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SIYE Time:11:50 on 29th March 2024
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Summer Story
By Arnel

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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems
Characters:None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 392
Summary: Summer at the Dursleys’ is typical for Harry Potter who hopes his stay with his relatives will only last two weeks at most. In this sequel to You’re Still You and New Year, New Hope Harry learns that his role as “savior” of the Wizarding world is more complicated than he thought and that he needs his friends and mentors more than he ever imagined.
Hitcount: Story Total: 135230; Chapter Total: 4960







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Chapter 8: Visiting Hogwarts

The morning of Ginny and Ron’s trip to Hogwarts had finally arrived. She had been looking forward to the journey for over two weeks and, now that their departure was just a few hours away, she was bouncing with anticipation. Her dad had arranged that, just before noon, she and Ron would go via the Floo Network to Hogsmeade and then, with an escort, walk the short distance to Hogwarts where she hoped Harry and Neville would be waiting at the gate.

Ginny’s bag had been packed for nearly a week, more or less, meaning that every time she walked into her room she either put something in or took something out. She knew it was silly to be so concerned with what she was taking–Ron, she knew, would pack ten minutes before they had to leave and forget half of what he wanted to take–but she would not be required to wear her school robes during summer and she wanted to look her best. The trouble was, everything in her wardrobe had come from second hand shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade and, no matter what she chose, all of her clothes had that hand-me-down look to it that she hated.

Sighing and shaking her head in frustration, Ginny threw her hair brush into her bag and zipped it shut. She would just have to be satisfied with the clothes that were now in the bag.

As she descended the stairs to the kitchen Ginny thought about what sort of reaction Harry would have to her appearance. Two weeks ago at Mrs Figg’s she had still been carrying her walking stick. Today, though, she didn’t need it any more and she hoped Harry would be as pleased as the rest of her family. Thank goodness, no more Mad-eye jokes! she thought, entering the kitchen.

Mrs Weasley was at the table with the Daily Prophet and an empty cup of tea. As her daughter entered the kitchen she tapped the teapot to refill it. Ginny sat down beside her mother and plucked a large Dough Cake off the plate sitting beside the steaming teapot. She licked the sticky glaze from her fingers as her mother turned to her.

“You’ve packed all your things already? Your clothes? Your walking stick?” Mrs. Weasley asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes, Mum. I’ve finally decided what to wear this weekend,” Ginny said with a slight smile.

“And what about your Transfiguration text and the essay you promised to finish while you’re a Hogwarts?”

Ginny concentrated on the doughy spiral of her bun to keep from rolling her eyes. “Yes, Mum. My books are packed.”

“Good, good,” Mrs Weasley said, smiling. “You know I’m going to check your spelling at least when I get home from London, so I expect you to have the essay complete.”

“Mum!” Ginny whined, “I’m nearly sixteen, not twelve! The teachers stopped approving our rough drafts three years ago! Besides, just because Harry and Hermione have their homework finished, it doesn’t mean mine has to be. I have the whole summer!”

“You and Ron say that every year and then end up staying awake to all hours the last week before school starts,” Mrs Weasley commented knowingly. “This year is going to be different: you and Ron are going to follow in Harry and Hermione’s footsteps and have your essays done by the end of July!”

“Yes, Mum,” Ginny muttered, sighing. Her mother would never understand: there was a reason she and Ron spent that last week before 1 September scrambling to get their essays done. The teachers always wanted to either test them on the summer material or spend the first two days reviewing what had been learnt from doing the essays; if she finished her essays too early in the summer she knew she would forget everything she had written about.

At that moment Ron stumbled down the stairs looking half-awake and in need of his morning “cuppa”. However, when their mum pushed the tea pot towards him along with her cheery “Good morning, Ronnie dear”, he shook his head and mumbled, “Coffee,” and shuffled over to the counter.

Mrs Weasley’s head jerked upwards and she glared at Ron over the top of her paper. “When did you start drinking coffee?” she demanded as he began rummaging through the kitchen cupboards for the coffee pot and grounds.

A little more awake now, Ron found the coffee pot with a triumphant “got it” and answered, “Hogsmeade battle vigil.”

