Love On Risky Ground

Love On Risky Ground.

Chapter 16

Home With Sirius.

Sirius helped Harry towards his new home. Harry had been finally allowed to go home from the St Mungo's hospital, after pleading with the Healers to let him go. He felt much better, but Harry was not one hundred percent recovered from his injuries and it would take awhile for him to heal completely.

He suddenly had the feeling that he would be seeing a lot of Madam Pomfrey, come the start of term at Hogwarts. He'd be beginning his sixth year in a week and Sirius had been telling him that sixth year was the best year for him. Harry wondered why and was a little apprehensive about the Marauders' pasts, having learnt more about it many months before. However, Sirius stopped before he could go on to talking about the deceased Potions Master. Harry didn't fully understand why; maybe it was the fact that an enemy of his had finally passed away ... and it left a sort of strange emptiness or disbelief within him.

While Sirius gripped Harry's arm carefully and closed the gate of his property, Harry looked up at the house. He smiled warmly. The house was very old, but at the same time very inviting and comforting. It was three stories high and a clinging vine covered half of the front wall, colouring the home a magnificent green.

Sirius stepped onto the porch, his face full of anticipation as he pulled out his keys and started looking for the right one. He gazed at Harry, his eyes displaying an almost paternal warmth. His dream -- their dream -- had come true.

Standing on the porch, about to set foot into his new home, Harry felt immensely happy and joyful. He felt as though he was going to start a new life. A life without the Dursleys' abuse, hatred and fear. And he knew that Sirius was at last feeling as though he had honoured his parents' wishes to look after their child.

"Well, I hope you like it," Sirius grinned.

Harry nodded, glowing with ecstasy. He didn't much mind about the house; he couldn't care less if they were living on the street in a cardboard box. As long as he was with Sirius, he felt on top of the world.

Sirius was about to open the door when a blinding pink light flashed out of the windows. Harry blinked in stupefaction, wondering if he had imagined seeing it, because Sirius didn't think otherwise of it ... he wasn't in the slightest perturbed.

"Er, Sirius -" Harry managed to say before a second flash occurred once again. This time it was a violent blue that filled his vision.

Sirius clicked the door open, finally able to find the right key. He was still adapting to the new surroundings and perhaps to the notion of freedom. He would sometimes change into a dog when he was about to go out, but he then would realise that he didn't need to anymore and a smile would creep up the corners of his mouth.

He raised his eyebrows at Harry.

"What was that?" Harry questioned as an orange light filtered through.

"That, Harry, is our house-elf, Epona - doing something which we are about to find out." Sirius pushed the door open and Harry went through first.

He marvelled at the view. The inside was spectacular, done up in Victorian style refurbishment's. The walls were a dark red, but it was a huge house and ornate plaster works decorated the ceiling. Harry noticed the fresh smell of new paint and he guessed that Sirius had finished redecorating not so long ago.

They abruptly saw Epona streak across the hall into another room, delivering another blast of light, this time a fiery red. Harry saw silver sparks radiate into the hallway as well. Sirius had a confused look on his face and shook his head. He laughed, but he had to stop because of the pain.

"Epona," Sirius called, pulling Harry's cloak off and hanging it along with his own. "What are you doing?" Sirius walked into the room. Harry followed behind and looked at every single detail of the hall, from the detailed Persian carpet to the waving paintings and photographs on the walls - one he recognised as Phineas Nigellus's portrait grinning at him.

Harry stared at the raging fire in the living room that Sirius had led him into. Epona was nowhere in sight. Sirius scratched his head, waiting for the house-elf to reply. They both immediately saw a pair of wide blue eyes.

Epona was bashfully peeking from behind the couch, her large ears flapped down in a sign of shame.

"Ma-master Black ... Master Potter," she squeaked, "there were Aswinders sir - spawned from the fire. But I've destroyed them and I've searched for eggs, sir. They never had time to produce any, sir," she finally explained. Her eyes were trained on the ground, as if she had done something wrong.

"Well that's good work, Epona. Why act so gloomy?" Sirius asked, following a trail of ash on the floor with his eyes. Harry sat down on an armchair, too tired to stand any longer, and watched the conversation unfold.

The house-elf paused, with a miserable expression on her face. She was a young house-elf, still learning. Epona sniffled, avoiding both her Masters' eyes. "I left the fire unchecked, sir ... I deserve punishment."

Sirius snorted, "Is that all? It was an accident, Epona. Don't worry about it. The house hasn't burnt down, has it?" Sirius chortled. Epona shook her head. "Actually it's more likely to be destroyed by me than by anyone else," Sirius laughed.

Epona was shocked and had the most horrified look on her face, but she knew he was joking. Harry could see her relax.

