Chapter Text
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the rights to Harry Potter and the Wizarding World.
This story pick up from the end of Chapter 2 of Prisoner of Azkaban.
Harry carried his trunk and Hedwig's cage as far as he could before finally dropping them and doubling over, the stitch in his side starting to become more than he could handle. After a few minutes of panting and catching his breath, he looked around to find himself near the local park on Magnolia Crescent, several blocks from Privet Drive. He made his way over to a park bench and plopped down roughly.
Of course this had to happen, Harry began thinking angrily. If I could have made it one more night, then I wouldn't be sitting out here like a delinquent. He could feel his heart still pumping rapidly in his chest as his mind caught up to his body and the gravity of his situation settled in.
He had just committed underage magic. According to the Ministry, this would be the second occurrence, which most likely meant expulsion from Hogwarts and the snapping of his wand. He would never be allowed to perform magic again. There would be nothing to take him away from the Dursleys, and he was absolutely helpless to stop it.
He could already see the disappointed look on Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore's faces. Hagrid would be crying and blowing his nose on a tablecloth-sized handkerchief. He saw Mrs. Weasley grabbing the end of the same handkerchief and blowing her own nose. Ron and his brothers would be raising a row to try and get him reinstated. And Hermione…
His head shot up. Hermione! She would know how to fix this. He could already see her in his mind's eye running about with a book in each hand about wizarding law, reading them both simultaneously while fussing at him to hurry up and read the book she would have given him to study. She would then roll her eyes after explaining the law to him for the umpteenth time before smiling and wrapping her arms around him and-
Harry blinked his eyes a couple of times. Where had that thought come from?
Coming back to reality, he turned his head to check his surroundings. There was only one streetlight in the park currently working, and the yellowish glow it emitted was fairly weak, creating a cascade of odd, spooky shadows. He gulped. Suddenly, he wished that he wasn't there alone. A strange creaking noise made him jump to his feet and glance behind him. The merry-go-round was moving slightly from the breeze, which had caused the ominous sound.
Yes, finding Hermione would be the best thing to do right now!
Harry walked back to his trunk and started rifling through his possessions. He placed his hands on the cloak and thought about putting it on before deciding against it. Sure, he would be invisible, but it wouldn't cover the trunk or the cage. What would some Muggle think seeing a trunk going down the street by itself? He smirked at the mental image before continuing his search.
He finally found what he was looking for between two of his class books - a piece of parchment with Hermione's phone number and home address. She had written the information down while returning on the Hogwarts Express last year and gave it to him, inviting him to visit if he could ever get his relatives to agree. He remembered how he laughed inwardly at the idea of the Dursleys taking him anywhere he wanted to go before accepting the note with a grin and giving his own number back to her.
He reflected for a moment, finding it odd that she had not called to speak to him that summer when Ron had made the point to do so, especially since she actually knew how to use a phone. Then again, Harry thought, perhaps after hearing about Ron's failed attempt, it was better that she not be forced to deal with Uncle Vernon's harsh tone. A scowl crossed his face at the thought of his uncle berating Hermione over the phone and he could feel some of his anger return.
Harry closed his trunk and stood upright, placing his hands on his back and stretching after being stooped over for so long. He had a plan - now he needed to find a way to get in touch with Hermione. It would be best to get to the closest pay phone, which was another couple of blocks away. Sighing, he grabbed the end of his trunk and started walking.
He wasn't sure when he first noticed, but it felt and sounded like someone - or something - was following him. Every time he stopped and checked, the soft noise would stop and there would be nothing there. Each time he began walking again, that noise would return. It certainly didn't help that in the dark, the shadows of the houses he passed all appeared to be hiding some horror that was just out of sight. He quickened his pace as the petrol station came into view.
He quietly snuck around to the back of the building and hid his trunk and cage behind the trash bin in an alley before crossing to the telephone box. He picked up the receiver to dial Hermione when he realized two things. The first was that he had no Muggle money on him and would be unable to call. The second was that Hermione, like Ron and his family, was currently on holiday and not at home. Dejectedly, Harry dropped the receiver back on its handle and went back to his trunk.
