Why Do You Love Me?
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
9,621
Reviews:
42
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
9,621
Reviews:
42
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Rescue
Response to Reviews: Wow, a lot of people reviewed this time! I’m amazed, thank you all for all of your awesome compliments; keep ‘em coming!
Thrnbrooke: “I wouldn’t be surprised if his “gifts” turned up at Hogwarts so he had “proof” he was at the party.” Good way to be thinking, but Hogwarts is a little ways away; they probably won’t get there for at least another two or three chapters. But you never know; maybe they will. :wink:
FallenMadness88: Wish granted; no more suffering! At least…not for this chapter…
No one heard Vernon whipping Harry because they tuned it out, I suppose. Of course, on a subconscious level, they probably knew what was happening, but they chose to ignore it. I’m flattered that you love my stories; I love your reviews to no end as well!
Thank you to all others who have reviewed; I cannot thank you enough! You all give me motivation to keep this fic alive. (Hippogriffluver, PaddycakePadfoot, Susan Hoopman, Draco8448, GlenWing, Alexander, scully, Alison, yaoigirl626, Thrnbrooke, and FallenMadness88.)
Sorry for the late post, but from now on I should be posting regularly on the weekends.
Harry stared up at his ceiling dejectedly. There were still four hours until the big rescue, and even after all that had happened to Harry, he still felt incredibly bored. Of course, although he knew that he should feel something different from what he was currently feeling, something along the lines of depression or something, he was in a state where he could actually feel almost nothing at all. Confused and a little annoyed with himself at the turn of his thoughts, Harry frowned and sat up, staring around his nearly-empty room to double-check and see if he had left anything unpacked.
The wound on his forehead throbbed slightly, and Harry frowned a little more as his eyes scanned the room, which was pretty much bare except for the furniture that had been provided for him. Harry sighed and glared at his pile of odds and ends that would never again see this room. For about the hundredth time that day, Harry strongly wished that he could perform magic while out of school, because shrinking his luggage and taking it with him would be a whole lot faster than waiting for Arthur to shrink his luggage for him.
…
…
…
Draco Malfoy smirked proudly at his reflection as he spelled the rest of his glamour charm away. His hair faded from that of the darkest of blacks to his own pale golden locks in a matter of seconds. “Well done, Draco,” He said to his reflection with a widening smirk. He looked down at the fluttering golden snitch held in his right hand with the initials H.P. emblazoned into one side.
He knew that the dumb Weasel had spent almost his entire life’s savings on the petty thing, and grinned fully at his reflection as he realized that he had been able to snatch it from that no good, meddling Potter, right under his nose. Although, it was a mystery as to why the real Potter had never arrived at his own birthday party.
Of course, when Draco had arrived at Hogsmeade, he had had no intention of crashing Potter’s wretched party. But curiosity had gotten the best of him, and he had snuck in undetected while the stupid mud-blood had been lighting the candles to Potter’s birthday cake. No one had been worried that Potter had not been at the party yet; he was known to always be a little late for everything. Draco supposed that he could ‘step in’ as Potter, at least until he came; then he could slip away to a loo or something, and take the charm off. He would be able to loom and spy on his nemesis without being noticed; after all, half of Hogwarts had been at the Three Broomsticks, including some of the less spiteful Slytherins. Draco doubted that he would be caught and even if he was, he highly doubted that he’d be kicked out.
What a shock it had been when he had ended up intruding on the party for its entirety; Potter never showed. Draco had walked away full-handed and content to have taken at least something that may have held a semblance of importance to Harry had he known what he was receiving. And, in the least, Potter would be angry with him for intruding…if he ever found out that it had been Draco in the first place. Draco smirked at the thought and lifted a silver comb to his hair.
…
…
…
Harry took one last look out his window before throwing it open and waving wildly to Arthur, who waved back enthusiastically with a huge smile. Harry then grabbed Hedwig’s cage and opened it quickly, allowing her to fly out the window. “Meet me at the Burrow, okay?” He asked. Hedwig hooted an affirmative before flying off, and Harry smiled softly. Arthur was early.
