Thanks for the reviews, all. I love them. I'm continuing for now, but I'm unsure that's wise. If you've got an opinion either way--continue or stop--I'd love to hear it.
And in case it isn't clear: I don't own anything beyond the Arthur family, Abby, Byron, and Eliana. And to my chagrin, I'm not making any money.
A House in the Woods
"Anna—Anna! Anna!" Eliana's voice shot above the odd silence in the hallway, then was submerged by muttering voices. Harry and I had walked into Hogwarts Monday afternoon after filing the last of our paperwork. It was done: we hadn't had a wedding, really, but we were married. Harry's grip tightened on my hand, and I could feel his smooth wedding band, warm from his skin.
Literally hundreds of students filled the hallway, many at a dead stop with their friends, staring at the healer and the war hero. "We're making a scene." I muttered. Harry squeezed my hand again.
"Don't worry," he said quietly, moving to put his hand on the small of my back and usher me toward the stairs. The gentle pressure of his hand got me moving. One foot in front of the other, Arthur—wait, it's Potter now. Oh my.
"Anna!" Eliana arrived in front of us, panting, the longsuffering Andrew Boot in tow. He shifted nervously. Eliana rocked on to the balls of her feet, excited. "You got married?"
The hallway around us fell quiet in a wave as students hushed each other to hear the answer. I looked over the group and fought the urge to roll my eyes. Harry stepped forward beside me.
"Yes, we're married." He said, clearly for the benefit of the group. He slid his hand back into mine. A rustle passed through the crowd all the way back to the stairs.
"So you're staying?" A voice called from the middle of the group. I squinted into the mass of uniforms, trying to figure out who spoke. "It was me." The voice continued, and the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team waved his long arm in the air. I nodded at him.
"Yes, I'm staying at Hogwarts." I said loudly. Another rustle passed to the back of the hallway. Silence fell again, and no one moved. I had a flash vision of all of us continuing to stand here in the hallway, staring at one another, until night fell. "You do still have lessons this afternoon." I nagged. The noise level in the hall rose to normal, and the crowd started to move. Eliana hitched her school bag back up on her shoulder and said goodbye, splitting ways with Andrew Boot a few steps away from us. Harry's hand returned to my back, and we made our way to the stairs.
Byron flew at Harry the moment we entered my quarters. He put his paws on Harry's shoulders and licked his face, whining with excitement. Harry attempted to guard his glasses from the onslaught with one arm and tried to pry Bryon off of him with the other.
"Something you two aren't telling me?" I teased. At my voice, Byron leapt off of Harry and ran to me, upsetting a small table on the way. Harry took off his glasses and wiped them on his sleeve after dragging the cuff over his face. "Did he do any permanent damage?" I asked, chuckling.
"I'm going to have nightmares." Harry said dryly. Byron had rolled on his back, his feet pedaling in the air. Harry grinned at him.
"Aw, you'll hurt his feelings," I cooed, scratching Byron's belly. He shot out happy puffs of air. Harry shook his head, still grinning. I'd arranged for a week away from Hogwarts. It wasn't much of a honeymoon, but it was close enough under the circumstances. Besides, it'd take at least a week to figure out where we would live, and whether we'd have a wedding or reception—or anything. And it might take most of a week for me to get up the bravery to introduce Harry to Jack. My stomach rolled a little. If there's one thing you can count on in the Arthur family, it's overreacting. I was nervous.
"Anna." Harry began, turning from the window to face me again. "I thought we could stay at my house, first. We don't have to stay there—but the press won't leave us alone in London."
"I hadn't thought of that." I stood to join him by the window. Outside the kids were practicing on the pitch.
"I'm sure there's at least one story by now." He muttered. "But we can keep them from getting photographs."
"Do you not want people to know?" I tried to ask with a level voice.
"Anna, no." Harry said firmly, turning to look at me. "They won't report the truth." He sighed, looking up for a moment. "Hermione told you about Rita Skeeter?" I searched my brain. "During the Triwizard Tournament," Harry prompted. Oh yes. That awful reporter.
"Hermione said she lied about you." I began. Harry scowled.
"She lied about Hermione." He cut in, his voice tense. "She wrote things that still come up, even now."
"Harry," I began, trying to reassure him.
"No, Anna. I won't have them printing things about you." He set his jaw.
"Harry." I cut in. "I'm not a kid; Hermione was." I met his eyes. He let out a slow breath. His face suddenly looked weary.
"I want a week without them." He said quietly.
"Then let's go home before they figure out where we are." I concluded. I gave him a swift peck on the lips and felt the beginnings of his smile. Less than an hour later we were in the woods again, with Byron, walking toward Harry's house.
Byron immediately shot upstairs like he owned the place. I let out a surprised noise, but Harry laughed. "Don't," he said, as I turned to follow Byron and get him under control. "You live here." Impulsively, I latched onto his neck, grinning. He pulled the tie out of my hair and threw it across the room.
"Harry," I complained. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked down at me. He flipped my hair into my face. I let go of him to bat it away. "Hey," I scolded. He did it again. "Harry!"
