Summary of the last chapter:
After a week at the Grangers', Neville is accompanied back to London to meet his Grandmother at St. Mungo's, and Harry and the Grangers meet Neville's parents.
A/N: Guys, I admit I'm a bit frustrated with this platform. There is next to no response the chapters I'm posting (thank you Amber and BlueWater for being my only faithful reviewers!) but posting them it is still work. At the moment, I'm thinking of posting two chapters every other week, but I'm making no promises. For Amber and BlueWater: If you should find no updates on ffn anymore, please come find me on A03, a community that seems to be thriving and makes writing and sharing so much more fun. I have the feeling that ffn is dead. :(
A Journey Like no Other
The last day at the Grangers' greeted them with perfect weather, so Hermione prepared a picnic and took Harry to a nearby park. They played a round of mini golf and had fun frolicking around at a huge playground. In the evening, they packed their trunks, had a great Italian dinner with the Grangers and went to bed after watching TV.
After a hearty breakfast (they'd be on the train for eight hours), the Grangers took them both to Golder's Green Station by car. From there they would all take the Tube to King's Cross, in order to avoid tailbacks and having to search for a parking space in the city. Unfortunately, when they got out of the car, they heard that there had been disruption on the Northern Line since the early morning hours, and the issue was ongoing. Not wanting to risk being late, they decided to drive all the way to central London by car after all, which turned out to be a bad decision. There were numerous traffic jams on their way, not aided by the fact that other commuters had chosen to go by car as well.
They finally arrived at the station with barely fifteen minutes to spare, and as they had feared, there was no parking space to be found.
"But we'll be late!" wailed Hermione, who hated being unpunctual even in situations when she didn't run the risk of missing a train. "Just let us out at the set down point and drive on! We can make it from there."
Seeing no alternative, her father did as suggested and got their trunks out of the back of the car, while Harry ran to get a trolley. They said a quick good-bye to the Grangers and headed towards the main entrance of the station as quickly as the trolley would allow. Ten minutes to spare. They should be okay.
A little breathless, they arrived at Platform 9 ¾. Quickly checking whether any Muggles were watching, Harry nodded to Hermione, and they rushed towards the barrier. Much to their surprise, it remained a solid wall of bricks - one they forcefully collided with.
Puzzled, Harry got back to his feet and rubbed his aching shoulder. "What's going on? Why can't we get through? We're still on time!"
"I have no idea. Let me try again." Carefully, Hermione pushed against the barrier. It didn't give. The divide between the platforms was suddenly just that: A wide brick wall with arches that supported the roof.
"Let's try from the other side", said Hermione, close to panicking again. The big clock said seven minutes to eleven. They quickly pushed the cart around the massive pillar to its back. The result was the same.
"Okay, maybe this entrance is blocked for some reason," said Harry, trying to stay calm. "Let's try the one further up." It looked exactly the same, so logic dictated that it should also lead to platform 9 ¾. But again, the barrier didn't give, not from either side. In a last, desperate attempt, Harry and Hermione tried the pillar that was the furthest away from the platform entrance, with the same result. The wall was just an ordinary wall. The clock struck eleven. They were both still standing on the Muggle side, with plenty of other travellers waiting for perfectly normal trains.
"Harry! The train is departing and we're not on it!" wailed Hermione. "Oh my God! What do we do?"
Harry had no idea. There was no one who could help – no matter where he looked, he saw no one who looked like a wizard. They were stranded in Muggle London, with no way to contact the Grangers or even get back to them by train.
"First of all, you need to calm down," Tom advised Harry, when his heart wouldn't stop beating frantically.
"That's what you always say in desperate situations! It's not that easy!"
"Panic has never been helpful in any situation, but keeping a cool head has. So take a deep breath and calm Hermione down as well, before she starts pulling her hair out or something."
