Summer Begins
The ride back to Privet Drive was... quiet, something Harry was truly thankful for. In the past, Vernon had done little to disguise his contempt of 'freaks' like him or the fact he had to drive to London to pick him up after attending his 'freakish' school. To date, Harry had taken the insults and belittling in stride, never happy with it, but always finding a way to get some form of payback. The summer after his first year he had used their ignorance to pretend he was getting ready to curse them, and last year he had casually mentioned his overprotective godfather was wanted for mass murder after escaping from prison.
But Vernon had seen Harry with Hermione, and he just knew the bastard wouldn't be able to resist saying something about her, or her family. If he did that... Harry would not be responsible for what happened next.
Still, he had an actual reason for playing nice, so when they finally arrived at Privet Drive, Vernon and Petunia were soon seated with Harry at the kitchen table. Dudley was out, no doubt searching the playground for a kid to beat up, so it was just the three of them for the moment. Sitting across from him, Vernon stared at him with his suspicious piggy eyes before finally speaking.
"Alright boy, we're both here. What's this rot about a 'deal' for us?"
Harry breathed slowly before answering in a calm, clear voice. "My godfather has been pardoned of his crimes, meaning this will be our last summer together. Even better, I won't be here for the entire summer. Worst case scenario, I'm stuck here until my birthday." Vernon opened his mouth to speak, but Harry raised his hand in a 'stop' motion, silencing him immediately.
"The reason I'm not leaving immediately is Voldemort, the madman who murdered my parents, is back." Petunia stiffened at Harry's mention of Voldemort, but he ignored it in favour of pressing on. "Before she died, my mother set up blood-wards, a potent form of magical protection, around the house, protecting everyone living here from Voldemort and his followers, the Death Eaters. The reason I'm not leaving immediately is my godfather is checking to ensure that any property we move into has comparable levels of protection. Once he's certain it's safe, I'm out of here.
"The deal I'm offering you is this: for the time I'm still here, you don't have to feed me or anything like that. In exchange, you do nothing to stop me from coming or going, and we stay out of each other's way. After I leave, I can forget you ever existed, and you can go back to pretending I died with my parents."
There was a pause in the air as Vernon and Petunia briefly looked at each other. There was an eagerness in Vernon's eyes, and it was apparent that he was quite happy to take the deal if it meant not having to deal with his 'freakishness' anymore. Petunia on the other hand... there was a hesitance in her eyes. Not the kind that came from being unwilling, far from it. Harry was quite willing to bet she was even more eager than Vernon to take it. He still remembered the night Hagrid delivered his Hogwarts letter to him in person, and the venom in his aunt's voice as she spoke of his mother.
No, this hesitation was built around something else. Like she knew something Harry didn't... or rather, there was something she had expected to hear from Harry, but didn't.
"Deal." Vernon's voice drew Harry's attention back to the present matter, with Harry nodding in response.
Pushing back from the table, Harry rose to return to his room, eager to get started on his summer plans. As he turned to leave, Petunia's voice rang out, not the shrill cry of a harpy he'd come to expect, but something smaller. Something more timid, more... uneasy.
"What happens to us after you leave?"
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. If Petunia was talking about the blood-wards, then they should last so long as they live here. But then Harry didn't know much about the blood-warda. Even Dumbledore didn't know much about them, or so he was told. If the wards could fail because he was no longer living with them... well, that wasn't his problem anymore. In all the time he'd spent with them, they'd never missed an opportunity to remind him he wasn't wanted. They might have been his relatives, but they were never his family. With that firmly in mind, he could only answer honestly.
"I don't know."
Minutes later, he was back in his room. The door was closed and he was happy to see, standing on his bed, the ever-loyal Gnarl inspecting the room. The look on his face made quite clear his displeasure at Harry's living conditions.
"So, this is what they saw fit to give you, Sire?"
Harry shrugged at Gnarl's question. "Beats sleeping in the boot cupboard."
Gnarl's eyes narrowed into an angry scowl at his words. "Yes, about that... are you quite certain you don't want us to punish the Dursleys? I assure you, the other elves would be quite happy to do it."
"Believe me, Gnarl, I have considered it. Vile as they are, they're not worth risking time in Azkaban."
"If it's being caught that worries you, Sire..."
