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Author: Arnel Story: Summer Story Rating: Young Teens Status: Completed Reviews: 6 Words: 165,053
Harry's trunk had been packed for two days. It stood in its usual place at the foot of his bed with Hedwig's cage on top. Hedwig herself sat placidly on her perch, her head tucked under one wing. Despite her relaxed position, Harry knew that she wasn't asleep because he could see her peering at him with one golden brown eye. She seemed to be as eager as her owner for the arrival of the headmaster. Fawkes had appeared early on Thursday morning, nearly two weeks after Harry had arrived at Privet Drive, with Professor Dumbledore's letter telling Harry when to be ready to leave for Hogwarts. It was a testimony of how eager he was to leave the Dursleys' that Harry had immediately begun gathering his possessions and organizing his room. He now stood in the doorway scanning the bare walls and the open door to his empty wardrobe to make certain he had not missed anything. To him, the room held no sentiment except a fondness he felt for the cracks in the plaster ceiling over his bed. He had stripped the worn, thin mattress, neatly folding the sheets and stacking them at the foot of the bed. He had emptied every drawer in his dresser and desk, checking and rechecking that nothing remained to remind his relatives of his presence in the room. Finally, he had squirmed underneath the bed, pried up the loose floor board and fished inside his hiding place, withdrawing the remnants of an old birthday cake, several broken quills, and a dried-up bottle of ink. The only reminder of his stay this year was his exercise pole; it refused to come unstuck from the floor and Harry thought that Professor Dumbledore might give him permission to cancel the sticking spell once he arrived. He was about to search his desk one more time when he heard Aunt Petunia shut the door to the spare bedroom where the trap door to the attic was located. He had seen her go in there ten minutes earlier and had wondered vaguely why when she had dusted and vacuumed that room just yesterday. Turning towards the sound, he was surprised to see her carrying an old cardboard box. She looked at him suspiciously saying, "You've never been this tidy before. Why did you clean up so thoroughly this year?" "I... er... I wanted to make up for all the years I've left reminders of my stay here," Harry said lamely. "You let me recuperate this year. Thank you." Aunt Petunia stared at him as if she didn't quite believe him, and then said hesitantly, "Harry, I... do you have room in your trunk for this?" Harry eyed the box distrustfully. "What is it?" he asked as she held it out to him. "Just some old things I want to get rid of, but thought you might want to look at before I threw them out," she said, returning to her normal tone of voice. "If you're not interested I'll just throw them in the bin." Harry took the box. "It won't hurt me to have a look," he grumbled and shut the door in his aunt's face. What could she possibly have kept for so long that she suddenly wants to get rid of? he wondered. He placed the box on his desk, lifted the lid and stared open-mouthed at the contents. Inside were a child's blanket and a letter, bearing Dumbledore's handwriting, addressed to Petunia Dursley. With trembling hands, Harry removed the letter and scanned the neat lines that explained the reason for Harry's being left on her doorstep. So this is how it all started, he mused, restoring the letter to its envelope and lifting out the blanket. His eyes drifted shut as a series of vague memories exploded inside his head. He didn't fight them, but let them play out: most were fragments of larger memories, but one seemed to be intact. Harry bowed his head and clutched the blanket as he remembered the day his blanket was taken from him... He was four years old, old enough to know that taking something of Dudley's would get him thrown into his cupboard. But Dudley had been taking his blanket all day and little Harry wanted revenge. He reached over and picked up the brightly coloured ball Dudley had been throwing at the telly whenever a commercial interrupted his enjoyment of a favourite show. The moment Harry's hand closed over the toy Dudley let out a fearsome howl. "Bad boy took my ball!" he wailed, as Uncle Vernon came charging into the living room. "Boy! You give that back!" Uncle Vernon yelled, wrenching both the ball and Harry's blanket away from him. "Haven't you learned that taking things is WRONG?" He yanked little Harry to his feet and frogmarched him into the hall, dropping the ball and the blanket on the floor as he opened the door to Harry's cupboard. He shoved Harry inside bellowing, "You take things