Harry did as told. He briefly closed his eyes and counted his breaths, as he always did with his meditation exercises, and soon felt his irrational fear subside. It wasn't as if they were lost in the woods or something. "Hermione, don't worry - we'll get to Hogwarts somehow," he said, willing it to be true.
"How?" Hermione demanded to know, close to tears. "We can't get home by train, and we can't contact my parents as they are still on the road. We can't even travel to Scotland by Muggle train as we don't even know where Hogwarts is!"
The solution was so simple when it came to him. "We'll take the Knight Bus!" said Harry triumphantly.
"What?"
"I told you how I got to London with Hagrid, remember? All you have to do is stand on a street and hold out your wand. Hagrid did so right in front of the Leaky Cauldron - on the Muggle side! We can try it outside the station."
Hermione looked dubious, but, as she had pointed out herself, they didn't have great many options. They pushed their trolley all the way back to the entrance of the platform and through the station. They stopped at the taxi lane, and Harry (who really missed his wand right now) instructed Hermione to get out hers and hold it straight up in the air, just like Hagrid had told him to do.
It didn't even take a minute before the huge, purple triple-decker appeared out of nowhere, stopping right in front of them.
Hermione's chin dropped. "How come Muggles don't see it?" was the first thing she asked, when she had regained control over her features. Left and right of them, people got in and off taxis, which just drove around the highly unusual bus as if it standing here was a normal occurrence.
"Muggles? They don't ever notice anything, do they?" said a voice with a heavy Cockney accent. It was the conductor of the Knight Bus, whom Harry remembered vaguely from last year. He was not fully out of puberty yet, judging by his acne, but probably not younger than seventeen. The man shrugged, straightened his purple uniform and addressed them in a rehearsed and slightly bored sounding sing-song voice.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard! My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor on this perfect sunny day. Please step on board."
He bent down to pick up their trunks – for some reason not discernable to Harry, by hand, not by wand.
"Come on, Hermione."
They both stepped inside the bus and again, Harry could see his friend staring with wide eyes at the sight before her. The bus was definitely not Muggle on the inside. It had a wooden floor, panelled walls and armchairs as seats. There were curtains on the windows, which were drawn back to let the sunlight in, and old-fashioned lamps on the walls, probably the source of light for when the sun was gone. A small wooden staircase led to the upper levels. And yes – there was more than one!
Stan pushed their trunks into a corner and knocked at the window separating the driver cabin from the rest of the bus. "Take her away, Ernie!" he shouted and the bus lurched into motion. Harry and Hermione promptly fell and landed on their bottoms on the floor.
"You know, you can use the chairs, right? Price is the same. 11 Sickles, 15 if you want a bed and an extra three for a hot chocolate."
"A bed?" asked Hermione weakly, slowly scrambling back to her feet again.
"Yes, upstairs," Stanley said, pointing to the staircase. It seemed a life-threatening endeavour to try and climb those while the bus was moving, so Harry quickly said: "Just two chairs downstairs, please."
They both quickly took their seats before they fell again, as the bus was performing break-neck manoeuvres, braking and accelerating abruptly and in random intervals and taking impossible turns. Harry paid their fare and gave Stan their destination. "To Hogwarts, please."
Hermione already looked green around the nose.
"Are you sure you don't want the beds?" Stan asked with a glance at her.
"Why?" asked Hermione in alarm. "How long will we be travelling?"
Stan frowned at the question. "Well – when do you have to be there?"
"At the latest in time for the Welcome feast tonight," Hermione answered.
Stan shrugged. "There you have it. You'll definitely be there by then."
"What?" asked Harry in shock. "But that's eight hours from now! Last time I took the bus from London to Hogwarts, we were there in like an hour!"
"You probably had less time to spare back then?"
The bus came to a sudden stop, which made the chairs move forward about a foot. Miraculously, they didn't hit the walls.
"Aberdeen!" called Stan. "Time to get off, Mr. Fieldwake!"
An elderly wizard appeared from upstairs, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.
