Chapter Two
Dudley's Fond Farewell
Harry woke the next morning lying on his bed fully-clothed. He glanced at his alarm clock: he had slept well-past ten o'clock, even though no one had come up to wake him.
Padding into the bathroom, he splashed water on his face and arms, hoping to clean off and wake up more at the same time. Drying off, Harry stood still for a moment, listening for Dudley's snoring. Usually his cousin could be heard quite clearly; today, however, there was no sound coming from his bedroom. Harry crept down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Unexpectedly, his uncle was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper and nibbling on a piece of toast. Dudley was at the table as well, just starting on a plateful of eggs and sausage put in front of him by his mother. As he walked in Vernon looked up, fixing him with a deprecating squint of his beady eyes.
"Have a bit of a lie-in this morning, did we?" he sneered. "Thought you'd be up early getting ready for the big day."
"I would've been up earlier," Harry said. "My alarm didn't go off." He gave his uncle an appraising look. "So what are you home for, today? Sacked?"
Vernon snorted. "Don't be cheeky, boy. No, this is a special day, your last day here, and I took holiday so I could be here to see you off."
"Meaning, you don't trust me," Harry said flatly.
"Not one bit," Vernon smiled nastily. Harry shrugged and began to walk to the stove to get something to eat, but his aunt Petunia waved him away.
"Sit down," she ordered, pointing at his empty chair. "I'll get your breakfast." When Vernon glanced at her quizzically, she added, "We can't have him overeating today, of all days." Harry looked at her for a moment, then sat down to wait, watching Dudley shovel forkful after forkful of eggs, sausage and toast into his mouth.
"Save some room for later," he suggested to his cousin.
Dudley looked up dully at him for a moment, then decided he was being baited. "I'm in training, I need to keep my fighting weight up," he mumbled around a mouthful of food.
"No problem there," Harry said under his breath.
"Yes, indeed," Vernon was saying, almost jovially, as Petunia put a plate of eggs, sausage and toast in front of Harry. It was rather more food than he'd expected, and he dug in gustily as his uncle continued speaking. "Finally! No more ruddy owls flying in and out at all hours of the day and night. No more flying cars trying to tear the house apart. No more floating puddings or blowing up my sister or anyone's tongue — " Dudley put a hand over his mouth at this "— and no more freaks coming out of the fireplace!" Vernon suddenly glared at Harry. "They aren't going to come out of the fireplace, are they? Your little friends who're coming to pick you up, eh?"
"Er –" Harry realized he didn't know how Ron and Hermione were coming. "I rather doubt it," he said finally. "They'd remember what a disaster that was, last time."
"Damn right it was a disaster!" Vernon growled, beginning to get red in the face. "Ruddy dolt nearly wrecked the entire living room!"
"Mr. Weasley is not a dolt!" Harry said, annoyed at his uncle's rudeness. "That's the way they travel normally!"
"That's not the way we do it!" Vernon snapped at him. "Coming into my house, I expect some consideration about how it's done!"
Just then the doorbell rang. Glancing at the wall clock, Harry saw it was just eleven; with any luck, Ron and Hermione were at the door. He stood up, watching Vernon warily: the vein in his uncle's forehead was beginning to stand out again. Vernon, however, took a deep breath and said in a strangely calm voice, "Why don't you go and let your little friends in, if that's them, get your things and be on your way, then?"
"Right," Harry said, stalking out of the room. For once he completely agreed with his uncle. The sooner he was packed and out of number four Privet Drive forever, the better. Opening the front door, Harry found Ron and Hermione standing there, both dressed in casual (and mostly appropriate) Muggle attire: Hermione in a light blue blouse and blue jeans, and Ron, also in jeans and wearing a Chudley Cannons T-shirt. Both looked a bit apprehensive as the door opened, but they both smiled and relaxed upon seeing Harry.
"Hi, Harry!" Hermione said, then looked over his shoulder and asked, "Is — is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Harry said, stepping back to let them into the hall. "We were just discussing my travel arrangements. Come on in."
"Hi, Harry," Ron punched him lightly in the arm as he greeted him. Harry pushed the door closed and turned to face them both.
"Long time no see," Harry said with a grin. They both beamed at him in return; it had been only three days since their return on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione was practically bouncing on her toes; she finally stepped forward and hugged Harry tightly for several seconds.
"Is this your girlfriend?" a voice asked, and they turned to see Dudley standing there; he had followed Harry into the hall. "Or is he your boyfriend?" he added nastily, pointing at Ron.
"In case you never noticed, Duddykins," Harry said acidly, speaking softly so his voice wouldn't carry into the kitchen, "People who are friends hug each other. They don't go about beating up kids for grins." Dudley frowned and peered at him uncertainly, his mouth agape. Harry had a sudden insight that he'd been thinking exactly that.
"Don't you think," Hermione ventured timidly, "It would be proper to introduce us to your aunt and uncle, Harry?"
