Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret

Author: Japhu

Pairing: HPSS

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and his world and don't make any money with it.

Summary: For one week in summer Harry disappears without trace. When he comes back he claims to have no memory. But something happened and it changed him. It remains to be seen if for the better or the worse. (will be HPSS)

Category: action/adventure/angst

Feedback: highly appreciated

Chapter 11 - Yearly Ritual

For the next hour Hermione and Harry sat together, noses in the books. Only now and then they were interrupted from Ron's excited cries when the Chudley Cannons in his new Quidditch magazine made another extraordinary move to get quaffle or snitch. Harry worked meticulously to get everything done. He did not really have any problems with the homework – the amount of his knowledge sometimes surprised Harry himself. Once and again prying his repeatedly dropping eyes open, he took extra care to turn around some facts and to leave out some others he knew had been mentioned in the book, which he had borrowed from his always prepared friend. Hermione would look through his work later, after all. She should find, at least, some fault with his homework.

Yawning, Harry leaned back and rested his eyes for just a moment. The swirls of magic whirled in front of his closed eyes and he watched transfixed until he opened them with a sigh. He had already enough of Herbology. It was not his favourite subject and would never be, and if he had to read one more sentence about the proper way of potting magical plants in comparison to Muggle ones, Harry would drop dead of boredom just to get away from it. Harry looked around. His friends' magic was continuously drawing his attention. He wondered what his own magic would look like. For reasons Harry did not know, he was not able to even glimpse his own core energy, though, it would have been very interesting to know, particularly after the change he had gone through.

Half an hour was gone with waiting and working. Harry heaved another sigh and glanced out of the window when he noticed movement coming around. Slowly but steadily King's Cross station filled with people. Parents took their children to the train, the younger ones hugging their parents for dear life, while others finally began to board. Everyone was chattering with their friends to catch up on the summer. With pursed lips Harry twirled the quill in his hand and glimpsed thoughtfully back to his essay. He had not consciously designed how to play out his plan. Mostly he would just go from moment to moment and see what cards his fate held ready for him. With new determination Harry closed the books and put his essay onto the next seat with a lot less care than Hermione would think proper.

"I'm done," he announced and drew both his friends' looks to him. Hermione seemed doubtful, but her gaze changed fast to one of worry.

"Are you alright, Harry? You look tired."

"I am." Harry smiled reassuringly. "Vernon just brought me here really early. I didn't get much sleep last night." He could not suppress a yawn and stretched languidly. His exhaustion was just the effect from handling too much magic at once. Harry had a real problem adapting to his surroundings, and to watch and feel the swirling flows of high level magical energy all around him did not really help the matter. Fortunately he had dealt with Tom already, for Harry would be unable to do anything to help himself as weak as felt now. He doubted his ability to do even a simple first year spell – with the right amount of power, at least. Ron slid across to him, a look of secrecy on his face.

"How did you find my birthday present?" he asked interested and full of expectation. For a moment Harry sat dazed. He had not even thought about presents. Had he gotten some at all? Harry could not remember. At that time he had been busy fighting off Tom and achieving some balance with his own, bouncing magic. The change had been painful. Harry shook his head at Ron's imploring gaze.

"Well, I got your letters – most of them, I think." he said to both of them, as Hermione watched him intently, too. The letters Harry had gotten from his friends were not something to occupy himself with for more then a few minutes. They were well meant but held little to no information. Harry had not bothered to write back often. They did not expect him to, anyway. Harry shrugged indifferently and elaborated.

"I didn't get any presents, though. Lupin and Moody were there that morning. They didn't say anything about me disappearing, but they wished me well." Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Mostly they just asked stupid questions."

"Probably they just were trying to confirm where you had vanished to." Hermione frowned worriedly.

"Then why didn't they ask me that when I was… back at the Dursleys' again?" Harry let his confusion and anger at both men show through – the latter, at least, was real. "They just went on and on about nothing, and when I asked why they'd come they were just full of nonsense."

