Disclaimer: This story includes characters and situations that are part of the Harry Potter universe, which is copyright J.K.Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury, etc. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made in the production of this FANFICTION. Not many outside resources were needed this time, but I (as always) made extensive use of the Harry Potter Lexicon, , when writing this chapter.

Author's Note: This is the last chapter before they get onto the Hogwarts train, so more Tom soon. Don't worry. And once we get to Hogwarts the fic will become much more Tom- centric, much more Ginny-centric, and much less Harry-centric… but it's all so much better set up with this beginning, somehow. Thanks to: HadasL (I'm not that ignorant, you'll see the explanation soon enough.), Fantome (Glad you liked it), Pixie (Yes, Ophicus, the snake bearer), P-oenix, and 'in awe' for your kind reviews. Hope you like the sixth chapter!

Expectations of Grandeur: Chapter 6: Talking to Walls and Riding on Trains

Harry reached the bedroom he shared with Ron without further event, and he slipped in and sunk onto the floor with a sigh of relief. He was feeling happier, more comfortable than he had lately. A calm had slid over him while talking to Buckbeak. It was good to talk to something that wouldn't talk back, Harry decided. He supposed it was why people liked Diaries. They didn't judge. And surely, Buck must have missed Sirius just as much as he did.

Ron wasn't in the room, probably at lunch Harry realised as his stomach churned. He thought of going downstairs but didn't want to face the entire family just then, he had a vague sense that that would spoil his good mood, so he waited in the room wondering when Ron would return from the meal. For the first time in a long time Harry felt safe, serene, and satisfied.

And soon the Hogwarts letters would be coming and he would go off for another year at Hogwarts. It only went up from here. He looked down at his hand; a scab was forming where the Doxy bite had been. At least he wasn't feeling the effects of the venom any longer.

It struck him as odd that he hadn't realised the inborn problem with this house now that Kreacher was gone. Sirius had even told him, last year, that he couldn't just dismiss Kreacher because the house elf knew too much about the Order. It would be very dangerous to have the elf in Malfoy manor, especially since the Malfoys probably knew exactly where the ancient house of Black used to be, as all pure-blooded families were interconnected. The neighbourhood was no longer safe, and the only thing between the Order and the Death Eaters was Dumbledore's secrecy charm.

That would never wear off, fortunately, but the truth of the matter was that walking outside, even for the short period of time necessary to move from one place to another, required more security measures than ever before. It was lucky the ministry was on their side now, if reluctantly.

At least, having come to the house in a ministry car, Harry thought that the ministry and the Order were allies. He looked around the room for a newspaper, but could find none. Hermione would have a copy, he would ask her to see it when she came back from lunch. He supposed that the articles about his descent into insanity would be vastly reduced, as Fudge could no longer deny the fact that Lord Voldemort was back.

He wondered if Professor Umbridge would be back this year. He guessed, after what had happened with the Centaurs, whatever that had been, the last thing she would want was to be reinstated as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. He wondered if Lupin would be allowed to come back. He figured he would have known that, Lupin would have said something. So it was probably someone new. Harry sighed. Everyone thought that position was cursed – no intelligent wizard would take it unless they had another reason to want to come to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and that reason almost indubitably related to him. He hoped this year the new teacher wouldn't be a spy for Voldemort.

One would think that with all the power Dumbledore had, he wouldn't have been hoodwinked into allowing a servant of the Dark Lord to receive a teaching position at Hogwarts. But evidently the interview process did not include "do you align yourself with Lord Voldemort" as a question, as twice before Harry's very teachers had turned out to be his enemies. Or maybe Dumbledore was just desperate.

All the same, it didn't make sense to accept Death Eaters, or even bumbling idiots like Lockhart, into the post. Then again, Dumbledore did have trust in Snape.

Harry didn't know how that was possible. Snape had as good as killed Sirius when he didn't take Harry seriously about his dream. Had he gone to find the order immediately… but Harry stopped his thought there because, in all reality, the end would have been exactly the same. Like Nearly Headless Nick had said, Sirius would not have let the Order leave without going with them. This was how Sirius wanted to die, even if it wasn't the right time.

