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Author: Smith Story: Sometimes It Takes A Dream To Wake You Up Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Completed Reviews: 1 Words: 35,204
Harry awoke early the next morning with an idea about how to get the Dursley's to read the phony Ministry waiver. He dressed quickly and grabbed the waiver and the £20 note Mrs. Figg had given him. She had told him to buy himself something nice, and if this worked, "nice" would be understatement in the extreme. Harry started to fold the waiver and the money into one another, trying to make it look as accidental as possible. The trick was to leave enough of the banknote showing so that it was easily recognizable. He was probably overdoing it as Uncle Vernon was a greedy bastard, as was Dudley, and they could both smell money, but he wanted it to happen today so why not over do it, neither of them was particularly smart. Next, he slipped the folded papers into his back pocket and checked in the mirror that the end of the banknote was clearly visible. He started to head downstairs but then did an abrupt about face to retrieve the fake wand and slipped it in his front pocket. Harry hadn't taken two steps into the kitchen before he felt the bait taken. He whirled around to find his uncle holding the money and the waiver. His uncle's eyes were focused completely on the money. Harry made an attempt to grab the papers back just to make it look good. "So, you ungrateful brat! Holding out on me, eh? We feed you and clothe you and put a roof over your head and you hold out on me?" Uncle Vernon's left eye was twitching furiously on his purple face. "Fine! Keep the money, but I'll have my Waiver back." Uncle Vernon finally seemed to notice the other item in his plump hand. He unfolded the parchment and started reading. It was amusing for Harry to watch his uncle's face transition from red-purple to green-white. "What's this nonsense?" his uncle asked quietly. "It's not nonsense. There is a powerful dark wizard who wants me dead. So I have been given permission to use this." He produced the fake wand from his pocket. "Anytime I want." Harry was rather proud of himself that he hadn't lied even to his uncle. There was a dark wizard after him, and he could use the fake wand whenever he wanted. Vernon Dursley's eyes locked onto the wand in Harry's hand. Harry gave it a quick shake and sparks erupted from the tip. Dudley screamed from behind him and ran out of the kitchen with both hands making a feeble attempt to protect his enormous rear end from any pig tail curses. "Rubbish." With that, Harry's uncle proceeded to tear the waiver into pieces. Harry stood there looking in shock at the torn parchment on the floor wondering what to do next. He hadn't expected that at all, but then it seemed Fred and George had. The pieces of parchment began to move as if caught up in a small tornado and as they twisted about, they reattached themselves to one another. When the waiver was again whole, it flew into Harry's hand. Smiling triumphantly, Harry looked into his uncle's eyes. Harry spoke calmly, "I'll make you a deal, Uncle. You three ignore me, and I'll ignore you. I will take modest meals after you are all done eating. With any luck we won't see each other for the rest of the month. And no more odd jobs where you get paid for my work." The purple faced, eye twitching Vernon had returned, but he answered quietly, "I suppose that will be tolerable. Only have to put up with you for another week anyway." "Sorry? A week? Not that that doesn't sound lovely for me as well, but what are you on about?" "Oh we didn't tell you? Petunia has won a two week Norwegian cruise out of one of her magazines. The three of us leave next week. You get to stay with Mrs. Figg. Still sound lovely?" Uncle Vernon was taking great delight in rubbing Harry's nose in the Dursley's good fortune and that Harry wasn't included and that Harry would have to stay with Mrs. Figg who Uncle Vernon knew Harry did not care for. Harry didn't give a damn about the Dursley's good fortune or not being included in it. He didn't much care for the idea of staying in that house that stank of cabbage and cats, but he determined it was a wash as far as being away from his relatives. "It sounds…good enough." His uncle seemed very disappointed that Harry was that accepting of the situation. Harry decided to start living up to his end of the new deal and left the kitchen to wait for his aunt and uncle to at least finish breakfast. He headed back to his room to write Ginny back. As he passed by his cousin's room, he saw that the door was cracked open just enough for Dudley to watch him pass by. "Ooga booga," said Harry with a magic-like wave of his hand. Dudley yelped and slammed the door shut. "Thanks guys," Harry chuckled. For the thousandth time, he vowed never to get on Fred and George's bad side. ‘Yet another reason not to screw things up with Ginny. Potter, your talent for dangerous situations is cosmic.' * Harry and Ginny were lying in a hammock laughing at Pig as the tiny owl dive bombed garden gnomes. It was a perfect day. Ginny was cuddled up closely to Harry's left side and his arm was around her. He would pull her even closer every few minutes and breathe deeply of her hair. He'd done this many, many, many times now but it was far from getting old to either of them. She would always sigh and he would close his eyes and smile at the wondrous scents playing about in his nose. "I should be so mad at you, Harry. Took you long enough." "I know. I know. I'm quite thick in the head," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Oh well, I don't suppose it's all your fault. It took me about four years to even attempt a one-on-one conversation with you." "Excellent point! I'm off the hook then." She slapped his chest lightly with her left hand. "Hah! You really don't know a damn thing about girls do you?" "You're supposed to help with that, remember?" Harry grabbed the hand she'd just hit him with his free one. He entwined his fingers with hers