Harry had well thought whether – and what – he should tell his friends of the men's visit. As everyone – Dumbledore at first – would expect Harry to let his friends in on the happenings, they would only grow suspicious early when it seemed as if Harry held secrets even from them. Dumbledore would certainly interview them at one point and take a look into their minds. It was better Harry told them the same story they would hear from Dumbledore beforehand. Harry sighed. He did not want to deal with Dumbledore too early. He was not wholy comfortable around that man; in truth, he annoyed him like no one else except Tom… and maybe Snape,… Malfoy senior and son,… and the Dursleys…

"Well, back to topic." He changed the subject with a shake of his head and frowned at Hermione's thoughtful look. "Lupin and Moody didn't say anything about me having presents. I suppose the packets simply got lost on the way. Thank you, though, for thinking of it." He threw Ron a look of interest.

"Shit." The redhead looked exceptionally crumpled. "Do you think it will turn up sometime?"

"Don't know. What was it?" Harry asked grinning.

"I'm not telling you." Ron shook his head vehemently. "Maybe I get you a new one. It was really great, though."

"Well." Harry seemed unsure how to response. "I thank you then, but you don't have to get me anything else. Just tell me what it would have been."

"No, I don't think so." Ron scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I want you to have it." He blinked across to Hermione, who smiled secretively back at him.

"Now I'm really curious." Harry went further in his investigation. He might not give much about presents, but it was nice to have friends, who gave him some, nevertheless – Harry always had problems how to react when the scarce case came true. He stopped abruptly and looked at the scenery that floated past the window. Heaving a deep breath, he called his friends' attention to the station, which was rapidly falling behind.

"We're moving." Harry smiled imperceptibly. Finally! Warmth spread through his body, and for just a moment the joy of anticipation made him forget everything else that pressed him down.

"It's about time," Ron said passionately. "I thought they'd keep the train there for ever." Harry raised his brows.

"You were just a wee bit early to board the Express." His brows furrowed. "By the way, I didn't see your family."

"I and Hermione had agreed to meet early, lest we might miss you." Ron grimaced. "Ginny wanted to say goodbye to her friend and the others weren't ready by then, though, mom was really crazy to see you safe and sound. She said to write as soon as we arrive at Hogwarts." Harry grinned. At least some people cared whether he lived. His eyes widened when everything Ron had said had met his awareness.

"Ginny has a friend?" Maybe the last furtive glances he had received last year would stop now, too.

"He's a Muggle." Ron announced with a stupid grin. "Dad's really enthusiastic about him; and the twins are even more excited, because now they have a new test victim – and he can't do anything." Ron was in awe.

"I like him, but Mom's a bit reserved. I don't think it's because Tore is Muggle, though. It's just that it's her Ginny, you know? The only daughter and her baby and all that emotional stuff." Uncaring he popped a new frog in his mouth.

"Tore?" Harry questioned. Another guy with a strange name coming from nowhere. He could feel a tighter knot forming in his stomach.

"Yeah. Tore van something. I don't know. They are from Sweden or so." He shrugged.

"How did Ginny got to know a Muggle?" Hermione looked questioningly up from her book.

"His little sister's a witch, and Dad went to introduce them to the Wizarding world. She's going to come to Hogwarts as a first year, and Ginny is mad with that guy." Ron's eyes gleamed. "We went with them to Diagon Alley and they brought a whole lot of sweets."

"Ah, that's were you got the frogs?" Harry thought aloud. "I was wondering."

"Oh, sorry." Ron swallowed. "Do you want some?" He opened a new box.

before he shook his head.

"No, Ron, thanks." Harry gave the half melted chocolate a doubtful glance. "I'll wait for the trolley."

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Hermione?" He held the whole bag of sweets right under her nose, but the girl just looked imploringly at the bag, then at Ron's chocolate covered hands and pulled a face.

"Thanks, but I decline." She pushed the bag away. "You shouldn't stuff yourself with so much unhealthy food, anyway. The feast isn't that far away." Ron just rolled his eyes and took the bag safely back and out of her reach before Hermione could get the idea to confiscate it.

"Well. His mother gave them to me this morning. She said I should have an eye on her little darling while she's at Hogwarts." Ron pulled a face.

"See that you do it." Hermione snapped her book shut.

"Of course," Ron was fast to agree, "but I don't think she's going to be in Gryffindor."