Once he sat down, Harry, or rather his stomach, made another realization: he was starving. The overpowering smell wafting from a nearby takeaway only caused his hunger pains to deepen. His lack of money meant he really only had one viable option. Harry looked around before reaching into the dumpster and pulling out a bag of trash and gingerly opening it. Fortunately for him, the bag must have recently been dropped in as there were no particularly foul smells coming out. He found a partially-full bag of crisps and - his eyes widened - an whole burger still in its wrapping. He opened the wrapping and inspected it carefully to make sure its previous owner hadn't spat on it or otherwise poisoned it. Lightly reassured after looking, Harry took a small bite and chewed multiple times before swallowing. Feeling more confident, he finally started eating - it was really quite delicious, despite where he had to go to retrieve it. His spirits lifted somewhat as he ate and satisfied some of his hunger.
Approaching steps caused his mood to drop rapidly. He tucked himself as close as he could to the bin, wishing that he would have had the foresight to cover himself with his invisibility cloak while eating.
Around the corner of the bin, a dog appeared. Well, it looked like a dog, at least. The creature was very big - much bigger than any other dog Harry had ever seen - and was covered in shaggy black fur. It also had large, dark, threatening eyes. Harry held his breath as it moved closer, staring directly at him. It felt like the eyes could see straight into his soul. An impulse told Harry to throw the burger or to kick at the dog, but his fear kept him from responding.
The dog crept slowly in a stalking manner, each movement of its paws carefully placed. Now its head was only inches away from Harry's face.
"N-n-nice d-doggy," Harry managed to whisper, afraid to make a louder sound, not daring to make any motion that could be considered an attack.
The dog's eyes finally broke his stare with Harry, rising to his forehead. Its cold, wet nose brushed the fringe of Harry's hair. A sense of dread poured down Harry's spine like ice water…
And then the dog licked his face and promptly sat down next to him and started panting, still looking at him.
The sudden change in demeanor only caused Harry to feel more confused. He tentatively and carefully raised his arm. He remembered seeing on a cartoon that Dudley watched that when approaching a strange dog you should hold your hand palm up at a level below the dog's head. Once it smelled your hand, then you might be able to pet it. Harry wasn't sure if the information was true, or even why he would want to pet this creature, but a feeling in his gut told him to try it.
The dog watched his hand draw closer, then sniffed it. For a moment, Harry thought about jerking his hand back in case the dog were to bite him. He was glad he didn't - the dog lowered its head under his hand and lifted it up, indirectly causing Harry to pet him. He heard a strange whimper from the dog as it looked at him expectantly.
Unsure of its meaning, Harry found his voice. "What is it, boy? Do you like being petted?" The dog nodded its head and again pushed it into Harry's hand. Harry laughed nervously and felt his body relaxed a little as he began petting the dog. Harry froze and pulled his hand back as he heard a rumble emanating from the dog. It was when the dog looked at his burger and back at him that he made the connection.
"Oh - are you hungry too?" He ripped the burger in half and held it out in front of him. The dog carefully grabbed the burger from his fingers and dropped it on the ground, where it then started devouring it in earnest. For the first time in several hours, Harry felt better.
A cracking sound in the distance changed everything. The dog lifted his head and turned its attention to the noise, its body taut as if preparing to strike. Harry stopped eating his crisps as he listened. He could hear faint voices getting closer, their conversation becoming clearer.
"Did you see that blimp back there? Crikey, I thought they'd never get her shrunk!"
"Yeah, yeah, that was something… any sign of the Potter boy?"
Harry winced at the sound of his name. A thought sprang to his mind, and he acted on it. Pulling his trunk to the wall behind the bin, he opened it and yanked his cloak out. In the process, his cloak caused an empty potion vial to fly in the air before shattering a few feet away.
"Hold up - did you hear that?"
Harry didn't wait - he closed his trunk as fast and as softly as he could and sat on it before throwing the cloak over himself and the trunk. He gave a sigh of relief before his eyes saw Hedwig's cage in front of him. It was too late, he knew it - there were now sounds of boots running close to his location.
The dog, who still had not moved, then did something peculiar: he ran and grabbed the top of the cage with his mouth and dragged it over to Harry's position, where he swiftly tossed the cloak over it. Only a moment later, two people in red robes turned the corner and looked directly at where Harry was sitting. He held his breath - to him, it was as loud as a bin lorry.
