It had taken a great deal of persuasion and Harry's perfect behaviour for his Uncle Vernon to agree to let him go to Hermione's for an extended birthday weekend. He had initially been reluctant to say yes, probably because he hated it whenever the strange boy they'd been lumped with eleven years ago got any joy. Petunia had fretted about what Dumbledore had told them, fearful that Harry's absence, no matter for how long, would put them in jeopardy. There had been no consideration for Harry's safety in her tearful wails, only an obsession of keeping her true family away from danger. Harry didn't mind that. As much as he didn't like them, there was no part of him that wanted the Dursleys to suffer because they knew him.
His concerns had been partially put to bed upon the arrival of a short note from the headmaster. Harry had been sitting in his room, wondering what to pack if he was allowed to go, when an eruption of flame had suddenly appeared in a blinding blaze, too close to his head for comfort. He had scampered to the corner of his room, which frankly didn't put too much space between him and the unexpected intrusion, and scrambled around for his wand. He wasn't allowed to do magic away from Hogwarts but surely the Ministry would understand if it was in self defence. In the few seconds of panic that consumed him, he fully believed that Voldemort had returned to finally finish the job, somehow finding his location. There would be no one to save him this time. No Dumbledore to come to the rescue at the last second. None of his friends to stand by his side. But then Harry had watched as the fireball had quickly dissipated, turning into one, long red feather that drifted down to the floor aimlessly, a piece of parchment attached to it. It seemed that he had somewhat overreacted and it also appeared that he would be in trouble for doing that, with the way his uncle was shouting at him from downstairs for the commotion he had stirred.
It turned out that the wacky old man had his own way of delivering messages that circumvented the traditional owl postal service. Harry had wondered then why he hadn't used these means to answer the questions he'd sent him, only to quickly remember that his letters hadn't reached their intended targets. That was still a mystery that needed solving but he had been too overjoyed to think about that as he read the short missive. Dumbledore's words had been highly hesitant, as if the last thing he wanted was for Harry to leave the house at all, but he claimed that his arm had been twisted. There was a short passing comment about him being reminded of what was best for Harry, but it was too cryptic to properly understand - a problem most people had when they had a conversation with the headmaster. The firm caveat of the leniency was that it was just a short stay away and that Harry would have to return well before the Summer ended but Harry could manage that. His friends had come through for him, as they had said they would. He couldn't wait to thank them for that. In person !
As soon as he had read the letter (and reread it for good measure, just to make sure that it was actually real), Harry raced down the stairs to show the Dursleys. Petunia screeched at him for running through the house; Harry was too focused on delivering the letter to truly care. It was a tense few seconds as he waited for his Uncle Vernon to scan the document. He looked especially displeased at the material, the thick parchment so different to the normal paper that he believed everyone should use. Even the cursive writing of Dumbledore was almost too much for him, a reminder of that strange but terrifying man that dared to interfere with his life and order him about. The only response Harry got was a noncommittal grunt as the note was passed over to Petunia. She didn't look as unimpressed as her husband whilst she gazed over the words, a hand placed on her chest when she got to the part that told her that her family would remain protected. It was from that point that Harry had known that he had her on his side - an uneasy alliance if there ever was one.
But their agreement to his little holiday still rested on Harry passing a series of questions, as if he were being interrogated by the police. They wanted to know about who he was staying with, who this Hermione was. They remarked on several occasions that it was a peculiar name, making it sound like it marred her character. Harry was forced to bite his lip whenever those comments came up, not wanting to see his friend get insulted. The Dursleys wanted to know about her family and how they would pick him up (because Uncle Vernon wasn't going to "bloody well do it" according to one of his brief tirades). Petunia was worried that the neighbours would know something weird was happening if wizards turned up on their driveway. What did they even drive? Did they drive? Or did they all use broomsticks like her sister had mentioned that one time?
Harry was quite relieved to hear their superficial concerns because he knew that none of them mattered. He explained that Hermione was a friend he had met on his first day at school (he didn't dare mention Hogwarts by name, knowing what sort of reaction that would get) and that she was from the normal world. He'd almost used the term Muggle before realising that that would just cause more problems than necessary. He told them that, although she had abilities like him (there had been a ban put in place on saying the magic word), her parents were just like them. Dentists, in fact. Vernon's pudgy face had lit up at that, as Harry had expected. It was no accident that he had brought up their respectable position in society. The Dursleys were suckers for that sort of class. Harry felt a bit icky talking about their money - Hermione had only briefly talked about it, since it was a topic she'd never been interested in - but, again, it was another tool that served to convince them. The implication was that a family like that could rub off on Harry and change him into a better, more well-behaved boy in their eyes. Frankly, he didn't care what their motivations were, as long as they agreed.
