Mad Snorkacks and Englishmen

A/N: Just a few points. In case it wasn\'t obvious, the lines Harry reminisces over in Ginny\'s responses at the funeral were directly out of Half-Blood Prince. I didn\'t want to make a footnote out of it and break the mood. The chapter coming up is very dialogue heavy and possibly not as long as the rest so far, but the conversation kept going and I just sort of let them talk. I had meant to move the scene to include Harry\'s first few days at the Dursleys in here, but decided to push it off for the next chapter. I feel like there\'s so much going on in Harry\'s head that it\'s hard to keep up with it all, but I expect he would move through those thoughts in much of the scattered way I do. He goes through a lot of emotions in an ostensibly short period, but that just feels very much a part of his character, particularly in the way his attention is being pulled in so many directions. Hopefully, it will still seem canon.











Chapter 5: Bird On A Wire



"Like a bird on the wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried in my way to be free “

~~~Leonard Cohen







In their long, ambled stretch back to the compartment Harry shared with his friends, the two youths kept silent, although Harry had taken hold of Luna’s pinky in his and occasionally let his body brush up against hers. A heavy cloud enveloped them both, and it was just enough to take air into their lungs let alone try to speak. Students rushing by gave them double takes and a few shouted some rather crude and suggestive remarks. Yet no one dared drop a “Loony” in the direction of the girl, not while the Boy-Who-Lived was by her side.





Harry had tried to make them as presentable as possible after their transgressions in the loo. It was a valiant effort, but he still bore the brunt of Crabbe’s fist, and sported a rapidly blackening bruise on his face, though the lip was sealed up. He had cast several cleaning spells over their forms in order to erase the lingering smell of their fucking. He insisted on entering the passageway first, as they made to exit the bathroom separately, but hung back as he moved a small ways down the hall in order to oversee Luna’s way out. He wasn’t about to let anyone harass her further and worried enough not to leave her alone even for a second.





As they entered the train car that contained their booth, Harry started to notice a buzzing around them. Lots of faces turned to him, some in admiration while others reprovingly. He was starting to wonder what was up, when it occurred to him that it was only a train, not a castle, and news had to have traveled mighty fast of the altercation that took place at the other end. Looking up ahead a few doors down, Harry watched Ginny slide theirs open as she jumped out to meet them. The teen instantly unfurled his pinky from Luna’s and took a step sideways from the girl.





“Where the bloody hell have you been?!” shouted the fiery red-head as she headed towards them. Her face was indignant, but then softened in surprise when she saw Harry’s contusions. Neville bundled out into the aisle after her, a lot less vociferous in his inquiry.





“Blimey, Harry, what happened? We were starting to get worried. Hermione and Ron went to find you.” The boy’s eyes got bigger as he took in Harry’s appearance.





“What?”, croaked out Harry. “I told you I was going to look for Luna. I wasn’t gone that long.”





Ginny’s squawking resumed. “It’s been almost an hour and a half, you prat. There are only so many places you could possibly look. What on earth happened to your face?” She looked at Luna as if the dreamy girl would provide the answer, but then her gaze turned shrewd, as if she had caught something in the blonde’s shining eyes that disturbed her.





The foursome heard running feet behind them and then Ron’s voice was calling to Harry. The raven-haired boy turned in his direction as his best mate hurried forward, Hermione fast on his heels.





“Harry, what the devil happened with you? Is it true about Nott?” Ron rounded around his friend and got a closer look at his face. He looked appropriately concerned, but there was an excited gleam in his eye at the thought of a scuffle with the Slytherins. “The prefects got called down to break up the crowd. Crabbe is saying you went all aggro on them for no reason and he’s calling you a nutter.”





Hermione stepped up to add her take on the proceedings. “Theodore was a ghastly mess. There was blood all over the front of his robes and his nose was shattered. The rest of them don’t look much better and are fit to be tied. I don’t know why you let them goad you into these confrontations, Harry.” She looked dutifully resigned to the unpredictable eruptions in his behavior and shook her head as if she expected as much from her wild companion. Now she looked in askance for his confirmation of the brawl. “Do you want to explain what you were up to?”





“Not really, no,” was Harry’s dry retort. His friends circled him as they waited, but he simply turned away from them and headed in to their booth to sit down on the bench closest to the window. He stared out at the landscape whizzing by with every intention of ignoring their expectation to supply them with a satisfactory answer. He felt no desire to explicate the situation; in fact, he really had no clue what just happened, himself.





