Part five
Summertime summertime end of summertime
End of summertiiiiime…
(OK if you have no idea what song I'm talking about, google the Jamies: summertime, summertime. It's not terribly good, it is terribly campy, and a total earworm.)
~~ summer montage. Mine go this fast, too. ~~
And so, Harry spent his lonely summer. He spent time traveling the area in disguise. In a used bookstore, he purchased a few books he remembered wanting to read but never getting around to. Shakespeare and Heinlein and Hardy and Austen were a lot easier to read with a 23-year-old mind than a 15-year-old one. Used book stores had a lot of copies of them, too. For a few pounds, he had entertainment for the summer.
Of course, he got a discman and speakers for his best girl and enchanted them to work at Hogwarts. He took Dudley's discarded boom box (as they were passe and Dudley had a top-of-the-line stereo system now) for himself, sneaking into the house to purloin some of the discards from his old room and fix them up to work under magics. He wasn't as addicted to music as Hermione, but it was nice to have in the background in the tent.
It made him feel a little less lonely.
He did continue to stop in thrift shops hither and yon, buying up men's clothes in natural fibers. He had no reason to buy anything new – and that frugality that was a holdover from his old life, when he'd had to make do with what he could get by his own work, would follow him through life. He had a good nest-egg from the room of requirement, and he took the time to "find" lost coins and money as he traveled.
The only things he did purchase new were unmentionables, socks, t-shirts, and spandex for warmth during quiddich. He wished performance fabrics were out – they were his favorite, being light and warm – but they weren't easy to charm or enchant. If he remembered correctly, he had to wait at least a few years for UnderArmor to come around.
Harry stayed at privet until end of July, talking to Hermione daily, then had Kreacher pop him to Grimmauld. He left a letter for the Dursleys. "I found somewhere else to stay for the rest of the summer. See you next year."
Vernon and Petunia were rather put out; they'd have to pay for lawn service for the remainder of the summer. But in all, it was the best summer the Dursleys had since 1981, so they were grateful.
When Harry landed in Grimmauld, he noted how clean and welcoming it looked. All the pests and dark objects were long gone, so their shadow, or residue, was decaying, also. His bedroom was painted a warm color as were the kitchen and dining rooms.
It was the end of July, his body turned 14 in just a few hours, and he was anxious for his confrontation with the Goblin Horde.
"I've been thinking about it." Hermione said.
"Uh-oh," Harry teased.
"Shut it. First, you should wait about two weeks. Lull the bastards into a sense of false complacency."
Harry nodded. "They'll be expecting me right about my birthday. If I go in a fortnight, they'll think I'm just getting money for school stuff. Perfect."
"Oh, I'm not nearly done. Now, when you claim your vaults, you should thank them. I mean, really, really thank them. Rub salt in that wound. You don't know they're planning to steal it all from you, of course. You're just being polite. And since you can't just walk away with it all, laws and such, you can at least make them know that you are aware of just how much you are taking out of their greedy, grasping hands."
Harry chuckled. "Hell, woman, you've got a vindictive streak."
"You bet I do. Make sure you get linked copies of the ledgers for all three vaults – investment, heirloom, and family. Talk to them about the details, so they know you'll be watching."
"What about my trust vault?"
"Do you really want to know if anyone's stolen anything from you? You know you won't be able to get it back."
"But I would be able to rub it in Dumbledore's face, if it went out under his watch."
"True. I'd be bitter."
"I already lived a life where I'd lost it all. Anything I get will be better."
"You're right. That's a healthy attitude. Speaking of healthy, or unhealthy: you've got draught of living death?"
"Yeah, Dobby stole it from Snape. Don't know why the git had it, but now I have a few doses."
"You should also have one of the elves get some Polyjuice."
"What? That stuff is nasty. Why do I need it?"
"The things I do for you," she sighed. "You know I'm going to Ireland. We know their ministry is not in cahoots with Fudge and his ilk. You give me Pettigrew. I'll take Polyjuice of some old codger of a wizard. Make up some story about how I found the snake, following pretty much what you do, assuming you get it all done. You'll be at the world cup in the top box when Pettigrew gets turned in."
