Rating:
PG-13
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Harry Potter Hermione Granger Parvati Patil Ron Weasley
Genres:
Romance Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 05/29/2003
Updated: 06/11/2003
Words: 119,713
Chapters: 25
Hits: 162,459

Dance With Me Harry

Aerie22

Story Summary:
COMPLETED. During the summer after his fourth year, after Uncle Vernon beats Harry, the only thing that keeps him going is thinking about Hermione's kiss at the train station. But once the authorities intervene, he is sent to live among the Muggles, where he learns about life and love. But will this help him win Hermione's heart? Or will Voldemort strike first?

Chapter 06

Chapter Summary:
During the summer after his fourth year, after Uncle Vernon beats Harry, the only thing that keeps him going is thinking about Hermione's kiss at the train station. But once the authorities intervene, he is sent to live among the Muggles, where he learns about life and love. But will this help him win Hermione's heart? Or will Voldemort strike first?
Posted:
05/29/2003
Hits:
6,583

DANCE WITH ME HARRY

By Aerie22

CHAPTER 6

Apparate

Dear Ron,

I still haven't heard from you. I hope you are all right. I also hope you are not mad at me. If you are, I'm really sorry. I'm a jerk. I thought you liked Hermione, but I wasn't sure it was like a girlfriend. Don't be mad. If you want Hermione as a girlfriend, that's fine with me. I just don't want you to be mad at me.

Your friend,

Harry

* * *

The day was a particularly hot and sunny. Harry was not really fair skinned, but he wasn't used to the summer. He had been sunburned a couple times and a child when the Dursleys were forced reluctantly to drag him along to the lake when Arabella Figg was not available to look after him. "Drinking, no doubt," was Aunt Petunia's only comment.

But now the sun was taking it's toll on Harry, who was still feeling the fading effects of his concussion. Fortunately, he only had this one lawn to mow during the afternoon. His only blessing was that he had been out in the sun for the past week and a half and had some color already.

He had finally finished the back lawn of the Geddes' home when Sara came running to fetch him. "Harry, you look like death warmed over. Come on inside and cool off. You can meet my mum."

Harry blinked the sweat out of his eyes and took a deep breath. "I guess I'm more out of shape than I thought," he said with a weary grin.

He dutifully followed Sara up to the back deck. But Sara didn't stop. "Come on, Harry. It's cool inside."

Harry hesitated. He was dirty and sweaty and his trousers were covered with grass clippings. Suddenly, a youthful looking older woman appeared in the door. "Well young man. Are you coming in or must we share this air conditioning with the entire neighborhood," she said with a smile.

Harry smiled shyly and entered.

He had been in the Geddes' house the first time he had mowed their lawn, when Sara had greeted him at the front door and led him through the house rather than taking him around the house to the back. But he continued to he impressed by the decor.

He shivered as the cool air his sweaty clothes and skin. "Here now," Mrs. Geddes said with a smile. "Take off that wet shirt and towel off," she said, handing him a thick bath towel. "We can't have you catching your death in the middle of summer, now, can we?" She turned. "Sara? Get one of daddy's tee-shirts for Harry."

She held her hand out. "I'm Vivian Geddes, Sara's mother."

"Yes, mam. We met while we were shopping. Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry. Harry Potter." Harry was flustered. He was concerned about tracking dirt and grass clippings into the large and spotless modern kitchen. He turned with questioning eyes.

She smiled warmly. "Oh yes. Of course. Oh, come now, young man. Take off that soaking shirt and towel off. It's not like I haven't seen a bare chest before. You'd think that Sara's Trevor didn't own any shirts when he is over here," she said, chuckling.

"Mummy!" Sara cried as she brought in a fresh, white tee-shirt.

Vivian Geddes rolled her eyes and laughed, and Harry smirked. He had taken to Vivian Geddes already. She looked like the woman in the formal portrait in the drawing room, except her hair was now shorter and her skin showed a healthy tan. She was not quite as tall as Sara, but just a slim and shapely, even though she was on the far side of forty.

"And what are you laughing at, Mr. Potter," Sara said with a pout.

Harry blushed and hung his head, but couldn't keep from smiling.

"Well, I'm waiting," Sara said, barely able to suppress her own smile. "And get that wet shirt off."

Harry continued to blush but dutifully removed his shirt, giving another shiver. He toweled off and took the proffered tee-shirt.

Sara took his shirt. "I'm still waiting," she said with an impatient pout.

Harry blushed even deeper. "Well...one of my roommates has a pet toad...named Trevor."

Sara blushed and shrieked as Vivian exploded in laughter. "Oh, that's precious," she exclaimed. "Trevor the toad. What a wonderful image. I've heard of kissing a frog who became a prince. This sounds like the reverse."

