—making his hair stick up even more—out of frustration. She was really unbelievable sometimes. And he knew even if she wasn't the ring leader, by George she'd had part in it!
Speaking of George, he imagined the smirk on her face and realized she took after the trouble making twins a little too much sometimes. It was unhealthy—for him.
There was no stopping it or her now though. He knew from experience it was far less painful just to give in to the smallest Weasley. He really didn't fancy being at the end of her bat-bogey hex anytime soon.
Bringing a sort of half grimace-half grin to his face, he realized that if she sought after, she could probably make him do anything she wanted. Not that that was okay with him or anything. Aug, he really did think about Ginny too much.
What with all his cluttered Ginny filled thoughts, he forgot that they'd be coming to pick him up soon. Cursing to himself, he dragged his trunk next to his bedside table, opened the lid, and shoved every piece of content of the surface of the nightstand swiftly into the awaiting chest.
He knew Hermione would highly disapprove of his method of packing, but really didn't have the time. The clock on his dresser read 11:37 AM. He continued to pick up odd sort of clothing and winging it into his trunk carelessly.
He wondered if Hermione knew she was on the list for this TSO. Scratch that. She was probably in cahoots with Ginny, herself! And there he was thinking about Ginny again! Why was his brain against him?
Hedwig hooted from her perch reminding him not to forget her. Harry waved his hand in acknowledgement and shot the small, beat-up room a dark look. He got own on his hands and knees to lift up the loose floorboards and remove all the things he had stashed there.
Food, books, and a couple of odd misshapen socks from Dobby were skewed from their hiding place beneath the floorboards and into the chest.
When, Harry was finished he plopped back onto his bed and let out a long breath of air. The clock read 11:52 AM. Staring at the ceiling he briefly wondered whether or not he should forewarn the Dursley's about the Weasley's visit. He quickly brushed the thought aside because it would be easier if Ginny and Mr. Weasley just rang the doorbell and he left with them. The best method would be as little confrontation with the Dursley's as needed.
But, Oh Merlin, Ginny hadn't said how they were getting there! What if they had another fireplace incident? He really didn't want to think about what would happen if that were the case. It'd be catastrophic and that was enough. At least there'd be no Fred and George though.
He was saved from his thoughts of frightening situations when the doorbell rang. And rang and rang again. In fact the doorbell didn't stop ringing until he got there and swung the door open. Harry watched as Ginny attempted in vain to stop her muggle obsessed father from ringing the doorbell.
Thundering footsteps filled the hallway as Vernon (with Petunia hiding behind him) and his family came into view, enraged.
Harry winced, but said, "I'm leaving for the rest of the summer. I'll just go get my trunk!" And with that he flew up the stairs and gathered his belongings. The trunk thumped down the stairs and Harry had his Firebolt slung over his shoulder when Ginny stepped in to help him.
It seemed the Dursley's recognized Arthur Weasley and were absolutely petrified—as Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were backed into a corner with Vernon telling Mr. Weasley they weren't welcome.
Harry shot that they were leaving now and he and Ginny hauled his things through the front door followed by Arthur who had given up trying to explain things.
When they got outside, Harry saw a blue Ford Angelina.
"Wait a minute, that car looks familiar," Harry said, scrunching his brows.
"Yeah, the centaurs finally got fed up with it roaming free through the forest and kicked it out. When Dumbledore gave it back to us, he had made improvements on it himself." Ginny replied as Arthur put Harry's belongings into the trunk.
"Oh... Does this thing still have a mind of its own?" he questioned warily. The car beeped.
Harry let out a groan. "I'll take that as a yes." He saw out of the corner of his eye, Ginny grin. She seemed to be holding back a string of laughs. Mr. Weasley got back into the car and told them to buckle up before putting the car in reverse and driving away.
"Laugh at me, will you," Harry told her. Ginny smiled and patted his hand in mock sympathy.
"There, there." But Harry wasn't paying attention to whatever she said next. The contact of her hand and his sent sparks up his spine. He felt a blush creep up his neck when he realized Ginny was no longer talking, but giving him an odd look.
"Um...sorry...I didn't catch that last bit," he said awkwardly. Ginny gave him one last look before answering.
"I said, what do you think Ron said to Hermione when mum and he went to pick her up? He was pretty upset with her the last time I saw him."
"Oh?" Harry mumbled nonchalantly. This was going to be a very long ride indeed.