SANCTUARY

Chapter 9: The Burrow

Harry was having his favorite dream again. With a storm brewing in the distant clouds, he and Hermione walked hand in hand on the grainy shore. She was beautiful and smiling, her dark eyes gleaming as loose ringlets of hair tossed around her shoulders in the breeze. Harry felt himself smiling too, digging into the shore with his feet as black bangs tossed across his forehead. In the dream though, there was no scar upon his brow. It was just Hermione and him, together, happy. On the crest of a sand dune in the distance, Harry could see a little shack. It was a quaint little place, two stories tall with many windows facing the waves. About it, Snuffles happily chased Crookshanks, barking madly as Hermione chuckled from beside him. Soon, they had stopped strolling to look out across the horizon, taking deep inhales of the salty air as the beam of a lighthouse flashed in the distance. Isn't it beautiful Harry? Hermione's voice was soft, stolen by the wind as Harry pulled her closer to him. We must be dreaming. Harry, it's time to wake up.

"Harry? Harry, wake up," Hermione's voice cut through the haze of the dream as Harry's eyes fluttered open. She was leaning over him, a soft smile on her upturned lips, eyes gleaming. I must still be dreaming. Harry thought to himself, resisting the urge to reach up and tuck a ringlet of Hermione's hair behind her ear. How did I ever get so lucky to have such a pretty best friend? "You fell asleep,"

"Mm, wha?" Harry yawned and shifted, sitting up in the back seat of Mr. Weasley's car and ruffling his hair, "where are we?"

"The countryside, Harry," Hermione answered, stroking Crookshanks ears as the flying car banked slightly left, "I didn't realize how late its gotten,"

Blinking and knitting his eyebrows, Harry realized that Hermione was right. As always. The evening horizon was just beginning to fade into navy, casting a bright orangish glow across everything. We cant possibly travel now, it'll be dark by the time we get there. Harry thought, rubbing his forehead unconsciously as his lips downturned, we have to find a place to stay.

"I guess we'll just have to find the closest town," Harry mumbled finally, glancing at Mr. Weasley who was either ignoring the conversation on purpose in order to listen in, or was simply blissfully engrossed in the softly playing radio, "uhm, excuse me Mr. Weasley. Is there a town close to where were going?"

"Hmm?" Mr. Weasley glanced up from his own daydreaming, looking at Harry in the rearview mirror with his icicle eyes. Staring into them, Harry knitted his brows. Mr. Weasley knows something. Harry thought, curling a lip slightly. His stare was too knowing, too curious to simply be oblivious. I'll have to talk it over with Hermione later. "A town you say? Yes, a few miles down the road,"

"Would you be able to point us in the correct direction when we land?"

"Certainly. But don't you think its a bit dark out for two children to be traveling alone?"

"We're not alone, sir," Hermione spoke up finally, "we have Snuffles,"

There was a noise from the snoozing black dog as Mr. Weasley chuckled lightly, but soon halted as his eyes once again landed in the rearview mirror. Yep. Harry concluded to himself, reaching out to squeeze Hermione's hand. He definitely knows something. It was strange really, ever since leaving London, Harry had a sense of distrust for everyone around him besides Hermione. They all knew his name, talked about him like he was something special, something that mattered. And if this Dumbledore person was as important as Hermione said he was, then no doubt all of England knew of his search for the run away Harry Potter. Harry couldn't let them get caught, not now, or there was a chance he would never see Hermione again. Her memory would be wiped and she wouldn't ever remember him. He couldn't, no, wouldn't let that happen to her. Glancing up from his thoughts, Hermione had managed to get Mr. Weasley to drop the subject of their journey. He was now blabbing on about muggles instead,

"I love the things muggles create, you know. Being able to live without magic, its completely extraordinary. Are you both muggleborn then?"

Mr. Weasleys question was curious, but also sounded a bit confused as his carrot colored eyebrows knitted in the rearview mirror. I'll have to talk to Hermione about that later, too. My 'talk with Hermione' list is getting long.

"Yes sir. Our family isn't particularly fond of the Wizarding world. It doesn't even exist to them," Hermione explained, though only Harry understood the hidden meaning in the words, "but Harry and I our enjoying ourselves so far. It was our first day in Diagon Alley,"

Hermione continued to happily prattle on about the amazing day they had - minus a few furious relatives and running away from a bearded wizard and a cat lady, of course. And to Harry's amazement, she managed to distract Mr. Weasley the entire ride. Harry loved how confidant his best friend was now. She practically glowed with curious youthfulness, and her intelligence shined through at the most convenient of times. She didn't look small any more, and stood with a straightness and proudness in herself Harry couldn't even seem to comprehend. Hermione had changed, and it made Harry love her even more. It had only been a day, maybe even a little less, since they started on their bloody insane adventure, and already it was paying off. They had wands, real wands which they could do real magic with. And Harry...well, he had Hermione by his side. That was enough for him. All I have to do is convince Hermione to let down her hair.