"Mummy!!" Sara exclaimed in annoyance and exasperation.

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Oh, Sara. He's such a stick. And I'm sure that the next thought he has will be his first," she said with a laugh. "Give me a boy with some gumption...like Harry here. Learning to work for a living."

Sara was beginning to get annoyed. "Trevor's got gumption. And he'll do well when he joins his father's brokerage firm."

Vivian smiled. "I'm sure he'll do well. But he'll never be as exciting as your father. He could have settled for being somebody's son. But he refused. And look where we are now. And look at all the adventures we've had."

Sara sulked. "Oh, who cares."

Vivian turned back to her guest. "Gawd, Harry. Whose shirt was this. It's so big it's been shifting around your neck. You look to have three or four different tan lines there," Vivian said.

Harry's smile faded. "It was my cousin Dudley's. He was a little heavy."

Vivian's smile faded a little, as well. "The Dursley boy. Didn't know the family. I'm sorry."

Harry settled down into a high stool at the stainless steel island counter running the length of the kitchen. "No problem. I'm staying with the Strowbridges now. They're wonderful," he said with a small smile.

Vivian and Sara both looked at him speculatively. "Are you all right now? We all heard about what happened," Vivian said. "They didn't give you that scar, did they?"

Harry felt a little self-conscious. "No. I got that when my parents died when I was one year old."

Vivian tilted her head in sympathy. Suddenly, she turned. "Sara, get this young man something to drink."

Sara's eyes flared, then softened as she turned to Harry. "Lemonade?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, please."

"So. Are you feeling all right now?" Vivian continued.

Harry nodded. "Yes

* * *

Dear Harry,

I received your owl. I am concerned that you were forced to leave your relatives' house this summer. I hope that everything is all right and that you are safe.

Guess what? My parents have been invited to give a series of lectures in America! They will be giving talks as part of a larger group sponsored by the American and Canadian dental associations on a variety of issues, including dentistry under the National Health Service, family dentistry in Britain and their experience as a married couple in the same profession.

We will be traveling throughout Canada, to Montreal, Toronto, Edmonton and Vancouver, then to San Francisco, Denver, Chicago and New York. I've never been to America and this will be like having the grand tour! I'm so excited. We won't be back until the end of August, so Professor McGonagall arranged that I order my schoolbooks by owl. I'll miss picking up some good summer reading from Flourish & Blotts. Oh, well, I'll probably be too busy sightseeing in Canada and the States to do more than our homework and some revising for the O.W.L.s. I hope you are studying hard. The O.W.L.s will be here before you know it.

Professor McGonagall says it has been arranged for me to be picked up on August 31 along with you and Ron and the rest of the Weasleys and then we will spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron and get to the train station first thing in the morning.

I hope all is well with you and that you aren't too bored in your new home. And I hope the people you are staying with are nicer than those terrible Dursleys.

I miss you like anything.

Love, Hermione

Harry sighed as he clutched the letter to his chest. 'She misses me,' he thought with excitement. And she wrote 'love.' He lay back in his bed, his eyes closed and a huge smile on his face, shivering with delight. He couldn't wait until September.

* * *

Over the course of the next week, Harry lost a little of his self-consciousness about mowing lawns or doing yard work shirtless. He had squirmed a little as Vivian Geddes applied a healthy dollop of sun block that first day. But the gentle breeze did feel nice against his bare skin. And he didn't feel nearly as clammy going from job to job in a sweat-soaked tee-shirt any more.

And he found that he felt less self-conscious working barechested than in an oversized cast-off tee-shirt from Dudley after refusing to wear the fresh new ones the Strowbridges had bought him. He had even succumbed to Mae's advice to wear cutoff jeans, despite worries about how his skinny legs would appear. He had to chuckle that Dudley's old voluminous, huge-waisted jeans that he had to wear cinched tightly with a belt were actually considered 'cool' by one or two of the young people who passed by while he was working. However, he refused to wear them low to show the tops of his boxers, as one fashion-conscious teenaged girl insisted.

He was once again mowing the front yard of the Geddes's place when he heard a voice call out to him.

"Hi, there," a voice sounded. "Are you Harry?"

Harry paused and looked up. A skinny girl with braces on her teeth and light brown hair was smiling at him. Next to her was a plump girl with short, curly dark brown hair with golden streaks who was looking at him with speculative eyes. Both were wearing tank tops and jean shorts, the plump girl's shorts riding up a little higher.

Harry switched the mower into idle and ran his hand through his hair, brushing away some of the sweat. He nodded. "I'm Harry," he said with a shy smile.