Harry needed them to say yes. It had only been a couple of weeks since he had last seen his friends and yet it still felt as if he were slowly drifting away from them. Hearing Matthew's voice that had been a stark reminder of how desperately he now depended on them, which was a scary thought in of itself. He wanted to be around them, he wanted to know more about them, and he wanted them to understand him even better than they already did. These were emotions that he had never fully experienced before and, now the floodgates had been opened, there was no chance of turning back. Being with the Dursleys had been fine, which was better than he could have imagined, but it still felt as if a dam had been erected, hindering his growth and potential. With each day that passed, he felt weaker and less hopeful, the joy of the magical world taken away from him. Reading the pages of his subject books was a poor imitation of those real world experiences. He truly believed that seeing his friends would make him come alive once more.
Dudley had been listening intently to their conversation as he sat in front of the television. The fact that he had muted one of his favourite shows, an absurd animated cartoon that Petunia believed would rot his mind (there was no hope of persuading him to stop watching it however - no wanted to be involved in the screaming match that ensued), was strange enough. He never allowed anything to interrupt his viewing habits. But his ears had been pricked by the potential reality of Harry getting something that he wanted. Losing his second room had been one thing, a grave insult that suggested that his parents were slowly starting to mellow out in their rage towards his weird cousin. He wasn't going to let this slide however without at least trying to throw a spanner into the works. He got up from the sofa, an act that took a great deal of effort, and waddled over to the table.
"Harry's got a girlfriend! Harry's got a girlfriend!" he chanted gleefully, even louder when he saw the shocked expression on Harry's face.
"No she is not!" he strongly defended, already worried by the looks the two adults were wearing.
In truth, he had never thought of Hermione in that way. He was far too young, although he'd never had a parental figure telling him what the ideal age was to start dating . Even the word made him shiver, the natural reaction of all boys his age. Perhaps except Matthew, but he seemed different to everyone else. Hermione was, obviously, a girl. And he had spent a great deal of time with her, probably more so than typical kids of the opposite gender did. He definitely enjoyed her company. She could be haughty and stubborn, never wanting to be challenged on her beliefs, that much was true. But she had a hitten wit that no one cared to uncover besides him and Matthew. Harry thought her intelligence was something to marvel at, not to ridicule. She was so caring too, always wanting to do what was best for her two friends, no matter if it went against her better judgement (which it normally did). Could he see that blossoming into something more than friendship? It was something that he wasn't ready to think about, his young mind unable to comprehend the complexities. And this wasn't taking into account Hermione being a part of the equation - surely she had better options than a boy like him. Then again, kids didn't tend to have options so this whole conversation was pointless, which was why Harry was so annoyed that Dudley had brought it up in the first place.
"She better not be!" Vernon grumbled, eyeing Harry suspiciously. "I'm not sending you to some girl's house where you can do... things ...with her! You'd bring shame onto this family! Perhaps we best reconsider this decision…"
"No, you can't!" Harry blurted out, not really thinking.
"Are you telling me what to do, boy?" His uncle looked as if he wanted Harry to be challenging him.
"No, sir. It's just that...I'm far too young to be having a girlfriend...or any thoughts like that. I promise, she is just a friend. I don't think her parents would let me go if they had any of the same doubts. And, like you said, they're very respectable people."
Vernon just hummed, thinking it over. It was Petunia who spoke up next, suddenly shaken by Dudley's unsupported claims. They'd always been so quick to believe anything the little toad said, even if it was completely ludicrous. It had always gotten Harry into trouble, normally for things he hadn't done. But he wasn't going to allow that pattern to continue, not now he'd been given a sense of hope.
"That boy who was on the phone…" she said curiously. "...why aren't you going to his house? Why does it have to be this girl? I think I'd find it a lot more agreeable if it were the other way around." She hadn't liked the sound of the boy anyway. He had shouted a great deal and had shown a severe lack of politeness. But it was still better than the prospect of her family becoming the subject of the neighbourhood gossip.