"That's brilliant. They'll never suspect me as I'll be with Fudge the whole time."
"Exactly."
"And you have to swallow that vile slime."
"As I said, the things I do for you."
"Love you, Hermione."
"You'd better," she teased.
Over the next fortnight, Harry used the wards over Grimmauld to hide his already masked magic. He worked alongside the elves, fixing, cleaning, painting. He aged himself and hit up boot sales and rummage shops around the country, finding furniture to replace the oppressive furnishings and dark motifs with more palatable ones that blended with his choices in décor.
He hoped that Sirius would like the place, if they could manage to get him freed. He'd been able to exchange two letters with the guy, asking if he could at least get physically healthy while he was in hiding.
Hopefully, when Hermione got the rat to the Irish coppers, it would be enough to win Sirius's freedom.
Mid-August came quickly, with Harry going to the bank, just as Hermione suggested he do.
"I still don't know if I'm surprised or relieved that the only thing missing from all the vaults was the invisibility cloak," Harry admitted when he told Hermione of the transactions that night.
"Well, I'm sure the little cretins kept a good guard on your stuff, as they were going to get it all when you turned sixteen. Tell me again how bitter they were at losing your accounts."
"They haven't lost my accounts; they simply are held to the 5% on profits that they've always made, as opposed to the full monty. But yes, Grimsneer was fit to be tied, though he tried to hide it. My wide-eyed thank you really seemed to stick in his craw. You absolutely called it on that."
"And your understanding of the details infuriated them?" Her eyebrow arched, she waited for details.
Hary grinned. "Utterly. I acted the ingenu, but had all the gory details down. Watching them see they couldn't catch me flat-footed wasn't quite as good as gutting Grimsneer would be, and not nearly as satisfying as sex, but it was pretty brill."
"Don't mention sex," Hermione sighed. "We can't have sex until we're sixteen. It can destabilize our magic. Did you realize this?"
"I didn't. Last time, I didn't want anything more than snogging. I think maybe my puberty was delayed last time as my body was trying to recover from starvation. This time, I'm wanking like nobody's business."
"It's my business. And I'm right there with you. Two years."
"Two years."
"I've heard of delayed gratification, but this is ridiculous."
"Well, we have our memories."
"I suppose. Change the subject. I'm getting itchy."
"OK. Dobby and Kreacher spotted Wormtail today."
She froze. "You're going to Riddle tonight? And you're just telling me now?"
"Yeah." He sighed. "I'm a bit worried."
"You've got the draught of living death for Riddle? The cage is ready for the worm? Dobby can stun the snake?"
"If not, he's also practiced with the dagger. He's shown me how he can snap it into a target in milliseconds."
Hermione shook her head but said nothing. She knew that the snake was really a witch trapped in snake form by a blood curse. But it could very well be that the mind of the witch was completely gone. Lord knew, Nagini had done some evil crap the last time around. Hermione let it go.
That night, just after dusk, Harry called the elves to him in the parlor.
"You guys feeling good? Lots of energy? Ready to capture a dark lord?"
Kreacher stared heavily. "Kreacher get bad wizard who hurt Master Regulus."
Dobby just nodded briefly, and the fact that he stopped at nodding once showed how serious he was. He wasn't even bouncing.
"We have the cage, the basilisk dagger, and the cursed blade, yes?"
"We ready, Master Harry." Dobby insisted. "Dobby can snap dagger right into bad snake if Dobby has to." Dobby nodded again, almost sternly.
"Remember. Rat." Harry counted the three enemies off on his hand. "Huge mother of a snake. And a dark lord in a toddler suit. Don't underestimate ANY of them. They'll kill us dead at the smallest opening. I don't want either of you hurt." He saw that the elves understood the gravity of the situation. An outsider would have been a little disconcerted: a fourteen-year-old acting the tactical leader of two elves who seemed to have taken on almost human-like gravitas. But Harry was no teenager, and the elves took on what their master wished them to take on. His magic was making them behave in an atypical elf manner… but it worked for them.
