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Grave Days | ||||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 153 Summary: Front page: THE DAILY PROPHET 4 May 1998 WHERE IS HARRY POTTER? Despite the Official Ministry Statement (published above) we are no closer to receiving an answer to the question on the lips of every witch and wizard in the country. Where is Harry Potter? It appears that Mr Potter left Hogwarts School early yesterday morning, apparently in the company of his close associates Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. An attractive young Ministry clerk, who did not wish to be named, told The Prophet “He’s at the Ministry, having an important meeting with the Minister. My friends and I saw him. He asked us out to the pub, but we had to turn him down.” This statement is at odds with a leaked report from the Portkey Office, which claims that Mr. Potter has fled the country, travelling to Australia with his companions. When asked about rumours that Mr Potter had been seriously injured and was being treated at a secret location, Acting Minister Shacklebolt said simply, "Nonsense." Hitcount: Story Total: 115237; Chapter Total: 7307 Author's Notes: Thanks (in alphabetical order to Amelíe, Andrea and Becca for their comments, corrections and input. Please review. Constructive criticism is always gratefully received. |
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14: Committals Hermione conjured half a dozen large cushions on Ron’s bedroom floor. Ron flopped gratefully onto three of them, shuffled sideways and patted the space next to him. Hermione sat, threw an arm over his chest, pushed a shoulder into his armpit and snuggled her head against his chest. Harry sank down into another of the cushions, propped one more against the wall behind his back and sat leaning against it. ‘What a bloody nightmare,’ Ron said; ‘d’you reckon we’re safe here?’ ‘I think so,’ Ginny said, curling up in Harry’s lap. ‘Between them, George and the cousins have finished off the booze, and Aunt Muriel’s complaints will start shattering someone’s eardrums soon. Mum is so busy looking after the relatives that it’ll be ages before she notices that we’re missing.’ ‘Half of the people down there didn’t even like Fred,’ said Ron furiously. ‘Half of the family, anyway–Cousin “I own my own business, you know” Gilbert!’ ‘Did you hear him?’ Ron continued, putting on a pompous voice, ‘“Such a shame, he was such a sweet-natured boy and so humorous” — the ignorant two-faced pillock. D’you know he told the twins that they were fools and that they’d never make any money from a joke shop.’ ‘D’you know that a couple of weeks after Bill and Fleur’s wedding they broke into his house and enchanted every set of robes he owned with a farting jinx,’ laughed Ginny in reply. ‘Every time he sat down … phthphthpt…’ she blew a raspberry. ‘He couldn’t get rid of the jinx, either. Fred and George offered to do it, for a price. He bought himself new robes rather than pay them. It cost him a fortune. They despised him, and he hated them, especially when they got so successful.’ Harry and Hermione laughed. ‘So why are we here?’ Ron asked. ‘You know why, Ron. The party’s over,’ Ginny told him. ‘George drank himself unconscious in record time. The DA and the Order left not long after he collapsed. The only people left outside are dreadful relatives who’ve outstayed their welcome and are constantly asking Harry stupid questions, like “is You-Know-Who really dead?” and then being annoyed by his answer.’ She smiled admiringly at her boyfriend. ‘Yeah,’ Ron grinned, ‘good one mate, it’s great watching them struggle when you say, “I don’t-know-who? Who are you talking about?” I thought Gilbert was going to choke trying to say Lord Voldemort. Most of them had outstayed their welcome within a few minutes of getting here, Ginny, but we could have just stayed in the kitchen.’ ‘Not with Bill in there,’ Harry said. ‘I’m fed up with the way he glowers whenever I do this.’ He hugged Ginny. ‘Not as fed up as he’s going to be when I’ve finished with him,’ Ginny announced. ‘Forget it,’ Harry told her, ‘he’ll get used to us eventually, and right now we need to decide what we’re going to do to help Hermione.’ ‘You can’t do anything,’ Hermione said sadly. ‘We can,’ Ginny replied. ‘When the last of the freeloaders have gone we’ll have a family conference. We’ve got something else to do first, though. I snuck this up here yesterday.’ She leaned over and placed her palm flat on one of the floorboards next to Ron’s bed. Pushing it under the skirting board, she revealed a hole from which she pulled a bottle of Firewhisky and four glasses. ‘What, how…’ Ron spluttered, ‘when…’ ‘I’ve known about your secret hiding hole since before you first went to Hogwarts, Ron,’ she grinned. ‘Mum only found it three years ago. I put the Firewhisky and the glasses here yesterday. I hid it here so that if Mum found it you’d be the one to get in trouble.’ Ron turned beetroot. ‘But…’ ‘Ron, there are more important things than your pathetic little-boy secrets. Though why you’ve been saving the fashion photos from Mum’s Witch Weekly I’ve no idea,’ Ginny told him. This revelation, coupled with Hermione’s giggle and smirk did not improve Ron’s colour. ‘What’s the Firewhisky for?’ Hermione asked, as she gave Ron a comforting hug. ‘Us! We’ve seen five people buried within less than twenty four hours,’ said Ginny forcefully. ‘I knew that Mum would restrict us all to butterbeer, though she failed spectacularly with George.’ ‘I wonder where he got all that Firewhisky,’ Ron asked curiously. ‘He bought it,’ Ginny said, ‘and Percy smuggled into the house and hid it in his bedroom.’ ‘Percy!’ Ron was astonished. ‘Perce is a good man to have on your side, Ron,’ Ginny told her brother with a grin. ‘If you’re clever, like George and me, it’s fairly easy to persuade him to do something that Mum won’t like. And the best thing about it is that she never ever suspects perfect prefect Percy.’ ‘Mum was sure that I was trying to pinch a bottle, too. Because I was,’ she admitted. ‘So I distracted her. While I did, Percy nicked this for me.' She waved the bottle of Firewhisky triumphantly. ‘We all need a drink. We’re all of age, so she can shout, but she can’t stop us.’ ‘Why do we need Firewhisky?’ Hermione asked. To remember, to toast the fallen,’ Ginny announced. She looked pale, worried and fragile, but was obviously determined. ‘We’ve got to remember that we’ve only been to five of the funerals. There has been ten times that number.’ Ginny twisted on Harry’s lap to face her brother and his girlfriend. ‘Ron, you’ve been so wrapped up in Hermione’s problems that you haven’t even asked Harry what he’s been doing while you were away. He and Kingsley went to see the families of everyone who was killed.’ Ron and Hermione looked at their friend for confirmation. Ashen faced, Harry looked over Ginny’s shoulder and nodded, his hands began shaking. The funerals were over and all he did not want to think about the other deaths. Would this ever be over? Would he ever be able to forget these past few days? Fragments of memories of the visits he’d made flashed through his mind. The bereaved relatives he’d visited were nothing more than a kaleidoscope of pale, red-eyed, featureless faces. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember any individuals, they all blurred into one. Ginny stood, poured a hefty measure into each of the four glasses and pulled him to his feet. Ron and Hermione stood, too. ‘Wait,’ Ginny told Ron fiercely, when he reached for a glass. She stared at her friends. ‘Fred’s dead, Colin’s dead, Lupin, Tonks, Snape, Dobby ... Some insensitive idiot downstairs said that the list of the dead was endless...’ she looked at Harry sorrowfully and hugged him. She knew that he’d heard that remark. ‘It was Cousin Jason,’ Ron told her, vengefully, ‘we’ll get him next time we see him.’ Ginny nodded as she pulled a Daily Prophet article from her robes. ‘The list isn’t endless.’ She waved the newspaper cutting in confirmation. ‘But a lot of people are dead, including a lot of people that we didn’t know.’ She looked down at the list. ‘Moira Campbell, Law Officer; John Jenkins, Law Officer; Tina Jackson, Secretary…’ Harry, Ron and Hermione stood in silence and watched as, fighting back tears, Ginny read out the names of the dead. ‘Amanda Atkins, Student, Cuthbert Cleverley, Auror,’ she concluded, taking a deep breath and looking at her brother, her best friend and her boyfriend. ‘There are a lot of people across the country grieving for their losses, just like us…’ Ginny stifled a sob. ‘…But you three, especially you, Potter,’ she pointed an accusing finger at him, ‘need to remember something!’ She clenched the list tightly in her fist and waved it in Harry’s face. ‘This is not the names of the people who died because of what you did. This is the list of names of the people who died despite what you did. If it weren’t for you, that list would be longer, and who knows who else’s names would be on it. It might even be endless. So, thank you. Now drink the damn Firewhisky.’ They did so; then fell into each others’ arms, crying. Harry and Ginny were still in a tight embrace on the cushions on the floor, as were Ron and Hermione, when Molly Weasley stormed into the room. She saw the Firewhisky first, but her accusing glare vanished when she saw first their tear-stained faces and then the list of names which lay unfurled on Ron’s bed. ‘Hi, Mum,’ said Ginny quietly, pushing herself up off Harry’s chest and standing. Molly Weasley watched as the four youngsters struggled slowly to their feet. Her breathing was slow and deep, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She picked up the Firewhisky bottle. ‘Pick up your glasses from the floor,’ she said sternly, ‘there could be an accident.’ She waited in silence while they obeyed. They watched Mrs Weasley carefully. All four were bracing themselves for the inevitable explosion of anger. It didn’t come. ‘We were just remembering,’ explained Ginny, hesitantly, obviously wrong-footed by her mother’s worrying lack of anger. ‘We’re going to miss Fred.’ ‘And Tonks,’ added Ron cautiously. ‘And Professor Lupin,’ Hermione said timidly. ‘And Dobby, and Colin and…’ Harry continued determinedly. ‘We will always miss them,’ Molly Weasley interrupted. She looked sadly from one to another of them. ‘You’re so young, to have had to go through this, to have done the things you have,’ she told them. ‘I still miss Gideon and Fabian; even after all these years I find that there are things that I want to tell them.’ Molly sighed, ‘I know that I’ve told you this before, Ginny, but they never saw their niece, never saw you. I was pregnant with you when they were killed.’ ‘I don’t think that there is anything that I can say to help you now. But I can give you some hope.’ Mrs Weasley continued. ‘It gets easier, it takes time, but it does get easier. But we’ll never forget those we’ve lost, will we?’ They shook their heads. Molly Weasley conjured another tumbler for herself and poured Firewhisky into everyone’s glasses. ‘You have toasted the recent dead?’ Molly asked as she looked at the list. They nodded. ‘Good, so now you can raise your glasses to Gideon and Fabian Prewett, to James and Lily Potter,’ she raised her glass, and watched them do the same. ‘To Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black and so many others. There have been so many deaths over the years. But this time it’s finally over.’ She drank her Firewhisky and watched them do the same. They stood in silence, watching each other, thinking, remembering, realising how much Molly had lost, how much so many people had lost. No one, it seemed, wanted to speak. The silence drifted on for over a minute until Mrs Weasley finally broke it. ‘Now, we need to move on. We need to remember what has happened,’ she said gently, before looking sharply at them, ‘but we mustn’t brood on it. We must live our lives to the full.’ ‘So,’ she continued, ‘we should go downstairs and eat. I’ve saved some cold meat pie. And then you can tell us all about the problem with your parents, Hermione. Come along, all of you. You may want to use the bathrooms on the way down, to tidy up.’ When the four finally descended, Charlie, Percy, Bill and Fleur were already sitting at the kitchen table. It was almost eight o’clock in the evening. The sink was stacked with dirty dishes, which were busily washing themselves, assisted by the occasional flick from Fleur’s wand. The table was laden with plates of pies and pasties. ‘I hope that there’s enough food,’ Molly said worriedly, ‘I didn’t put everything out for the wake, but there doesn’t seem to be very much left.’ ‘You won’t let us starve, Molly,’ Arthur Weasley said cheerfully as he came downstairs. ‘I’ve put a watching charm on George, I can’t rouse him. Best to let him sleep it off I think.’ Molly looked anxiously at her husband. ‘It’s probably best to leave him, Molly,’ advised Arthur. ‘We’ve said our goodbyes to Fred and the others, so has George. Now we’ve got a family to look after. A family which…’ Arthur took a deep breath and heaved a sorrowful sigh. His wife hurried across and hugged him. With an effort he continued. ‘…a family which, despite the loss of Fred, seems to be expanding.’ Arthur looked his eldest son in the eyes. ‘Which is a good thing,’ he emphasised. Fleur nodded and placed a hand over her husband’s clenched fist. ‘Help yourselves to food, dears,’ said Mrs Weasley. She watched as everyone, except Fleur and Hermione, piled food onto their plates. Fleur took one small slice of pork pie. Hermione took nothing. ‘You need to eat something, Hermione,’ Molly chided gently. She piled food on a plate and handed it to Hermione. ‘Make sure that she eats, Ron,’ his mother ordered. Over the meal, Ron and Hermione told the Weasleys what Hermione had done to protect her parents and what had happened in Australia. ‘What can we do to help?’ Ginny asked her mother when they finished the story. Molly and Arthur exchanged worried glances. ‘Er,’ Percy said. Everyone looked at him in amazement. ‘Obviously, you need to make up with your family, your parents,’ Percy began. Harry had never seen Percy look so nervous. ‘Obviously,’ Ron said sarcastically. Hermione simply nodded. With his left forefinger Percy pushed his glasses up his nose and began talking extremely quickly, his ears reddening as he spoke. ‘I’m sure that they are very nice people, because they have a very nice daughter. So they will want to make up with you no matter how stupid you’ve been and I don’t think that you’ve been as stupid as I was and it’s obvious that you want to make up with them so I think that the best thing for you to do is to do everything they ask of you until you can get things back to normal, if they’re reasonable and sensible you’ll be able to see Ron soon.’ Percy finally paused for breath, and everyone tried to make sense of his outburst. ‘What you’re saying,’ suggested Ron angrily, ‘is that Hermione should leave us, leave me, possibly for months!’ Percy nodded. ‘If her parents are reasonable and forgiving,’ he looked gratefully towards his own parents, ‘then they’ll talk things through and they’ll come to terms with the fact that she’s sorry for hurting them, but it’s not something an outsider can interfere with, not without making things worse.’ ‘But…’ Ron made a desperate plea. ‘Your bruzzer ees correct, Ron,’ confirmed Fleur. ‘If you love ‘er, you must let her do zis.’ She glanced apologetically at Mr and Mrs Weasley before bravely continuing. ‘Ze parents of one’s love can … sometimes … be difficult to deal wiz. You must give ‘Ermione time to make peace wiz ‘er parents, and to tell zem about you. Your arrival in Australia as a fait accompli will not ‘ave ‘elped. Zey need time alone wiz zere daughter, time to forgive, time to adjust. Forgive me, ‘Ermione, but I believe zat, in your ‘eart, you already know zis.’ Hermione nodded sadly and burst into tears. She was sitting next to Ron. Twisting awkwardly in her chair she threw an arm around his waist. He extricated an arm, slipped it over her shoulder and pulled her closer. Arthur Weasley exchanged a knowing look with his wife. He stood and put one hand on his youngest son’s shoulder, another on Hermione’s. ‘Sorry, Ron, but they are right. Anything we do would probably make things worse. If their daughter’s–boyfriend’s–family turn up to try to put things right, how will that look? To them, it will just be more interference by wizards.’ ‘What exactly are you supposed to do now, Hermione?’ asked Molly practically. Hermione lifted her tear stained face from Ron’s chest and sniffed. Ron handed her his handkerchief and pulled her back into a tight hug. ‘I’m to go home and get the house ready for their arrival,’ she said while wiping her tears. ‘I am meeting them at the airport the day after tomorrow. They have got a lot of luggage. They took everything they could with them.’ She burst into tears as she said the words and again buried her head in Ron’s chest. Harry only just caught her next words. ‘I told you Ron,’ she muttered into Ron’s robes. ‘I know that you want to help, that you all want to help, but Percy’s right, and so is Fleur. This is something I have to do alone.’ ‘What if they don’t want you to see me?’ Ron panicked. ‘They might want you to be a Muggle, to leave me … us.’ Hermione released him, stood and kissed him softly on the lips. ‘Ron,’ she said sadly, ‘they’ve always let me do what I want. I’ve missed holidays with them. I’ve spent a lot of time here, half of my summer holidays some years. I don’t want to lose them. It might take time, but Percy and Fleur are right. I need to spend time with them.’ ‘What if we all met them at the airport? We could carry their cases,’ Harry suggested. ‘You shouldn’t be alone when you go to meet them, and it won’t be easy for you to get their luggage back to…’ Harry stopped, he had, he realised, no idea where Hermione lived. ‘Itchen Worthy,’ Hermione said, ‘it’s near Winchester.’ ‘So you’d take the train to Winchester, Ron and Ginny and I could help get the luggage from the airport to … Waterloo?’ Harry guessed. ‘Do you think that will be all right, Hermione?’ asked Molly. ‘I don’t know,’ Hermione shrugged. The discussions lasted until ten o’clock, when Bill and Fleur were ready to leave. When they walked out into the yard Bill, to Harry’s surprise, shook his hand firmly then pulled him into a tight hug. ‘I know when I’m beaten, Harry,’ her eldest brother whispered, as he crushed Harry to him, ‘but you’d better treat our little Ginny right.’ He stepped away, bade everyone else a cheerful goodnight, and left with his wife before Harry could reply. The following morning, after a hearty breakfast, enjoyed by everyone but a white faced and shaking George, they prepared to leave for Hermione’s parents’ house. A worried Mrs Weasley extracted a promise from Percy and Charlie that they would take good care of George. From the wicked grins they exchanged when their mother wasn’t looking, Harry was sure that their definition of “taking care” was different to their mother’s. After walking up to the orchard, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Mr and Mrs Weasley Apparated to a field on the outskirts of Itchen Worthy. Their arrival startled a herd of cattle. ‘Ginny,’ Molly said in exasperation as Ginny once again disentangled herself from Harry and he removed his arm from around her waist, ‘you only need to hold onto his arm.’ ‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Ginny asked her mother scornfully. Arthur Weasley chuckled. Molly rounded on her husband. ‘Ravenclaw Tower,’ Arthur said with a wink. Molly smirked, but said nothing. Her children exchanged puzzled glances. ‘Don’t ask,’ Molly told Ginny. Hermione grabbed Ron’s hand and led them all out from behind a hedge and along the roadside into the village. Ginny slipped her arm around Harry’s waist and leaned her head against his shoulder as they followed. The main road was quiet and no-one paid any attention to the three rather shabbily dressed couples as they entered the village. After a five minute walk, they reached Hermione’s parent’s house. It was large when compared to number four Privet Drive and the Burrow, but small compared to the adjacent properties. A square red brick dwelling with a separate garage block, it was set well back from the road. The garden was untidy. Weeds choked the borders; the lawns were overgrown and were infested with dandelions and daisies. ‘The place has been checked out by the Aurors,’ Hermione reassured everyone. ‘Kingsley told you. We know, you’ve told us dozens of times already,’ said Ron, exasperatedly. Hermione led them down the long gravel drive to the front door. She pulled a key from the pocket of her jeans, opened the door, and gasped. The house had been searched, ransacked. Someone had written “Mudblud” in what Harry hoped was red paint on the hall walls. A check of the rest of the house revealed torn curtains and bedding, broken furniture and other random acts of vandalism. After the inspection Hermione was once again in tears. ‘I was afraid of this,’ Arthur Weasley observed grimly. ‘All that “checked by the Aurors” means is that there are no cursed items, dark magic or traps. They don’t bother about the aesthetics of the place. I’ll have words with Robards, and Kingsley if necessary, when I get back to work.’ ‘Don’t worry, dear,’ Molly told Hermione kindly as they returned to the hall, ‘there’s nothing here that can’t be repaired, though it will likely take us all day. We’ll take a room each and get to work.’ Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him towards the bottom of the stairs. ‘Arthur and I will do the bedrooms,’ Molly said sharply. ‘Fine,’ said Ginny, ‘that sofa looks comfortable, c’mon, Harry, we’ll make a start in there!’ ‘Ginny,’ Molly scolded, ‘will you please behave yourself? There’s a lot to do before Hermione’s parents get home tomorrow. I can always take you back to The Burrow and leave you there.’ ‘Sorry, Mum,’ said Ginny contritely, ‘I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise.’ ‘Arthur, will you put that plug down!’ ‘Yes, dear,’ Mr Weasley reluctantly obeyed. Ginny watched her parents walk upstairs, dragged Harry into the living room, and kissed him. ‘Ginny,’ Molly Weasley shouted from the top of the stairs, ‘we’re here to work, to help Hermione. I want to hear you working.’ The next day, as they finished their breakfast at the Burrow, Harry told Ginny that he would buy her some Muggle clothes as a belated sixteenth birthday present. As he expected, she argued, claiming that she had never bought him a proper present. ‘My seventeenth birthday present from you was the best present I’ve ever had,’ he assured her with a smile. ‘And I couldn’t repay you on your sixteenth. So don’t argue.’ ‘Good luck with that,’ Ron snorted. ‘I wouldn’t dream of arguing with my boyfriend,’ Ginny told Ron dismissively as she walked upstairs. ‘I’m going to get ready to go out.’ Molly shooed the others away from the table and sent them upstairs to get ready, too. Harry was on his way downstairs from Ron’s room when Ginny collared him. She grabbed his arm urgently and dragged him into her bedroom. Bright spring sunshine illuminated the room. She stepped back and looked up into his eyes. He found himself falling into her gaze, picking up the tiny flecks of gold and amber within the rich brown of her eyes. He was disappointed by what happened next. ‘I wasn’t going to give Ron the satisfaction of being right,’ she whispered urgently. ‘But I don’t want your money, Harry.’ ‘I want to buy you something,’ protested Harry, wondering why he hadn’t expected the stubborn Weasley pride to surface in Ginny, too. ‘We’ll need decent Muggle clothes if we’re going to meet Hermione’s parents. I have lots of money, too much probably. I want to treat you. I want to share everything with you.’ Ginny hesitated. She was about to argue, she folded her arms and gave him her best “Molly” glare. ‘Listen to me, Harry,’ she began in a voice so like her mother’s that Harry began to laugh. ‘No, Ginny, you listen to me, and don’t interrupt,’ Harry told her forcefully. ‘Wait until I’m finished before you try to scold me.’ ‘I’m not scolding you,’ Ginny protested. Harry gently placed a finger on her lips. To his amazement, she fell silent. ‘Ron is the same, you know,’ he told her. ‘I’ve managed to persuade him to accept a loan until payday, but he won’t take a gift. ‘He thinks I’m feeling sorry for him, being “charitable,” when I offer to buy things. I’m not, Ginny,’ continued Harry, desperately trying to explain to his girlfriend. ‘I … I had nothing until I started at Hogwarts. I wore second hand clothes. I had no toys, I never got anything new. I know that it’s no fun not having any money. Now I’m rich, so what?’ He paused, Ginny did not speak, but she continued to frown. Harry took a deep breath and finally admitted something he’d known for years but never spoken of. ‘I don’t want the money, Ginny–you complain about your Mum and Dad, but…’ He couldn’t continue. Ginny’s disapproving frown faded. ‘But I’d rather have my Mum and Dad than all the money in the world,’ Ginny announced. ‘Oh, Harry,’ she hugged him, ‘so would you.’ She held tightly him as his tears fell. ‘Why now?’ he sniffed, ‘after all these years, why am I crying about them now?’ ‘Because you can, Harry, because finally, the monster who killed them is gone.’ They stood, simply holding each other. Harry felt her heart beating against his ribs and realised that she could feel his, too. She was prepared to hold him until his heart rate returned to normal. He looked over her head, out into the morning sunlight. Behind him, the door banged open. ‘Put her down, Harry,’ Ron sniggered as he burst into the room. ‘It’s time to go.’ Harry dared not turn. He couldn’t let Ron see his tear stained face, so he stared out of the window. Ginny peered past him. She said nothing, and Harry couldn’t look at her face without letting Ron see his tears, but whatever she did worked. Ron backed out of the room saying, ‘I’ll just tell Mum that you’ll be five minutes.’ ‘You can buy me some things,’ Ginny conceded, while Harry dried his face and blew his nose. ‘I will decide what you can pay for and if I buy more, you can lend me money until my first payday, like you’re doing for Ron.’ They used the Floo Network to travel from The Burrow to the Leaky Cauldron, as Harry needed to get more money from his Gringott’s account. After quickly saying hello to Hannah Abbott, they entered Diagon Alley. The place was still in poor repair, but several shops had reopened. It was still early, and there were very few people on the street when they entered Gringotts. Harry quickly changed two hundred and fifty galleons into Muggle money. When they left the bank there was a crowd outside. They cheered. Cameras flashed. Harry watched the crowd anxiously while Ron grinned happily and waved. ‘Mr Potter,’ someone shouted, ‘I’m from the Daily Prophet, I’d like to ask you a few questions.’ When the reporter moved the entire crowd surged forwards with him. Ron cast a protection spell to keep them back. ‘We’ve got to go,’ Ron shouted to the crowd. ‘Let’s get out of here, quick,’ he ordered. Ginny and Hermione grabbed Harry’s hands and hurried him back along the street towards the Leaky Cauldron. Ignoring the pointing fingers and shouted greetings, they rushed into the pub and hurried straight through without stopping. Once they had achieved the relative peace of Muggle London, they slowed down and checked to see if they were being followed. ‘Damn,’ said Harry. ‘Thanks, Ron.’ ‘No problem, mate,’ Ron smiled. ‘Let’s get out of here before anyone comes to look for us.’ They hurried along Charing Cross Road to Shaftesbury Avenue. At Piccadilly Circus, Harry and Hermione led Ron and Ginny onto Regent Street, where they began their shopping. Harry bought a wide selection of Muggle clothes, all of which met Ginny’s approval. Ron relied on Hermione for advice. Consequently, his clothes were more conservative than Harry’s. Ginny insisted on Harry’s approval for everything she bought. This caused Harry a lot of problems. He thought that she looked wonderful no matter what she was wearing, so he had serious difficulty deciding which items he preferred. Ron’s opinions differed from Harry’s. He thought that one of Ginny’s skirts was completely unacceptable. Harry suspected that Molly would agree; it showed a lot more of Ginny than he’d seen before. Hermione had not bought much, but she had purchased a dress which was equally as short as Ginny’s skirt. Ginny pointed out vociferously to her brother that he had not objected to Hermione’s buy. When Hermione sided with Harry and Ginny, Ron finally realised that his attempts to influence his sister were doomed. Their shopping done; they changed into the smartest, and most sober, of their new clothes and stowed the rest into Hermione’s beaded bag, which was then placed in Ginny’s new handbag for safekeeping. Wandering into the edge of Soho looking for somewhere to eat, they found an Italian Restaurant. Their lunch was excellent, but was rather spoiled by Hermione, who was getting more and more anxious. The others wanted to relax and enjoy the meal, but Hermione, who was getting more pale and nervous as her parents arrival time approached, would not allow it. Eventually, in a near panic, Hermione paid the bill and rushed them from the restaurant to the nearest tube station. ‘We’ve got plenty of time, Hermione,’ Harry told her as she herded them back towards Piccadilly Circus. As he looked into her anxious face, he knew that there was no point in arguing. Ron winked at Harry and took Hermione’s hand. ‘I’m sure we’ll get there on time,’ Ron assured her. Hermione muttered something under her breath and dragged them into the tube station. Ron and