HARRY POTTER AND THE SWORD OF THE HERO

Chapter 14 - The Clouds Gather Over My World

Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.

--Norman Vincent Peale

Harry walked slowly past the small compartments aboard the Hogwarts Express. He threw the bag of floo powder from hand to hand lazily, lost deep in thought. It wasn't until he accidentally dropped the bag of powder that he noticed there was a small note attached. He ripped it off and opened it:

Harry,

Please be aware that the Ministry and I have agreed to allow you to use magic away from Hogwarts. We feel it is in the best interest of your safety. Once again I must stress the need for you to be safe. Merry Christmas,

Albus Dumbledore

That's good, thought Harry. He didn't have to worry about suspension notes from the Ministry. It didn't take him long to find the compartment with his friends in. Before he entered, Harry put the floo powder in the bag on his back and zipped it up; hoping against hope that he didn't have to use it this Christmas.

Upon entering the compartment he was greeted by more than just Ron and Hermione. Ginny, Neville and Luna were seated as well. Neville and Luna were seated very close together and she was showing him something out of a recent edition of the Quibbler. Ron and Hermione were also seated close together. Harry chuckled slightly as he placed his bag in the rack above the seats. They weren't eleven years old anymore.

"What kept you?" asked Ron.

"Dumbledore wanted another quick word before I left," replied Harry as he sat down next to Ginny. "You know the usual. Be careful, look after yourself, don't defy evil too much..."

"We were worried you'd missed the train," said Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "If I did I would have got to London somehow. The Knight bus or something." Hermione nodded and then turned to look out of the window. "So what time do you think we'll get into London?" asked Harry.

"Just add about six hours to whatever time it is now," said Ginny.

"Six thirty, sevenish then," piped up Neville, who had given up interest in the Quibbler. Luna was now reading it alone.

The journey to London was a long one. On the way there Harry played at least a dozen games of Exploding snap with Ron and Neville and was now nursing several small cuts and burns. About halfway through the trip the lady with the snack trolley came by and Harry purchased enough Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans to last everyone well into Christmas and over as well. He wanted to make this a really good one.

It was getting dark when the train entered the outskirts of London. It was still about fifteen minutes away from Kings Cross. During the trip, Ron, Ginny, and Luna had fallen asleep; leaving only Harry, Hermione and Neville awake.

"How far is it to your house from the station?" asked Harry, who was playing with the drops of rain on the window.

Hermione appeared thoughtful for a moment. "It's about an hour and a half drive. Give or take five minutes."

"Where we headed again?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "How many times? You're just like Ron," she continued smiling. "My house is just outside of Oxford, in the town of Abingdon."

"Abingdon? Don't know it."

Hermione smiled again. "It’s lovely. You'll see."

Harry sighed and shook his head quickly, trying to keep himself awake. It had been a long, slow train ride. As he rubbed his eyes a thought came to him. "Hermione, what do your parents know about... everything?"

"Everything?"

Harry sat up straight. "You know – everything. The war, Voldemort," Neville twitched slightly, "Hogwarts, magic. Everything!"

Hermione suddenly looked nervous and... sad. "They don't know everything," she said slowly. "They know next to nothing about you and V-Voldemort. They do know that there is a... conflict in the wizarding world."

Harry nodded. "So if they ask, what do I tell them about me?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure? They know your parents died when you were a baby, and that you get into a lot of trouble from time to time."

"And if they ask me about the war?"

Hermione didn't say anything for a moment. "Be honest..."

"Yeah... honest..."

As the train eased itself into the station, Harry, Hermione, and Neville woke their friends. It was a dark, cool night outside and Harry could see his breath in the light as they exited onto the platform. Having little luggage thanks to the enlargement charm, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made it off the train quickly. They said goodbye to Neville and Luna and were soon on their way towards the barrier. Harry also said a brief goodbye to Ginny, and hugged her quickly.

Hermione went first, then Ron, who was closely followed by Harry. On the other side of the barrier the Muggle station was relatively empty. There were two electric trains in and several parents waiting for their child. Harry found himself feeling unaccountably nervous, he felt his palm tingling with magic as he walked, ready to use if needs be.

"MUM! DAD!" shouted Hermione loudly. Harry cringed slightly as her voice echoed down the near empty station. He turned just in time to see Hermione envelope her father in a hug and then grab her mother as well. From what Harry remembered of Hermione's parents, they hadn't changed much. Mr. Granger had short, slightly receding brown hair with a few grey patches, and Harry noticed he was taller than him now. Mrs. Granger had longer hair and it was tied back in a knot across her back, she was also very short.

Harry and Ron stayed to the side during this reunion, unsure on what to do. "It's so good to see you, Hermione," said Mrs. Granger.

"And you," replied Hermione, hugging her mother again. "You remember Harry and Ron, yes?”

"Of course we do." Mrs. Granger smiled warmly as she shook Ron's hand. When she came to Harry there was a flicker in her eyes that Harry couldn't identify. Was it sadness... fear?

"Brian Granger," said Mr. Granger, extending his hand to Ron and then Harry. Again there was something in his eyes when they met with Harry's.

Once the greetings were over, Hermione began a full recount of what she'd done last term. Harry noticed, as they walked through the now almost deserted station, that she left a great deal out concerning his activities. It was cold on their way to the car, and Harry quietly cast a small warming charm on himself. Once again he was thankful for being allowed to use magic. Mr. Granger's car was an old model 1967 Shelby GT500, his pride and joy said Hermione as she, Ron, and Harry climbed into the backseat. It was worth an arm and a leg.

Once everyone was in and seated, they were off. Harry made himself comfortable; it was an hour and a half drive away. Mr. and Mrs. Granger meanwhile, made conversation.

"So Hermione tells us you live with your Aunt and Uncle, Harry," said Mrs. Granger.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Hermione and Ron on the other hand, exchanged one of their worried looks. Harry finally found his voice. "No... That's, that's no longer true." He gave no further explanation and Mrs. Granger didn't push it. Ron looked at him anxiously but Harry just shook his head. They didn't know that Voldemort had killed them... they couldn't know.

"Well we're going to have a good Christmas this year," said Mr. Granger. "Hermione's home and her friends as well. And Grandma's coming down from the Lakes also, Hermione."