Harry focused on the two wizards - surely they were wizards with the robes - as they scanned the alleyway. A growl to Harry's right made both of the men jump and pull their wands. Somehow, the wizards had not seen the dog, which was now back in its striking position, appearing even larger and more fierce than before.
To Harry's amazement, the wizards both turned pale and started shaking after seeing the dog. It started prowling toward them, its teeth bared in a snarl. Without hesitation, both wizards turned on the spot and disappeared with that same loud crack he heard earlier.
Harry took a few minutes to process what he had just witnessed. He had never seen someone vanish like that. Oddly enough, it was their reaction to the dog that puzzled him more. It's almost like they had seen a ghost, he thought to himself. Well, if a Muggle had seen a ghost.
He heard a whimper by his side and felt the dog rub his head against his leg. Harry pulled off his cloak and began petting the dog again with a little more affection than before. "Thanks boy! You saved me back there." The dog looked up at him and closed one eye. Harry smiled back. How cute! The dog just winked at me, he thought. Hang on… can dogs wink?
As Harry reflected on the strange reactions of the dog - winking, nodding as if it understood him, knowing to hide the cage from those wizards, the reaction of the wizards to its appearance, looking at his forehead - it was evident that this dog must be… magical, in some way.
The dog (who really needs a name, Harry thought to himself) then grabbed the sleeve of his jumper and started pulling. Harry rose to his feet and raised an eyebrow. "What now, boy?" The dog's eyes flickered to his trunk and back to him before he grabbed the top of the cage and started walking out of the alley. Catching the unverbal message, Harry took the end of his trunk and started following the dog. They crossed the street quickly, the dog pausing briefly for one lone vehicle to pass before doing so, and entered a small copse of trees. Harry found a space just on the other side of some bushes before the same cracking sound rent the air as before. However, this time there were multiple cracks.
Their secluded position with the trees and bushes around them allowed Harry to see the arrival of four wizards without being observed. Harry recognized the two that had disappeared before were back with reinforcements. He chuckled softly to himself as the two new wizards - clearly superiors of the originals - strode into the alley confidently while the other two stood back and waited. Eventually the new wizards came back and admonished the other two - it was hard to hear their voices from this distance, but Harry definitely heard the words "cowards" and "keep an eye out." Then, wands drawn but down at their sides, the four made their way down the street, apparently searching for him.
"Well boy, looks like we're safe for now." Harry looked down to pet his new friend before discovering that the dog was no longer there. A cursory glance around made it seem like the dog had disappeared just as the wizards had done before, minus the crack.
At a loss, Harry sat down on his trunk and began evaluating his situation. The wizards had confirmed that Aunt Marge was no longer blown up like a balloon and that they were on a search for him. Neither bit of news was that good to him. He no longer had an empty belly, but he did not have a plan or a place to go. A thought passed through his mind that he should try to go to the Leaky Cauldron or to Hogwarts for shelter. He quickly dismissed it - he might be able to get a cab to London, but he wouldn't have any way to pay the fare. Nor could he spend a night at a hotel. He could try to write a letter, but without Hedwig, he'd have no way to send it. He could spend the night here in the woods, but he had no blanket or covering in case it rained. To emphasize that point, a chilly fog began creeping up from a nearby pond. Harry leaned over and placed his head in his hands. If only Hermione were here…
He heard something pass through the foliage behind him. Harry lifted his head and shifted on the trunk, hopeful that the dog had returned to keep him company. When he saw what had made the noise, he froze again.
It was not a dog, but a man standing there. His clothes were old and threadbare in places, ripped in others. He had long, dark hair that was mangled and knotted and a beard that was unkempt and straggly. His face was sunken slightly, appearing almost skeletal, the skin tight against his bones. His eyes… they were grey in color and almost lifeless. If Harry hadn't heard the man's chest moving, he would have thought he was a zombie.
The man started speaking. His voice sounded raspy, as if it hadn't been used in years.
"Don't be afraid… I'm not here to hurt you."
Harry heard the words, but he did not believe them. He jumped to his feet and pulled his wand from his pocket. He held it around his waist, ready to defend himself. He tensed as the man started laughing, then coughing. It was clear he hadn't done that in years either. Once his fit subsided, the man smiled, showing a mouthful of yellowed teeth, and raised his hands in front of him in a submissive manner.