"I'm Patty. Patty Rourke. And this it Beth Simon."

"Hi, Harry," Beth said.

Harry smiled a little more warmly. "Hi, Patty, Beth." Both girls seemed to be about his age. Neither were particularly pretty and Patty seemed to show signs of a little acne. But they both seemed pleasant and friendly.

"I...uhh...Sara told us about you," Patty said, suddenly blushing. "Uhhh, well, she told Beth's sister anyway. I mean, she said you might be here today and, well, we thought we'd stop by to say hi."

Beth suddenly nudged Patty. "Oh, and, well...we were wondering if you were going to the dance tomorrow?"

Harry smiled and tilted his head. "Sure."

"Cool!" she said, showing a metallic smile.

Harry pulled the towel from the loop in his belt and toweled off some of the sweat from this face and hair. "I've never been to a regular dance before. I went to a formal last Christmas, but not a regular dance. What do you wear?"

Patty's eyes went wide. "Whatever," she said. "Like jeans and a shirt or something. You know, whatever."

"Sneakers are okay," Beth spoke up, blushing. "Or whatever."

"Okay," Harry said with a wry smile, chuckling inwardly.

"Okay," Patty said. "Ummm, we've gotta go. See you there."

Harry smiled again at both of them. "Nice meeting you both, Patty. Beth." Harry put the mower in gear as the two girls, giggling, waved and walked off.

* * *

The last job of the day was done. And it was the easiest. Just weeding and trimming Mrs. Schaeffer's vegetable garden. She'd had a mild stroke and Harry, at Tony's suggestion, volunteered to help her keep up her garden. He refused any payment, but was grateful for a small bag of ripe tomatoes. He had gushed over the quality and taste as he patiently listened to Mrs. Schaeffer haltingly talk about how her own mother had gotten her started vegetable gardening during the war when she was young and how she had grown to love it.

So Harry was enjoying another of Mrs. Schaeffer's tomatoes on his walk home when he stopped abruptly and looked to his right. A man working on the roof had just slipped on a loose slate shingle. Harry dropped the bag of tomatoes on the sidewalk and...reached and grabbed the man by the collar, flattening out and lying on his stomach, spread-eagle to keep from slipping on the shingles or letting the man pull him off if he went over the side.

The man scrabbled to find purchase as one foot dangled over the two story drop. The man managed to angle his body so as to lift his dangling leg into the gutter. He managed to find his footing and slowly turned over onto his back, breathing heavily.

"Thanks, mate," he said catching his breath as the adrenaline rush passed and he was able to relax. "Another second or two and I'd have been over." He closed his eyes and took a few more deep breaths. "Not to worry, though. The ground would have broken my fall," he said chuckling a little on the loud side.

Harry slowly let go of the man and raised himself into a kneeling position. He looked around in confusion. 'How had he gotten up here?' he thought "Ummm...are you all right?" he said a little breathlessly.

The man turned with a smile. "Right as rain, thanks to you. Could have broken my neck. More likely an ankle or arm, but you never know." Suddenly, his smile faded. "Where the bloody hell did you come from?"

Harry stuttered while he tried to come up with an explanation not just for the man but for himself. "I...uhhh...was passing by and...well...I like to help out in the neighborhood, so I climbed the ladder to see if I could help...and when I saw you slip I jumped to grab you."

The man gave Harry a dubious look. "Well, sure as hell a good thing you were here. Falling off a roof is a damned stupid thing for a man to do, especially when he's on the dole and working off the books. Bound to be some questions asked. Freddie Shipman," he said, holding out his hand.

"Harry Potter," Harry replied, shaking Freddie's hand. "I live at the vicarage here in Little Whinging."

Freddie laughed. "Well, I'm between jobs, between homes, and between women. Tis a bad place for a man to be, let me tell you."

Harry's eyes widened. "You're homeless?"

Freddie shrugged. "Naw. Staying with a mate a couple towns over. Don't want to wear out my welcome, so I gotta work to help him pay expenses. It ain't fun, but it sure beats living on the streets."

Harry and 'Freddie the Freeloader,' as his new friend called himself, chatted long into the afternoon, mostly about Freddie's vagabond ways. It slowly dawned on Harry how tough and dangerous it would be if he ever was forced to live on his own in the Muggle world. Freddie showed him scars from brawls and muggings when he had been homeless.

Harry shook his head. He vowed he would try never to be put into that position. But he was determined that, if Dumbledore or anyone else tried to force him to return to the Dursleys, he would run instead. He knew that a lot of people had his best interests in mind. But best interests didn't cut it any more. He would listen, but he would no longer give anyone total trust. He would decide his fate, not others, even Dumbledore.