"Besides," Harry continued, grinning all the while"Just because I don't want anything violent to happen to them, that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun."
Gnarl blinked at Harry's words, before grinning himself. He had just the perfect pair of elves in mind for whatever Harry was planning. They were quite fond of James and his friends, eagerly assisting them when pulling their pranks as the Marauders.
"But before we worry about that, can you do something about the room? Maybe make the bed more comfy?"
With a snap of his fingers, Gnarl got to work, turning the normally bare room into a proper bedroom befitting the Potter Heir. The bed expanded from its small size into a proper King-sized bed, complete with black sheets trimmed with scarlet. The nightstand moved to accommodate the new bed, while the desk across from the room expanded from the pathetic table into a proper mahogany desk, complete with the Potter dragon adorning it. Even the walls got a new paint job, changing to Gryffindor red, complete with gold trim along the corners and the edges of the window.
It was a major step up from what he was used to, feeling less like a prison cell, and more like an actual bedroom.
"Anything else, Sire?"
"Well, I'll be needing you or the rest of the elves to pop in some food for me while I'm still here."
"Easily handled, Sire. Anything else?"
Harry briefly considered before noticing Hedwig on the window, watching the changes with great interest.
"No, that should be everything for now. Thank you Gnarl."
Gnarl bowed his head in reverence for his Master, before popping away. Taking a seat at his new desk, Harry was pleased to note it included a stand for Hedwig, who promptly took it, watching as Harry grabbed some parchment for his letters.
Once these were written, he'd relax on the new bed, it looked extremely comfy. After that, he'd have a little fun at his relative's expense.
Daphne was enjoying herself. Mostly, at least. At the moment, she was enjoying her first breakfast at home for the summer with her family. At the head of the table sat her father, Lord Cyrus Greengrass. A stoic man with an impressive moustache, Daphne could count the number of times she'd seen him lose his composure on a single hand. The man was almost incapable of being bothered in such a way it became obvious. Some fools thought it meant he was slow-witted or otherwise easily duped. Those same fools would find themselves at the losing end of a deal thanks to his uncanny ability to remember in perfect clarity tiny details that others would consider insignificant but affected the outcome of a negotiation in an otherwise unforeseen way.
Next to him sat her mother, Cassandra Greengrass, and these two could not seem more different from each other.
Her mother was a true beauty, with long dark hair and violet eyes, which she had passed on to Daphne. But where Cyrus was calm and stoic, rarely if ever allowing his emotions to be seen, Cassandra was lively and talkative. She was the perfect example of a socialite, with a large network of friends and acquaintances and a love of gossip. She was also quite brilliant and recognized as a Master in Charms and Transfiguration, yet she preferred to support her husband in his endeavours and raise their children. It was thanks to this network of friends and acquaintances that she was able to provide her husband with information that proved invaluable to his business ventures.
At the moment, while Cassandra was discussing the latest gossip with Cyrus, Astoria realized they had a visitor.
"Is that Potter's owl?"
Daphne turned her head up and saw that Astoria was correct. Potter's owl, Hedwig if she remembered, was flying down towards Daphne. Landing with impeccable grace, she held out one of her legs for Daphne to take a letter. As she did this, Cassandra took note of their visitor.
"Oh my goodness, what a beautiful owl." Hedwig preened at the compliment. "I don't have any treats at the moment, but would you care for some bacon?"
With a soft hoot, Hedwig moved closer to Cassandra, who happily fed the owl some bacon while gently stroking her feathers, marvelling at her beauty. While she did this, Daphne looked over the letter in her hands, before voicing her confusion. "Why would Hedwig be bringing me a letter?"
Cassandra cooed. "Aw, a beautiful name for a beautiful owl." Hedwig preened with pride at Cassandra's words, drawing a giggle from her and Astoria while Daphne rolled her eyes. Opening the letter, she read it promptly.
Dear Daphne
I trust this letter finds you well. I didn't expect the school year to end the way it did. Getting through that insane Tournament was all I could ask for. Having to witness the resurrection of Voldemort was an unpleasant experience to say the absolute least. The only upside to that experience was I managed to capture Pettigrew and finally get my godfather's name cleared, despite Fudge's efforts.