Arthur ambled up the walk slowly, a grin plastered on his face. Harry would never have to return to this muggle facility ever again! Although, it was quite a shame. Muggles were such interesting creatures. Arthur hoped that one day he would know all there was to know about muggles; he was expecting word from the Muggle Studies section of the ministry any day now, talking about a certain promotion that Arthur was sure he would be getting. His smile faded slightly when the door was immediately yanked open and he was pulled quickly inside.
“Hurry, you!” A fat, purple-faced man cried out as he slammed the door. “The sooner you leave this house, the better.”
Of course, not all muggles were good. Arthur knew this. Muggles were similar to wizards, in this way at least. Arthur smiled warmly at the muggle in question; Virgil, or something along those lines, wasn‘t it? Arthur never had been very good with names. “Of course, Mr. Dursley.” Arthur said as he pried his thin frame away from that of the thick man who was holding him strongly in place. “Where’s Harry, if you please.”
Vernon paled considerably. “Up in his room,” He said stiffly, yanking his arms to his side and standing stiff as a board.
“If you could just-”
“Hi, Arthur,” Harry greeted as he stood at the top of the stairs. “I’m ready to go; my stuff’s just upstairs. Do you think you could help me shrink it down? I can‘t do magic yet, you know.”
Arthur’s smile turned into a slight frown as he followed Harry up the stairs. “It doesn’t make sense, this new rule they’ve put in place.”
Harry smiled bitterly as he opened the door to his soon-to-be-former room. “I’ll bet they put it into affect because they knew that I have to vanquish the dark lord, and they want to charge me with something or another. They’ve always got to make the hero out to be a bad person, didn’t you know?”
“Harry, I know how you feel towards them, but I do work there, you know.”
Harry blinked at Arthur for a few moments, then nodded slightly. “Yeah, I know.” Harry lifted Hedwig’s cage and held it up for Arthur to shrink.
“Just leave the lot of it as it was. It’ll be a lot faster to shrink them all down at once.” Arthur said and Harry nodded, putting the cage back to where it had formerly sat. “I’ll be expecting a promotion to Muggle Studies soon,” Arthur commented as he waved his wand at Harry’s luggage. Harry watched smugly as his belongings were shrunk to smaller than a fly and quickly pocketed them, listening intently to all that Arthur had to say. “Going to be learning quite a lot about them, actually. They’re similar to Wizards in quite a few ways.”
“We’re all human,” Harry said in agreement. He took one final look around the room, then nodded to Arthur, who was staring at Harry questioningly.
“You look much better for wear than you did when you first got here,” Arthur commented.
Harry shot a small smile in Arthur’s direction. “I sort of forgot to tell my relatives that I’m not allowed to do magic quite yet. They’ve been treating me a lot nicer this summer for some reason.” Harry smirked as he led Arthur down the stairs and to the front door of the house that he hoped never to see again.
He left out the fact that he was limping slightly, though it wasn’t quite pronounced, so Arthur probably hadn’t noticed it yet. And he also emitted the fact that he had used a glamour on himself seconds before Arthur came, in order to cover up all the bruises. Of course, he wasn’t allowed to do magic yet, but the Ministry had probably stopped radar-ing the house for a few hours in order for Arthur to pick him up, and Harry deemed it a rather important matter that he make himself presentable; if Hermione hadn’t believed his letter, which had been written in blood, then she probably wouldn’t believe a few scrapes and bruises. She would probably think that they were self inflicted, and insist that the Weasley’s check him into St. Mungo’s.
“That wasn’t very nice of you, Harry,” Arthur said sternly, but the way his eyes twinkled in mirth totally bellied the sternness of his voice. “I’m sure your relatives would have liked to know.”
Harry shrugged. “There were a lot of things that I wanted to know last year, too. Like the fact that we were planning on having Dumbledore “killed.” That would have been nice to know ahead of time. And the fact that Malfoy,” Harry shuddered at the name the way someone else would have shuddered at the name Voldemort, before continuing. “Had decided to join our rankings instead of Vol-uh…You Know Who. You don‘t always get what you want, Arthur.” Harry said it lightly, jokingly, but inside, Harry meant every word that he had said.