"I...don't think he has a house," Harry admitted. It was strange that he didn't know. Matthew had to live somewhere . It was just something that had never come up in conversation. And it was a difficult topic to broach, the possibility of sounding rude or insulting him very much overwhelming. It was just another part of Matthew's life that he had kept close to his chest, for some reason or another. His continued love for secrecy was not helping Harry at the moment. "He...doesn't have any family, you see? So I couldn't go to his because that...doesn't exist."
"That's the sort of people you're hanging around with?" Vernon asked distastefully. "I shouldn't be surprised. That's the sort of riff raff you'd expect to see with your kind . Maybe it's part of the deal. You have to have your parents killed to get the...powers. Horrid lot, you are."
"Matthew is a good person," Harry bit out through gritted teeth, close to losing his temper. He was just about ignoring the comment about his own parents and their fate, knowing that this was exactly what they wanted, to give them an excuse to say no. His friends had taught him that talking was usually the better option over anger (well, Hermione had. Matthew had shown on multiple occasions that the threat of violence could be a lot more fun. "Just because he doesn't have any family, that doesn't mean he's bad. I think you'd be proud of the friends I've made. They're intelligent and head strong, caring and compassionate. Traits you always said that I was missing." He opted to emit the fact that it was because of them that he'd never shown those qualities. "If you allow me to go, I'd only become a better person. And...you wouldn't have to deal with or feed me for nearly a week."
It was safe to say that that prospect clinched the deal for the Dursleys, much to the consternation of an irate Dudley. When Vernon verbally agreed - Harry hadn't wanted to believe it was true until it was said out loud - he had quickly assured Dudley that they would take him on a short break to wherever he wanted to make up for them being kind to Harry (he hadn't worded it exactly like that but the gist was the same). Perhaps the zoo, since Harry had ruined that trip last year. Dudley had shaken his head so violently that it threatened to fall off, so scared he was that he would end up back inside the snake enclosure. However, the promise had served to calm his cousin down, who chose to leave him alone because he, in his own words, wanted to make the most of not having him around. There was a gloating tone in his voice when he'd claimed that his parents were simply doing their best to get rid of him, but Harry couldn't have been happier if that were the case.
He spent the rest of the evening packing for his extended trip away. In reality, that had taken roughly five minutes, maybe less. He didn't own a lot of things and he wasn't taking everything with him. He had considered doing that, not knowing what Dudley would do to his few possessions whilst he wasn't there but he was choosing to believe that they'd forget about him enough to leave his personal property alone. Harry had stored a couple of books into an old gym bag he'd found still in his room, the ghost of Vernon and Petunia's attempts to get Dudley to exercise one year. For some reason, Harry had felt that he needed to bring some along, almost as if to tell Hermione that he was still following in her example. There was an element of wanting to impress her, which brought up questions that he didn't truly understand. Mainly, why would he want to impress his friend when he knew she liked him already?
It was that evening that he received a note, which was attached to a scruffy brown owl that didn't get on too well with Hedwig. The bird had attempted to drink out from her bowl, a serious crime in her eyes, but thankfully Harry had intervened before anything serious could happen. Provided with water and a few treats (he'd produced them when Hedwig wasn't looking), he sent the owl back on its way before his family realised that it had been there. The note, in itself, wasn't too spectacular. It was from Hermione, straight to the point like she normally was, instructing him when he would be picked up. He was surprised to see that she didn't ask him how he was or anything like that. This was the first time that they'd been able to correspond all Summer (Harry didn't know why this letter had made it to him but the others hadn't) but he supposed that there was little point in asking questions when he wasn't going to have time to respond, and when they would be seeing each other in person in less than a day.
Harry woke up spectacularly early, far earlier than any normal child usually wanted to, besides on Christmas morning. He made his bed and tidied his room slightly, to keep his Aunt Petunia happy. He made sure that everything he needed was packed in his bag and he spent a few moments trying to control his hair and make himself look respectable. He had realised quite frighteningly during the night that this was the first time that he would be meeting Hermione's parents. He had seen them from afar in the train station but he would now be speaking to them. And staying in their home. The pressure was on. To a young boy, the scariest thing on the planet was meeting a girl's parents, even when he knew they would be just as nice as her. Give him Voldemort any day of the week.
