Part II
Making Connection s Day 1The grass had to be mowed and the garden had to be weeded – again. Both bathrooms had to be cleaned. Aunt Petunia wanted roast tonight, and that had to marinate for at least a few hours before being cooked, which had to be done an hour before dinner was to be ready. Sirius was not to be thought of. No matter how much it hurt. No matter how much of a betrayal it felt like not to. Harry Potter was responsible for a great deal worse things than just that. Not thinking about something was sometimes the only way to handle something. He'd learned that very early on.
So he dealt with the roast first, because it needed the most time. Then he headed outside. It was still early enough that it wasn't mind-boiling hot out yet. Best time to be done with the yard work. Then he could focus on the bathrooms when it was so hot out that being stuck scrubbing floors inside would seem blessedly cool.
After that, Aunt Petunia would hopefully be distracted enough with her television that he could nick the paper long enough to have a look through it. There had been no news of anything that sounded like Voldemort or his Death Eaters, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be soon. After all, a war was coming. And there was a prophecy to consider – but it was best not to think about that either. He'd tried thinking about it. Spent the first three weeks of summer vacation thinking of little else, but as much as he repeated it over and over again in his head, he still didn't know what to do about it.
He was using a small gardening shovel to get up those weeds, stabbing with a bit more force than was really necessary when he heard the doorbell ring. He paused. He was working in the backyard, so hopefully Aunt Petunia would just answer it. She wouldn't like him opening the door looking the way he did right now. Mowing and weeding the yard was dirt work, and he hadn't bothered trying to avoid it. He'd have to shower afterwards anyway.
The doorbell rang again.
Harry set down his shovel with a sigh and struggled up to his feet. His back was sore from being bent over for so long and he rubbed it as he started to walk around the house. It was probably just a salesman. Who cared if a salesman saw him covered in dirt and grass clipping? Anyone who actually did yard work would understand.
He hadn't rounded the corner yet when he heard the front door swing open. So Aunt Petunia had decided to answer it after all. Harry started to turn around but then he heard a girl's voice, with a very heavy accent. He frowned. That didn't sound like a salesman. Maybe it was someone interesting. A new neighbor, perhaps. The Dursleys would eventually tell them all kinds of horrible stories about him so that they'd hate him just as much as the Dursleys did, but that didn't mean Harry couldn't try to be nice. He'd been about to come around the corner when he heard the last question he had expected.
"Excuse me, madam," the girl asked. "But does Harry Potter live here?"
Harry's body froze, but his heart speed up so fast it almost hurt and his stomach seemed to have dropped to somewhere down by his knees.
"W-who?" Aunt Petunia stammered.
Harry swallowed slowly, and reached into his pocket. That was the one good thing about Dudley's castoffs – they had pockets big enough to hide a wand in easily.
"Harry Potter," the girl's voice repeated. "This is number four, Privet Drive, yes?"
No one should know he lived here. At least, not anyone outside of the Order, and Harry was certain that whoever that was, he'd never heard her voice before. It was possible one of the Order members might disguise themselves, but if they knew he lived here, why would they ask.
"You're some of those freaks, aren't you?" Aunt Petunia's voice had reached that ear-piercing shrill tone that she usually only saved for him. It was enough to make Harry wince from where he stood around the house. It had to be painful for whoever was standing right in front of her. And to say something like that! What if those where Death Eaters in disguise? Granted, she'd have no way of knowing that, but still. Harry spun around and hurried back towards the front of the house. He had to do something, even if he didn't know what that something was.
"There's no one here by that name!" Aunt Petunia suddenly announced. "Now get out of here! I don't know who you people are, but we don't want your kind around here, so just go away!"
Harry slid into a stop just at the edge of the house in time to hear the front door slam shut. Well, thank goodness for Aunt Petunia being decisively rude to everything weird. If she was safe inside, then maybe she's be left alone. After all, why would Death Eaters care about her if they already had him?
Harry tightened his grip on his wand. Please, please just be one of the Weasley's in disguise. He leaned out around the corner. He was still hidden behind the front bushes, but he could just barely see the four people standing halfway down the sidewalk leading up to the house.
Well, at least they didn't look like Death Eaters, though they definitely didn't look like anyone he knew. Three of them looked to be about his age. The girl was easy to pick out. She had bright pink hair. He would have mistaken her for Tonks maybe, but she was definitely shorter. There were two boys with her, a blond one dressed completely in orange and a black haired one in blue and black. The fourth person was taller, with a shock of white hair that stuck up over some kind of headband. He was wearing something blue and green that almost looked like some kind of military fatigues, which was only even more confusing. They certainly where not the normal kind of people expected on Privet Drive, but they also seemed to scream muggle. Harry had never seen a wizard in military fatigues.