"I don't blame you, Harry. Not one bit. It's good to protect yourself. I do promise that I won't hurt you."
Harry plucked up enough courage to respond. "How do you know who I am? And how can I trust you when I don't even know who you are?"
The man tilted his head to the side a little bit and frowned. "Who I am? You mean, you don't recognize me?" Harry shook his head, refusing to even blink.
This genuinely seemed to puzzle the man, who paused before responding. "My friends…
well, my old friends, used to call me Grim." Harry could see a thought pass before the man's eyes. "I believe you met my dog earlier."
Harry squinted at him quizzically. "The dog belongs to you?"
Grim smiled again. "Yes."
"What's its name?"
"Huh? Oh, um… I call him… Padfoot. Yes, that's his name."
Once again, he appeared to be ready for a reaction from Harry after speaking. When Harry remained still, Grim pointed his fingers toward the trunk. "Is it alright if we have a seat and talk?"
Harry's flight response told him to throw a hex at the man and to start running. However, considering that Padfoot had saved him shortly beforehand, Grim may be able to help him. Despite having just met him, Harry decided to give him a chance. Besides, he thought humourlessly, what have I got to lose? Things surely can't get any worse than being on the run from the Ministry...
Harry lowered his wand and sat at the far end of the trunk, allowing Grim to sit at the other. There was an awkward silence as the two sized each other up.
"So," Harry began, "how do you know my name?"
"Harry, everyone in the Wizarding World knows who you are." Grim gestured to his forehead with a smirk. Harry sighed. Of course that was why he knew his name. "Padfoot was the one who told me about your scar, though."
"You can talk to dogs?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think. Considering I can talk to snakes, I guess that wouldn't be so hard to believe...
"No, not really… But, you could say Padfoot and I share the same brain!" Grim let out a harsh laugh that sounded almost like a bark. Harry was beginning to regret his decision to stay instead of run, but he remained seated, though slightly more on edge.
Grim looked at Harry closely. "You know, you look just like your father. You have your mother's eyes though. And her disposition, if I'm not misreading you. I know we've just met, but -"
Harry's back became straight as a rod. "You knew my parents?"
A hint of sadness crossed Grim's face. "Yes, I knew James and Lily very well. James was… like a brother to me. The day they died… I felt like a bit of myself died with them." For the first time, Grim turned his face away from Harry. He looked down at his tattered boots, his big toe sticking out in a large hole.
Harry wasn't sure whether he would say anything more about his parents even if asked, so he decided to find out more about him. "May I ask why you… um…"
"Look like a homeless beggar?" Grim offered to Harry's embarrassment. He gave a half-smile. "I didn't always look like this. In fact, I used to be an Auror." Harry's face remained blank. "Essentially a Wizard policeman. Padfoot mentioned you almost got caught by some tonight?"
Harry's face lit up, making the connection between the word and the red-clad wizards that almost caught him. "They fight dark wizards, help keep the peace, catch criminals." Harry paled slightly at the unsaid implication. Grim, missing his reaction, continued on. "Your father was an Auror too. We used to be partners as well as friends, until…" His voice lost volume as he finished speaking. Harry almost reached over to pat Grim on the back, but kept his hand in his lap.
"After that, I… went a little mad and… got into some trouble. They took my wand... and locked me away."
"Locked you away? Like, in jail?" Harry felt like there was a troll-sized clue about to bash him in the face that he just wasn't able to place.
"Yes. Azkaban, the wizard prison. Terrible place. The guards... Take the worst nightmare you've ever had and multiply it by ten. That's how it felt." Harry shivered at the thought.
Grim didn't fail to notice. "Sorry, Harry, I was so busy thinking about the past that I forgot about your predicament. Can you tell me why you're out so late tonight?" The sympathy in his voice seemed real, so Harry recounted the last few days starting with Marge's arrival. When he mentioned blowing up Aunt Marge and escaping his uncle's house, Grim gave his widest smile yet. "That sounds more like James there!" he interrupted. After that, he sat and listened quietly to the rest of the story - the corners of his mouth twitched when Harry mentioned putting a wand in Uncle Vernon's face, then promptly dropped as Harry mentioned the apparent manhunt to catch him and his worries about being expelled and having his wand snapped. After he finished, Harry could feel some of the weight lifted from his shoulders after talking to someone about his problems. Then he shivered again when a breeze passed through the woods. Grim raised his arm as if to wrap it around him, then lowered it.