"Yeah, right," Harry said. He wanted nothing more than to get his things packed and be gone from this house forever. "Come on, then." He led the way into the kitchen. As Ron passed Dudley he reached in his pocket and held out a piece of candy toward him.
"Fancy a toffee, mate?" he asked, and Dudley instinctively reached for the sweet until he remembered what had happened the last time. A look of horror spread across his face and he backed away, shaking his head, then turned and ran upstairs. Grinning, Ron pocketed the sweet and followed Harry and Hermione into the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Harry made introductions. "This is my aunt and uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley," he said, indicating the two adults, then turned to Hermione and Ron. "These are my friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."
"Good morning," Hermione said cheerfully and Ron made a small wave and a mumbled hello. Vernon looked at them both through narrowed, beady eyes, his bushy mustache twitching slightly as if chewing on something he wanted to say but couldn't quite spit it out.
"So," he said finally, looking at Hermione, "You're a –"
"A witch, yes," she finished, ignoring the violent flinch both adults gave upon hearing the word "witch." Mustering a smile at Vernon in spite of his suspicious stare, Hermione said, "We've heard quite a lot about you from Harry."
"Have you now?" Vernon's bushy eyebrows shot up at this. "What's he been saying about us?"
"Oh –" Hermione realized she'd never actually heard a nice thing about the Dursleys from Harry, other than how nice it was to leave every summer. "He's … just ... told us … about how you've … taken care of him all this time," she finished, with a faltering smile.
"I'll wager he has," Vernon muttered crossly. Petunia just stared at the two of them; Harry wondered if she was calculating how much the kitchen would have to be scrubbed after they left.
"Where did Dudders go?" Vernon looked around suddenly, finally realizing that Dudley was no longer in the room with them.
"Er –" Harry looked back and forth between his uncle and the hallway. "I think he went upstairs."
Just then there was a pounding of footsteps on the stairway as Dudley hurtled downstairs and out the front door. "I'll be back in a bit!" he shouted as the door slammed shut behind him.
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Well," Hermione said finally. "Perhaps we should get you sorted out, Harry." Ron, who hadn't said a full sentence yet, looked at him, nodding as well.
"Right," Harry said, and the three of them edged toward the door. "I'll just go and get packed," he said to his aunt and uncle, who both just stared. He ducked out of the room and followed Ron and Hermione up the stairs. Ron found his room from memory and they all crowded into it.
"Hasn't changed much," Ron said, flopping onto the bed. "I see you're about packed," he grinned, as did Harry, seeing that everything was strewn about the room as if Harry had never planned on leaving.
Hermione was looking around with a mixture of indignation and disgust. "How can you live like this?" She said incredulously. "And that smell…" Hermione's nose wrinkled as she said this.
"What smell?" Harry asked, indignant.
"Well, I guess you could say it's the odor of … teenage boy," she finally ventured. Harry and Ron looked at each other, and at her. Ron carefully lifted his arms, one at a time, and sniffed loudly. Harry chuckled.
"That's what Mum says," he muttered to Harry. "Ginny too, lately. Personally, I've half a mind to drop a Dungbomb in her room sometime and see how she likes it."
Hermione shot Ron a dirty look, but rather than continue to bicker she pulled out her wand. "Well, let's get started, then." Harry and Ron followed suit, but when Harry turned to begin clearing his desk Hermione quickly put out a hand to stop him. "Er — Harry, I don't know if it's a good idea for you to –" She hesitated as Harry looked at her crossly, then plunged on. "You know the Ministry of Magic is watching this house. They'd love nothing better than to catch you performing magic while underage and out of bounds."
"Are you going to tell them?" Harry asked pointedly. "Besides, they can't tell who's doing the magic anyway! When Dobby tried to keep me from going to Hogwarts and worked magic, I was the one who was blamed for it!"
"That's all the more reason not to do any, then," Hermione said logically. Ron and Harry both rolled their eyes.
"With you and me here, how're they going to tell who did it?" Ron asked exasperatedly.
"They'll just assume Harry did!" Hermione said just as forcefully. "That's what they did before, and how would they know we're here, anyway? Did you send to an owl to your brother Percy to let him know what we're up to here?"
"You're barking!" But before Ron could continue or Hermione protested more Harry put up his hands in surrender.
"All right, all right! You win!" Harry shoved his wand into his back pocket. He sat on his bed, which Ron had vacated, and folded his legs in front of himself. "Just be sure you pack my trunk very neatly, thank you very much," he added with a bare trace of a smile on his lips.
Ron hid his mouth behind his hand. Hermione heaved a sigh and stared at Harry in mock disapproval for a few seconds before turning to Ron. "Alright, then, you start with the desk, I'll work on the wardrobe." They both turned and waved their wands, and things began flying through the air.
