This chapter is full of action. All of our favourite characters feature in at least one section, so those of you who are wondering about what’s happening with a certain character, now will know how he or she is doing.
When she first read the chapter, Melindaleo was concerned that in the first section Harry had sat up with enough energy to jump out of bed and start doing magic. That’s not what’s happened. All he’s done is open his eyes and ask a question. After six weeks in a coma, he’s very weak and still needs his Healers’ care. I appreciate Melindaleo’s concern for Harry as well as her other comments as I do those of Brennus, Mutt N Feathers, and Cackling Stump.
I also look forward to any reviews you, my readers, wish to share with me. As many of you know, I always write back.
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A Time for Healing | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:None Genres: Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 211 Summary: In the early summer of 2005 Ginny Weasley watches a lone figure walk past her window. She sets a bouquet of flowers on her window sill. Will the young man she’s set them out for understand what she’s saying with flowers? Hitcount: Story Total: 30560; Chapter Total: 1475 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Chapter 15 With an audible pop, the Healers’ Shield Spells dissolved, rendering them astonished and speechless. Hermione gasped, “Harry!” and then launched herself at him, grabbing him in a fierce hug that threatened to strangle him. “Oh, Harry! I’m so glad you’re all right,” she gushed. “I’ve been so worried!” Harry patted her on the back. “You don’t have to worry any more, sis,” he told her, using the sobriquet they had become accustomed to during the Horcrux hunt. “I’m all right.” His voice cracked on the last word and his throat hurt as he forced himself to talk. “But how? You’ve been doing accidental magic, acting out what you’re dreaming, and calling people’s names for the last six weeks, ever since I brought you here,” Hermione told him as Neville held a glass of water and a straw to his lips. Harry sipped eagerly, grateful that his friend had anticipated his need for water. “We thought you’d finish the last battle and blow up the hospital as you cast your last spell,” she concluded. “I heard you talking to someone a while ago. You were concerned about the safety of others, so I tried to back off and be in better control,” Harry admitted, glad the water had soothed his throat. “That’s good of you, mate,” spoke up Neville. “Hermione was also concerned that you’d wake up as mean and ornery as you did last time. What’s different?” Harry was silent for a long time, making Hermione think that he didn’t want to tell them. Finally, he said, “It was Ginny, and knowing that I had found the love that Voldemort was trying to deny me. I had her love for six months…” Hermione batted at a tear that slid down her cheek before she could stop it. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry you had to Obliviate her,” she whispered. “It couldn’t be helped, what with the Statute and all,” Harry mumbled to the ceiling. He sighed deeply, his expression bleak. “I just hope she doesn’t think too badly of me, what I made her think.” “Miss Granger, Mr Longbottom, I know you want to bring Mr Potter up to date on what has been happening, but I need to get some initial readings on Mr Potter’s health, the sooner the better,” interrupted one of the Healers. Hermione and Neville quickly stood. “We’ll see you in an hour,” she told Harry, and quickly grabbed Neville’s hand and pulled him from the ward. * Harry lounged against his headboard, propped up by several pillows, leafing through a Muggle newspaper that Hermione had saved for him. He had asked specifically for the Muggle news because anything the Daily Prophet had to say was mostly sensationalism; it hadn’t improved one iota since the war ended, mostly because Rita Skeeter and others like her were still printing what he considered rubbish rather than real news. He turned a page and found the business section. While he really wasn’t all that interested in the stock market, he did know that his investment portfolio through Gringotts included some Muggle holdings that his father had made years ago. He checked the listings and was pleased to see that they were doing well. Harry turned another page and gaped at a headline: Why does that company sound familiar? Harry asked himself. He read through the article quickly. The company had gone bankrupt just a week ago, leaving most of its employees without jobs or salaries or even their pensions. When he reached the part of the article that summarized some of the company’s past successes, one of the video game titles triggered his memory. Oh, yeah, Ginny’s brother, Ron, worked there! He recalled that Ron was the brother who had hurt Ginny so badly and for a brief moment, he thought that Ron had reaped what he deserved. Then, he thought again; no one, not even Ron, deserved to be sacked because of management wrongdoing, and to be happy about someone losing their job was just plain callous. Harry re-read the article, now concerned about Ginny’s brother. Had Ron been able to get another job yet? Was he relying on family for support? Had Ginny reconciled with Ron enough to be willing to help him, because Harry knew that was the kind of person Ginny was. Harry gathered the business sections from several papers and stacked them in chronological order with the most recent at the bottom and began tracking Video Visions’ downward spiral into bankruptcy. When Hermione joined him after dinner, Harry had a very good idea of what