Chapter 32
A/N: To everyone suggesting Hermione use Dobby — it's a good idea, except I don't think any of them know yet that they can call Dobby. Unless I'm forgetting something, in the books I don't think Harry learns how to call a house elf until Book 6 with Kreacher at the very beginning seeing Dumbles do it.
Saturday afternoon, Harry was in his room, laying on his bed.
He was trying to avoid the blistering heat they were having that summer, keeping busy by reading Advanced Quidditch Techniques for Seekers that he'd picked up the week before on one of his trips to Diagon Alley with Hermione, when there came a tap on his bedroom window. Opening it up, he took the letter off the owl's leg, and returned to his bed to read it. There were two letters rolled up together, the one on top quite short, while the one behind it was much longer. Harry started with the short one in front.
~.~
Hi Harry,
I hope you're doing okay. The Weasleys came and collected me yesterday morning, and this is the first chance I've had to write you. I can't say much, as I've been told not to tell you anything important in case the letter goes astray, and certainly can't talk about you know what and everything that happened at the end of last term. I've been busy even though I've only been here a day so far, but I can't give you details. But I'll tell you everything when I see you again.
Stay safe, and hope to see you soon,
Hermione
~.~
Harry set the first letter down, more confused by it than anything, before beginning the second letter.
~.~
Hi Harry,
Sorry for the absolute nothingness of the first letter — this is my real letter.
Mrs Weasley came to my house Friday morning with Ginny in tow, to take me to where I currently am now. I actually can't tell you where I am due to magic (still need to look up the spell), just that it's in a neighborhood called Grimmauld Place and is Sirius's family home (and that was a test, to see if the ink would vanish or something if I tried to tell you too much, but at least right now I can still see it) — but I can say it's a complete dump. I've never seen a place this bad before in my life, and it would certainly be condemned by health inspectors if they could see it or there were any in the wizarding world. But more relevantly, all of the Weasley clan except Charlie, who's still in Romania, and Percy, who the twins told me when we got a few minutes alone last night to chat has sided with the Ministry. There was a big row between him and Mr Weasley, but I can tell you more of that when I do finally get to see you again.
Speaking of which, I obviously won't be able to visit you again this summer, as we're not allowed to even leave the house and go outside, let alone come visit you. Of course, I haven't actually told any of them that I have been visiting you this summer, as I don't get the feeling any of them would approve of it given how much secrecy they're going through. But Mrs Weasley promised me that you would be brought here 'soon', though needless to say she refused to give me an actual date, so hopefully you'll get to come here before we both grow old and die — fingers crossed.
As for what I've been busy with that Dumbledore himself told me I can't give you any details about in case my letter goes astray — we're cleaning the bloody house! How for Christ's sake is that important!? Who gives a bloody hell if Voldemort finds out we're muggly cleaning a stupid dump of a house!? And yeah — the Matriarch is trying to make us clean this magical house like bloody muggle slaves! Of course, I've been using my wand since the moment I started, which has already resulted in a couple rows between her and I, and a constant stream of glares at me (and more than a few returned when I'm not busy making this derelict dump sanitary and safe enough to live in), but has resulted in the twins openly using magic to clean, along with Sirius when he's helping us, and Tonks when she's here (who I'll tell you a lot more about later — she's cool), and any other adults who stop by with some spare time to help. And getting to that, Sirius is obviously here in his house. Lupin, Mad-Eye (the real one this time), Tonks, McGonagall, Snape, Dumbledore, and some more I didn't know were here for supper last night. There's lot's more in what's called the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's group that fought Voldemort last time, but that's all I've seen so far. It's a bunch of adults who refuse to let me hear anything, or ask any real questions — so I know nothing more than you, honestly, if that makes you feel any better (I know it won't, but I had to try).
And honestly, even after only one meal, I'm already fed up with these adults. They won't answer any of my questions because, and I quote the Bitch in her high-pitched banshee screech, "You're too young!", despite the fact the only reason they know a bloody thing is because of you. And it's only been a day, but we students sure as hell aren't doing anything to destroy Voldemort, and I have yet to see or hear anything that indicates any actual action has been taken by any of the adults to kill him once and for all, either.
And in case you're curious as to how I'm writing all this to you, I convinced Mrs Weasley that I, the perfect teacher's pet who would never break any rule an adult gave me (are they seriously that delusional to still believe that after 4 years of watching me?), could be trusted to take the owl with the letter tied to its leg up to the fourth floor window we can send them out of, without taking the letter off and adding this second sheet of parchment that I didn'tshow them, before sending the owl on its merry way — yeah, they're all idiots. Oh yeah, sorry, forgot to mention — I have to have any letter I send to you read over by a 'responsible adult' (so not Tonks, who'd let me get by with anything, and even encourage it) to make sure it doesn't give anything 'important' away.
But as I can't be guaranteed that I will continue to be able to pull this off, I'm going to have to be creative about how I tell you what's going on here (if anything ever actually bloody occurs), for when they do read my letters to you before letting me send them — because Heaven forbid Voldemort find out we aren't living in squalor!
I'm at least not at the Burrow, though, thank God. I probably wouldhave ran away from there already, and caught the Knight Bus back home. Like I said, this place is a dump, but it's at least big enough to get away from the Matriarch, and it has a nice library I discovered last night. But you're really not missing anything other than the Matriarch shouting at anyone she doesn't think is following her every demand.
Except Tonks, who is definitely my new bff even though I just met her yesterday. She's Sirius's cousin, which would make her your godcousin. She's seven years older than us, graduating Hogwarts the year before we started, and she's an auror now. She's also a metamorphmagus, which means she can change any part of her body at will (and yes, any part — I know exactly where your mind will go when you read that). You'll really like her, when you finally get to meet her. And she's bloody cute.
