Rory looked over at Harry who was laid flat on his back, his breathing hard as though he had been running, his hands pressed over his face. He sat up his hand still over his scar as his other hand reached for his glasses.
"You okay Harry" She asked looking up from her book.
"Just a dream. Why aren't you asleep?" Truthfully, she hadn't been able to sleep properly since the werewolf attack.
"Just couldn't sleep. Did you want to talk about the dream. I'm here if you do"
"It was nothing, don't worry about it. But just so you know I'm here for you as well, you can talk to me if theres anything on your mind you know that right" His eyes meet hers.
"I know Harry. That's what siblings are for" She stands up and walks over to his bed as he moves over making room for her. She lays down next to him wrapping her arms around him like she used to when they were younger and he'd have a nightmare.
"I love you Ror. I'm glad you're my sister" She smiled at him.
"I love you too and I wouldn't want anyone other than you as a brother" As soon as he had drifted back off to sleep she stood up and crossed to the window opening the curtains to look at the street below. Privet Drive looked exactly as a respectable suburban street would be expected to look in the early hours of Saturday morning. All the curtains were closed. There wasn't a living creature in sight, not even a cat. She walked back over to her bed and took out a piece of parchment to write to Remus and Sirius. Starting with her letter to Sirius.
Hey Pads,
I hope freedom's treating you well, you deserve it after 12 years of hell. I miss you just so you know.
Honestly I can't remember the last time I was able to sleep properly and I think Harry's starting to notice. It's not because I'm not tired because I am I'm so tired but every time I close my eyes and go to sleep I dream of that night and of nearly dying, it's so much worse than before. I'd got used to my old nightmares but these are new. Doesn't help the thoughts of knowing Moony's out there somewhere blaming himself and not answering my letters. I miss him and I miss you.
Luckily we're leaving this place tomorrow to go to the Weasleys for the rest of the summer. We're all going to the Quidditch World Cup.
Love you Pad's.
Love your little wolf x
Dear Moony,
I need you so much right now. I lied when I said I was fine in all my other letters, I'm not. I'm the furthest thing from fine. I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes to sleep I have nightmares and I'm so tired. I've been writing to Sirius but he's not you and I want you. I know you feel guilty but I don't blame you Moony, I blame the werewolf that you have no control over. I see you as two different people. You're my Moony, the guy who knows how I have my tea and always has chocolate on hand when I feel sad and the person who gives me the best hugs.
I love you Moony please write back to me. I need you.
On a happier message, me and Harry get out of the Dursleys tomorrow. We're going to the Weasleys for the rest of the summer and even have tickets for the Quidditch World Cup.
Love from your Wolf x
Once the inks dry she attaches both letter's to Phoenix's leg and takes her to the window.
"Go to Sirius first them Remus" Rory tells her opening the window, she gives her head a little stroke. "Don't forget we'll be at the Weasley's when you return so go there" She hoots slightly before taking flight out of the window. Rory watches her until she can no longer see her before deciding to try and get at least some sleep. Atlas jumped up beside her and snuggled into her side. As Rory closed her eyes she jumped slightly as Dudley gave a tremendous grunting snore from the next room. Trying to relax she started telling herself that there's nothing in this house that shouldn't be here. The only people here are Harry, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley and they were plainly still asleep. She laid there trying to sleep until the sunrise slowly crept into the room. Finally, when the sun had risen, when the bedroom walls had turned gold and when sounds of movement could be heard from Vernon and Petunia's room she decided to give up with trying to sleep and got out of bed grabbing a pair of ripped jeans and an oversized black hoody along with some hair clips and a brush before heading to the bathroom. After getting dressed she brushed her waist length hair before moving it all to covering her neck as best as possible clipping it in place. With the help of the hoody and her hair the scar's on her neck were hardly visible and her chest fully covered as she headed back to hers and Harry's room sitting back on her bed and picking up the book again with Atlas now on her lap as Harry started to stir.
"Morning Harold" She smiled at him.
"Morning Rory and my names not Harold" He says in a still sleepy voice before grabbing his glasses and looking at her "How long have you been awake"
"Only about half an hour. Got woke up when Petunia and Vernon walked downstairs, you know how not quiet they are" She says hoping he'll believe the lie.