had happened and how it affected the employees. He also had the beginnings of a plan that he was as yet unwilling to share with Hermione or anyone else. * It took a week for the owl he’d sent to Gringotts to come back with an answer and by that time, Harry had been released from hospital with many promises not to do any more magic. The bird now perched on the back of one of the kitchen chairs at Grimmauld Place, eying him imperiously before sticking out its leg so that he could take the letter it carried. The message was short and to the point. Griphook expressed the bank’s relief that Harry was once again at home and that a lesser-ranking goblin, knowledgeable in Muggle monetary affairs, would call on Harry at half past two the following day, a most unusual occurrence for the goblins. In spite of himself, Harry felt rather privileged; wizards were expected to go to the goblins and not the other way around. Grinning, he quickly scribbled his reply and gave it back to the owl, which took off immediately. Harry was in a very good mood when Hermione joined him for dinner that evening. “What are you so happy about?” she inquired as she hung her coat on the coat tree by the front door. “I’ve had a relatively easy day, I didn’t mess up the new recipe I tried for dinner, and I’m happy you could come to spend the evening with me,” he replied. Then, he added, “It’s just good to be in my own home and away from pestering Healers. What about you?” “I had a good day, too, Harry,” she replied. They traded small talk as he dished up their meal and she set the table. When they were settled, Harry asked, “Do you have any news about Ginny?” Hermione paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. “What do you want to know?” she asked, sounding cautious. Harry immediately pounced on her tone. “Have you seen her?” he asked hopefully. Hermione set her fork back on her plate. “I’ve seen her twice,” she replied, not looking at him. “Once on the day I took you to St Mungo’s and then about three weeks ago when I was out for a walk.” “What was she doing that second time? Was she out for a walk, too? Going to work, coming home from work? What was her mood? Was she with someone or by herself?” Harry fired the questions in such rapid succession that Hermione began to giggle. “What’s so funny?” “If that’s what I sound like when I’m talking to you, I now understand why you get so annoyed at me sometimes,” she said. She picked up her fork again. “Oh, sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. He waited a few seconds while Hermione finished chewing. “Well?” “Well, what?” “What about Ginny?” “Oh, her. She seems… to be doing all right.” “Meaning…” Harry leaned forward over his plate. “We didn’t speak, if that’s what you’re asking. I was across the street, walking past her flat. She was standing on her doorstep, talking to a red-haired man, saying good-bye to him, actually.” “Did she sound angry? Friendly?” “Friendly. Apparently, he’d spent the night on her sofa so that he could go to an interview. She invited him back.” Harry thought this over. Had Ron apologized? It sounded as if he and Ginny had reconciled. “Did she say anything about a new boyfriend? Any dinner dates? Did she say his name?” Hermione laughed again. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think your name was Lavender,” she chortled. “Lavender? Why?” Harry asked, a little chagrined. Lavender Brown had been the biggest gossip in all of Hogwarts when Harry was in school. She and her best friend, Parvati Patil, were just as brave as the rest of Gryffindor House, but with the added component that if there was something to be learned about the latest fashion, who had detention and why, or who was going out or breaking up with whom, those two were the ones in the know. Harry had been on their top ten most-talked-about list more times than he could count and just the mention of Lavender and her list made him cringe. “Think about what you asked me,” Hermione said. “Oh. I guess I do sound like Lavender.” He felt his face heat up. “I’ll let you off the hook just this once, Harry,” Hermione said, seeming to take pity on him. “The only thing I heard her say was that Ron was to say hello to someone called Patty. They hugged and then he drove off. I waited until the flat door shut to cancel my Disillusionment Charm. “Why do you want to know so much about Ginny? You were the one to push her away.” Harry sighed and ate a few bites before answering. “I’m still in love with Ginny,” he admitted quietly. Hermione reached across the table. “Of course, you are, Harry. I won’t be surprised if it takes you a very long time to move on from her because once you love someone, you give your whole heart. You gave Ginny your heart and she hurt you deeply when she didn’t believe you,” she said gently. “Harry, I will listen any time you need to talk about her or your relationship.” Harry closed his eyes, trying his best to push Ginny’s image from his mind’s eye. He knew he wasn’t ready to talk about her without falling into a pit of despair, but maybe doing some nice things for her family would assuage his guilt a little and make living with the consequences of his actions a little more bearable. “Thanks, Hermione. I may take you up on that offer some day,” he said, and changed the subject to something that had no chance of depressing him for the rest of the evening. * Ron sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen of his computer. He’d just sent off two more applications in the hope of getting an interview. Waiting to hear back from the human resource departments of the companies he applied to was the worst part of looking for a job. It