Harry sighed. This was certainly not what he wanted to be thinking about, but it was, in some ways, a relief to be able to think it, to be able to search for closure. Maybe some time soon he'd be able to talk about his Godfather with his friends. Hermione and Ron probably missed Sirius as well, even though they couldn't feel the same as Harry did with caring parents of their own. He wondered if they could ever understand. He didn't know if they'd ever understand what it was to loose your parents – twice – but more than that he was sure they wouldn't understand that his life, like it or not, had to end in murder. But he was sure that they would try, in some strange way. He knew that Hermione would always try to come up with another plan, and Ron would suggest as many cockamamie schemes as it took until they found one that might not be so unlikely after all. That settled it in Harry's mind. He would tell them.

"Hey, Harry!" called Ron upon entering the room, smiling with excitement and joy. "What did you say to Ginny? She's completely back to normal!"

Maybe some other time. "I just explained the situation to her," Harry commented, unsure of exactly what else Ron thought he would have said.

"Oh," Ron answered, less than impressed. "Well, whatever you said it worked like magic. She and mum are in the kitchen right now, discussing this like calm human beings. The entire order thanks you." He grinned, not too subtly. "Honestly, mate, you're the only one who can calm her down. You should have seen it. She came walking into the kitchen all calm, and everyone knows that when she's the angriest, she's calm and collected like that, and she says, 'Mum', mum turned around quick as anything right then, 'I need to talk to you about going to Hogwarts this year, Harry explained to me several things that I didn't know about before,' mum just stared, but she wiped her wet hands on a nearby towel and followed Ginny outside.

"We all expected to hear them start yelling something awful next, but about two minutes later mum comes in, with tears in her eyes and gives Ginny a big kiss on the cheek before handing her a bowl of fruit to put on the table for lunch. Ginny was smiling as wide as anything." Here Ron paused. "Really, did you just tell her the truth?"

Harry nodded. "That and that she should grow up."

Ron raised one eyebrow. "Really, you're one to be talking, given your fine performance last year." Harry just shook his head guiltily. "But no one held it against you, don't worry. You had a lot on your mind, and we all know it." Harry didn't feel like saying that he had even more on his mind now, with the prophecy to contend with. "I only wish we could have known what that prophecy said, it might help us figure out how to kill Voldemort."

Ron was asking for it, and Harry had, after all, resolved to tell him. "You don't have to kill Voldemort," Harry mumbled. "I do."

"What? Harry, don't get off on that again – yes, you're the vanguard and you do most of the heroic final battle-type-stuff, but we're behind you all the way, we'll help whether you want us to or not. Don't go on about being alone like you did last year."

Harry shook his head to Ron's half-concerned half-angry look. "No, it's not that. The prophecy wasn't destroyed, just a copy of it. Dumbledore heard the prophecy with his own ears, and he showed it to me through his Pensive. That's what the prophecy says – that either I have to kill Voldemort, or he has to kill me."

Ron was silent. "Really?" he muttered.

Harry nodded.

"Well," Ron added quietly, "Doesn't that just do you in. No wonder Voldemort's been after you." There was a pause. "That's all it said?"

Harry nodded again. "Some stuff about a power that the Dark Lord didn't know, and enough to identify that it was talking about me, but that's basically it. Ron, you can't tell anyone, though. I want to be the one to decide who knows and who doesn't."

Ron nodded solemnly. "Of course not, Harry." There was another pause. "If you think of it though, it doesn't really say too much… We all knew that either Voldemort had to die or you would, and I guess with all the heroics that have been thrown upon you, it was rather assumed that you would be the one to defeat him. You are the boy who lived, after all."

Harry nodded. "Only… this makes me into a murderer – either I have to murder him or he will murder me. Except I don't want to do that – I don't know if I can."

Ron was silent for a moment, and when he did speak, his voice was low and earnest. "You've got to try, Harry. You're the only one who even has a shot." He tried to smile but it proved too hard. "And it never says you can't have any help. Maybe that's what the 'power the Dark Lord doesn't know' is – friendship?"

Harry shrugged. "That's what Dumbledore said. But it seems a bit of a silly power to defeat Voldemort with. What will I do, hug him to death?"

Ron laughed. "Really, I think that a hug would be more frightening from You-Know-Who than from you, Harry. Although maybe that's the point."

"What's the point," came a voice from the door as Hermione stepped inside.

Ron blushed bright red, fumbling for a lie, and Harry was left to fend for himself. "That the Chudley Cannons will never be the best in the league because they don't have the money to pay top players," Harry responded.