A soft tinkling voice piped up from the corridor. Harry refused to acknowledge it.





“Harry was just trying to defend me,” came Luna’s unsolicited report. The rest of the group now turned their eyes toward her. “It was Crabbe and Goyle who started it. They… they were calling me names, making jokes about me to Nott and Vaisey.” Harry wondered from his position just how much of that was totally accurate. “I was cornered towards the back of the train. I didn’t realize how far down I had gotten to and there weren’t a lot of people around to come to my aid.” She looked to them all apologetically.





“It was my fault, really. I should have hexed them and run. I-I just got…” She left the sentence unfinished as she stopped trying to explain herself. Harry could relate. They stared at her for a moment before Ginny moved her arms out to take hold of Luna’s hand.





“Don’t worry about it, Luna. Those foul gits deserved a bit of payback. I’ve got to show you how to use my Bat-Bogey the next time we get a chance, though. That one never gets old. I added a few of my own twists to it.” She smiled warmly at the wan girl before pulling her into the compartment. The others folded in and Neville shut the door. Harry had glanced back at their entrance and now noticed that Ginny had made sure to put herself at the farthest end of the bench away from Harry, putting Luna in between them. Fucking great he cursed in his head. Ron sat across from him and tried to glean more details of the fight.





“I’m sure they were bang out of order, Luna, but I’m sorry I missed Harry coming to the rescue.” He spoke to his friend in gleeful judgment. “I bet that fat fuckwit Crabbe went down easy though, eh, mate? Bloody dosser, that one.”





“RON!!” Hermione yelled in exasperation. “Don’t encourage him. And watch your language. I don’t half know what I’m going to do with the two of you and your filthy mouths lately,” the girl continued to rail.





“Well, I think it was rather silly to let it get so out of hand. But that’s our Harry, isn’t it, always playing the hero.” Ginny’s critical tone made the hairs on Harry’s neck bristle. He stared out the window again and tried to drown her out with his own internal spewing.





“Lovely. Way to support the boyfriend, Ginny. But then mind, you don’t give your own brother a lot of backing, do you?” Ron gave his sister a disapproving glare, announcing an allegiance to Harry that shone fierce. Neville glanced between them and gulped in obvious discomfort. Ginny could be a tetchy girl.



“I don’t need to support the boyfriend anymore, because the boyfriend jumped ship.” The crew looked around between Ginny and Harry unsure of her meaning, and hesitant to comment without further elucidation. Harry offered nothing and continued to glare into space, no longer seeing the trees and sky floating along beyond the glass.





“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione finally asked. She gave Harry a puzzled look, a question in her eyes as she scanned over his stiff pose. Harry ignored her.





“What do you think? I’ve been dumped over for You-Know-Who. Maybe when Harry catches up with Ol’ Snake Face, the two of them can get married. I’m sure their children will be darling.” Her acerbic bite penetrated the group’s growing comprehension, but bitterness laced her catty remarks like a spider’s thick webbing. Harry whipped his head around to stare at her with barely concealed hostility. He couldn’t believe her open mocking of such a private moment between them. Ron now looked torn between the two, as he realized what she was saying about his best mate’s decision, but still he tried faithfully to back Harry again in light of the revelation. Harry knew he’d be having a stern chat with his friend about this news later, away from Ginny.





“That’s a bit unfair, Gin. Harry’s got his own reasons, he’s not barmy. This isn’t really the place for it, anyway,” he added cautiously, scouting his gaze over Neville and Luna. Harry could have kissed Ron.





“Whatever. You boys and your reasons, they’re all a load of bollocks when you get right in it. All that macho posturing and nobility,” she sneered, “it’s pure waffle.” Ginny focused her vexation on her brother now, and it was if a lid had been popped off the witch. “Go ahead, Ron, give it a go. Illuminate us fairer maidens in the ways of such manly duty. Tell me, when the two of you make your heroic plans to save us all, do you toss off with each other while you’re at it?” Ginny’s voice had risen higher with each sentence and now she was breathing hard in her vitriol, her face red and splotchy.