sometimes took over a week to get a reply, so he was resigned to more waiting with these new applications. He sincerely hoped that they wouldn’t turn out to be rejection letters. In the meantime, he was driving up to Bristol tomorrow to interview with an internet security firm. While his concentration at university had been coding video games, his parents and advisor had insisted he branch out and learn technical coding … just in case. He now fully understood the meaning of “just in case” and he needed to thank his parents for their sage advice. He had a plan… if a tech firm hired him, he could stay in the job maybe five years and then see what the video game world was in need of by way of coders. However, at this point, he couldn’t be choosy about which type of firm chose him… he just plain needed a job! He rubbed his face and left his desk in search of something to eat. He found a bag of crisps on top of his refrigerator and took it back to the living room, picking up his telly remote and sitting down on his sofa. He didn’t turn the telly on, though, because he’d just seen the photo of Ginny he’d put on his entertainment centre next to a photo of Fred and George. It had been nice to see her again. The time they’d spent together the night before his interview had been enjoyable; they’d reconnected a little more, reminisced about Fred, talked about their futures. The fact that his sister had invited him back meant a lot after what he’d done. He also worried about her. Something didn’t feel right about the breakup of her engagement. It was plain as day to him that she still loved the bloke. He hadn’t mentioned it, but she’d called out for Harry in her sleep. Was having dreams about your ex normal? Or was it her brain’s way of helping her get over the breakup? There seemed to be an unresolved issue that was probably at the root of her dreams. Ron didn’t know if this notion was true, but he wasn’t going to meddle as he might have done in the past. With a tired sigh, he shut down his computer, turned off the light and headed for his bedroom, leaving the empty crisp bag on the end table. Maybe tomorrow would bring something better than rejection letters and bills he was having trouble paying. * The Gringotts goblin, who introduced himself as Gemrok, popped into existence in Harry’s entrance hall precisely at half past two. Harry was waiting for him and after they exchanged greetings, led him up to the library where he had set up a table with magical chairs that adjusted so that the two parties were of equal height. (Sirius’ portrait had told Harry where to look for the chairs in the attic. Apparently, Orion Black had used the chairs when negotiating his own financial deals during Sirius’ youth. Gemrok seem familiar with their concept, and although he didn’t comment, it seemed to Harry that he appreciated their use.) “What is it that you wish us to do?” asked Gemrok, getting down to business right away. “I am interested in helping a Muggle who has fallen on hard times,” Harry explained. “He is the brother of my former fiancé.” “If she is your former fiancé, why do you want to help her family?” Gemrok asked. “You’ve had a falling-out, severed your ties with those people. Why should their troubles be any of your business?” “I am still deeply in love with the woman I Obliviated,” Harry admitted after several seconds. “I hurt her when I obeyed the Statute of Secrecy and changed her memory of our conversation about magic, but if I can somehow help her family, I’ll give her one less thing to worry about.” Gemrok eyed him shrewdly. “You’re doing this to assuage your sense of guilt.” Harry sighed. “I suppose I am, but I still want to help her family.” The goblin scowled. “Very well. What do you wish Gringotts to do?” “The Muggle, Ronald Weasley, is deeply in debt with student loans he is currently unable to pay due to losing his job. I wish to pay his debts anonymously and then funnel any payments he makes into a Building Society savings account. I know this is a very complicated thing to ask, but I am confident that Gringotts can make my request happen.” Gemrok was silent for a few moments, then he said, “Paying down Mr Weasley’s debt is easy enough to do, but convincing the Muggle government that he still needs to pay what he owes will be much more complicated due to various rules.” “What do you mean?” Harry asked, genuinely curious. “Student loans are part of the Muggle government,” Gemrok said. “Once a student graduates and gets a job the amount owed is recorded on an employee’s payslip and an agreed upon amount is deducted each month. Should the employee lose his job, the payments stop being deducted. When the loans are repaid, a closing statement is issued by the Muggle government.” “That complicates things… I don’t suppose Mr Weasley will be getting monthly payslips once he severs his association with the company he works for,” Harry stated, thinking fast. “You are correct, he won’t, but he will still have to prove that he is either unemployed or earning below the quoted rate each year to be exempted from paying back his student loans,” Gemrok reiterated. “So,” Harry said slowly as he worked out another plan of action in his head, “if he doesn’t receive notice that his loan is being repaid each month, it may take him a while to discover what’s being done.” Gemrok smiled. “That is very true, Mr Potter, and depending on how fast you wish to repay Mr Weasley’s debt, he may not receive his closing statement for a year or more.” Harry leaned back in his chair, turning over this new plan in his head. He actually liked it better because it eliminated a number of factors including intercepting the closing