Arthur sighed and nodded. “I know, Harry, and I’m sorry! But with your link to the Dark Lord, we had no way of knowing…” He trailed off at the sight of Harry’s uncle looming just in the foyer. “Maybe this isn’t the best of places to talk about this. We’ll talk about it when we get to Number 12, okay?”
Harry nodded with a sigh, and locked his eyes with Vernon’s. “Vernon,” Harry said with a nod. “I hope I never see you again.” With that, he turned on his heel and reached out for the door, but was stopped by a sharp blow on his right shoulder blade.
“What was that, boy?” Vernon asked sharply, beady eyes glistening.
“Mister Dursley!” Arthur exclaimed with a loud intake of breath. “Unhand him this instant!”
“Stay out of this, you! This is a family matter and does not concern the likes of you!” Vernon spat.
Arthur looked between Vernon and Harry desperately. When he made eye contact with Harry’s panicked eyes, Arthur nodded to himself and raised his wand to point directly at Vernon. “Impedimenta!” Then he quickly raised his wand as high into the air as he could and shouted, “Expecto Patronum!” A silvery beaver shot from the tip of his wand, and though it wasn’t quite as big as Harry’s stag, nor as powerful, it still served its purpose. The shimmering beaver quickly shot through the ceiling of the Dursleys’ home and called upon an official of the Ministry of Magic to inform him of misgivings. The man apparated instantly to the doorstep of the Dursleys’ home and burst through the door quickly as the beaver retreated back into Arthur‘s wand.
“What seems to be the problem?!” The man shouted. His eyes were franticly searching the room for the cause of the problem, and they immediately rested on Vernon, who was still in mid-stride and making very little progress to the place where Harry had once stood.
Harry stood out on the stoop and eyed the ministry official guardedly, arms folded over his chest protectively. The man was wearing deep red robes that were three sizes too small, his large bulge of a stomach sticking out prominently. A few of the buttons on his robes threatened to pop off, but thankfully they stayed in their respectful places. The man’s hair was a light grey, but he was balding severely. His eyes were a dark blue and they were broiling with panic as he took in the image of a very angry Vernon.
Harry’s shoulder was throbbing painfully, and he was afraid that the blow to it earlier had caused one of his wounds to re-open. Though no one could see the blood because of the glamour he had put upon himself, Harry could feel it trickling slowly down his spine and shuddered. “All right there, Harry?”
Harry nodded and covered up his grimace of pain with a faked sneeze, which caused him to burst into a coughing fit because of the pain it caused him. “Yeah,” Harry wheezed out after the coughs had subsided. “Just fine.”
“A punch that hard ought to have left a bruise.” Arthur said, eyeing Harry critically for any signs of weakness. “Any clue why he would have done it?”
Harry shook his head swiftly and averted his eyes.
“He seems easily put off, if you ask me,” Arthur said, eyes drifting over to the large man in question. He was currently being Obliterated by the Ministry Official. Harry’s eyes trailed down to his feet.
“Yeah,” Harry answered, an anxious feeling swelling in the pit of his stomach and spreading, causing his whole body to shake. “I, uh…can we go now?” Harry asked.
“Don’t you think we ought to have someone look at that shoulder of yours?” Arthur asked, eyeing Harry again.
“No,” Harry said, careful to make sure that he didn’t respond too quickly. “I’ve had worse. I’m okay, he barely nicked me.”
Arthur nodded slightly, then looked over to the man who was currently asking Vernon what he remembered of that night. Vernon was in the middle of a response. “What the bleeding hell are you peop-”
“All right there, Pete?” Arthur cut in by asking the short, balding man.
The man named Pete nodded. “Yup. I’ve got it all handled. You’re free to go if you want to, Harry,” Pete said, tossing Harry an appraising look.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed quickly, and made his way across the Dursleys’ front lawn to the small red car that was parked in front of their home. He walked to the passenger side and got in, and watched as Arthur made his way to the car as well.
“Harry,” Arthur began as he strapped himself into the car and turned to face the aforementioned raven-haired teen. “Is something wrong? You seem a bit peaky.”
Harry shook his head. “I’m just…tired, that’s all.”
“Ah,” Arthur said with a knowing smile. “Up all night in excitement, then?” He asked.
