A/N: thanks so much for the review everyone! I really appreciate it! Here's the next chapter and unfortunately it's going to be the last for a while. I have school and stuff to deal with for a few more weeks, but that won't stop me from working on my ff's, just from actually posting them here. Thank you so much again for your reviews harry-an-ginny, Ashi and vampiregirl08. again, I appreciate it much! This chapter may be a little over-dramatic...but practice makes perfect and so do review...right? Constructive criticizm...just like CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Or...maybe not. Same ideals, though. Erm...back to reality. Please enjoy!
Chapter Three: The Burrow
A black-haired teenage boy laid on his bed staring up at the ceiling. His face was void of his usual round-rimmed glasses, but his legendary lightning-bolt scar remained just visible beneath his messy bangs. He had not been able to sleep since he'd arrived his aunt and uncle's house; partially because his best friends, Ron and Hermione, kept asking him the same questions over and over again, ("Are you feeling alright?" "Dyou want something to eat?") and partially because he knew he'd be far from the horridly over-cleaned house in a few hours time, enjoying the last peaceful, careless day on earth. When he had fallen asleep for the better part of half an hour, he'd only dreamt of ways he could murder Snape by the cruelest possible means when he met him.
His room was the cleanest it had ever been in two years, mainly because his two best friends were staying for the night. Hedwig's cage was open, but lacked the snowy-white owl and her droppings that usually went along with it. His trunk was still neatly packed sitting by his bedroom door from arriving earlier that day (he hadn't wanted to pack it again) and there were three more boxes that held whatever little-else he possessed. Ron and Hermione had helped him pack and, he checked his bed-side alarm-clock, they would help him leave in a little over and hours time, leaving nothing behind. The Dursleys still had no idea that they were leaving so early, but Lupin had agreed to meet them at the house and get them to the Burrow at two in the morning.
"Harry?" came a quiet voice from beside his bed. As he looked over, he saw Hermione's silhouette sit up.
"Hmmm?" he asked, a bit irritated that she had interrupted his train of thought.
"You should get some sleep, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow," she softly said, trying to be heard above Ron's snores, but not so loud that she would wake him.
"If you keep telling me that, I'll never have a chance to sleep."
She hesitated for a moment, but continued as if he hadn't said anything, "I know there must be a lot of thought going through your mind, Harry, but you have to try and get some rest before Lupin comes."
He didn't answer her. He felt numb, void of any emotion except pure hatred toward Snape. It seemed as if hate was the only feeling he'd ever known.
"Harry?" she asked.
He rolled over on his side toward the wall away from her. He knew it was a rude gesture, but he didn't very much care at the moment.
As much as he appreciated the thought, Harry hadn't wanted Ron and Hermione with him on his quest for the horcruxes. If either on of them were hurt or killed, he'd never be able to forgive himself. That's why, after the wedding was over, he was planning to slip out of the Burrow, drop his things off at Grimmauld Place and head to Godric's Hollow by himself. He didn't want anyone else he cared for to become a result of Voldemort's wrath.
He heard somebody move behind him and immediately knew it was Ron when he started talking.
"Lupin," he muttered.
Harry turned around to find Ron sitting up.
"What?" he whispered, despite the face he already knew what was said.
"Lupin," he murmured again, this time standing up and looking out of the window.
"Not only does he talk in his sleep, but he walks as well," Hermione irritably muttered, sitting up to watch Ron.
"Ron, go back to bed bef..." Harry started as a loud Crack echoed throughout Private Drive, shattering the silence with a car alarm, sounds of Mrs. Figg's angry cats and the barking of dogs, "Brilliant," Harry muttered, but so the others couldn't hear. He frowned, "How'd you..." he started, but was interrupted this time by Hermione.
"It doesn't matter how he knew Lupin was coming, Harry!" she whispered as if she were trying to get a very exciting bit of gossip out without being too loud about it, "It matters that he's an hour early!"