The whole cabin went silent in shock, until Harry’s green glare honed in on her and he grit out between his teeth in a contemptible rasp, “Fuck...you, Ginny.” The small space grew suddenly smaller as the rest of the occupants felt a heavy weight close in on their chests while their skin tingled with a slow crackle of charged matter across their flesh.





Even Ron’s typical quick-tempered response was subdued by the intensity of the moment as Harry’s magical force ebbed away. Neville looked miserable in his uneasiness. He stumbled around furiously to come up with a change in topic in the aftermath in order to placate his rattled friends.



“Why….why don’t we, uh, play a game of Exploding Snap, guys? Anyone? Luna?” He cast his wild gaze pleadingly in her direction in a hope for solidarity.





Luna appeared to take it all in stride. “Yes, Neville. What a lovely idea. Does anyone have a deck handy?” And she proceeded to actively hunt for a pack of cards with Neville’s assistance while Hermione kept her eyes on Harry, a flat line for her mouth. She dismissed the hub of conversation between the three students to the left of her; Luna was now trying to involve a flustered Ginny into their attempt at harmless discourse, and focused instead on Harry’s dark glare. Her mouth turned pensive before she spoke.





“Harry, is it tr…..”





“Leave it off, Hermione,” was all of Harry’s warning. She stared at him for another moment before deciding to play at the pretense of relaxed conversation with the others. Ron still looked troubled, but made no further comments. He leaned his head down on his chest and pulled himself into the corner of the bench as his eyes closed. Harry wished he could fall asleep, too, but he was too numb, too overwhelmed, too caught up in his self-hatred. He listened to the voices behind them and not for the first time wondered how they all put up with him. He was a mess, and apparently destined to fuck up his friends’ lives at every opportunity.





The-Boy-Who-Lived thought about his best mates; how they had sworn their commitment to him. Before leaving Hogwarts for the Express, they had pledged to help him track down the Horcruxes to end Voldemort’s reign of terror. It meant everything to Harry for them to express such intense loyalty, so complicit were they in his survival, even at such cost to themselves. Harry still hadn’t filled them in on the details of that horrid night in the cave. Who knew what dangers might befall them out there? He couldn’t fathom Hermione Granger walking away from her NEWTs, from her education, but nor could he fathom how he’d find his way without her, and yet here she was doing it for him. And how would he repay her generosity exactly, the boy thought bitterly. Would he rough her up and throw her around when she got too bossy for his liking? Would he fuck her against a bathroom wall with all the dignity of a whore? Harry felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought, but in light of his behavior with Luna he felt justifiably worried. What he had done, Harry didn’t even want to think about it anymore so heavy was his heart. Had he always been capable of such cruelty and madness? Was he somehow predisposed to sink to such wretched depths because of his deepening connection to a sociopath? What extent of darkness lay inside of him, he thought in fear. Last year, he couldn’t even summon up enough hatred to cast an effective Cruciatus, so Bellatrix had rejoiced in informing him, but would he be able to do it now? In the wake of the devastating events during the last week, Harry somehow had a feeling he would be more than capable.





His concentration drifted to bites out of the gang’s lightened chatter. “But what does it look like?” someone was asking. It sounded like Luna was describing another of her mythical creatures to them, but Hermione seemed to be letting it go, as there were no harrumphs to signal her irritation. Ginny asked how the creature could possibly mate with all those pins on its body, but their giggles muffled Luna’s answer. The cheer made him feel more alone, his contemplation more dour, and the boy tried to wrap his black mood around him like a winter cloak to keep it from spreading to his friends.





Then the breathy, lilting softness of Luna’s voice as she regaled them with more legend floated over to him on her special breeze of vulnerability, the sound like a feather brushing up against the nape under his thick locks, curving down and around to nestle in the pulsing hollow at the base of his neck. He felt the arousal course through his veins again and tried to stem the flow before it got too far below. That’s all he needed to really compliment the vile loathing saturating his brain right now, a bleeding hard-on. But there was something to that, Harry grudgingly admitted, that he had to acknowledge, even if the idea churned his insides. Forcing his will unto Luna like he’d been doing had gotten him hot. Very hot.





The Dursleys were right all along. He was a sick freak.





He’d taken her three times already in as many days. Yet, he couldn’t merely fuck her, oh no, he was Harry Potter after all. He had to twist her to what he wanted, he had to pin her down and toss her limbs around like they were in his way, penetrate her like she was a deep tunnel for him to hide in. This wasn’t what he had expected sex to be. Did he even love this girl? He couldn’t possibly, but he couldn’t seem to get away from her, either. Harry closed his eyes to block out the light and listened to where the discussion was now.





