Chapter Text
Harry hated to admit it, but he was really struggling. The first three weeks of the summer holidays spent with the Dursleys were just brutal.
That first week was spent doing chores, back-breaking manual labour and cooking all the meals. Harry was lucky if he got a little toast and egg each day to sustain himself.
He felt so, so grateful that Neville had been excited to take Hedwig with him, when they’d gotten to Kings Cross, for the summer; he felt absolutely sure that if she’d been with him, she would have starved to death by now.
He knew he was perilously close and the third week hadn’t even started yet; and there was far too much still to do.
By the gods, he’d thought this summer -- the very last he had to spend with them -- would be better. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t even close to better. In some ways, it was much, much worse.
Petunia was determined to be moved out of 4 Privet Drive by the third week, and she’d set upon Harry the task of helping her pack up the whole house and secure the furniture.
The movers arrived the last morning and took away every single stitch of furniture, as well as all the heavier boxes.
***
That evening, Petunia, Vernon and Dudley loaded up their car and the small trailer that was attached with everything the movers hadn’t taken.
Dudley had panicked when he’d realised that Harry wasn’t going with them. The exchange -- Dudley’s real worry and fear for Harry -- had repaired a lot that had been damaged between them over the years.
Petunia had given him a very small photo album, the letter Dumbledore had left with her when Harry was a baby, along with the baby-blanket he’d been wrapped in. They hadn’t talked or said goodbye, but she’d looked at him as though she’d never see him again.
Vernon had shoved Harry, snarled at him not to do any damage to what had once been their home and told him he better defeat that man.
Harry watched them go, through the living room window. His things were packed up as well; his trunk and knapsack waited in the hallway.
His intention to apparate to London and take a room at the Leaky was interrupted with a swift, loud knock on the front door.
Harry drew his wand just as the door opened.
“Well, now, and I thought they’d never leave,” said Augusta Longbottom as she stepped over the threshold and into the house.
Harry recognized her right away -- he’d seen her at a distance before, at the train station, but he also recognized her clothing from the Defense class with Lupin and Neville’s boggart.
“How did you know to come here?” Harry asked suspiciously. He pointed his wand directly at her.
“Put it down, boy,” Lady Longbottom said, rather gruffly.
“Answer the question.”
She gave a slight smile. “Caution is always better. Neville sent me. That girl he’s seeing, and thinks I don’t know about her, told him you needed help and that one of us should be here today to help you. Seeing as you’re the Chosen One and she’s a Daughter of Spækona, I decided to heed her warning.”
Harry stepped away from his body, in the sensate-style of a kind of astral projection. He appeared at Luna’s side.
Luna was in Neville’s room, cuddled up together on the sofa by the window. She looked up in surprise when Harry appeared.
“Has Augusta arrived?” Luna asked.
Harry nodded. “Next time you make arrangements for me, Luna, you should tell me.”
She waved that away.
Neville glanced over at the corner of his room where Luna was staring. “Is Harry here?”
She nodded. “A bit cross that I didn’t tell him.”
Neville frowned. “What do you mean you didn’t tell him? Is everything okay with my grandmother?”
Luna sighed. “It’s fine.” She looked back at Harry. “Just go with her. She’ll bring you here. It’s okay, Harry, promise.”
Harry pulled himself back to Privet Drive, to where Augusta was wandering his now-empty home.
“I just have the trunk and that bag,” Harry said.
Augusta nodded. “We’d better get going then. Can you apparate?”
“Yeah, got my license a few weeks ago. If you can shrink my trunk for me, I can apparate to whenever you say,” Harry replied.
“Good, good.” She pointed her wand swiftly at his trunk and shrunk it. She handed him a small key. “Focus on that. Get the feel for it, feel its magick, and think of my grandson. Then apparate. It’ll get you where you need to go.”
Harry put the dollar-sized trunk into his pocket and slipped on his backpack. He grasped the small key in his hands and did as he had been instructed.
When Harry popped away, Augusta gave the house one last look and then apparated home.
**********
TBC