A/n: Yes, I sinned! I pinched out a few hours of study time to write. I'm going to student-hell :s
Chapter 18.
Famous Harry Potter
"Harry?"
The raven thought Ron's voice sounded like Hermione's, high-pitched and squeaky. The only times he'd heard his redheaded friend sound like that was when they'd encountered spiders. It had made Harry laugh. He wasn't laughing now.
There was nothing in the world he felt like doing less than laughing. It was an inexistent thing at that moment. He didn't know what it was, and he felt like he would never do it again in his life.
"Harry?" Ron asked him again. The half-smile from before, when he hadn't been certain whether it was a joke or not, had vanished. It began to truly sink in to both Ron and Hermione. Harry had no parents. Worse even, they had been murdered.
The raven didn't turn away from Malfoy, Parkinson and the rest. He kept staring. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. The anger had subsided, leaving only the shock behind. Moreover, he didn't want to face his two mates. How could he?
After being ignored for a whole few minutes Ron prepared to try again, but Hermione pulled at his sleeve and gave a slight shake of the head with pursed lips. Ron wasn't known for his subtlety, but he was bright enough to understand he should leave Harry alone.
Shortly afterwards the bell rang and the afternoon classes started. Hermione took notes with more dedication than usual, the tip of her nose actually touching the page, though no one could actually see it. Her hair formed an impenetrable curtain on both sides of her face.
Ron on the other hand was a marble-like white. It was so unusual for anyone to see him like this that their teacher asked him if he was sick. He weakly shook his head, but otherwise let nothing show. Not a word was said about what they'd heard, which Harry was grateful for.
The raven was also most grateful that there was no literature class that day. He could not imagine being alert enough to keep up with Snape, and being in the same classroom with Malfoy…
"Shall we go to Hagrid's?" Hermione proposed tentatively as they walked to the gate, also remembering Harry was free. They had not yet gone all together, as they'd promised.
"I'm in." Ron said in a wobbly tone.
Harry nodded with his eyes fixed ahead. There was a good chance that his aunt and cousin were still away from home, and that Vernon was angry and bitter and drinking beer in front of the television. There was no rush for him to get home. In fact, the more he put it off, the more likely Vernon would be peacefully snoring on the sofa when he did go back, leaving him completely free like the day before.
Ron informed his mother at the gate, who talked to Hermione's father to organise things. Mr. Granger would drive the three of them immediately to Hagrid's, and would pick them up again afterwards and bring them home, where Mrs. Weasley would pick up Ron and Harry. But when Mr. Granger heard that they would be on foot, he insisted on driving everyone back home himself. It would be dark and cold after all, and Mrs. Weasley couldn't resist for long. It was soon agreed upon.
The mood was very quiet and subdued during the drive. Once there, they found Hagrid's cosy little house unlocked, and the giant himself nowhere in sight. The Grangers knew Hagrid never locked his door (no one was crazy enough to steal from him and risk being caught), and didn't mind if they went in and waited inside for him to come back. Hagrid went to the forest everyday, where he had a hut and a few cages and cared for animals which he planned to release back into the wild soon. He thought they would adapt more quickly if they were kept close to their future habitat.
Mr. Granger left the three friends seated around the table near the hearth, with the instruction to lock the door behind him until Hagrid's return, to not touch anything and call him if the giant hadn't returned within half an hour. Hermione assured her father they would be good and safe.
For a long time, the only thing that was heard was the creak of the wooden beams in Hagrid's ceiling as the wind raged outside. The sky visible through the windows had darkened to a grey/blue shade and Hermione stood up to turn on the lights.
The sound of her stirring broke the lethargy among them.
"Harry." Hermione addressed him this time when she was seated again. "It's true, isn't it?" Her fingers were firmly locked around her knees.
"Yes." Harry swallowed.
This was the second time people had found out. Mrs. Malfoy and Draco, and now Hermione and Ron. And Parkinson knew too, and god knew who else. Who else?
Oh, what did it matter? The entire school would know, the whole neighbourhood. Parkinson would never keep such information to herself. But why? What had they done to her to deserve this?
It was silly. A kind of feud had started between Harry and Draco simply because Harry had yelled at Draco not to break the swings in the park, the first time they'd met. Such a little thing had started this enmity between two groups. And now it had brought forth consequences the raven had never anticipated.
