Summary: Vernon didn't take being threatened very well, at the end of Order of the
Phoenix. What happens when he goes too far is something no one could every have
expected.
Categories: Harry Potter > Harry/Hermione Characters: None
Important Notes: None
Genre: General, Romance
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 25 Completed: Yes Word count: 132245 Read: 28412 Published: February
05, 2009 Updated: February 05, 2009
Chapter 1 by Kinsfire
Family Matters - Chapter 1 /* /*]]>*/ /**/
Chapter I
The car ride home from King's Crossing was tense, to say the absolute minimum. Vernon was an odd shade, almost
flickering between his usual puce and a pasty white, neither of which was a good colour on the man. "Think they can
threaten me, do they?" was all Harry could hear, repeatedly.
When they returned to Number four Privet Drive, Harry learned something of what Uncle Vernon had decided. They
entered the house, where Vernon immediately took the cage that Hedwig resided in and headed toward his den.
"Where are you going with Hedwig?" Harry demanded.
"Don't take that tone with me, boy!" his uncle sneered in his face. "You need this owl to communicate with the
others. So, I'm keeping her with me until you go back to that foul school full of freaks. I'd stop you from going if I
could, but that's not a possibility, since they'll come to collect you in September. What you're going to do is write a
short note to them every other day, in front of me, and we'll send the owl out to deliver it. She'll come back and we'll
repeat it until the summer is over."
"What if I refuse?" Harry balked insolently.
"Makes no difference to me. I can snap the owl's neck right now, or wait until the summer is over. You do it my way,
or she dies. As simple as that."
"What if I send her off and tell her not to return?"
"Then I think you'll dislike the treatment I give you. There are things I can do to you, Harry, that won't show up in a
search." He grinned. "Don't think I won't, boy. Your wizards don't understand the simplest things about the real
world, and I guarantee that I can outsmart them."
"You wouldn't dare," Harry said, turning white.
"You willing to bet the life of your owl on that? I know you care for the beast."
Harry looked at his uncle, and then looked at his aunt and cousin. Indifference from her, and the desire to snap
Hedwig's neck himself from Dudley. "You win. I do it your way," Harry acquiesced.
"Of course I win, boy. That's why I do so well at sales. I always win, and I always will. It would do you well to
remember that."
Inside the house, he was given his first surprise. "Trunk in the cupboard, boy."
"But I need to study!" Vernon moved his hand to the door to Hedwig's cage. "Fine. In the cupboard. Will I be
sleeping in there as well?" he snarled.
Vernon's free hand came out and smashed against the side of Harry's head. "Don't you take that tone with me, boy!
Now that you mention it, though, that sounds like a good idea. Give Dudley his second room back."
Harry staggered at the force of the blow to his head. He opened the cupboard and placed his trunk inside, bending
down to find the best possible placement for his sleeping arrangements that night. Maybe I can get the bedroom back
if I watch the tone around him for a week or so.
---
He spent the week learning exactly what the Dursleys had in mind for him this summer. The threats to Vernon had
caused the exact opposite effect from what the Order members had expected. They had expected him to be cowed,
and to give Harry greater freedom; instead, they had set Vernon to calculating, and had returned Harry to his pre-
Hogwarts days.
At five AM his first day back, he was awakened by Vernon opening his door and dragging him out of bed. "You don't
have the time to be wasting around in bed, boy!" he roared in Harry's face. "Get downstairs and make the kitchen
ready for breakfast. I expect the food on the table at six AM!"
Harry staggered into the kitchen, where he was greeted with the sight of the dishes that Vernon had dirtied during the
night. The man liked his midnight snacks, which is why he was still a huge man. He had intentionally dirtied far more
plates than he usually did, and Harry immediately got the message. Luckily, he had practice with cleaning quickly, so
in roughly half an hour, he had the sink clear, and was in the process of preparing eggs and bacon when Vernon came
into the dining area. "Hmph," was all he grunted. Quickly, Harry finished the cooking and had the bacon and eggs on
the table, and turned to make toast when he felt Vernon's foot shoot out to trip him. He fell to the ground, the pan
making a loud clanging noise just before Harry's left hand came down in it. Before he could pull his hand out of the
still sizzling pan, Vernon was holding him down. "This is a taste of what I'm going to do to you, freak. You won't be
going back to that school this September, if I have my way. Once you're eighteen, you're gone, but until then, you're
mine." He finally let Harry up, and Harry looked at his hand. There were second degree burns on the palm of his
hand, and he was fairly certain that the fingertips had sustained third degree burns.