Harry averted his gaze to outside the window. “You could say that.” Then Harry glanced over at the steering wheel pointedly. “You gonna start it, or are we just gonna sit here all day?”
“Oh, erm…” Arthur flushed slightly. “I haven’t driven for a while. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m a bit rusty.”
Harry nodded. “It’s okay, Mr. Weasley. Really,”
“Ronald has been looking forward to this visit since before your birthday.” Arthur said as he turned the key and shifted the car carefully onto the road. “I hope you’ve brought your money, though. We’re going school shopping day after tomorrow.”
“I can get some there, can’t I?” Harry asked, a confused glance shot towards Arthur.
“Oh, heavens, no!” Arthur exclaimed, shooting Harry a concerned look. “Haven’t you been reading the Prophet?”
Harry looked questioningly at Arthur. “No,” Harry said, confusion turning his eyes a murky moss-green. “Why?”
“There have been at least ten attempted break-ins ever since summer started,” Arthur explained as he turned the car right. They continued to drive straight until the Dursleys’ home was out of sight, and Harry could have sworn he saw a large, blonde-headed boy staring after their car forlornly as they went. “Gringotts has been shut down.”
Harry looked at Arthur, eyes wide. “But…it can’t be! I don’t have any money, Mr. Weasley.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right, my boy. We’ll figure out some way to get you money.”
Harry looked worriedly at Arthur. “It’s not a problem, is it? If I’d have known they were going to shut down, I would have gone and gotten some money out before they did!”
“Oh, what a wonderful idea! We’ll go and do that tomorrow, and then after we get everything we need, we’ll go to your house.”
“My house?” Harry looked at Arthur as if he had gone nutters. “I don’t ever want to go back there! My house, indeed.”
Arthur smiled. “No, Harry, your other house!”
Harry blinked in confusion for a few moments until it dawned on him. “Oh! Okay. Wait…what did you mean, “we’ll go get some money tomorrow”? Didn’t you say that Gringotts has been shut down?”
Arthur smiled softly, but didn’t say anything more. When they were out of sight of any muggles, Arthur pushed the invisible button, then pulled back on the steering wheel, and they took off into the air. Shortly after Arthur had gone silent, Harry fell asleep.
Thrnbrooke: “I wouldn’t be surprised if his “gifts” turned up at Hogwarts so he had “proof” he was at the party.” Good way to be thinking, but Hogwarts is a little ways away; they probably won’t get there for at least another two or three chapters. But you never know; maybe they will. :wink:
FallenMadness88: Wish granted; no more suffering! At least…not for this chapter…
No one heard Vernon whipping Harry because they tuned it out, I suppose. Of course, on a subconscious level, they probably knew what was happening, but they chose to ignore it. I’m flattered that you love my stories; I love your reviews to no end as well!
Thank you to all others who have reviewed; I cannot thank you enough! You all give me motivation to keep this fic alive. (Hippogriffluver, PaddycakePadfoot, Susan Hoopman, Draco8448, GlenWing, Alexander, scully, Alison, yaoigirl626, Thrnbrooke, and FallenMadness88.)
Sorry for the late post, but from now on I should be posting regularly on the weekends.
Harry stared up at his ceiling dejectedly. There were still four hours until the big rescue, and even after all that had happened to Harry, he still felt incredibly bored. Of course, although he knew that he should feel something different from what he was currently feeling, something along the lines of depression or something, he was in a state where he could actually feel almost nothing at all. Confused and a little annoyed with himself at the turn of his thoughts, Harry frowned and sat up, staring around his nearly-empty room to double-check and see if he had left anything unpacked.
The wound on his forehead throbbed slightly, and Harry frowned a little more as his eyes scanned the room, which was pretty much bare except for the furniture that had been provided for him. Harry sighed and glared at his pile of odds and ends that would never again see this room. For about the hundredth time that day, Harry strongly wished that he could perform magic while out of school, because shrinking his luggage and taking it with him would be a whole lot faster than waiting for Arthur to shrink his luggage for him.