and then kissed the back of her hand softly. She looked up at him, and he down at her. He kissed her lightly freckled nose. She smirked. "You missed." He cocked an eyebrow in silent question. "Lower," she answered. He smiled, bent over, and kissed her chin. She shook her head in wonder. "Some Seeker you are. Well, when you want something done right…" She freed her left hand from his grasp and then grabbed the back of his head, filling the gaps between her fingers with his thick black hair. Then, she gently, but firmly, pulled his mouth to hers. Just as their lips brushed he tried to pull back as a tease, but she tightened her grip on his hair. He stopped the tease for fear of a bald spot. Their lips pressed gently together and they began to kiss slowly. Every so often one of them would dare to probe the others lips with a timid tongue but only briefly. The weather of this perfect day seemed to be getting much, much warmer. Harry began to kiss further and further to his left, making his way along her jaw line. Ginny gave out a quiet squeak when he trapped her tiny ear lobe between his front top teeth and his tongue and then pulled away gently. "Did you say lower?" he whispered. Some unintelligible sound from the back of her throat was her only reply. He kissed his way down to the creamy, sensitive skin of her neck. Had she really just purred? Harry spent a long time kissing and exploring that area, while being very careful not to leave any marks that might result in merciless teasing or even bodily harm from a few male redheads in the general area. Ginny was squirming erratically trying to get away from Harry and get closer to him at the same time. In a supreme demonstration of balance born of several years keeping up with her brothers on broomsticks, Ginny managed to roll over and straddle Harry in the hammock with out dumping them both to the ground. She also managed to pin his arms above his head. She was flushed, hair in disarray, and breathing very hard. "What?" Harry asked innocently. "You're in trouble, Mr. Potter." "I am? For what?" Again with a look of pure and infuriating innocence. "For lying. It seems you do know something about girls." He laughed, and then he head butted her, his hair cushioning the blow. She looked at him, confused. He hit her again with a ball of gray feathers. Wait. It wasn't Harry hitting her, it was Pig and Ginny wasn't in a hammock with Harry. She was in her room on a lazy afternoon. Pig was darting around like a Snitch in a box as Hedwig looked on from the open window's sill in clear disdain for the smaller bird's behavior. Pig had apparently decided to wake Ginny up so that Hedwig could finish the delivery. Hedwig had been perfectly willing to wait or at least "hoot" Ginny awake. Ginny yelled, "Pig, I don't think I've ever been this ready to kill in my life! Leave now or I'll hex you onto a slow turning spit!" Ginny sat trying to collect herself. She looked over to Hedwig who seemed to regard her with some sympathy. A quick flap of snowy wings put the owl within reach of Ginny and let the flustered girl remove the letter from the bird's leg. "Thank you, Hedwig. Sorry about the yelling." Hedwig nipped at her finger with affection and flew off. She looked down at the letter with less trepidation than she had the last but there was still hesitation. She closed her eyes remembering the feel of his lips on her. "Harry, if you're half that good…" She smiled at the memory but the longing in her heart threatened tears. Would she ever have the chance to find out? She opened her moist eyes and stared at the letter. She opened it quickly: Dear Ginny, Then I hope to see you soon if this little get together does happen. Right now in fact, it looks as if it may be just you and me as it seems Ron and Hermione are stuck not talking to each other. The thought of being alone somewhere with Harry both thrilled and terrified her. On the Ron and Hermione thing, you may be right in that it's not all Ron's fault. I've thought about it some more and it seems like you and I have both been subjected to different versions of the story. Hermione did not go to Bulgaria. According to her Ron jumped to that conclusion and she let him, and then asked me not to break her confidence with Ron. I don't know if I should be telling you but then after this letter is sent it will be too late. Now I question how Ron could have gotten the situation so wrong unless Hermione managed to direct his thoughts that way to make him jealous? This doesn't sound like Hermione to me but then as I said in my last letter, they are both round the bend. ‘I wouldn't have thought that of Hermione either. Does that make me think less of her or more? Probably better they quit sending letters. Maybe when they lay eyes on each other they'll remember they are friends.' I don't know if you knew what Fred and George sent me for my birthday but it worked brilliantly. There was a fake Ministry waiver that stated I could do magic and a fake wand that I could wave about and make sparks fly. The Dursleys bought it completely and have agreed to leave me alone and I will do the same for them. ‘Mum will love that. Maybe she'll forgive them for blowing up the stove yesterday.' They are also leaving in a week on some cruise they won so I'll see even less of them. It is turning out to be an unusually nice summer. I'll still be glad to get back to school and see everyone, especially you. That is if we don't see each other before then. Her eyes grew wide, ‘Is he flirting with me?' As to helping me figure things out all I can say is "you'll have to try me in person." ‘He IS flirting with me!" Love, Harry Ginny hopped off the bed and began dancing and giggling around her room with the letter clutched to her chest. Fred and George happened to be walking by the door she had left open for the cross breeze. "What did you do to her, Fred? She's acting nutters again." "Wasn't me. Ron maybe? He's coming along nicely. Whoever it was, looks like an interesting bit of magic."
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