I think that's about it though, so I'll stop yakking your ear off. I'll try to write what I can, when I can, but it'll probably be challenging. But write me all you want — I don't think the adults will be intercepting incoming mail and reading it, but if they do maybe they'll finally be smart enough to realize how abusive it is to leave you all alone at the Dursleys.
I miss you terribly already, and I love you forever. Hugs and kisses, Your girlfriend,
Hermione
~.~
Now that's more like my girlfriend, thought Harry to himself with a smile when he finally finished reading.
He was certainly bummed that he wouldn't be able to see his girlfriend again until he was finally allowed to leave Privet Drive for wherever Hermione and the Weasleys were, and that Hermione was stuck somewhere she didn't want to be, but he at least knew that he wasn't missing anything other than his best friend by not being there, and that Hermione would have still been at home coming to visit him a few times a week if she had been given a choice.
He immediately got out a pen and paper, and wrote a quick reply to send to her as soon as Hedwig got back, the owl that had delivered Hermione's letter having flown off the moment he'd taken the letters off its leg.
~.~
Hi Hermione,
Thanks for telling me. Hopefully I'll be able to see you again soon, but based on all the summers so far, it'll probably be forever. Nothing exciting has happened here since we last talked.
Miss you too, and love you,
Harry
Chapter 33
A/N: Since I'm extra nice and decided to give you two chapters today, since they are both pretty short.
The next two weeks until Harry's birthday passed without major incident.
Mrs Weasley still hated Hermione for doing everything with magic and leading everyone else to do the same against her demands, and Hermione still wished she was at home with her parents so she could be visiting Harry, and none of them were told anything actually going on by any of the adults. The twins had introduced their latest product, extendable ears for listening in to covert conversations from a distance, but even with those they still hadn't really learned anything important about what the Order was actually doing that couldn't have just been guessed from conversations they were allowed to hear.
Hermione continued to send letters to Harry every few days, just so he would get mail even if she couldn't really tell him anything, and there wasn't anything to tell him anyway.
But while she couldn't say much, she did continue to keep him abreast about the Daily Prophet's libeling of him and Dumbledore, by pointing out the articles such libel was contained in, as no adult could complain about her asking in her letters if he'd read the article on page such and such about this or that, as the Daily Prophet was public knowledge and written by the second enemy anyway, not anyone in the Order, so it obviously couldn't include any secret messages by the Order for any enemies to intercept and decode. And as none of the adults approving her letters could remember the specific article off the top of their heads as they read the letter she was trying to send, they didn't think that the articles would have been anything other than an article on Quidditch or something that Hermione would think Harry would find interesting.
Additionally, she always tried to mention at least one new thing about Tonks in each of her letters, so Harry would know her fairly well already by the time he got there, even without ever having met her before. And just so he would know nothing new or exciting had happened since her last letter, she would write something along the lines of 'Still busy doing the same things', or 'Making good progress with the busywork'.
As for Harry's return letters to her, he didn't have much new to say either, as nothing ever happened on Privet Drive.
Not that much was happening at Grimmauld Place that she didn't couldn't or didn't feel pertinent to tell him, either, but there were a few things going on. For one, she and Tonks were picking out some of the less dangerous artifacts they were discovering throughout the house as they cleaned it up to give to the twins to experiment with for their joke shop Harry had caused to be officially founded with his thousand galleon start-up investment that he'd given them. Hermione knew she could never write anything about that in any of her letters, as history had proven that their mum did not approve in the least and would confiscate not only their creatively and ingeniously invented products, but probably Harry's money to them as well if she ever found out about any of it, and Hermione and Tonks' involvement in the new company by funneling them potentially useful things they found in the house.
Additionally, Hermione made sure to make time to get to know Tonks better, usually either in the library at night after supper when Mrs Weasley finally let them off work, or in one of their side by side rooms when they were all supposed to be asleep in bed. And Tonks wanted to hear everything Hermione would tell her about Harry and their first four years at school, especially all the trouble they had gotten into and Harry's experiences in the triwizard tournament the year before, having been something of a concierge of trouble herself during her seven years at Hogwarts.
As for the actual cleaning of the house itself, they petrified a bunch of doxys in the drawing room and saucer-sized spiders in the dining room, storing them in separate boxes for Tonks to drop off for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, except for a few doxys and their eggs that made it into the twins' hands for the joke shop, as did a box of wartcap powder from the drawing room.
Thanks to Hermione's dedication to knowledge, Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy made it safely into the library where it belonged for the preservation of history, as did a number of ancient seals, Sirius's grandfather's Order of Merlin: First Class, Sirius's father's large golden ring bearing the Black crest, the china from the dining room bearing the Black crest and motto, and a set of old photographs of the Black family in tarnished silver frames.
A heavy gold locket with an ornate letter S inlaid with many small green stones on its front went into Tonks's box with all the other dangerous artifacts they found to take to the aurors office, since everyone who got near it got a sinister feeling about it and they couldn't open it, so they figured it must be cursed in some way, and wanted it checked out by professionals and de-cursed if possible before they moved it to the library with the rest of the Black artifacts of historical value and family significance.
A boggart was expelled from the writing desk in the drawing room by Sirius, Tonks, Lupin, Hermione and the twins, as Sirius, Lupin and Tonks all figured that between the six of them — one auror, four of age wizards, and the brightest witch in generations — that if it turned out to be something other than the boggart they were all pretty sure it was, they would still be able to take care of it together. But it did turn out to just a boggart, and they had it gone in no time.
