Chapter 4

"HESITANT FUDGE DELAYS SPEECH

by F Joanside

CORNELIUS Fudge called off his planned speech today. The original topic was the World Cup Final venue, which is as yet unknown. Critics have called out the Minister of Magic, portraying his apprehension as cowardice. This paper understands the need to gather all of the information, as it has been centuries since muggle Britain and muggle Ireland have been at war. The precarious position of each Ministry of Magic has made trade deals fall through as of last night. Notably, the broom manufacturer Nimbus has announced plans to cut staff at their Irish factory.

Irish witches and wizards have been told by the Irish Ministry that if they wish to return home, the financial burden will be on the shoulders of the government.

The Prophet was decidedly propagandist, Harry announced to himself. He knew that Fudge was a selfish, cowardly, useless Minister for Magic. Harry was frankly amazed that The Prophet managed to spin it into complimentary, as little as it was.

Kicking around a half-flat football in Number 4's back garden, Harry was worrying himself. He knew of The Troubles in Northern Ireland from his last time round, Seamus had been fretting about it all 5th Year. What Harry did not know, was how things could have changed. After all, so far he had done so little, moved a few things around, talked to people more than he did before, and so on. He tried to reassure himself it was a freak coincidence. In his past life, he knew how awfully close it came to being an all-out war, so maybe it was just one of those coinflip scenarios.

Tossing the crumpled up newspaper into the recycling, Harry returned to the kitchen. In there awaited him was a reply from Snape. After the initial astonishment that Snape sent him a letter willingly, Harry clocked on that it would likely be full of insults relating to his father, or himself.

Potter,

The following students left school this summer, are muggleborn, and achieved an O in NEWT potions.

1. Penelope Clearwater

2. Geoffrey Blackwood

3. Pythia Giannopoulou

I applaud your initiative in asking for suitable tutors. If only you had had this epiphany years ago. I not only expect but require your potion-making skills to be at an acceptable level by September. If not, you shall not enjoy the privilege of Hogsmeade again. Do not think that your forays into the village were unnoticed.

Professor S. Snape.

Harry really was an idiot, he spoke to a NEWT potions student yesterday and didn't think to ask her. While their Runes lessons so far were more question and answer lectures, Harry knew the potions tutorage would be less conversational.

"Harry, I really can't accept all this," Penny said, sounding concerned. "I know you'll be okay for money, but this is far too much for catch-up lessons."

Harry was obstinate, his hand outstretched with a pouch of Galleons hanging from one finger.

"I don't see why not, if you're going to help me with every subject it only makes sense to reimburse your time."

Penny huffed and rolled her eyes. "100 Galleons is far more than just a reimbursement of my time, and you know that."

"I'm trying to help you! You said you've been struggling for work, this should at least tide you over." Harry was beginning to get frustrated, and could tell she was too.

"I don't need your pity!" Penny shouted. "And I don't want to scrounge money off a thirteen year old."

"Fine, be like that." Harry hissed through gritted teeth, tossing the money pouch across the room. "This lesson is canceled if you can't tell." He said from the living room door, scowling as he left.

Harry stormed up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door behind himself. He knew, that Penny knew, that the upstairs was still unfurnished. His foul mood however required time to himself.

God! She was just like Ron when he got like this. Years of awkward conversations whenever Harry picked up the bill at the Three Broomsticks, or whispered arguments when Hermione paid for his stationary.

The intelligent, adult part of his brain knew he wasn't angry at Penny. He was angry at how he missed his best friends, how he would never really see them again. He was angry he would never be able to tell anyone all this. This complex web of grieving people that haven't even died, from a future Harry was trying to avoid.

Unfortunatly the stupid, teenage part of his brain lashed out at his best chance of a peer his own age. Someone who tried to help him purely because she was kind, and someone who refused a bag of gold out of pride, and not shame like Ron had all those years ago.

Harry had fucked things up, he knew he had. He had a screaming match with someone trying to help him, and someone he liked. Penny would have probably left by the time Harry dragged himself downstairs. It had been around an hour, judging by the second hand clock he hoped was not broken.

Dusk was settling into night, and the dry summer day was bleeding into a humid summer night. The house was too warm, Harry wandered outside again. Hoping to boot the football as far as he could, to at least relieve a tiny bit of anger.

Sitting on the grass, halfway down the garden in the shade of the fence, was Penny. Her face was in her hands and she was shaking slightly, definitely crying.

Harry fought not to groan to himself, and slowly walked over. Almost on his tip-toes he approached her like he would a sleeping dragon.

She sniffed and turned around, it was too dark to take in her face completely. Harry could see from her glassy eyes she had been sobbing since he left. The fearful look on Penny's face sent a shock of disgust through his body. Disgust with himself for upsetting her so needlessly.

"May I sit?" Harry said, as gently as he could.

"Only if you don't start screaming at me again." She said, turning back away.

The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder in silence. Harry dared not try to hold her hand or pat her back. It took conscious effort to remind himself this wasn't Hermione and they weren't as close as family.

"It's just-" He began.

"Don't." She said quietly.

Penny rested her head on his shoulder and shed her tears into his t-shirt. Harry reached an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder gingerly.

The two of them remained like this until much later into the night, neither one speaking a word. Penny wordlessly left at around midnight, leaving Harry sitting in the garden alone to his thoughts.

AN: Thank you all for your patience, and apologies for the short chapter. Anyway though i hoped you enjoyed, please like and review. Love ya xx