Harry had seen this before, when Nymphadora Tonks had packed his trunk the night the Order of the Phoenix had shown up at his house to escort him to the Burrow; but whereas Tonk's packing had been hurried and a bit clumsy (as Harry had learned when he opened his trunk later at school), this time it was much more orderly.
At least it was from Hermione's side of the room. Things were flying off his desk more or less at random; a few things zoomed so close to Ron he ducked out of the way, making Harry laugh. "Well I never packed by magic before," Ron muttered, stepping aside as Harry's copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six flew past him and into Harry's trunk.
"Oh, Ron, honestly!" Hermione said impatiently. She waved her wand at Harry's desk and the few remaining objects in it – an old quill, some scraps of parchment, and a few spare Knuts, flew out of the drawers and into his trunk. "There! That does it," she finished with a flourish that closed the trunk's lid.
Harry looked around the room. Everything moveable except the furniture itself (and Hedwig and her cage, of course) had gone into Harry's trunk. He stood up from the bed and walked slowly around the room, checking to make sure nothing would be left behind; he would never be back to collect it if it were.
"Well that was easy," Ron said brightly, putting his wand away. "Now all we have to do is make it back home in one piece." His expression darkened. "Hermione, are you sure we can't give Apparition a go —?"
"How did you get here, anyway?" Harry asked, suddenly wondering.
"On the Knight Bus," Hermione told him, and Harry nodded, remembering his last ride on the Wizarding vehicle at the end of Christmas break in his fifth year when they'd returned to school from number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
"So, is Stan Shunpike back on the Bus?" Harry asked.
"Erm, no," Hermione said quietly. "Someone else has the job now."
"Anybody we know?"
"Yes," Ron said darkly. "But you'll see for yourself soon enough."
Harry raised his eyebrows at this but neither Ron nor Hermione elaborated further on who the new conductor was. Hermione finally gestured hesitantly at the door and said in a small voice, "Shall — shall we be off then?"
"Right," said Harry, a bit annoyed. He heaved his trunk out into the hallway and down the stairs, Ron and Hermione following right after him, Ron carrying Hedwig in her cage. He would have liked to keep on going, right out the front door, not looking back nor saying goodbye, but a small voice in the back of his head told him this would not only be unforgivably rude, but would in fact probably haunt him for the rest of his days. They've never given a damn about me, he told the voice. They've ignored me, mistreated me, and when they weren't doing that, they put down me, my mum and dad, and every friend I've ever had. What do I owe them?
You owe them thanks for giving you a home, the small voice reminded him. Harry sighed and turned to Ron and Hermione. "I'll go say goodbye, then," he mumbled, and Hermione gave him a reassuring pat on the arm as he walked past her and into the kitchen.
The Dursleys were still there, minus Dudley, who still wasn't back from wherever he'd gotten off to. Harry stood in the kitchen doorway, feeling hideously uncomfortable, while Vernon gazed at him with narrowed eyes and Petunia stared at him, stone-faced.
"Thanks for, for taking care of me all this time," Harry said finally. "I know you didn't want to, but…" he trailed off, not knowing quite what to say next. "But, I just… thanks," he finished simply.
"Just thanks, eh?" Vernon grunted. He'd evidently been working himself into a state thinking about Harry's imminent departure. "Easy of you to dismiss the last sixteen ruddy years we've taken care of you, fed you, clothed you. And now you want to –" Petunia laid a hand on his arm and as he turned to her gave a little warning shake of her head. Vernon looked at her, annoyed, but sighed gustily and turned back to Harry. "Alright, then. Well, off you go," he waved at the door, gesturing for Harry to leave, and Harry did just that with a final "Bye," over his shoulder.
He walked out of the kitchen and up to the front door, where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. "How did it go?" Hermione whispered as Harry gathered up his trunk.
"Marvelous," Harry grunted. "We kissed and made up and everything." Ron pulled a face at the thought, then opened the door so Harry could pull his trunk through. Hermione followed, and they were finally out of the house. Harry looked up and down Privet Drive. He could imagine the neighbors behind their blinds and curtains, peering outside at the sight of three young people carrying a trunk and a cage with an owl in it walking out of the Dursley home. His aunt Petunia would probably be making excuses for weeks about Harry being sent off early to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. Harry wondered if anyone ever asked: If Harry was incurably criminal, why was he ever allowed to come home?
"I thought I would have heard the Knight Bus pulling up in front of the house," Harry remarked, turning to Hermione.
"Well," she explained. "I didn't want to upset your aunt and uncle, so I had the Bus drop us off a block away. Just up there," and she pointed to the north, up to where Wisteria Walk intersected with Privet Drive.
"Come on, then," Harry said, turning north. "We can get on it up there. I'm sure the neighbors here have loads to talk about already."
They started walking north along Privet Drive. Ron offered Harry and Hermione a toffee, which Harry took and almost started to bite into before looking at Ron sharply. "Is this one of Fred and George's?"