Lucius Malfoy would have killed them all for the temerity. Or because they existed. Lucius really liked killing; he just had a veneer of polite society that the most ardent death eaters lacked.
"Ok," Harry continued, seeing their comprehension. "Kreacher. If there are any other humans around – and I think there might be one – you simply stun them. We'll obliviate them afterwards, if we have to. Ready to go?"
The elves nodded. Kreacher popped Harry while Dobby popped Dobby. They landed in a pre-silenced area, very close to the window Harry remembered from his old dreams, and Harry looked around. He saw Frank Bryce stalking to the house, peering into the windows. Why had the man decided to check out the derelict mansion that night? Then Harry saw the firelight, flickering in that window.
Pettigrew was really, deeply stupid. If he'd had to live on the run for a year as public enemy number 1 – or undesirable number 1 as the magicals called it – without his animagus form? He'd have been seriously perished within a few weeks. He had no comprehension of op sec.
Shaking his head, Harry nudged Kreacher who nodded. He snapped and Bryce fell to the ground.
"Nagini? You think there is someone spying on us? Well, well. That won't do. Of course, you may go eat them, my love, so long as you won't get indigestion." The high-pitched whining voice of toddler-mort carried on the windless night to where the three invaders spied.
As the great snake came out the front door toward the supine old man, Dobby snapped.
The serpent paused, looking suddenly in Harry's direction. She had felt the stunning spell from the elf, but it did jack all to her.
"Dagger, now," Harry whispered. Dobby snapped again, and the dagger imbedded itself in the body of the snake. She had moved to avoid it, but it still got part of her coils. Her death throes were quick and violent. The basilisk venom did the trick.
As Dobby magicked the dagger back, a scream of rage and pain came from the house. "Wormtail! Something has attacked my Nagini. Find them. Kill them!"
Pettigrew, not knowing the lay of the land, took advantage of his one superpower. He morphed into a rat and scurried to the door.
Unfortunately for him, the trio was waiting for the traitor to do just that. Kreacher stunned the rat as soon as it darted out the door and levitated it to the waiting cage.
Harry smiled at the rat, now captured in a cage that would keep him stunned, unable to see, hear, or smell the world around him. Then, Harry pulled out the cursed dagger and chopped off Pettigrew's back legs. The knife sealed the wounds immediately. There would be no growing them back.
Even if the cage failed, Pettigrew would never escape again. Even Kreacher grinned in approval.
As Dobby shrunk the corpse of Nagini, putting it into a stasis box, the three could hear the caterwauling of voldietot from the house.
"Pettigrew, where are you? You miserable worm. I am in need of my medicine soon, and we shall require a different source of death adder venom. Wormtail!"
The shrieks and demands were almost pitiful coming from this sprog. When Harry strode into the room with his elves, the little nipper paused in his tantrum.
"Potter?!" Shock, fury, and excitement warred in the red eyes. "I shall kill you for your temerity! Generations will weep at your fate!" The strange amalgamation of toddler and dark lord – truly a terror tot – lifted its small arm, obviously pooling what magical energy it had. Its red eyes glowed with menace. "nazfl…"
Whatever evil spell he was planning on tossing Harry's way stopped abruptly with the loss of his wand arm to the cursed black blade. Voldemort watched his arm fall to the floor with a mixture of disbelief and incandescent rage. "Potter!" He turned his eyes back to his nemesis and began to try mind magics.
His probes bounced off Harry's occlumency.
"Let's dose him up." Harry walked over to the literally disarmed Voldemort and held its mouth open while Dobby pulled the stopper from the test tube containing draught of living death. Voldemort tried to turn his head – as toddlers throughout time have tried to avoid eating veg – and he was just about as successful.
Within seconds, he was frozen. Still ugly, but frozen.
"Master," Kreacher began hesitantly. "Whys not kills it with snakey-dagger?"