from my son, I take things from you." Harry had never seen his beloved blanket again and until this moment had believed his uncle had thrown it out with the trash. Why did Aunt Petunia save this? he wondered as he smoothed the woolly softness. Why am I so attached to it? It's just an old blanket. But he knew the answer: the blanket had been his sole comfort until it had been taken away. Harry swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and gently lowered the blanket back into the box. As he did so, his hand brushed against a piece of paper stuck to the side of the box. He carefully peeled it away and blinked in surprise when he realized what he was holding. The Muggle photograph of his mother smiled up at him. Lily sat on a park bench holding the leash of a Pembroke Corgi. The dog had its nose in the air and was looking at her expectantly. After a moment, Harry turned the photo over. On the back, written in his aunt's hand were the words, "My sister, Lily. Age 17. June 1977." "Well, are you keeping that stuff?" his aunt asked brusquely, barging into Harry's room. Harry carefully laid the photo on top of the letter and put the lid back on the box before answering. "Yes. I'm keeping it," he said, putting a possessive hand on the box. "Very well. The box was taking up room in the attic, so you might as well take it with you," she said dismissively. "When did your letter say Professor Dumbledore will be here?" Harry replied, "Half two, Aunt Petunia." "He'd better be on time. I have to take Dudley into town and don't want to leave until you're gone." Harry looked at his watch. "He'll be here in ten minutes. I'll take my things down now." Aunt Petunia turned on her heel and left without a word. Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage and took it down to the foyer. Returning quickly to his room for his trunk, he opened it and made room for the box. He closed the lid and then stood staring at it. The only way to get the large and heavy item down the stairs without magic was to drag it. A grin suddenly split Harry's face as he pulled it along, letting it bump noisily behind him. "What's all the ruckus?" Uncle Vernon demanded from the living room. He threw his paper down on the ottoman and lumbered to his feet. "I demand to know why you insist on making such a god-awful noise, boy!" Harry smirked as he explained, "I'm leaving in a few minutes with Professor Dumbledore. Didn't Aunt Petunia tell you?" "Does this mean you're coming back next year or are you gone for good?" Uncle Vernon challenged, coming into the foyer. "Because if you're coming back next year, you'll be paying room and board!" Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the kitchen door open just a crack and knew Dudley was listening at the keyhole. "I'll be back next year, Uncle Vernon," he said. His uncle eyed him suspiciously. "I suppose you've left all sorts of nasty things in your room, boy. You've always been a slob," he said vindictively. "It's a lot less cluttered than when I moved into it," Harry shot back. "There's only my exercise pole, which I'll have Professor Dumbledore remove before we leave." "I'll believe it when I see it," Uncle Vernon snapped. "When does that professor of yours get here?" Harry opened his mouth to answer, but the doorbell cut him off. Ignoring his uncle's glare, he strode eagerly to the door and opened it. Professor Dumbledore stood on the threshold wearing a stylish black suit and a grey Trilby, which contrasted sharply with his long white hair and beard. Harry thought his headmaster looked rather like a Jewish rabbi. "Hello, Professor Dumbledore," he said, stepping back to allow his headmaster to come inside. "Hello, Harry. Marvellous day for a walk. I see you are ready for me this year. Have you said good bye to your family?" Harry studied Professor Dumbledore from the back as they walked into the lounge. Somehow, he had the impression that his Headmaster was very tired today. "Not yet, sir. I was wondering if I could have permission to cancel the sticking charm on the exercise post Madam Pomfrey had me using while I was here." "You may, Harry. Be quick about it. We are due at Arabella's in a few minutes." Harry sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom. Whipping out his wand, he pointed it first at his alarm clock and then at the post, non-verbally casting two separate charms. The clock "pinged" quietly and the post immediately toppled over, shrinking to fit its carry bag. As he stuffed the post into the bag, Dudley leaned against the door jam, blocking Harry's way out. "That was cool," he remarked, "but won't you get in trouble?" "No. Professor Dumbledore is here and he gave me permission to cancel the Sticking Charm," Harry answered coldly, walking up to Dudley. The memory of that day in the park was still fresh in Harry's mind. He needed to get back downstairs, but it didn't seem as though Dudley wanted to let him pass. "Excuse me, please." Dudley didn't budge. Instead, he said, "I guess this is it. You're not coming back until next year." Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why should you care? You're getting your second bedroom back," he said tersely. Dudley glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, well... It's been... helpful having a workout partner. You still look like a gust of wind could blow you away. You just might want to keep doing some of those exercises – wherever it is that you're going." Harry gaped at his cousin. They hadn't really had a proper conversation since that day in the park, yet here was Dudley acting as though he didn't want Harry to leave. A couple of moments' awkward silence passed, which Harry finally broke. "You... you helped me a lot, Dudley... Thanks," he said stiffly. "Yeah, er... maybe I'll find a way to, you know, keep in touch," Dudley said quietly, again glancing over his shoulder. "Er... sure, all right," Harry replied, stunned. A smile twitched at the corners of Dudley's lips. "Might be kinda hard, though. Normal people don't keep owls about to deliver their post," he said, rolling his eyes. Was Dudley making a joke? Harry's mouth quirked slightly as he said, "Take them to Mrs Figg. She'll see that I get them." Dudley looked satisfied as he walked across the landing and into his room. At the door, he turned. "See you around, Pot... erm, Harry. Good luck." A moment later the door to Dudley's room shut behind him. Shaking his head, Harry took the stairs two at a time, gaining the foyer in time to prevent his uncle from bellowing for him. Harry addressed Dumbledore as he stuffed the carry bag into his school bag. "All done, sir. Will we be leaving soon?" "Yes, right away. There are three things left to do. I imagine Hedwig will enjoy a flight to Hogwarts much more than being sent there magically, so let's give her her freedom," the headmaster said, smiling. Harry reached for the cage door, but Professor Dumbledore stopped him. "As a precaution, we must give her a little disguise," he said, drawing his wand. As Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stepped back looking horrified, the headmaster flicked his wand, changing Hedwig into a Great Gray owl. She hooted indignantly and ruffled her dreary feathers as if to say, "This had better not be permanent!" Laughing, Harry opened the front door and released her saying, "I'll see you at Hogwarts, Hedwig." Hedwig circled the front garden once and then flew north towards Hogwarts. Harry closed the front door and said, "I'm ready." "Very good. Do you have your cloak, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "Please put it on." Harry pulled it from his school bag. "Now, I will send these to your new quarters." Again he flicked his wand, and Harry's trunk and the bird cage disappeared. Finally, he turned and bowed slightly to the goggling Dursleys. "I thank you for giving Harry house room. You have done the Wizarding world a service for keeping him these many years." Neither Aunt Petunia nor Uncle Vernon responded as Dumbledore straightened his hat and then addressed Harry. "And now, let us start a new journey into the unknown, dangerous world." At the door, Harry paused. "Bye," he said as he slipped under his Invisibility Cloak. He pulled the door closed, wondering whether he really would hear from Dudley. At Mrs Figg's house, Harry and Professor Dumbledore paused briefly, listening intently. "Per Madam Pomfrey's orders, please go to Honeydukes, Harry," Dumbledore said, glancing out a window over Harry's shoulder in the direction of Privet Drive. "Mr and Mrs Flume know to expect you and one of them will be on hand should you need assistance." He held up a hand as Harry inhaled to protest that he could take care of himself. "In these perilous times it is critical that we travel in groups. One never knows when back-up will be needed. " A sudden, resounding BOOM! rocked the neighbourhood. Dumbledore nodded in approval at Harry: Dumbledore's charm on the Dursleys' house had just failed. "Your Aunt has found your letter, Harry, the one stating you will never be coming back?" "Yes, Professor. I charmed my alarm clock so that only Aunt Petunia would hear it and placed the letter underneath. There was no way she could have missed it," Harry said. "Good. We must hurry before the Death Eaters arrive. The Order members should be at your Aunt's house now with the only Time Turner left in existence. If your relatives cooperate, the hour Kingsley Shacklebolt is giving them will be enough for