He had to hold back a laugh, in fear of the pain. He just admired his godfather's coolness. Other wizards would have punished their house-elves had they done what Epona had. And if Kreacher were there, he would've been punished. Harry suddenly realised something about Kreacher! Where was he? Harry was about to ask Sirius when Epona spoke, making him forget about him.

"I'll be more careful, sir, next time."

"Good! You learn from your mistakes and move on," Sirius replied, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry wished he could learn from his mistakes.

Epona ran up to Harry and shook his hand. "Nice to have you home finally, Master Potter," she said with sympathetic eyes. She looked like she was about to cry. Harry was about to say something to calm her down when she wailed in a loud cry, tears gushing from her eyes. "I was so feared for you, Master Potter. Master Black was so sad."

"Epona - I'm fine," Harry tried to say over her sobs. "Please don't cry."

But Epona cried harder. "Master Potter is so kind to a lowly servant like me. Bless him!"

Sirius breathed deeply with pride. He took out a handkerchief and held it out to Epona. "Th-thank you, sir, but- but it's clothes remember? You'll put me out of a job, sir," she said before blowing her nose on the floral pillowcase she wore.

"Oh, I forgot," Sirius replied, pocketing his handkerchief again with a rise of his eyebrows.

The house-elf wiped her tears away, and stared at Harry. "I go now and attend to dinner. Master Black wants me to cook you all of your favourite foods tonight." She bowed to Sirius and Harry and left the room.

A silence cloaked the room; the green fire's crackles were the only thing that disturbed the peacefulness. "Well ... that was Epona," Sirius said at last. "A little inexperienced maybe, but I'd rather have her here, than let her be shipped off to the Malfoy manor."

Harry's stomach plummeted at the thought of Lucius Malfoy. Flashes of the day at the cottage streaked into his mind and he felt a little sick. He shook his head in disgust. "It was a good thing you did! Has Malfoy been arrested?"

"No! He's in hiding, just like the rest of those bastards."

Harry closed his eyes in anger.

"Well," Sirius said, marvelling the sight of his new living room with wide eyes. He clapped his hands together, catching Harry's attention. "I'll show you around the house and your bedroom."

Harry beamed brightly when Sirius opened his bedroom door and ushered him in. "This is your room," he replied, hoping Harry would like it.

Harry walked around, looking at everything his sight could capture. It was spacious, comfortable and a lot larger than his old small bedroom at Privet Drive. The room was a shade of light grey, but dark red drapes hung over the four-poster, with matching curtains and accessories around. He spotted an armchair at the far end, nestled near a fireplace. On it lay his robes and new clothes for the new school year. Harry was relieved when he spotted his school trunk at the end of the bed. On top of it were his school letter and OWL results.

But what really completed Harry's bedroom were the framed, moving photos of his parents that lined the walls. Harry gasped, and with a huge grin, strode to one of the photographs (all of which he had never seen before). He shook his head, too happy to express anything in words, tears of joy welling in his eyes.

It was a picture of his mother and father during their young years at Hogwarts. Lily was blowing kisses to the camera, her eyes a bright green, pretending to be a super model as James stood laughing next to her. He then leaned over and quickly kissed her, surprising her, which made her double up in a fit of giggles.

"So ... do you like your room?" Sirius asked, "I wasn't sure what col-"

Harry spun around quickly which nearly made him dizzy. "Sirius, it's brilliant! Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me," he said, his voice shaking slightly. He had experienced the worst summer he had ever had - one horror after another and his relationship with Ron in ruins. When he thought things could get better, they turned for the worst. It was like a horrible day, where many things went wrong, only it was extended to two months.

However, some good things had spawned from the dark events, the traumatic deaths, the torture and the betrayal. Sirius was finally proven innocent and Harry was no longer living with the Dursleys. But the thought of Ron took control of his mind and he was again wondering, desperate for his and Hermione's forgiveness. Harry was longing to be Ron's best mate again.

"Anyway, Harry ..."

Harry looked up. "Yeah?"

"I need to get your books, so ..." Sirius pointed towards the OWL results.

"Oh." He gulped, feeling nervous. "Yeah, I forgot."

"Good luck ... well it's a bit late for it but good luck, anyway."

Harry rolled his eyes and ripped the letter open, hoping that he had passed Potions and his other subjects so he could become an Auror. He took a deep breath and read the results.

Dear Mr Potter,

Congratulations on passing your fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed with this letter are the results of the OWL exams.

Marks have been added up and a percentage derived with Assessment results from the school year and final OWL exam results.

Any changes of final results have been carried out by a review board consisting of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and the Exam Officials.