Harry inhaled sharply through his nose, nodding and breaking eye contact with the form of his fallen enemy.
"Good question. See, I killed his holder before – when I was a first year." The two elves' eyes widened, impossibly, at that information. "If we haven't found all his horcrux - treasures, he'll just float off to do more evil. I'm waiting to find the opportunity to throw this part through the veil of death."
Kreacher furrowed his brow then nodded. "Master is wise. We put bad baby, sleepy rat, and dead snake in dungeon. For now."
And just like that, the dark lord who terrorized a good portion of Harry's existence was gone.
Harry spoke with Hermione again as soon as he was back in his tent. "It's done."
Her surprise and relief were evident. "You've got the rat?" she whispered.
"In a cage, sleeping like he took the draught instead of Voldie, sans two back legs. And voldie is down a wand arm and in stasis. Both of them are in Grimmauld's dungeon."
Hermione smirked. "Good."
"Yeah. You have the Polyjuice and hair?"
"Yep, Dobby popped it to me, and it's small enough to carry around. My parents will go to some museum or something and I'll beg an afternoon alone. I think the day of the world cup would be best."
"Probably. I know the Irish minister will be at the match, along with most of the magical Irish population, but they surely will have patrols in magical areas still." Harry hoped that the Irish were sensible enough for that, anyhow.
Hermione bit her lip. "I was wondering, where did you get the hair? I'd like to know who I'm going to be."
"OK, so this is a weird death eater thing that I wish I didn't know, or I wish everybody knew. Malfoy, apparently, keeps polyjuice and hairs in stock. Apparently, he and his lads like to impersonate light wizards and get the light wizards in trouble."
Hermione huffed. "They are such sacks of shite. Seriously. But, who's the guy I'm impersonating?"
"His name is – ha – Guy Pigswain. From Sussex. I know where Sussex is, but that is all I know about it."
"What a horrid name. But. I thinks I can do a passable accent," Hermione said with what Harry assumed was a Sussex accent. "My granddad was from Sussex."
It was fate, obv. "Excellent."
"What did you do with the snake?" she asked, almost not wanting to know.
"Nagini is dead." There was no way to sugar coat it.
"That is so sad. You remember what Newt Scamander said about her?"
"She was possessed by his horcrux, Hermione. There was no saving her. She was trapped in hell. We freed her." Harry defended his actions. Nagini was no innocent, but Hermione would never understand that.
She sighed heavily. "I suppose." Then she stopped and shook her head. "No. I know. You're right. It is just so horrifying."
"As one who is involuntarily hosting him, I can say I definitely agree. Kreacher shrunk her corpse and put it in a stasis box. The rat is in a cage. You can deliver both to the Irish. What are you going to tell them?"
Hermione bit the side of her lip then nodded shortly. "I knows that snake from back in the war." Hermione started with her accent, setting up her story. "That's You Know Who's familiar that is. And the rat is a death eater. I cuts 'is legs off because 'e confessed to killing muggles and escapin' as a rat."
"That works. Dobby?"
"Master Harry calls? Oh, Hello Miss Herminny." Dobby waved at the mirror and Hermione smiled and waved back, greeting Dobby.
"You know what to do?" Harry asked the elf.
"Dobby will deliver rat in cage to Miss Herminny calls when she near Irish magics. Dobby stay, invisible like, with Miss Herminny until she gives nod to disappears."
Harry smiled. "Perfect, mate. You and Kreacher good? Settled after our excitement?"
"Dobby not knows how Dobby and Kreacher will just be house elves now. Dobby likes sneaky sneaky works."
"Oh, we still have lots of this to go. And I'm sure we can find things for you to sneak about afterwards. After all, there are still death eaters."
Dobby nodded seriously "Too many deathy munchers, Dobby thinks." The elf then looked back at the mirror. "Dobby waits for miss Herminny to call from Ireland for next sneaky sneaky works."
"Speaking of being near Irish magics. My family is heading to Dublin tomorrow. We're sharing a hotel room just for the night, so I won't be able to call. But I'll mirror you the night after, ok?"