"Really?" asked Hermione quickly, her face lighting up. "I've not seen her since I was eleven," she said quietly.

After ten minutes they left the streets of London and came to the motorway. The traffic wasn't that bad so Harry supposed they were making good time. Soon street signs started to appear for Hermione's town. Abingdon 50, Abingdon 40.

"So there are seven positions..."

"Right," said Ron, "Two beaters, three chasers, one seeker and the keeper, that's me. Harry's our team seeker."

"And what does the seeker do?" asked Mr. Granger.

"The seeker has to catch a small golden ball called the Snitch. If he catches it the game is over."

Harry enjoyed listening to Ron explain the finer points of Quidditch to Hermione's father, who loved Muggle football. "This is a snitch," said Harry, pulling the one he'd won in Hogsmeade out of his pocket. "I have to catch this." The snitch unfurled itself in the car and began to flutter to and fro, both Mr. and Mrs. Granger were amazed by it. After a few minutes Harry caught it deftly in his right hand and returned it to his pocket.

Soon enough they arrived at Hermione's hometown of Abingdon. It was just like one of a thousand that dotted the English countryside. A sign on the way in said it was home to 100,000 people so it wasn't small. They past by rows of small terraced houses, went through a fast food restaurant chain which amazed Ron, and through the central business district. It was eight o'clock at night so the streets weren't that busy. A few teenagers were out and about, but that was about it. They turned onto a small street named Cumbria Way and Hermione leaned over and told them it was just up ahead.

The houses on this street were mostly old Victorian Townhouses, definitely the homes of dentists. Most had been renovated and an extra room had been added to make it look more modern. It had started to rain slightly as Mr. Granger slowed the car to a stop and pressed a button on his dashboard. Harry saw out the window that an automatic garage door was opening on the house to the right. Mr. Granger gave it a moment and then turned into the driveway.

Hermione's house was pretty much exactly like the other twenty five or so on the street. It was a modest two stories, Victorian, with a few extras here and there. Most noticeably a conservatory and an extra room above the garage. But Harry only noticed those in passing as they raced to the front door to get out of the rain.

It was dark for a moment inside as Hermione fumbled for the light switch. Harry stepped to the side as Mr. Granger entered.

"Welcome home, everyone," he said to the group at large. The house was almost exactly like Harry had imagined it. It was clean and well kept. On the walls were hung pictures of Hermione from younger years, other relatives, and family friends. The hall disappeared to the living room, which at the moment was too dark to see. There were stairs leading up on the right and Harry could just see the kitchen down the back. It was, at least Harry thought, a comfortable place. It would be nice to spend a few days here.

"Right, Hermione. Show Harry and Ron upstairs to the guest room. We're going to go straight to bed; we have to be at the office early tomorrow."

"You're working on Christmas Eve?" asked Harry.

Mr. Granger smiled. "Being a dentist pays well but you're on call everyday of the year, though Christmas Day should be fine."

"Goodnight then," said Harry and Ron in unison.

Hermione's room was up the stairs and first door on the right. She pointed it out as they passed and Harry had a brief glimpse of walls covered in bookshelves, which, were in turn, covered in books. She led them down the dark hall, flicking on a light switch as they went and soon came to a door with a plaque on it. Guest Room it said simply. There was a similar door opposite this one as well, it had the same plaque.

Inside, the room held two beds and a chest of drawers. The walls were covered in flowery wallpaper and there was a large clock against the back wall just to the left of a window that overlooked the street.

Harry sighed with relief when he saw the bed, it had been a long lazy day, travelling all the way from Scotland, and he was tired. "We'll have fun tomorrow," said Hermione, stifling a yawn. "I'll show you round town."

"Uh-huh," mumbled Harry, falling onto the bed.

"Night, then," smiled Hermione.

"Goodnight, Hermione," said Ron, hugging her close and kissing her on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Not too early," replied Hermione, hugging him back. "Tomorrow is going to be a slow day."

"Why's that?" frowned Ron.

She hit him playfully on the arm. "It's Christmas Eve, of course."

Ron smiled. "Is it?" he asked softly, "I best get to sleep then."

Hermione and Ron parted and she closed the door on her way out. Ron stood in the darkness for a moment, listening to her footsteps as she walked away; it wasn't long though before he was lying down in the soft bed.

"She's great, Harry," began Ron. "Well of course you already know that, but I just... Harry? Harry are you listening to me?" There was a snore across the room and it took Ron a moment to realize he'd been talking to himself, Harry had fallen asleep. He sighed. "Night, mate," he mumbled before rolling over and falling straight to sleep.

*~*~*~*

The Lake District, Northern England 

Ethan surveyed the small sleeping town of Windermere before him. He had been too late, he had missed it. Sighing, he rubbed his arm slightly from when a moment ago his Dark Mark had burned viciously and relentlessly into his skin.

Damn, he thought. Why did I hesitate... it could be days before he calls them again...

Ethan silently berated himself for a few moments and muttered some choice curses under his breath. Eventually, and with a great deal of sighing he looked to the night sky, dotted with stars.

With a swish of his cloak, Ethan Disapparated.

*~*~*~*

It was growing again, always growing... never dying. Harry watched with increasing fear as the giant circle of light before him claimed another life into its swirling vortex. The heat coming from it was incredible; his very blood felt like it was burning. As it had happened a hundred times before, Harry was lifted off his feet and into the air towards the circle. He was a hairs breadth away when it stopped spinning and disappeared into the darkness, only to be replaced by a much greater evil. Lord Voldemort. 

Harry awoke to darkness and was momentarily disorientated. It took him a moment to stop panting and realize where he was. Its all right... he told himself, he's not here, not at Hermione's.

Harry sighed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hand. A brief glance at his watch showed him it had just gone five in the morning. He groaned again but in so doing hurt his throat. It wasn't until just now that he realized how thirsty he was, not just thirsty... parched.

"Lumos!" he croaked, raising his palm as the small sphere of light began to form on it, casting the room into shadow with its pale glow. He saw Ron blissfully fast asleep across the room, snoring heavily. Harry sighed again and slowly crept out of bed. His joints protested as he stretched them across the carpet, heading towards the door, it was just too early.

Outside in the hallway there was a small lamp alight on a wooden table to his right so Harry extinguished his hand. "Nox," he whispered and began a slow walk downstairs, towards the kitchen.

