Uncle Vernon wasn't waiting for Harry when he disembarked. No surprise there. He quickly did his level best to disappear into the crowd of hugging, relieved parents and happy children, eager to tell them what had occurred. He vaguely heard Hermione, in her loud voice, asking, "Where's Harry?"
Harry was already some fifteen odd clumps away, sliding his way towards the Muggle exit by jigs and haws. Emerging from the Magical to the muggle was an abrupt change, and he paused for a moment to catch his breath, enjoying the sense of freedom that not having to worry about bumping into a dozen different personalities gave.
Too long.
Hermione and her parents came bustling out, and Harry found himself wanting to run. "So this is the chap you've been telling us about?" Hermione's father said.
Harry gulped, but before he could really think of anything to say, Hermione's mum burst over him, "Oh, isn't he just the cutest thing!? Hermione, love, you didn't tell me he was so adorable!"
"Mu-um!" Hermione said, and it was in her drill sergeant voice, "Can't you see you're embarrassing him?"
Hermione's mother turned an unrepentant grin back at her daughter, "That's what parents are for!"
"Wouldn't know," Harry said shortly, directing a firm stare at both her parents.
"I suppose not," said Hermione's father, as her mother looked at a loss for words.
"I should be going," Harry said firmly, "Hermione, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure it's a good idea to call me. My relations can be touchy about privacy."
"Even for a school friend?" Hermione's mother said disapprovingly.
"Especially for this school, rather," Harry said, "They don't quite trust me, particularly after my untimely outburts, to choose friends of the right sort."
"Honestly!" Hermione's mother said, a bit shocked, "How could anyone think our daughter was not the right sort?"
"They're just generalizing from me, madam," Harry said with a whimsically twisted smile. "Nothing to do with your daughter's character."
Hermione looked at him, then nodded, once, "If you can, write. I'd love to hear from you."
"You won't write back?" Harry asked, his eyes searching.
"I'll write tons!" Hermione said, and at Harry's disapproving look, "but I won't send one red word. You can read them all when you get back to school."
Harry couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing in sheer relief.
Finding his Uncle was a difficult matter, with a chest that was nearly as long as he was (and he'd grown since the year started, he was sure of it). His uncle merely opened the boot, and kept talking with Aunt Petunia, who was in the front seat.
"Here, let me help you with that!" Dudley said, and Harry's heart sank. That always meant trouble, when Dudley bestirred himself to help.
"Let him wrestle that thing in alone," Aunt Petunia said firmly to Dudley, "I won't have you hurting your back on lifting that ridiculous chest."
That set Uncle Vernon off on the unnaturalness of Harry, Hogwarts, and chests in general. Uncle Vernon wasn't fond enough of the TV to listen to historical dramas that would clearly have displayed those chests as mere historical curiosities, not at all magical in the slightest.
Harry finally wrestled his chest into the boot, and then squeezed himself into the space between Dudley and the cardoor. Uncle Vernon very deliberately pulled out before Harry had the door rightly closed. In response, Harry deliberately opened the door into traffic (taking care not to actually hit another car).
Privet Drive looked so small, and cramped, and grass-green. Harry missed Hogwarts, suddenly, mostly the library - there were worlds beyond measure. Here, he was in a village so tiny that everyone knew his name. Knew that he was the odd boy.
Mrs. Cooper, the lady next door, greeted them, "Is that boy of yours back from his school?"
Aunt Petunia smiled, and said, "Yes, and he's much improved. Houliganism isn't tolerated at St. Brutus' School for the Criminally Inclined."
Harry could recognize a cue when he saw it, bowing and saying, "Yes, ma'am. Happy to be home again." He directed a cheerfully large grin at the neighbor woman.
Mrs. Cooper shuddered, "Even his smiles look odd. You say he's been reformed."
"Of course he has!" Aunt Petunia says. "In fact, I bet if you asked, he'd be delighted to mow your law this summer. You'll have to pay for the petrol yourself, of course."
Mrs. Cooper nodded, "I'm not sure if I trust him with my beloved roses, but I suppose he'd have trouble hurting the lawn."
Uncle Vernon grinned, "Then it's decided." He looked over at Harry and said, "No funny business, mind."
[a/n: Many stories have Harry doing things while in the Muggle world. Uncle Vernon needs to have a "what is Harry doing" in order that Harry doesn't get beat for shirking his chores. In Uncle Vernon's world, Harry is not allowed to be doing anything except chores. Ever.
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