"I'm spoiled, but I understand."
The next time they spoke, Hermione was in her grandmother's cottage garden. Her parents were drinking wine in the parlor, listening to music. She kept an ear for them, but wanted to talk to Harry.
"How is it there?" he asked.
"Green." He chuckled and she turned the mirror, showing him the garden in dusk. "Seriously. We've been in Dublin the last day, touring and visiting trinity college. The Book of Kells is incredibly interesting. It's warded."
"Magical?" Harry asked, somehow surprised. He supposed that he'd never really given much thought to magical artifacts outside Britain.
She nodded, "Certainly. I was able to get a map of magical Ireland before we hit the road. My gran's cottage – which is where we are now – is smack in the middle of the magical section of county Kerry. There's even a quidditch team down here."
"Yeah, the Kestrals. They invited me to try out, last time." Harry's voice was nonchalant, but Hermione wasn't letting that go. She'd never heard of it before.
Must have been when she was still with Ronald?
"Why didn't you?"
He shrugged. "Pay wasn't as good as what I made enchanting, and you know Ireland and Britain were still not reciprocating with travel and tax… I'd have had to give up my British citizenship…" his voice trailed off, as he knew neither of those things would have been close to enough to stop him. He'd no real ties to Britain before they left.
"Which wouldn't have been so bad?" Hermione prompted, wanting the real reasoning.
"You were working for the British ministry," Harry pointed out. "You were the only reason I stayed."
"Harry…" she shook her head. "I would have left for you. I only stayed because you did! I had nothing here, either!"
He chuckled. "We have to work on this communication thing."
"Seriously. Anyhow," that water was under the bridge… or would never go under the bridge now? She decided to go back to the original subject. "My parents had someone open the cottage for us. There's a little village close by, and my mum has brought her art supplies. My dad has brought a few books. We're just going to chill."
"Somehow, I don't see the words Granger and chill in the same sentence, unless there's a negative in there."
"Or alcohol," Hermione agreed. "And I can't have alcohol. But I have an assignment, and I'm moving ahead in my muggle work, so it's all good."
"I got the invite from the Weasleys today. I had Dobby watching the last few days for Molly to send it. He pulled it right from the postman's bag. I sent back a letter Hedwig Express saying I'd take the Knight Bus Sunday."
"You and Ron will have fun."
"We will. You won't get to see Victor."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm still trying to figure how to avoid him at Hogwarts. I was thinking…"
"That's a shock," Harry deadpanned.
"Shut it. I was thinking you should come home with me for Yule holiday."
"I would love to." He didn't hesitate, at all. "But don't you want to go to the Yule Ball?"
"I have no interest in that fiasco, or in being a hostage in the second event."
Harry's eyes widened. "I'd forgot about that. I won't be a part of it this time, I don't think, but Victor…" Harry sighed. "We're definitely going to Crawley for hols, if your parents will have me."
"They will. And we can sneak into the ministry – maybe that very night? - and toss Voldiebaby through the veil."
Harry smiled. "Best Yule present ever! Excellent planning!"
"Well," she equivocated, "it's really just the outline of a plan."
"We make an excellent team. I'm too spontaneous and you're…"
"A stick in the mud?"
"Never! But you do tend to get into analysis paralysis stages pretty easily."
"Let's agree that we balance each other and leave off, yeah?"
"Yes, dear."
"Harry? Good luck with the Weasleys."
"Ron and I will have a blast. I'll put him up to challenging the twins."
"You'll be pulvierized!" Hermione gasped
"Yeah, but maybe it will keep him from resenting me."
"Too much. Probably. I hope."
"Yeah. Look, since I'm sharing with Ron, I won't be able to call you tomorrow night. I'll get separated after the cup, though, and call you that night."
"OK. Be careful."
"You too. You've got my heart with you."
She smiled, warm from the inside out, and said goodnight.
~~ all the action happens next chapter! I promise! It should be up later this week. ~~