“And when did the house-elves begin putting coffee on the Great Hall tables at meals?”

Ginny came to her brother’s rescue. “Mum, there were lots of parents who came up to be with their injured children. The coffee was on the tables for anyone who wanted it, so Ron and Hermione and I drank some.” Grimacing, she added, “The stuff tastes awful, but those two seemed to like it!”

Mrs Weasley harrumphed and walked over to show Ron how to properly fill the pot. “Where has the time gone?” she asked as Ron cast the proper spell and the coffee began to drip into the pot. “The last time I looked you two were knee-high to a kneazle and whinging about who took whose pumpkin juice!”

Ginny walked over and put her arm around her mum’s shoulders. With a significant look at Ron, she said, “Even if we’re all grown up we’ll always come home for meals, Mum. Bill and Charlie and Fred and George still do. Besides, none of us can cook like you do!”

Mrs Weasley kissed Ginny on the cheek. “Thanks, darling. You make an old mum feel needed,” she said. “Now you two go have breakfast. We have some chores to do before you leave.”

Two hours later, after finishing the tasks her mother had given her, Ginny closed the door to her room and called up the stairs to Ron, “I’m going downstairs. Mum says you’ve got five minutes until we leave!”

Several floors above, Ron’s door banged shut and Ginny heard him clattering towards her.

“All set?” he asked as he passed her.

“You bet,” she said, and picking up the bag she had set on the landing, she followed Ron down the stairs.

Mrs Weasley hugged them as they prepared to use the Floo. “Have fun, but take the time to get those essays done, you two! You’ll have the library all to yourselves, you know,” she admonished as Ron groaned. “Your father and I will be waiting for your return Monday afternoon. I’ll let you know when I expect you. Send an owl if there’s any change in your plans.”

Ron took a pinch of Floo powder from the flower pot on the mantle and threw it into the fire. As the flames flared green, he said over his shoulder, “We will. Good bye, Mum!” He waved, then shouted, “Honeydukes!” and was gone almost instantly.

Ginny hugged her mother one last time. “Tell Bill we said hello. Have a great time at dinner tonight meeting Fleur, Mum.” The flames turned green and Ginny began spinning as Mrs Weasley waved her on her way.

The trip didn’t take very long and Ginny soon found herself shooting out of a sooty sitting room fireplace to be greeted by not only Mr Flume and Ron, but Harry and Neville as well. As she straightened up, Harry came forward and held out a hand, pulling her into a hug a moment later. His arms felt strong and solid around her and she could feel his muscles ripple as she slid her own arms around him.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.

“Good! I’d be worried if you weren’t,” she joked, pulling away. She reached out and pulled Neville into a loose hug. “How’s my favourite Herbologist?”

Neville’s ears turned scarlet. “Really well, thank you. Hey, my article has been accepted for the August edition of The Healer’s Journal!”

“Oh, Neville, that’s wonderful!” Ginny exclaimed. “When can we see a copy?”

“I think it comes out the last week of July,” he replied as the group responded with words of congratulations. “Next week, sometime.”

Mr Flume cleared his throat. “I need to get downstairs. Shall we go?”

Harry picked up Ginny’s bag with his left hand and extended his right to her. “Let’s go see Hagrid. He’s waiting outside.”

“Hagrid’s our escort? Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. He started down the stairs, his overnight bag bumping along behind him.

The interior of Honeydukes looked the same as it ever had and Ginny paused briefly to spend a little of her reward money on several boxes of Sugar Quills for Hermione, Chocolate Frogs for Harry and Neville and a gigantic box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans for her brother. What to choose for herself had her completely confused because she wanted a little of everything; Harry solved her problem by pointing to the largest box of chocolates in the display window.

“She’ll have one of those,” he said, grinning as Ginny playfully poked him in the side with her elbow.

Ginny glanced outside at the hot summer day. “Won’t they melt on the way up to Hogwarts?” she asked.

“The boxes all have cooling charms on them, dear,” Mrs Flume explained. “Same as our chocolates counter. The charm lasts until the leaves outside begin turning red and by that time, your chocolates will be long gone.”

