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Sorry it took a bit longer; life happens. I've got a lot to catch up at school and everything else. Hopefully you'll like this one!
Words count: 4642
DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot.
Thank you for LadyLiterary for betaing this chapter!
Eyes widened, she saw the figure's body crashed to her front window with a loud thud, before getting being thrown off by the force, flipping twice in the air, and landing harshly on the road approximately eleven meters ahead of her.
The engine finally stopped, after roaring in protest. The rain was coming down harder.
"Oh my God."
Chapter 2 – Your Dreams
The road, wet with puddles everywhere, was deathly quiet. The only thing that could be heard was a row of soft breathing and stable-sounded footsteps. The boy, his raven hair waving madly because of the wind, was alone. It was fortunate that he expected the wind to blow rather heavily, so he covered his body with black jacket, his scarf covering the lower half of his face. His forehead however, was visible, showing the famous lightning scar that never hurt anymore.
He had walked from the beginning of the road, sluggishly, letting his mind wander in nostalgia as he stared at the row of houses. Not exactly happy memories, yes, but it was the place he had grown up in. To quote his mentor, this was the place he had called home for so many years. He remembered every detail of the sight as if it was only yesterday. The last time he saw this house, he never thought he would see it again. Primarily because he merely thought that there would be no reason to come back. And moreover he didn't dare to hope to live long enough to visit.
A soft knock and a few seconds were all it took to see the face of the woman he had blood ties with, after two years apart. Petunia Dursley dressed properly tonight, as if she was going to meet Vernon Dursley's boss and spend the evening flattering them to boost her husband's career; not meeting the boy she had treated as a housemaid for so long. She had a polite expression on her face as she let him in, but she wasn't smiling. Inside, Harry found Dudley Dursley sitting in front of a fireplace—as unbelievable as it might seem—reading what seemed like a Law Enforcement book. His eyes gazed up to meet Harry's, before smiling a sheepish smile which Harry returned easily.
Harry considered pretending to be clueless and ask where Vernon Dursley was, but in the end, decided not to. He was sure that Petunia wouldn't appreciate it. Petunia had, after all, caught a glimpse of Harry at Vernon's funeral, even if Harry wasn't invited.
The three of them sat in a long silence for a while. Harry stared at the fire dancing in front of him; the sound of burning woods helped him to relax.
"How have you been, Harry?"
Harry should stop being so surprised when Dursley talked to him civilly, but old habits die hard. "It's been a blast, Dudley. How about you?"
"Quite good," Dudley smiled. "You removed your glasses? Decided to use lenses?"
"Actually, no," Harry chuckled. "I had a magical eye-therapy with the Head Healer for a few months. I figured it would be easier to do the job as an Auror without my eyesight becoming a nuisance."
"Cool," was Dudley's comment. "Funny, it doesn't bother me as it should."
Harry laughed a bit too loud at that.
"It's a bit hard since Dad is gone, but we'll make it through. I'm really glad we managed to get this house back. Too many memories..."
Harry snorted. "Too many memories indeed."
At that comment, Dudley casted a nervous glance at Harry. "Yeah—about that. You see, I realize that I haven't properly apologized—"
"It's alright."
Dudley's head snapped up in surprise. "What?"
"I said it's alright, Big D. It's in the past. Even though you were really, really too much of a git," Dudley winced at this. "I can see you've changed. Both of us had grown up, and I know that I would not be who I am now if you'd treated me any differently in the past. Not that I encourage bullying, though."
Harry felt glad that Dudley had the decency to look ashamed and remorseful. Dudley whispered a small thanks, which Harry returned with a smile.
The comfortable silence that fell upon them was broken with Dudley's chuckle. "Dad probably won't like it, but I've decided to have a serious career in Law Enforcements."
"I figured," Harry smirked good-naturedly as he glanced at the volume in Dudley's big hands. "I hope you make it. I was a Head Auror—sort of a Chief Police, I guess—for two years. Just quit, though."
"Really?" Dudley seemed genuinely curious. "May I ask why?"
"Tired of it. Just need a break, I guess."
Dudley nodded in understanding, and their little chat turned quite amusing as they talked about various topics, acting like a pair of long lost friends instead of two nemesis-turned-friendly-cousins. Harry noticed Petunia and realized she probably felt a little bit left out, but honestly, Harry wasn't sure if she really wanted to be in the conversation. She stayed quiet, glancing ever so often between Harry and Dudley. She once left her seat to serve them three cups of tea, but then sat back, still as a statue again.
It was at 10 p.m. that Dudley stood. "Sorry, Harry. I have a job interview to attend tomorrow. It was great to meet you again. And I mean it."