There'd been just enough time for him to cook breakfast, without having to be asked by his aunt. It was his way of saying thank you to them for being lenient for a change and it would leave them with a fairly positive memory of him that he hoped would mean they didn't change the locks whilst he was away. Then, for the rest of the morning, Harry sat on the bottom of the stairs and looked at the door, waiting. There was a moment when Dudley called him a freak for acting so strange and Vernon had given him a few frowns, but Harry barely noticed. He concentrated on the door, thinking of the freedom that it would bring when it next opened.
He became so entranced that he didn't really react when the anticipated knock came, though he was jolted back to reality by the sound of Vernon's heavy stomps. Harry just about beat him to the door, opening it up to be instantly attacked by a hurricane of bushy brown hair. It enveloped the entirety of his senses and his brain took a couple seconds to realise what was happening. When Hermione finally released him, he was able to smile sheepishly at the two figures standing a bit further down the driveway. Hermione's mum was smiling happily at the scene, although her father's face bore a concerned frown. Harry was scared at that. He would get beaten up for disrespecting his one and only daughter, or at least get a stern talking to. His body basically became rigid as he tried to keep a little bit of distance between him and his friend, which she was too excited to pick up on.
"Harry James Potter," Hermione said, trying to look and sound angry. "I gave you one basic instruction before I left you. To send letters!"
"I...couldn't!" he helplessly defended himself. "I thought Matthew would have told you what I told him."
"Some rubbish about our letters not reaching you and your letters not reaching us. How very convenient ."
"But...I...I'm telling the truth!" Was she actually annoyed with him?
She couldn't hold it for long, bursting out into laughter. "Oh, you should see your face! I'm sorry Harry but mum suggested that I should mess with you. She's a bad influence really."
"That's me, bad influence," her mum said, waving at Harry.
"Hello...Mrs Granger."
Mrs Granger waved a hand immediately. "Please, call me Katherine. Mrs Granger makes me sound so old! That's Peter, over there, standing out of the way. He's being fairly impolite but, between you and me, he's trying to do the old 'tough dad' schtick to scare you. I wouldn't fall for it. He's a big softie really." She waved over at the man in question with a sweet smile, as if to tell him she definitely wasn't saying anything bad about him.
"Thank you very much for offering to have me, Mrs...Katherine."
"Yes, thanks for taking the little scamp off our hands," Vernon said, which happened to be his unorthodox (some might call it rude) greeting. He was eyeing up the Granger's sleek black Mercedes hungrily. Harry knew what he was thinking; that someone who could afford a car like that was the sort of company he wanted to keep. And if he could finally get some use out of his nephew after all this time, then it was only what he was due. Harry had never seen him smile so much, although it was predatory and artificial. "You don't know what you're putting yourself through. He's a troublemaker, this one." He ruffled Harry's hair playfully, an action he had never once done before.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Katherine replied, who was looking particularly uncomfortable by Vernon's presence. "I've heard so much about him from my Hermione that I feel like I practically know him already." She didn't seem to notice how bright her daughter's cheeks had gone at the revelation, or had and just wanted to tease her. Harry knew that he would be bringing it up. "We were all too happy to have him, although I was worried that you might have wanted to see him on his birthday."
For a second, Vernon looked confused by the very prospect. He had never wanted to see the scrawny boy and the feeling was definitely mutual. But he put on a sad expression, nodding his head in thought. "It will be difficult. We've brought him into our family and home, you see, and we always like to celebrate that. But we wanted to put his feelings first."
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing frankly but he kept his mouth shut. He wasn't going to do anything that could jeopardise his leaving. For what it was worth, Katherine didn't seem to be buying the act. That was evident with how quickly she wrapped up the conversation, stating that they needed to beat the busy traffic (it was two o'clock in the afternoon on a Thursday, not the usual time for rush hour). Vernon had looked quite distressed that his opportunity to sell himself was closing, claiming that he would have liked to talk to Peter Granger too (he'd mentioned something about Grunnings, drill bits, and an exciting investment proposal for their dentistry practice) but that had just made Katherine speed up their hasty retreat.