statement. He could then concentrate on the second plan he was hatching to help Ron. “It’s been nearly a month since Mr Weasley’s company went bankrupt,” Harry said as he leaned forward. “Enough time has passed that he has definitely received his last payslip. How do we proceed with repaying his loans so that he doesn’t discover they’ve been repaid until he does his taxes next year?” “Very good, Mr Potter,” Gemrok began, “I suggest the following…” When Gemrok left Grimmauld Place an hour later, Harry descended the stairs to the kitchen in search of a celebratory butterbeer. Things had worked out quite nicely, if he said so himself. * Ginny sat up in bed, sleepy and a bit muddled. She had just awoken from yet another dream about Harry for the second time this week. She didn’t know whether to be comforted or extremely annoyed because after all this time, shouldn’t she be getting on with her life and not dreaming about her ex? The thing was, every dream like this she had seemed to be hinting at something that was just out of reach, but what it was, she had absolutely no clue. In tonight’s dream, she’d been back in the house with the talking portraits. She’d stopped to have her usual conversation with the five animated people who kept telling her how wonderful they thought it was that she was in love with Harry. Then, she carried on up the stairs and towards the library. On the way, she’d peeked into Harry’s bedroom for the first time. It was a typical man’s room, mostly bare walls and utilitarian furniture. However, one thing had caught her attention and that was a red and gold triangular pennant with the word “Gryffindor” on it. Underneath the word were six more words, but she could only make out the first three, “Hogwarts School of…” The other three were faded enough that she couldn’t make them out from where she stood. Shrugging, she had turned and entered the library where Harry had greeted her. They talked about her family for a while, mostly about Ron, before she left the house, promising the portraits that she would be back as she always did. Slipping out of bed, Ginny wandered into her kitchen and put the kettle on. After one of these dreams, she was always awake for at least an hour. It was as if the dreams compelled her to sit and ponder them until they were satisfied that she realized what she needed to know from the “episode.” Tonight’s dream seemed to be hinting at the sort of school Harry had gone to before he joined the Army. Ginny sipped her tea as she turned on her laptop and chose the search engine. When the page appeared, she typed in “Hogwarts School” and waited for the results of her search. What came up was a ridiculous list of civil service announcements on how to cure hog’s warts. There was nothing about a school of something or other. Next, she tried “Gryffindor.” The closest article turned out to be an advert for a hotel in America called the Griffin’s Door Inn and Spa. “Figures,” she muttered, and turned off her computer. “Everything about that man is charmingly maddening.” She finished her tea, put her cup in the dish washer and went back to bed. As she slipped under the covers, she wondered what else Harry had lied to her about now that she knew this Hogwarts School didn’t exist. Or did it? He’d seemed so sincere when he told her something was real… She punched her pillow, frustrated by how thoughts of Harry kept inserting themselves into her subconscious and forcing her to lose valuable sleep. She needed to be asleep… now: Tomorrow would be another busy day and she needed to be well rested to deal with some of her patients. * Harry had his first appointment with Madam Pomfrey early in the morning two weeks after he was released from St Mungo’s. As he was feeling fit and healthy, he went alone, for he saw no reason to bother Hermione. The first thing Madam Pomfrey said as he stepped out of her fireplace was, “Where’s Hermione? Doesn’t she usually come with you?” Harry shrugged. “She had a big meeting today that she’s been going on and on about for the last ten days that conflicted with this appointment, so I came alone. I’ll clue her in on your results when we have dinner together tonight,” he told her. Looking around the ward, he spotted a curtained-off area at the far end of the room near the tall windows. “That for me?” he asked. “Yes, you know the drill,” Madam Pomfrey told him as she handed him a set of pyjamas. He took them and headed quickly down the ward, eager to avoid stares from the students recuperating in the other beds. Several minutes later, she rapped lightly on a curtain frame surrounding his bed before stepping around it. Harry was now clad in the blue-and-white-striped uniform of a Hogwarts convalescent. He grinned at her. Madam Pomfrey conjured a tall stool and leaned against it while consulting the parchment on her clipboard. “Hmmm, you were released from hospital a fortnight ago with promises to not do any magic. Where is your wand?” Harry pointed to his trousers. “I made Hermione give it back to me. I carry it with me now, but I haven’t used it. I feel more secure with it on my person, even though I know I can’t use it. I’m sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but I just can’t put it back in my wardrobe,” he said. “Harry, please call me Poppy,” Madam Pomfrey said. “You’ve been coming to me since you left school and it’s high time you treated me like a colleague rather than a one of the auxiliary staff. “Now, with that out of the way, I quite agree that you should continue carrying your wand. You left St Mungo’s with your magic reserves nearly back to where they were at your last check-up. While you ‘leaked’ magic while in the