"NO…ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!"
Harry Potter glared at his Uncle Vernon with disdain. He'd just asked if it was all right if he went to Hermione's for the summer, and the pudgy, older man had immediately exploded.
"Listen, Uncle Vernon, I said that I was invited to a friend's house for the summer, and that's where I plan on going. You won't have to worry about me at all!"
"I said no! I will not let you go traipsing about the country with your strange friends. You get into enough trouble as it is; I won't allow you to go anywhere."
At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Harry grinned inwardly. He'd planned this out very carefully. He'd even stashed his trunk near the door, and he'd let Hedwig out the night before.
"Well then, why don't you tell them right now? That's them at the door." Uncle Vernon's face contorted in anger, and he growled under his breath.
Meanwhile, Harry's Aunt Petunia had gone to answer the door. Upon opening it, she saw a young woman with long brown hair and soft brown eyes. She was dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a red sweatshirt.
"Hello ma'am, my name is Hermione Granger." To Aunt Petunia, she looked exceptionally 'normal'.
"My…such politeness…what can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for Harry Potter."
Aunt Petunia's smile faded instantly, and a look of disgust appeared on her face. Hermione suddenly felt very small.
"What do want to see him for?"
"She's here to pick me up!" a voice said behind her. Hermione's smile returned when she saw Harry appear behind his aunt.
"Hi Harry."
"Hi, just give me a minute, my stuff's right here." Reaching into the hall closet, he drew out his trunk and heaved it up into his arms.
"Okay, let's go!" Harry's aunt was speechless, and she looked frozen in place so he gently nudged her aside and headed out.
As he walked down the entrance path, Harry saw a van waiting for them out in the street, and a man who he assumed was Mr. Granger was at the wheel.
"Hold it, boy!" a voice thundered. It was Uncle Vernon, and he charged after Harry.
Both of teenagers stopped in their tracks, and Harry put his trunk down with a loud thud. He could tell that his uncle was ready to pop, but he didn't care. Hermione looked on nervously as the elder man grabbed Harry's shoulder firmly.
"I said that you won't be going anywhere!"
Harry gave an apologetic look towards Hermione then grabbed hold of his uncle's hand. Using strength born of many years of quidditch practice and hard magical training, Harry forcibly removed the man's hand from his shoulder.
"Would you be so kind as to not do that again?" he growled and turned towards his uncle. By now, Aunt Petunia had followed after her husband, and even Dudley had come to the door to hear what the ruckus was about.
Uncle Vernon, for the most part, was completely surprised that Harry had been able to overcome his grip.
"Let me explain this one more time…Hermione and her family were gracious enough to invite me for the summer, and I accepted. You don't want me around here, and I don't care to be here so it fixes both our problems."
"Absolutely not, you will not go gallivanting off with some whore that you met at that disgusting school!"
Hermione was furious! Harry had told her how bad his aunt and uncle were, but she was not going to stand by and be insulted like that. However, someone beat her to the punch.
"Don't you ever call Hermione a whore again, Uncle Vernon!"
Harry's eyes locked onto the obese man, and a fire ignited inside them. His power roared to the surface and stood simmering just underneath his angry exterior. Hermione could feel the magic coming off of Harry, but to a muggle, he merely looked extremely pissed.
"What is this?"
Uncle Vernon backed away in horror, and Harry stalked him back to the house. Aunt Petunia's bottom lip was quivering, and she clutched at her husband once he was close enough. Harry continued to advance and stopped just short of the overhang on the porch.
"I'm leaving now, and that's it! And if you ever call Hermione a whore or anything else, so help me, I'll make you wish you never met me!"
The fire in Harry's eyes blazed, and it looked ready to leap out of his body and scorch his demeaning relatives. The Dursleys scurried back inside their house like a pack of scared rats and slammed the door.
'That takes care of that!' Harry said to himself and turned back around. Hermione just stood there staring at him.
"What is it?" he asked with a soft smile.
"You looked ready to blow the whole house up!"
"Nah, as much as they despise me, I'd never do something like that." The smile returned to Hermione's face once again.
"Well, come on, you can meet my dad!"
Hermione gave him a hand, and the two of them picked up Harry's trunk.
Upon approaching the van, Mr. Granger exited the vehicle and walked around to open the rear door for them. After Harry set it inside, he turned towards the older man. He looked to be in his late thirties early forties, had sandy blond hair, and hazel eyes.
"Ah, so you're the young man I've heard so much about – from Hermione that is." His daughter beamed with pride, and Harry blushed slightly.
"How do you do, sir, I'm Harry Potter?" and he extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Harry swore that he saw a hint of nervousness flash in the man's eyes.
"I'm John Granger, it's a pleasure to meet you too, Harry, Hermione's told us quite a lot about you." The young man's head lowered slightly.
"Um…Mr. Granger, I apologize for what you just saw; my uncle should never have called Hermione something so degrading."
"Relax Harry, I saw how you defended her, and I thank you for that. Well, I suggest we get going."
"Come on, you can ride in the back with me," Hermione chirped and led him around to the side door.