The grandfather clock on the third floor hallway that liked to shoot heavy bolts at passersby actually took them most of an afternoon to fix even with magic, as the clock itself was imbued with magic and curses, and couldn't just be cleaned up and called good or thrown in a box to be taken to the aurors office most of the other stuff they had to deal with. But the ancient set of purple robes in one of the upper bedrooms were just straight-up set ablaze by Tonks after they had tried to strangle her and she'd had to be rescued by Hermione who was working with her. Tonks might have been with Hermione on preserving as much of the history of the house and the Black family heritage as reasonably possible, but they were just robes, and she wasn't very happy with them for trying to strangle her, so their state of being Black family robes wasn't able to save them from Tonks' wrath.
~HP~
Meanwhile, across the country on Privet Drive, Harry's birthday finally arrived.
It was ignored like always by his relatives, but Hermione and the twins had each sent him a box of Honeydukes chocolates, which Hermione had hid another long letter in, telling him about some of the more interesting obstacles they had encountered while cleaning the house, and what little new information she had gleaned about Voldemort and the Order since the last time she'd been able to send him an unredacted letter. Not that she actually had much to say on that front, but she correctly figured Harry would rather hear the nothing new they'd learned than hear nothing at all. She also assured him that she'd continuously been asking every adult she could when he was going to finally be brought there, but no one would ever give her any answer other than 'soon' or some derivative of such, so that was all she could give him, too.
But it was still something for Harry, and he greatly appreciated the effort Hermione was making to try to keep him abreast of what was going on as best she could, and all in all, it was one of the better birthdays he'd ever had.
Chapter 34
The seven o'clock news had just ended, and yet again there was nothing that sounded like the work of Voldemort.
Harry reached over and picked up the book he'd been reading while waiting for the seven o'clock news to start, but had only been reading again for a few seconds when there was suddenly a loud crack. From inside the house came a shriek and the sound of china breaking, and nearby a cat streaked out from under a car and tore off down the road.
Instinctively, Harry pulled his wand out from his jeans pocket and rolled over onto his stomach to peer out though the bushes at the street, where it sounded like the noise had come from. But the street seemed to be completely deserted, the only sign of life being several neighbors looking out their windows curiously, wondering what had cause the unusual noise.
"Where is that boy?" he heard his uncle growl from inside the house through the open window. "Making a racket like a pistol right outside our house!"
Harry rolled his eyes, his uncle always assuming that anything out of the ordinary had to be him, the wizard. Though this time, he had to partially agree with his uncle — that had sounded exactly like the sound Dobby made when he apparated and disapparated. But there was absolutely no one to be seen on Privet Drive, house elf, wizard, or muggle.
After several minutes of waiting and watching to see if anything else would happen, and to make sure his aunt and uncle weren't still looking out the window above him to possibly see him sneaking out from under the bush, he finally began to slowly creep out from his hiding spot. Once out from behind the bush, he crossed the yard and started slowly walking up the street, a couple hours still to waste until he could enter the house just before his cousin and not get yelled at, or at least glared at, by his uncle for either being in the house during the day, or out past Dudley — it was a very fine line to navigate.
He eventually wandered his way to the nearby park where he'd met Hermione several times earlier in the summer, and settled into the one remaining swing that hadn't been broken by Dudley and his crew, to continue reading until the evening light faded.
~HP~
Almost two hours later, as Harry sat swinging lightly in the swing, looking out unseeingly at the nearby street, idly wondering what his girlfriend was doing at the moment, he heard the voices of Dudley's crew coming that direction.
Having no interest in meeting his cousin or his cousin's fellow hooligans, Harry silently hopped down from the swing and slipped off across the parched grass to Elm Street. It was a longer route back home than the one Dudley would be taking, but he knew his cousin would just be strolling along, having no reason to get home quickly as Vernon and Petunia had never been upset with their son for anything in his entire life, so he'd still easily beat his cousin back to Number Four Privet Drive without any trouble — he'd done so repeatedly that summer.
But a few streets later, as he turned down the narrow alleyway that would take him over to Wisteria Walk, he gave a shuddering gasp, as though someone had thrown ice water on him. At the same time, the night around him suddenly went pitch-black dark, all the stars, moon, and streetlights at either end of the alleyway vanishing, along with all the background noises of the night. The previously balmy temperature became ice cold, causing him to shiver as he looked around to find the source of this sudden change.
He knew the only thing it could possibly be, having experienced it on a far greater scale two years earlier saving his godfather, but it was completely impossible that they could actually be there, in Little Whinging. As he stared unseeing into the darkness, his wand out and ready, and spell on the tip of his tongue to shout if he was right, he listened as hard as he could, knowing he would hear them before he saw them.
And few seconds later, he did hear the long, hoarse, rattling breath that meant he was unfortunately right. As he felt a chill creep up his spine from behind, he spun around shouting, "Expecto Patronum!", his happiest memory of snogging Hermione occupying his mind. The enormous stag that was his patronus burst out of the tip of his wand, and charged down the towering, hooded figure that was gliding down the narrow alleyway towards him. The silver stag threw the dementor backwards with its antlers, forcing the dementor to swoop away into the night, defeated.
But to Harry's horror, the night didn't return, and he felt another chill and heard another rattling breath from behind him — there had been at least two dementors, and they had been trying to trap him in between them.
"THIS WAY!" he shouted at his patronus, wheeling around to face the second dementor.
His stag came galloping past him, catching the second dementor in what would have been its heart if it had one, just as it had the first one.
