𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 || HJP

CHAPTER ONE : DECOYS, FALLEN WARRIORS AND THE CHOSEN ONE

Harry turned his back on the front door.

"And underneath, Hedwig" — Harry yanked open a door beneath the stairs — "is where I used to bunk! You never knew me back then — Blimey, it's tiny, slipped my mind...."

Harry surveyed the stacked shoes and umbrellas, reminiscing about waking each morning, gazing up at the underside of the staircase, often adorned with a spider or two.

Those were the days before he knew a thing about his true identity; before he discovered how his parents had met their end or why peculiar things often occurred around him. Yet, Harry could still recall the dreams that plagued him even in those days: muddled dreams featuring flashes of green light and once — Uncle Vernon almost crashed the car when Harry recounted it — a flying motorbike...

A sudden, thunderous roar echoed from somewhere nearby.

Harry straightened abruptly, thumping the top of his head on the low door frame. Only pausing to employ a few of Uncle Vernon's most colorful expletives, he stumbled back into the kitchen, clutching his head and peering out of the window into the back garden.

The darkness seemed to ripple, the air itself quivering. Then, one by one, figures began to materialize as their Disillusionment Charms lifted. Dominating the scene was Hagrid, donning a helmet and goggles and perched atop an enormous motorbike with a black sidecar attached.

All around him, others were dismounting from brooms and, in two cases, skeletal, black-winged horses. Ripping open the back door, Harry dashed into their midst.

There was a collective cry of greeting as Hermione enveloped him in a hug, Ron gave him a hearty pat on the back, and Hagrid asked, "All right, Harry? Ready for the off?"

"Absolutely," said Harry, grinning at them all. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you!"

"Change of plan," grumbled Mad-Eye, gripping two colossal, bulging sacks, his magical eye darting from the darkening sky to the house to the garden with dizzying speed. "Let's get undercover before we talk you through it."

"Sabrina wanted to join, Harry, but Ron flatly refused, and you know Sabrina—she's stubborn. They had a row, and Mr Weasley had to step in to stop the fight," explained Hermione as Harry ushered them back into the kitchen.

"She what?" exclaimed Harry in disbelief. "I've written to her countless times, making it clear that I don't want her involved in whatever plan we have, but I never received a response."

"I don't think she's going to heed your advice anymore," said Hermione. "She's genuinely worried about you. If I were in her shoes, I'd be too, and honestly, if you were in her position, you'd probably do the same or even worse."

Harry remained silent, acknowledging Hermione's point.

"I just don't want her in any more danger than she already is," he blurted out to Hermione.

"I understand your concern," she replied with a smile. "But before she's your ex-girlfriend, she's been your best friend. That's a fact you can't change. It's her decision if she wants to help you without considering the danger. You can't alter her mindset on that."

"And don't even entertain the idea of changing her mind; you two would just end up arguing. It's not what we need right now; we need unity," Hermione cautioned.

They found seats, perched on Aunt Petunia's gleaming work surfaces, or leaned against her spotless appliances: Ron, tall and lanky; Hermione, her bushy hair tied back in a long plait; Fred and George, grinning identically; Bill, bearing scars and long hair; Mr. Weasley, kindly faced, balding, his spectacles slightly askew; Mad-Eye, battle-worn, one-legged, his bright blue magical eye whizzing in its socket; Tonks, her short hair in her favorite shade of bright pink; Lupin, grayer and more lined; Fleur, slender and beautiful, with her long silvery blonde hair; Kingsley, bald, black, broad-shouldered; Hagrid, with his wild hair and beard, standing hunchbacked to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling; and Mundungus Fletcher, small, dirty, and hangdog, with his droopy basset hound's eyes and matted hair. Harry's heart seemed to expand and glow at the sight: he felt incredibly fond of all of them, even Mundungus, whom he had tried to strangle the last time they had met.