"Is there a problem, Anna?" He smirked.
"Yes," I exclaimed. "You!"
"You don't mind," he said surely, pushing the hair from my face and kissing me deeply. I held onto him, happy with the feel of his arms around my ribs. Byron came flying down the stairs with something bright red in his mouth. I sprang out of Harry's arms and grappled for him.
"Byron!" I hollered. He executed a sloppy turn on the slick floor, nearly losing traction entirely. I put my hand down at the level of his mouth. "Here." I commanded. Byron obligingly put his muzzle on my hand, but tried to tug back when I grabbed the red thing. "No, Byron." I said sharply, finally prying the object loose. I held it up, grimacing at the layer of slobber.
"It's a bone." Harry contributed. I squinted at it.
"It's knitted?" I wondered aloud. "It is; it's knitted."
"Gryffindor colors, too." Harry mused. "I think it's Byron's, Anna." Harry concluded. I nodded.
"But if you don't know how it got here…"
"Then it was probably Dobby." Harry said with certainty. I frowned.
"All right, I guess." I tossed it across the floor, sending Byron skittering happily. I wiped my hands on my jeans with a look of slight disgust. He must've been chewing on it a while. "Wonder where he found it."
"Let's look." Harry said, ushering me toward the stairs. I shook back the momentary nervousness at passing the threshold into the private areas of Harry's house. Our house, I reminded myself. We came to the top of the stairs, where a large bedroom and sitting area were set up under the pitched roof. A door at the far wall led to what I assumed was the bathroom. The honey-colored wood in the entire space seemed to shine in the light from the sunset, which was clearly visible from large dormer windows. I wandered over to the windows, struck again by the view.
"Do you like it?" Harry's voice carried to me. I turned to see him standing awkwardly by the stair railing. I stretched my arm out to him, gulping back a sudden lump in my throat. He wanted me here. He actually did. It wasn't duty. He walked toward me, taking my hand first, then curling an arm around my back. I leaned my head against his shoulder.
"I love it." I said quietly. I felt his breath even out as we stood watching the slow sunset. I could hear Byron lolling on the floor behind us. Eventually, Harry stirred.
"Dobby brought Byron's bed." Harry said. I turned and followed his gaze. Sure enough, the multicolored bed rested at the foot of the large bed. I smiled. Beside it was a small basket of knitted toys in the shapes of muggle dog toys.
"Look," I said happily, pointing at the basket. I walked to it, and Harry followed. Byron immediately sat in front of us, his tail thumping the floor. Harry plucked a toy from the basket, an odd look on his face.
"I think it's a snitch," he said. I looked at the odd ball of gold yarn in his hands. Harry gave it an experimental toss. To our visible surprise the knitted toy sprouted tiny wings and skittered excitably across the floor. Byron flailed after it, barely making progress on the wooden floor. The snitch began to speed up and gain altitude.
"Harry," I worried, grabbing momentarily at his forearm.
"Don't worry," he assured me, taking off in the direction of the toy. The snitch sped upward and lingered at the peak of the roof. Byron circled on the floor beneath it, barking happily.
"What now?" I asked Harry, who'd also come to a stop beneath the toy. I had a flash vision of the snitch dive bombing us in our sleep. Not exactly conducive to romance. I saw Harry attempt to summon it, his brow wrinkling when it didn't work.
"Er…" he trailed off, backing away from the toy to watch it bash itself against the rafters. "Perhaps Dobby could…" He trailed off again when the snitch dove. Harry and Byron leapt at it, both landing perilously close to the staircase. I gasped, my wand out to shoot a levitation spell at them. The snitch put on a burst of speed and trapped itself near one of the windows. I hurried toward it.
"There has to be a way," I paused jumping at the toy, "to shut it off." I leapt again, falling far short.
"It has a height advantage," Harry laughed behind me.
"You hush," I scolded, frowning at the snitch as it headed for the rafters again. "How'd he think a dog would ever get it up there?"
"I think it's malfunctioning." Harry said, rummaging in a closet. He emerged holding a broomstick.
"Oh no," I said forcefully. "You are not flying in here." He raised his eyebrow at me, a challenging look on his face. "You'll break your neck."
"I won't." He countered.
"You could." I said stubbornly. He shifted his grip on the broom. "Please, Harry." I said, worried. He slowed. "Please?"
"All right," he sighed. He pushed his hands through his wild hair, making it stand up even more. Byron stood at attention, his tail raised. The snitch hovered at shoulder level, darting around the room.
"Maybe it'll shut itself off if we leave it." I said, only a little hopeful.
"We could try," Harry said dubiously.
"Let's do that." I said, trying to put a tone of finality in my voice. Harry nodded.
"There isn't much more to see," he noted. "Just the bathroom, really."
"And the back of the house." I added. "You said you went flying here."
"I do. But that doesn't require a garden." He smiled.
"I'd like to see it anyway, sometime." I said. Harry inclined his head, an indulgent grin on his face. "I'm going to snoop in your bathroom," I announced. His grin split into a full smile as I marched through the bathroom door.