Knowing his uncle, however, he carefully picked up the pan and put it in the sink, one-handed. He scrubbed it as best
he could, placing it in the drain, and then carefully washed his burnt hand with Vernon watching. He was starting to
shiver slightly, but he turned and walked into the bathroom in order to finish dressing his wound.
"I'll have none of that, boy! No need wasting things on the likes of you. You can just wave that wand of yours …"
He smirked. "Oh, that's right, you can't, can you? You'll just have to deal with it, then, I suppose. Now get dressed,
get outside and mow the lawn!"
"The neighbours won't like you very much, Uncle Vernon, if I start too early. Even if you blame it on me, they'll
complain that you should have tighter rein on me."
"You dare talk back to me, boy?" Vernon roared. "Get out there!"
Harry pulled some clothes from the trunk and stepped into the water closet to dress. By six-thirty, the mower was
running, and he had been hit in the head at least once by an old boot rather expertly thrown. When the lawn was
done, he put the mower back in the shed, wiping the blood from his hand off the handle with his shirt. He stepped into
the house and was immediately shrieked at by Petunia. "What do you think you're doing, boy, dripping blood on my
nice clean floors? Go wash that off and then wash these floors again, since you dirtied them." She stalked off to the
living room, where she sat down to watch her television programmes.
Harry's attempts at cleaning the floor were hampered by the extreme pain he felt from accidentally getting chlorine
bleach on the open wound. After five years of dealing with Voldemort, he could handle this, but it was not an easy
thing. He grimaced and finished the job, and carefully cleaned the tools of the trade as well, wincing when he was
forced to wring the mop with his hands.
I can see where this is going to go. Imagine if I manage to make it back to Hogwarts alive with my hand in this
condition. Actually, thank God for the bleach! That should have cleaned the wound some. I may have to try to do that
on a daily basis. He limped over to his 'new' room, and climbed inside to hold his hand in pain for a time. His eyes
fell on something he had scrawled on the wall nearest the door half his lifetime ago:
H. Pottr's
Room
Age 8
He closed his mind, and tried to ignore the pain. He tried to focus on anything that might help him. His mind flitted
past his friends - Ron, his impetuous friend, constantly in arguments with Hermione. Hermione, his genius best friend,
her beautiful chestnut hair still as bushy as when he'd first met her. He could see her studying something in the
Common Room, one strand of hair out of place, hanging down in front of her face. He always wanted to walk over
and brush it back behind her ear, but that would be too forward, so he simply watched her as she studied. I can never
admit it, but she's the reason I never do well on my essays - I'm always looking at her. How do I tell her that she's
beautiful? That somewhere in the last five years, I fell in love with her? Assuming, of course, I even know what love
is.
He fell asleep in the cupboard with a smile on his face, unbeknownst to him.
---
That set the tone for the days with the Dursleys. He was given no chance for his hand to heal - the wound was
constantly cracking and bleeding. He knew it was going to be hard for him to even use this hand at Hogwarts. Oh,
won't Snape enjoy that! He'll find reasons for me to use my left hand in class, and then deduct points when I can't
work properly with it.
His second day there, he was forced to sit down and write a message for the Order members. Nothing fancy was
permitted, just a simple, "Everything is going well here. More in two or three days. Harry." He then heard Vernon
talking to Hedwig.
"Owl, I want to see you back as soon as possible. If you don't come back as soon as you can, I promise you that I will
kill the boy. I've wanted to for years, and you'll give me an excuse. Drop the message and return. What will those
freaks do then, if I take out their precious little freak?" He released Hedwig, who flew into the sky.
It was the same for two weeks. Variations on the previous message, all sent by Hedwig, and no one from the Order
dropping by to check on him.
It hit him exactly what he was thinking about the Order one day when he was in the water closet scrubbing the floor
grout with a toothbrush. His own, of course. His mind went to the Order of the Phoenix. I'm supposed to be such a
wonderful commodity to these people. Well, fuck them! They can't even be bothered to try a physical check-in with me
-
they'd rather trust these stupid notes. He heard a low chuckle and looked up in time to be knocked out by Dudley
swinging his mother's cast iron frying pan at his head.
He didn't wake up until the next afternoon, when he was punished with a vicious belt beating from Vernon for not
finishing his work, and sleeping on the job.
---
It was in the beginning of July that he finally took his chance. The Dursleys had decided to go somewhere for
Dudley's birthday, which hadn't actually arrived yet, but the concert he wanted to see was not going to be in town his
birthday weekend. So, they took him to see the band he wanted to see, and locked Harry in the cupboard for the
duration.