"She is lying," the boy with dark hair hissed. "We do not have time for this."
Harry shifted to see better.
"Now we don't want to go rushing off into things again, do we?" the older one said. Harry winced, thinking about how many times he'd been told the same things and how and what it had taken for him to learn it. "We're not here to antagonize people," the older man continued. And for a moment, his eyes seemed to flicker over towards Harry.
Harry gritted his teeth. This was probably the best chance he had to distract them away from the house. And maybe even get away himself. He knew this neighborhood inside and out. If he could get them to chase him, he might be able to loose them somewhere away from Number 4, or maybe even ambush them someplace where he's have the upper hand.
Harry held his wand tightly at his side, ready to flick it up and cast the first spell that came to mind if he had to. It was as ready as he was ever going to be. He straightened up carefully and stepped around the bush, placing himself in full view of the front of the house but still leaving him somewhere to dash back behind and hide.
The tall one was already glancing in his direction, but the other three jerked around immediately to stare at him. He'd managed to somewhat surprise them and Harry studied them quickly. No, he certainly didn't recognize anything about these people. Nothing about their faces, clothing or eyes was familiar to him. This wasn't the twins playing some elaborate joke. It wasn't the Order bumbling their way through the muggle world. These were strangers, potentially dangerous strangers and they'd come here looking for him.
The scowling boy with dark hair as messy as Harry's twicthed suddenly and took one step towards Harry. Harry lurched back a step himself in response and he'd himself ready to run. "Who are you?' he demanded harshly. He wasn't going to be afraid. He wasn't going to let himself be afraid. Even if these people might be death eaters in disguise, even if he might be about to find himself dragged before Voldemort yet again, he was not going to let them se him afraid. "What'd you what?"
The dark haired boy froze, body held stiffly between one step and the next and eyes focused on Harry with a kind of intensity Harry didn't think he'd ever seen before. It was as of the other boy thought he could force something out of Harry just by staring at him. At the last second Harry remembered all of those worthless lessons of occulmacy. Eye contact. It required eye contact. Harry twisted his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut before immediately realizing how bad of an idea that was. What was he thinking, closing his eyes at a time like this? He snapped them back open but very very careful kept them away from meeting the other boy's gaze. None of the others seemed to be trying to stare him down, so he hoped it was safe enough to glare back at them.
"You'd better leave. Now," Harry demanded.
"Anno, Potter-san," the girl replied quietly. She had her hands clasped in front of her and was biting her lip. Nothing about her hinted at a threat but somehow Harry couldn't help but feel that she was dangerous. Like a powerful spell, contained within something inconspicuous and mundane, but just waiting to be unleashed. And what did "san" mean, and what the hell did it have to do with him?
"Oi, idiot."
Harry's attention shifted sharply from the girl to the blond boy in orange. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was staring at Harry critically. He had his nose scrunched up and lifted into the air as if that would make him seem taller. His bright blue eyes were narrowed but watching Harry like he was studying ever detail. "We're here to save your ass," the blond boy finally announced. "So you don't have to go all acting like a jerk. One teme is enough for this group."
The boy's accent was even thicker than the girl's but it was clear enough that Harry could understand him. His words just didn't make any sense. "Save me?" he repeated to himself.
"You are Harry Potter?" the dark haired boy demanded. He took another step forward and Harry jerked back again. He didn't seem to notice. Harry glanced over at him again, trying to avoid making direct eye contact with him, but also unable to resist his curiosity. He sounded so – odd; and it wasn't just the accent. There was something about his tone of voice that for one confusing moment reminded him of Sirius.
Can't think about Sirius, Harry reminded himself again. He must really be beginning to lose it if he thought this weird stranger sounded anything like his godfather.
"Your father was called James Potter, correct?" the other boy persisted.
His father's name made something in Harry twist sideways painfully. And it wasn't just the normal empty feeling of having never known him and never had parents. It was the tied memory of Sirius to it and trying to live up to Sirius's memory of his father and trying to combined that with the damning memory of Snape's that Harry had never ever wanted to see.
Harry's eyes narrowed. If this was some kind of cheap shot he wasn't going to let them get away with it. "What do you know about my father?" he hissed back scornfully.
"More than you."
It wasn't the dark haired boy who answered, nor any of those with him. It was a new voice, coming from the street off to the right. Harry twisted his body around so that his back wasn't to anybody. He had only a moment to see the surprise on the girl's face, the worry on the blond boy's and the pure rage on the dark haired one. Harry's heart seemed to skip a beat.
This was not good.
He didn't know what was going on, but somehow things had moved from bad to much much worse.