"No," Ron said, grinning. "But it was fun to offer it to your cousin Dudley and watch him turn green remembering the last one he ate."
At that moment, however, ahead of them, Harry saw a group of boys turn onto Privet Drive from Wisteria Walk and he knew, with a sinking feeling, that he wasn't going to leave the Dursleys without a final confrontation with Dudley.
Dudley was in the lead of his gang, a group of boy who enjoyed watching him torment younger children. His oldest friend, Piers Polkiss, whom Harry remembered enjoyed holding him so Dudley could slug him, was at his side as usual. Piers, who'd been a scrawny, rat-faced boy, had grown into a weedy, sullen-faced youth. The other boys, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon, who reminded Harry of Muggle versions of Crabbe and Goyle, generally stood around and laughed as Dudley and Piers roughed up some 11 or 12-year old.
Ron and Hermione had noticed them as well; Ron said out of the corner of his mouth, "I see your cousin has got some reinforcements."
"Yeah," Harry muttered, moving his right hand around to his back pocket where his wand was. "Get your wands ready, maybe he'll back down if he realizes you can do magic."
"Whatever you do," Hermione whispered quickly. "Don't pull out your wand, Harry! Let me and Ron handle this. Ron, remember these are Muggles, they won't have wands of their own."
"But they've got fists of their own," Ron whispered back. "And I expect they aren't afraid of using them on us."
Harry wanted to believe his cousin wasn't stupid enough to attack them. Every time he'd seen magic before he'd been terrified. But he'd never had his gang with him before; maybe he thought they couldn't use magic in front of people who didn't know about it. Which was true enough, of course, but they were allowed to use magic to protect themselves. Also, Harry was hampered with his trunk and Ron was carrying Hedwig.
As they drew nearer each other both Dudley and Harry slowed down and finally stopped about ten feet from each other and Harry let his trunk settle onto the sidewalk. Piers stayed next to Dudley; the other three boys spread out and surrounded Harry, Ron and Hermione. Dudley was wearing a triumphant grin, as if it was a clever maneuver to show up after Harry had left the house, so Vernon and Petunia wouldn't see him bullying Harry, not that Harry thought either of them would mind much.
"So you're leaving, are you?" Dudley said, eyeing Harry's trunk and the cage in Ron's hand. He hadn't sounded nearly this brave last night when he'd asked the same question. The other boys grunted laughter at this; as usual, their role in the gang was to be Dudley's cheering section.
"Yeah," said Harry. He'd stopped being afraid of Dudley back when he'd first found out he was a wizard. But, as annoying and bullying as Dudley and his parents had been, he'd never willfully used magic against any of them. Oh, he'd accidentally caused Dudley's Aunt Marge to inflate like a balloon some years back, and he'd been sorely tempted to jinx Dudley or Vernon on occasion, but he'd never done it. It was so tempting, now that he'd never see them again, to let fly with a Bat-Bogey Hex or something similarly appropriate for Dudley. But the little voice in the back of his head was making tch-tch'ing sounds…
"Well I was telling the guys earlier today," Dudley went on, with a nasty grin, "That maybe before you left you'd do a trick for them."
"A trick?" Harry echoed, wondering what Dudley was playing at. Had he told his Muggle friends that his cousin was a wizard?
"Yeah, you know. Like when you made the glass in the reptile house at the zoo disappear," Dudley reminded him.
"I remember that!" Piers piped up. "It was wicked cool." Dudley, annoyed, poked him in the arm and Piers fell silent, looking chastised.
Harry looked around at the other members in the gang surrounding them. Ron had one hand in his pocket and Hermione had her arms crossed; Harry could see her holding her wand under one arm. He looked back at Dudley and said, "I don't have time to show you a trick, 'Big D' – I've got to catch a bus."
There were snickers from the group. "Oh, getting a bit cheeky, are we?" Dudley sneered. He stepped within a few feet of Harry, trying to intimidate him with his sheer bulk, which arguably was an impressive amount of fat and muscle. "You know what happens when I get cheeked, don't you?"
"I suppose you'll need to find a ten-year old to beat up, won't you?" Harry said sarcastically, and Piers moved off to his side, prepared to step in and grab Harry for Dudley to punch.
"Isn't ickle Harry so smart, then?" Piers sniggered. "Maybe he wants us to persuade him to show us a trick, Duds."
"Maybe he does," Dudley agreed, punching one hand into his palm threateningly. "Maybe I'll just have to convince him to do something for us." He nodded at Piers, who stepped behind Harry and grabbed his arms. At the same moment the other boys moved toward Ron and Hermione.
"Now!" Harry and Dudley both shouted at the same moment. Dudley stepped forward, planted his feet and swung a meaty fist at Harry's head. However, he'd telegraphed the blow so much that Harry just ducked forward and down, pulling Piers forward enough for Dudley's fist to catch him in the nose. Piers swore and released Harry, who stepped away from between them. Dudley watched stupidly as Piers grabbed his now-bleeding nose, his eyes screwing up and watering.