"Ah, there's my humble shack," Mr. Weasley announced, drawing Harry from his thoughts as both he and Hermione glanced out the windows. They were indeed approaching a house, but it wasn't like anything Harry had ever seen before. It's base looked like any regular house, but on top of it were many different odd extensions. Some were big, others small, and the house looked as if it would topple over any minute. It must be magic. Harry thought to himself, staring in wonder at the strange building. I wonder how many people live there?

"Ah yes, we've lived here in the country since I married my wife. It's quite beautiful, don't you think?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Weasley. Your house is amazing,"

"Why thank you, Hermione. We made it ourselves. Hold on now, coming in for landing,"

Grasping onto Harry as the car jostled, Snuffles rolled over, awoken from his nap as his dark eyes gazed about intently. Meanwhile, Crookshanks continued to doze on, not really bothered by the movement of the vehicle. Finally, there was bumping as four tires made contact with the ground, and they were once again driving like any normal automobile. Parking, Mr. Weasley turned and smiled,

"Here were are. Now out, you merry lot."

Nodding, Harry scrambled from the backseat, helping Hermione out as well as she fell slightly, disoriented from the flight. In her arms, Crookshanks happily snoozed away still, and Snuffles patrolled the dirt drive, sniffing the earth curiously.

"We made it, Harry," Hermione breathed happily, brushing herself off and adjusting the cloak around her shoulders, "isn't it fantastic?"

"I've never been so far from London before," Harry admitted, "come on, we should get going, before it gets completely dark-"

"Arthur Weasley!"

The voice which cut through the night air was shrill, piercing almost as Harry and Hermione whipped around to see a pleasantly pudgy, short, red haired woman coming towards them. On her face was a scowl, and in her hand was a spoon. Blinking, Harry cried out slightly as something was suddenly smeared across his forehead by Hermione,

"What are you doing?"

"Hiding your scar,"

Shaking the mud off her fingers, Hermione ducked behind Harry as the woman stopped and placed two hands on her hips. Her focus was on Mr. Weasley, who was merely smiling with his hands in the pockets of his cloaks,

"You, Mr. Weasley, were supposed to be back hours ago. I sent you out for groceries. Not to play about with your flying-"

Mr. Weasley didn't let the woman finish as he jerked his head in their direction, causing the woman to turn. Her face was one of bewilderment, before her expression softened and she turned to Mr. Weasley again, "what is this?"

"Picked this lot up at the alley, love. Hermione and Harry Granger. They needed a ride,"

"And what are two children doing without supervision?"

"Traveling, I believe,"

"Traveling?" the woman, Mrs. Weasley If Harry understood correctly, appeared appalled, "without parents?"

"They have familiars to guide them. But," Mr. Weasley turned to Harry and lifted a brow, "I heard something about you not having a place to stay?"

Harry blinked and nodded his head,

"No sir, we were just going to find the nearest town-"

"That's miles down the road, dearie," Mrs. Weasley breathed, "children shouldn't be traveling alone at night. No, I simply wont allow it. You'll stay here at the Burrow,"

"Oh no, ma'am," Hermione spoke up, shaking her head with a wild look towards Harry, "we don't want to be a bother-"

"A bother? Nonsense. We have plenty of extra rooms. Now, we'll get some dinner into you both, and then off to bed, is that understood? I won't take no for an answer,"

Glancing at Hermione, Harry could only shrug and take her hand with a small smile. Whistling slightly, Snuffles returned to the group, and Crookshanks made a tired mew as Mrs. Weasley smiled crookedly, "come on you lot. Inside, before you catch cold,"

Following the red haired woman into the odd looking house, Harry couldn't help but gape at it. The main room was cozy and warm, the walls and floor covered in mismatched carpets and furniture. Nothing matched, it seemed. Against one wall, a fireplace blazed warmly, and off to the side, a large dining table disappeared into the kitchen. "go ahead and take off your cloaks, loves and have a seat at the table. I'll put some stew on for the both of you,"

Glancing at one another again, Harry unclipped his cloak, white Hermione let Crookshanks out of her arms to do the same. The familiar woolen weight had become comfortable, and Harry felt significantly lighter, and a bit more exposed without it around his shoulders. But taking Hermione's hand and sitting down at the table, Harry glanced up as there was the sound of several closing doors and footsteps.

"How many people do you think live here, Harry?" Hermione questioned, glancing up too as Harry shrugged and patted Snuffles, who's head had come to rest in his lap,

"Dunno. But I think we're about to find out,"