Peter had given Harry a tight smile as they approached the car, with Harry greeting him in the same formality that he'd used with Hermione's mum. Peter had seemed impressed with that, despite giving him the same response that he really didn't need the title. Harry wasn't given the chance to look back on Privet Drive as it faded away in the distance (none of his family had waited to wave him off anyway) as Hermione was chewing his ear off, rattling off questions that she had evidently been saving over the Summer months. Her parents kept smiling at her fondly as she constantly spoke, barely giving Harry time to actually answer the questions. Katherine got involved too, taking any chance she could get to embarrass Hermione.
"Hermione, dear," she said at one point. "You wrote so much about Harry and this Matthew that, for a while, we thought they were the only two people at Hogwarts with you! But you never mentioned what a handsome young man Harry is." She winked at the now tomato-faced Boy Who Lived, who wanted his seat to swallow him whole.
"Mum," Hermione hissed angrily. It served to keep her quiet for a while as she tried to recover the ability to look Harry in the eye.
It was strange and quite enjoyable for Harry to see his friend in this new setting. In a short space of time, he was already seeing her in her natural habitat. And she seemed so natural and at ease, different to what she was like at school although still showing those familiar inquisitive characteristics. She was always so focused on work at Hogwarts, always wanting to impress her peers, that she sometimes forgot to act like a normal child. Coupled with Matthew's presence, who very rarely did anything by the book, Harry's only experience of being around 'normal' children had been when Dudley and his gang had targeted him on the playground at primary school. This extended weekend was a chance for him to get a taste of normal life, the world in between the brutality of the Dursleys and the whimsy of the magical community. And it was an opening for Harry to get Hermione to show another side of her character, a piece of her that he really wanted to know.
The car journey was a window into a different world entirely. The few times he had been a passenger with the Dursleys, the atmosphere was always tense, so thick that you could cut it. His uncle and aunt seemed to have the fear that he would break, damage or ruin the car just by being inside it. Harry supposed that freak magical accidents did happen with children, though their apprehension stemmed from bigotry rather than actual fact. In comparison, this car journey was so much better. They didn't always talk, sometimes listening to the radio in silence. When they had conversations, nothing too important was said, relaxed debates about random topics. But Harry could tell that they found them important, probably because her parents never got to see Hermione as much as they had done nowadays. He hadn't known that sort of love before, at least not a time he'd been able to appreciate it. And they attempted to bring Harry into the equation too, but he was often slightly too timid to properly get involved. That was something that he knew Hermione would want to fix and there was no way he was going to be able to stop her.
Arriving at Hermione's house, Harry stared out of the car window with his mouth agape as he took in the building. It wasn't massive by any stretch of the imagination but it was what he believed a family home should look like, the first one he had properly been able to appreciate. The house the Dursleys lived in was heavily sanitised, too clean to show that it was lived in. Just from outside appearances, he could tell that these walls held hundreds of memories. It was no wonder that Hermione had left Hogwarts over Christmas if she had this to return to. A part of Harry was slightly jealous that he'd been robbed of the same thing but he knew that he'd never voice that thought. He was just happy to be invited into this world, if only for a short while.
The first thing they did once inside, besides placing Hedwig down on the counter (Katherine had been gushing over her for the entire journey), was go up to what would be Harry's room. Hermione led the way whilst her parents organised tea. They'd suggested that they get a takeaway, a naughty treat especially since they were dentists. They'd asked Harry what he wanted and, after revealing that he'd never once had one, Hermione had decided that a greasy pizza was the ideal gateway into that luxurious culinary culture.
The spare room that he'd been given would be considered fairly bland by most people and yet, to Harry, it was incredible. It put his new room to shame and he'd thought that was pretty good. He plonked himself on the bed, with Hermione hesitating in the doorway, simply watching him take it all in. His smile was so genuine and joyful that it broke her young heart as she realised what he must have been through to warrant such a reaction. She vowed to make the Dursleys pay for the way they'd treated such a special young boy, but primarily promised that she would ensure this weekend was perfect for her guest. He deserved that at least.
"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said in a small voice. "I know you don't get a lot of time with your parents so to take up some of that by having me here...it means a lot. And I don't need to have this room! I'd happily sleep on the sofa if I'm taking up too much room."
"Don't be silly," she replied with a light laugh, though she was wounded to see how panicked he was. "You're our guest. And you're welcome. My parents wanted to see you almost as much as I did. But don't get too comfortable. This is only just the start."