Harry turned his frown her way, "Why does that matter?" he asked, thinking he was glad Lupin had come early.
"Because I'm not ready!" she quietly exclaimed.
Harry rolled his eyes and threw his legs over the side of his bare bed. He peered down at his naked ankles and thought, I definantly need new cloths. His regular clothes he went out in where much too baggy for him, as they used to be Dudley's, but his pajamas...it was a wonder to him how he ever got them on in the first place. He'd had them since he was ten and now that he was nearing seventeen...
He quickly pulled his top off, tearing it in the process, opened his trunk and pulled out a shirt that was close to his size, ignoring Hermione's squeak of surprise and groan of irritation as she buried her face into her pillow.
"What?" he asked, pulling his P.J. bottoms off and grabbing jeans that were his size, "There's nothing here for you to see."
She looked at him when he'd finished, "You didn't have to change in front of me without warning first!" she said in a quiet voice.
He held a finger up to his lips, listening intently. Sure enough, Uncle Vernon was muttering curses under his breath and the high-pitched squeaking was unmistakably their old, rusting bed. Vernon was getting up to yell at Harry for a noise he hadn't made.
"Lay down," he loudly whispered as he himself layed down, facing away from the door, "Pretend you're asleep," he whispered as Ron, whether or not by accident, obeyed.
Harry listened as his uncle grumbled, stomping down the hall and jumped only slightly when he banged the door open.
"NOW SEE HERE!" he began, clearly not noticing none of them seemed to be awake, muchless aware enough to set off a large sound, "I'LL NOT TOLLERATE..." he began again as Harry sat up and looked at his uncle, acting as if he'd just woken up.
"What is it, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked, noticing Ron and Hermione also were pretending to wake from a deep sleep. Ron was loudly yawning, earning a disgusted lok from Aunt Petunia who's horsey face had just appeared over Vernon's porkey shoulder, and Hermione was stretching her arms and back.
"I know it was you, boy!" Vernon growled, looking about the room with a suspicious expression as if he might find something illegal, "It was that same ruckus we heard two summers ago when we found you lurking in the garden 'listening to the news' as you so called it."
Petunia gravely nodded her head in agreement as if the crime should be punishable by death.
"Well we haven't done anything," Harry said a little too forcefully.
Vernon glared at him, "Don't you..." he started in a quiet, threatening voice.
"We...didn't...DO IT!" Harry bellowed, only being able to think that he'd be on his way to the Burrow right now if the Dursley's hadn't heard Lupin.
"YOU KNOW YOU RUDDY WELL DID WITH THAT STICK OF YOURS!" Vernon yelled back.
"IT'S CALLED APPARATION AND YOU DON'T DO IT WITH A MAGICAL WAND," he said, stressing the words "magical" and "wand", giving Ron and Hermione something to laugh about when his aunt and uncle flinched. But at the moment Hermione had her hands over her ears and was muttering something incomprehensible.
"Just because you want to blame Harry for everything doesn't mean he does it," Ron hesitantly interjected, first looking at Harry, then looking up at Uncle Vernon as if he were the stupidest thing on the planet.
His uncle swelled more than his normal size (if it were humanly possible, Harry inwardly chuckled,) and turned his normal shade of magenta before turning on his heel and stomping back to his bedroom, nearly knocking over Aunt Petunia in the process.
Petunia, to Harry's surprise, only gave him a curious expression before disappearing into the hallway, revealing, fat as ever, Dudley Dursley.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked Hermione as a silver otter protruded out of her wand tip.
"I'm making sure it's really Lupin," she said with a satisfied smile as her Patronus drifted past Dudley, who let out a terrified shriek but stayed where he was, and down the stairs, "For all we know, it could have just been someone from the Order keeping an eye on you, or it could have been a death eater."
"Snape," Harry automatically muttered, his insides burning and blistering with hatred.
Hermione looked at him thoughtfully, "Maybe."