As that dementor swooped away as well, and his stag finished cantering to the end of the alleyway and disappeared into silvery smoke, the night finally returned to its previous mundane self, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. But before he could even begin to contemplate the fact that there had been two dementors in Little Whinging that had tried to kiss him (for he had no doubt that was their intended goal, trapping him between them in a narrow alleyway as they had), he suddenly heard footsteps running up behind him. Turning, wand still out and ready for any new fresh danger, he saw it was Mrs Figg.
But as he tried to hastily stow away his wand before the old muggle lady could see it, she shrieked, "Don't put it away, idiot boy! What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"
Harry stared at her in disbelief for several. He had heard the name Mundungus Fletcher a few times over the past few years and definitely from the wizarding world, though he couldn't at the moment remember when or where, but he had no clue who the guy actually was. Or how his batty old cat-lady neighbor could know him. Then he realized she had specifically told him not to put his wand away, because there might be more of them — the dementors — around, and he knew she must have some magical connection.
"Mrs Figg?" he asked in confusion, not even sure what to actually ask.
"He left!" shouted Mrs Figg, wringing her hands and seemingly talking mostly to herself. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom—"
The old woman seemed to be just rambling, so Harry quickly cut her off.
"You're a witch?" he asked.
"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off Dementors?" she practically shrieked. "He left you completely without cover when I'd warned him —"
But Harry's mind was busy putting two and two together, and he realized it must have been this Fletcher person who had made the loud crack in front of the Dursleys' house earlier that evening, as he had disapparated away to buy a bunch of cauldrons or whatever she'd said.
When he tuned back into Mrs Figg, he found her still rambling on. "— but luckily I'd stationed Mr Tibbles under a car just in case, and Mr Tibbles came and warned me, but by the time I got to your house you'd gone — and now — oh, what's Dumbledore going to say?"
Actually looking at Harry again, she said, "Now come on! We have to get you back inside! I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as Transfigured a teabag."
As they hurried down the alleyway and turned onto Wisteria Walk, she told him, "Keep your wand out. Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery...this was exactly what Dumbledore was afraid of - What's that at the end of the street? Oh, it's just Mr Prentice...don't put your wand away, boy, don't I keep telling you I'm no use?"
They quickly made it down Wisteria Walk to Privet Drive, Mrs Figg still mumbling under her breath about Fletcher, Dumbledore, the Dursleys, and who knew what else — Harry was too busy constantly checking around them to make sure they weren't attacked again to pay much attention to her. But just as they turned onto Privet Drive, there was another loud crack, and who Harry assumed must be Mundungus Fletcher appeared before them.
After a large amount of yelling by Mrs Figg, Fletcher disapparated off again to go tell Dumbledore what had happened, and Harry and Mrs Figg continued on to Number Four. When they reached his house, Mrs Figg told him once again to stay inside, before disappearing back down the street, leaving Harry to walk up the garden path alone.
Opening the door and entering the house, he was pleased to find that he'd still beaten Dudley home despite the minor dementor hiccup on his way, and also that his aunt and uncle weren't standing around anywhere waiting for their son to arrive, to question Harry about why he was trying to enter the house before their Diddykins could even be seen walking up the street. He quickly slipped up to his room and collapsed onto his bed, thinking hard about everything that had happened.
Several minutes later, he heard Dudley enter the house, and make his way into the kitchen doubtlessly hoping to sneak a late night snack without his parents knowing. But based on the noise of indistinct conversation he heard floating up to his bedroom, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had been waiting in the kitchen to foil his plan.
Harry payed little attention to this noise from downstairs, until he suddenly heard Vernon bellowing up through the house at him, "HARRY! GET DOWN HERE NOW!"
Wondering what the hell he could have possibly done this time, Harry headed downstairs. Walking into the kitchen, he found Uncle Vernon standing there glaring at him, holding out a large parchment envelope that Harry could just make out the Ministry of Magic emblem on — Ministry owls were apparently still as incapable of delivering their letters to their intended recipients as they had been three years earlier when the Ministry owl had dropped Harry's warning letter on top of muggle Mrs Mason's head in the dining room, instead of dropping it in the kitchen where Harry was mopping up the mess Dobby had made with the pudding. And this owl had apparently thought it best to drop the letter off in the kitchen with the three muggles of the household, instead of pecking on the window of Harry's bedroom where he actually was to deliver it to him directly.
Harry quickly tore open the envelope to read the short missive. How an owl had gotten there so quick from the Ministry Harry didn't have a clue, and he didn't really care — if Mrs Figg was right, this was not going to be the Ministry finally apologizing for refusing to believe the truth that Voldemort was back.
Finishing reading the expulsion and court summons, Harry thought hard.
Thanks to Hermione, he knew the Daily Prophet, which was nothing more than the propaganda department of the Ministry by that point, was running a censorship campaign to discredit Dumbledore and himself, and make everyone think they were crazy or power hungry for saying that Voldemort had returned. And barely over a month earlier after the third task, the head of the Ministry, the Minister himself, had threatened trying to take over Hogwarts. Now here he was being expelled by the Ministry after defending his life because he was attacked by the creatures the Ministry had guarding the wizarding prison they ran. Not to mention the fact they were trying to snap his wand before the hearing he would presumably have the opportunity to defend his actions at, though now he was seriously doubting he would be given any chance to do any such thing.
All in all, it seemed incredibly suspect.