"That has nothing to do with your promise. You can look out for her, nevertheless. After all, you took the sweets, didn't you?" Hermione's eyes narrowed. Ron coughed with trepidation. Harry was amused. It was nice to see people with simple problems.

"Well—" Harry began, but was diverted from his thoughts the instant he felt a presence nearing their compartment – and stopping in front of the door. Harry did not know who it was, because he could not recognize the pulse of magic, yet; but whoever was lurking outside their compartment was sure to come in sooner or later.

He turned tiredly to the window, his senses alert, and waited. Closing his eyes, Harry thought he would like to sleep sometime soon if possible, but the door opened with a bang loud enough to get both of his friends jump up from their seats. Only Harry turned calmly to the door, pulling back his mind from the few happy memories he had, to find himself staring into the sneering face of one Draco Malfoy – together in package with thick and stupid. Sighing, He prepared himself for an argument with his only opponent he did not have to kill to survive – hopefully. Harry scowled darkly before he got his facial expression under control. Searching for some Gryffindor typical remarks to throw the arrogant boy at the head, Harry gathered his wits.

"Aren't you a bit early, Malfoy?" With the last remnants of strength Harry put a dissecting look on his face, he took in all of what presented a very unpleasant and repulsive character – and tried not to show his reaction to the aggressive, swirling magic all around him.

The magic reacted to the mood of their owners. Harry knew that, but to be between Ron and Malfoy, when both boys were ready to scratch the other's eyes out, was frightening in his weak state. Harry tried not to look at the whipping out tendrils – blue and white from Ron, moss green tinged with blue from Malfoy. Malfoy was not as strong as Ron, but with a lot more conscious control and the knowledge and determination to use what was his. Looking calm and relaxed at the outside, Harry found himself shuddering between them. He had to end it fast. Breathing deeply, he concentrated on what Malfoy had to contribute to their conversation.

"Well, see who is here," the cold voice dripped with loathing, "Saint Scarhead, his weasel, and a frizzy horsetooth."

Harry's eyes narrowed, as he silently acknowledged his rival and kept a strong grip on Ron at the same time to avoid that the beet red boy stormed forward and got himself into trouble before the start of school.

"Malfoy, you are a way behind – as always." Harry sighed theatrically to put in a good show. "If you haven't noticed, Hermione's teeth look great. Ron's not related to the ferret family – as some others we know, and I, well, of course I'm a saint, but even a blinded chicken lays eggs, doesn't it, Malfoy."

"I wonder…," Harry calmly considered without giving away his need for haste, "did you need the whole summer to come up with the nice… comments?" Harry continued thoughtfully before Malfoy could get a word in through his clenched jaw.

"We have just started. You should have taken the whole train ride to think about more forthcoming insults." Harry pointedly ignored the desire to kill that flashed in the elegantly clothed boy's eyes.

Harry noticed Hermione, who held her wand tightly clasped. Her expression was determined and she had taken hold of Ron on the other side. The redhead seemed to want nothing more than jump into Malfoy's face.

"I suggest you take your doormats with you and go on someone else's nerves. Maybe you find someone interested in your opinion among the first years." Slowly Harry took a step forward and pushed Ron back in the same move. His hands tingled where he touched his friend.

"I swear, Malfoy," Harry said outwardly calm, standing only inches from the boy, "you don't want to mess with me." Malfoy backed up with confusion written all over his face, and Harry followed him. He held his own wand ready and an eye on Malfoy's cronies, lest they thought something up in the thick skulls of them.

"There'll be a few changes this year Malfoy, and you'd be better off staying far away from me and anyone I'm with." It was just for an instant that Malfoy lost his superior pureblood attitude before the boy's eyes glinted in defiance and his arrogance popped back full force. His, in some ways, really pretty face formed an ugly sneer.

"You're one to talk, Potter." Malfoy spit his name with more loathing than Harry was used to hear even from Snape. "Don't you want to tell your sidekicks of your summer activity?" Harry frowned. Malfoy could not know anything worthwhile. Everyone who had been there was dead, except Tom of course; but Tom could hardly talk to anyone other than Harry. It could be that some family friend had told Malfoy beforehand what was planned to happen, though. Whatever. Harry grinned coldly.