"Yeah they don't really care about waking others up" By the time Harry and Rory had arrived in the kitchen, the three Dursleys were already seated around the table. None of them looked up as the two Potters entered or sat down. Vernon's large red face was hidden behind the morning's Daily Mail, and Petunia was cutting a grapefruit into quarters, her lips pursed over her horselike teeth. Dudley looked furious and sulky, and somehow seemed to be taking up even more space than usual. This was saying something, as he always took up an entire side of the square table by himself. When Petunia put a quarter of unsweetened grapefruit onto Dudley's plate.
"There you are, Duddy darling" Dudley glowered at her. His life had taken a most unpleasant turn since he had come home for the summer with his end-of-year report. Vernon and Petunia had managed to find excuses for his bad marks as usual. Petunia always insisted that Dudley was a very gifted boy whose teachers didn't understand him, while Vernon maintained that "he didn't want some swotty little nancy boy for a son anyway." They also skated over the accusations of bullying in the report "He's a boisterous little boy, but he wouldn't hurt a fly!" Petunia had said tearfully. However, at the bottom of the report there were a few well-chosen comments from the school nurse that not even Vernon and Petunia could explain away. No matter how much Petunia wailed that Dudley was big-boned, and that his poundage was really puppy fat, and that he was a growing boy who needed plenty of food, the fact remained that the school outfitters didn't stock knickerbockers big enough for him anymore. The school nurse had seen what Petunia's eyes - so sharp when it came to spotting fingerprints on her gleaming walls, and in observing the comings and goings of the neighbours - simply refused to see: that far from needing extra nourishment, Dudley had reached roughly the size and weight of a young killer whale. So after many tantrums, after arguments that shook our bedroom floor, and many tears from Petunia the new regime had begun. The diet sheet that had been sent by the Smeltings school nurse had been taped to the fridge, which had been emptied of all Dudley's favourite things - fizzy drinks and cakes, chocolate bars and burgers and filled instead with fruit and vegetables and the sorts of things that Vernon called "rabbit food." To make Dudley feel better about it all, Petunia had insisted that the whole family follow the diet too.
She now passed a grapefruit quarter to Harry and Rory, both of which were a lot smaller than Dudley's. Petunia seemed to feel that the best way to keep up Dudley's morale was to make sure that he did, at least, get more to eat than his cousin's. Not that they cared for Petunia didn't know what was hidden under the loose floorboard upstairs in their bedroom. She had no idea that they weren't following the diet at all. The moment Harry had got wind of the fact that they was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to his friends with pleas for help, and they had risen to the occasion magnificently. Hedwig had returned from Hermione's house with a large box stuffed full of sugar-free snacks. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes which we hadn't touched those having too much experience of Hagrid's cooking. Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies. Poor Errol, who was elderly and feeble, had needed a full five days to recover from the journey. And then on Harry's birthday which the Dursleys had completely ignored of course he had received four superb birthday cakes, one each from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Pad's. Harry still had two of them left, and so, looking forward to a real breakfast when he got back upstairs, he ate his grapefruit without complaint. Vernon laid aside his paper with a deep sniff of disapproval and looked down at his own grapefruit quarter.
"Is this it?" he said grumpily to Petunia. She gave him a severe look, and then nodded pointedly at Dudley, who had already finished his own grapefruit quarter and was eying Rorys with a very sour look in his piggy little eyes. Vernon gave a great sigh, which ruffled his large, bushy moustache, and picked up his spoon. The doorbell rang. Vernon heaved himself out of his chair and set off down the hall. Quick as a flash, while his mother was occupied with the kettle, Dudley stole the rest of Vernon's grapefruit. Rory could hear talking at the door, someone was laughing, and Vernon was answering curtly. Then the front door closed, and the sound of ripping paper came from the hall. Petunia set the teapot down on the table and looked curiously around to see where Vernon had got to. She didn't have to wait long to find out; after about a minute, he was back. He looked livid.
"You," he barked "In the living room. Now. Both of you" He said pointing at Rory and Harry. Bewildered, wondering what on earth they was supposed to have done this time, they got up and followed Vernon out of the kitchen and into the next room. He closed the door sharply behind both of them. "So," he said, marching over to the fireplace and turning to face his niece and nephew as though he were about to pronounce them under arrest. "So"
"So what?" Rory answered. Harry tried to hide his smile.