"I enjoy it too. And I mean it as well."
As Dudley walked out of sight, Harry stood awkwardly. Petunia had her eyes fixed on the fireplace, not even acknowledging Harry's presence. She didn't seem like she wanted to talk to him at all, which made him wonder that perhaps Dudley was the one who initiated their meeting, even if—God knows why—she was the one who contacted him.
"Perhaps I should leave—"
"Wait."
Harry stopped talking at that moment, staring at Petunia who was now standing as well. Her eyes stared at him, her face fixed with an unreadable expression. "I have something to give you."
"Okay." He replied, tense.
After a relatively long wait, Petunia came back with a timeworn container wrapped in blood red paper and tied with a small green ribbon. Harry stared at the gift he was handed to for a second, before awkwardly saying, "Uh, Christmas is still a few months away."
"It's not from me. Just open it."
So Harry did. He opened the box really carefully—it looked so fragile, so old. Inside were two scrolls. One was a parchment; the other was a letter with elegant writing on it.
Dear Tuney,
Merry Christmas! How have you been? I'm sorry that I never visit any more, but the evil wizard I told you about is rising. I'm sorry. I really want to visit you, but James reckons it won't be safe.
Harry is almost 5 months right now. You know what his first word is? It's 'maa'! I couldn't describe how happy I felt—you should have seen James' face. He's trying to get me back by bribing Harry with new toys! Poor Harry has been bugged with James and Sirius everyday—I sometimes worry he doesn't get enough of rest because of it, but he can't stop laughing once they do that. I love his laugh, Tuney. I think I now understand the way you look at Dudley when he was born. How is little Dudley? I really want the two of them to meet, but will Vernon accept? It is not that I consider him cruel, but you know how he is with our 'abnormality'.
Things get dark so fast. James is still considering the Fidelius charm; a secrecy charm. If we really are going to use it, then things will get so complicated that it will be too dangerous to contact you. That is why I am including another scroll in this box. It is my wishes, Tuney. I've made my own bucket list—well, James put his here and there—you would not believe how many things I want to do. The probability of my list actually coming true is next to zero now. Before everything gets messier, I want someone to know what I have always wanted—my dreams.
Would you mind sending your own bucket list? Who knows, maybe we could compete with one another. I know a bucket list doesn't work that way, but who cares, right?
Send my love to little Dudley!
Love,
Lilly
Harry didn't know when the tears started to fall down his cheeks, but he found himself crying as he read the letter in his hands. It was his mother, writing to her sister, probably knowing that it would be the last letter she'd ever write for her sister.
"Take it."
Harry's eyes never left the writing before him. He wanted to, but how could he? "I—I can't. It's yours. She sent that for you."
"I know my limits, Harry," She said. "You can make it come true."
Harry didn't care how messed up he probably looked like right now. He didn't bother to wipe the tears on his face. He whispered a hoarse "Thank you", loud enough for Petunia to hear. The letter was so beautiful. He could imagine his mother writing this with a small smile on her face, his father trying to peek and getting a smack on the head instead, and even Sirius and Remus laughing at them.
He frowned in confusion once he realized that the letter was almost wet—humid, so fragile that he could tear it with a simple wave. He was sure he didn't wet the paper.
Unconsciously, his eyes glanced up right to his aunt's teary eyes.
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "You—"
"You didn't just lose a mother that night, you know." Her voice sounded so loud in the silent room. "I lost a sister."
Upon hearing those words, Harry tackled his aunt in a tight hug. He didn't know what had gotten into him, nor did he care. He could feel his aunt's body shaking silently, before her own sob became audible. Both were then lost in grief and, for the very first time, feeling comfort in each other's support.
Days had passed since his meeting with the Dursley's. It was inevitable that said days were spent with telling his friends about his brand new plan. Their reactions varied from McGonagall's, "You deserve a break, Mr. Potter," to Draco Malfoy's "Why the ruddy hell are you telling me this, Potter?"
The worst part was telling his best friends. It was funny how best friends are supposed to be the ones you can tell everything to. Yet Harry found himself nervous facing Hermione and Ron, their look of disbelief making the situation even worse. His nervousness wasn't for nothing, though. After hours of arguing, Hermione agreed whole-heartedly to support Harry's decision and try to cheer him up with "Don't worry about Ron. He'll come around." which truthfully, didn't help much.
With his best mate reacting negatively, Harry thought it was normal to feel this anxious as he stood alone in front of the last Weasley's new apartment—a wonder considering how many reporters usually tried to meet with Holyhead Harpies' famous chaser. It was a surprise to Harry, really, when she decided to seriously go for the team. Even more surprising was when she had actually succeeded, bringing her team to a new light in the world of Quidditch.