Harry waited for a full hour before he decided on his course of action. He pressed against the wall of the cupboard
and kicked as hard as he could against the door. The door hinges cracked and bulged away from the wall, so he
kicked again. The door exploded open and dangled from its padlock.
He climbed out, dragging his trunk and depositing it in the foyer. He stalked over to Vernon's den, and kicked the
door open, again near the hinges. This time it fell in quite satisfyingly. He saw a very startled Hedwig in the room,
who began hooting happily when she realized what had happened. "Okay girl, I'm going to free you. Fly to Hermione
and stay with her." Hedwig hopped out of her cage and held out a leg. "Oh, right." He quickly scribbled a note.
Hermione,
On run from Dursleys. Wondrous idea Order had backfired. Do not tell Order anything other than that I am no longer
at Dursleys.
In fact, I'm not telling you where I'm going so that Dumbledore and Snape can't mind-rape you into giving them the
information, since they'd insist I come back here and live in the cupboard again.
Fuck them all! Let Tommy kill all the damned wizards! If this is the kind of treatment the good guys give their
saviour, I'd be tempted to join up with Tom.
I won't, though, because it would disappoint YOU, and I've done that too many times. I will fight Voldemort for
YOU, Hermione, because you've always been there for me. Not for Dumbledore, or MacGonagall, or even the
Weasleys. For you and your parents, and all the other Muggle families out there who get caught in the middle of this
shit.
I hope to see you back at Hogwarts, if I survive that long.
Harry
P.S. - Please take care of Hedwig for me.
He tied the letter to Hedwig and said, "Stay with her, girl. That way you'll be safe." She nipped his finger
affectionately and flew off.
He grabbed Vernon's heavy luggage carrier (the wheeled one) and put his trunk on it. He grabbed some food as well,
and then took a good long look at the house. It may be childish, but I'm going to make a point to them as I leave. He
very carefully walked around the house and destroyed a good many of their prized possessions. He utterly trashed the
bedroom that Vernon and Petunia used, and he took great joy in smashing everything of value in Dudley's room.
Downstairs he simply tipped over the hutch with all Petunia's fine china, which included some of Vernon's mother's
irreplaceable china. He destroyed what sat on the mantel, and then walked out the front door, carefully leaving the
door slightly ajar. He walked down the street, whistling.
He hadn't gotten very far when he heard someone come up behind him. "Wotcher, Harry! Where you going?"
"Arabella Figg's. Care to escort me there?"
"Why you goin' there? Where to from there?"
"Anywhere not Little Whinging. I am not returning to this town in my lifetime, if I can manage that." He picked up
the pace to a point where Tonks was forced to run to catch up to him.
They were right outside Mrs. Figg's door when Tonks caught up. "Come in, you two!" came the surprised invitation
from Mrs. Figg. "Bit early for you to be leaving the Dursley house, isn't it?"
"I thought I'd get out while my owl and I were still alive. Hedwig is going to Hermione. I'm going elsewhere."
"What about the protections?" Tonks asked.
"What about them? Who the fuck are they protecting? Certainly not me!" he screamed.
Tonks responded icily, "I don't appreciate being spoken to in that tone, with that language, Harry. Now stop acting like
a child, and explain."
He looked back at her, and saw her take a step back in surprise at the look on his face. In his own icy tone, he said,
"You find me an Order member I can trust, and I'll talk to them. They'll need to be able to give me a reason to trust
them, of course."
He looked at her quickly, a question suddenly striking him. "Who gets the notes that I sent out to the Order to give
them my updates?"
"It varies. Could be Dung, could be me, could be Snape. Depends on who's closest."
"And none of you talk to each other."
"Yeah we do. We were getting regular notes from you, so we didn't worry."
"I can't believe that Aurors could be so fucking STUPID!" he bellowed. "Anyone ever think to actually, oh, maybe
look in physically on your charge?" He peeled his shirt up. The bruises from Vernon's belt were still quite evident,
especially where the buckle had scored his flesh. "Tell me while I should trust the Order with even my laundry list."
He held out his left hand.
He grabbed a handful of Floo powder in his right hand and tossed it in the fireplace. "Gryffindor Common Room!"
As the flames shot up, he stepped through.
Back to index
Chapter 2 by Kinsfire
Chapter 2
Chapter II
Harry quickly stepped to the side and grabbed the nearest heavy object. As the flames flared again, he brought
it down hard, striking Tonks hard enough to knock her out. He quickly checked to make sure he hadn't killed her, and
ran his things up to his usual dormitory. He grabbed his cloak and his map and ran for the portrait. He told the Fat
Lady to get Madame Pomfrey to the Common Room as fast as she could.