There were small noises coming from downstairs as Harry reached the landing. He frowned slightly and was immediately on his guard. Who would be up this early? he thought. Cautiously and quietly Harry slipped down the stairs quickly, his hand rose in front of him for defence.

Now Harry wasn't one hundred percent sure on where the kitchen was, he recalled seeing it at the end of the entrance hall last night and headed that way. The noise seemed to be coming from there anyway. It wasn't until he approached the slightly open door, light filtering out onto the carpet, that Harry relaxed. He heard Mr. Granger laugh.

Harry let out a long held breath and for a brief moment wondered when his life had grown so troublesome that he needed to be cautious at the slightest noise. He shook his head and put a hand on the doorknob, he held it there for a moment before opening it slightly and stepping in.

The door creaked loudly as he pushed against it and his presence was made known almost instantly. He saw Mr. and Mrs. Granger look up from their coffee and newspapers, see him at the door, turn to look at each other quickly, before turning back to look at Harry. All this happened in about three seconds.

"Good morning, Harry," said Mrs. Granger kindly.

"You're an early riser," commented Mr. Granger.

Harry nodded slightly as the amount of light in the room blinded him for a moment. Early riser... "Yeah, yeah I always have been," he croaked.

"Oh! You sound thirsty, would you like a drink?"

"Water please," he yawned, taken a seat at the end of the table, again he saw a small nervous look pass between Hermione's parents, who, now he noticed, were up and dressed for work. Dentists, he remembered, have to work early.

Mrs. Granger placed a glass of water on the table in front of him and Harry swallowed it quickly, feeling his throat ease as the liquid passed down it. He drained the glass and placed it back on the table with a sigh. "That's better..."

"Did you sleep well?" asked Mrs. Granger.

Harry looked up and into her eyes. No... "Yeah, yeah the bed was very comfy," he lied, rubbing the short stubble that had developed on his face overnight.

"Have you kids got anything planned for today?" asked Brian Granger.

Harry turned to him now. Kids, he thought, long time since I've been a kid. "I think we're going to nip into town," he said, accepting a cup of tea from Mrs. Granger, he hadn't even seen her make it. "Ron will love to see a Muggle town.” Mr. and Mrs. Granger both frowned. "He's rarely been anywhere other than magical villages and places. Muggle technology will amaze him."

Mr. Granger laughed softly but Harry could tell there was something else on his mind, as with Mrs. Granger. It wasn't long before it happened.

"Harry..." began Mrs. Granger.

"Janet," whispered Mr. Granger, shaking his head.

Harry frowned. "What's the matter?"

There was a moment of uneasy silence in which Mr. Granger twirled a pen between his fingers, and Mrs. Granger traced circles with her finger on the table. "Harry... are you dangerous?"

He had expected it; he was even slightly prepared for it, but was speechless when it came out. Dangerous... yes, more than you can ever know. "I... well I'm..." He searched for the right words, for any words. Hermione had told him to be honest, to be truthful; but the truth was horrifying, brutal, beyond most people's comprehension.

"We read this," continued Mrs. Granger, pulling something out from a draw in the table, it took Harry a moment to realise what it was, a simple book. It took him another moment to read the title, and when he did he cringed. "Famous Witches and Wizards of the Twentieth Century," recited Mrs. Granger. She looked at Harry expectantly and Harry looked to Mr. Granger who was in turn looking back at him.

"I suppose I'm in that?" he asked, already knowing that he was.

Mrs. Granger nodded. "Hermione left it here at the beginning of term. Your page was bookmarked, as was another's..."

"Voldemort..." whispered Harry, knowing he was right. The nods from Hermione's parents relieved him of any doubt. He briefly noticed that this name held no meaning to them, their eyes were all full of questions, not fear.

"It said that he was a murderer, a dark wizard. He was responsible for your parents, and hundreds of other deaths, and it also said you destroyed him."

Harry nodded and raised his hand up and across his scar. Be honest... "He tried to kill me, used the killing curse-"

"The what?" interrupted Mrs. Granger.

"Let him speak, Janet," said Mr. Granger.

Harry waited a moment as they looked each other up and down. A look of mingled fear and apprehension mixed with anxiety and excitement. They both wanted to know, and weren't so sure at the same time. "The killing curse is just that. An unblockable, unstoppable, jet of green light that kills all it touches. That said, I did block it, I was only a year old at the time and don't know how I did it. My blood had something to do with it... Anyway, Voldemort's curse rebounded upon him, effectively destroying him for thirteen years..." Harry turned away from the Grangers as the memory of the graveyard surfaced... blood of the enemy.

Hermione's parents nodded. "Yes... it said most of that," she mumbled, opening the book to the right page and passing it to Harry. "But it didn't say he wasn't... killed, nor that he came back."

Harry briefly scanned the page. Avada Kedavra... Halloween Night... a baby, Harry... destroyed forever... "No. No it wouldn't. Almost everyone thought he was dead, he wasn't, unfortunately."

There was an uneasy silence in the room as the first early rays of sunlight began to shine in through the window. Harry took a few sips of his tea and placed the book back on the table. "And he is definitely back now... this Voldemort. Murdering again," Mr. Granger whispered apprehensively.

Harry sipped his tea again. Honest... "Yeah," he said bitterly, clenching his jaw. "I saw him return two years ago, wasn't pretty. I won't say more than that."

Another one of those nervous glances was exchanged between Mr. and Mrs. Granger. "That was the year Hermione came home so... unhappy," said Janet Granger, nodding her head. "We tried asking her what was wrong, she said that something awful had happened, something unbelievably bad, and... and that she was really worried about you."

Harry smiled slightly but it was gone a moment later. "She did, did she? Well... Voldemort... is possibly the most evil man who has ever lived. No, he's not even human anymore. He's a monster who has literally killed thousands of people-"

"Why haven't your magical police stopped him then?" growled Mr. Granger, raising his voice slightly.

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "They’re called Aurors, wizard police. And there is a good reason he's never been stopped by them. And it's the simple fact that everyone who has ever tried has died..."

"You didn't..." said Mrs. Granger, looking at him with what Harry thought was... pity, maybe, mixed with a clear admiration of something that she couldn't even begin to understand.

Harry looked down into the dregs of his tea. "Yeah, but I've been lucky."

