Disclaimer-Is (It's like the Energizer Bunny! It keeps going...and going...and going...)
Hiya everybody. I've taken on a role that I didn't really think I should've done. It went against every instinct in my body but I am now authoring two stories at once. His Wedding and of course, Start From The End. So now you are reassured that this will not affect how often I update this story 'cause if I don't then I get twice as many angry reviewers. Isn't great? LOL...Recently I've taken to cutting my thank-yous short. It just takes up too much time and space. I'll add comments to some people who I have stuff to say too and the rest I just thank you and love you very much!
Claudette Clairvaux: Nice name.
bethzc: Haha...Ron is something. But don't worry it'll always be something more.
daddysgirl101989: That does sound annoying. Ron plays a big role for sure. Did you check out the sequel? I put it up.
Queen Weasel: It would make me sad too. But you'll have to wait and see what happens.
PinkyTheSnowman: Yes I found it hard to describe too and I wrote it lol. It's a tricky sort of chapter. Glad you liked it.
trikkity: Heyhey...why'd you have to go cancel the party. Gosh you're SO selfish. Anywhoo give my back my story before you go away on vacation. Hehe I'm so excited I get a new haircut!
Thanks to dancerrdw, sjpgurl13, hipchick, horselover, Dimensional Analysis, and Aimz16 for reviewing too! Loving it you guys!
Scars are tattoos with better stories-Unknown
Harry wanted so very much to discuss Ron Weasley and Dumbledore and The Order of the Phoenix with Hermione. Yet somehow he couldn't...something held him back. He hated to admitt it to himself but some slimey, dark feeling inside told him not to trust Hermione anymore. She was kind and gentle and had obviously known him longer than he knew. She knew him better than he knew himself. Literally. Not only was that scary but it made him distrust. Why wasn't she telling him things?
But more than anything else, hearing Dumbledore warn his younger self about Hermione and Ron possibly convinced him of his suspicions more than anything. And why would Hermione pretend Dumbledore hadn't existed?
"Harry?" Luna spoke up, "You're not touching your lunch?"
Harry looked down at his plate. It was stacked with sandwiches. They looked lovely. The type your mother would make you for a picnic at the park in hot July. Sometimes Harry thought about this mother. His father. His family. He wondered where they were? Of all the people he'd met, none of them had said they were related to him.
"I'm not very hungry," Harry said, quietly, pushing his plates away.
Luna raised her eyebrows and came to sit on his bed, "What are you thinking of?"
She had her silvery eyes pointed at him and didn't blink. He shifted himself, uncomfortably. He couldn't possibly tell her his suspicions.
"I was...thinking of my mother," he said, avoiding her eyes, "Did you-I mean-well...did you know her?"
He turned his head to look her in the eye. He wanted to be sure she wasn't lying. However her express never changed.
"No, I didn't," Luna replied.
"Did Hermione?" he continued.
Luna shook her head. She stood again and took to a chair. There she began reading a magazine. The Quibbler.
Harry again fell into his own thoughts. Luna was a wonderfully talkative person when she wanted to be but at times she wasn't a very converationalist. He picked at his skin and thought again of the person who's name was etched in his mind. Ron Weasley.
"It's not working!" Hermione cried, exasperated, "He's remembering things faster than we can hide them."
"That's no reason to pour out every single fact...every hurtful memory out to him," Mrs. Weasley said in defense, "Do you know what all that can do to a man?"
Hermione sighed, "But he's asking questions, serious ones about Dumbledore and the Order."
Professor McGonagall stared, fixedly, at her quill, "Miss Granger, none of this is good enough to force us to reveal everything to him."
"But...," Hermione continued, "What if us giving him a lack of information causes him to doubt us? What if he gets sources of information from the wrong people?"
Professor McGonagall looked up, sharply, "And exactly how will he do that when he not allowed to leave the house?"
Hermione shut her mouth, paused, then opened it once more, "So, now Harry's not allowed to leave the house either?"
"Hermione," Charlie said, standing up, "We decided it unanimously..."
"Without me?" Hermione demanded, her eyes glinting dangerously.
"Well lately you've been rather busy visiting with Harry...," Charlie countered.
"Oh I see," Hermione responded, coolly, "No need for you to go on."
She left and room in a wild fury and shut the door with a bang behind her. Hermione was careful to hold in her tears till she was outside of the meeting room at the least.
"What's gotten into her?" Padma wondered out loud.
"She's just upset is all," Professor McGongall answered, rather simply, "She's gotten her best friend back but he's not all she suspected."
"Well, shouldn't one of us go after her?" Zachrias suggested.
"Leave her be," Professor McGonagall said, sadly before continuing on with the meeting.
Harry tried to shut his eyes and dream again. That's what he wanted to do more than anything. Dream and let himself be taken back to the past. To this other world he felt he had to rediscover. Yet sometimes, you see, the things you want to do most don't happen. Harry felt as if he was a child trying to show his mother that he'd learned to do a cartwheel. But when he'd gone to do it...he'd messed. Yet afterwards when he was all alone and least suspecting it, he'd make the perfect cartwheel. Of course Harry wasn't trying to do a cartwheel; he was trying to dream.
He rolled over in bed and wondered if there was possibly any spell to make him dream. Then again, what use would that be to him. He hadn't touched a wand in forever. No one had suggested he'd try one out and he'd never asked. Yet now he thought about where his wand was. The DA had it most likely. But somehow that frightened him.