Mentally punching himself to man up, Harry took a deep breath before knocking the door. "Ginny?"
The sound of treadmill inside immediately stopped. Harry held his breath as he waited for her response, but seconds passed and no reply came out. "Ginny, I know you're in there."
Another silence fell that Harry started to think she wouldn't answer. However the door opened with a soft click, which was enough for Harry to take that as an invitation.
Her flat remotely resembled her old room. It was of course, filled with Quidditch posters, but the room lacked the simplicity of it. Anyone could know from the first glance that this was not the same innocent girl's room anymore. His gaze turned to see Ginevra Weasley who was now sitting at a small bar, casually drinking a cup of pumpkin juice.
Harry didn't expect to see her completely the same with the way she used to be, but he couldn't say he wasn't surprised. Ginny's flaming red hair was wavier than before, and it was now down to her shoulder. Her skin was a bit darker and matched her features nicely. Her body also got fitter, obviously because she had a lot of catching-up to do as a new member on the team. Her brown eyes, even when not boring into his, looked more mature—typical war-hardened eyes.
Harry smiled. "How are you, Ginny?"
"What are you doing here?"
That stung. But Harry supposed he deserved it.
"What? Can't I visit?" Harry grinned, unabashed. "Nice room you got here."
Ginny shook her head. "What are you up to, Harry?"
"I just want to know how you're doing. That's all, a simple question."
"Well, you should've asked that simple question by, I don't know, two years ago?" She retorted angrily. When Harry made didn't respond, she took a deep breath. "It's been two years. I've heard the story, Harry. Yes, you didn't even tell me yourself. Surprising, isn't it?" Her laugh didn't have the joy Harry had been used to. "You shut out everybody. Even Hermione and Ron had a hard time trying to break in. I understand you're the Savior and all, but to completely shut everyone who cares about you—"
"You don't," Harry cut her bluntly. "You don't understand."
"Which part of it don't I understand?" Ginny erupted, her face turning red. "I don't have to actually live your life to understand what you went through. I understand that you needed time. I WAITED FOR YOU, YOU GIT. I waited every bloody day, giving you the time you needed, waited until the time you feel like you were ready. And then you finally came out. What was the first thing you did, Harry? You joined the freaking Aurors—"
"Ginny, I'm sorry," Harry rushed forward to soothe her—he never liked her tears. Merlin, he hated it. "I'm sorry, Gin. I'm—"
"Don't you 'Gin' me!" Ginny snatched her hand away from Harry's.
"And I still waited for you, you know? I waited since you were the new Auror kid, until you got promoted to the Head bloody Auror, and I couldn't even congratulate you—how could I? You disappeared every time I approached you. It took you two years to come to me? Why? What's gotten to your head, Harry? I couldn't understand your obsession with your work—not that I didn't like it—how, I can't—"
"I quit the job."
Ginny stopped talking. "What?"
"I quit being Auror," Harry elaborated. "I think I need a break."
Ginny stayed silent for a while, her brown eyes staring right into the emerald before her. "Why? You're a great Auror. Bloody hell, you're the Savior, Harry. A warrior. You've got everything it takes to wipe the remaining Death Eaters to its very core."
"I need a break, Gin," Harry told her with a weary smile. "I want my life back."
Yeah, it was beyond him how girls could change their minds so fast. Harry felt happiness blooming in his chest as Ginny's lips quirked up softly at him, her head getting closer. Her scent was overpowering his senses, causing his body to go limp, and all that left to do was to lean in as well, to make up for all the loneliness he had put on himself for the past two years—
Something clicked in his head that made him stopped midway. "Wait."
Ginny let out a frustrated chuckle. "I can't wait anymore, you git—"
"I have something to tell you."
This caught her interest. Harry held her hands, his forehead touching hers, as he continued, "Listen. The other day, the Dursley's invited me 'round to their house and we actually had a civil chat. When I stood to go home, Petunia gave me this letter—my mum's letter. It was touching, yeah, but what really got me was my parent's bucket list. I looked at it—it was a lot of things, all around the world. Do you know what's on the top? Find Atlantis. It was mad—absolutely barmy. And I," Harry took a deep breath. "I want to make it come true."
Ginny stared at him in confusion.
"I want to make it come true, Gin. I want to go all around the world—it's their legacy. Hell, I'm going to be twenty in a few months. I'm absolutely free, free from a job, free from any other pressure out there. There is absolutely nothing stopping me. Not a round of Death Eaters and nothing close to a set of rules. I think I'm going to go visit Japan's wizarding community first. No, it'll be better if I go to Hawaii first—it's my dad's wish, you know? Yeah, completely expected. But Mum wanted to fly around Washington without being seen—that one's weird, I figured. Maybe it has something to do with her fear of heights. Merlin, it's their dreams. I can do it. I will make it come true. It's going to be a blast—wait, Ginny? Why are you—"
"But I can't leave the Holyhead Harpies."