There was silence again and Harry found himself listening to the birds chirping with the sunrise in the trees outside, a simple distraction really but an affective one. He was brought back to himself as Mr. Granger spoke. "You never answered our question," he said, while Harry turned to him. "Are you a danger to Hermione?"

"Yes," he answered immediately, truthfully. "She is safe, though."

"Safe?"

"Voldemort can't touch her at Hogwarts, and it would be incredibly hard to get her here as well."

A confused expression crossed both Mr. and Mrs. Granger's faces. "Protected?"

"Magical wards, charms. Incredibly hard and complex ones that Voldemort would have some trouble breaking through," replied Harry.

"But if he did, he would try to hurt her?"

Harry hesitated for a moment. "...Yes."

Mr. Granger stood up from the table and began to pace up and down, a mixture of emotions upon his face. Mrs. Granger meanwhile seemed to be at a loss at what to say. Her face was clear of emotion and she stared deep into him.

"We always knew she was special, always," muttered Mr. Granger, seemingly talking to himself, "we accepted what she was, were amazed by it. A witch! Who'd a thought? But this..." he trailed away.

"We want what's best for Hermione, Harry. We always will. We knew it would be best for her to go to this school so she could learn her... magic, but this business with Voldemort... having her life in danger is not what's best for her, that's obvious."

Mr. Granger sat back down and sighed heavily. "We know she won't want to abandon you, Harry, but if you've got this nutter after you who can't be stopped, then it might be best if she left Hogwarts."

Harry's face remained blank as Brian told him this, but inside his heart was doing a mile a minute. Hermione leave Hogwarts? She'd never leave... but her parents could not let her go... "He would still be after her even if she wasn't close to me..." Harry finally said.

"Excuse me?" said Mrs. Granger.

Harry sighed. "She's Muggleborn."

"She's what?"

"A magical person born to none magic parents. Voldemort's whole cause for war is over the purity of blood, he sees Hermione and those like her as scum, people not worthy of magic – people who have stolen magic. It's utter bollocks of course, but he has the power to back up his threats and therefore we are at war..."

"He's racist... prejudice" said Mrs. Granger bitterly. Harry nodded.

Mr. Granger was on his feet again, pacing. "This can't be happening," he said exasperated. "She's only sixteen..."

"So am I," said Harry. "But Voldemort doesn't care." Harry stopped but Mr. and Mrs. Granger continued to stare at him, begging him with their eyes to say more. "Look. Hermione is what she is, a witch. A very clever, very talented witch. That's who she is. Taking her out of Hogwarts isn't going to change that."

There were a few moments of silence as Hermione's parents seemed to have a conversation without actually saying anything, but Harry could see when they came to a decision. "You can assure us she is safe at Hogwarts?"

"Voldemort cannot touch her there, no matter how hard he tries. Unless I personally tell him she is at Hogwarts, then he can never get her there," Harry replied honestly.

Mr. Granger stared hard at him. "We're trusting you with her safety, Harry. As much as we would like to protect her, and we do, this world of hers, of yours, is beyond us. If you say she is safe we'll believe you."

Harry nodded and placed his now empty cup on the table. He glanced down at his watch and saw that it was six thirty; he'd been talking for an hour. Mrs. Granger seemed to have just noticed the time as well. "Oh, Brian, we have to be at the practice in half an hour."

Mr. Granger nodded and rubbed his clean shaven face. "You've been honest with us, Harry. I respect that. Thank you for giving us some answers. Not what we were expecting but... thank you."

"You're welcome," he said as they put on their coats and Mrs. Granger collected her handbag.

"We'll see you later on tonight then, Harry," Mr. Granger said, shaking his hand. "Have a good day."

Mrs. Granger came up to him next. She paused a moment and looked into his eyes. Then, surprising Harry, hugged him tightly like Mrs. Weasley did. It felt very motherly. "Thank you for everything there, Harry. I'm so happy Hermione's got such a good friend. Merry Christmas." She let him go and Harry tried to reply, but it had been so unexpected he couldn't form words, so he just nodded.

Ten minutes later Harry finished brewing another cup of tea, he could have used magic but he felt it tasted better without. It was still early, and he didn't expect Ron or Hermione to be up for another few hours, so he picked up his cup of tea and opened the back kitchen door.

Outside it was cold, freezing cold. Harry shivered as he sat in a chair overlooking the stunning view of a forest in the distance. Hermione's house was on the end of an estate so there was nothing but countryside behind it. He was sat at an outside table, the kind with four seats and an umbrella sticking out the centre to provide shade when in the sun.

Harry shivered again and then pointed his hand at his shirt he was still wearing from last night. "Transjumsio!" he said quietly. His thin black shirt transfigured into a thick woolly jumper, Harry felt warmer almost instantly.

Now that he wasn't distracted by the cold, Harry noticed just how nice it was out here in the early morning. The seat he was sat at was placed on a porch that was raised off the ground above the rest of the garden. It gave an impressive view of the countryside around. There was no noise, save for small animals. The roads behind him on the other side of the house were empty this early in the morning and Harry found himself loving the quiet.

Of course it was too good to last. Harry was just sipping his tea when a sudden short stab of pain ripped across his scar. It was a daily occurrence, but he was never ready for it and he dropped his cup with surprise and pain. It shattered as it hit the ground. He cursed as the pain passed and clasped a hand to his forehead. "Reparo!" he said sighing, pointing his other hand at the broken cup.

The small mug repaired itself and jumped back into Harry's outstretched hand. He sighed again at the now empty cup and placed it on the table. It wasn't until now he realised that he was pretty hungry. The last thing he'd eaten would have been a chocolate frog on the train yesterday. Harry gave the world one last look and then picked up the mug and headed back inside.

It was still early in the morning and he didn't know when Ron and Hermione would be awake. Harry supposed no one would mind if he made himself some toast, so he did. After searching through the cupboards he came across the bread, and also the toaster. It didn't take long and soon Harry was seated at the table, with a plate of toast and a new cup of tea.

He had just got into the toast and was relaxing in the quiet when it was suddenly pierced. Harry jumped as a screech emanated from the window above the sink. It took him a moment to see the owl seated on the sill, and when he did he walked over and let it in. As he had suspected, it was the Prophet bird, and it was after Hermione.

