Leaving At Last
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own. Otherwise I'd be filthy rich, and sitting on my butt somewhere on the beach drinking slushies
Hope you enjoy!
As Harry hurriedly folded his socks and drawers into his large trunk, Minerva was studying him. She had taken care of his shirts and trousers, which were folding themselves and floating into a separate part of the trunk. He looks like he was crying recently, she decided in the end, after carefully trying to understand his expression. His eyes were still a little red around the edges. About Sirius, no doubt. The pity she felt for him overcame her, and she wanted to do everything in her power to make his summer safe and, hopefully, happy.
"Professor," he asked suddenly, looking up from packing his cauldron and other school supplies. "I wanted to know, when will I get my O.W.L. results?" She sighed inwardly in relief. At least this question was easy to answer.
"You will get your O.W.L. results in the beginning of August."
"Well that's good then," he said, looking a little bit crestfallen. She had the perfect way to cheer him up for a little while, though.
"Mr. Potter, I suppose I forgot to mention that Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger will also be joining you the day after tomorrow?"
His eyes bulged with excitement. "Are you serious?"
"Yes, quite serious, I'm afraid," she smiled. She noticed something was wrong right away, because he was staring at her very peculiarly. "Is something wrong, Potter?"
"I've never seen you smile before, Professor."
She nearly blushed at that, but recovered quickly, and with a wave of her wand, forced the trunks to snap shut. "Well, are we ready then?" She asked. He nodded and motioned for her to go first, as he had to bring the trunks, while she had picked up his beautiful snowy owl.
When she stepped downstairs, there was a loud whimper. She saw Dudley grab his bottom and run into the parlor as fast as he could.
"What did you do to my son?" A purpling Vernon Dursley growled. "He hasn't said a word all this time!" A very white Petunia nodded, shaking so much that whatever liquid in the new cup she held spilled sloppily out.
"I caught your son eavesdrop on our private conversation," she said coldly, putting emphasis on the word son. "All I did was make sure he wouldn't tell a living soul about it."
Vernon Dursley's face got a shade darker with every word she said. "How did you do this then?"
"That is none of your concern Mr. Dursley." She gave him a stern glare, just for extra measure.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?" He screamed. In his anger, his large fist broke off the end of the broom he was still holding.
Minerva had had enough of this nonsense, and wanted to finish it now. She pulled out her wand, and pointed it at him. It took everything she had not to smile at his reaction, which had caused him to go very pale and fall over a chair.
"Now, see here," she said sternly. "I've heard of the way you treated Harry all these years, and it sickens me. I am very close to turning you and the rest of your family into a herd of sheep, because all you do is bleat when something doesn't go your way, and I will no longer have it. If I hear more stories about Harry's horrible childhood, it will not be a pleasant outcome for you, and I suggest you work on your begging." She gave a rather frosty glance at Petunia, for extra measure. She dropped the new cup she had been holding, and it smashed on the tile into many pieces.
Harry, however, looked positively thrilled at her little speech. She motioned for him to go outside ahead of her, because she would only take one more second. After he had shut the glass door behind him, Minerva had taken a letter out of her pocket, and handed it to Petunia, who looked like she'd been handed a bag that contained horse droppings.
"What on earth is this?"
"That is a letter from Albus Dumbledore, who wanted me to give that to you," she said.
"Tell him I don't want to hear from him anymore!"
"I'm afraid that is not possible, because if he wants to speak with you, he will. Now, I'd like to say something to you I've been holding back for quite a long time," she said, taking a deep breath. What she was going to say would mean releasing long held feelings. As if Petunia knew this, she stayed quiet.
" I knew your sister very well, she was more like family to me than you will ever know, and I treated her as such, which was better than the way her own sister treated her. To think that you didn't even let her know that her parents had died! She was only fifteen at the time! The sad part was, she still loved you, even though it was never returned. I thought I ought to mention it to you."
She turned away from a dumbstruck Petunia, only to see that Harry had heard every single word. He was looking at her in a way that she had never seen before, and frankly, it was rather creepy. She began to walk out the door, until a soft voice made her halt.
"It was you then, you were that cat on the wall…" whispered a rather dazed looking Vernon Dursley. He was staring at her with a somewhat glazed look in his eyes.
"Yes, I watched you the entire day before Harry arrived here, and I stand by my thoughts back then at how horrible you were for raising him." She stormed off, and a rather abashed Harry held the door open for her, and followed her without a word.
She looked up at the sky with a groan. It seemed they had spent quite a while in there, for the sun was just starting its journey to sink below the horizon. She would have to hurry then. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice so soft it was a whisper. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"Professor, is what you said all true?" She looked at him particularly embarrassed. It was not something she'd wanted him to hear.
"Exactly what is it that I said are you referring to?"
"That part about watching the Dursley house the day my parents were murdered."
She winced, preferring the other topic about her being close to his mother. "I will talk to you about everything, but first we should get home, er- I mean once we get to my manor," she said hastily. Home was a very delicate word for him, and he probably knew it too, which was why he fell unusually silent. "Now," she said, trying to change the subject. "We should be heading out."