Harry's eyebrows furrowed, but his grin barely faltered. "Uh, what? What's all that got something to do with this?"
Ginny had an odd look on her face. "You're going alone?"
"Why, of course. And there's this insane thing my dad always wanted to do—"
Ginny let out a loud breath, her brown eyes staring at him as if he'd grown another head. Harry stopped talking already, realizing that something was not right. "Uh, Gin?"
"How bloody stupid," Her lips quirked up in a smile, but she didn't sound like she was happy at all. Tears started to fall again from her eyes. "I thought—I thought this day was going to be perfect."
"Gin, what—"
"Out, Potter."
Harry's heart almost stopped at the furious edge in her voice. Her eyes, so judging, stared at him as tears streamed down her face. "Merlin, Ginny. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. "
"But you always do," She whispered. "What's your plan, Boy Who Lived? Have me waiting here until you feel like it's okay to come back? I'm not the Girl Who Waited. I've done my waiting. If you're going to leave me again, then leave already."
"Gin, please—"
"Get out," She spat, holding the front of his shirt. Harry's mind could barely process what was happening as she pulled him up, not even bothering to use magic, and pushed him all the way to the front door, before slamming the door right in his face.
"No. Absolutely not, Harry."
"But, 'mione—"
"Don't 'mione' me on this one," Hermione sent him a death glare, snatching the bottle out of his hand. "No Firewhiskey before riding a broom."
Harry himself didn't know for sure why he was craving a Firewhiskey right now. The two of them, were, after all, sitting alone in front of Grimmauld Place Number 12, preparing for Harry's departure. Hermione was busy glaring at him while checking his small, Undetectable Extension charmed backpack. Her nagging sounded so loud in the silent night, yet Harry found a way to completely block it off anyway. Harry hollowly stared at the view of the town, his mind still a disheveled mess. It felt really different without Ron beside him, cracking a few jokes or simply being his silly self. Or Ginny smiling along side him, holding his hand encouragingly. Harry shook his head to brush the pain off his chest as his gaze left the empty spaces between his fingers.
"Girls," He finally muttered, burying his face in his hands. "How the bloody hell can you understand them?"
"I resent that," Hermione intensified her glare, completely oblivious to the fact that Harry didn't hear a single word she had said earlier. "From what Ginny told me, you're just being plain stupid."
"It slipped, okay?" Harry growled. He really, really needed a Firewhiskey right now. "I was so excited about the whole thing—"
"I know," Hermione's eyes softened as she embraced him tightly. "You're a stupid git. But you make up for it with a big heart," she skillfully ignored his snort. "I can't promise you she'll come around like Ron will, Harry. But I know how much she loves you. I know that you're starting to feel like you don't want to go, but go. Don't let her or Ron stop your dreams—stop you from fulfilling their dreams. Because you are right, it's their legacy. And she needs her time too. For now, it's your turn to wait."
"What if she gives up on me?" Harry croaked out. Firewhiskey. Please. "What if she find someone else? She doesn't even talk to me anymore. It's been weeks since I last saw her."
Hermione stared at him, her expression unforgiving. "It's no one's fault but your own. You tried approaching her again, but she's not ready to take it, Harry. Believe it or not, the way you treated Ginny for the past two years makes Ron seem like a gentleman."
If it was any other situation, Harry would've burst out laughing. "Yes, I was wrong, but she knows that I'm sorry. So how the bloody hell do I get out of this one?"
"Wait. That's all you have left now. You can try to ocassionally send letters to her, though I doubt she'll reply. As I said, it is now your turn to wait. She holds the cards now."
Harry's shoulder slumped in defeat. He didn't like what he heard from Hermione—the fact that Ginny could turn to another man in any second. Even worse was if a rival showed up, he wouldn't even be around to defend his woman and win her back. "Then I'll wait," Harry promised, determination shining in his eyes. "I will."
Hermione smiled. "Now, now, you got everything you need. Don't mess up with Essence of Dittany—it's specifically hard to get. I've also stuffed a bezoar here. And a few books, History of Magic, Hogwarts: A History, Charms for Charmers, Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, A Guide For Wizarding World Travel—"
"Hermione, I think I get it."
She stared at him for awhile, before sighing. "Yeah, I think I'm just nervous. Be safe, okay? Here's my phone number."