* * *

A flash warning went off in the ministry office for unauthorized magic. The wizard on duty immediately took note of the warning flash. "Little Whinging?" He noted the flash and checked the board. It read: 'Little Whinging--Alert priority. Notify C. Thomas, Senior Auror. Backup: A. Weasley, Ministry.' The wizard scratched his head. He knew Cy Thomas was out of the office. So he figured that this Weasley character would take care of it. He flicked his wand at the floo-o-fone and the box on his desk flashed a bright green flame. "Weasley," he called into the box.

The duty wizard's non-specific floo call went out to both Arthur and Percy. Arthur Weasley was on his way back to his office after a meeting with his minister, so he wasn't there to take the call. But Percy, ever dutiful, was at his desk and answered.

"Weasley. We just got a flash message of unauthorized use of magic in Little Whinging. The primary alert contact is out of the office and you are listed as secondary. You are hereby instructed..." the duty wizard thumbed through a file "...by order 95-AUR-0264, dated 16 May 1995 to report immediately to Little Whinging, Surrey, to investigate and take such action as you deem appropriate. The spell for back up, in case any is needed, is Equitatus. Got that, Weasley?"

Percy blinked in confusion. "What?"

The desk wizard made a face. "Look, Weasley. Somebody's been apparating in a restricted zone in Little Whinging. There's a priority tag on this sector. That means someone has to investigate in person. Immediately. No owls. No floo. In person. And since the primary contact is out of the office, and you are listed as secondary contact, the job goes to you. Report to Subbasement Two, room S-205 and they'll give you the nearest appropriate floo station that you can use to get there. Now go."

"Wait!!!" Percy cried.

The desk wizard sighed. "The emergency reinforcement spell is Equitatus. The room in Subbasement Two is S-205. Okay?" And the desk wizard's image disappeared from Percy's floo-o-fone.

Percy slammed his quill back in its holder. "Why me?" he said as he rose and left his office for the apparating port down the hall.

* * *

The nearest floo station to Little Whining was behind a fire station the next town over. An auror on duty looked up as Percy appeared in the fireplace. "What in hell?"

Percy stood there in his formal office robes. "Don't ask," he muttered.

The auror hid a chuckle. "And how can I help the ministry today?"

Percy shook his head. "I need some Muggle transportation.

The auror looked at his in-box. Sure enough, an authorization for Muggle transport for ministry business had just appeared. The auror nodded. "Need a car?"

Percy opened his mouth and then shut it quickly with a snap. He looked down. "I've ridden in Muggle vehicles a couple times but I don't know how to drive."

The auror snorted in mirth. "Mo-ped?"

Percy looked embarrassed. "I don't know what that is."

The auror ran his hand over his face to hide his amusement. "Well, that leaves you with a bicycle, a pogo stick or the old shoe-leather express."

Percy's face brightened. "Shoe-leather express sounds good. When does it arrive?"

The auror buried his face in his arms on his desk, heaving with laughter. When he regained his composure, he looked up with tears in his eyes. "Shoe-leather express is a Muggle term. It means you walk."

Percy's face flushed. "Uhhhh...uhhhh, I've ridden bicycles before. I guess I'll take the bicycle."

The auror flicked his wand and a small wire cage opened and an old, woman's bicycle rolled out. "She's all yours," he said, gritting his teeth to keep from exploding in laughter. After a couple deep breaths, he calmed himself enough for a piece of advice. "Lose the robes. Muggles might think you're around the bend."

Percy looked down and realized that the auror was correct. As he walked the bicycle out of the auror station, he thought carefully. He was a representative of the ministry. And he recalled seeing pictures of ministry officials in his father's Muggle magazine archive. He waved his wand and was off.

* * *

Harry had talked for a long time with Freddie the Freeloader, helping where he could. But Freddie had to run out early, so Harry found himself walking back to the vicarage when he stopped in amazement. There, awkwardly navigating the road in a broken down girl's bicycle, dressed in a morning coat, striped pants, patent leather shoes with spats, a brocade vest, wing collar with ascot, and a dove gray top hat, was the assistant deputy minister for international commerce: Percy Weasley.

Harry closed his eyes and screwed up his face for fear he would explode in laughter. When he opened his eyes again, he beheld the same sight, only closer. Percy was laboring mightily and began to wave his hand in recognition. "Harry! Harry! I should have known it was you!"

Harry walked over to lean against a tree to keep from collapsing. "Percy?" he gasped out.

Percy finally pulled up alongside Harry. "Harry. We got a flash message that there was an incident of unauthorized apparating here. I presume it was you."