In the corner of the house, Hedwig was agitated. She had jumped out of her little makeshift nest and was trying to hop to the table where they sat, but was kept back by the leather strap Hagrid kept her on for her safety when he left. Her beak nibbled at the leather around her leg and she flapped her wings impatiently, although still unable to fly.
Harry approached her carefully, remembering what Hagrid had said about her sharp beak being dangerous. Hermione also cautioned him, but didn't intervene. Hedwig let him untie the leather, and then hopped up on his arm and proceeded to his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Oh!" Both Ron and Hermione exclaimed. "Doesn't that hurt?" The redhead wondered, seeing her still growing talons.
But though Harry felt the sharp tips of them digging through his large sweater, they didn't actually hurt him. He shook his head at Ron, and went back to sit in his seat. Hedwig then hopped onto his lap and nibbled his fingers. She was firm, but careful not to hurt him. Harry understood she was telling him she was hungry. After all the regular visits, the understanding between the two beings had strengthened considerably.
"She's beautiful." Hermione was short of breath.
"You think?" Ron said in the sarcastic tone that was much more like his usual self, but not quite. "She looks like a goblin in an owl-costume to me."
"I mean internal beauty, Ron!"
"Internal? What do you mean?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and didn't bother answering. But Harry knew what she meant. As he watched Hedwig, he was aware Ron was right about her appearance, but he could not help feeling like his heart was smiling. It relieved him of some of his burdensome sadness.
"Harry," Hermione began cautiously again, "how long has it been?"
Of course, each of them knew what she was talking about.
"Last summer. Three weeks before school started." Hedwig's new feathers were the softest things Harry had ever touched. He concentrated on their feel, their colour, their smell…
Both his friends' eyes widened. They couldn't believe they had seen Harry so shortly after it had happened, and they hadn't noticed anything. It hadn't been long at all. Not even a year had passed.
"Where do you live then?" Ron asked.
"With my aunt and uncle, and my cousin." Calling them his family, he again wondered how his parents, whom he had and still admired more than anyone in the world, could be in any way related to these…these… Petunia was Lily's sister. How was that possible? He couldn't find anything alike in them. No matter how much he dared scrutinize the narrow-minded woman.
There was a long silence again. Harry wished he knew where Hedwig's rats were, or how to chop them up. He didn't like seeing her hungry, or in any kind of suffering. He kept stroking her newly formed feathers. He hadn't done it before, but she let him and even seemed to enjoy it. He thought he heard a sharp and hardly audible sound coming from her chest, much like the sounds she'd made when he'd spent the night with her in his arms, over a month earlier.
"Harry, I'm so, so…"
But before Hermione could finish what Harry didn't want to hear, a scratching sound came from the door and she had to go and unlock it. Fang, Hagrid's big black dog, came springing through the door and almost toppled her to the floor. Then he took an interest in Ron and drooled all over his trousers. He didn't dare approach Harry however. Hedwig's feathers stood upright in order to make her look bigger than she was. Harry concluded she hadn't made friends with Fang yet.
Hagrid beamed as he came in, shaking fresh-fallen snow from his humongous coat. "Hermione! Harry! An'…" He trailed off.
"Ron." Hermione offered immediately.
Ron introduced himself awkwardly. He was clearly as intimidated by Hagrid's size as Harry had been the first time. All three of them could easily fit into the giant's coat, with room to spare.
"Ah, nice ter meet yer, Ron! I've heard o' yer." Hagrid shook hands heartily with Ron, enclosing most of the redhead's forearm with his hand. Ron just nodded and smiled weakly.
"Are yer all righ'?" Hagrid inquired, feeling that the atmosphere was quite heavy. They all smiled and nodded with as much enthusiasm as they could conjure, and Hagrid proceeded to making tea. He did not seem the least bit surprised about Hedwig's presence on Harry's knees, but he did express his delight.
"She's goin' ter be a fierce hunter, I'm sure. I bin feedin' her bigger pieces. Soon she'll swallow 'em whole." He announced proudly as he poured out the steaming tea. Hedwig nibbled his fingers too as he filled Harry's cup. "Ah, yeah, yer hungry, aren' yer."
Within the next minute, Hedwig was wrestling with a dead rat on the floor, tearing chunks off it herself and swallowing them with ease. All of them watched, mesmerized by her. But then Hagrid became aware of the shivering of his guests and hurried to build a good fire.
By the next morning, the raven felt slightly better. Talking with Hagrid about Hedwig and his other protégées, and coming home to find the house completely empty had out him in a better mood. (They were running low on food though. He didn't really want aunt Petunia to come back, but someone had to go to the store.) Loaded with a bagful of sweets and crisps, he set out for another day.