coma, the Healers at the hospital think that was your body’s way of discharging the extra magic that you didn’t use up casting spells. That makes me wonder if it isn’t time for you to start using magic a few times each day to build up your reserves a bit faster to get rid of your excess energy and build up your tolerance,” she finished. Harry grinned. “What sort of spells are you thinking I should be doing?” he asked, rather excited with the prospect of getting to act like the wizard he was. “Low level spells. Warm your tea if it gets cold. Turn on your lights. Lock and unlock your doors. Set your dishes to washing themselves, that sort of thing. Absolutely nothing high powered. If you cast a spell and feel it drain your magic, or feel light-headed or dizzy, don’t do it again or you’ll land yourself back in hospital faster than you’d think. I’d say that any first year spell would be enough to start with,” she said, smiling. Harry’s grin widened. “I can do that,” he replied excitedly. Poppy stood up and took a small quill from her apron pocket. With a sigh, she began her usual inquisition. “How are you feeling today?” Harry answered truthfully, “I’m feeling fit and healthy.” “Very good,” she murmured. “Any pain?” “None.” “Headaches?” “No ne.” “Pain in your chest or abdomen?” “None.” “Any dizziness?” “None.” “How’s your appetite?” “About average for me.” “Are you eating more or less than you did the last two days you were in hospital?” “More.” “Excellent.” She waved her wand at him. “You’ve gained some of the weight you lost while in hospital,” she commented, sounding pleased. She then proceeded to ask Harry several rather embarrassing questions about his bodily functions, all of which Harry answered with his face becoming hotter and hotter; he could never get used to answering them without feeling acute embarrassment. He cooled down a little when she switched their discussion to the potions he was currently taking. Finally, Poppy returned to her stool, placing her clipboard at the foot of his bed. “Harry, there’s something I just don’t understand,” she began as she folded her hands in her lap. “Hermione took you to St Mungo’s because you had depleted your magical core to the point of nearly making yourself into a Squib, just as you did the last night of the war. While you were in the coma, your body repaired itself rapidly, sometimes leaking magic, especially if you were calling out for Ginny. Hermione and your Healers all expected you to discharge a great deal of energy just before you awoke, but that didn’t happen? Do you know the cause?” Harry nodded, but didn’t answer right away. Finally, he countered her question with some of his own. “Could you tell me how Hermione and the Healers knew I was discharging magical energy, please? What evidence did they record?” Poppy smiled as she consulted her records. “You levitated objects, rattled windows, and a couple of times Summoned nearby objects such as Hermione’s Muggle Biros. There’s one note here that says that when you were calling for Ginny, you had a faint, pink halo about you. The Healer who made the note said that it was late at night and the lights were dimmed, which was the reason she could see it.” Surprised, Harry asked, “I glowed? Pink? ” “That’s what it says here,” Poppy chuckled. “It looks like you were radiating love.” “Well, there’s your answer, then,” Harry said matter-of-factly. “I didn’t explode because I’d already known Ginny’s love. I may have Obliviated her because she couldn’t accept the restrictions of the Statute of Secrecy, but I awoke calmly because I knew I had been loved by someone romantically, something that Voldemort tried to take from me, but couldn’t in the long run because my engagement to Ginny was proof that I could love someone in return.” “Oh, Harry,” Poppy stated, coming to sit on the bed next to him, “I wish you hadn’t needed to do what you did. You were so happy with Ginny in your life and I’m forever grateful to her for loving you enough to allow you to find happiness and better health again. It makes me wonder, though, why you had your wand close at hand. You weren’t in any danger and I know you hadn’t performed any magic in over two years. Why have the wand out at all?” Harry sighed. He had known this conversation would come up with one or more of his Healers and he was at least grateful that it was Poppy rather than some of the more detached Healers at St Mungo’s. “We were arguing,” he began. “She didn’t know that magic is real when I proposed, so I decided to tell her it was and put out magical items in my library. She thought I was lying when I tried to give her examples. I’d shown her my wand and she’d tried to make it shoot sparks or something, but nothing happened, so she’d put it down. One thing led to another until she threw her engagement ring at me and called me a psycho.” “What happened then?” Poppy asked. “I grabbed the wand off the tea tray and Obliviated her,” Harry answered. “So, you performed a complicated spell that required a significant amount of power without testing your magical strength beforehand?” she asked. Harry nodded. “I doubt you completely erased her memory of your argument,” Poppy added candidly. “What happened when you cast the spell?” “I remember feeling the magic rush up my arm, just like it did when I killed Voldemort. I felt completely drained, like my legs wouldn’t hold me upright. We exchanged a few more words and I blacked out as she left my house,” Harry told her. Poppy looked sad as she said, “Harry, you shouldn’t have felt the magic leave your body, much less felt weakened after you performed the spell. I highly doubt that your spell will be permanent and Ginny