Harry blinked and nodded in acknowledgement. "I...[cough]...apparated." He took a deep breath and finally was able to control himself. "I didn't mean to," he said taking another deep breath. "A man was falling off a roof and I had to help him. And it just happened."

Percy nodded solemnly. "I see. I understand that these things happen. I shall have to write a report, of course, but I shall make the appropriate recommendations. Is there somewhere where we might go where I can get all the details."

Harry smiled. "You can come with me to the vicarage. I'm sure that Tony and Mae would love to have you. We'll set another place for supper."

Percy looked appalled. "With Muggles? But...I don't know...I'm not familiar with Muggle customs. Won't they...suspect something?"

Harry gave Percy a broad smile. "Percy. They know about me...about us, our world. I live with them"

Percy linked several times. "But you...oh, Merlin. You're in hiding."

Harry suddenly blanched. "Percy. How did you know to come here after me? No one is supposed to know I'm still here."

Percy looked at him with a puzzled expression. "I don't know. I was contacted by someone in the misuse of magic office. They said that the auror who was supposed to come here in case of an incident was away from his desk and I was the secondary contact."

Harry ran his hand through his messy, and now sweaty, hair. "Percy. Don't tell anyone I'm here. No one is supposed to know. Just Cyrus Jordan and Professor Dumbledore."

Percy looked carefully at Harry. "But the report..."

Harry began to look worried. "You better not...best to talk with Cyrus Jordan. He's...like...in charge of me, I guess. He's a senior auror. That should satisfy the reporting requirements."

Percy frowned and looked down, nodding. "Good enough. Irregular, but these are irregular times."

Harry sighed. 'Some security,' he thought. Then he looked up at Percy again. "Nice outfit."

Percy looked up with a start. "Oh, this? It's what the Muggle ministry official wear, isn't it?"

Harry smiled. "Best you come to supper at the vicarage. Reverend Strowbridge is more familiar with Muggle ministry officials than I."

* * *

Dear Mister Potter,

It gives me great pleasure to inform you that you have been selected as prefect of fifth year boys in Gryffindor. You have shown leadership and courage during your first four years at Hogwarts, and the staff believes this honor is well deserved.

We wish to emphasize that with such recognition comes great responsibility. Your position requires more than just the necessity that school rules be enforced. It calls on you to be a mentor and guide to the younger people in your house.

We are aware that fifth year prefects, by longstanding custom, take a special interest in the adjustment and deportment of the new first year students in your house. We are confident that you, and the newly appointed fifth year girls' prefect, Miss Hermione Granger, will see to their well-being.

I have enclosed with this owl a booklet on the major duties and responsibilities of a house prefect as well as a copy of the school rules and bylaws concerning student conduct. We expect you to read these materials carefully during the summer.

However, let me emphasize again that being a prefect is not just enforcing rules, but being a big brother or big sister to those younger students in your charge.

Please stop by the first carriage on the Hogwarts Express on 1 September for a brief prefects' orientation meeting. Afterwards, you would be well advised to stay in the first carriage to get to know your fellow prefects from the other houses.

Sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

P/S We have arranged for your fifth-year texts to be owled to at your new address to ensure you have them available for review during the summer. Further, we have arranged transport to Diagon Alley to collect your supplies and further transport for you and the Weasley children to the Hogwarts Express so there is no repeat of the unpleasantness that preceded your second year at Hogwarts. These are perilous times, and such untoward behavior would not only be inappropriate, but potentially dangerous.

* * *

The parish hall was not very big, Harry thought. Not quite the Great Hall at Hogwarts. He arrived early to help set up the chairs and tables along the side of the hall and to carry out the coolers for the sale of soft drinks and snacks. It all left a reasonable amount of space for maybe 50 dancers. The stag lines could stand in the back and on the left side of the hall.

"Harry, you're here."

He turned around to see Sara and two other girls about Sara's age enter. Sara and one girl, a tall, stocky blond with streaks of purple and a pleasant face, were carrying a cooler. The third girl, a petite brunette with what seemed to be a permanent pout, was manhandling a large cardboard box filled with various snacks. Harry rushed over to help. "You're here early," he said as he took the box from the brunette girl.

Sara smiled. "Some of us older girls like to help out before and after the dances. My mum's on the parish council and Nedra's dad is, too," she said motioning to the brunette. Turning to the girl, she introduced her friends. "Nedra Collins. Deirdre Simon. This is Harry Potter. He's the boy I was telling you about."

Deirdre held out her hand to shake. Nedra simply stared.

Harry smiled at the three. Nedra continued to stare, causing Harry to shift a little uncomfortably. Deirdre nudged Nedra, who returned to setting up the refreshments table. "Don't mind Neddie," Sara whispered. "She's desperate to appear cool, but she's the most sheltered girl I know. She really is sweet."