She once more grabbed her wand, and holding it out, whispered "Lumos." Within seconds the large purple Knight Bus had come to the street in front of them. Stan Shunpike, who she had the obligation of teaching some years ago, stepped out and began to recite his welcome.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, I am Stan Shunpike, and I'll be-"
"Yes, Yes, we know who you are already," she hissed, and dropped the bag of sickles into his hand. "That should be enough for two passengers, and we'd like to go to Wrea Green, please."
He took the money, and when he turned to get the bags and saw who the second passenger was, his jaw dropped.
"Is tha' you, Neville?"
Minerva stared at him. Why on earth would he call Harry 'Neville'? She was about to ask when Harry gave Stan his trunks and set Hedwig next to them.
"Professor, should I go and find a seat?" This snapped her back into reality.
"Yes, go on ahead, I would like to speak to Mr. Shunpike." To her pleasure, he cringed at her old habit of calling him by his surname.
When she climbed up to the second floor, she saw Harry sitting on what looked like a large park bench, which thankfully, was nailed to the floor. At least until it changed into a bed, which she hoped was quite awhile from now.
"Professor, what did you say to Stan?" Harry asked, suddenly paling and gripping the arm of the bench tightly as the Knight Bus moved out.
"I convinced him to move us up the line since you're being searched for as we speak," she said through clenched teeth. "We should be there in a moment, thank God." He looked like he was about to laugh, but caught himself before he threw up.
A voice rang through the bus. "Wrea Green!" Minerva lurched to her feet.
"Here we go now, this is our stop." They went down the stairs to see Stan walking off the bus with their trunks and the birdcage, and followed him out. Once he had set down the trunks, Minerva gave him a curt nod, and motioned for Harry to follow. He hastily picked up the trunks, while she had taken the birdcage with the slightly ruffled owl in it, and followed after her.
"Bye Neville!" Stan called after them. He never really was a bright one, she thought.
"So, why does he call you Neville?" She asked, trying to start a conversation. Since neither of them were in danger of throwing up anymore, she decided conversation was good.
"In the summer before my third year I ran away from home and accidentally flagged the bus down," Harry explained. "I didn't really want him to know my name so I told him I was Neville Longbottom."
She didn't blame him for what he did. Gossips like Stan would spread ridiculous rumors about, and she'd have done the same thing were she in his place. They walked along in silence for a while, before he spoke again.
"Professor, how long of a walk is it to your manor?"
"Just another quarter of a mile up that hill, and we'll be there." Well, it was almost true. They walked up the hill and back down until they saw the small road that led to her front gates. Of course she could see them, but she imagined he looked rather confused at why they'd stopped in a big field.
She reached in her pocket, and held out a note for him to see. "Memorize this quickly," she said. The note read:
The second safe house for the Order of the Phoenix will be held at M. McGonagall's manor in Wrea Green.
When she saw him look in awe upon the mansion, she assumed he saw it. Ushering him inside the gates, they walked briskly up the path with renewed vigor at seeing the humongous place. Home sweet home, she thought wearily. She hadn't walked this much since her stunner incident, and she was slightly dizzy, and more than a little tired.
When they reached the door, she flicked her wand, which opened it immediately, and strode inside, a slightly panting Harry following. She noticed Rougey had lit a fire, and motioned for Harry to sit down in a chair. She locked the door and redid the sensory charms on it.
Going into the kitchen, she saw Rougey had already noticed their return, and was hurrying to reheat some food. "You are truly amazing, Rougey," she said, smiling. The house-elf turned around and almost dropped the pan she was holding as she curtsied.
"Mistress is much too kind," she mumbled.
"Nonsense, you are worth ten normal cooks." With that, she decided to leave so she didn't make her nervous. The elf tended to tremble a little when she was watching her cook.
When she walked in the sitting room, she noticed Harry was almost dozing off by the fire. She was rather glad he was so comfortable in her home, but it also made her feel twice as tired by looking at him.
"Wake up you, the food will be ready in a few moments." She didn't want to sound too harsh, but there was a limit to what she could do.
"Wh-what?" He blinked sleepily.
"Dinner will be ready in a short while," she said. "I assume you're hungry, that is." She knew she was, but she kept that part quiet.
"Yeah, I'm starving!" He said, looking completely awake at the mention of food. He's still growing, and who knows how little they feed him at that muggle house. A corner of her mouth twitched at this thought.
"Now, while we're waiting, I know you probably have many questions, about the Order, about why you're here, and such," she said. "Now is the time to ask."
He paused, probably thinking up a really hard one to answer.
"I want to know why you came for me all of a sudden to take me here." He looked eagerly into her eyes, waiting for a response. This one, however, was not going to be easy to answer.
To Be Continued….
A/N: Haha! I made a cliffy, I made a cliffy! Now you're all going to have to wait until the next chapter comes out, Muahaha! This one was a little bit longer than the other chapters, but I'm sure none of you have any problems with this. Also, I itched to make Vernon connect the cat he saw on the wall with Minerva. Ooh, I had to do it!
Wrea Green: It's an actual British village, in case you don't know, and thanks to my friend Augustwolf for his info on that, since I couldn't make up a name for myself ...