The only thing he knew for sure, though, was that he had to leave there, and in a hurry. His wand was his means of self-defense, and had been his most important tool in saving his life numerous times since he'd bought it from Ollivander five years earlier — not to mention the fact that, according to Dumbledore, it had been his very specific wand and its shared core that had enabled him to even have the opportunity to overpower Voldemort in their duel in the graveyard, so it wasn't like he could just buy a new wand after he was cleared by the Ministry of all wrongdoing at the disciplinary hearing and it be just as good — plus wand chooses the wizard and all that. So he had to protect his wand at all cost, even if that meant using his wand to protect it. He'd defeated Voldemort one-on-one — he certainly wasn't losing his wand to the Ministry for not doing anything wrong.
But that would be easier to do, and more likely that it wouldn't be necessary to do, if he could get away from there to somewhere that the Ministry would have a much harder time of finding him before this could all be sorted out by Dumbledore or one of the other adults constantly insisting they had his best interests in mind.
Fortunately, as he stared around the kitchen trying to think of both where to go and how to get there, he remembered something — he not only had a place of his own to go to now, he had several places, and presumably a way to get there. Now if he could just figure out how to contact one of his house elves he'd never met and didn't know the names of.
"House elf? Can you hear me? How does this work? There has to be some way to call you, like sticking your wand hand in the air to get the Knight Bus," he shouted out into the air, causing the three Dursleys in the room to stare at him like he had completely lost his mind.
But a second later there was a loud crack and a house elf appeared in the middle of the kitchen.
With a bow it said, "Lord Potter, sir! Minkey at your service!"
The Dursleys stared at the strange creature gape-mouthed.
"Hi, Minkey," Harry said, ignoring them. "Forgive my ignorance, but you are?"
"Head of security for Potter Estate," replied the elf. "Normally stationed out of Potter Manor."
"So you're one of my house elves Griphook told me I had?" asked Harry.
"Yes, Lord Potter," replied Minkey with another bow.
"Can you take me to one of my houses, then?" asked Harry. "I can't stay here — the Ministry is coming."
"Of course, Lord Potter, Sir. Just grab my hand and we'll be there immediately," answered Minkey, like a good house elf never questioning why his Master needed to escape the Ministry.
"Uh...any chance you have any magic to pack my trunk in a hurry as well?" asked Harry hesitantly. "I don't mean to offend you if that's not part of your job."
But the house elf merely snapped his fingers twice, and Harry's trunk appeared next to them, fully packed Harry presumed. Grabbing the handle with one hand, he grabbed Minkey's hand with the other, and the next second he was pulled into darkness, reappearing a few seconds later in a dark and shadowy, but elaborate from what he could tell, completely marble entrance hall.
Meanwhile, back in the Dursley's kitchen, where the Dursleys were staring in open-mouthed shock at the spot Harry, the horrible creature, and Harry's trunk had just been standing, an owl collided with the kitchen window with the second loud crack they'd heard in just a few seconds. They continued staring at the spot Harry had disappeared from for several seconds, expecting the second crack to be him reappearing, before finally realizing that that wasn't it.
Looking around, they just spotted the owl shaking its feathers outside the window before it took off again — its recipient had just disappeared from the location and showed back up a long flight away, in the English countryside.
"What the bloody hell?!" exclaimed Uncle Vernon, but no one in the kitchen had any answers.
Chapter 35
A few hundred miles away at Potter Manor, Harry was staring around at the entrance hall they'd landed in.
Just a few seconds after appearing, the lights had all sprung to life, though whether by some magic of the house detecting that someone had arrived, or the invisible work of house elves, he didn't know. Like he'd thought before the lights came on, the entire hall was built out of marble, and was very extravagant, like something he expected Draco lived in.
But his surveying was cut short by Minkey saying, "Welcome home, Lord Potter, to Potter Manor. The second largest of the manors in the Potter Estate behind Peverell Manor, and where your father grew up."
Harry looked down at his house elf, and said, "Thank you. For bringing me here, and everything." After a second, he had a thought and asked, "Can I perform magic here?"
"Unfortunately we cannot ward against the Trace, and as there are no adults here, you cannot perform magic here without the Ministry detecting it with the Trace. They cannot make it onto the property without a long fight against the wards and magic of the manor, but they would know you performed magic and that you are now here," answered Minkey.
"Okay, thanks," replied Harry. "Now, uh, where might the bedrooms be?"
Minkey pointed off down a long hallway, and Harry drug his trunk off with him to find somewhere to sleep.
After finding a bedroom he liked, he found one of the house elves walking by in the hallway outside, and asked, "Can you bring me a quill and some parchment, and also can you deliver a letter to someone?"
"Right away, Sir!" squeaked the house elf. "And I can deliver to whoever you like, Sir!"
Then she disappeared with a loud crack before Harry had a chance to thank her. But she reappeared only a few seconds later, and so he thanked her then, before she told him just to call her when he was ready to send the letter, and disappeared with another crack. Harry picked up the quill, and began writing.
~.~
Hermione,
First off I'm completely safe, but I was attacked by two dementors near my relatives' house earlier this evening. I fended them off easily enough, and then found out my crazy old cat-lady neighbor is actually a squib, and someone named Mundungus Fletcher was supposed to be following me but left looking for cauldrons, leaving me alone to fight the dementors.
Once I got back to my relatives' house, I got a Ministry letter saying I'd been expelled from Hogwarts and they were coming to destroy my wand. So I knew I had to make a run for it. Fortunately I remembered I have houses, and house elves, and figured out how to call one. He came and apparated me and my things to Potter Manor, where I currently am. That was all at about nine-thirty this evening, and I haven't heard anything in the ten minutes or so since I arrived at Potter Manor.