Good Luck and hopefully you have achieved the results you yearned for.

Harry looked through his envelope and pulled out a second piece of Parchment.

Ordinary Wizarding Level Exam Results.

Compulsory School Subjects:

Astronomy

Professor A. Sinistra:

(Results reviewed)

A / Fail

Charms

Professor F. Flitwick:

E / Pass

Defence Against the Dark Arts

Professor D. Umbridge

(Results reviewed)

Exam: O / Pass

Herbology

Professor Sprout

E / Pass

History of Magic

Professor Binns

(Results reviewed)

A / Pass.

Potions

Professor S. Snape

(Results reviewed)

O / Pass

Tranfiguration

Professor M. McGonagall

E / Pass

Subject Electives:

Care of Magical Creatures

Professor W. Grubbly-Plank/ R. Hagrid

O / Pass

Divination

Professor S.P. Trelawney/ Firenze

D

/ Fail

You have passed seven out of nine subjects.

Out of twelve OWLs your results tally up to SIX OWLs.

Your Book list for your seven passing subjects are enclosed.

Sirius had peeked over Harry's shoulders to see the results. "Good work, Harry. I see that Dumbledore probably put in a good word about your marks for Potions and ah ... I'm glad they changed your Defence result."

Harry smiled back. He was happy with his marks. He had passed Potions and was now on the road to becoming an Auror. "Thanks, Sirius."

***

Harry yawned and finished buttoning his shirt by the window. Bright sunshine warmed his spirits as it drifted in. The window had framed the wonderful view of green hills, thickly covered with flowering buds of blues, whites and reds. It was a scene worthy of a painting by an Art Master. He breathed in deeply and shut his eyes, relaxing to the sounds of hooting owls and birds outside in the trees. But a light knock on the door heralded his abrupt return to reality.

Harry turned around, seeing Epona tap her fingers together. "Master Potter, Miss Hermione Granger visits, sir."

Harry raised his eyebrows, very surprised to see Hermione before going on the Hogwarts Express. He supposed she was free to see him now that he was away from the Dursleys. "Where is she?" he asked breathlessly.

"Downstairs, sir. In the living room, sir." Epona squeaked, pulling out a fresh pair of pyjamas from Harry's wardrobe and placing it on the armchair for the next night.

Harry stared at his skinny and short reflection in the mirror. He looked a little paler than usual, almost ghostly in appearance. Then again, he had been in bed for the last week. He flattened his hair, feeling the urgent need to ... as if Hermione would care, and ran down the stairs, impatient to meet her. Harry felt as though he was floating into the living room as his fingers prised the grooves of the doorway. He beamed at the back of Hermione's head, glad to see a friend ... a friend he was trying hard to bury his emotions of love once more. But he did notice something different about her - her hair wasn't bushy.

Hermione was talking to Sirius as he showed her around. She held a basket, and Harry saw Crookshanks and Persia on the floor, their tails swinging.

Sirius caught a glimpse of his godson, and drew her attention to him. "Ahh, here he is. I'll just leave you two - to talk about whatever adolescents talk about ... It's been a while since I was one, so I doubt my ravings would be popular," he said, leaving the room.

"Oh, don't say that, Sirius. You have interesting, but dangerous stories," Hermione said loudly. Harry nodded.

They could hear Sirius laughing outside in the hall. "Whatever the case, it might not be wise to make my secrets known ... It might corrupt your minds."

Once Hermione stopped giggling, Harry adjusted his glasses and smiled contentedly at her presence. She breathed deeply, placing the basket down on the floor, her smooth hair reflecting like waves as the strands cascaded over her shoulder.

"Hi, Harry," she said and walked towards him until they were close, yet still far enough to control their emotions, to limit their thoughts of intimacy they had bottled up for the sake of their mistakes.

"Hi," Harry responded back. "Did you get a tour of the house, yet?"

"I love the house. I'm so happy for you. And Sirius told me about your OWL results," she said, getting a little more closer to Harry. "I'm happy you've passed Potions."

He beamed brightly, staring at her new look. She certainly was more elegant with straight smooth hair. "Your hair?"

"You like it?" she asked with a smile, grabbing hold of a bundle of her brown hair, which were without curls or frizz or stray strands. "I saw an advertisement in the Daily Prophet for a new product called Madam Chevelu's Frizz Free Potion. I'm just trying it out, it's not like I'll be able to maintain it. You know how I am. But I can get you one too," she babbled on with excitement. "I'll give it to you on the train. It should tame your hair," Hermione giggled.

"Well, I like it. But you don't need to fix your hair to be beautiful ... you ... er, already are pretty," Harry said and blushed. Hermione did too.