"She's asleep," Harry told the owl, digging around in his magically bigger pockets for a Knut. The owl waited patiently on the back of his wooden chair while Harry produced the money. He removed the Prophet and gave the owl a small piece of toast to eat whilst he placed the money in its pouch. It hooted appreciatively before springing from the chair and back out the window and up into the sky.

Harry silently returned to his seat and took a sip of his tea before unfolding the paper. He dreaded reading it of a morning, one death after another. It reminded him that while he did nothing, people are dying. Voldemort was his problem, but Harry knew he was no where near ready to fight him yet. It made him feel utterly useless...

He breathed a sigh of relief at the headline. Christmas Festival To Be Held In Diagon Alley To Increase Business. Harry tossed the paper aside, if death wasn't headline news, it was no news at all, which was good. He finished his toast and with a wave of his hands the plate cleaned itself and returned to the cabinet from where he'd got it.

Harry was just about to go upstairs and change into some clean, fresh clothes when he heard something coming from the hall. He strained to hear the sound, it was... somebody trying to open the front door, but it was locked. Harry crept quietly from the kitchen into the hall, his hand tingling with magic as he went. A brief glance at his watched showed him it was coming up eight o'clock. The handle was still being shaken strongly and Harry could hear a groan of frustration from outside. A hundred and one thoughts were running through Harry's head. Was it an enemy? A Death Eater? His fears were squashed though when there was a loud, resounding knock on the door.

A Death Eater wouldn't knock he thought and slightly lowered his hand. Harry remained cautious though, as he clicked the lock open and turned the handle of the door.

"Who are you?" demanded an elderly woman on the step in a strong Barovian accent.

Harry was momentarily at a loss for words at the sight before him. Standing on the door step was an old woman, at least eighty, and behind her were several suitcases and one cat basket containing one huge tabby cat. After a moment Harry finally found his voice. "Who are you?"

"Don't give me that cheek, boy! You must be one of Hermione's friends. I'm Mrs. Granger, her grandmother – and you?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when all the pieces fell into place. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

"Harry?" Her old eyes flickered over him uncertainly, and with a deep sadness. "Well, you can help an old lady with her bags then, Harry. Mind the cat and the green bag has valuable china in it, break it and you'll be sorry."

"But-"

"No buts, boy. You'll do what your elders tell you."

Without even so much as a please or a thank you, Mrs. Granger walked up the steps and into the house. Harry stared at the large amounts of luggage before him and laughed. He had been foolish to think there was a Death Eater at the door and had been foolish to be tricked into carrying this lot inside.

It took Harry ten minutes to lug all the bags into the house to the bottom of the stairs. The cat was most difficult as it scratched at his hands through the plastic bars of its cage. In the end Harry subtly levitated the animal inside.

He had just placed the cat on the pile of bags when Mrs. Granger returned. "Thank you, dear," she said. "Now just up the stairs and it's the second door on the left. Mind the china!"

Harry was still recuperating from lifting the heavy bags inside, the prospect of lugging them up the stairs seemed impossible. Luckily he was saved. "Grandma!" cried an excited voice from the top of the stairs.

Both Harry and Mrs. Granger turned to the voice. "Hermione, dear," said Mrs. Granger as Hermione came bounding down the stairs. "Wonderful to see you again."

"And you," she replied, throwing her arms around her grandmother. "I see you've met, Harry."

"Oh yes, he was just taking my bags upstairs. Weren't you, dear."

Harry opened his mouth to protest and turned to look at Mrs. Granger, and then Hermione, and then the bags, and then the stairs, and then the cat, and then finally back to Mrs. Granger. He lost all his fight. "Yes," he said, realising he wouldn't win an argument and it would just be petty anyway.

Hermione smiled at him and Mrs. Granger did as well, but hers was one of victory. She and Hermione turned and walked up the hall and into the kitchen. "Mind the china," she called back just as she disappeared from sight.

Harry sighed at the bags before him but had a quick idea as he did. Checking to see that Mrs. Granger was nowhere in sight, Harry levitated the first three bags with a wave of his hand. Doing it this way Harry got the bags upstairs and into the second guest room effortlessly, even the damn cat was no trouble.

Once it was done, Harry decided against going back downstairs, lest he get drawn to complete another task, instead he returned to what he was planning to do before Mrs. Granger arrived. He went back into his room to find that Ron was still asleep. After rummaging through his small backpack Harry pulled out a pair of his black jeans and a black collared short sleeve polo shirt. It took him a moment to take everything out of his current pants and place it in the new jeans pocket, but he did.

There was a small bathroom that had a shower attached to their room and Harry found that towels had been set out for their use. Harry showered quickly under the hot spray of the water, it was refreshing. He stood under the spray and thought about how today had already been really eventful and he'd only been up three hours.

After showering Harry used his wand to shave. It was one of the few things he still used his wand for, it was a lot more accurate than his hand and a lot less painful too, considering a razor sprang out of the end of the wand. Might hurt a bit, he thought, if it came out of my hand.

Harry had been practising wandless magic whenever he could, and he avoided using his wand wherever possible. The reason: if he duelled with Voldemort, the brother wand affect probably wouldn't happen if he didn't use his wand. Or at least Harry hoped that when the time came it wouldn't. He was almost proficient in all magic that could be easily done with a wand. He hadn't tried a Patronus without a wand, nor the Apparation spell, and he wasn't in a hurry to either.

Harry emerged from the bathroom fresh and wearing clean clothes. He stepped back into the room just as Ron was rising. "Morning," said Harry brightly, waving his hand so the curtains shielding the window across the room opened.

Ron cringed and sat up in bed cursing as sunlight assaulted his eyes. "Bloody hell, Harry," he moaned, grabbing some clothes out of his bag and standing up. "It's too damn early."

"It's gone eight, and I've been up several hours."

Ron mumbled something incoherently as he passed Harry and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Harry smiled and shook his head at Ron's inability to function after just waking up.

Half an hour later all three of them were sitting around the table with Hermione's grandmother. There was small conversation as Harry offered to cook the breakfast. A decade of doing it for the Dursleys meant it was second nature. He cooked the bacon and eggs with toast, but he himself had cereal.

There was careful conversation around Mrs. Granger, as she didn't know anything about the magical world. It would take too much to explain right now and she was better off not knowing. So that pretty much excluded Ron from saying anything.