"This just arrived," He said as he brandished a piece of purple writing paper at them. "A letter. About you two." Their confusion increased. Who would be writing to Vernon about them? Who did they know who sent letters by the postman? Vernon glared at Harry and Rory, then looked down at the letter and began to read aloud.
"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry and Aurora about my son's Ron, Fred and George. As they might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place this Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I do hope you will allow us to take Harry and Aurora to the match, as this really is a once-in-a lifetime opportunity; Britain hasn't hosted the cup for thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have them stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see them safely onto the train back to school. It would be best for Harry or Aurora to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is. Hoping to see Harry and Aurora soon, Yours sincerely, Molly Weasley P.S. I do hope we've put enough stamps on" Vernon finished reading, put his hand back into his breast pocket, and drew out something else. "Look at this," he growled. He held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasley's letter had come, and Rory had to fight down a laugh. Every bit of it was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys' address in minute writing.
"She did put enough stamps on, then," Harry said, trying to sound as though Mrs. Weasley's was a mistake anyone could make. Their uncle's eyes flashed.
"The postman noticed," he said through gritted teeth. "Very interested to know where this letter came from, he was. That's why he rang the doorbell. Seemed to think it was funny." They didn't say anything. Other people might not understand why Vernon was making a fuss about too many stamps, but they had lived with the Dursleys too long not to know how touchy they were about anything even slightly out of the ordinary. Their worst fear was that someone would find out that they were connected no matter how distantly with people like Mrs. Weasley. Vernon was still glaring at them as Rory tried to keep her expression neutral. If they didn’t do or say anything stupid, they might just be in for the treat of a lifetime. They stood waiting for him to say something, but he merely continued to glare. Harry decided to break the silence.
"So can we go then?" he asked. A slight spasm crossed Vernon's large purple face. The moustache bristled. The two Potters knew what was going on behind the moustache: a furious battle as two of Vernon's most fundamental instincts came into conflict. Allowing them to go would make them happy, something he had struggled against for thirteen years. On the other hand, allowing them to disappear to the Weasleys' for the rest of the summer would get rid of them two weeks earlier than anyone could have hoped, and he hated having them in the house. To give himself thinking time, it seemed, he looked down at Mrs. Weasley's letter again.
"Who is this woman?" he said, staring at the signature with distaste.
"You've seen her," Harry said. "She's my friend Ron's mother, she was meeting him off the Hog - off the school train at the end of last term." Vernon screwed up his enormous face as though trying to remember something very unpleasant.
"Dumpy sort of woman?" he growled finally. "Load of children with red hair?" Harry frowned as did Rory. It was a bit rich of Vernon to call anyone "dumpy," when his own son, Dudley, had finally achieved what he'd been threatening to do since the age of three, and become wider than he was tall. Vernon was perusing the letter again. "Quidditch," he muttered under his breath. "Quidditch - what is this rubbish?"
"It's a sport," Harry said shortly. "Played on broom"
"All right, all right!" He said loudly. They saw, with some satisfaction, that Vernon looked vaguely panicky. Apparently his nerves couldn't stand the sound of the word "broomsticks" in his living room. He took refuge in perusing the letter again. Rory saw his lips form the words "send us your answer in the normal way." He scowled. "What does she mean, 'the normal way'?" he spat.
"Normal for us," Harry answered, and before Vernon could stop him, he added, "you know, owl post. That's what's normal for wizards." Vernon looked as outraged as if Harry had just uttered a disgusting swearword. Shaking with anger, he shot a nervous look through the window, as though expecting to see some of the neighbours with their ears pressed against the glass.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under my roof?" he hissed, his face now a rich plum colour. "You stand there, in the clothes Petunia and I have put on your ungrateful backs"
"Only after Dudley finished with them," Harry said coldly, and indeed, he was dressed in a sweatshirt so large for him that he had had to roll back the sleeves five times so as to be able to use his hands, and which fell past the knees of his extremely baggy jeans. Rory was lucky that she got newer clothes because of her being a girl and older so Dudley's wouldn't fit in the slightest
"I will not be spoken to like that!" Vernon said, trembling with rage.
"Okay, I can't see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I've got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know - my godfather." Harry had done it, he had said the magic words. Now they watched the purple recede blotchily from Vernon's face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.
"You're - you're writing to him, are you?" Vernon said, in a would-be calm voice - but Rory had seen the pupils of his tiny eyes contract with sudden fear.