“I don’t think he’s even teaching anymore,” Neville was saying, “but it would be cool to have a professor like that for Transfiguration. You know, not as tough and strict as McGonogall, maybe.”





“I wonder who’s going to be the new Gryffindor Head of House? You don’t think we’ll get Sinistra, do you?” Ginny speculated.





“Professor Vector would be a better choice, if they even bother to re-open the school,” Hermione suggested in a sobering tone, but she kept relatively quiet on the matter, as Harry supposed she was trying not to think about missing her seventh year.





“I rather think it likely that it will,” Luna predicted. “Professor McGonogall will make a fine headmistress, and I feel assured that she’ll do everything in her power to make the next school year happen. If for no other reason than to keep up the idea of normality for the students in such a dark time.” The others appeared to be considering the wisdom of her statement.





“I do think you’re right about Professor Vector, Hermione. He’s such a brilliant teacher.” Hermione looked at her quizzically. “How do you know about his style of teaching?” she asked the wistful girl.





“Oh, I’ve been taking his Arithmancy classes since third year, but I studied with him even before that,” Luna informed her.





“How could you study with him before third year? He doesn’t teach the students below that. I don’t even think they’d be ready for the material.” Harry watched Luna out of the corner of his eye. Her expression remained placid while she explained her answer as she would to a child.





“Well, he would teach me at my house, silly. Septima Vector has been a dear friend of Daddy’s for many years. I remember he used to visit with us for Sunday dinner every week when I was much younger, and he always talked about the most fascinating subjects with my father,” she finished with a gleeful clap of her hands and some kind of adorable sound approaching a squee. Harry found himself wanting to reach out and grab that sound from her mouth like a snitch. Then he wanted to lick her whole body clean.





“Do you know that he’s been to Nepal many times? He’s shown me some of the magical artifacts he brought back with him. But I confess that watching him discuss numbers is the best. He becomes so enraptured by the concepts and makes you want to learn so much. Being able to impart that kind of enthusiasm for learning to your students must be very gratifying. He’s really a remarkable man.” Luna kept up her commentary and seemed to notice little how it affected her compatriots.





Harry, however, noted with some satisfaction that Hermione looked fairly gobsmacked at these disclosures. It was like he felt a sense of pride that Luna had so many intriguing layers to her, although that seemed an odd way to see it. People discounted her so easily, but there was an infinite depth to the quiet Ravenclaw that Harry had only just recently been exposed to. It made him think that perhaps there was more to his fixation with the girl than just sex. He had a special affection for her, yes, but he wanted to make her stronger, too, wanted to break her free from her tormentors. The boy thought about his demands to her in front of that mirror. Aside from wanting to fuck her into the sink, there had been a genuine desire to show her something basic about her character. Harry knew from experience that the girl was fiercely loyal. If he could use that to fuel her self-preservation and worth, than was it so bad? For a terrifying second, he could hear her barking in his head and the cold slap he’d given her in his astonishment. He’d been deeply ashamed after he’d hit her; was still ashamed now. The fact that his new ex-girlfriend was currently sitting to the other side of his new fuck-buddy was doing nothing to diminish the self-loathing, in that regard. He was a big hypocrite and a liar, too. Oh, Merlin, his head was going to explode. Harry grabbed his forehead in pain.





“Harry, is it your scar bothering you?” Hermione suddenly directed her attention to him with a slight panic in her voice. Harry grimaced.





“No, headache.” He felt that brevity was best at a time like this.





He could feel Luna’s eyes on him, though, as he looked away from them. What was she thinking, he had to wonder. He had a perverse need for her to hate him, yet he was stymied by her willingness to accept whatever he did and said to her. Harry thought he might just love that quality in the girl, while still feeling there was something inherently sordid about the way he exploited her devotion to him. Yes, he needed to show her that he was dirty, he was a bad boy. Oh, shit, wrong choice of words. He could feel his damnable prick harden at the suggestion. After the rogering he’d just given the spacy girl only a few hours prior, he was surprised he could even get enough blood in it. Apparently, he was insatiable, too, to add to his long list of faults.