…
…
…
Draco Malfoy smirked proudly at his reflection as he spelled the rest of his glamour charm away. His hair faded from that of the darkest of blacks to his own pale golden locks in a matter of seconds. “Well done, Draco,” He said to his reflection with a widening smirk. He looked down at the fluttering golden snitch held in his right hand with the initials H.P. emblazoned into one side.
He knew that the dumb Weasel had spent almost his entire life’s savings on the petty thing, and grinned fully at his reflection as he realized that he had been able to snatch it from that no good, meddling Potter, right under his nose. Although, it was a mystery as to why the real Potter had never arrived at his own birthday party.
Of course, when Draco had arrived at Hogsmeade, he had had no intention of crashing Potter’s wretched party. But curiosity had gotten the best of him, and he had snuck in undetected while the stupid mud-blood had been lighting the candles to Potter’s birthday cake. No one had been worried that Potter had not been at the party yet; he was known to always be a little late for everything. Draco supposed that he could ‘step in’ as Potter, at least until he came; then he could slip away to a loo or something, and take the charm off. He would be able to loom and spy on his nemesis without being noticed; after all, half of Hogwarts had been at the Three Broomsticks, including some of the less spiteful Slytherins. Draco doubted that he would be caught and even if he was, he highly doubted that he’d be kicked out.
What a shock it had been when he had ended up intruding on the party for its entirety; Potter never showed. Draco had walked away full-handed and content to have taken at least something that may have held a semblance of importance to Harry had he known what he was receiving. And, in the least, Potter would be angry with him for intruding…if he ever found out that it had been Draco in the first place. Draco smirked at the thought and lifted a silver comb to his hair.
…
…
…
Harry took one last look out his window before throwing it open and waving wildly to Arthur, who waved back enthusiastically with a huge smile. Harry then grabbed Hedwig’s cage and opened it quickly, allowing her to fly out the window. “Meet me at the Burrow, okay?” He asked. Hedwig hooted an affirmative before flying off, and Harry smiled softly. Arthur was early.
Arthur ambled up the walk slowly, a grin plastered on his face. Harry would never have to return to this muggle facility ever again! Although, it was quite a shame. Muggles were such interesting creatures. Arthur hoped that one day he would know all there was to know about muggles; he was expecting word from the Muggle Studies section of the ministry any day now, talking about a certain promotion that Arthur was sure he would be getting. His smile faded slightly when the door was immediately yanked open and he was pulled quickly inside.
“Hurry, you!” A fat, purple-faced man cried out as he slammed the door. “The sooner you leave this house, the better.”
Of course, not all muggles were good. Arthur knew this. Muggles were similar to wizards, in this way at least. Arthur smiled warmly at the muggle in question; Virgil, or something along those lines, wasn‘t it? Arthur never had been very good with names. “Of course, Mr. Dursley.” Arthur said as he pried his thin frame away from that of the thick man who was holding him strongly in place. “Where’s Harry, if you please.”
Vernon paled considerably. “Up in his room,” He said stiffly, yanking his arms to his side and standing stiff as a board.
“If you could just-”
“Hi, Arthur,” Harry greeted as he stood at the top of the stairs. “I’m ready to go; my stuff’s just upstairs. Do you think you could help me shrink it down? I can‘t do magic yet, you know.”
Arthur’s smile turned into a slight frown as he followed Harry up the stairs. “It doesn’t make sense, this new rule they’ve put in place.”
Harry smiled bitterly as he opened the door to his soon-to-be-former room. “I’ll bet they put it into affect because they knew that I have to vanquish the dark lord, and they want to charge me with something or another. They’ve always got to make the hero out to be a bad person, didn’t you know?”
“Harry, I know how you feel towards them, but I do work there, you know.”
Harry blinked at Arthur for a few moments, then nodded slightly. “Yeah, I know.” Harry lifted Hedwig’s cage and held it up for Arthur to shrink.
“Just leave the lot of it as it was. It’ll be a lot faster to shrink them all down at once.” Arthur said and Harry nodded, putting the cage back to where it had formerly sat. “I’ll be expecting a promotion to Muggle Studies soon,” Arthur commented as he waved his wand at Harry’s luggage. Harry watched smugly as his belongings were shrunk to smaller than a fly and quickly pocketed them, listening intently to all that Arthur had to say. “Going to be learning quite a lot about them, actually. They’re similar to Wizards in quite a few ways.”