My house elf said the Ministry can't make it onto this property without a serious fight against the wards and such, which presumably would also mean the same for any Death Eaters if they discovered I'm here, and there's apparently house elf security here as well, as the elf that rescued me is the head of security. So point being, I'm pretty sure I'm safe from everyone at the moment.
But I just wanted to let you know what had happened, I know Mundungus was supposed to be going to report what had happened to Dumbledore, but I don't know if you'll hear anything about this from them, and even if you do, they won't know where I am and that I'm safe, and so won't be able to tell you that I am. But I am safe, both from the dementor attack and the Ministry, so you don't have to worry.
Love you and miss you,
Harry Potter
~.~
Finishing up his letter and quickly reading back over it, he rolled it up and sealed it, before calling for the house elf.
"Please deliver this to Hermione Granger, and please deliver it when she's alone and no one else will know about it. It is fairly urgent, but secrecy is most important. And give her a chance to write something back if she likes."
"Of course, Sir! I'll deliver it right away to her alone!" squeaked the house elf, before disappearing again with the normal loud crack.
After that, Harry got ready for bed, wondering if and hoping that Hermione would be able to reply before he actually went to sleep.
~HP~
At Grimmauld Place, Hermione was reading alone in the library when there was a loud crack, and a house elf not named Kreacher was standing in front of her.
"Letter from Lord Potter, to be delivered to Missy Hermione alone," squeaked the house elf. "And I'm to wait to allow you to write a reply should you so desire."
Hermione looked at the house elf in surprise for a second, before reaching out and taking the letter, and giving the house elf a small, "Thank you."
Hermione's eyebrows nearly shot into her bushy hair at the news that Harry had had to fight off two dementors, and resolutely remained there for the rest of the letter.
Rereading the letter once she'd finished, Hermione mumbled to herself, "So that's why Dumbledore was so furious with Mundungus when he arrived a little bit ago. I did wonder what that was all about." She then looked over at the house elf and said, "Give me two minutes, and I'll have a reply for you to take back to Harry."
Pulling out a blank piece of parchment, she began writing. Once she'd finished, she sealed it up and handed it over to the house elf.
"Thank you for doing this," she said. "Also, if I may ask, how can you come here? We were told you had to be told the location by the secret keeper, and I'm assuming Dumbledore never told you."
"I'm a house elf, ma'am — wizard Fidelius charms don't affect us," answered the house elf. "Tell us a location, or give us a person, and we can go there regardless of wards and enchantments — same as owls can delivering mail."
"And like you can apparate inside Hogwarts," nodded Hermione in understanding — house elf magic clearly wasn't like wizarding magic.
"Yes ma'am! Exactly, ma'am!" replied the house elf excitedly, clearly happy to meet a witch who understood the magic of house elves.
"Well, I'm really glad you can," said Hermione. "The adults here don't think we're old enough to tell us anything, and also won't let us send hardly any letters out because they think the owls will be captured, so I don't know if I'd have ever found this out from them."
"Missy Hermione is welcome to call a Potter house elf to deliver a letter to Lord Potter any time she likes," said the house elf. "Just say, 'Potter house elves, I need to send a letter to Lord Potter' — or just Potter or Harry instead of Lord Potter," she added onto the end quickly.
"Thank you! I really, really appreciate that," answered Hermione brightly. "I was wondering if I was going to have to wait for him to send me something through one of you to send him anything back. But that's so much better!"
Once the house elf had disapparated away, Hermione looked over at the clock and realized how late it was, and headed up to her room wondering if the adults were going to consider her and the school-aged Weasleys there old enough to ever hear about Harry defending his life from two dementors.
And they refuse to tell us anything that's going on, so why should I tell them anything I know about his change in location? she thought to herself as she climbed into bed a few minutes later, after the thought had popped into her mind while she was brushing her teeth that maybe she should tell someone that Harry had moved to his house. If he's at his real home, surround by his house elves, he should be and sounds safe enough, so not telling them won't put him in any harm. And maybe I can make a trade of information sometime with it — Harry's location for what the Order's doing in the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
With that hopeful thought in her mind, and knowing that Harry was finally away from his abusive relatives and with house elves who seemed to like him, and would at least help him, she quickly fell asleep happier than she'd been since she had been taken away from her parents' home and brought to Grimmauld Place.
~HP~
At about the same time, in Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, the Dursley's were sitting in their kitchen.
It had been half an hour since Harry had disappeared with the vile creature he'd summoned probably from hell, and since the second owl that had come to their strictly muggle house that night had crashed into the window before immediately turning around and flying off again without deliver its letter, when another owl swooped into the Dursleys' kitchen, dropping a red envelope on Aunt Petunia's head before flying out the chimney. The three of them stared at it for a second, before Aunt Petunia slowly stooped down and picked it up off the kitchen floor.
"It's addressed to me. It's addressed to me, Vernon, look!" she said in a shaky voice. "Mrs Petunia Dursley, The Kitchen, Number Four, Privet Drive —"
But she suddenly cut off, horrified, as the envelope began to smoke. She instinctively dropped it on the floor, looking around wildly for an escape. But before she could actually move, the envelope burst into flame, and an awful, echoing voice boomed from the now burning letter.
"Remember my last, Petunia."
Aunt Petunia practically fainted into the kitchen chair next to her, as Uncle Vernon and Dudley both stared at her in shock, and the letter smoldered into ashes unnoticed where it lay on the floor.
Finally, Uncle Vernon stuttered out, "What — What is this? I don't — Petunia?"
"It means we're all in trouble," replied Aunt Petunia in a tiny voice.