may be experiencing dreams or flashbacks that make her wonder about why she terminated your engagement.” Surprised, Harry asked hopefully, “Do you think an impermanent spell would give her time to accept magic?” “It might, depending on how she accepts the evidence. If she realizes that you were under restriction to keep her ignorant of magic, she may accept you back. If not, we may need to call in the Obliviators to do the job correctly,” she answered. Harry bowed his head. “She was so angry,” he said. “I doubt she will want me back because I lied to her.” Poppy patted his knee. “You never know what a woman is thinking, Harry,” she said as he looked back up at her. “There is the chance that she may give you the benefit of a doubt. Her love for you may be strong enough to overcome her misgivings. Are you getting on all right without her?” Harry sighed. “Some days are better than others, but that’s to be expected. I seem to have the energy I gained while Ginny was in my life and when I start despairing, I think about the other people who have stood by me these last few months; you, Hermione and Neville, my Healers. I’m still pain free, even when I think about not being with Ginny any more. I still haven’t taken a walk past her flat yet, but as the weather improves, I may just do that to see how possibly seeing her makes me feel. Otherwise, I think I’m doing all right.” Poppy patted his knee. “That’s good to know, Harry. I think the old quote, ‘’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’ applies here. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you,” she said, standing up. “Thanks.” “Not at all.” She paused as she wrote something on her clipboard. “We’re done here. You may get dressed and I hope I won’t have to see you for another six months. I’ll send your Healers at St Mungo’s a copy of my report and they’ll get in contact with you about when your next appointment with them is.” Harry swung his feet off the bed and grabbed the pile of clothing he’d put on the bedside table. “Sounds like a plan,” he said. Several minutes later, he stepped into Poppy’s fireplace, heading back to Grimmauld Place with intention of going on a shopping spree. * Harry entered Diagon Alley five minutes before Gringotts opened at nine o’clock, dressed in a set of Sirius’ old robes and wearing a pointed warlock’s hat to hide his scar. While he’d dressed for the outing–happily levitating his shoes and Summoning articles of clothing from his dresser– he had applied and maintained a glamor spell to hide his scar, but within five minutes, he was feeling light-headed and needed to sit down. It was obvious that disguising his appearance with magic was just too taxing. Since it was still a bit early, he made good progress down the street and soon found himself standing in the shadows opposite the bank, waiting for it to open for business. When it did, Harry was among the first in line. “I’d like to see someone about getting a Muggle credit card,” he told the goblin who had signalled him over. “And why do you need a credit card?” the goblin asked. “I wish to purchase a car and the Muggles don’t accept gold,” Harry answered. “No, they don’t,” agreed the goblin. He turned to one of the other goblins nearby and they discussed Harry’s request in rapid Gobbledygook. After a few moments, the first goblin turned back to Harry. “You will follow Rocktoe,” he said, gesturing to the second goblin. Harry nodded and followed Rocktoe to a desk at the far end of the room where he sat in the customer’s chair and waited for the goblin to speak. “Do you wish to have the means to withdraw your gold and write cheques the way Muggles do?” he asked Harry. Harry nodded. “I find myself in the Muggle world quite often these days and it’s not a good idea to carry a huge roll of banknotes on my person,” he answered. “So, yes, having both would be a good idea. I suppose you will be able to help me with this?” “Of course, Mr Potter. Let me set them up and you can be on your way,” Rocktoe replied, reaching into the desk and pulling out two forms. Ten minutes later, Harry strode out of the bank with a pleased smile on his face. He hastened to The Leaky Cauldron and hired a room. While he wouldn’t be sleeping there that night, he did need a place to change clothes as the magic to transfigure his current apparel into Muggle jeans and a jumper was too advanced for his magical core at the moment. Once he was in his room, he pulled several tiny items from his pocket and put them on the bed in a pile. He wanted to perform the enlargement spell only once. When he had dressed, he left his robes on the bed, intending to come back to the room for them later. He then left the pub via the street door and once again ventured into Muggle London. * It was with a jaunty bounce in his step that Harry left his house for the third time that day, this time dressed in a conservative Muggle suit in dark blue, and headed for the Underground station where he used to meet Ginny. He was excited, not by the prospect of looking every inch the young businessman, but by the fact that he now owned an automatic driving license. He was now of the opinion that the Confundus Charm was a quite handy, if not very legal, means of expediting the processes that usually took longer than he’d been back in the land of the living, due to all the written and practical tests needed to obtain a full license. However, he couldn’t wait any longer because he was sick and tired of staying at home, dependent on others for transportation. His time with Ginny had shown him that he was meant to be out and driving… Having reached the Underground, he descended the steps and consulted the map