He'd almost forgotten about Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, until he arrived at school.
All day long, heads turned in the hallways and on the playground. "Harry Potter's parents were murdered" "I heard they were criminals." "They were chased and killed by the police." "They were sentenced to death!" "It was a shooting." "It was a drug overdose." "Harry Potter's a junkie."
All kinds of stories were being whispered in every corner. The most impossible and far-sought things.
"I'm surprised I haven't heard anything with aliens yet." Ron commented during the afternoon break, and took it upon him to glare at everyone who spoke Harry's name.
"Don't listen to them, Harry. It's nonsense…isn't it?" She added uncertainly.
Harry wasn't sure what to answer. He didn't know anything himself. He didn't want to know either. Which was true, which wasn't? He shrugged and pretended not to care, concentrating on a sheet of maths homework instead.
It wasn't long before they were overwhelmed by Fred and George. One of them, Harry didn't know which, slung his arm around him in a brotherly gesture.
"Hullo, Harry! You got on Parkinson's bad side, I see." He sniggered lightly.
"She's the best at the rumour game." The other smiled broadly. "Well, except for us of course. We can beat her any time. Want us to make some work of it?"
"Yeah, any friend of Ronnie is our friend too."
Harry smiled awkwardly and thanked them, but told them it wasn't necessary. Hermione was looking most disapprovingly at the twins, but they were oblivious.
"Are you sure?" The one who's arm was around Harry's shoulders said. It might've been Fred. "We've been sitting on an interesting fact about Parkinson for a while. We were waiting for the right moment, so as to maximise the impact momentum, but we're willing to use it prematurely."
"If we embellish it a little, I'm sure we'll hardly lose any effect."
The nodded knowingly at each other while Rom rolled his eyes and Hermione's hair seemed to stand as upright as Hedwig's plumage.
"Don't you have any scrupules? You're lowering yourselves to her level!" She squeaked.
Fred let go of Harry and stood straight and serious beside George, both wearing an expression of deep hurt and disappointment.
"Hermione! I'm shocked!"
"How dare you suppose that Parkinson's level is lower than ours!"
"I'm outraged! Our level is the lowest in the country." They boasted shamelessly.
At this Hermione bit her lip and walked away. It was too much for her. It tore a smile off Harry's lips though, and he even rediscovered enough appetite to eat one of his biscuits.
The twins had respected Harry's wishes. They had leaked nothing about Pansy Parkinson, for the next day Harry was still the centre of attention. He was called for a talk with his teacher; a mostly useless fifteen minutes where she wondered aimlessly about his well-being, but could not do much else. When at the end she proposed to call his aunt and uncle and invite them for a talk at school however, Harry quickly assured her he was doing very well and that such a measure would only attract more attention. The best way was to simply let everyone get bored, he argued, and not react in any way so as to quicken the process.
In Snape's class everyone was too scared to dare say anything about the ho topic 'Harry Potter', and Harry was able to sit through the lessons relatively undisturbed. He sat as far back as possible and avoided any form of contact with Draco.
He went to see Hedwig as much as he could and returned home quite late and frozen through by the wind and ice. Each time he found the house either empty, or with Vernon in front of the television. He was sent off to the store one day with money with the instruction to 'take care of breakfast and dinner'. And so Harry learned, for the first time, how to shop for food. He brought home bacon, eggs and bread, which he assumed would be good enough for breakfast, but was clueless about what to do for dinner.
In the end, he decided to ask an employee of the grocery store for help, a middle-aged man who regarded him suspiciously. He showed him the shelf with the ready-made meals. The raven was satisfied with that and took as much as he could buy with the money and carried all of it home with some effort.
Uncle Vernon wasn't all too happy with the dinner for that evening. (Especially since he had to put it in the oven himself. Harry had escaped to his room.) But Harry managed not to burn the bacon the next morning, and that made up for it. Almost.
It was a Friday at the beginning of March, and Harry had started worrying about the emptiness of the fridge, when he came home from the literature class and found, not a grumpy Vernon watching the telly, but a grumpy Dudley. There was no difference in their proportions, but there was in their size and hair coverage. Harry immediately saw that the head sticking above the sofa was not bald.
He stood still in the hallway and strained his ears. There were voices coming from the kitchen.
Aunt Petunia was home.
Uum, would it be unreasonable of me to ask for many many reviews?