them to pack for a short journey. If not, he will have to Stun them before taking them to their safe house. "I will meet you downstairs next to the lemon drops." "Yes, sir." With one last smile of thanks to Mrs Figg, Harry stepped into the green flames as Dumbledore Disapparated; He arrived in the Flume's sitting room a few seconds later. Mrs Flume greeted him with a smile and a clothes brush and quickly flicked away the stray soot, after which she directed him downstairs to the shop. Professor Dumbledore smiled at Harry as he entered the shop, thanked Mrs Flume and the two departed for the short walk to Hogwarts. The afternoon was a fine one, just the sort for a pleasant stroll, but they needed to hurry towards the safety of the Hogwarts perimeter. Even so, Harry was aware of sounds he didn't usually hear during term; birds other than the owls, the rustle of the grass at the edge of the forest that had Harry's head turning frequently as he searched for Death Eaters, a soft breeze that whispered amongst the trees. If they'd had the luxury of a stroll, Harry knew he would have felt at peace. As they approached the gates, Dumbledore drew his wand and began murmuring quietly. The air around them suddenly seemed charged with electricity and Harry supposed it was the headmaster's magic causing the change. They passed between the winged boars and Harry felt another change, as if an enormous door had gently closed behind him. He smiled up at his mentor as they slowed to a stroll. As Professor Dumbledore stowed away his wand, Harry noticed a large ring on his left hand. It looked very old and unfashionable. He cleared his throat to gain Dumbledore's attention. "Professor Dumbledore, is that ring part of your Muggle attire?" he asked. "Actually, no, Harry," Dumbledore answered. "It is indeed a wizard's ring. And since it is old and very valuable, I wore it today for safe-keeping." Puzzled by Professor Dumbledore's answer, Harry asked, "Wouldn't it be safer to keep it someplace like Gringotts?" Professor Dumbledore smiled. "No, Harry, it is valuable in another way." Harry's eyebrow shot towards his fringe. "You mean to tell me that bauble is one of... them?" he asked, his voice cracking on the last word. He still hadn't completely accepted the concept of a Horcrux, although he understood their purpose. "It is, yes. Don't look so alarmed, Harry. You may recall the Diary was harmless until one opened it. The same applies to the ring. It is perfectly safe, as long as it does not come into direct contact with a certain type of spell," the headmaster remarked. "But enough of this dark subject. I imagine you are quite eager to get to your quarters and then go exploring through Mr Longbottom's greenhouse. Oh, yes, Professor Sprout has turned an entire greenhouse over to him for his breeding projects and experimentation. You are in for a treat, Harry. Let's get you settled in before we venture too much further into the real reason for why you are here." Harry nodded and tried to shrug off the sense of impending doom that had settled over him at the mention of the Horcrux. The Entrance Hall was delightfully cool in comparison to the sunlit castle grounds. Harry paused as the front doors closed behind them, unused to seeing the two huge, shiny brass plaques that had been recently hung on either side of the doors to the Great Hall as proof that so many Hogwarts' students had sacrificed a pleasant afternoon to defend the castle and the village of Hogsmeade just three short weeks ago. "Go ahead and read them, Harry. I'll send Dobby along to show you to your quarters. By the way, you may use your wand while you're here," Dumbledore said as he began ascending the marble staircase. He was almost at the top when a lone Great Grey owl swooped into the Entrance Hall and perched on the balustrade in front of him. Harry recognized the incognito Hedwig by the way she fluffed her feathers; only Hedwig could convey her frame of mind by rearranging her plumage. Dumbledore laughed heartily at the owl that seemed to be waiting expectantly for something as it did not carry a letter. "Professor, I think Hedwig would like to have her feathers returned to their original colour," Harry said, unable to contain his grin. "I don't think she's too happy being a Great Grey Owl." Dumbledore smiled at her and took out his wand. "My dear Hedwig, I had no intention of leaving you looking as if you had tumbled down a chimney. Please, come closer and I will cancel the spell." As Hedwig hopped closer, her feathers became their natural immaculate white. She pulled at one or two with her beak and, satisfied with her appearance, flew down to sit on Harry's shoulder. He stroked her wings as he conveyed her thanks. "Come find me later," he