On another topic, thank you again for the book you gave me early in the school year. Without it, I doubt I would have made it through the Tournament as well as I did. I find that I still have a great deal to learn about being the Heir to a Lordship. While I've no desire to become a strutting peacock like Malfoy, I'm learning rather late that there are situations where behaving in anything less than a specific manner would have me labelled a thoughtless lout. That much I'd like to avoid.
Speaking of Malfoy, a Prefect found him and his cronies in a bathroom stall together. Was this yours or Tracey's doing? If so, that's impressive. No way is that going to be forgotten by the summer's end.
Well, that's all I have to say. Take care, Daphne, and I hope you have a safe and pleasant summer!
Harry Potter
P.S. You mentioned your mum knew mine earlier in the year. Please let her know I'd love to hear from her. I'd love to hear from a friend of my parents who can tell me something other than that I look like my dad with my mum's eyes.
By the time Daphne finished reading, Hedwig had already taken off. She made a mental note to write a response to Harry, most likely one that her mother would contribute to. As for the issue of Malfoy, she couldn't help but grin. Harry did offer to help her make the greasy git miserable, and this was just what she needed.
Sitting in the front yard, Harry had to admit that this was probably the best summer he'd ever experienced. His little deal with the Dursleys had worked out well for him, with neither Petunia nor Vernon interacting with him. Even Dudley seemed to be going out of his way to avoid Harry, likely at his parent's instruction. Which suited Harry just fine. It even came with the added benefit of them not bothering him with demands for chores. So long as he stayed out of their way, they were willing to leave him be.
This is why, at the moment, he was sitting in the front yard in a lawn chair, in the shade of an umbrella, with a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade, courtesy of the house elves, and a book on Transfiguration, courtesy of the Potter library. The cover was charmed to appear as a 'normal' book, rather than one on magic, so there was no risk of the Statute of Secrecy being violated, and the house elves were skilled enough to keep their activities from triggering any magical detection placed on him or the house, given his status as an underage wizard.
Just as he was finishing the latest chapter, a distinctly feminine voice spoke to him.
"I don't suppose you'll let me borrow that?"
Looking up, Harry was surprised, but overjoyed, to see Hermione standing in front of him. With a smile, he rose to his feet, setting the book aside, and immediately wrapped his arms around her in a hug as he kissed her, which she returned happily.
"How are we coming along?"
Sirius sat in his dining room, which for the moment had been converted into the war room for the Order of the Phoenix. Compared to the state it had been in a week ago, the dining room was practically luxurious, thanks in no small part to the efforts of Winky and the rest of the Order. Kreacher, to his dismay, was indeed still alive, and the first meeting between him and Winky was... awkward, with Kreacher regarding her as an interloper on what he considered 'his' duties, while she considered him a bad elf for the state of Grimmauld Place.
The only reason it didn't devolve into fisticuffs between the elves was by his order, though Kreacher could do with a humbling.
More to the point, the house was still being cleaned, but more importantly, it was being reinforced. The Fidelius had already been placed upon the house, with him as Secret Keeper this time, and the rest of the Order, as part of a deal to allow them to use it as their headquarters, were adding every manner of defence they could think of. While this wasn't nearly as strong a defence as somewhere like Hogwarts, it was already going a long way to getting it up to snuff. Even better, with Order members staying the night, the House had additional defenders beyond the wards.
"Well, we've cleared out the main floor of any lingering traps," Remus answered, bringing Sirius out of his thoughts. At the moment, Dumbledore was chairing a meeting of the Order, with himself present, along with most members of the Order, including Snivellous. "The upper floors are coming along nicely, though we're still being cautious about some of the traps that have been left behind. Shacklebolt nearly lost an eye to a dart-shooting grandfather clock."
Moody spoke up gruffly, "What about the artifacts we've been finding?"
Sirius took that as his cue. "We're still sorting them out. Mostly we're trying to make sure we know what we're dealing with. It's just a matter of separating the mostly harmless from the stuff the DMLE or the Unspeakables will be taking."
Moody grunted in acceptance of his reasoning, before turning back to Remus. Before he could say anything, he was interrupted.
"RRRAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHH!!!"
Snape collapsed to the floor, clutching his arm like it was on fire, screaming in absolute agony. Sirius peered over the table at the writhing figure, as did the rest of the Order.
"It's happening again?"
"THIS DAMNED MARK-!! RRGGH! IT'S AS THOUGH LILY'S TAKING HER REVENGE!"