He, on the other hand, ran for the statue of the humpbacked witch and headed into Hogsmeade. In the tunnel,
just before Honeyduke's, he put the cloak on and then exited. Quickly making it to the Shrieking Shack, he was
amused to discover that his suspicions were right – this had been used by members of the Order. I don't like it, but it's
the only place I can go right now. He tossed the Floo powder into the fireplace and headed for Diagon Alley.
Once there, he headed straight for Gringott's, where he withdrew roughly three thousand Galleons. Back up
front, he exchanged half of it for Muggle money, and headed out the door. A few minutes later he was on the streets
of Muggle London and searching for a telephone.
It was when he found one that he realized that he didn't know the telephone number he wanted to call.
Mentally crossing his fingers, he called directory assistance. "I need the number for a dentist office. I don't know the
city, but the name is Granger." A moment later, he had the number and was dialling it.
"Doctors Granger dentists, may I help you?" came a pretty voice on the line.
"I hope so. I need to speak with one of the doctors. I'm a friend of their daughter. The name is Harry Potter."
"Just a moment." He heard the ubiquitous hold music for about a minute, and then a voice came on the line.
"Harry?" The voice was female, and sounded a lot like Hermione, but was also obviously more mature.
"Helen Granger. What's happened?"
"Can't really talk, since I don't know who's looking for me. I just wanted you not to worry, since Hermione
will be receiving an … a letter from me in my usual manner, any time now. It's probably going to scare the hell out of
her. I wanted to let you know that I'm all right, so that you can reassure her."
"Good god, what happened, Harry?" the woman breathed into the phone. "Hmm, I think your letter just
arrived. Hermione's on the other line, frantic. Hang on …." A click or two happened, and then he could hear
Hermione's breathing. "Hermione?"
"Mum? We have to figure something out to help Harry! He's in trouble, he's bleeding, and …"
"… and he's on the phone at the moment," Harry said with a smile. "I'm fine, Hermione. I just wanted to get
Hedwig to you while she was still alive, and I knew that if she showed up with no note, you'd worry even more than
from the note that I sent."
"Where are you?" she asked frantically. "Why is there a bloody hand print on that note?"
"Can't say. The Order may be hunting me as we speak. I swear to you, Hermione – I am not going back to the
Dursleys ever again."
"Any hints you can give us, son?" Helen Granger asked.
"Well, I'm two blocks west and two blocks south of the street I do my shopping on, but you'd turn the city
upside down trying to find me, probably." He carefully stressed the words upside down, hoping that one of them was
clever enough to figure it out. What am I saying? This is Hermione we're talking about.
"Got it," Helen said. "We're leaving the office almost immediately. Caught us just before we left for the
holiday with Hermione. Tell you what. We'll drive over and pick you up and figure out where to go from there,
okay? It should take us half an hour, but if we have to turn the city upside down," she said, carefully stressing the
same words, "it should be double that." She carefully stressed the word double. "You understand me?"
Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Yes, yes I do. Thanks. I'll stay in plain view out here, since the only
ones I have to worry about working in broad daylight are the Riddle gang." He heard a sharp intake of breath from
Hermione. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'll be okay."
"We'll see you in a while, Harry," Helen Granger said. "Hang tight."
Harry hung up the phone and looked for somewhere to stand. He almost fainted with happiness when a
minivan pulled up in front of him almost exactly fifteen minutes later. "Harry?" said a woman leaning out the
window.
Harry was startled. He'd seen Hermione's parents before, but had never looked at them. He was staring at
Hermione's older sister, for all he knew. "Mrs. Granger? Right on time."
"Come on over, Harry. Let's get you out of here." He was in the vehicle in record time. As they started to
drive off, he looked behind the vehicle. "No one I could see while I was there waiting. With luck, they assumed that I
was speaking the truth, so they're looking at a place about eight blocks away for me. I'm just glad that you understood
what I was saying. May have been a stupid code, but it worked."
"It wasn't stupid – it was thinking on your feet. Literally." She turned around and saw that Harry was blinking
tiredly. "You lay down on the seat in the back, and we'll wake you when we get to the house."
He was asleep in moments.
---
He awoke as the vehicle slowed down and made a sharp turn into a dark area, and he heard a motor grinding.
He also heard Hermione come running out to the minivan, and with a grin that would have warned the Weasley twins
what he was thinking, he slid the invisibility cloak over himself.