At the same time Harry heard cries of "Petrificus Totalus!" and "Stupefy!" as Ron and Hermione each defended themselves. Looking back, he saw that Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon were all on the ground; Dennis had been frozen in mid-step and had toppled over. He looked like he was in the middle of a push-up as his hands were outstretched to grab Ron. Malcolm and Gordon were sprawled loosely on the ground.
Looking at the three of them on the ground, Piers, still holding his bleeding nose, let out an ear-splitting scream and ran off up Privet Drive and around the corner of Wisteria Walk, leaving Dudley alone facing two wands pointed at his face as well as an annoyed, panting Harry.
With his gang suddenly unconscious or scared off, Dudley was quickly reverting back to being terrified of all things and persons magical. "Y-you can't do magic outside of school! You'll get expelled!"
Hermione shook her head, and Ron growled, "Not ruddy likely, you big stupid git."
"They're both seventeen," Harry told him. "They can do magic outside of school now."
"But not in front of – of people who aren't – aren't like you!" Dudley protested desperately, now backing away with his hands held protectively in front of himself.
"You mean, who aren't great lumps like you who like beating people up because they 'cheek' you?" Harry said angrily.
"You want me to hex him for you, Harry?" Ron asked, waving his wand in Dudley's face. "Maybe he'd like a nose to go with the tail Hagrid gave him."
Dudley's eyes grew large and frightened. Back when Harry first met Hagrid, Vernon Dursley had insulted Professor Dumbledore. Hagrid, in retaliation, had cast a spell causing Dudley to sprout a pig's tail (although Hagrid later told Harry he'd been trying to turn him into a pig). Dudley took a step back, alternately covering his buttocks and his nose with his hands, as if that could protect them.
"Nah," Harry said. He stepped up to Dudley, who now with no gang to stand behind him was almost cowering in fear. "It would really be fun to hex you good, Dudley, for all the times you chased me and stuffed me into trash cans or pounded me. But you'll notice I've never done anything to you in all these years."
"Because you weren't allowed!" Dudley squeaked, in spite of himself.
"And now that I can do something, I'm still not," Harry reminded him. "You're still my cousin, even if you do hate me and are a right foul git. I don't hate you, Dudley. I guess the point is, I just don't care about you right now, which is probably worse."
"We're going to go, now." Harry waved a hand over Dudley's gang laying about on the sidewalk. "Your friends will wake up in a while. You'd better tell them you were joking about the magic stuff – tell them what we did was hypnosis, or something like that, and that we knocked them out with sleeping powder or something –"
"They won't believe that!" Dudley protested.
"You'd be surprised what people accept rather than believe in magic," Harry said coolly. He grabbed his trunk and jerked his thumb for Dudley to move out of his way. Dudley hurriedly walked around him, stopping in the middle of his gang who were still out cold or frozen on the sidewalk. "See you, Dudders," Harry called over his shoulder, and he, Ron and Hermione continued up Privet Drive after Hermione flicked her wand at Dennis, who sagged to the ground as the Body-Bind curse was lifted.
"That was brilliant, Harry!" Ron enthused after they had walked a dozen yards or so. "I thought he was going to wet himself when I offered to give him a pig nose to go with his tail."
"I wouldn't have done that anyway," Hermione sniffed. "It would have made him look much too handsome." Harry and Ron looked at her and began laughing. She smiled proudly at her joke.
They walked on for a half block, then Harry started looking around for someplace unobtrusive where they could call the Knight Bus. Hedwig suddenly hooted and Harry looked at her in her cage. She seemed agitated. "What is it, Hedwig?" Harry said softly. "What's got you riled up?"
"I see what," Hermione said suddenly, looking up. "Owl's coming."
Harry turned and followed her gaze. A large brown owl was descending toward them. It landed on Harry's trunk, holding a large parchment envelope in its beak, which Harry took and ripped open, knowing before he even got the letter out what it was going to say:
Dear Mr. Potter,
We have again received information that you have performed magic in a Muggle-inhabited area.
While apparently no Muggles were with you at the time, this again constitutes a breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and we regret to inform you that you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, pending a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic scheduled for 2 p.m. on July 14th.
Please report to the Magical Law Enforcement Office at this time, and be prepared to surrender your wand for destruction if you are found guilty of the charges.
Hoping you are well,
Yours sincerely,
Malfada Hopkirk
Improper use of magic office
Ministry of Magic
"Perfect," Harry said bitterly. "Just perfect."
"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"You were right about the magic," he said, handing her the letter. "They decided it was me doing it in my room and I've been expelled. Again."
Hermione was shaking her head. "Well, this is just wrong. You didn't do any magic! We'll have to come along to your hearing and tell your side of the story."