“Don’t be too sure about that,” Ron commented. “My sister has been known to save even the smallest box of chocolates for weeks!”

Ginny glared at Ron but said nothing, choosing instead to smile graciously at Mrs Flume who had just closed the lid of the box and tapped it with her wand. “Thank you,” she said, taking her purchases. “I’ll get another box for my mum and dad when I come back on Monday.”

The four teenagers exited the sweet shop and greeted Hagrid who was sitting on a stone bench under the shop window.

“Thanks for coming to escort us,” Ron said as they began the walk up to the castle.

“My pleasure, Ron. Later this weekend, you and Ginny will have ter come by and see the month-old hippogriff I’m raising. Little thing’s jus’ getting’ her feathers. Right pretty, she is.”

“Hagrid, what do you know about the renovations on the village?” Harry asked. “This is the first time I’ve been off the grounds since I got here and I’m surprised that not much is being done to rebuild.”

Hagrid sounded sad as he said, “Well, with You-Know-Who still at large, people’re scared, mind you. Loads of ‘em left the village after the battle. Not too many of the little shops will be openin’ again this Fall–jus’ the major shops like Scrivenshaft’s and Gladrags. The post office building was finished two days after you lot lef’ on the train. The postmaster made sure everyone received their mail on time and was able ter send their letters when they needed ter. Zonko’s is talking about not reopenin’.”

“I remember how grateful several of my classmates were to the postmaster for doing that,” Ginny commented. “Now what’s this about Zonko’s?”

“Well, they migh’ not open if the Board acts on its decision ter cancel the Hogsmeade visits scheduled for next year,” Hagrid explained. “It’s too hard ter guarantee the students’ safety when you lot come into the village. If You-Know-Who decides he wants ter attack again, he’ll most likely choose another Hogsmeade Visit day ter split the defendin’ forces in two again,” he told them over the group’s protests.

Harry mumbled something Ginny didn’t catch and slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her close. The reality of the war was pressing in more than ever this summer than it had during last term and after Hagrid’s news, they followed Hagrid to the gates and up the sloping drive to the castle in silence.

Dobby met the group in the Entrance Hall and took them to their rooms.

“Dobby, why are we stopping here? I thought we’d be using our normal dormitory rooms,” Ginny commented as they came to a circular room decorated with a statue and five paintings.

“These are the Gryffindor guest suites, miss,” Dobby explained. He indicated a painting of three Chasers throwing a Quaffle between them and another of a Keeper defending his goal hoops, then described how to open the doors. “Harry Potter and Mr Neville have suites over there,” he said, pointing. “Now, best you settle in quickly. Lunch will be served in the Great Hall at half past twelve. Miss Granger will be arriving shortly after lunch.”

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed as Dobby Disapparated and he tried the inventive way of opening his painting. Ginny didn’t know whether Ron’s comment meant he liked having his own room or whether he was pleased that Hermione was arriving a day early. Smirking, she suspected it was both.

Ginny stared in wonder as she entered her own sitting room behind the Chaser painting. Never had she imagined the castle had private rooms such as these. Hugging herself with happiness, she ventured further into the suite towards the bedroom. It was everything she had ever wanted in a private room and in no time, she was unpacked and enjoying the view from her bedroom window when someone knocked on her door.

She opened it to find Harry standing there grinning at her. “Brilliant, aren’t they,” he commented, looking around her suite. “Mine’s just like it. Neville’s bedroom is connected to mine and we share a staircase to the Gryffindor common room. Who do you share connections with?”

“Both my extra doors connect with the empty room. I suppose I’ll be sharing with Hermione, then,” she answered. “I’m going to enjoy that.”

“Good. Shall we go see Neville’s green house before lunch?”

Ginny grinned. “Absolutely!”

It was really good to see Neville. He gave them and Ron a thorough tour of his private laboratory and proudly showed them a preview copy of The Healer’s Journal the editor had sent him that morning. Ginny was in awe of what she thought of as Neville’s private domain, and couldn’t help smiling at the fact that he looked so completely relaxed and at home surrounded by his beloved plants and experiments.