"Thanks, Stanley!" he said. "See you next week!"
"Aberdeen? We are in Aberdeen already? But that's in Scotland!" protested Hermione. "We should be in Hogwarts in a heartbeat if that's how fast the bus travels!"
Stanley gave her a puzzled look. "You haven't travelled with the Knight Bus before, have you?" he asked. "Next stop is Cornwall. There were plenty of people on the bus before you two boarded, you know?"
"You're going to Cornwall next? But that's across the entire country while we're already in Scotland!" Hermione argued. "It doesn't make any sense!"
"First in first out," said Stanley, shrugging his shoulders. "Unless someone's really in a hurry, then we'll get them to their destination first. It's the only thing that makes sense."
"You said the amount of time I have to spare determines how long the trip will last," argued Hermione. "And now you're saying someone who steps onto the bus last minute will only have a very short journey, while people who are planning ahead are being punished? That's so … unfair!"
"No, it's not," insisted Stanley, who didn't seem to get Hermione's point at all. Tom and Harry, who sided with Hermione on this, watched the argument with fascination, but decided to stay out of it.
"Then what if we get down at the next stop, spend a couple of hours in Cornwall and just call you again at dusk?" Hermione asked challengingly.
Stan rubbed his head. "Hm, I guess you could do that, but there's no guarantee then that you'll make it to Hogwarts in time. This is a magic bus, but it can't do miracles. You have to allow a reasonable time for travelling."
"Well, what is a reasonable amount? How much time to I need to plan with?"
"Merlin, you're difficult customers! I don't know how many people will wave us down in the future. The bus is already rather full, and it's first in, first out, unless there's an emergency. So if you keep sitting here, I can guarantee that you'll be there in time, most likely much earlier. If you get off the bus just to hang out at the beach for a couple of hours and then come back with next to no time left, you can hardly expect to be counted an emergency, can you? You'd have to wait until everyone on the bus has reached their destination, and maybe even some people who really have an emergency and get on after you."
Hermione stared at their conductor, struggling to make sense of the concept. Stanley, obviously fearing more arguments coming his way, quickly distanced himself from them and chose to chat with the driver instead.
That didn't seem a great idea to Harry and Tom, given that his driving was already pretty haphazard. Disrupting his concentration probably wouldn't help making driving in this tin box any more secure.
"I think I understand how this bus works," Hermione finally said, distracting Harry from the life-threatening danger they were in. "This is a bit like stepping into a doctor's waiting room. You'll be there for an undetermined while, and the only thing that gets you out faster is an emergency. Let's just pray that nobody is having any emergencies today so that we'll be there before my stomach rebels. Don't they have any sick bags around here?"
*'*'*'*'*'*
This trip was much more horrible than the first one Harry had taken with Hagrid, especially since it took altogether four hours. Harry was green in the face, his legs were wobbly and his stomach was very upset by the time they were told that they had reached their destination, and Hermione didn't look much better.
"But where are we?" Harry asked Stan, looking around, confused. They had stopped in front of a pub with the name 'The Three Broomsticks', which was sat in a row of many similar, quaint and very medieval looking houses. "This isn't Hogwarts."
"This is Hogsmeade. It's as close as we can get you. Magical protections around the school, you see."
And so Hermione and Harry found themselves in the small magical village they would only get to visit in their third year, with lots of time to spare before the Hogwarts Express with their fellow students would arrive.
"What do you think?" asked Hermione, after the Knight Bus had vanished with a loud bang. "Shall we explore a bit? It can't take very long to get to Hogwarts from here. I know that the third years walk here on their Hogsmeade weekends. And I could use something to eat and drink."
"Just give me a minute to get used to gravity again," replied Harry, sitting down on his trunk with his head between his hands. Given how much he loved broom-flying, it was weird that he suffered from motion-sickness so badly.