"Mum! Did you find him? Is he okay?" she was asking, the worry evident in her voice.
Wow, she sounds scared! I didn't mean to worry her that much. I'd better not prank her, then. He sat up and
pulled the cloak off, and grinned at her. She squealed, opened the door and yanked him out of the vehicle, trying to
pull him into a hug. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't prepared for this, so he ended up tripping and forcing her to the
floor, where he ended up laying on top of her.
He blinked in surprise at the sudden removal from the vehicle, and then at the surprise of where he was. He
became suddenly embarrassed, since for the first time, all her pleasantly soft spots that he was currently pressing
against reminded him that his school chum was a woman, not merely a girl, and he started to react to that. He rolled
off her quickly, blushing furiously, and got to his feet. He held out his hand to help her to her to her feet.
She pulled him into a tight hug, reminding him again how pleasantly curvy she was. She's my best friend.
Don't ruin that by finally admitting that you'd really like to … no! He returned the hug, fighting the urge to kiss her
and enjoying the smell of her hair. "Hmm, lavender," he murmured.
She stiffened and ended the hug. As the hug broke, she looked vaguely hurt. "Let's get inside."
He blinked at her for a moment. "Okay, but please explain to me when we're in there what stupid thing I did
this time. I'm always hurting your feelings, and you don't do that to your friends."
They got inside. "Why'd you call me Lavender?" she asked as she led him to the couch.
He looked at her for a moment, trying to think what she was talking about. "Oh!" he said suddenly. "I was
talking about the smell of your hair! I wasn't calling you Lavender; I was mentioning the smell that your shampoo left
behind. There's lavender oils in it."
She blushed. "I'm sorry, Harry. You have a horrible summer, and the only thing I can do when I first see you
is misunderstand you."
"I think I can understand your reaction, though. Here I am holding a pretty girl, and the only thing you hear
me say is something that sounds like another girl's name. Understandable misunderstanding. I'm just glad that's all it
was. I've done too much before to hurt you before, and I'm going to make an effort to stop that. You don't hurt your
best friend if you can avoid it." He shuddered as the image of her falling at the Department of Mysteries flashed
through his mind.
"Harry, I'm okay. I'm down to one potion a day for the next two days, and then I'm done. I'm alive, and I'm
here."
"No thanks to Captain Oblivious," he grumbled at himself.
"Harry, you were doing what you thought was the right thing."
"Yes, ignoring the advice of my far more intelligent best friend, which led to me leading five other friends and
a number of other people into a trap that killed someone who had gotten out of prison to save my life. Hell of a way to
repay him, huh?" He leaned forward on the couch and started to cry.
---
Hermione was terribly glad that Harry was okay. Her heart had soared when Hedwig had finally shown up for
the first time in three weeks, but when she read that note, she was terrified for him. I've got to find some way to help
him! Mum and Dad! They've got to be able to come up with some ideas!
As she rang her parents' office, she thought about everything. I have to figure out how to tell him this summer,
if I can. Nothing worked right last year. Mum and Dad have given me their support, but now I just have to figure out
how to tell him that I love him.
The telephone call had made her feel much better, knowing he was okay, but now she was worried about
getting him to the house.
Oh God, we're going to have the boy I want as my boyfriend at my house, possibly all summer. I have got to
tell him, if only so he doesn't get too surprised if I jump him this summer. She giggled to herself. What am I going to
do with him around me all summer, with no one but my parents around. Stop that! she admonished herself as she felt
her heart speed up slightly, and she knew that her knickers were damp. There's more to life than that!
Yeah, but it's Harry! a voice inside her said. You've wanted to jump him since the end of fourth year!
Shush, you, she said firmly. We'll have to get him used to our attitudes about skin and sex in this household
first, remember. Poor boy might explode if I don't warn him. She giggled briefly. I'll bet he wouldn't complain about
the view, though. How many girls has he seen nude? I'm betting I'll be his first.
She tried to read as she waited for her parents, and heard the garage door open finally. She ran down the
hallway, loving the way her heart soared realizing that she'd see Harry in just a second or two, even loving the
butterflies in her stomach. Wait, he's not in the van! "Mum! Did you find him? Is he okay?"
A moment or two later, she could see him appearing from underneath his cloak. She squealed and opened the
door. Did I just squeal like a little girl? She pulled on him to get him out of the vehicle, but he overbalanced, and
suddenly was pressing her to the floor of the garage. The silence was awkward for a moment, while she warred with
herself whether or not to throw her arms around him and snog him senseless. She finally decided not to. Oh my! Did
he just start to notice me as a girl? That certainly felt like a … stiffening of his resolve, she giggled to herself.