At one point, an alarm clock went off, making her jump. Neville smiled at her saying, “Time for lunch. We’ve got ten minutes to get up to the Great Hall.”

Lunch was delicious and before she knew it, she and the three boys were trudging down the drive towards the gates to meet Hermione, whose golden brown suntan contrasted with Ginny’s pale skin and smattering of freckles. Ginny felt a stab of jealousy which she immediately suppressed.

As soon as she stepped through the gates, Hermione launched herself at Ron, hugging him fiercely. Then turning to Ginny, she exclaimed, “Ginny, you’re not using your walking stick!”

Ginny grinned happily. “I don’t need it any more!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news,” Hermione said, throwing her arms around Ginny. Then, turning to Harry, she greeted him with a more reserved hug.

Harry embraced her with both arms. “I won’t break, Hermione. I’m completely healed,” he said as they broke apart.

“I’m so glad, Harry!” she exclaimed, turning to Neville.

Under Ron’s critical eye, Hermione quickly embraced their fellow Gryffindor. The five then trudged up to the castle, Harry carrying Hermione’s heavy bag with his left hand, where they spent the afternoon in the Gryffindor common room exchanging travel stories, planning their activities for the rest of the weekend. While the boys talked Quidditch, Hermione taught Ginny how to Transfigure an object into one of her surveillance dragons. She also taught her how to make the dragon fly and cause it to transmit information back to another object that had been transfigured into a crystal ball.

All too soon, Dobby appeared to inform them that dinner was in three-quarters of an hour and that they should use the time to dress. Dinner that night was to be a rather formal affair. Professor Dumbledore had sent notes with Dobby asking everyone to wear their best Muggle clothing, so Ginny put on one of the two sun dresses she had brought just in case. She sincerely hoped she didn’t look as if she were wearing second-hand clothes and was grateful to Harry, who let out a low whistle when she met him and the others at the statue.

Only one table was set up when Ginny, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione entered the Great Hall a few minutes later. It was round and set for fifteen. The adults were already seated and they greeted the young people with words of welcome. Ginny understood why Professors Dumbledore, Sprout, McGonagall and Flitwick were present as well as Madam Pomfrey, but she was surprised to find Neville’s grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, Healer Rodkey and, looking quite pompously official, her brother Percy at the table as well. Adding to her curiosity, two strangers–an older teenage boy and his mother–were seated between Healer Rodkey and Percy, who rose and held out her chair, much to Harry’s annoyance.

“We have gathered together to celebrate the achievements of a very talented student, Mr Neville Longbottom,” Professor Dumbledore announced once everyone was seated.

Neville’s ears began turning crimson.

“Without his dedication and perseverance, Miss Ginevra Weasley would not be with us this evening, nor would our guest, Mr Sheldon Wakefield. You see, Mr Wakefield is the second recipient of Mr Longbottom’s marvellous nerve regeneration potion. I am very happy to say that you, Mr Longbottom, have given the magical world a truly miraculous gift. The article detailing the potion’s discovery will be appearing in next month’s issue of The Healer’s Journal. In addition, the Ministry of Magic has awarded Mr Longbottom a grant of ten thousand galleons for further research on this subject. Mr Percy Weasley is here tonight representing Minister Scrimgeour. Mr Weasley...”

Percy rose stiffly from his chair. “Please stand, Mr Longbottom,” he requested. Neville did so and Percy continued, “On behalf of Minister Scrimgeour and the Ministry of Magic I present you with the nation’s highest civilian honour, the Paracelsus Humanitarian Award, and a thousand Galleons to further your research on Nerve Regeneration Potions. My family, the Wakefield family and healers around Great Britain are grateful for your contributions to Wizarding medicine.” He picked up his goblet and a wooden plaque that had been lying in front of his plate and walked round the table to Neville. He handed him the plaque and a large sack that clanked and raising the glass, he intoned, “To Neville Longbottom.”

Ginny stood up and raised her glass in salute to her friend, emotion flooding through her. She felt so grateful to Neville and so proud of the fact that his efforts were being recognised. But most of all, she was glad to call him her friend, because their friendship was what had brought about Neville’s desire to help her in the first place. Harry must have sensed something in her mood because just as the first tear slid silently down her cheek, he reached out and pulled her towards him in a wonderfully comforting, one-armed hug.