When Harry felt better, they each took one handle of Hermione's trunk between them, and Harry also took one of his own, and they moved down to the village. It was a bit awkward walking with both trunks, but his was floating easily, and between the two of them, they could handle Hermione's trunk, even though it was pretty heavy.
The village was definitely worth exploring. It had the most interesting shops: a huge sweet shop that had the most amazing kinds of sweets one could imagine – or rather, one could never have imagined, not with a Muggle mind. There was also a shop that sold joke items, a store for wizarding clothes and one for quills and stationery. And of course, a book store! They spent quite some time there after having stopped at Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop, which Hermione found charming and Harry and Tom disgusting. It was all frilly with lots of lace doilies and crochet curtains, with walls in baby pink. The tea was good though, as were the sandwiches, and they left it feeling much better.
By the time they exited the bookstore, it was late afternoon and they figured it was time to go back to Hogwarts. The sun was hidden behind clouds, and the sky looked a bit darker than the hour of the day demanded.
"Let's get going before it starts raining," suggested Hermione, and together, they sat out on the path which - as had been pointed out to them by the friendly owner of the bookstore - would take them to Hogwarts faster than following the road alongside the lake.
It wasn't fast at all. Now that they had to carry their luggage further than just the small distance between shops, they realized they had a logistical problem. Hermione's trunk was quite heavy, and they had to switch sides more and more often, so that the other arm would get a rest.
Putting Hermione's trunk simply on top of Harry's hadn't worked – it seemed that the weightless charm only applied to things inside the trunk, not on them.
"We could unpack some of my stuff and put it into yours," Hermione suggested reluctantly, clearly not liking the idea of disturbing the perfect order in her trunk.
"Hm, I think I have a better idea," Harry replied and silently asked Tom: "Do you think we could float it?"
Tom thought about it briefly, then nodded. "I think we should manage. I'm beginning to feel a tiny bit desperate – it looks like it's going to rain soon, and it'd be nice to have some time to rest before the feast."
"Hermione, take my suitcase," Harry told his friend. "I will try to levitate yours."
"Levitate my suitcase!" Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. "But … you don't have a wand, and we're not supposed to do magic outside Hogwarts anyway."
"No wand magic. But we can use telekinesis."
"Use what? I know you've been reading a lot on that stuff, Harry, but that's not real magic. It's what Muggles wish they could do, but no one really can. It's a hoax."
"No, it's not! Or maybe it's because I'm not a Muggle. I've been moving things with my mind for years. It takes some effort and a lot of concentration, but I think I can manage. Give me a minute."
Harry and Tom stared and focused on Hermione's trunk, willing it to float with all their mind. And although a thin layer of sweat soon covered Harry's forehead, the trunk floated – just like Harry's.
Triumphantly, Harry took a handle and began walking again, with a very astonished, but thoroughly impressed Hermione at his side.
"That's incredible, Harry, really! I didn't know you could do such a thing!"
"But you said you have floated things too, when you were a kid."
"That was accidental magic. It's – well, it's accidental! I couldn't control it. And it was more a matter of things jumping at me than actually floating."
"I couldn't, at first, either. It took a long time and a lot of practice. We started with small things, and slowly worked our way up to heavier items."
"We?"
Oops. "I," Harry corrected quickly. "I and supposedly any wizard kid who did the same once they knew they had this kind of power. Really, I wonder why you never tried."
"It scared my parents," Hermione said. "I tried very hard not to do anything like making books jump at me from the shelves."
"It probably scared her too, seeing the reaction of her parents," Tom mused. "Which is why she probably suppressed her magical powers instead of embracing them, like we did."
They were making good time now, although Harry soon felt that he was getting tired. Obviously, levitating an item for a longer time was a bit exhausting. Funnily enough, Hermione seemed to be getting tired, too. And on top of it all, they were soon caught in a rain shower.
"Quick, Hermione, let's get inside my trunk and wait it out. Otherwise, we'll be soaked within minutes."