"So… you're on the run from the Ministry. Heh, sounds like we have something in common."
It took Harry a moment to process the meaning of that statement, but Grim carried on before he could respond. "This friend of yours… where do you say she lives?" Harry pulled out the piece of parchment with Hermione's number and address. Grim studied it briefly before glancing at Harry's face. There was a hint of mischief in those dark eyes. "You mean to tell me that a girl," his eyebrows rose as he emphasized the word, "gave you her number… and you haven't called her?"
Harry blushed a little. "She's my best friend… I don't think she thinks about me that way." Harry didn't realize he had said the second part out loud until Grim clicked his tongue in mock disapproval.
"Have you asked her how she feels?" Harry's blush got darker as he turned his head away. Grim chose to not push the issue any further. "The good news is that I happen to know a park near her house where we can go. Are you ready to see her?"
"I told you, she's not at home," Harry responded.
"Well pup, since we both seem to be on the outs with the Ministry, her place is as good as any for us to go towards, even if she (again with the eyebrows!) is not back… yet." It took Harry a second to realize that the term "pup" referred to him. "We can lay low together, make sure they," he gestured back toward the street, "don't find you."
Harry parsed Grim's idea, then nodded slowly in agreement. Grim stood up and turned to face Harry. He could see a hesitant look on Grim's face. "What is it?" he asked.
"Well Harry… in order for us to travel, I'll need to borrow your wand." Harry must have shown unease at the suggestion as Grim added quickly, "I promise I'll give it right back once we're done. Besides, it'll help us with your things." He pointed to Hedwig's cage and his trunk.
Harry pondered the proposal for a few seconds - he didn't completely trust the man, even if he said he knew his parents. But, he admitted to himself, he didn't really have any other options, especially if the Aurors were searching for him. Almost as on cue, they heard another set of cracks as two more red-clad wizards appeared in the alleyway and began walking in the opposite direction of the four they had seen earlier. Cautiously, he held his wand out to Grim.
The man wrapped his fingers around the wand carefully like it would shock him if he moved too quickly. He started to pull it away, but Harry's hand still had a firm hold. The two locked eyes. Grim whispered, "Trust me, Harry. I gave your parents my word that I'd take care of you. I bollocksed up when they died, but now it's time for me to make good on that."
For whatever reason, this settled Harry's worries. He released his grip on the wand. Grim turned it in his hand and studied for a moment. "I can tell the wood is holly… what's the core? Dragon heartstring?"
"Phoenix feather." Without knowing why, he added, "From Professor Dumbledore's phoenix."
Grim's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "Fawkes, huh? That's an impressive bird there."
Suddenly he twirled the wand in between his fingers in a well-practiced motion. Even in the dark, Harry could see the joy Grim was feeling from holding a wand. The man pointed the wand at the cage. It instantly shrunk to the size of a small book. Harry opened his trunk and placed the cage inside, then watched in amazement as Grim shrank the trunk even further, no larger than one of his own fingers. He bent down and picked up the miniature trunk and stuck it in his front pocket before looking back at Grim with a question on his face.
"How are we getting to Crawley without being seen? Surely it's miles away."
Grim flashed his yellow teeth again. "We're going to apparate there. Have you ever traveled that way?" Harry shook his head. "That's what those Aurors out there did a few minutes ago. It's not the most pleasant way to travel, but it's certainly the quickest. Grab my hand and we'll go."
Harry glanced at the filthy hand with dirt under the fingernails, another internal struggle battling in his mind. This was the point of no return…
He grabbed Grim's hand.
"Now, you might feel a little squeeze." The man turned his shoulder. Harry immediately felt like his body had been yanked by an invisible rope around his hand into a pipe no wider than his fist with his whole body following. He tried to scream but found it impossible to breathe. Was Grim tricking him? Was he about to die?