before buying his ticket and finding the right platform. His train came and he chose to stand so that an elderly woman could have the only available seat. When his stop was announced, he left the train and consulted a piece of paper he had in his pocket before striding off down the busy street. Twenty minutes later, he entered a Vauxhall dealership and began looking at the various cars. He was pleased that there were several models that wouldn’t stand out if parked on the street in front of his house. Indeed, it wouldn’t do to own a car that would call attention to itself like a Jaguar (his dream car) or a BMW would in his neighbourhood. “May I help you?” a voice came from his left. Harry looked up to see one of the salesmen had come over in hopes of a sale. “Yes, I’m interested in purchasing a car today,” he said, indicating the Astra he was currently looking at. “Does this model come in red?” The salesman answered, “Yes, it does. We have several I can show you. Come with me.” The two wandered about the lot talking options, prices and engine size until Harry found the car he wanted, a deep red metallic Astra VXR with ABS brakes, folding rear seats, and air conditioning, a feature the salesman assured Harry he would appreciate during the coming summer. The only thing Harry was worried about was the keyless entry feature that required a fob with a battery. If his television remote couldn’t be charmed to work without batteries, he was certain the fob couldn’t be charmed either. He’d just have to use the lock the Muggle way. “Let’s go back to my office and complete the purchase, then,” the salesman said, looking rather pleased. Harry followed him, feeling rather excited. It took nearly an hour for the two to complete the paperwork and at last, Harry fished a book of paper out of his jacket that the goblins at Gringotts had assured him looked like and functioned as Muggle cheques. “I’m paying cash today,” Harry told the salesman. “How much should I write the cheque for?” The salesman told him and Harry filled out the top cheque. “I think you will be pleased with your purchase, young man,” the salesman said as he took it. “If you’ll please wait in the lobby, I’ll have your car detailed and brought to the front when it’s ready. Here is the spare key.” Harry smiled as he left the office, thinking that it would be fun to see how fast the car would go on the motorway, but decided against it. Getting stopped by a policeman the day he obtained his license and insurance wouldn’t do at all. Maybe he’d drive down to Devon in a few days once he was used to driving the car. When his new car was brought to the front, the salesman came to thank Harry for purchasing his car from him. They shook hands and Harry turned to leave. That was when he realized the consequences of his mistake; he’d purchased a car with a manual transmission rather than an automatic one. The rented Ford he had taken his driving test in had been an automatic and he’d applied for and received a license to drive that type of transmission! When asked, he’d Confunded the salesman into thinking that the license was for a manual car. Would his deception be discovered? He dared not consider it. For a moment, he panicked, thinking he was stuck. Then, he remembered being trapped in the back seat of his Uncle Vernon’s car while Dudley had driven them to visit Aunt Marge the summer Dudley turned sixteen. Uncle Vernon had been in the front passenger’s seat while Aunt Petunia had sat next to Harry ticking off the types of roads and road conditions Dudley was experiencing on his practice form and making disapproving noises every time the car lurched. For once, Harry had been glad he wouldn’t be allowed to do something. Harry now sat in the driving seat thinking hard, while trying to look as if he was surveying the layout of the controls and gages. A sideways glance told him the salesman was still standing where he’d left him. Bugger! It was almost as if he knew Harry didn’t know how to drive a car with manual controls! Suddenly, Harry recalled his uncle calmly telling Dudley, “Push in the clutch before you shift, son.” Several more instructions came to him in rapid succession–the new directions having come from the few times he’d driven Ginny’s car last October–and Harry applied them all, managing to smoothly drive to the exit before having to make the decision to turn right or left. A left turn won because it was shorter than a right and didn’t require a shift change in the middle. For a split second, Harry wondered if he could get home making only left turns. His turn was smooth and as he drove out of sight of the salesman, he heaved a sigh of relief, mostly because he didn’t want to look an idiot in front of the man. The rest of the ride home was an adventure. Harry prided himself in knowing how to easily get from one place to another in London, but soon discovered that confidence applied only to when he was on foot! Seeing the city from the right side of a car while traveling the speed limit was another thing entirely! Utterly lost, he pulled to the side of the road, put on his emergency flashers and pulled out his wand. A quick Point Me spell told him the direction he needed to be going and soon he was a little bit closer to home. He arrived at Grimmauld Place several hours later than he had planned, although he was quite pleased with the fact that he and his new car were still in one piece. He’d done a significant amount of lurching as he progressed through the city. “Harry, whose red Vauxhall is that parked out front?” Hermione asked as she entered Harry’s kitchen. “I haven’t seen it around here before.” “It’s mine,” Harry told her proudly as he flicked his wand at the Aga and a cauldron full of spaghetti levitated towards the sink and began to pour its contents into a colander he had waiting there. “I bought it today. It should be all right out there, since it’s beyond the house’s enchantments.” Hermione stopped halfway between the door and the worktop. “What aren’t you telling me,” she demanded, “and why are you casting spells? You know you’re not supposed to.” Harry retrieved a pan of sauce he’d had simmering next to the cauldron and dumped it and the spaghetti into a large bowl. “I had a visit with Poppy Pomfrey early this morning–” “You had an appointment with Madam Pomfrey and you didn’t tell me?” Hermione interrupted shrilly, sounding exasperated. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “We’ll go into that in a bit,” Harry told her crossly while handing her a basket of garlic bread. “Anyway, she’s cleared me to cast low-power spells. I’ve been using magic all day and I’ve discovered I have no problem with levitation and locking spells, but Point Me was a bit tiring. I’ve also decided I’m going to get one of those new-fangled sat nav systems to keep in the car so I won’t get lost.” They settled at the table and began eating in silence, Harry aware of the glare Hermione was levelling at him with every bite. Finally, she put down her fork. “It would have been nice to know you had an appointment with Madam Pomfrey today,” she said. “Hermione, you’ve been worrying about that meeting you had this morning for the last ten days. What was I supposed to do? Ask you to cancel it? I thought you’d appreciate not having to do so,” Harry said reasonably. “I’m not the invalid I was a year ago.” “I know you’re not, but I’ve been your advocate for so long, I thought we’d continue going to your appointments together until your Healers cleared you of all restriction,” she said, sounding unhappy. “Poppy thought the same thing, but I assured her I’d tell you exactly what we discussed,” Harry told her honestly. “That’s what I’m trying to do now.” “Oh.” He then told her about the rest of his conversation with Poppy, and by the time he finished, Hermione concurred that maybe she would have been in the way. She thanked him for the update and they finished their meal chatting about her meeting and the various goings-on at the Ministry. Harry had just served pudding when Hermione asked, “Are you going to tell me about the other things you did today? I know for a fact that you were most likely busier than I was. And when am I going to get a ride in your new car?” “So demanding!” he teased. “Since my appointment with Poppy was rather early, I went to the bank and the Leaky Cauldron after I met with her, then obtained my driving license, purchased some insurance, and finally bought the car.” “How could you have gone through the process of obtaining your driving license when you haven’t had any of the tests?” Hermione squawked. “Did you have to Confund someone?” Harry took a large gulp of his pumpkin juice before answering her. “Ginny encouraged me to apply for my license back in September. I went through the proper channels a little faster than the average teenager and maybe a Confundus Charm or two helped expedite things a little, but in the long run, I went through the process legally, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” “When did you get the chance to practice? When did you have lessons?” she persisted. “When you obviously were at work or off with your boyfriend,” Harry answered, beginning to become annoyed. “There’s not a lot to do around here during the day and I needed something to do while I waited for you to get off work. “Ginny was quite helpful, too. She provided the car in which I practiced. She drove us out to the country and let me practice on farm roads between Exeter and her parents’ farm where she learned to drive. I may not have gotten all of the required practice or professional lessons recommended, but Ginny was a good enough teacher that I passed the written and road exams well enough to get my license and now I’ve bought the car,” he continued defensively. “And before you start to berate me for doing things without you, remember that I don’t go to the Ministry with you and hold your hand while you’re in meetings, so just back off!” Hermione looked hurt at his attack. “I’m sorry, Harry. Maybe I should go,” she said quietly, standing up. Harry suddenly realized how his speech must have come across; he didn’t want her to leave, but he didn’t want to continue rowing with her either. He caught her wrist as she stepped away from the table. “I’m sorry, too, Hermione,” he apologized. “I’d like it if you stayed. Would you please stay? I don’t want to argue with you.” She hesitated and then sat back down. “I’ll stay,” she told him. A small smile lit up her face. “After all, I’ve missed arguing with my little brother for the last two plus years.” “Little brother?” Harry sputtered indignantly. “I’ll remind you that we were in the same year at Hogwarts, thank you very much, so you’re not that much older than I am!” Hermione laughed. “You’re right, Harry, but it was fun winding you up,” she chortled. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt confident enough to do that.” Harry smiled at her. “I’m glad,” he said. “Would you like to see my car?” “Could I have a ride in it?” She looked at her watch. “This time of night the traffic shouldn’t be too bad if we stick to the neighbourhood streets.” Harry grinned at her. “I’ll get my keys,” he said, and flicking his wand at the dishes, set them to washing themselves with a very satisfied smile. |
| Reviews 211 |
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