“We’re all human,” Harry said in agreement. He took one final look around the room, then nodded to Arthur, who was staring at Harry questioningly.
“You look much better for wear than you did when you first got here,” Arthur commented.
Harry shot a small smile in Arthur’s direction. “I sort of forgot to tell my relatives that I’m not allowed to do magic quite yet. They’ve been treating me a lot nicer this summer for some reason.” Harry smirked as he led Arthur down the stairs and to the front door of the house that he hoped never to see again.
He left out the fact that he was limping slightly, though it wasn’t quite pronounced, so Arthur probably hadn’t noticed it yet. And he also emitted the fact that he had used a glamour on himself seconds before Arthur came, in order to cover up all the bruises. Of course, he wasn’t allowed to do magic yet, but the Ministry had probably stopped radar-ing the house for a few hours in order for Arthur to pick him up, and Harry deemed it a rather important matter that he make himself presentable; if Hermione hadn’t believed his letter, which had been written in blood, then she probably wouldn’t believe a few scrapes and bruises. She would probably think that they were self inflicted, and insist that the Weasley’s check him into St. Mungo’s.
“That wasn’t very nice of you, Harry,” Arthur said sternly, but the way his eyes twinkled in mirth totally bellied the sternness of his voice. “I’m sure your relatives would have liked to know.”
Harry shrugged. “There were a lot of things that I wanted to know last year, too. Like the fact that we were planning on having Dumbledore “killed.” That would have been nice to know ahead of time. And the fact that Malfoy,” Harry shuddered at the name the way someone else would have shuddered at the name Voldemort, before continuing. “Had decided to join our rankings instead of Vol-uh…You Know Who. You don‘t always get what you want, Arthur.” Harry said it lightly, jokingly, but inside, Harry meant every word that he had said.
Arthur sighed and nodded. “I know, Harry, and I’m sorry! But with your link to the Dark Lord, we had no way of knowing…” He trailed off at the sight of Harry’s uncle looming just in the foyer. “Maybe this isn’t the best of places to talk about this. We’ll talk about it when we get to Number 12, okay?”
Harry nodded with a sigh, and locked his eyes with Vernon’s. “Vernon,” Harry said with a nod. “I hope I never see you again.” With that, he turned on his heel and reached out for the door, but was stopped by a sharp blow on his right shoulder blade.
“What was that, boy?” Vernon asked sharply, beady eyes glistening.
“Mister Dursley!” Arthur exclaimed with a loud intake of breath. “Unhand him this instant!”
“Stay out of this, you! This is a family matter and does not concern the likes of you!” Vernon spat.
Arthur looked between Vernon and Harry desperately. When he made eye contact with Harry’s panicked eyes, Arthur nodded to himself and raised his wand to point directly at Vernon. “Impedimenta!” Then he quickly raised his wand as high into the air as he could and shouted, “Expecto Patronum!” A silvery beaver shot from the tip of his wand, and though it wasn’t quite as big as Harry’s stag, nor as powerful, it still served its purpose. The shimmering beaver quickly shot through the ceiling of the Dursleys’ home and called upon an official of the Ministry of Magic to inform him of misgivings. The man apparated instantly to the doorstep of the Dursleys’ home and burst through the door quickly as the beaver retreated back into Arthur‘s wand.
“What seems to be the problem?!” The man shouted. His eyes were franticly searching the room for the cause of the problem, and they immediately rested on Vernon, who was still in mid-stride and making very little progress to the place where Harry had once stood.
Harry stood out on the stoop and eyed the ministry official guardedly, arms folded over his chest protectively. The man was wearing deep red robes that were three sizes too small, his large bulge of a stomach sticking out prominently. A few of the buttons on his robes threatened to pop off, but thankfully they stayed in their respectful places. The man’s hair was a light grey, but he was balding severely. His eyes were a dark blue and they were broiling with panic as he took in the image of a very angry Vernon.
Harry’s shoulder was throbbing painfully, and he was afraid that the blow to it earlier had caused one of his wounds to re-open. Though no one could see the blood because of the glamour he had put upon himself, Harry could feel it trickling slowly down his spine and shuddered. “All right there, Harry?”