Harry gaped at her, "You really think so?" he asked, disbelieving.
She shrugged and looked away, "We can't rule out any possibilities now days, can we?"
He shook his head.
"It's best not to doubt anymore," she quietly added, as if "doubt" had been her biggest luggery before.
Harry only looked up when a silver wolf drifted through the door, causing Dudley to squeak with fright again.
"What do you want?" Harry irritably asked, grudgingly acknowledging his cousin and pointing his wand toward him.
Dudley froze, his eyes wide as saucers, "If... if you do m...magic (he winced, to Ron's delight), I...I'll tell m...mum," he said, eyeing the wand.
"Running to mummy now, are we?" Harry asked as Ron pulled his own wand out for pure intimidation on Dudley's part. Hermione already had her own out from conjuring the Patronus.
Dudley looked at the other two, then back at Harry, then contorted his face into what he must've thought was a brave expression, because he took a step toward Harry (Ron raised his wand), and with a steady voice said, "I'll give you the old..." he began.
Harry jumped off his bed, startling Dudley and pointing his wand between his eyes, causing him to go cross-eyed, "Yeah? Think that'll work with three against one? You should consider yourself lucky you still have your mum to go cry to, Dudders. I'll give you your old pig's tail back if you don't shut up!" he angrily shot at him.
In truth, he'd never learned the spell to give someone a tail, but Duddykins didn't know that.
"Harry," Hermione said in a tight, quiet voice with a hint of warning.
Dudley took a large amount of air in as if he were going to yell something and turned a shade of red his father would have been proud of, but Harry was too quick.
"Langlock," he lazily muttered and, just as Peeves had done, Dudley clutched his throat and gave Harry a hand gesture that made Hermione gasp.
"Harry!" she hissed, "You're going to be in trouble for that! You're underage and you performed magic on a muggle!"
"I'd doubt if the ministry's concerned about underage magic, Hermione," Harry said, stowing his wand into his pocket and grabbing his invisibility cloak.
She continued as if he hadn't said anything, "Plus Dumbledore's not around anymore to bail you out..."
Harry froze, his heart beating madly. How could she say something like that in such a heartless, off-hand manner?
Ron cleared his throat, clearly telling Harry he knew where Hermione had gone wrong.
"Excuse me?" Harry asked her, coldness filling every crevice of his soul and voice.
She looked at him, "I only meant that..." she began.
"Only meant what?" Harry asked, dropping his cloak, "I'll tell you what it sounds like you meant, Hermione!" said Harry, his voice reaching a yelling level.
"Guys..." Ron quietly said.
They ignored him, "It sounded as though you don't care that Dumbledore is gone! As though his only purpose on this earth was to protect me from the ministry!"
"I only..." she tried again, close to tears. Harry didn't care.
"Guys..." Ron said more urgently.
"How respectful is that, Hermione? It sounds as though you have no respect what-so-ever for Dumbledore!" he yelled into her face, triumphantly watching the tears spill down her cheeks.
"And I'd hardly consider calling him by only his last name as respectful," came a calm voice by Harry's bedroom door, making him spin on his hell away from Hermione.
"Lupin," he began.
He chuckled, "Rowing? I suggest you two save it for the Burrow, we don't need that burden upon us while we travel."
Harry glared at Hermione before picking his cloak up. He watched as Lupin waved his wand and magically transferred their luggage and Harry's belongings to their destination.
"Hermione, you've passed your apparation test, I've heard?" Lupin asked.
She nodded, her face shining with tears. Harry felt a pang of guilt, but it only lasted until Hermione gave him a nasty glare.
"Alright, Harry and Ron, hold onto my arms, I trust Hermione can make it on her own."
Harry grabbed his right arm and Ron his left and after a moment of being compressed he found himself, with his heart bursting with such joy he hadn't felt in a very, very long time, standing outside of the one place he knew he could find refuge.
The Burrow.