"So, how are you?" they both chorused at the same time. They paused, and Harry replied first.

"I'm fine ..." he lied. Hermione rolled her eyes, knowingly. "Okay ... I'm still getting better. Actually I won't be surprised if Madam Pomfrey yanks me from the Great Hall the moment I set foot in the castle and steers me into the hospital wing. And how are you?"

She blinked. "I'm fine - just fine," she said. But Harry could sense she was really not either, still troubled by the events.

"Come on, let's sit down," Harry gestured to the couch. Sitting down, he watched Hermione pick up the basket, placing her hand on top of the lid. Harry wondered for a second what was in it, but he soon knew when he heard several tiny meows escaping from inside it.

"Kittens!" Hermione beamed, opening the lid. A moment later six tiny heads with bulging, curious eyes popped up.

"Come on," Hermione cooed, picking a couple up gently and placing them on the floor while two leaped out, landing softly next to their parents. Persia clicked into motherly mode and began grooming them. "Now, they're still young ... in a couple of weeks I can separate them and give them away. But I wanted you to choose one," Hermione said. However, the truth of the matter was that this was not her primary reason for seeing Harry; she wanted to see how he was coping and his new home. Plus, she wanted to have a little chat about Ron.

"Well, it's going to be hard to choose one," Harry sighed, goggling at all the hyperactive kittens who began playing with anything loose around the room.

Hermione nodded. "Oh, I know! They are so adorable - all have different personalities and most take after Crookshanks." Hermione picked one up and began to stroke it.

Harry looked at each one in turn. "Have you named them or -"

"Oh, I've given them temporary names. See the white one attempting to bring down the curtain? That's Buster - he keeps breaking things - not that he means to," Hermione giggled. "This white one I'm holding ... is chameleon. She can change colours to blend with the decor."

And Hermione was right, as Harry watched, the kitten changed its white fur to match the blue shirt Hermione was wearing. "Oh brilliant!" he laughed, amazed.

She then pointed to a white kitten with ginger spots. "Spot ... she can make her ginger spots move on her body. It's so cute." Then her attention went to a kitten resting by Persia who had a black nose. "That's Dot."

"Creative names," Harry scoffed jokingly.

"Oh, shut up ..." she said. "The kitten with the ginger tail tip ... that's Tailer. All of them except Camillion and Spot have Crookshanks' powers - but all are very intelligent. And where's Lilac? She's very curious, that one," Hermione questioned, searching behind the couch in her seat.

Harry heard a distinct meowing behind him, and he spun around, seeing a pure white kitten with almost translucent purple eyes with white vertical pupils. "I think she's here," Harry replied, watching as the kitten jumped onto his shoulder and inquisitively began playing with his wild hair. Harry instantly liked Lilac, maybe it was her hypnotic eyes and the way she was the only one that went to him. Maybe even cats sometimes chose the wizard.

Harry untangled her from his hair as she tried to eat it and held her up so he could see her more. "I think I've found my new pet," he smiled.

"Oh, perfect choice, Harry. She's like Crookshanks ... but I sense there's something more. Like she could see things that aren't there," Hermione explained.

Harry heard the kitten purr as he held her to his chest, the tiny bundle balling up and resting, closing her eyes as Harry stroked her. "Hmmm, she could be Mrs Norris' rival," he thought out loud. "Think of the cat fights ... and she could warn us about Filch."

"Harry!" Hermione said with a look reminiscent of Madam Pince's when they did something wrong in the library, however, a little warmer.

They played with the kittens while Persia and Crookshanks looked on with their watchful eyes on their little ones.

Hermione took in a deep breath and shut her eyes slowly. "Have- have you tried to talk to Ron?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "I sent several letters, but he doesn't respond." He sighed quietly, patting Lilac. He had decided to keep the name for his kitten ... it described her perfectly.

"Me too," Hermione sombrely replied. "I can't bear to think that we will never speak again," she said, her eyes displaying a sense of desperate need.

Harry looked at her and stretched out his hand, wanting to touch her. However, he hesitated ... his rocky friendship with Ron was too important to be jeopardised at the moment.

Harry gazed away. "Let's try and talk to him when we are at the Hogwarts Express."

"What if he won't -"

"I won't -" he said a little louder than he intended, producing a wave of sharp pain in his chest. "I won't give up ... even if it takes forever. I still want him to - he's like a brother to me."

"I know," Hermione softly said.

Harry wished that all this had never happened. He wished he had never felt something for Hermione, to have never broken Ron's heart. But he decided deep down that his love for Hermione would never part from him. He would always have something telling him that his love for her was still alive, never dying. And maybe, years from now they would be able to freely love each other.