whispered to her. "You must be tired after your flight. Go have a nap while I unpack." Hedwig took off for the Owlery as Harry turned to study the Four Founders' Award plaque. He smiled at the sheer number of students, listed in alphabetical order, who had participated with honour in the battle for Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. He was about to inspect the Service to the School plaque when Dobby appeared at his side with a loud crack. "Dobby is here to help Mr Harry Potter find his rooms. I is very glad to see you," the little elf squealed, throwing himself at Harry and hugging him around the middle. Harry gently extracted himself after patting the elf on the shoulder. "I'm glad to see you, too, Dobby." He paused and then asked slowly, "Did you say rooms?" "Oh, yes, Harry Potter. Follow me. I is taking you there." The little elf took off at a brisk pace up the marble staircase. Harry was panting slightly by the time he caught up with him on the third floor. Dobby slowed a little and led the way up a last staircase and down an unfamiliar fourth-floor corridor. He stopped when the corridor terminated at a small, circular room in the centre of which sat a statue of Beaumont Marjoribanks holding a handful of what looked like Gillyweed. Harry shuddered involuntarily as a particularly slimy memory flitted through his mind. "Here is your rooms, sir," Dobby said, gesturing to a painting of two Seekers diving after a Golden Snidget. "Dobby brought Harry Potter's trunk and bird cage up already. Just capture the Snidget and you can open the door." He turned to leave. Bewildered, Harry said, "Hold on. I thought I was staying in Gryffindor Tower with Neville Longbottom." Smiling, Dobby explained, "You is, sir. The rooms behind this painting are part of Gryffindor Tower. This is your private entrance." "My private entrance," Harry repeated slowly. "Where is Neville's, then?" Dobby pointed to the painting next to Harry's. A large knobbly plant turned its appendages towards a brightly painted sun. "Right here, sir. There is an adjoining door between your suites." Suites? Now this I've got to see, Harry thought. He thanked Dobby and reached hesitantly for the Snidget in his own painting. As his fingers closed over the painted golden bird, he felt a doorknob form. He turned it and the painting swung outward. The wedge-shaped room behind the door was large and richly furnished in beautiful antiques. Straight ahead, a large fireplace dominated the back wall of the sitting room. He could see straight through it into the bedroom and guessed that both of the suite's rooms were heated by the single fire. Very clever, he thought. On either side of the fireplace was a door, one leading to his bedroom and the other hopefully to the common room upstairs. He crossed the sitting room, entered the bedroom and was happy to find his trunk in its traditional place at the foot of his bed. He grinned when he realized the furnishings duplicated the décor he was used to in his dormitory. Hedwig's cage sat on a small table next to the window. There were two doors located on opposite sides of the room. The one on the left wall led to a private bathroom with a large tub that overlooked the Forbidden Forest. The other, on the right wall, was locked and Harry assumed it led to Neville's quarters. Harry walked over to his trunk. He fished in his pockets for his key and made quick work of his unpacking. He had just finished when he heard someone knock on the locked door. Seconds later, Neville poked his head into Harry's room. "Hi, Neville!" Harry exclaimed happily. "Hello, Harry. How are you doing?" Neville asked, glancing significantly at Harry's left shoulder. Harry smiled at his friend. "I'm doing much better, thank you. When did you get here?" "Last Sunday. I had a very nice week with Gran and then we took the Floo Network to Honeydukes. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout have been keeping me busy all week." "That's great to hear. Did you finish your article?" Harry asked, closing his trunk and locking it with a spell. Neville beamed. "I certainly did. Healer Rodkey sent it to The Healers' Journal yesterday. I'm hoping it will be published soon. Would you like to read it? I have a copy in my safe at the greenhouse." Harry asked, "Will you show me your experiments, too?" "I'd love to, Harry. I was just going back when Dobby came to tell me you were here." The two boys exited Harry's suite and Neville led the way through the castle and out onto the grounds. "My greenhouse is Greenhouse twelve, the one furthest from the front doors. Professor Sprout thought I'd have fewer prying eyes way back there once term begins. I think she's right." Neville unlocked the door using his wand and