"What do you mean?" asked Uncle Vernon, terrified sounding. That letter had obviously come from wizards, and now his wife, who did have some understanding of the wizarding world they tried so hard to pretend didn't exist, was saying they were in trouble.
"By taking Harry in fourteen years ago, I made a promise to give Harry a home, and therefore protect him. And now he's gone — Dumbledore will blame me if anything happens to Harry," whispered Aunt Petunia, like she was about to burst out in tears and trying to hold it in. "We should have tried to make him stay. It's our fault if something happens to him —"
Bewildered, Uncle Vernon just stared at her for a while longer, before finally saying gruffly, "There's nothing we could have done. He just disappeared, with that strange creature he called for, and there was absolutely nothing we could have done. And if his kindare so keen on keeping him safe, why not do it themselves instead of sticking him with us? And what the bloody hell did happen tonight, anyway?!"
But Aunt Petunia didn't respond to any of this, not knowing how to and not in any state to try explaining to her husband why Harry was with them instead of in her sister's world, and knowing no more about what had happened to cause all of this than her husband did.
Eventually, as no more owls swooped into their pristine and thoroughly muggle kitchen, they eventually got up and went to bed, hoping that now that Harry was out of their house, they at the very least wouldn't have to deal with him or any more wizards until the next summer, or ever again if they were particularly lucky.
~HP~
Aunt Petunia wasn't the only person receiving a late-night letter that night.
The house elf who'd delivered Harry's letter to Hermione popped back to Potter Manor, quickly scampering off to find her master and give him the letter Hermione had written in reply. A light knock on his bedroom door proved he was still awake as he bid her entrance, where she quickly handed him the letter before promptly cracking out of existence, so he could read it alone — which he immediately did.
~.~
Harry,
I can't believe it! I'm so happy you're safe and have a new home, though!
And thank you so much for telling me, the adults haven't whispered a peep about it to us, or at least me, no doubt Mrs Weasley claiming yet again that we're 'too young' to hear anything so horrific as the fact you were attacked by two dementors and successfully defended your life against them, and probably saved the lives of several other people in the neighborhood as well, as dementors aren't best known for only kissing one person when they aren't being expressly ordered by the Ministry to only kiss a single prisoner.
I did see Mundungus arrive, and Dumbledore went into a towering rage, it was quite scary honestly, but Mrs Weasley had already exiled us all out of earshot of the kitchen early in the evening for another one of their meetings, so I couldn't hear anything that was actually said in the kitchens between Mundungus and Dumbledore. I only saw Mundungus arrive looking harried, then loud, angry yelling emanating from inside the kitchen, and finally Dumbledore storm out through the hall looking rather terrifying. And then haven't seen a single adult in the twenty minutes or so since then, but they certainly didn't immediately come tell us, your friends who care deeply about you (plus Ron and Ginny), that anything bad had happened to you.
Whenever you get a chance, I want to hear all about your house, and anything else. And since I can now deliver letters though your house elves without having them be read by the adults, I can write a full accounts of everything that happens here, though tomorrow morning when it's not so late and I have time.
But once again, I'm really happy you're alive and safe, hope you're having a much better summer now, and talk to you again soon.
Love, Your girlfriend,
Hermione
~.~
Smiling as he set the letter down on his bedside table after finishing reading it, Harry settled back into bed the happiest he'd been in the long weeks since Hermione had written to tell him that she wouldn't be able to visit him any more and had no clue how long it would be before he would be brought to her.
A few hours later, Harry was awoken by a sharp tapping against the door of his bedroom and the polite cough of the house elf doing the knocking.
"Come in," mumbled Harry sleepily, as he reached out to find his glasses and put them on.
As soon as the house elf entered the room the lamps lit dimly, and the elf quickly trotted over to the side of the bed.
With a bow, he said, "Dibby, Sir. And this letter just arrived for Master — the owl was very urgent that it be delivered to you immediately, that he was already several hours late delivering it due to your sudden move."
He held out a small roll of parchment, which Harry took and opened.
~.~
Harry —
Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.
Arthur Weasley
~.~
Well, half of that's out the window already, thought Harry to himself as he read it. But at least Dumbledore is, or was I suppose by this point, doing something about it. And they agree not to give up my wand, so that's good.
But before he could think any more on this letter, Dibby came rushing back in with two more letters.
"These just arrived as well, Sir! A Ministry owl and another owl saying he's several hours late from what his sender intended — the Ministry owl is too pompous to talk to a house elf like Dibby, Sir, but I would imagine he also is late delivering."
"Thank you, Dibby," replied Harry, taking the two new letters from his house elf.
He opened the Ministry letter first, finding that Dumbledore had apparently succeeded in talking to the Ministry, and they were no longer after his wand, or at least not until the trial in ten days. The second letter was from Sirius, and simply told him that Arthur had told him what had happened and not to leave the Dursleys' — so even less than what Arthur's letter had said.
Grabbing a sheet of parchment, he quickly scribbled out a short letter to Hermione informing her about these three new letters, and called for Dibby to deliver it to Hermione's bedside table, for her to find in the morning when she woke up. Then he returned to sleep, wondering what fireworks were going to happen when Dumbledore, Arthur (and of course Mrs Weasley), Sirius, and any of the other adults found out that he was no longer at the Dursleys.
Chapter 36
Over the next several days, Harry and Hermione continued talking by house elf, finally able to freely share everything they wanted to without any adult interference.