Harry smiled. Neddie's reaction to his was puzzling. Almost like Ginny Weasley's. But he couldn't figure out why. He shrugged to himself and turned back to Sara. "Anything I can do to help?"

Sara smiled. "As a matter of fact, there is."

Harry looked at her expectantly.

Sara chuckled. "You can enjoy yourself. And dance. There should be a few girls your age here and I just hate to see how they have to sit around while the boys their age just hang out on the other side of the hall, talking football and casting suspicious glances across the way."

Harry blushed and gave a small smile. "I don't really know how to dance," he said with embarrassment.

Sara rolled her eyes. "Look, just move with the beat on the fast songs and grab the girl and sway with the beat on the slow songs. Okay? You told me you were some sort of champion athlete, right? That shouldn't be too hard."

Harry shrunk in embarrassment.

Sara smiled indulgently. "Look, you can really do us a favor by dancing with Deirdre's sister Beth. She and her girlfriend Patty have been chattering away about you all day, according to Deirdre. They'd love for a nice boy to pay them a little attention."

Harry nodded with a smile. "I met them yesterday while I was mowing your front lawn. They seemed nice. Beth seemed real quiet."

Sara nodded knowingly. "Harry, I know you don't know anyone here...except maybe Beth and Patty and me. But remember, the girls, and the boys for that matter, are just like you. They want you to like them as much as you want them to like you."

* * *

Harry was sitting at one of the tables on the right when he heard his name.

"Harry, you're here," Patty squealed as she ran up to the table, with Beth at her heels. Her eyes were glittering in excitement and Beth was flushed as she looked at him with wide eyes. "Can we sit down."

Harry nodded, a broad smile of relief that at least he knew someone at the dance, albeit just in passing.

Moments later, they were joined by a couple about the same age. "Harry!" Patty announced enthusiastically. "This is Jim Jamison and Pam DeMarco."

Harry looked across the table at a gangly boy with a buzz cut on the sides of his head leading up to a bushy mop on top. Pam, on the other hand, was a pretty young brunette wearing narrow-lensed tortoise-shell glasses.

"Hi. I'm Harry Potter," he said, reaching out to shake Jim's hand as he sat down. Jim looked momentarily nonplussed, then reached out and shook Harry's hand. Harry then nodded to Pam with a smile and received a pleasant smile in return.

"We heard all about you," Jim said casually. "You lived with those people who got sent to jail for trying to kill you."

Harry blinked at the nonchalant bluntness of the statement. "Yeah. But I'm not going back there ever again."

Jim snorted. "Now they got you stuck with the vicar. Talk about bugger-all."

Harry's face clouded and he glared intensely at the boy, who suddenly seemed to shrink. "The Strowbridges are good people. And I won't hear a word against them," he said in a menacing growl.

He noticed Pam shrinking back almost as much as Jim.

"Hey, sorry, right?" Jim said defensively.

Harry let his gaze soften, but felt he now should be on his guard. "Right," he nodded.

Patty looked at Harry closely. "You lived with that Dursley boy, right? Did you hang out with him and his friends?"

Harry turned and shook his head. "No. Never."

There seemed to be a little easing of the tension at the table.

"Where do you go to school? Not at the comprehensive around here?" Pam asked.

Harry shook his head. "No. A public school up in Scotland."

"Not Smeltings like your cousin? Jim goes there," she continued.

Harry shook his head. "What's it like at Smeltings?" he asked to divert the conversation away from Hogwarts.

Jim snorted again. "Boot lickers, nose pickers and arse kickers."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Sounds charming."

Jim frowned. "Your cousin was in one of the boot kicker gangs. Bugger. Maybe he won't he back with his folks in jail and all," he said with a scowl.

Harry shrugged. "And what about you ladies? Where do you all go?"

"The local comprehensive," Patty said in a bubbly voice. "We're all going into fifth form this year. I hear the GCSEs are nasty business. But I want to stay on. I love school."

Harry peered around her to Beth. "You, too, Beth?"

Beth smiled. "I hope to," she said shyly.

"Oh, you will," Patty said with a grin. "She's the swot of this crew."

Harry chuckled. "Can't be as bad as...this girl at school."

Patty leaned forward. "Your girlfriend?" she said anxiously.

Harry shrugged. "Sort of..."

Beth frowned.

"But not definitely?" Patty asked urgently.

Harry shook his head and the girls relaxed a little.

Harry turned and looked speculatively at Jim and Pam. "You going on?"