She hopped into the first row of seats, and Harry sat beside her as he slid the door shut. Hermione reached down and took his hand, and he felt all the tension draining out of his body. Her eyes took hold of him, and her gaze made his heartbeat accelerate rapidly.
'Gosh, has it only been a few days? It feels like it's been a year!' Harry thought silently.
Mr. Granger turned on the engine, and they pulled away from the Dursleys' home.
"Excuse me, but could we stop for a moment, please?" Harry asked about two blocks down the street.
"Sure, is something wrong?" Mr. Granger asked.
"Did you forget something?" Hermione added.
"Sort of…I'll just be a minute."
Harry climbed out of the van and looked towards a clump of trees that resided near the Dursleys' house. He whistled softly and waited. Out of the grove sprung a snowy, white owl, and Hermione immediately recognized her.
"It's Hedwig!"
"Who's that?" her father inquired.
"That's Harry's pet owl; I was wondering why he wasn't carrying her with him."
Hedwig landed on Harry's arm, and he brushed her white feathers tenderly.
"All right, girl, I'm leaving now. Think you can follow us?" His owl screeched loudly and bobbed her head.
"Okay, off you go!" Harry raised his arm, and Hedwig flapped her wings. The snowy owl lifted off, and she swooped around the neighborhood, keeping a watchful eye.
"Thank you."
Harry climbed back in, and Hermione chuckled.
"I wondered why she wasn't with you."
"I let her loose last night, and she was waiting for me to call her."
"Will she really be able to follow us?" Mr. Granger asked in slight amazement.
"Oh absolutely, that's the smartest owl I know!" Hermione answered. Harry just grinned. Mr. Granger turned his attention back to the road, and the trio headed off.
Four hours later, Harry watched, as they pulled up in front of a beautiful, two-story home. It had black shingles on the roof, white siding that looked freshly painted, and a beautiful garden flanking both sides of the entryway.
"Wow, your house is incredible, Hermione!" His girlfriend squeezed his hand.
Mr. Granger drove the van up the half-rotary like driveway and parked near the front door.
"Well, here we are. Hermione, why don't you take Harry inside; I'll grab his trunk."
"Are you sure, sir? Usually, it takes two people to carry that thing!" Harry objected.
"Don't worry, I'll manage."
Hermione climbed over Harry and jumped out the door.
"C'mon you! I want you to meet my mom!"
Harry grinned inwardly; he'd never seen Hermione like this before. She looked like she was floating on air – and not levitating. He beamed at the thought of being responsible for making her look so radiant.
Hermione grabbed him by the hand and practically dragged him towards the door.
"Hold on, I'm coming!" he laughed.
"Mom, we're here!" Hermione called after she'd let them in.
Harry took a quick look around and found that he liked the interior of the house. From his vantage point, he could see a living room to the left and a dining room beyond that. The kitchen was straight ahead from the front door, and Harry saw what he guessed was a den to the right of the front door.
"Ah, so you must be Harry!"
Turning his head, the young wizard saw a woman in her late thirties coming out of the kitchen. She had long, brown hair just like Hermione and blue eyes, but they held the same depth as Hermione's carried.
"How do you do, I'm Harry Potter." He extended his hand, and Mrs. Granger gladly shook it.
She eyed him and knew instantly that this was the young man that her daughter had written to her about. Hermione had drawn a complete picture for her – messy, dark hair, tall stature, and green eyes that could melt lead.
"Nice to meet you, Harry, I'm Melinda Granger."
"Are you going to keep him in the doorway forever, dear?" came a voice behind them. Mr. Granger stood behind them holding Harry's trunk and looking ready to collapse.
"Sorry about that, honey." Mrs. Granger quickly had them move out of the way.
Harry turned towards Mr. Granger and whispered something under his breath.
"Huh, guess this thing gets lighter the more you carry it," he laughed.
Hermione looked at Harry out of the corner of her eye and saw him trying to keep a grin off his face. He was really sweet; he'd put a lightening charm on his trunk to cut the weight in half.
"Well then, I just finished making lunch so come on in."
Harry followed Mrs. Granger into the kitchen with Hermione in tow. Again, the décor captivated the young man. The cabinets and countertops were a deep maple color, and he could see several spice ranks hung along the wall. Hermione had told him that both her parents worked as dentists, but Harry couldn't argue with their furnishing taste.
"Is there something that I can do to help?" he asked.
"Not at all, just sit down at the table."
"You heard her, Potter, march!" Hermione ordered. Harry tried hard not to laugh as his girlfriend shoved him into the dining room.
The two sat down at the oval shaped table, and Hermione glared at him slightly.
"Harry, you're a guest here; you don't have to do anything."
"Hermione, I'm gonna be here for the whole summer; I can't just free-load off your parents; that's rude!"
"You're too noble for your own good."
"I'm just being polite," he countered.
"Oh really…" Hermione leaned closer and whispered in his ear, "…then be even more polite and kiss me."
Back in the kitchen, Mrs. Granger listened to their conversation in the next room. Her daughter had not exaggerated when she'd mentioned what a giving person Harry really was. From what little she knew, Harry Potter was a legend in the wizarding world; she found it odd that a person with such fame could be so humble. Smiling to herself, she decided that it was going to be very interesting having Harry Potter in her house.