"Obviously we talk to him quite often I actually sent him a letter this morning" Rory said smirking.
"Well - yeah," Harry said, casually. "It's been a while since he heard from me, and, you know, if he doesn't he might start thinking something's wrong." He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. They could almost see the cogs working under Vernon's thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop either of them writing to Sirius, Sirius would think they were being mistreated. If he told them they couldn't go to the Quidditch World Cup, one of them would write and tell Sirius, who would know they were being mistreated. There was only one thing for Vernon to do. They could see the conclusion forming in his mind as though the great moustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible but Rory smiled. And then
"Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy this stupid this World Cup thing. You write and tell these these Weasleys they're to pick you up, mind. I haven't got time to go dropping you off all over the country. And you can spend the rest of the summer there. And you can tell your - your godfather tell him tell him you're going."
"Technically he's not my godfather, he's more of an uncle to me but my godfathers a werewolf anyway so" Rory saw the fear flash in Vernon's eyes quickly before Harry spoke.
"Okay then," Harry said brightly. They turned and walked toward the living room door. Outside in the hall Harry nearly ran into Dudley, who had been lurking behind the door, clearly hoping to overhear them being told off. He looked shocked to see the broad grin on Rory and Harry's face. "That was an excellent breakfast, wasn't it?" Harry said. "I feel really full, don't you?" Laughing at the astonished look on Dudley's face, Harry took the stairs three at a time, and hurled himself back into their bedroom as Rory followed trying not to laugh. The first thing Harry saw was that Hedwig was back. She was sitting in her cage, staring at Harry with her enormous amber eyes, and clicking her beak in the way that meant she was annoyed about something. Rory walked to her and gently stroked her head.
"Hey girl what's wrong" Exactly what was annoying her became apparent almost at once as Rory spoke.
"OUCH!" Harry said as what appeared to be a small, grey, feathery tennis ball collided with the side of his head. Harry massaged the spot furiously, looking up to see what had hit him as Rory burst out laughing, and saw a minute owl, small enough to fit into the palm of a hand, whizzing excitedly around the room like a loose firework. Harry then realized that the owl had dropped a letter at his feet. Harry tore open the envelope. Inside was a hastily scribbled note.
Harry - Mum's writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. They might already have the letter, I don't know how fast Muggle post is. Thought I'd send this with Pig anyway. We're coming for you both whether the Muggles like it or not, you can't miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon it's better if we pretend to ask their permission first. We'll come and get you both at five o'clock. Hermione's arrived yesterday afternoon. Percy's started work - the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Don't mention anything about Abroad while you're here unless you want the pants bored off you.
See you soon, Ron
"I'm guessing your names Pig" Rory said holding the small owl in her hand after managing to catch him, stroking his head before letting him go. The owl fluttered down on top of Hedwig's cage. Hedwig looked coldly up at it, as though daring it to try and come any closer. Harry seized his eagle-feather quill once more, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, and wrote.
Ron, it's all okay, the Muggles say I can come. See you five o'clock
Harry folded the note up very small, and with immense difficulty, tied it to the tiny owl's leg as it hopped on the spot with excitement. The moment the note was secure, the owl was off again it zoomed out of the window and out of sight.
"I'd love to have that sort of energy" Rory said laughing slightly at the small owl as it disappeared. Harry turned to Hedwig.
"Feeling up to a long journey?" he asked her. Hedwig hooted in a dignified sort of a way. "Can you take this to Sirius for me?" he said, picking up his letter. "Hang on I just want to finish it." He unfolded the parchment and hastily added a postscript.
If you want to contact me, I'll be at my friend Ron Weasley's for the rest of the summer. His dad's got us tickets for the Quidditch World Cup!
With the letter finished, he tied it to Hedwig's leg; she kept unusually still, as though determined to show him how a real post owl should behave.
"I'll be at Ron's when you get back, all right?" Harry told her. She nipped his finger affectionately, then, with a soft swooshing noise, spread her enormous wings and soared out of the open window. Harry watched her out of sight, then crawled under his bed, wrenched up the loose floorboard, and pulled out two large chunk of birthday cake. Handing Rory one before he sat there on the floor eating his bit as Rory sat beside him.
"Couple more hours and we're out of here for good" She said to him taking a small bite of her piece of cake.