After a second or two, though it seemed like hours, Harry felt his body expand back to normal and his feet touch the ground again. A wave of nausea and dizziness smashed into him, and he promptly bent over and vomited. Grim rubbed his back reassuringly and waved his wand, vanishing the remains of his last meal. "That happens to everyone the first time. Hell, it still happens to me!" He gave his barking laugh again, which made Harry a little less embarrassed. Hopefully, Harry thought, I won't have to travel that way again.
Once recovered, Grim handed Harry back his wand and instructed him to put his invisibility cloak back on. They then carefully made their way through the streets of Crawley, avoiding street lamps and ducking out of sight when the random car passed. Several minutes of silence went by, which Harry spent thinking about what was about to happen next. Depending on where Hermione lived, he could try to slip into her back garden and wait for her family to return. That would be a problem though if there was no fence, or if the neighbors had windows looking over into the garden. He could also just stay with Grim, wherever he would stay with…
"Padfoot!" Grim yanked his head around and shushed him - apparently he had said that louder than intended. Harry whispered, "Sorry - what about Padfoot? You left him behind!"
Grim shook his head, his eyes focused on a car stopped at an intersection behind them. "Don't worry about Padfoot, he's a… a Grim, you see. A magical dog. He always finds me."
"But... I thought your name is Grim?" Harry watched nervously as momentary panic flashed on Grim's face.
"Harry… for your safety, let's just keep calling me Grim for now. There's a reason, but let's not go into it now."
To his own surprise, Harry found this answer acceptable, despite the circumstances, and so continued their stealthy sojourn.
They finally found the street where Hermione lived and proceeded to her home, which was on a corner lot. Harry gazed at the property. It was a beautiful two-story house with a large front porch and a balcony above it. The home and the others on the street were nothing like the houses on Privet Drive. There was a tall wooden fence around the back side of the house, but to Harry's disappointment the house next to it appeared to have a direct view into the back garden.
He was about to ask Grim what they should do now when he realized that there were lights on in the house. Harry pulled the cloak off to see more clearly. A shadow passed the window on the second floor before returning and standing in front of it. From his viewpoint, it looked like the person was brushing their hair. His mouth pulled back in an involuntary smile as he recognized its quite bushy nature. Hermione was home!
It took a cough for Harry to remember that Grim was still standing there. There was a knowing look in his eye that made Harry squirm just a little. "See? Aren't you glad I convinced you to travel here?" Grim used his shoulder to nudge Harry toward the door. Harry took a few steps before stopping. He had spent most of the night wishing he could get to Hermione. Now that he was almost there, his mind began racing. What if Hermione doesn't want me to be here? What if she gets mad that I blew up my aunt and tells me she never wants to see me again? What if - Harry took a step back - her parents tell me to go away and never come back?
Two hands grabbed his shoulders from behind. Harry tensed at the sudden contact. Grim's voice was comforting if not a little harsh from its long-term lack of use. "Harry… if she is as good a friend as you say she is, she's not going to let you leave that house tonight, even if she isn't happy with your situation. Just take a deep breath, ring that doorbell, and tell her what happened. You'll be much safer staying with her than with me." Grim squeezed his shoulders before letting go. Harry, feeling slightly more confident, turned to look up at the man.
"I take it… you'll be going on?" The question sounded dumb to his ears after saying it out loud, so Harry attempted to rephrase. "Where will you be staying?"
Grim shrugged. "I haven't gotten that far along yet, but I imagine I'll be close by. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself," he added with a wink. "Oh, and Harry?" Harry had started to turn back towards Hermione's before looking back. "It'd probably be best if… you don't mention me to her or her family, or to anyone else for that matter. There's, uh… well, been a bit of a mix-up since I left Azkaban, and…" For the first time, Grim seemed unsure what to say.
Harry nodded. "Sure, Grim. I won't mention you. But… you'll need to tell me more about you, like who you really are, when you can. Can we meet again soon, once everything is settled?"
Harry wasn't sure what it was about his words that affected him, but Grim now appeared ready to cry. "Meet you again... I would love that, Harry."
His eyes flickered up to the house. "For now though, you need to get inside. Take your trunk out of your pocket so I can tell you how to unshrink it." Harry did as he was told, placing the trunk down on the pavement. "Now, the spell is Finite incantatem - don't worry, it just stops magic, the Trace won't pick it up." Grim showed him the wand motion, and Harry was surprised to see the trunk return to its normal size on the first attempt.