The kids quickly did as Harry had suggested, closing the lid on top of them. Hermione's trunk, sadly, had to remain in the rain. As it had the same outer dimensions, it wouldn't fit into the opening, no matter which way they turned it.
"I think there was an extra enchantment for that as well – fitting something through the trunk opening that is much bigger. I wish I had got that, too, but I didn't think I'd be ever be transporting an elephant or something, so I thought I wouldn't need it."
"It's alright. My trunk should at least be waterproof. We should have taken the road after all. That way, we could have caught the carriages coming from the station."
"Oh, we should have just stayed in Hogsmeade until the arrival of the train and just mixed with the students. Why didn't we do that?"
"Because we're only twelve and don't always think clearly," sighed Hermione. "I thought we'd arrive at least with an hour to spare. Now it looks like we might even be late."
With the two of them together and all of Harry's new possessions, it was indeed a little crowded inside his trunk. But at least they were warm and dry. When they finally heard the rain on the trunk lid getting lighter and lighter, they climbed out again and continued on their way.
For some reason, Harry couldn't manage to make Hermione's trunk float anymore, no matter how hard he and Tom focused. Their need hadn't diminished, but probably their concentration. Harry was dead tired and desperately wished for his bed.
The last remaining distance up the hill the castle was sitting on seemed to drag out for hours, and both kids were exhausted by the time they made it to the castle entrance.
"Oh no, Harry, look - the sorting is about to start!" cried Hermione, pointing at the lighted windows. "We are much too late after all!"
"Yes, yes you are!" said a dark voice behind their backs, and when they both turned around startled, they were looking into the rather angry face of Professor Snape.
"Hello, Sir!" Harry said, delighted to see his Head of House again. "Why aren't you at the sorting?"
Professor Snape's gaze darkened. "Why indeed – could it possibly be because I am investigating the mysterious disappearance of two students who failed to show up at King's Cross in time to catch their train?"
"But we were there in time!" protested Hermione. "We just couldn't get onto the platform."
"You couldn't get onto the platform," the professor repeated, giving the sentence a slightly sarcastic flavour somehow. He often did that. Harry had yet to figure out how.
"It's true!" he said defensively. "The barrier wouldn't open!"
Professor Snape didn't look convinced but decided that the entrance hall was not the place to investigate the matter. "Let's go to my office, shall we? It seems like you have a lot of explaining to do."
A bit subdued, Harry and Hermione followed behind Professor Snape, who had instructed them to leave their trunks in the hall. They hadn't thought they'd be in trouble. After all, it wasn't their fault that they hadn't made it onto the train. That's what they told the professor, too, when they sat behind his desk on two rather uncomfortable chairs. He seemed very sceptical on hearing their excuse, though.
"In all my time at Hogwarts – and I have been here quite a long time even without adding my student years – there has never been such an incident. Why is it that things started to go haywire the second you set foot into Hogwarts, Mr. Potter?"
"I really don't know, Sir. Maybe I have really bad karma?"
"Or it's more a case of really bad thinking! Why did you decide to take the Knight Bus instead of getting help from an adult?"
"Because there was no adult to help!" exclaimed Hermione, upset. "My parents were on their way back home, and there was no train going there because of a disruption in service. Who should we have contacted?"
"You could've sent your owl to Hogwarts."
Harry shook his head. "Hedwig was already in Hogwarts. It didn't seem sensible to carry her there in a cage when she was perfectly fine with flying by herself, so I sent her ahead."
"Then you could have tried the Leaky Cauldron. It's not that far from King's Cross station."
"But Sir, what should we have done at a pub in London when we were expected in our school in Scotland?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Sorry, but that sounds more like something we'd get in trouble for."
"To have somebody fire call, of course!"
"Fire call?" Hermione and Harry both looked at him in confusion. They truly had no idea what their professor was talking about.