Harry looked at her incredulously. "A phone number? Seriously?"
"Well, Seamus and I are actually developing a phone that works with magic, not electricity. I've been working on it for the past year but it's still a prototype, it was really hard to equalize the wave of magic with the radio—"
Hermione was the brightest witch of her age; that much everyone knew; and Seamus was known for his proclivity for pyrotechnics. But for both of them to actually apply their skills to create a brand new, magic-powered mobile phone? Harry couldn't even stop his jaw from dropping, his eyes wide with amazement.
Hermione noticed Harry's expression and was bewildered. "What? Is there something on—"
"You're briliant, you know that?" Harry shook his head as he took the phone from her.
"Thanks. Now, it's still unstable, so expect a few errors here and there. If it doesn't work, use owls, fireplace, Patronus, anything, really. You know I'm always here," Hermione's arm suddenly wrapped around him in a tight hug, resting her head on his shoulder.
Harry smiled softly as he felt something wetting his shirt. "You're not crying, aren't you?"
"Why shouldn't I?" Hermione was openly crying now, but she wasn't crying a river the way Ginny did. She still didn't let go of him, but Harry didn't protest. "No one knows when you'll come back. You have to go back, in case Ron—in case Ron and I—"
Harry didn't need to look at Hermione's face to know she's blushing. He laughed, ignoring her stuttered protest. "Believe me, I know that prat. He's all confused right now, trying to figure out the right way to propose you. And heck, of course I'll come back when you get married. What kind of best friend do you think I am?"
"D-don't make it sound like it's a certain thing!" Hermione gushed. "You've got to promise me, okay? You're the closest thing I have for a brother, Harry. Please, just take care of yourself. I don't want to hear you creating a havoc—"
Harry rolled his eyes, skillfully ignoring the unpleasant feeling building up in his chest. "What are you, my mother?" Before Hermione could hit him, he continued. "I can't promise you that I'm going to be okay. I mean, who knows? There are a lot of things out there."
"Then at least promise me you'll come back home."
"I don't make promises I can't keep, 'mione," Harry answered quietly. "But I give you my word that I'll do anything I can to come back. I won't ever forget any of you. And I will always remember that I've got a home."
Hermione didn't say another word. Harry could tell that it wasn't the answer she wanted to hear.
The night was calm, and Harry found himself staring at it with excitement he never tasted before. His grip on his Firebolt tightened, conjuring the similar warmth he felt when he connected with his wand. It definitely wasn't hard to hop onto it, ready to conquer anything that could possibly be in his way.
Harry's eyes connected with Hermione for the last time, flashing a grin, which turned into a soft smile as he watched her laughing. Then, without turning back to gaze at the place he had called home, he set off, accepting the wind that blow against him, his grin widened in excitement. That night, Harry Potter's laugh could be heard from all over town.
Washington was quite unlucky that night. It was because there was now a certain raven-haired wizard rushing there with enormous speed, his face twisted in a confident smirk, confronting the adrenaline he felt rushing inside his body. His emerald eyes were shieleded with a pair of green goggles, protecting them from the attacking wind. It was barmy, yes, but at that moment Harry found himself too exuberant to care. Even the heavy rain at his current location was no match for him that night.
Flying had always felt absolutely fantastic to him, but never to this extent. The effect of it amplified even more with Ogden's Old Firewhiskey that he had been drinking since his arrival at United States of America, blatantly ignoring Hermione's stern warning. Who cares? What she doesn't know won't hurt her. He felt like he was floating in the air, and all complicated problems started to diffuse into bubbles, evaporating to the back of his head, momentarily forgotten.
"WOOOOHOOOOOO!"
The booming shout of his was followed by uncharacteristic giggles, his eyes dancing in mad glee as he zoomed through the cloud, before his hand pushed down his broom roughly, sending him dashing straight to the ground. He loved how the adrenaline rush as his eyes took in the sight of the ground getting nearer and nearer every second.
His laughter erupted again as he managed to safely pulled his Firebolt at the last minute, speeding up across the ground.
"FREEDOM!"
A pair of emerald eyes shone brightly as Harry, for the first time, actually saw the world. He was now free, with nothing pinning him down, no responsibility to take care of, no arch-nemesis around to antagonize him. All that was left for him to conquer was the world, his very own grand adventure.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER IS NOW FR—"
The last thing Harry Potter could comprehend was darkness that suddenly swallowed him.
Thank you for reading! Please tell me what you think. It can be simple 'like it' or 'hate it', or constructive criticism, or anything really. Reviews help Authors improve their writing skills, which is generally equal to better story quality.
By the way, I made the cover myself! What do you think? Spent hours making that :D