After breakfast Mrs. Granger announced she was going to bed, having been travelling all night she was tired. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at this, he found her very bossy, as did Ron, but neither of them mentioned this to Hermione.

"So what are we doing today then?" asked Ron, finishing his breakfast and pushing the plate aside.

"Let's go into town," said Hermione happily. "There are shops and we can get lunch and have Christmas fun!"

"Christmas fun?" commented Harry, whilst Ron just laughed.

Hermione smiled sheepishly but smiled just the same. "I'll go get ready. Be about half an hour. Why don't you show Ron the TV, Harry."

As Hermione went up the stairs, Harry and Ron went into the living room and sat down on the plush leather sofa. "Is that the thing that Muggles watch moving pictures on?" asked Ron. Harry nodded and picked up the remote control, he also noticed the Christmas tree in the corner. It was real and roughly seven feet high, it was decorated very efficiently. It looked good. He hit the button and the screen came to life.

To say Ron was amazed would have been an understatement. After pulling the remote off Harry he began flicking through every channel faster than it was humanly possible to watch it. It being Christmas, most of the stations were showing Christmas movies and cartoons. "Muggles are amazing," said Ron shaking his head. "I'll have to ask Dad if we can get one of these..."

The channel-hopping continued all the way until Hermione came bounding down the stairs. She was dressed casually for a day in town, jumper and jeans and she had her hair tied back in a knot. Harry stood up and walked across the room to her. "Ready, Ron?"

It took Ron a moment to figure out how to turn the television off, but he got there in the end. "Let's go," Hermione said happily, grasping Ron's hand in her own and opening the front door.

It had warmed up a little bit outside now, since Harry had sat on his own, and it was now just above freezing. There was no snow at the moment, but the clouds above threatened it. As they walked down the path a cool wind blew and Harry pulled his jacket closer around himself. Harry also saw a brief flicker of orange light as they passed the gate and was sure no one else did, he left it for now.

"How far is it in to town then?" he asked once they were out on the sidewalk.

"From here it's... three miles-" said Hermione.

"Three miles!" cried Ron.

Hermione just smiled. "That's why we're walking twenty yards to the bus stop."

Harry laughed and Ron did as well, but his was with relief. They didn't have to wait long for a bus. It being Christmas Eve, they were every five minutes. The old bus came to a hard stop on the slippery road in front of them and the doors separated with a small hiss. "All aboard," said Hermione happily.

The bus was decked out for Christmas. Well the bus company had made an effort anyway. There was tinsel draped across the windows complete with flashing green lights and the bus driver himself was wearing a Santa hat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione took seats up the back of the bus and soon they were off.

Harry hadn't told Hermione about his talk with her parents yet, but he felt like he should. The problem now was the bus was carrying about ten Muggles, he'd have to be careful when he spoke. "Your parents asked me some things this morning," he whispered.

Hermione turned to look at him sharply. "You were up that early?"

"Just recurring Voldemort dreams, nothing to worry about. Anyway your parents..."

"What did they ask, and what did you tell them?"

Harry thought for a moment. "They found a book you left at the beginning of the year. Famous Witches and Wizards of the Twentieth Century, some of the pages were bookmarked, are you following me?"

Hermione nodded grimly. "They asked you about him." Harry nodded now.

"What did you tell them?" asked Ron.

"The truth," shrugged Harry. "You told me to be honest, so I was."

"Yes, but how honest were you?"

Harry thought about this again. "They know about Voldemort, and his rebirth, and that he's started another war. They also know you're in danger for knowing me..."

Hermione blinked and looked down. "I'd rather be in danger than not know you," she said quietly, while Ron nodded.

Harry smiled. "I know, and I told them that. I also told them about the protection at Hogwarts. They're glad you can be safe from him there."

Hermione sighed with relief. "I was worried that maybe they'd want to take me out of Hogwarts..."

"They did mention that," said Harry. "But I explained there was no safer place than Hogwarts."

"Thanks, Harry," said Hermione, squeezing his hand as the bus came to a stop.

"It's okay," he replied as the bus started moving again.

"They can't just stop you going to Hogwarts, though, can they?" asked Ron.

Hermione frowned. "I suppose they could, until I'm of age I think they could."

"But they won't," Harry assured Ron. "They know it's the safest place to be."

The conversation turned to lighter topics as the bus wound its way through the suburbs of Abingdon. Eventually the houses were replaced by shops and businesses, and Hermione reached over and pushed the button for the bell.

The three of them emerged on a busy street that was packed with shoppers going to and fro from shop to shop, all trying to get in some last Christmas shopping. Harry found it a lot noisier than what he was used to. This wasn't Hogsmeade, there were cars and buses and hundreds of people. It was very suffocating.

"What are we going to do now then?" he asked.

"Not sure," said Hermione, while Ron shrugged. "Do any of you need to go shopping?"

"Did it all in Hogsmeade," Harry said, though mindful of the people passing.

There was silence for a moment, while no ideas came to mind. Harry watched the passers by with caution. However safe he felt at the Grangers, that was lost when he left the house. Any one of the hundreds of people in this shopping district could be a Death Eater, with a wand at the ready. Crowds made him nervous.

"I know," said Hermione quickly, bringing Harry out of his thoughts. "We could go to the pictures."

"The what?" asked Ron.

"The movie theatre," said Harry.

"The what?" asked Ron again.

Hermione smiled and Harry laughed, putting his hands in his pockets. "I think it better if we show you, Ron," smiled Hermione, taking his hand again. "Come on, there's one in the shopping centre around the corner."

Harry found himself walking behind Ron and Hermione, with a good view of the street ahead, whilst protecting them from behind. He didn't voice his concerns to them, as he was probably just worrying about nothing, but he was nervous about being out in the open. Harry wondered briefly, as they walked past nicely decorated shops and across an intersection, as to when he would ever feel safe to do something as simple as walking down the street without worrying that someone might jump out and try to kill him or his friends. Without having to constantly worry about war and death, when he could be normal. The answer, sadly, he realised, was never... Voldemort would not go silently, if he went at all and even after that he may not be safe – if he survived the battle that was.