He rolled off and helped her to her feet, so she pulled him into a tight hug. She could feel him quivering ever
so slightly, and she could hear him breathing in the scent of her hair. He likes the way my hair smells!
"Hmm, Lavender," he murmured into her hair, and she stiffened. Here I am holding him, and he thinks of
Lavender Brown?
What do you expect? You're no great beauty. Let's just go into the house.
"Let's get inside," she said, and headed inside.
"Okay, but please explain to me when we're in there what stupid thing I did this time. I'm always hurting your
feelings, and you don't do that to your friends," he said to her, which almost made her stop in her tracks. He doesn't
know what he did? That's cold! Wait, this is Harry. What experience does he have with girls? He might have just
vocalized that my hair made him think of her, and not meant anything by it. Just ask him.
As they reached the couch, she asked, "Why'd you call me Lavender?"
He looked terribly confused as he pondered her question, but suddenly comprehension struck. "Oh! I was
talking about the smell of your hair! I wasn't calling you Lavender; I was mentioning the smell that your shampoo left
behind. There's lavender oils in it."
She blinked back tears, hoping he wouldn't notice them. She also felt her face grow hot. "I'm sorry, Harry.
You have a horrible summer, and the only thing I can do when I first see you is misunderstand you."
He shrugged. "I think I can understand your reaction, though. Here I am holding a pretty girl, and the only
thing you hear me say is something that sounds like another girl's name. Understandable misunderstanding. I'm just
glad that's all it was. I've done too much before to hurt you before, and I'm going to make an effort to stop that. You
don't hurt your best friend if you can avoid it."
Oh, he called me pretty! He thinks I'm attractive!
She knew what he needed, though. She smiled at him and said, "Harry, I'm okay. I'm down to one potion a
day for the next two days, and then I'm done. I'm alive, and I'm here." She was tempted to show him that she had no
lasting scars, but then remembered that, above the waist, she was the only thing under this sun-dress. She didn't think
he could quite handle that yet.
"No thanks to Captain Oblivious," he grumbled. He looked as if he wanted to punch someone. His words said
that the person he wanted to punch was himself.
"Harry, you were doing what you thought was the right thing." She put her hand on his knee.
"Yes, ignoring the advice of my far more intelligent best friend, which led to me leading five other friends and
a number of other people into a trap that killed someone who had gotten out of prison to save my life. Hell of a way to
repay him, huh?" He took in a shuddering breath and leaned forward on the couch. He started to cry, and the heels of
his hands came up to press against his eyes, as if that might stop his tears.
It was as his hands rose that Hermione caught sight of the hand that had left the bloody print. "Oh my God!
What happened to you? Who did that?"
"Vernon tripped me my first full day back. My hand landed in a still hot frying pan. He held me there and
refused to let me do anything for it. I've had bleach in it every day just to do my best to keep it clean."
"Oh my God," she breathed. "How could you stand the pain?"
She noticed that he actually blushed for a moment after she had asked that question, but filed that in the back
of her mind as he said, "If I can handle Voldemort, then I can deal with this."
"Who did this?" Hermione's father had come into the house and caught sight of the offending hand.
"My zoo keepers," Harry said quietly. "The Order's attempt to scare Vernon into treating me better had exactly
the opposite effect." He paused. "Would it be possible to go to St. Mungo's and get this dealt with, please? As much
as thinking about … thinking about certain things keeps the pain away, it does hurt." This time Hermione caught his
eyes flickering to her during his pause.
Helen Granger had a calculating look on her face. "If you don't mind, I think we should take you to one of our
hospitals first,and get this fully documented. Then we go to St. Mungo's and heal you up properly. We deal with the
authorities to get the animals who did this to you put away."
Hermione saw that her mother had tears in her eyes. "Mum? Can we …"
"I was going to suggest that myself, dear. First, let's get him bundled up and to the hospital."
"Excuse me, but what's being talked about here?" Harry asked. "I'm a little tired of others making my
decisions for me."
"I'm sorry, Harry dear. We're talking about taking you in until you're ready to be on your own. Sort of a
foster son, if you will." She looked at her daughter with amusement. "Actually trying to adopt you might cause some
problems for our daughter," she finished with a smile.
Ignoring Harry's confused look, Hermione said, "I just wish that it were next year. Then you'll be seventeen,
and can tell them what to do with themselves."
Douglas Granger looked up with interest. "You're sixteen, Harry?"