The rest of dinner was a blur of conversation and replacing of plates between each of the courses. Ginny remembered only scattered moments of it, such as Sheldon’s story of how Healer Rodkey had approached him in his room at St. Mungo’s and told him about Neville’s potion. She also recalled Percy’s stilted “It’s good to see you again, Ginevra.” However, the best moment by far came at the end of the meal when Augusta Longbottom stood regally from her place and came round the table to stand facing her grandson. “Neville,” she said, laying a wrinkled hand on his cheek, “you are everything your father was and much, much more. I couldn’t be prouder.”

“I can’t believe Gran said that to me,” Neville said to Ginny as they sat sipping cups of special after-dinner tea with Professor Dumbledore. It was nearly nine o’clock and the students were the only ones left at the table; the other teachers had escorted Neville’s gran, Percy and the Wakefields to the school gates once everyone had the opportunity to congratulate Neville. The headmaster seemed reluctant to leave the Great Hall and was entertaining his students by telling stories of the castle’s past. Finally, Hermione’s curiosity seemed to get the better of her and she raised her hand as if in class.

“Miss Granger, do you have a question?”

“Yes, Professor. I know that many people contributed to the Battle of Hogsmeade and that they were recognized at the end of term,” she began. “However, I don’t understand something. Why... er... why was Draco Malfoy given an award at the Leaving Feast? He wasn’t even there.”

Silence fell as everyone waited for Professor Dumbledore’s answer. Finally, he said, “You are referring to the Service to the School award and are wondering why someone like Draco Malfoy would receive such a thing?”

Hermione nodded.

“As surprising as it seems, Mr Malfoy did perform several services to our school including finding and protecting a group of five first years who had wandered close to the front gates and were caught in the Forbidden Forest when the pixies and Death Eaters began their attacks. He risked his life taking the students first to the Quidditch stadium and then back to the castle. His fellow Slytherins urged him to stay inside and finish the detention he was serving with Mr Filch, but he returned to the gates to defend the school. For his efforts with the first years, he earned a place on the Services to the School plaque.”

“But anyone could have done that!” Hermione protested becoming slightly agitated.

Ron whispered, “Calm down!” to which she responded, “I will not!”

“Yes, they could have and they did, Miss Granger, but what sets Mr Malfoy apart from the others in his peer group is that he has been accorded a second honour by the school Governors, the Distinguished Service Medal,” Professor Dumbledore continued over Hermione and Ron’s whispered argument.

Hermione and Ron stopped arguing abruptly. “Why? What did he do?” Ron asked, finding his voice first.

“When he returned to the gates, Mr Malfoy joined the other students defending the castle.”

“So what? Lots of people were trying to keep the Death Eaters out of the castle grounds,” Ron said.

“Yes, they did, but not everyone was put under Bellatrix Lestrange’s Cruciatus Curse,” Professor Dumbledore remarked matter-of-factly. “They also didn’t face Lucius Malfoy and refuse to join him in trying to destroy the school.”

“But Harry fought Mr Malfoy, Professor. I saw him!” Neville interjected.

“I realize that, but Harry wasn’t his son whom he was intent on trying to destroy. And although Harry’s battle with Lucius Malfoy left him injured, he wasn’t hurt internally by his father’s Disembowelling Curse as Draco was.” He paused as everyone sitting at the table shuddered. “Besides, Harry’s battle with Lucius Malfoy came much later in the day, after Draco was found by some seventh year Hufflepuffs.”

“Where was he taken?” Ginny asked quietly.

“At first Madam Pomfrey tended to him, but as soon as she stabilized him, he took a Portkey to a safer place,” Professor Dumbledore said, looking pointedly at Harry.

“How come we weren’t told this after the battle?” Harry enquired angrily.