"Yeah. GCSEs, A-levels, Uni, the whole lot of it. Then off to the family business," Jim said.

Pam nodded in agreement. "Me, too."

Suddenly, a young man on the stage announced that it was time to dance and put the first record on.

* * *

Harry actually found he was enjoying himself. He realized that, while he felt awkward trying to dance, the girls at his table were just as awkward. Patty was enthusiastic in her gyrations, but couldn't keep the beat to save her life. Beth simply swayed and watched Harry. And Pam, who he found was not Jim's official girlfriend, seemed to be a decent, if reserved, dancer.

Then the announcer put on a slow record with a 3/3 beat. Harry looked around the table with a speculative grin. Mae had tried to teach him to waltz, and Harry was determined to see if he could actually dance a set series of steps. "Can anyone waltz?" he said uncertainly.

Pam looked up at him with a puzzled expression. "I can," she said to disappointed looks from Patty and Beth.

Harry blushed a little but smiled. "Well, it's the only regular dance I can do. Want to try?"

Pam gave him a speculative look. "Okay, I guess."

Harry brought her out to the dance floor and after some awkwardness, the couple actually started to move with the song.

Suddenly, Pam leaned forward. "Harry. You're supposed to look at the girl when you waltz, not down at your feet."

Harry looked up and blushed. "Well, if I look up I'll get distracted and lose the beat," he said in embarrassment.

Pam, completely misinterpreting his comment, flushed with pleasure. She had never thought of herself as pretty, but this nice looking boy had just seemingly confessed that she was pretty enough to distract him. Unaware that Harry was just commenting on his dancing skills, she gave him her best smile and leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. He wasn't entirely sure what brought that on, but he liked it.

The next dance was slow as well, and he asked Beth. Harry became a little uncomfortable when she threw her arms around his neck and pressed against him, but found he rather enjoyed the softness and warmth of the slightly overweight girl.

Later, Harry got up to buy the table soft drinks. But before he got there, Sara appeared out of nowhere and pulled him aside. "Harry," she said with a smile. "What are you doing to those poor girls? The three at your table can't take their eyes off of you and several others at the surrounding tables have been watching you all night."

Harry blinked. "What are you talking about?" he said in confusion.

Sara chuckled. "Are you sure you're the same boy who mows our lawn. You're turning into a real heartbreaker."

"I...what?" he said in wide-eyed puzzlement.

Sara rolled her eyes. "You don't know, do you?"

Harry shrugged, blushing furiously.

Sara chuckled. "Well, don't let Mrs. Strowbridge catch you dancing as close as you did with Beth. And I didn't know you could dance the way you did with little Pammy DeMarco," she said, her voice suddenly taking on a more serious tone. "I hope you're not teasing them. Girls that age are very fragile. Especially the ones who aren't so pretty, like Patty and Beth. Just be nice to them, okay?"

Harry was distinctly uncomfortable as he returned to the table with his soft drinks. The girls had left for the moment to go to the ladies' room and Jim was sitting there looking sour.

Harry sat down and turned to the boy. "What's wrong, Jim? Why aren't you dancing."

"Dancing isn't cool," he said in a sulk.

Harry shrugged. "But the girls like it. And who says it's not cool? I'd rather have fun than try to act cool."

Jim pouted. "It's easy for you. You know how to dance. And you know what to say to them."

Harry blinked. "What? I was nervous as anything. But this is a dance. So I'm dancing. It's not so bad. And I just go out there to move to the beat. What's so hard about that?"

Jim shrugged.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, you can't be any worse than most of the other guys here. It's not so hard. And it's fun."

At this point the girls returned and Jim eventually asked Pam, then Patty to dance.

By the time the dance ended, Harry was leaning back in his chair, thoroughly enjoying himself for the first time in a long time.

As they left the hall, Patty grabbed one arm and Beth the other. "I had a wonderful time, Harry," Patty gushed. Beth gave Harry's arm a tentative squeeze as if in agreement. "We've got to wait for Beth's sister, who is driving us home."

Harry smiled at the two, and then Jim and Pam. "I'll wait with you. I just have a short walk to the vicarage."

The five chatted amiably, when Harry heard a familiar voice.

"Old Man Dursley should've finished the job on you, Potter," the voice growled.

Harry turned to see the weasel-like face of the nastiest of Dudley Dursley's gang, Piers Polkiss, who was flanked by the rest of Harry's tormenters from his old primary school, Dennis Doppler, Malcolm Biggle and Gordon Gale. He instinctively stepped between his new friends and his old enemies.

He could sense the anxiety of Jim and the girls. He narrowed his eyes as he glared at the ugly group.