"Oh," Hermione answered, obviously disappointed. Whether it was because she knew they weren't talking about Quidditch or she thought they were was beyond Harry. "Well, in any case, I'd like to thank you for whatever you said to Ginny. She was finally able to talk to her mother, and they came to a reasonable decision without any more yelling." She smiled. "Just in case Ron hadn't already told you."

"I told him!" bit back Ron petulantly. "You don't trust me to do anything, Hermione," he whined. Hermione sighed and plopped down next to them.

"We're all wondering what you said, though," Hermione said with a smile.

"Yeah, mate, no one's ever been able to talk to her like that," Ron added with a bit of a lopsided grin. "You're a good influence on her." He grinned a bit too widely for Harry's liking.

"Have you seen Dean Thomas this summer," bit Harry, almost to make a point. Ron flushed bright red at the mention of their mutual friend.

"Haven't," responded Ron. "I think that was just a joke Ginny was playing on us. Although I wouldn't know – it's impossible to see anyone, they won't let us out of the house."

"And with good reason," Harry answered. "If Kreacher's gone and defected to the Malfoys, then all the Death Eaters know we're in this house by now. It wouldn't do to let you wander about outside; at least in the house, they can't see you or get in – so it's safe."

Hermione nodded. "That's what I've been trying to tell him," she muttered, but Ron looked shocked. Perhaps Hermione hadn't been as effective of conveying this fact to Ron as she would have hoped. "The Order desperately needs a new base. That's probably why Dumbledore is looking into the Chamber."

Ron nodded slowly. "All right, that makes sense enough," he commented. "But Ginny would have said something if she were keeping up with Thomas, right?"

Hermione laughed. "Maybe not, given your reaction to her last boyfriend." After a pause, she added, "But she hasn't used any of the owls often enough to look strange. I think she was indicating interest at most." Ron smirked, and gave Harry a look as if to say 'See, Harry? No Thomas at all.'

Harry rolled his eyes and tried to look pointedly towards Hermione. He wasn't sure it entirely worked, but Ron blushed bright red and said nothing more. Hermione merely shook her head. Harry smiled slightly.

Ron returned somewhat to his normal colour, though still a tad pink, and continued uncomfortably, "But like I was saying, Harry, the real problem is that the Montrose Magpies can buy anyone out – and who wouldn't want to play for a team that always wins? They get their fans that way too… spoil- sports, they'd switch alliances right now were Montrose to stop winning."

Harry tried to sound interested, as he answered, "But what's so bad about that? If you want to keep winning then you have to get the best players." Hermione yawned.

"It's just… unfair. They only get the money because they win, and they only win because they have the money. In my opinion, the cash for rewards should be split evenly between teams, so any team would have just the same chance of getting a good player. That way there would be some meaning behind rooting for the Magpies or the Wasps, or the Canons for that matter – although there's always meaning in rooting for the Canons."

Hermione yawned again, and interrupted, "Well, if you two don't mind… I have homework to do," and she hurried out of the room without looking back. Harry grinned.

"That," Ron said, "Was surprisingly easy."

"Especially as I have not the slightest idea who the Montrose Magpies are," Harry responded. "Successful team?"

"Only the most. But I don't think it's because they buy out the players. Interesting idea, Harry, and besides, Hermione will never know any better."

Harry grinned even wider.

It wasn't long thereafter that Hogwarts Owls came, and the four ruffled birds swooped in energetically, dropping four all-too similar packets off for the four students. Harry opened his with relish, eager to see his course list and book list officially, and Ron and Hermione opened theirs with the usual pomp accorded to such an event, but Ginny sat back, not wanting to open her letter. Harry passed her an inquisitive stare.

"It's thin," she muttered, "It's light. There's no badge inside."

Harry sighed and put aside his own pile of papers. "Your mother has dealt with three of her children not being named prefect. She'll deal with this. Open it."

Ginny blinked and nodded, opening the letter quickly and pulling everything out. Her mother flew to her side. "Well, dear, where's your badge?"

"I don't have one, mum. I'm not prefect. Amelia's been named prefect, I'm sure." Ginny sounded pained, but was calm as she said it.