“I shared Mr Nott’s and Mr Zabini’s plights with you, Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said calmly, “even if I didn’t include Mr Malfoy. Although, once you consented to letting Madam Pomfrey set up the recovery space, the three were immediately taken there to convalesce.” As Harry opened his mouth again, the headmaster said, “I am very thankful to you for providing a safe house for Mr Nott, Mr Zabini and Mr Malfoy. They are nearly recovered to the extent that they can be moved to a less restrictive environment.”

Harry closed his eyes and murmured, “You’re welcome, sir.” He pushed back his chair and walked away from the table a little way. When he came back two minutes later he was much calmer. Ginny reached for his hand under the table.

“Where will they go once they leave the safe house?” Hermione asked.

Professor Dumbledore held everyone’s gaze before he answered her. “Reunion with their families is out of the question due to various circumstances. The three will be coming to Hogwarts on the first of August. They will live in the Slytherin guest suites just as you five are staying in the Gryffindor suites.”

“So that’s it, then,” Harry remarked, looking resigned. “Neville and I will be sharing the castle with the Slytherins for the rest of the summer. Will they need time in the P-T Room?”

Professor Dumbledore said quickly, “You’ll need to talk with Madam Pomfrey about that, Harry. It is my opinion that you and Neville will not be in contact with your classmates unless it is absolutely necessary. As you know, this castle is rather large.” He cleared his throat. “Now, if Miss Weasley and Mr Longbottom will please excuse us, I have some things to discuss with Mr Weasley, Miss Granger and Harry for a few minutes before we go our separate ways.”

Surprised, Ginny glanced at Neville, who shook his head and began gathering up his things. They exited the Great Hall as quickly as they could, shutting the huge doors behind them.

“What was that all about?” Neville asked as they climbed the marble staircase. “Why can’t we know what Professor Dumbledore needs to discuss with Harry, Ron and Hermione?”

“I think he might be talking about Harry’s plans for getting rid of Voldemort,” Ginny answered.

“How do you know that?”

“Well, the last week before we left for the summer Harry was constantly meeting with Professor Dumbledore over something,” Ginny said cautiously.

“And we’re not supposed to know about it,” Neville finished for her.

“That’s what I understand. Harry’s been very concerned that I’m feeling left out because Professor Dumbledore asked him not to tell anyone but Ron and Hermione about their meetings,” she told him, stopping next to one of the suits of armour and leaning against its plinth. She looked up as she heard the creek of metal; the armour had cocked its helmet as if it was listening. “I’m all right with that, I suppose.”

Neville’s eyebrows rose towards his hairline. “You are?”

“The fewer who know Harry’s plans, the better, you know? Keeps him safe and if not knowing will bring him back all in one piece, I understand.”

“That makes sense, but I still feel a little left out,” Neville said, starting up the corridor again.

“Why?” Ginny asked, catching up to him.

“I don’t get it. All that duelling training we’ve been through has been to support Harry, right? If you, Luna and I aren’t going to be allowed to go with Harry on his searches for Voldemort, then what’s the point?”

Ginny stopped and blocked Neville’s way, her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you, Neville Longbottom!” she said heatedly. “Not after talking with Sheldon Wakefield tonight! He’s proof that your potion really works, because his injuries were very different from mine. Do you realize how much you’ve done already because of your role in supporting Harry?”

Neville shook his head, looking somewhat bewildered. “No,” he mumbled.

Ginny pressed on. “Sheldon and I have our lives back because Professor Dumbledore thought you had the potential to find things through your Herbology research which would help not only Harry but the rest of the Wizarding world... and he was right! Look at me!” She flung her arms wide. “I’m standing here because of something you developed! It may not affect Harry directly, but it surely will have an impact on those of us who will be hurt fighting Voldemort!”

“How...”

“Neville, there will be a lot of people with nerve damage due to spells and other battle injuries in the near future because they believe in fighting for the same freedom we do and they are all going to need your potion! I’d think you’d be really proud of your achievements!” she finished.

Neville had backed up a few steps while Ginny was speaking, “I am,” he said slowly. He gazed down at the plaque and money bag he carried, a slow smile lighting up his face. Finally, he said, “You sure know how to bring things into perspective, Ginny. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Neville,” Ginny said, smiling. “You’re welcome.”
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