His thoughts (and hardening prick) were interrupted by a honk of Ginny’s laughter. He turned momentarily and regarded the two young women in his sightline. Hmm, perhaps Luna should learn how to hate him by taking lessons from her hot-headed friend. Even though Harry had been enraged by her nasty remarks just now, he’d been somewhat surprised by them, too. She had seemed so strangely unaffected when he told her they had to break-up, that Harry hadn’t counted on any residual hurt feelings. He’d forgotten what a slow-burner she could be, sometimes. Did that mean her resentment of his decision masked something more intense? Ginny was a passionate girl, as their steamy snogging sessions could attest. Was it remotely possible that she…well, could be in love with him? That boy in the cupboard under the stairs scoffed at the very idea, but he felt it was something he had to consider. The thought only served to confuse him more, though, and he mentally groaned at this new flood of emotional upheaval. What if she was? What would he make of that? How much would it crush her then, to find out about his exploits with Luna? He shook his head in disgust. What a tangled web, he noted with some humility.





“Harry, do you think you’ll be ready for your Apparitions test after you turn seventeen?” Hermione’s summons pulled Harry out of the overload in his head and he focused on her now, suspecting that the bored expression she gave him indicated she’d had enough of his brooding already and was determined to pull him back into the fold. Harry decided to play along; he’d had enough of his brooding, too. His gaze shifted slightly downward and lingered a few seconds on her breasts tight under her t-shirt, her robe having been ditched in the warmth of the moving traincar. It’s not like he’d never noticed his best friend had a great rack before, he chided, but perhaps now was not the time to appreciate them. Harry cleared his throat and forced his eyes back to her face.





“I expect I’ll do alright,” he said with some confidence.





“Well, you lot will be lucky sods once you’re licensed. I’m sure it will be quite smashing to hop to and about in space wherever and whenever you want. What blissful freedom. Fred and George didn’t half rub it in when they got tagged. It’s such a drag that Luna and I still have a ways to go before we can even get a chance to practice,” Ginny moaned.





“Oh, it’s pretty simple, Ginny. You’re such a natural with Charms, you’ll pick it up easy.” Luna gave the girl an encouraging smile as the others looked on agog.





“You know how to Apparate?” Neville asked her with some awe in his voice. The boy was still having a spot of bother with the maneuvers, Harry recalled. Luna apparently didn’t find the notion of her premature instruction odd in the slightest.





“Well, yes, for some time now. Daddy showed me when I was twelve.” Hermione spluttered.





“Twelve?! But…but that’s illegal! You aren’t allowed to Apparate until you’re old enough to be tested!” She seemed highly offended by Luna’s admission.





Luna, as ever, was unperturbed at the protest. Harry was chuffed to see that she had returned to her usual unflappable exterior.





“Daddy only ever had me do it in short jumps on the grounds around our house. Just because I have the ability doesn’t mean I’ll abuse the privilege.” There was a sharpness inflected in her tone, but she smiled at Hermione nonetheless, softening the effect.





“Cor’, but that’s brilliant, Luna!” her copper headed mate to the right of her enthused. Ginny’s eyes grew big in their excitement. “You’ll have to hang out with me over summer and we’ll teach each other some new things.”





At that, Harry’s suffering prick finally gave up and saluted as he imagined his own take on “things”. In fact, his imagination was going well into overdrive and he felt suddenly stifled in the small space. He jostled in his seat and folded one leg over the other in an attempt to camouflage his state of arousal. The boy was acutely aware of his close proximity to the array of soft tits, shapely bottoms, and slick cunts owned by his female friends, and he was so turned on he felt ready to embarrass himself. For fuck sake, get it together, man, Harry berated himself yet again. But there was something deliciously naughty in letting his mind travel there unfettered. He wondered what effect he might have had on Ginny if he had fucked her as savagely as he had Luna. But could he even compare the two girls in that way? They were so vastly different to each other, right down to their physical make-up. It would have to be a distinctly different experience, he posited.





Harry took in the two girls next to him again and decided to dabble.





“Luna’s right, Ginny. You’re a smart girl and a natural athlete. You’ll probably take to Apparition as readily as breathing.” He coolly offered the compliment to her as an olive branch and was heartened by the sweet expression she gave in return. She seemed to have forgotten her ire in the moment. Perhaps this was a sign that she was ready to relent a bit in her furious anger with him. Harry pushed it one further to test this theory out.