"Oh…" Mrs. Weasley said, coolly. "Well, that's all right – you've told me, she's the girl very much like Hermione, right?" Ginny nodded. Her mother smiled. "I'm sure she deserves the honour. Well, let's have a look at those book lists, shall we?" She picked up Ginny's papers and fell to reading them with much the same expression she had any other year. Ginny smiled slightly.

"Off to Diagon Alley, for all their things," came a voice from the corridor – Mr. Weasley. "When shall we go?"

"How long will it take to make the necessary arrangements?" asked Molly as her husband came in.

"A week, at most."

"Then in a week it is. And, Arthur – since it will then be just a few days until the start of term, why don't we stay at the Leaky Cauldron – surely it's safe enough, even in these times." Mr. Weasley seemed to consider it for a moment. "It would get them out of this house, Arthur, and that would do no end of good for them," Molly pursued.

"Well," Mr. Weasley said, finally, "I don't see how it could do any harm, so that should be perfectly all right."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Wonderful, dear." She smiled at her daughter, almost proudly. "I was never a prefect either, dear," she said.

Ginny's face broke into a real smile for the first time that day and she turned back to her breakfast.

Within the week they left the house (the first time all summer for Ron, Hermione, and Ginny) and, surrounded by most of the Order members, they proceeded in quite a circuitous route towards the Muggle London Underground. "With the Malfoys knowing where we are," Mr. Weasley had whispered just before they left, "We can't just Floo our way to Diagon Alley. They'd never be watching the Underground, they hate all things Muggle."

Of course, Harry secretly thought that their choice of transportation had something to do with Mr. Weasley's fascination with non-magic folk, but he said nothing. All the adults, except Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley themselves, left them at the entrance to the underground, and Harry was, in a way, glad that they didn't see Mr. Weasley riding the escalator down to the platform. His joy upon finally being able to ride one was astonishing. "Do these have plugs," he asked Hermione excitedly, and Hermione shook her head and answered in the negative, a little sad she couldn't have answered that yes, these grand machines did in fact run off of plugs.

"They do operate on electricity, though," she offered in consolation.

Mr. Weasley was thrilled. "Then how does the eklectricity get there, if there isn't a plug? Does it use a battrie?"

"No… I think that it's hardwired into the system; it's a wire just like in a plug but there's nowhere you could 'unplug' it as such."

Mr. Weasley just grinned.

Several commuters stared at him, as he rode the train with a foolish grin on his face, but most just shrugged it off and turned to their own newspapers. Harry was glad he was too shocked to talk, or he would have attracted much too much attention. At one point he asked to borrow someone's mobile phone – and when he just wanted to look at it, stunned, he garnered many an odd stare. "Where's the wire? Is it really a fellytone?"

"Telephone," Hermione hissed, "And it's one of those mobile ones – it uses a battery," she said to Mr. Weasley's obvious delight, "And transmits to the centre using radio waves. I might be wrong, though," she added as an afterthought.

Mr Weasley continued to stare as they rode the escalator to street level, but as soon as they were nearing Wizarding London he snapped back to a more responsible state. "Okay, keep together," he cautioned. "They won't attack us in broad daylight like this, not with so many people around, but it's good to be safe nonetheless…" he led them into the Leaky Cauldron and approached Tom the barkeep, asking whether there were three rooms to spare. To everyone's relief, there were. There would be no need to travel back to number 12 Grimmauld Place. Mr. Weasley sent a quick note back to the Order – saying they had arrived safely, and alerting them that he would be back to retrieve the children's school things within the week.

With that, and a nod to Tom, the six walked to the back of the pub, and tapped on the brick that opened the doorway to Diagon Alley. Harry saw his chance for freedom and took it, as did Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. All four were out of their parent's sight before Mrs. Weasley could let out a gentle sigh. After all, what could go wrong in Diagon Alley?

And, truth be told, nothing did go wrong in Diagon Alley. Ron managed to leave Harry and Ginny alone at Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream shop, about halfway through the day, but after a rather quiet five minutes of eating ice cream Harry and Ginny found him staring at the new brooms through a glass window, Hermione looking painfully bored. They returned to the Leaky Cauldron for dinner, their school things neatly stacked in boxes and bags, and went upstairs to sleep.

Mr. Weasley went the next day to Grimmauld place to get their trunks, and carried them back in a ministry car. And so, quietly, passed the remainder of their ever shrinking summer vacation and the last few weeks of the time before Harry could return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.