Ron, reading over her shoulder, was shaking his head as well. "Hermione, you know those trolls at the Ministry have it in for Harry. He barely made it out of there the last time, and that was with Dumbledore's help."
"And it doesn't matter anyway," Harry added. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts."
"Well, we can sort that out later," Hermione said, making Harry frown slightly. What was there to sort out? "For now we've got to get back to the Burrow as soon as possible and let Ron's father and the Order know what's happened." She put out her wand hand.
BANG.
A violently purple, triple-decker bus appeared out of nowhere at the curb in front of them. The door opened and a youth in a purple uniform looked down at them. Unlike the gangly, pimple-faced Stan Shunpike, the new Knight Bus conductor was larger and more solidly build. Having seen the three of them, his face was now wearing a sneer, a face that Harry found familiar –
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, Potter," the conductor drawled, and Harry finally recognized him. It was Adrian Pucey, a Slytherin he'd played Quidditch against last year. He made no move to help them on, just waved a hand airily at them as he stepped back from the door. "Come on, then, if you're getting on, we don't have all day." Ron and Hermione followed Harry, dragging his trunk, onto the Bus.
As usual for daytime, the Bus had an assortment of mismatched chairs placed haphazardly around the windows of the Bus. It was not very crowded at the moment, only a dozen or so curious eyes followed them as they made their way to a group of unoccupied seats. Pucey followed them and asked condescendingly, "Where are you headed now? Off to summer school for remedial Potions with Potter?"
"Back to the Burrow," Ron snapped. He handed over 14 Sickles for the fare; Hermione followed suit and Harry dug some coins out of his pocket and dropped them in Pucey's outstretched hand. Pucey sneered and walked away.
BANG.
The Bus lurched violently and half the passengers fell out of their seats. Harry had managed to stay upright by grabbing a candleholder. Ron and Hermione were still seated as well. They'd pulled up in front of the Leaky Cauldron, and as a few of the passengers got off Hermione whispered to Harry, "When we first got on he tried to charge us two Galleons each to come get you, until Ernie stopped him."
"Talk about highway robbery," Ron muttered. Just then an elderly witch coming up from the rear of the bus stopped besides their chairs.
"Hello, dears," she said quaveringly, looking closely at Ron, who blinked and glanced sideways at Harry and Hermione as she peered at him. "Sorry, love, I thought you were someone else. I'm heading for their shop in Diagon Alley – they sell a perfect road sickness remedy."
"Do you mean the Weasleys' shop?" Hermione said, making the connection. "Ron here is their brother," she added despite Ron's furtive hand motions trying to cut her off.
"Is he now?" the elderly lady beamed at Ron, displaying a yellowed but perfect set of teeth. Ron smiled up weakly at her. "I'm Madam Marsh," she said, by way of introduction. "I just adore those lads," she continued as she patted Ron absently on his red-thatched head. "They're always so sweet and courteous! And they give me a good discount, too. They even gave me some remedy for free when I was a bit, er, behind, gold-wise."
Harry remembered her now; she had been on the bus two Christmases ago when they traveled back to Hogwarts on the Knight Bus. The trip back had been quite bumpy and she'd been ill, leading Stan and Ernie to drop her off first thing after they'd boarded, to the relief of the other passengers.
Hermione had remembered too, evidently. "How have you been feeling lately?" Ron winced and Harry stifled a smile; he, like Ron, knew you never asked an older person how they were feeling unless you had plenty of time to spare for the reply.
"Not too bad, not too bad," Madam Marsh said. "My arthritis hasn't been acting up lately, and my old legs are still getting me around, but –"
"Let's get a move on, there," Pucey's drawling voice interrupted her. "We got other passengers who're waiting –" There was a harrumph from the driver's seat; Ernie Prang, the Bus's driver, had cut Pucey off.
"We've got a bit of time to spare," Ernie said softly. It was one of the few times Harry had ever heard him speak. Pucey glared at him, annoyed, but shrugged and said nothing more.
Madam Marsh, however, decided it was time for her to go as well. "Take care, dearies, I've got to dash." She waved then turned and walked slowly to the front, where she gave Ernie a few affectionate pats on his shoulder; apparently they knew one another well, then climbed slowly down the steps to the curb in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Ernie cranked the doors closed.
BANG.
The scenery jumped again, this time to the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole, the small village north of the Burrow, as the Bus rumbled down the road leading away from town and turned onto the lane that lead to the Burrow. Several people were still picking themselves up off the floor when the Bus slowed to a stop.
"End of the line," Pucey informed them, and Harry began gathering up his trunk. Ron took Hedwig's cage again and they made their way to the front of the bus where Pucey watched them with hooded eyes.