"Is it any surprise that he ended up with Fatty, Four-Eyes and Metal Mouth along with little wanker Jimmie Jamison," Polkiss said, menacingly.

Harry's felt the fury rise. "You have a problem with me, take it up with me. But leave my friends alone."

"Ooooo, aren't we touchy," Polkiss sneered. "You planning to shag one of them, or do they need to show you how?"

"If he shags any of them, my money's on Jimmie," Gordon grunted.

Harry suddenly took a couple steps toward the group. "I said, leave my friends alone," Harry said in a cold rage, now within arm's reach of Polkiss.

The four bullies suddenly felt a wave of cold race up their spines. They didn't know what it was, but it felt like being bathed in wave after wave of ice water. And it was coming from Harry. They slowly began to back away. Harry continued to advance on them and looks of panic began to show on Dennis and Malcolm's faces.

"Uhhh, let's get out of here," Gordon said, quietly.

"Uhhh, yeah," Dennis said with a catch in his voice. "Come on, Piers."

But Polkiss was now shivering and staring in fear at Harry, who was practically nose-to-nose with the pimply boy.

"I think you owe my friends an apology," he said coldly.

"Whaaa...what are you doing?" Polkiss stammered.

"My friends are waiting," Harry said, his fury now at a peak.

"Sorry!" Gordon shouted and turned to walk away.

"Yeah," Dennis exclaimed in full-blown panic mode.

Piers continued to stare into Harry's eyes. "It don't...don't mean nothing..." he stammered. He wheeled and began to run, colliding with Malcolm and falling into a cursing heap. The two scrambled to their feet and stumbled away.

Harry turned to face his friends, his green eyes seeming to lighten under the street lamps.

They were staring, open-mouthed at Harry. "How....how did you do that?" Jim stammered.

Harry blinked. "No more," he said flatly. "I'm not going to put up with bullies any more. No more..." he said as he regained his composure.

"Wow," Patty exclaimed, her shocked face suddenly lightening up into a smile. "That was soooo cooool!"

Harry finally smiled and gave a vague shrug. "They're cowards at heart," he said mildly. "Don't pay them any mind and don't let them scare you and they'll slink away."

Suddenly, a tearful Beth walked up to Harry and gave him a hug. "I think you're wonderful," she whispered.

'No,' he thought. 'I'm just Harry.'

* * *

Dear Harry,

Sorry for being such a git and not writing.

I told Ginny about your letter and we had a long talk. Or let's just say she screamed at me for about an hour. I guess I haven't been much of a friend.

See, I kind of like Hermione, too. Well, what I'll really like is a girlfriend and Hermione's nice and pretty and I really like her a lot. And it would be nice to have her as a girlfriend, I guess. But if she was your girlfriend, I guess that's okay. But I'd like a girlfriend. You know, someone who'd just like me and me only. You know? A girl of my own.

I guess that doesn't make much sense. Maybe when we see you back in Hogwarts, I can explain it better.

Oh, and I heard from Hermione. She's in America all summer with her parents. Some sort of lecture tour. At least it isn't Bulgaria, if you know what I mean.

By the way, are there any other girls you think might like to go out with me? I heard Lavender broke up with her boyfriend, some dumb sixth year from Hufflepuff. And Parvati isn't seeing anyone, unless she's found someone during the summer. They're both pretty. Parvati probably hates both of us after the Yule Ball, but maybe Lavender will still be available.

What's up with the Dursleys? I thought you were going to be with them all summer. Now you're someplace else all secret like? Did something happen with them? Or did You-Know-Who find out about them? It sounds pretty scary. I hope you're okay.

I got word from my dad that you won't be able to visit during the summer. Ginny is in a funk, but who cares. I also heard that they're sending aurors to pick us up at the end of summer. You, too. Sounds a bit dicey, if you ask me.

Hey, the Chudley Cannons have won two games in a row! That's the first time they've done that in eight years. Wow! I smell championship!

It's pretty dull around here except for fooling around with Fred and George. They came up with some money from some sucker and are busy planning to open a store after they graduate. By the way, don't ever try their "Chunky Choco Cubes" unless you want to be as wide and you are tall. Believe me, I know. Otherwise, I'm practicing my broomwork. Do you think there's any chance for me to make the team this year?

Percy was over the other day. He's getting weirder by the minute. When your name came up, he got the weirdest look on his face and started telling jokes about Muggle expressions, like 'shoe-leather express.' I don't know what he was talking about, but he and dad all of a sudden got into this big discussion about Muggle clothes and kitchen tools. Percy's getting as bad as dad.

Okay, I'll try to owl you more often. Sorry for being such a prat. Now maybe Ginny will stop yelling at me.

Your best mate,

Ron