"I thought Wormtail screwed up the potion?"
"HE- RRGGHH! HE LIKELY DID, BUT THIS SHOULDN'T BE THE RESULT!"
Minutes passed as Snape writhed in agony, and despite the efforts of the Order, nothing could be done to alleviate the pain. Finally, the torture subsided, and he rose, shakily, breathing heavily, to his feet.
"Feel better?" Sirius chimed in, a look of practiced innocence on his face when Snape turned a murderous glare towards him.
"Black, I am five seconds away from lopping my arm off with a cleaver. Be very careful."
"Still no luck on blocking the attacks?" Dumbledore diverted attention back to himself with his question.
"Despite mine and the Dark Lord's efforts, none. I've investigated ways to protect myself and come up short. The Dark Lord is investigating means to protect himself and his forces, but likewise, he has found nothing of- RRAAUGH!"
"So this is your room now?"
"Yeah, Gnarl did a good job."
Harry walked behind Hermione, carrying the pitcher of lemonade, setting it on his desk as she took a seat on his bed. When she patted the spot next to her, he sat next to her, blushing all the while. Before he could say anything, she reached into her bag and pulled out a familiar book.
"Here, I thought you'd like this back."
Harry blinked as he took the book from her. "You read it already??"
"I was curious!" Hermione defended herself with a blush. Merlin, she looked so cute like that. He couldn't help himself. He leaned over and kissed her again. She pulled him closer as he did so, wrapping her arms around him in a Hermy-hug.
Lord Crabbe was relaxing in his home when the first attack came. He collapsed out of his chair, screaming in agony as he clutched his arm, trying to ignore the pain. He failed, as it continued, a terrible agony that felt akin to a thousand blades being twisted in his arm as salt was poured into the wound.
Finally, the pain subsided, and he could breathe easily again. Needing to clear his head, he decided he'd spend a few minutes riding his broomstick. That was when the second attack came.
He screamed in agony.
He lost his grip on his broom.
He screamed as he fell through the air.
The pain faded as he crashed through the roof of his house.
He stopped screaming.
His wife screamed for him.
"You haven't been to Gringotts yet?"
Harry rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I've been enjoying myself a bit too much."
Hermione fixed him with a hard stare. "Harry, what did you do?"
"Well... I might have explained to the elves the difference between whipped cream and Vernon's shaving cream."
"Oh, Harry..."
"And how to make the vacuum explode dust when Petunia changes the bag."
Hermione facepalmed. She was trying not to giggle too much.
"And then there was the incident with the noodles..."
Hermione buried her face in his chest as she laughed.
Golgomath looked down on the wizards.
The one he liked, Walden, was screaming.
The other wizards were screaming.
They were very loud.
Golgomath decided he didn't like the sound.
He decided to silence them.
Too bad.
He liked Walden.
"You think I should visit Gringotts soon?"
"If even half of what that book told me is true, your family has long had a good relationship with Gringotts and the Goblin Nation. Besides, they handle the finances of Magical Britain. I'd be surprised if they couldn't tell you more about your family."
Harry smiled at Hermione. He didn't say anything, drawing a confused look from her.
"What?"
"Have I told you I love how brilliant you are?"
Hermione blushed and snogged him again.
In Malfoy Manor, Voldemort remained in his room, the door locked, and reinforced with all manner of Silencing Charms. He couldn't let anyone else hear him screaming.
He needed to find a way to end this torture!
He needed a way to fix Wormtail's mistake!
Then he'd find Potter, and make him suffer for every moment of agony!
But first, he needed to think clearly!
Damn, that cowardly fool! What did he put in the potion!?!?
"You haven't heard from Ron yet?"
"No, which is odd. His dad and brother both work in the Ministry. You'd think he'd hear something from them. What about Sirius?"
"His letter just told me he and some friends were at work on his childhood home. Nothing much beyond that."
"Hmm. Well, I should be getting back soon. See you tomorrow?"
"It's a date."
Hermione blushed as Harry walked her to the door like a proper gentleman. He didn't want the Dursleys bothering her. With a final kiss goodbye, he rushed back to his room.
"Gnarl!"
The elf in question popped into the room.
"Yes, Sire?"
"I need a crash course in Goblin etiquette."