Ernie had turned to watch them disembark as well, and when Harry went by he made a point of saying, "Thanks, Ernie," to the driver, ignoring Pucey. Ernie grinned and touched the brim of his cap as they each went by. Hermione was the last to step off the Bus and as she did, the doors closed and the Bus rumbled forward, making a U-turn, literally, by twisting back on itself in the middle of the lane until it pointed back the way it had come, then disappeared with a final loud BANG.
"I wonder what Stan's doing now?" Harry wondered again as the Bus departed. "He was loads better at his job than Pucey is."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "He wasn't much of a Quidditch player, either."
"We'd better go in," Hermione said urgently, "So we can figure out what to do about the letter." She hurried up the path to the Burrow as Ron and Harry followed her lugging Hedwig's cage and Harry's trunk.
"Welcome back!" Mrs. Weasley, her plump face lighting up as they trudged in the door. She hurried over to give welcoming hugs to Hermione and Harry. It felt nice, Harry thought, to actually be welcomed into a home rather than being allowed in, grudgingly, resentfully, as every homecoming to Privet Drive had felt like. Mrs. Weasley beamed at him and Hermione and gestured to the scrubbed table in the middle of the kitchen. "Sit down, I'll fix up something for you to eat."
"I just finished breakfast a while ago," Harry said, not sitting. But just then his nose filled with the savory aroma of cooking: kippers, eggs, biscuits and toast. "But –" he added, pulling out the chair and seating himself along with Hermione and Ron, "I could eat a bit more."
"Well, look what the Bus dragged in," a familiar voice said and Harry turned to see Fred and his twin George come into the room. They each shook his hand, then Harry said, "It looks like no joy for your favorite customer if you're home – she was looking forward to seeing you again."
"You mean Madam Marsh?" Fred said, grabbing a piece of toast off of Ron's plate.
"We took care of her before popping home," George said, taking a biscuit.
"She does love our No Chunder Wonder Elixir," Fred added. "Very fitting since it was she who gave us the idea." Fred and George had also been on the Knight Bus the day Madam Marsh had been ill on the lowest level.
"If you two want to eat, sit down at the table and I'll fix you something," Mrs. Weasley said crossly. "Don't go nicking food from everyone else's plates."
"Nicked food always tastes better, Mum," Fred said with a wink at Harry, who grinned. "We used to get loads of it when we were at school."
"Considering that house-elves were more than happy to give food to anyone who came down to the kitchen," Hermione said matter-of-factly, "It wasn't much like nicking it, was it?"
"Well it was the principle of the thing, you know," George said with a shrug.
"Hermione says it's been busy here this week," Harry said to Mrs. Weasley as she put his plate in front of him.
"Oh, it's been a madhouse, dear – a madhouse!" she said as she hurried back to the stove. "Fleur and Gabrielle have been here for a week getting things ready, and Bill and Mr. Weasley have been working on the yard, with Ron's help these last few days since school's let out." She turned and fanned herself with her apron. "Fleur and I sent out invitations just this Monday; it took us all day Sunday to write them out. The replies have been pouring in. We'll barely have room for everybody, even out in the yard. We may have to – ah, here's the bride-to-be herself!" Mrs. Weasley changed her thought in mid-sentence as Fleur Delacour entered the kitchen.
"'Ello, everyone! Ah, 'Arry!" Fleur said, spotting Harry. She bent over and kissed him on the cheek. "'Ow 'ave you been?"
"Fine," Harry said, smiling at her. Originally cool to him when she first came to Hogwarts during the Tri-Wizard Tournament three years ago, Fleur warmed up to him after the second task when Harry rescued her younger sister Gabrielle. It apparently hadn't mattered to Fleur that, while Harry had thought that her sister, Ron, Hermione and Cho Chang had been kidnapped somehow by the merpeople of the lake near Hogwarts, that it had merely been part of the arrangements for the task. "Are you looking forward to the wedding?"
Fleur laughed, a sound that sent tingles down Harry's spine. "Of course, of course! What bride doesn't look forward to 'er wedding day? 'As Bill asked you to stand in the wedding party yet, 'Arry? You will make quite the dashing addition to the groomsmen. Won't 'e, Molly?" she asked, turning to Mrs. Weasley.
"Oh yes," she agreed, beaming at Harry. "Bill already has his suit picked out." Harry was beginning to get the feeling he was going to be in the wedding party whether he wanted to or not.
Ginny walked into the kitchen at that moment, and she and Harry locked eyes for a moment. Harry felt a pang of regret that he'd broken up with her at Dumbledore's funeral. With Bill and Fleur getting married in a few days, it would be more difficult than ever to remain resolved not to be with her until Voldemort was dead. But there was no other choice – Harry did not want anything to happen to Ginny.
"Hi Harry," Ginny said brightly. "Long time no see. Welcome back to the Burrow." She, at least, Harry thought, didn't seem to be suffering from any the effects of their breakup.
"Hi Ginny," Harry greeted her in return. "It's nice to be back again." He'd just finished off his plate and as he put down his fork Mrs. Weasley waved her wand and his, Ron and Hermione's plates all floated over to the sink.