Harry felt it coming, the final battle, the end. He knew it was just over the horizon, a year or two at best before the fight would be decided, one way or another... He watched Ron and Hermione as he walked; saw the small smiles they gave each other, they were, for use of a better phrase, in love with one another. And that made him smile, but then he thought of the prophecy. Could he ever tell them of it? Of his Fate? Kill or be killed...

He was sure they'd understand and support him all the way. And that's what scared him. They would support him all the way. Despite the fear they both held for Voldemort they would both want to be there when he faced him for the final time. Harry didn't want that, he couldn't see them there. They would be a distraction, he thought. I'd have to look out for their safety, when I should be fighting him...

But in a small corner of his mind, Harry realised that they should be there. It was his fight, that much was clear, but the road he took to get there would be one he shared with his friends. There was no other reasoning to be done. They'd be there, at the end, by his side as he fought for the world. By his side just like the past six years...

His thoughts had taken him all the way to a car park that held about fifteen-hundred cars. It was the car park for the shopping centre that stood about four-hundred metres away. There were signs for all types of shops that they past as they walked. About a dozen for fast food alone and fifty for retail outlets and clothes shops. There was also one that said quite clearly: Grand Cinemas.

Hermione was leading them towards what Harry supposed was the main entrance to the shopping complex. They passed by busy shoppers and dodged cars as they crossed the parking lot. After a few minutes they reached the entrance to what the sign said was Abingdon Shopping Centre.

They entered the giant building. Ron's first reaction was to stand with his mouth hanging open as he took in the shopping centre. Harry was not that impressed. If he was honest he liked the quiet of Hogsmeade village better. This was too loud, and filled with too much commercialism. It was strange how life at Hogwarts made him forget places like this. At least it should be relatively quiet in the movie theatre, he thought as Hermione showed Ron subtly how to use the escalator.

They took the escalator up twice and got off on the third floor. The entrance to the cinema, according to the directional sign posts, was at the end of this floor. It didn't take the three of them long to find it, nor would it have been hard to miss as the big bright neon lights reflected down upon them. Harry could see Ron was excited, and he could see that Hermione was looking happy as well. He supposed he was enjoying the day.

The movies were busy. It appeared every parent in the town had had the bright idea of taking their kids to the see a movie on Christmas Eve, as a way to pass the time. Again Harry found himself scanning the crowds for anyone that looked suspicious. "What should we see?" asked Hermione excitedly when they reached the film information board.

"You two should decide," said Ron, "I have absolutely no idea about what's going on. And... and what is that smell?"

"Popcorn," said Harry. And then added. "In a minute."

"Okay... what's on...?" Hermione said to herself. "How about Independence Day?"

Harry picked up a leaflet from the desk that advertised the movie. He read from it: "It is an ordinary summer day. But then, without warning, something very extraordinary happens. Enormous shadows fall across the land. Strange atmospheric phenomena, ominous and mesmerizing, surface around the globe. All eyes turn upward. The question of whether we're alone in the universe has finally been answered. And, in a matter of minutes, the lives of every person across the globe are forever changed. With the fate of our planet at stake, the Fourth of July is about to take on an entirely new meaning. No longer will it be an American holiday. It will be known as the day the entire world fought back. The day we did not go silently into the good night... The day all of us on planet Earth celebrated our independence day..."

"I understood three words in all of that," said Ron happily.

"Sounds very action packed and American," commented Hermione.

Harry laughed. "What else is there?"

Hermione read the board. "William Shakespeare's: Romeo and Juliet, starring Leonardo Dicaprio. Jerry Maguire, starring Tom Cruise. Bulletproof starring Adam Sandler. The Hunch Back of Notre Dame..."

Harry stared at the board in silence for a moment. "You know, five and a half years in a different world and I have no idea who or what these people and movies are."

"Let's just go see that first one," said Ron, figuring out how to properly read the electric board. "Look, it starts in ten minutes."

So it was decided. "Independence Day, then," agreed Hermione and Harry. "Let's go buy the tickets.”

As they walked over to the ticket counter, Harry pulled out his money bag and removed two ten pound notes from within. He still had a roll of the Muggle money that he had got changed in Diagon Alley back in September. Hermione also pulled a ten pound note out of her purse, but Ron, Ron took a few Galleons out of his pocket.

"You can't use those," said Harry. "Here." Harry tried to give Ron a ten pound note but he wouldn't accept it. Ever since his dad had become the acting Minister, Ron hadn't been bad off for money. He'd even had some new robes and books sent to Hogwarts for him, but he was still touchy on the subject. Harry sighed. "All right, give me a galleon for it."

"Yeah... that's fair," agreed Ron with a smile, trading Harry a galleon for a ten pound note.

"Why don't you go get popcorn and I'll get the tickets," said Harry, noticing the long line at both counters. "It won't take as long then."

Ron and Hermione agreed and went off to pay for the popcorn, whilst Harry got the tickets. Hermione changed Ron's ten pound note down into coins so she could give Harry some money for the tickets, and they were off.

Harry walked over to the back of the queue and placed his hands in his pockets, having his first real look around the cinema. There was neon bands of blue and gold light on everything, including the ceiling that was pin pricked with little bulbs of light that resembled stars. The floor had a repetitive spiral pattern in the same colours of the lights and the counters were of a same pattern.

The line quickly shortened and it wasn't long before Harry found himself second in the line. He could see Ron and Hermione across the plaza waiting in line at the sweet shop. Ron was still gazing around at the sights around him and Hermione was having a hard time making it appear that Ron was nothing more than a Muggle, especially when he laughed at the machine which dispensed the popcorn.

Harry smiled and shook his head as he moved ahead in the line to the ticket desk. "Why, you're a looker," said the young woman from behind the desk with a smile.

Harry was momentarily taken back by the suddenness of this greeting. He looked at the girl behind the desk and didn't have to be told that she was attractive; he could see that for himself. She had shoulder length brown hair that just brushed her shoulders, blue eyes that at the moment were looking Harry up and down appreciatively. She was dressed in the uniform for this theatre. Though her attitude reminded him strongly of Luna Lovegood, quick and to the point.

"Er- Thanks," he said. "Three for Independence Day, please."

She smiled a very suggestive smile. "You and your girlfriend here to see the movie?" she asked innocently, typing on the screen.

"No... no, just here with my friends."