"I will be on the thirty-first. Why?"
Hermione's father grinned. "Because if we start the paperwork now, Harry, you can be considered an
emancipated minor on your birthday. With those bruises and cuts and burns, we can make a good case for your
freedom from your guardians. How would you like to be master of your own fate?"
Harry blinked at the man for several moments. In the span of two minutes of talking to a boy he'd never really
met before, he'd done more for him in just offering such an option than anyone else had ever done for him before. "I
don't know, sir. I don't know anything about living on my own."
Helen Granger grinned. "You can stay with us as long as you'd like, while you learn. That admission shows a
level of maturity some never reach."
The pain came crashing in on him again, and he winced. Without thinking, he turned his gaze to Hermione, his
face calmed, and he began to relax. "Thank you," he said. "I never say that enough, if ever, Hermione. Thank you for
being my friend. Thank you for being you."
Her hand shot to her chest. "You're … umm, you're welcome, I guess." She could feel her heart pounding in
her chest. Does he have any idea just how that sounded to me? "Let's get you to the hospital."
---
Harry learned a few interesting words at the hospital that day; all of them medical terms (he assumed), and the
way they were used, he was fairly certain that they were not complimentary. I'll have to ask Hermione if she knows
what a 'hypocephalic Neanderthal' is.
He was in a private room when two people walked into the room. One of them was a large black man, and the
other was Tonks. She was staring daggers at him. "Whether you believe me or not, Tonks, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I'll wait until you're healed to get revenge, Mr. Potter," she said coldly.
He let his eyes blaze. "Make it a good one, Nymphadora, because that's the only chance you'll ever get." He
turned to Kingsley Shacklebolt. "So, is the Order here to kidnap me back to the Dursley household and lock me in that
cupboard again? Actually, that would be a bit difficult."
"No, it wouldn't," murmured the man dangerously. "Albus and I repaired all the damage from your childish
tantrum. The only thing that the Dursleys found was that you had somehow disappeared with your owl. We are here
to transport you to the headquarters of the Order."
"Against my will."
"If need be," Tonks grinned nastily. "You're going to be protected whether or not you like it, ickle Harrykins."
"I assume that someone will be there to constantly Ennervate me after you are repeatedly forced to Stupefy me?
I am not staying there. Nor am I returning to the Dursleys."
"You'll change your mind about that," Tonks said.
"You're as stupid as you are clumsy, aren't you, Tonks? Remember seeing this hand before it was bandaged?
Vernon did that to me my first day back, and never let me treat it. I have no sense of touch in that hand anymore. You
could put my hand over a candle right now, and I couldn't feel it because of him. I have a fractured skull because
Dudley struck me with a frying pan." Harry stood up and turned around, displaying his entire backside to them both.
"See these love taps? Vernon. Belt." He sat back in the bed. "Promise: if I am sent back to Number four Privet
Drive against my will at any time in my life, there will be at least three Avada Kedavra spells cast, because the
Dursleys will be no more."
He looked to Kingsley. "Going to Obliviate everyone in the hospital? I'm not leaving here except in the
company of the only people I trust anymore – the Grangers." He growled. "Now run back to Dumbledore and tell him
the latest info, so that he can figure out who he has to put in danger to make me agree to his terms."
Tonks was actually looking at Harry in horror. "I know, Tonks. I shouldn't talk about casting the A-K on
anyone, no matter how much better off the world would be without them."
"Harry, I didn't know …" Tonks was murmuring.
"Tonks, you never bothered to really ask. It was always 'How the Muggles treating you?' in the company of
others like Molly Weasley. I love the woman, but she smothers people like crazy. I don't dare tell her to her face, but
she's the reason that Ron's as immature as he is. Ginny grew up the hard way, being taken over by mouldy Voldie,
otherwise she'd be just as bad, I'll bet. I can't actually recall anyone just sitting down and asking me exactly what it
was like living with the Dursleys."
He sighed. "The police are going to be here soon, to take copious notes on the injuries I took. See if you can
get a copy of them when they're done here. You might find them eye-opening."
He looked up to see two men standing in the doorway. "Ah. Looks like the interviewers are here. Thanks for
showing up, guys. I do think you need to talk to him for me, though. No idea how long this hand will take to heal."
One of the men said from the door, "Talk to who, son?" They showed their badges and stepped further in.
"Headmaster of my school. Let him know that things are going to be a bit hectic this summer, and I'm
uncertain as to how things will work out. I'm hoping to be back to school when it starts September first."