"Don't break a twig to think. That's of no worry for your poorblooded highness." He tilted his head as if thinking. "I take it your dear auntie didn't tell you what was going on? Trixie was her name, wasn't it?"

Harry smirked knowingly. Lestrange had not liked him calling her that. "You didn't see her for a while, did you? Is she still alive? Do you know? I'm sure she wouldn't just comply into being locked away like your precious father has done. How is your high esteemedlordling by the way? Doing good? Are you allowed to visit him, Malfoy? And did you tell him that you haven't learnt anything from past experiences? That you are still a failed attempt of something he can't ever get out of his genes. Really a pity, if you ask me," Harry said regretfully. He felt the magic even before he saw it blindly reaching out in all directions like a wild, rabid beast of prey. He stopped talking to give the other boy a moment to get back his control, lest he himself would be drawn from its powers.

"Pity yourself, Potter, you've every reason to." Malfoy eyed him in distain.

"Oh, I didn't pity you, Malfoy, if you haven't listened I pitied your ability to learn and to think for yourself. Or should I say inability?" Harry assessed him with raised brows like he had seen Snape doing when the man went on about Harry's attention seeking.

"Say Potter," Malfoy asked sweetly, "did you like being fucked by the Dark Lord?" The blonde's lips drew back and gave way to two rows of pearl white teeth, his whole being gloated with inappropriate mirth.

Harry's grip tightened at Ron's shirt in an attempt to suppress the fury, which rose up deep from the inside. Every thought in Harry stopped. He concentrated all his might to keep his cool, and then he saw Ron's magic reaching out. Harry's eyes widened in alarm. He could not hear Ron bellowing badly aimed insults above the wild roar the magic let loose in the tiny compartment. That would not do. He would need to find a way for Ron to get that ugly amount of temper in check, Harry thought practically. Merlin! It was frightening – and it hurt like hell where he held a raging Ron back. It was like gripping with his hand in liquid fire. Instinctively Harry pulled back only to have Ron coming forward like a bullet to beat Malfoy to the ground.

"Ron!" Harry gritted his teeth and gripped his friend again. He could not understand why Ron was always that physical. Was he not grown up in a Wizarding family? Even together with Hermione Harry had problems to restrain him. Harry felt the energy climbing to a new high. It was hard to breath and he desperately wanted to open the door. It was sad that his friend would probably never forgive him if he spelled him dead to the world in front of Malfoy. He had to get Ron to listen without Malfoy drawing conclusions. Taking hold of his own emotions, Harry turned to a satisfied Malfoy.

"What you dream of in that empty head of yours doesn't interest anyone, Malfoy, so don't tell us fairy tales." Malfoy looked confused as did Ron for a moment, and Harry remembered that both of them did not know the concept fairy tales.

"Nobody is giving a knut for your fabricated bullshit." Harry translated, thinking fast. He could not take his friends' memories of what Malfoy had said, or he would have to take Malfoy's memories as well. Bad luck on his front, Harry thought fatalistically. He would think of a way to use it to his advantage. Such an traumatic experience could certainly come in handy when he had to explain away his changes in behavior.

Harry did not need to exert himself to feel the magic in the room increasing. He felt the tendrils of energy merging with one another. He felt the magic surging and fighting for dominance.

Hermione was watching him like a hawk. It would not be easy to get her away from the thought, now that the word 'rape' was planted in her mind already. She was certainly weighing all information, questioning herself already whether Harry had told the truth or not.

"Is it true?" she breathed out with a shudder. "What Malfoy said?"

One hundred points! Harry straightened. Curiosity poured out of her like water. She could not have not asked, but damn it – she could have waited until he had gotten that piece of shit out of their compartment, at least. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron's magic reaching out forcefully. It striked Malfoy and forced the other boy to react. Malfoy's lips twitched as if he was aware what was going on – on some gut level instinct.

"Care to tell, Potter?" The perfidious look Malfoy sent him let cold fury burn in Harry's eyes. He did not like Malfoy and his attitude. He did not like that boy at all. One word at the wrong time and Harry's plan would evaporate to dust. He would not let him go any further than that.