Harry explored the house and grounds of Potter Manor, along with getting to know all the house elves he had there, who were keeping the house in much better shape than the house elf Hermione had told him belonged to Grimmauld Place did. While he certainly still missed getting to see Hermione every few days like he had before she'd been taken to Grimmauld Place, Potter Manor was a much, much nicer place to be spending the summer compared to Number Four, Privet Drive, and he hoped he'd be able to return to Potter Manor the next summer instead of having to return to his abusive relatives. Then he remembered that he could just return with them from Kings Cross, and as soon as he stepped inside Number Four, he could just call one of his house elves, and they could take him to Potter Manor to spend the summer — and maybe even could apparate Hermione there at least every few days to visit, so long as the Weasleys didn't whisk her away anywhere as soon as term ended.
Hermione, meanwhile, continued to force using magic to clean Grimmauld Place, and so in the two and a half weeks since she'd first been taken there, they had nearly finished everything. All of the rooms, halls, and stairs had been cleaned of their collected grime, dirt, dust, and filth, making the entire house shine like it hadn't in at least a decade, though probably much longer considering it had been the Blacks who had been living in it before it had become abandoned. And with the twins help at perfecting the nifty little charm taught in sixth year, she and the twins had snuck around the house changing the colors of some of the darker curtains, rugs, and carpets to brighter, more friendly colors, brightening up the house even more. Additionally, now that all of the rooms had physically been cleaned and the easiest of the dark artifacts and junk removed, they had gone back through all of the rooms to remove the more dangerous, but incapable of attacking on their own objects and giving them to Tonks to turn in to the aurors office to be disenchanted or destroyed. They still had a handful more rooms to go through for that, but all in all they were nearly done with the entire house. Her only question now was, what would Mrs Weasley try to force them to do once they were done cleaning the house to prevent them from having free time, now that her excuse of cleaning would be gone.
But in addition to talking to each other about what each of them was doing, Harry and Hermione also discussed Harry's upcoming trial for defending his life against the dementors, and the fact that despite their constant weekly libeling of him and Dumbledore, the Daily Prophet hadn't mentioned anything about Harry being charged with violations of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by performing magic in a muggle area.
Hermione's belief was that they were saving it up for when they successfully (in their delusions) illegally expelled him from Hogwarts and snapped his wand in half, because otherwise it would have gone along so well with the image of Harry as an attention-seeking show-off they were spreading. But as for the trial itself, Hermione assured Harry that as long as the Ministry obeyed its own laws that it had written (which was admittedly a pretty big 'if'at that point, given the fact they'd tried to expel him and snap his wand in half without any due process to start with), Harry would be found not guilty without a problem.
Clause Seven of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery stated that underage wizards could use magic in exceptional circumstances, including situations which threatened the life of the wizard himself, or anyone else present at the time of the exceptional circumstance, which cleared him of all 'underage use of magic' charges. Then, Clause Seven of the International Statute of Secrecy stated that magic could be performed in muggle areas and in front of muggles in exceptional circumstances, including situations which threatened the life of the wizard himself, or any witches, wizards or Muggles present at the time of the exceptional circumstance, clearing him of all 'magic performed in a muggle-inhabited area' charges.
So while Harry knew he was still a long way from actually being cleared, as long as he could force the laws of the land to be obeyed by the Ministry that wrote them, he would be cleared of all charges on the morning of the twelfth.
They were also both awaiting the day when the adults of Grimmauld Place informed at least Hermione (and probably Ron), if not all of the students there, that Harry was missing from his relatives' house, and that they had no clue where he was. But the entire week, they never did — or at least not to Hermione, and she was pretty sure they hadn't to any of the other students in Grimmauld Place either.
So until they did think it important enough to inform Harry's girlfriend that Harry was in fact missing, Hermione kept both the fact she knew exactly where he was, along with the fact she even knew he wasn't at his relatives' house to begin with, all to herself. She knew from her daily correspondence with Harry that he still seemed to be perfectly safe, and much happier than he ever was at the Dursleys, and happier than she figured he probably would be if he was there at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, stuck inside all the time.
Now, in truth, the adults actually didn't have a clue that Harry wasn't at his family's house like they'd told him to stay, as none of them actually bothered to go check on him to make sure he was safe and okay after the dementor attack that had nearly cost him his life (or at least soul, as he would have technically still been alive after the dementors had kissed him), or even to see if he was obeying their orders. They just assumed that he had nowhere else to go, and no way to get there if he did (apparently forgetting all about the Knight Bus and the summer before his third year he spent living at the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley), and therefore would stay right where Dumbledore wanted him to, like the good little pet he was.
~HP~
But Friday, something finally occurred that Hermione knew she would have to make a decision about.
After lunch, as they finished up ridding the final room in the house of the last of the dark objects in it, Tonks drew her over to the closet of the room and whispered quietly, "We're going to get Harry tonight. They had me drop a muggle letter into the Dursleys' mailbox yesterday afternoon inviting them to the prize-giving of the All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition — which of course doesn't actually exist — so they'll be gone tonight when we go pick up Harry."
Hermione was on the verge of telling the other girl that Harry wasn't actually there, when she realized it meant none of the adults knewHarry wasn't still there, and therefore clearly hadn't gone to check on him after his attack. And she quickly decided that if they didn't even care enough about Harry to check up on him after he nearly died, they could bloody well waste their evening and panic a bit trying to gather Harry from somewhere he wasn't at. But she did have to decide whether she was going to be waiting on their return so she could scold them for not having made sure Harry was safe, or stay in the shadows and not say anything until they admitted to her that Harry was missing, and they were clueless.
But she had time to decide on that, so all she replied to Tonks was, "About damn time they finally did something — he was attacked four days ago."
Tonks merely nodded her agreement, before they both slipped back out into the room and began working again, neither of them saying anything more about it.