"Really," she smiled again and turned to look at him as the tickets printed. Harry saw her eyes flick to his forehead and was sure she took in the scar. At the moment it was slightly red as it hadn't scabbed over from the last time it had opened. "Nasty looking scar you've got there," she said, nodding towards the scar.

“You should see it when it gets pissed off,” Harry said, handing over some money for the tickets without any further explanation. "Nice talking to you," he said taking the tickets.

"And you," she smiled again, confused but happy.

Harry smiled and walked away. He found his friends waiting for him with drinks and popcorn at the barrier to the screens. "Hi," he said, accepting a box of popcorn and drink from Hermione. He handed the three tickets over to the bloke standing on guard.

"Cinema two," he said roughly without even looking at them and tearing the ticket in half, handing the stubs back to Harry.

Five minutes later the three of them were seated up the back row of cinema two as the room slowly filled up around them. By the time the film started it was roughly half full, and no one paid them any particular attention up in the back corner of the room. It wasn't long before the film started.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Ron's reaction to the film. The lights and sounds made him jump and Hermione was spending the better part of the film explaining to Ron what special effects were, and how entire cities hadn't really been destroyed, nor was the planet under invasion from an alien species hell bent on killing us all.

The plot didn't seem to matter to Ron, though; he seemed to be more interested in listening to Hermione's explanations. Harry smiled at this; he himself didn't much care for the film. Sure it made him laugh in parts but it was all too explosive.

"That was bloody brilliant," announced Ron upon emerging from cinema two. "Muggles do have some good ideas," he said shaking his head.

"That Will Smith is a good actor," commented Harry, throwing his rubbish into the bin as he passed. "Who's for some lunch?"

Ron nodded, as did Hermione. Ten minutes later they were sitting in a little café that was part of the food court at the shopping centre. A small place called The Lakeside Café, which didn't make any sense considering they weren't anywhere near a lake. Anyway, Harry ordered a burger and chips, so did Ron. Hermione ordered a salad.

As they ate Hermione talked about Christmas tomorrow. Harry briefly looked at his watch as she talked and realized it was two o'clock. That movie had to have been at least two hours long, he thought, finishing his burger.

After lunch the three of them decided it would probably be best if they went back home. Harry was inwardly relieved, as he knew the wards were a very good protection. He'd figured out that the brief flash of orange light that he had seen upon leaving the Grangers had in fact been the wards, and he felt that they were strong.

Two hours later they were home. Hermione had insisted on going to the shops first and buying some chocolate and sweets for Christmas tomorrow. So it was about four thirty when they finally opened the door to the house and stepped into the warmth.

Harry and Ron went upstairs, while Hermione went into the living room. Harry placed his jacket across the back of his bed and took of his shoes and socks, Ron did the same. "That movie was really... different," said Ron, sitting down on his bed.

"You enjoyed it though," replied Harry, picking up his backpack and rummaging around in it.

"What you looking for?"

"For the presents I brought. You know, so I can put them under the tree."

"Ah!" said Ron. "I knew I'd forgotten something I had to do." He pulled open his own bag and began rummaging.

The rest of the afternoon was spent downstairs in front of the television. Hermione's grandmother came down the stairs at one point and asked Harry to help he lift her suitcases into the cupboard. Harry, not wanting to upset anyone, obliged, while Ron struggled to hide his laughter.

"So you go to the same school as Hermione, dear?" asked Mrs. Granger.

"Yeah... yeah I do."

"Fine school that," she said nodding. Harry had no idea what she was talking about, she didn't know of Hogwarts, so she must be talking about some other boarding school. "How long are you staying here, boy?"

"Until the twenty eighth," he answered, lifting her suitcase up onto the top of the cupboard with difficulty. "You?"

"I'll be heading back to Windermere on boxing day. Don't like to leave all my cats..."

Harry nodded but didn't say anything. She had so much luggage and she was only here for two days! With a heavy sigh he lifted the final suitcase up and began panting heavily. Were they full of bricks? he thought, as he began to make his way towards the door.

"Wait a minute, dear," said Mrs. Granger. Harry stopped and turned, dreading having to move another suitcase or cat. "Have a humbug, dear," she said smiling, offering a small white paper bag to him.

Harry smiled and removed one of the small liquorice sweets from within. "Thanks," he said, popping it into his mouth before heading back downstairs. He was on the fifth step from the bottom when the front door opened and in walked Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Apparently it had started snowing outside, because a strong breeze followed them in bringing snow flakes with it.

"Brrr..." shivered Mrs. Granger, removing her coat and placing it on the hook. "Oh! Harry," she said spotting him. "How was your day?"

"Fine," he said continuing down the stairs. "We showed Ron a movie theatre, he was stunned."

Mr. Granger laughed. "Did my mother arrive?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah. She's upstairs with a cat, I was just helping her with her luggage."

Brian Granger thanked him and moved up the stairs. Mrs. Granger meanwhile was staring at him.

"What?" he asked self consciously.

"I just wanted to thank you again," she said, "for the answers this morning."

Harry smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'd want to know if I were you."

"Thanks just the same." There was a moment of silence. "I best start dinner," Mrs. Granger finally said, walking away towards the kitchen.

Harry stood in thought for a moment before sighing and entering the living room again. "Did I hear my parents?" asked Hermione as Harry took a seat.

"Yep," he said sucking on the humbug. "Your mum's in the kitchen."

"What's that you're eating?" asked Ron.

"Humbug," answered Harry.

"From grandma?" asked Hermione. Harry nodded. "Oh, that means she likes you."

"Likes me to help lift her luggage,” he ended and Ron laughed.

Dinner that night was a simple steak and mash, but Harry enjoyed the atmosphere at the table. It felt good to talk about normal everyday things at a normal everyday dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Granger talked about their day at work, while Grandma Granger went through a list of her latest cat ailments, and Ron and Hermione talked about the day in town.

Harry was happy just to listen in the warmth as he sipped the red wine that Mrs. Granger had bought. This was how he imagined family, and although it wasn't his, he was just glad to be part of it for now.

Harry felt very full and happy as he and Ron and Hermione walked up the stairs at nine thirty. They said their goodnights quickly and after brushing his teeth, Harry fell cosily into bed. It had been a good day, he thought as sleep began to take hold. And tomorrow, Christmas, promised to be just as good...

*~*~*~*