Ginny were horrified by the crush and bustle on the tube. Harry was proved correct; they arrived at Heathrow more than an hour before Hermione’s parents’ flight was due. They waited in a crowded caf near the arrivals area, drinking tasteless coffee from paper cups. The two purebloods, unused to Muggle bustle, sat nervously in the bustling airport. Ron grumbled under his breath at the crowds. Ginny watched them in uneasy fascination. As the plane’s landing time approached, Hermione began pacing and resumed her muttering. She checked and re-checked the train tickets which would take her and her parents home. As she paced, she nervously shredded a paper napkin. She was only just prevented from shredding the train tickets by an observant Ron, who’d been watching her with increasing concern. He confiscated the tickets; then refused her subsequent appeals to check that he still had them. The flight landed just in time to prevent an argument. The four teenagers made their way to the Arrivals Gate. They waited for almost half an hour before Hermione’s parents arrived. Mr and Mrs Granger were brown-skinned and appeared healthy, but both looked exhausted. Hermione burst into tears when she saw them and ran to hug her weeping mother. Harry, Ron and Ginny moved forward shyly and re-introduced themselves. ‘We know that you’ve told Hermione no magic,’ said Harry, ‘so we came to help her. You have a lot of luggage and you still have a long way to go. We will help you get your luggage to the station and onto your train and then leave, if that’s all right.’ For a moment, Harry thought that Mr Granger might argue, but after a whispered conversation with his wife, Hermione’s father agreed. Harry, Ron and Ginny, as they had planned, carried Mr and Mrs Granger’s luggage from the airport. They stood with the luggage near the doors of the crowded tube train while Hermione sat opposite her parents. She was tearful for most of the journey. They rattled along on the underground, changed at Green Park and disembarked at Waterloo. At the railway station, Harry and Ron sweated and struggled up the stairs with the cases. Upon reaching the concourse, they discovered that the next train to Winchester was leaving in twenty minutes. Harry took the opportunity to speak to Hermione’s parents. ‘I’d like to apologise,’ he began, ‘for what you went through this last year. Hermione thought that she was acting for the best. She’s a good friend. She saved my life on more than one occasion. If there is anything I can do for you … we can do for you … anything at all, please just ask.’ ‘What’s done,’ Mr Granger said slowly, ‘is done: and it can’t be undone. You know, I expect that we have a six week holiday booked. Hermione keeps secrets from us, but she seems to tell you everything.’ At this remark, Hermione again burst into tears. ‘Our holiday was supposed to be for the end of her final year,’ her father continued as his wife embraced their daughter. ‘It now looks like she will be back at that school in September.’ ‘Thank you for helping with our luggage, but we’d like some time alone with Hermione,’ he said firmly. ‘I understand,’ Harry nodded. ‘I’m truly sorry. Goodbye,’ he shook Mr and Mrs Granger by the hand, hugged Hermione tightly and kissed her cheek. While Ginny did the same, he watched Ron, who looked as though his heart was breaking. This didn’t surprise Harry. There was no doubt that it was. Recalling his own separation from Ginny, Harry squeezed his friend’s shoulder sympathetically. After shaking Mr and Mrs Granger’s hands, Ron kissed Hermione on the lips. Hermione, to Ron’s pleasure but discomfort, prolonged the kiss for as long as she could. She only stepped away when her father cleared his throat noisily. ‘Bye Hermione,’ sighed Ron, ‘I’ll telephone you, if I’m allowed.’ He looked hopefully at Hermione’s parents. Mr Granger looked impassive, but with a tear in her eye, Mrs Granger gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘Bye, Hermione, bye Mr and Mrs Granger,’ Ginny and Harry chorused as they turned and left. Ron said nothing, he was crying. Ginny put her arm around her brother and hugged him. Harry walked ahead, pretending that he hadn’t noticed Ron’s distress. |
| Reviews 153 |
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