"The Floo network! I assumed you had heard of that by now. It can transport wizards through the fireplace with the help of Floo powder. It can also be used to talk to a person with access to another fireplace."
"Oh, that!" Harry said with a furrowed brow. "Neville mentioned it once. But I didn't know one could make phone calls with it."
"Neither did I," Hermione supported their defence. "It's not mentioned in any of the books I've read." She sounded put out about that. How could they be expected to know such things if authors of books on magic considered such knowledge too trivial to even bring it up?
"Then please explain why – if you arrived in Hogsmeade in the afternoon – it took you that many hours to cover the remaining small distance to the castle!"
"Well, we thought we had ample time and walked around in the village for a little while. We had just sat in the Knight Bus for four hours, which wasn't really fun, and we were hungry, too. So we had something to eat and then left with plenty of time to reach the castle."
"And the idea that people would worry about you didn't cross your minds?"
Harry gave his professor an astonished look. Who should have worried about them?
"He did, I think," Tom ventured. "I told you, despite all his whining, you seem to have grown on him."
Shaking his head at Harry's dumbfounded expression, his professor explained: "Your friend Neville Longbottom noticed that you both were not on the train when it departed. He was very worried and contacted the prefects, who informed the head girl and head boy, who then contacted Professor Flitwick and myself."
"Really?" Harry now looked abashed. "I didn't think anybody could contact you from the train …"
"Do you really think that we would leave students without means of contact in case of an emergency on board?" He looked at Harry then raised his hand. "No, please don't answer that."
"Sorry," piped in Hermione. "We really didn't think anyone would worry about us. Otherwise, we would have come back right away. We planned to be there with time to spare, but we had forgotten about our trunks."
Hermione told the professor about their difficulties, and Harry explained how they had solved the issue. Professor Snape's eyebrows rose to form an even higher arch on his forehead.
"You levitated your trunk the entire way to the castle?" he repeated in disbelief, just to make sure he had heard that correctly.
"No, I didn't," said Harry, again on the defensive. "I know I'm not allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts, and I didn't even have my wand. I used my telekinetic powers."
Tom winced. "I'm not sure you should've told him that! It was our secret weapon!"
"Your … what?" Professor Snape stared at him as if Harry had just grown another head. Which probably would have been Tom's, and Harry was distracted there for a moment imagining the logistics, if Tom had his own head growing out of Harry's body. A bit better than a face on the back of his head, but still …
"Mr. Potter!"
"Yes, Sir!"
"How did you float your trunk without a wand?"
Harry shrugged. "With my mind powers? I just concentrated on it and wanted it really badly to float." It probably wouldn't have worked without Tom adding his powers, but he still wasn't prepared to tell anybody about him.
The professor pinched his nose and gave a deep sigh. "Nothing is ever easy or normal with you, is it, Potter? I can truly say that you are the most exasperating student I've had the dubious pleasure of teaching."
Harry blinked. He didn't think that the professor was saying the truth. He had to teach the twins, after all. Surely, Harry was harmless compared to them? What had he done wrong? He asked his professor.
"What you did is called wandless magic. It's not wrong - it's just very advanced and you shouldn't be able to do it at your age. At all."
"But all kids do wandless magic all the time when they are young, don't they?" Hermione wanted to know.
"Yes, they do. But it wasn't accidental when Mr. Potter floated your trunk, was it?"
They shook their heads.
"Wandless magic is very exhausting. It takes a lot of power to lift and move heavy loads. Am I to understand that you also dragged your own floating trunk behind you most of the day?"
"Yes, but it's self-floating," said Harry dismissively.
"Which means that a charm is embedded in your trunk so you don't have to bother to perform it and concentrate on keeping it up, which is the case with a Levitation charm. But the power to move the trunk still comes from you! It's basic physics, Mr. Potter, as I assume you have been taught in Muggle school. The power for magic has to come from somewhere. And unless you're drawing from some kind of magical reservoir, magic always comes from a wizard's core. Thus it exhausts you, especially if your core is still small, given that you're a child."