"Ron, now that you're done, take Harry's trunk upstairs to your room," she said briskly. "And I've got some other things for you to take care of after that." She turned and levitated Fred and George's now-empty plates to the sink as well.
"I'll help him," Harry said, getting up as well. "It's a bit heavy."
"I need to go up to my room for a moment," Hermione said, following Ron and Harry as they carried the trunk up the stairs.
"We're popping off too," Fred said, giving his mother a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Back to the old grind," George added, following suit. "We'll see you all later," he called up after them. "Bye, Mum," they both said in unison to Mrs. Weasley, then walked out the door and past the gate, where they Disapparated.
Ron's room was right under the attic, but with both Ron and Harry carrying his trunk it wasn't very long before they'd made it up to his room. Hermione walked in a moment later, after she'd stopped off at her room "for a moment," as she'd told Mrs. Weasley, she'd run up to join them. She carefully shut the door behind them and said to Harry, "So what do you think we should do about your letter?"
Ron, now stretched out on his bed, muttered, "I thought you were keen to tell Mum the minute we got here."
"Well, she was in such a good mood I didn't want to spoil it for her," Hermione said plaintively. "We can wait for Mr. Weasley to get home – he may know about it already."
Harry had pulled the letter from his trunk and was reading it again, getting more and more irritated by the second. "Yeah, I'm sure it's the top news at the Ministry water coolers – 'Harry Potter charged again in trumped-up Ministry attempt to discredit him.' What I don't know," he said, waving the letter in front of him, "Is what their game is this time. A few days ago Rufus Scrimgeour was asking me to be the Ministry's poster boy."
"Maybe he's decided to stop playing around and come after you," Ron suggested darkly. "Like Fudge did."
"Cornelius Fudge was afraid that Professor Dumbledore was planning to take over his job as Minister of Magic," Hermione reminded them. "They offered Dumbledore the job before Fudge; I think he was rather envious of Dumbledore's prestige in the Wizarding community."
"He must've been," Ron agreed. "To send us Umbridge."
Unconsciously Harry glanced down at his right hand. The scars of his detentions with Dolores Umbridge were still barely visible there, the marks of a magical quill that cut into his flesh the lines she had set him writing. It was easy to imagine that she would have advised Scrimgeour to have him expelled for the least reason. And imagining that was making him more and more angry at the lackadaisical way the Ministry verified its facts. Scrimgeour was supposed to be a former Auror, for Merlin's sake! Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione.
"Right," he said firmly. "We're going to fight them."
"All right Harry!" Ron cheered, and Hermione smiled broadly. Just then there was a knock at the door and Ginny's voice said, "It's me."
"Come on in," Ron called, and Ginny stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.
"What's up?" she asked. "I heard you cheering Harry on." Harry handed her the Ministry letter and she read it, her expression growing more incredulous by the moment. "What rubbish!" she finally said fiercely. "Have they nothing better to do than watch Harry's house for magic spells!?"
"Wasn't even me," Harry said pointedly. "Ron and Hermione were packing up my things. They thought it was me."
"But we'll get it sorted out," Hermione said, taking the letter and putting it back in the parchment envelope.
But Ginny now looked stricken, "Oh blimey," she said softly. "I forgot to tell you," she said, looking worriedly at Ron and Hermione. A couple of owls arrived a few minutes before you got here today. I was going to give you the letters when I saw you, but with everything going on today, I forgot…" She reached into the apron she was wearing and pulled out two parchment envelopes very similar to the one Harry had gotten.
"Oh, no," Hermione said, looking at the envelopes. She took them from Ginny and, passing the one with Ron's name on it to him, opened hers and read:
Dear Miss Granger,
We have received information that you have performed magic in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of one or more Muggles.
While you are now of age to perform magic outside of school premises, section 14 of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy clearly prohibits the performance of magic while in the presence of Muggles. We regret to inform you that you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, pending a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic scheduled for 3 p.m. on August 5th.
Please report to the Magical Law Enforcement Office at this time, and be prepared to surrender your wand for destruction if you are found guilty of the charges.
Hoping you are well,
Yours sincerely,
Malfada Hopkirk
Improper use of magic office
Ministry of Magic
She looked up at Harry, dumbstruck. Her mouth actually opened a few times as she tried to speak, but nothing came out. "It must be pretty bad," Ginny said matter-of-factly, then looked over Hermione's shoulder at the letter. "Yep, she's expelled. What about you, Ron?"
"The same," he said morosely. "It's not that I care so much about being expelled – we were defending ourselves – but Mum's going to kill me when she sees this. Two years a prefect, and now – expelled!"
"Don't be silly," Hermione snapped. She'd found her voice again, and it was shaking with anger. "They can't expel us like this – it's, it's just stupid!"
"Welcome to the club," Harry said.