The only wand in the entire room was Padma's. Of course! He could use Padma's wand. It was only temporarily. It couldn't hurt anybody. He was the only one in the room. And the wand was lying carelessly on top of a dresser practically begging to be used. In his excitement Harry stood from the bed and began to creep towards the wand.
At last it was in his grasp. But it didn't give him the adrenaline rush he'd been expecting. Perhaps that was because it wasn't even his own wand. Harry tightened his grip on it and just was he was about to try a shot at magic for the first time in years, the door opened. It opened only a tad with a barely audible creak. Harry threw Padma's wand into his pocket and stood there, still as could be.
It was Hermione. For one gratifying second Harry was relieved but then he suddenly tensed up again. What was Hermione doing in his bedroom so late at night?
"Harry?" Hermione whispered, "Is that you?"
"Hermione...what're you doing here?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
Hermione, clumsily wadded through the darkness until she was close enough to Harry to reach out and touch him.
"Harry, I want you to come with me," Hermione explained, hardly breathing, "I want you to come visit my flat."
"Now?" Harry implored, incredulously, "Why now?"
"Because or else the DA wouldn't let you," Hermione said in a slightly impatient tone.
"Why not?" Harry demanded, reaching into his pocket and feeling Padma's wand. As far as he was concerned the DA were the only people he could trust.
"Oh Harry!" Hermione sighed in frustration, "I'll explain it all to you when we get to my flat. Right now you just have to trust me and come with me! I promise Harry I would never lead you astray."
Harry stared at her in wonderment. It was strange how with only a few words the way you see a person can change entirely. He had only been distrusting her a few minutes before but after her inspirational speech he took her hand and let her help him out of the dark.
Harry felt so strange to pass through the doors of the DA Headquarters. It almost felt as if he were leaving some universe to enter into another. It was rather hard to imagine that there was an entire world outside of the house Harry had been staying for the past week.
However it looked like he hadn't missed much. The grass was dying and the houses were dirty. Paint chipped, windows grimy. It wasn't the great outdoors he'd imagined at all. Hary almost tripped over a loose plate of sidewalk on his way down to the street. Hermione turned around to make sure it was alright.
"Don't worry. I stubbed my big toe on that millions of time before I remembered to step over it," Hermione assured, "Just be careful for that next time."
Harry couldn't help but smile, "So this is outside?"
"This is outside," Hermione declared, smiling to herself, "Not what you expected, eh?"
Harry shook his head, "So, how do we get to your flat?"
Hermione frowned, slightly, "It will be a bit difficult seeing as to how you don't remember much magic..."
Harry blushed. He knew he shouldn't be ashamed. Many people in his case wouldn't remember how to transfigure a tissue into a dove or charm a ball to fly around a room.
"I suppose we should...morph your features slightly...change your eye color, your haircut," Hermione commentated, walking around him, "Add a bit of weight, change your voice..."
Harry felt unbelievably odd as Hermione tapped him with her wand in various parts of his body. He felt his hair crop shorter and his jaw sharpen considerably. He watched as the pouch of his stomach widened and his voice got deeper. Too deep but it would do. Hermione conjured up a mirror so he could see his eyes. They were blue. How silly he looked with blue eyes! (Author's Note: This is a clue for all the Harry Potter Movie Makers. Make Daniel's blue eyes, GREEN!)
Finally Hermione studied him, critically.
"Hmm...all looks alright...oh wait this won't do!" Hermione cried, gesturing towards his forward.
Harry reached up and felt a lightning bolt scar there. It traced it with his fingers. It felt nice and cool. Somehow Harry felt this scar to be special and he didn't like the thought of Hermione having to hide it.
"Why do we have to hide it?" Harry questioned, raising his eyebrows.
"If we don't people will ask questions," Hermione said in choppy tones.
Harry didn't quite comprehend but let her remove the scar temporary with very strong concealing magic. He touched his forehead and his fingers felt odd not having a scar to massage. It all felt out of place. Like without that scar he wasn't quite Harry Potter anymore. Did the scar make the man?
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, softly.
"It feels...weird without it, you know," Harry explained, "I don't feel like myself."
Hermione smiled, sadly, "You're much more than a scar, Harry. Remember that."
Harry wished he could believe it but somehow...he felt as if his whole life was imprinted in that one scar.
"Ok, next step," Hermione said, "Now Harry, I'm going to go call the knight bus by sending off some sparks of my wand. You promise to me that you don't reveal our idenitites? And if anybody talks to you, don't say anything. Just say I don't know, alright? Oh and another thing, my name is Mona Jones and your my cousin Jacob Jones."
Harry nodded. It was rather fishy but he realized that Hermione must've had a good reason for doing it. He stood back and watched her send green sparks in the air. Within minutes a violent violet bus appeared at the corner of the street. It slowed for Hermione and Harry and as it opened a small boy came out to help them in. Harry was shocked to see such a young boy (he was only about seven or eight) labouring his days away as a bus attendant. He had mousy blonde hair and pale expression. As if famine and disease had hit his family. Harry would've liked it know more about the boy but Hermione distracted him.
"Are you ready for this, Jacob?" Hermione inquired, eyebrows raised high enough to fly away into her bangs.
Harry thought a second before answering, "I think I am, Mona."
Author's Note: Yes, yes, yes. Finished his chapter. Now MUCH more interesting stuff is to come. Ouch I hurt my pinky...it hurts to type...
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