"Oh!" Hermione breathed, her face lighting up in sudden understanding. "That's how it works! I have been wondering about that …"
"I see it was a mistake that Hogwarts abolished teaching Theory of Magic. It was perhaps optimistic to assume it's common sense. Mr. Potter, I want you to report to the hospital wing and have Madame Pompfrey check you for magical exhaustion."
"But I feel fine!" protested Harry, who always felt guilty when people saw the need to dedicate their precious time or money to him. He certainly wasn't used to it and didn't want to cause anyone any inconvenience.
"For once, put your trust in an adult and believe me when I tell you that you need to be checked," said his Head of House, sounding exasperated, which was even worse than inconvenienced. "Magical exhaustion is not to be trifled with. Please see her right away and report back to me after that. You, Miss Granger, go to the feast. Your trunk will have been delivered to your room. I will leave it to your Head of House to determine point loss or detention."
"But Sir!" protested Hermione. "It really wasn't our fault that we couldn't get onto the train!"
"I said you may discuss it with your Head of House. That's not me, so please, spare me your arguments."
Hermione sighed. "See you tomorrow, Harry. I'm sorry if you suffered any ill effect due to carrying my trunk."
"Don't worry about it, Hermione. We didn't know, and I'm sure I'll be alright. Sleep well."
"You know where to go to, Mr. Potter. I expect you back shortly – unless Madame Pomfrey keeps you right there, in which case she'll doubtlessly contact me."
Harry nodded and trotted to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey did indeed find his magical reserves very low and gave him a bar of chocolate for fast energy and a potion. Then she instructed him to have a full and healthy meal and go to bed early. "And no use of any magic for at least a day!" she told him sternly.
Which was fine, thought Harry on his way back to Professor Snape's office. He didn't have his wand anyway. Probably another topic he'd have to discuss with the professor.
To his surprise, once Harry had told him of Madame Pomfrey's findings, Professor Snape had a house-elf (there were house-elves at Hogwarts!) deliver a dinner plate for Harry – including dessert and a huge glass of pumpkin juice. That was awfully nice of him – Harry was used to being sent to bed without dessert – sometimes even without dinner – when he had done something that upset his aunt. He just didn't understand why the Professor had such a bad reputation at Hogwarts. He was really kind and caring, if one was willing to overlook his snide remarks and his harshness.
The Professor let Harry eat in peace for a while, and Harry almost thought he had missed the small detail in their previous discussion. Of course, he hadhn't.
"What happened to your wand, Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape inquired, when Harry had almost finished his meal.
"It's in my old trunk, Sir. The one Aunt Petunia locked into the cupboard under the stairs when I got home from Hogwarts. I wasn't able to retrieve it when I left the Dursleys. It was locked by key."
"If you didn't have access to your trunk at all during the holidays, how did you do your homework or any studying?"
"I didn't," Harry admitted sheepishly. "But I couldn't have done much of the reading anyway at the Dursley's, as I didn't get my supply list."
"Are you telling me you arrived without any supplies again?"h
"No, Hermione got her list, and we met in Diagon Alley, I was able to replace everything from my old trunk. I got new clothes, a new uniform and my new books. I tried to get a new wand, too, but Mr. Ollivander wouldn't sell me one. He said it's illegal to have two."
Again, Professor Snape heaved a deep sigh.
"Yes. Buying a wand is not like buying a new quill. They're not easily replaceable, which is why a wizard usually is very careful with his wand and wouldn't let it be taken out of his hands."
"What was I to do? Aunt Petunia doesn't like magic. She doesn't like me to have any magical gimmicks lying around in the house. And she wouldn't let me go to Diagon Alley. I had no choice but to sneak out."
"You left without notice again?"
"Well, she had locked me into the room and put bars on my windows. I was not going to say good-bye on my way out."