Harry nodded and covered up his grimace of pain with a faked sneeze, which caused him to burst into a coughing fit because of the pain it caused him. “Yeah,” Harry wheezed out after the coughs had subsided. “Just fine.”
“A punch that hard ought to have left a bruise.” Arthur said, eyeing Harry critically for any signs of weakness. “Any clue why he would have done it?”
Harry shook his head swiftly and averted his eyes.
“He seems easily put off, if you ask me,” Arthur said, eyes drifting over to the large man in question. He was currently being Obliterated by the Ministry Official. Harry’s eyes trailed down to his feet.
“Yeah,” Harry answered, an anxious feeling swelling in the pit of his stomach and spreading, causing his whole body to shake. “I, uh…can we go now?” Harry asked.
“Don’t you think we ought to have someone look at that shoulder of yours?” Arthur asked, eyeing Harry again.
“No,” Harry said, careful to make sure that he didn’t respond too quickly. “I’ve had worse. I’m okay, he barely nicked me.”
Arthur nodded slightly, then looked over to the man who was currently asking Vernon what he remembered of that night. Vernon was in the middle of a response. “What the bleeding hell are you peop-”
“All right there, Pete?” Arthur cut in by asking the short, balding man.
The man named Pete nodded. “Yup. I’ve got it all handled. You’re free to go if you want to, Harry,” Pete said, tossing Harry an appraising look.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed quickly, and made his way across the Dursleys’ front lawn to the small red car that was parked in front of their home. He walked to the passenger side and got in, and watched as Arthur made his way to the car as well.
“Harry,” Arthur began as he strapped himself into the car and turned to face the aforementioned raven-haired teen. “Is something wrong? You seem a bit peaky.”
Harry shook his head. “I’m just…tired, that’s all.”
“Ah,” Arthur said with a knowing smile. “Up all night in excitement, then?” He asked.
Harry averted his gaze to outside the window. “You could say that.” Then Harry glanced over at the steering wheel pointedly. “You gonna start it, or are we just gonna sit here all day?”
“Oh, erm…” Arthur flushed slightly. “I haven’t driven for a while. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m a bit rusty.”
Harry nodded. “It’s okay, Mr. Weasley. Really,”
“Ronald has been looking forward to this visit since before your birthday.” Arthur said as he turned the key and shifted the car carefully onto the road. “I hope you’ve brought your money, though. We’re going school shopping day after tomorrow.”
“I can get some there, can’t I?” Harry asked, a confused glance shot towards Arthur.
“Oh, heavens, no!” Arthur exclaimed, shooting Harry a concerned look. “Haven’t you been reading the Prophet?”
Harry looked questioningly at Arthur. “No,” Harry said, confusion turning his eyes a murky moss-green. “Why?”
“There have been at least ten attempted break-ins ever since summer started,” Arthur explained as he turned the car right. They continued to drive straight until the Dursleys’ home was out of sight, and Harry could have sworn he saw a large, blonde-headed boy staring after their car forlornly as they went. “Gringotts has been shut down.”
Harry looked at Arthur, eyes wide. “But…it can’t be! I don’t have any money, Mr. Weasley.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right, my boy. We’ll figure out some way to get you money.”
Harry looked worriedly at Arthur. “It’s not a problem, is it? If I’d have known they were going to shut down, I would have gone and gotten some money out before they did!”
“Oh, what a wonderful idea! We’ll go and do that tomorrow, and then after we get everything we need, we’ll go to your house.”
“My house?” Harry looked at Arthur as if he had gone nutters. “I don’t ever want to go back there! My house, indeed.”
Arthur smiled. “No, Harry, your other house!”
Harry blinked in confusion for a few moments until it dawned on him. “Oh! Okay. Wait…what did you mean, “we’ll go get some money tomorrow”? Didn’t you say that Gringotts has been shut down?”
Arthur smiled softly, but didn’t say anything more. When they were out of sight of any muggles, Arthur pushed the invisible button, then pulled back on the steering wheel, and they took off into the air. Shortly after Arthur had gone silent, Harry fell asleep.