stepped aside to let Harry pass through. At first, Harry thought the room looked like any other greenhouse he'd been in with its rows of plant tables and scores of little potted plants all in various stages of growth. Neville's original Mimbulus mimbletonia held pride of place in the middle of one of the growing tables. Then he took a second look around. The back of the room looked like a Muggle chemistry lab. Several cauldrons bubbled over magical fires in one corner. Next to them in a glass cupboard were rows and rows of glass tubing in different lengths and shapes, as well a shelving unit containing books and other scientific apparatuses. In front of the shelving unit Neville had set up an experiment on a large work table. Finally, on the opposite wall from the cauldrons was Neville's neatly arranged desk, which Harry thought contrasted deeply with the disorganization of Neville's part of their dormitory during term time. "Neville, this is fantastic! I had no idea this was here." "Neither did I until Professor Sprout began giving me those private lessons Professor Dumbledore arranged. I'm really glad you finally have the time to come see it," Neville remarked. He walked over to his desk, kneeling in front of it to open a cupboard with his wand. "Here is a copy of the article," he said, handing it to Harry. Harry quickly scanned the neatly written manuscript, noting how precisely scientific it was. Since Neville was looking at him expectantly, he sat in the desk chair and leafed through until he found the Appendix that followed Ginny's daily progress. Much of the language was medicinal in nature and completely foreign to Harry. He quickly handed the manuscript back to Neville saying, "This is fantastic, or at least the part I understand! Can you also show me what you're working on?" For the next half hour, Neville strolled around the greenhouse pointing to various plants and explaining what he was doing with them. As they walked, Harry felt a surge of pride for his friend's work. Ginny was right, he thought as he listened to Neville's confident tone. Neville has indeed found his calling. Finally, they had circled the entire greenhouse. Neville looked pointedly at Harry and said, "I know you told me you were doing better, Harry, but I have a feeling that's not all there is to it. I had a letter from Ron the other day that said you were working out. Are you progressing as fast as you'd like?" Harry leaned against one of the growing tables and stared up at the glass roof of the greenhouse. Finally, he said honestly, "In some ways I am, but in others I'm not." Neville's concern was plainly evident as he asked, "In what ways, Harry?" "My shoulder feels completely normal now, thanks to the exercises my cousin Dudley made me do over and above what Madam Pomfrey prescribed." He stopped, scowling, trying to find the right words. "The rest of me seems... er... sluggish. I run out of breath easily and that... that's what worries me." "Have you been running or swimming lately?" Neville asked. Harry shook his head, feeling his ears turn red. "Madam Pomfrey wanted me to wait to do any running until she had a chance to check me over," he said quietly, feeling his ears begin to heat up. "If you really need to know, I haven't been in the water since the Triwizard Tournament—no place to swim until the P-T room was built—and I don't swim all that well anyway." He cleared his throat. "The Dursleys gave me a week's worth of swim lessons only because they had to. I think they hoped that I'd drown someday." Neville was quiet for a time. He then offered, "If you'd like, we could meet at the P-T Room pool and we could swim together. Gran made me learn when I was little so she wouldn't have to worry about me so much when we went to the seaside." The self-deprecating smile Harry had seen many times in the past crept onto his face as he said, "If I learned, you can improve, too. It just takes practice." Harry finally looked at Neville, his embarrassment ebbing. "Thanks, mate. Let's start tomorrow morning." The clock on Neville's desk chimed half five. Harry raised an eyebrow as Neville said, smiling sheepishly, "Dinner in thirty minutes. I've missed it twice this week and thought maybe setting an alarm would remind me I need to eat." Harry asked, "Shall we go, then?" Neville was already half-way to the door. He stopped to caress his Mimbulus mimbletonia and then again led the way back up to the castle. The boys dined with Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Sprout and Madam Pomfrey that evening. Time passed quickly and before he knew it, Harry was back in his rooms, contentedly snuggled under the covers of his bed. For now, he was home.
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