The professor seemed alarmed. "Bars on the windows? Locked into your room? Why?"
"Because Dudley's a dick!" said Harry petulantly. "And because she hates magic and didn't want me to stay at Hermione's."
"Language, Mr. Potter!" the Professor chided. He didn't like rudeness or swearwords, which, as Tom pointed out, was funny, given that he was rude all the time. "How did you manage to get out of your room, if you were locked in?"
"I used my telekinetic powers on the door latch," Harry said, grinning. "They were stupid enough to use the same kind of lock again."
"Please, Mr. Potter, do call it wandless magic," Professor Snape bade him, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No wizard will know what you're talking about otherwise, and those who do will think it ridiculous."
"Yes, Sir." Harry wondered if wandless magic was forbidden during the holidays as well and if he should worry about that.
"Certainly not," Tom promptly rejected the notion. "We've been doing it all the time without them ever finding out. How would they know? I honestly think we should practice it even more. It sounds like there are many other charms that might work without a wand, and that would be a very useful skill to have!"
"So, to recapitulate: Your trunk is currently locked in the cupboard under the stairs in Privet Drive Nr. 4. Is there anything else you will be needing from there?"
"Well, I couldn't take Hedwig's cage with me, but I'm not sure I'm going to bring her back to the Dursleys anyway. They wanted to lock her inside the entire summer! I told them she would self-incinerate if they did that, and before I left, I told her to fly to Hagrid."
"Self-incinerate?"
"Yes, well, I had to come up with something."
"Since you had your owl with you for most of the summer, may I ask why you did not send me a note, as I had requested?"
"But … you said I was to write to you if there was anything I couldn't deal with myself. I thought you meant an emergency."
"And you being locked into a room for days with bars on the windows did not categorize as an emergency in your eyes?"
"No?" Harry said, sounding a bit insecure now. An emergency was when one's life was in danger, right? That's when one called 999. "I was able to handle it. And I was going to tell you all about the missing mail and the deranged house-elf when I got back here.
"Tell me about what?"
Harry dutifully reported about the troubles with his incoming mail and that it eventually turned out that a deranged elf had somehow managed to intercept it. He told his professor about the elf's warning that Harry shouldn't go back to Hogwarts because a sinister plan was being hatched. Then he suddenly stopped and his eyes widened, when Tom all but shouted: "It was the elf! The elf blocked the barrier to prevent you from getting to Hogwarts!"
"No way!" said Harry aloud, not really in protest but in disbelieving awe. That totally made sense.
"No way – what, Mr. Potter?"
"Sir – could it have been the elf who somehow blocked the barrier from letting me pass? He said he didn't want me to go back to Hogwarts and was willing to steal my mail to achieve it. Could it have been an elf from Hogwarts?"
His professor blinked in surprise and seemed to be thinking it through. "That would constitute another first in all of Hogwarts' history, but with you, Mr. Potter, one learns to expect the unexpected."
"Sorry…" Harry really felt bad for his professor, who didn't like to be caught off guard, and yet Harry seemed to have a knack for doing just that. No wonder he didn't like him very much. He was really making a good effort to hide it, though.
"Stop apologizing for things that are clearly not your fault and feel contrite for things that you can control! You should feel contrite for not having contacted me immediately! I'm your legal representative, and I take that task seriously! Locking a child into a room is not acceptable, certainly not for an extended period of time. Not allowing a child to do their homework and preventing them from getting their school supplies is also inexcusable. And if strangers just appear in your bedroom, uttering threats and tampering with your private correspondence, that is most definitely an emergency and justifies seeking help! Did I manage to get that into your thick skull?"
"Yes, Sir," said Harry contritely.
"Go to bed, Harry," Professor Snape said, sounding tired himself. "I will see that you get your wand back and I will inform the headmaster that we might have a few security issues. We will take care of it."
"Thank you, Professor! Good night."