“In fact, I have it on good authority that you’re a natural at quite a lot of things,” he chimed. Harry let his gaze smolder in to Ginny’s as he made his innuendo explicitly clear. He watched her through heavy lidded eyes, while in his periphery he sought out Luna’s reaction. Both girls flushed a light pink, Ginny’s eyes widening imperceptibly at the suggestiveness. He let his body fold toward them in an acute angle as he sharpened his focus on both girls, and he became aware of each fluctuation in their responses. He heard Luna catch her breath and it burned him as desire flooded through his chest and into his lower half. But he wouldn’t let the thudding in his ears deter him. The Chosen One was now a Master of his Control. Somewhere to his left, someone coughed in the pause.





Harry looked down at Ginny’s mouth and addressed her lips. “I’m really sorry, Ginny. I never wanted to hurt you. Please accept my apology.” He could see in the corner of his eye Luna had turned her full gaze on him, and he knew with an innate certainty that she understood he was talking to the both of them. The wildly brazened teen reached out and took Ginny’s cheek in his hand, then pulled her forward as he leaned over, practically sitting in Luna’s lap. He could feel Neville and Hermione staring intently at him while Ron slept and he let their voyeur-like witness heighten his enflamed state as he let his mouth take over the red-head in a fierce kiss. And ever so slowly, hidden from their view, he crept his hand toward Luna’s crotch and slid it downward to cup her….no, his sex and squeezed. Merlin, he was a bastard, yet he absolutely loved this, there was no use in denying it. Ginny allowed the kiss to continue for several seconds, letting his tongue explore her mouth, until Luna gave a small whimper. The youngest Weasley pulled back with a dash, as if suddenly aware of where they were, and Harry quickly retracted his hand.





Yet, Harry knew exactly where they were, who they were with, and how they were all reacting to the whole thing. He felt bigger than the room, bigger than the train car even, and he fed off that thrill like he was sucking on a magical current. Even while he acknowledged his deviousness, he couldn’t help the feeling of exhilaration that consumed him. Ginny looked dazed and more than a little turned on as she stared at him, too shocked to speak. He broke their connection in order to turn his full attention to Luna’s face. He didn’t know what to make of her visage, as it seemed to comprise of a bit of sadness, hunger, worship, and futility. He decided to concentrate on the hunger, and wanted to kiss her while the taste of Ginny’s scented lips were still on him. Then Ron broke the spell. Typical he thought dryly.





“Oi! Bleedin’ hell, mate, I don’t need to wake up and see that rubbish!” the bleary-eyed boy exclaimed, irascibly indignant as he stretched his legs.





Hermione was droll. “Harry was just showing Ginny a bit of that manly duty,” she explained. Neville gave a half-hearted attempt at a laugh, but it did little do disguise his obvious discomfort. He’d been just as visibly affected by the display as everyone else, but it didn’t bother Harry too much, although he was distinctly curious to know how Hermione viewed the show. Seeing her get flustered….well, he could definitely understand the appeal in that. In his current sexual flavor, he wondered what it would be like to watch her pleasure herself. God he moaned, you’d best just leave that one be. He was getting much too carried away if he was starting to fantasize about his best mate….the sisterly best mate, he emphasized as a reminder. Harry suddenly mused that his hormones must have been waiting dormant for far too long and now they had just exploded all over him like so much stinksap from a Mimbulus Mimble-tonia.





“Sorry, Ron,” he muttered dryly. He sighed. Now he really wanted to get off a wank, but they were almost to King’s Cross and he didn’t need any more mishaps in the bathroom. God, he moaned to himself yet again, but he was a right filthy bugger, wasn’t he. He looked back out the window and let his mind think back to this morning. All of these women problems and ruminating on his disturbing sexual proclivities might be driving him dotty, but they did offer up a reprieve from the gutted feeling of bereft solitude that had accompanied him to the funeral. So much had changed in him over the course of the last few days. At some point, he imagined he just had to throw up his hands and let everything run its course, buffered somehow in the inevitability of it all. The boy often felt like a half sculpted mound of clay still taking form.





He recognized that he would have some time at the Dursleys before his imminent departure. Harry had a lot to work out and he suspected he could use the break. For the first time in…ever, Harry felt almost relieved to be heading back to Number 4 Privet Drive.









Thanks so much for your words of support. Keep \'em coming! And thanks to my muse, SoftObsidian