"Shouldn't be a problem from the legal standpoint," they said. "Doctor's ideas are something else, though."
Kingsley and Tonks nodded, Tonks gently squeezing his shoulder, before leaving. Harry grabbed her hand and
gave it a quick squeeze before she could pull away, and she smiled sincerely at him. Once they were out of the room,
he looked at the police again. "Could I have my friend in here while you interview me? This is the kind of thing that
I want her to know, and it'll actually make it easier, I think, than trying to describe this all to someone I don't know."
"Unorthodox, but it shouldn't be a problem." One of them went to the door, then turned around. "Which sister
is it?"
"Thank you dear!" came Helen's voice from out in the hall. "I'm her mother."
"Actually, let all three of them in. I think they need to hear this as well, since they've offered to keep an eye
on me for the summer."
The interview happened fairly quickly. Harry had a good idea of what he could and could not say to the
police. His Hogwarts education was quickly chalked up to a legacy scholarship from his father and mother, who had
died in an automobile accident in 1981. The wounds, however, were carefully and painfully catalogued in words, and
Hermione kept crying silently through the interview.
Harry could tell, as they talked, that the police were chalking up the hatred the Dursleys had for him to a
dislike for his father. As the interview concluded, the police looked at the Granger family and asked to speak to the
parents in the hall, leaving Hermione and Harry in the room alone.
Sniffling, she asked, "How did you get to be so wonderful, with an upbringing like that?"
He laughed quietly. "Have you been hitting some of the medications here? Me, wonderful? That's your worry
speaking, Hermione. Tell me that tomorrow after the worry has died down and maybe I'll believe you." She looked
ready to cry again, and his face fell.
"How can you be friends with someone who hurts your feelings like I seem to be doing?" he asked, looking at
his left hand and intentionally flexing it, against the doctor's orders.
"Harry, this summer has been hell for you. I am not going to worry if you say something that bothers me. And
I'm sorry that I'm hurting you."
"I'll worry about it. You don't insult someone you lo … like a lot on a regular basis. I want to know when I'm
doing it. Maybe someday I can be a normal person, with your help."
"I don't think I'd be fond of a normal Harry. I've gotten addicted to the adventure of being your friend," she
laughed.
"Addicted to being put in mortal danger on a regular basis, just because you're my friend. You were almost
killed because of me, Hermione. Twice. I'm dangerous to know."
"Tough," she said, leaning over and hugging him. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Harry Potter. I'm with
you until the end."
He felt himself stiffen slightly. There's no way she could mean that the way I wish she did. At least I've got
her as a friend.
She separated from him and back up slightly, still leaning over him, smiling. His eyes slid, unbidden, from her
face down to the view afforded him now. He could see quite a lot of the curve of her breasts. I can even see her nip
… He turned a brilliant shade of red and wrenched his eyes up and began to count the holes in the ceiling tiles. Jesus,
I'm going to blush every time I see her from now on. She's gonna slap me any second now, when she realizes what I
saw.
He was surprised to hear her chuckle and say mischievously, "See something you like, Harry?" He looked
back at her in shock, and was surprised to see that she hadn't changed her position.
He carefully locked his eyes on hers and said, "I am sorry, Hermione. I hadn't intended …."
"I haven't moved, have I? If it weren't for your blush, I wouldn't have known that you'd seen them. If it makes
you feel better, then look at them. I know it's not how I act at school, but …"
He interrupted by gently pushing her shoulders up so that the view was no longer evident. "Hermione, I'm a
fifteen year old boy. If I have a chance at a view like that one, I'm not going to be able to carry on a coherent
conversation with you." He took a deep breath. "I treasure our conversations and our friendship. I'm not going to
jeopardize that. You are my best friend, and I will not take advantage of you that way. If I ever take you for granted, I
want you to tell me. You mean too much to me for me to abuse you like that." He smiled a tired smile. "Before you
worry whether or not I liked what I was seeing, remember that I pushed you away so that I could be coherent." He
blushed furiously. "What I could see looked very pretty."
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "Thank you, Harry. Would you like to go to sleep now?"
"I am tired. What time is it?"
She looked at her wristwatch. "Almost nine PM. I expect they'll call to end …"
She was interrupted by the intercom saying, "Visiting hours are now over."
"We'll be back tomorrow, Harry." She leaned back over slowly, keeping her chin up for a moment before she
bent her neck and kissed his cheek. "Hope you enjoyed the view. Have a good night."
He smiled. "I will now," he said before she left the room. He slept soundly dreaming of the bright smile she
flashed him as she left the room.