Harry dragged the trunk up the front steps onto the porch. He glanced back to tell Grim thanks, but he had disappeared, the street showing no sign of him or where he went. Now alone, Harry found himself literally standing at Hermione's front door. Doubt was creeping back into his thoughts, causing him to shake with worry. What do I say to her? Harry thought. His mind was overrun with different excuses or stories he could tell her that would be better than the truth.
Unable to decide, Harry was just about to give up and walk away when a flash of fur shot past him. Padfoot rang the doorbell with his nose and then raised up on his back paws and placed his front paws on Harry's chest, nearly knocking him over. The dog winked at him before running off the porch and into the shadows. Harry stood frozen in astonishment until the porch light came on over his head. He quickly tried to straighten his clothes as best he could as the door opened. A tall man stood in the doorway. He had wide shoulders and curly, brown hair with a closely-trimmed beard. He smiled politely at Harry. "Good evening young man. Can I help you?"
Harry stammered, "Yes sir… uh… is this… I mean, are you… M-mister Granger?" Inwardly Harry kicked at himself; this was not going to be a strong first impression. To his surprise, the man's smile became warmer, almost familial.
"Yes, I have been called that before. May I ask who you are?"
Before he could begin to respond, he heard her voice.
"Harry? Is that you?"
Mr. Granger stepped back from the door, allowing Harry to see into the house for the first time. At the end of the entrance hall was Hermione. Maybe it was the way the lights looked behind her, or maybe it was a glare off his glasses, but she appeared almost… angelic. Her hair was damp as if she had taken a shower, and while it had been brushed, it was still quite wild.
When she saw him, her face lit up as if a thousand fireworks had been set off. She took off running down the hall, out the door, and slammed full-force into Harry. Even seeing her coming had not prepared him, and they almost toppled down the front steps. Hermione, oblivious to their near-demise, hugged him intensely and began talking.
"Oh, Harry! How have you been? We just got home from France an hour ago! We weren't supposed to come back for another week but then Mum got an emergency surgery call in - she's an oral surgeon, I don't know if I've told you that or that she's a dentist, it's much easier to explain - and so we're back early. You should go to the beaches in France someday though, they are so lovely! I spent nearly the whole time reading on the beach, though I'm sure you could guess that with my tan."
Hermione pulled back without letting go of Harry so that she could look him in the eye. It appeared she was about to continue on about her vacation when her expression went from a smile to a frown.
"What are you doing here? How did you get here, I don't see a car or - and how would you know that we were home already? I sent your birthday gift with Hedwig, it was so lovely that she came without being asked, but I haven't seen her since and - what's wrong Harry?"
While staring at Hermione and half-listening to her, feeling her pressed up against him, Harry felt the overwhelming need to say something - cool. Something that would impress her, or make her laugh. When Hermione finished her last question and looked at him with concern, the last thing he expected to come out of his mouth was a sob. But that's exactly what happened. He felt hot tears well up and spill out of his eyes.
"Hermione… I… they're going to snap my wand… and expel me!" And with that, any hope of impressing her went out the window as he completely broke down. His legs gave out from under him, leaving Hermione to bear both of their weights. She struggled valiantly to keep them upright before collapsing to the porch.
Mr. Granger, who had been watching their exchange with crossed arms and a gentle smile, rushed forward and pulled Harry gently up and guided him inside the house with Hermione close behind.
A/N: This story came about because of a conversation on Discord the week of Halloween 2020 about Harry going to Hermione for help instead of to the Leaky Cauldron after the incident with Aunt Marge and learning about Sirius much earlier than in canon. I told myself when I started writing last month that I would never attempt a long story - yet here we are.
The end game is a full-rewrite of Prisoner of Azkaban. Please don't expect daily or even weekly updates - I want to do this story right, so I'm planning for updates every two weeks or so, depending on work and family life.
A big shout out to Oxen from Discord - we put our heads together to develop the outline for the story, and he is serving as Alpha/ British linguist for my tale. This tale is also dedicated to Valniz, also of Discord, for a very obvious reason.
My plan was to have the first several chapters ready before publishing, but let's face it - It's Halloween!
If you have opinions on where the story should go, I will be glad to take them into consideration. Otherwise, enjoy the ride!