With Honor

With Honor

Chapter One

It was a hot and sunny summer afternoon that saw three teenagers of the most peculiar assortment pass through the respectable street of Privet Drive. They pulled large and heavy looking trunks, each of which included an animal sitting diligently in a cage, laughing and talking, none of them seeming to be very tired, despite the blistering heat and the heavy lifting.

This was because these three teenagers, as peculiar as they seemed on the outside, were even stranger on the inside. They were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, and they were happily walking through the summer heat with cooling charms cast over each of them, and their trunks bewitched to be feather-light.

It was only the fact that they had been abandoned at the train station that caused them any annoyance at all, but they had enjoyed a taxi ride, and only when discovering their Muggle money was not enough to pay the entire fare, they were dropped off five blocks away from their final destination, leaving them to cover that distance by walking.

Although Harry, who was not yet of age in the wizarding world, could not bewitch his trunk and cool himself down, he had two of age friends, one of them being particularly clever, had managed to cast a cooling charm over all three friends, and had kindly bewitched his trunk as well as her own.

Passing the streets where he had grown up as a child, Harry pointed out various landmarks from his tales to his best friends, including the place where he had met Dementors with his cousin two years ago.

But when reaching their final destination, Harry found his mood souring quickly. Number Four, Privet Drive was as clean as ever, with its neat driveway, flourishing garden, and the familiar if slightly disturbing sight of a large boy in an undershirt and boxers, sitting with his feet up and his mouth open, staring mindlessly at a television screen.

"Well here it is," Harry said heavily. "Home sweet home. Ron, you know what the Dursleys are like. Hermione, you should know too by all I've told you. All I can say is... well... brace yourselves. If they purposely abandoned me at King's Cross, they must not be very happy with you two coming."

"Do you think maybe," Hermione began anxiously.

"No," Harry said. "This may be their house, but we can all share my room, they'll hardly notice you there."

Harry walked up to the door, knocked once, twice, and three times, and sure enough, as if on cue, the door opened, exposing a bony Aunt Petunia and a beefy Uncle Vernon.

"Hello," Harry said pleasantly. "I think I told you that my friends would be staying with me for a few days? Don't worry, we will stay just a few days and then never darken your doorstep again."

"Did we not make it clear," Aunt Petunia said disdainfully. "That by not picking you up at the train station, we disapproved of you bringing such guests into our house? Especially... your sort."

Hermione let out a sound of disbelief.

"Great, shunned by both worlds," she muttered, and Harry bit back a chuckle.

"I will pay for their lodgings of course," Harry said warily. "And rest assured we will get all of our meals from outside. Can we please come in now, the neighbors are staring."

Of course there was no such thing, but Harry knew such a statement would make his Aunt usher them in, and he was right, for immediately his aunt shushed him and pulled him forcefully by the arm in, and in turn Ron and Hermione followed.

"Hey Diddykins," said Harry conversationally as they passed his massive cousin, who flopped comically as he grabbed a pair of shorts and hastily put them on after seeing Hermione.

"Hi are you Chrissie, from Datemaster dot com?" Dudley said immediately. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting you till six, I'm sorry you had to see my cousin there, he's mentally unstable you know, terrible accident as a child..."

"Dudley..." Aunt Petunia began but Dudley waved her off.

"C'mon, let's get out of this place, I know a great place for fish and chips down at the mall, my treat, honeybuns..."

Hermione flushed pink in embarassment, and Ron turned red in anger, and Harry turned green in sickness.

"Err... Hermione, this is my cousin Dudley. Dudley, Hermione. I'm sure, ah, Chrissy will be along shortly, in the meantime, I'm sure your parents would prefer you to not flirt with witches. Especially not the kind that could pull another piggy tail with no problem," Harry said mildly.

Dudley clutched at his bottom for a moment, considering.

"Right you are, Harry," he said, remarkably polite. "I'll just be getting ready then."

With that, Dudley shuffled out of the room, never taking his eyes off Hermione in fear.

"Well," Harry said. "Let's go upstairs, shall we?"

"About the payment?" Uncle Vernon said not at all discreetly.

Harry withdrew from his pocket ten large gold coins.

"This should cover it."

Leaving his Aunt and Uncle to poke at prod at the gold coins, he motioned with Hedwig's cage as he led the way up to his room. Placing his baggage down he looked at the small room sheepishly.

"Well it might be a snug fit for the three of us," Harry said. "Hermione you can take the bed, Ron you can take the sofa, and I'll kip on a blanket on the floor..."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ron said airily. "Hermione, work your magic, won't you?"

Hermione obliged, sweeping her wand in an arc and instantly it appeared as if the room had stretched. Frowning slightly in concentration, she waved her wand twice more, and two small camp beds appeared next to the Harry's battered single bed.

Admiring her work, she stepped back and smiled.

"So what do you think?" Hermione asked.

"Much better," Ron answered. "So this is where we'll be for the whole of this week, eh?"

"Oh I can sense the excitement," Harry said dryly, sitting down on Hermione's conjured bed. "Do you think Ginny's back at the Burrow yet?"

Harry saw Ron and Hermione exchange small knowing smiles, and felt a hard pang in his chest - he had forgotten, like he often did, that he had broken up with Ginny Weasley at the end of the previous school year. Although they remained friends, Harry knew that she was not particularly happy with him.

It's for her own good, Harry thought to himself sadly.

"Probably," Ron said. "Mum picked her up, you remember, you were there..."

"Right... of course," Harry said, remembering. "Preparing for the wedding I suppose?"

"Yes," Hermione answered for Ron. "But you've already talked about this at least ten times in the last two days."

"Sorry," Harry said, not feeling sorry at all. He slumped down on to his bed. "So I was thinking, maybe I could check Dumbledore's old house, maybe find out if he has any leads on the Horcruxes..."

"Harry," Ron said sternly. "We are on vacation. Enjoy a few days before we head off, mate."

"It's a good idea, Harry," said Hermione bracingly. "But you promised, and we all agreed that we'd start the search after the wedding."

Harry looked darkly at Hermione's trainers, which were emblazoned with an S on each side.

"This is about stopping Voldemort, it's not a piece of homework or something, this is talking about lives, every day people are killed, lives are ruined," Harry said quietly.

"And if everyone let Voldemort dictate their daily actions, if we had no more peace and normalcy, isn't it just as bad as losing the war already?" Hermione said. "Come on Harry, I know you miss Ginny, but please cheer up."

"This isn't about Ginny," said Harry, frustrated. "What if next time, Voldemort goes for one of your families? How would you feel knowing you didn't do everything in your power to try and stop it?"

Ron and Hermione fell silent, both looking slightly ashamed, and Harry felt guilt rising inside him as well.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"No, I think you did," Ron said. "And what's more I think you're right. But so is Hermione. So come on, let's compromise. You take us out to see those movings, Hermione will treat us to dinner, and I'll get the snacks and we can discuss all we want at night. We want to experience all the joys of the Muggles."

"Movies," Hermione corrected in an almost inaudible whisper.

"Oh drop it," Ron said, grinning as he threw a pillow at Hermione.

Harry looked at his two best friends, who smiled back him eagerly.

"The mall is fifteen minutes away," Harry said. "Follow me. And lock the door on the way out Ron, my Aunt and Uncle will probably faint dead if they see what Hermione's done to the room."

All of them smirking slightly, the three friends made their way out of the room.

***

The short stay at the Dursleys was quite uneventful, excepting Harry once losing his temper at Dudley and his gang of bullies, resulting in a long tirade from Uncle Vernon about how it was wrong to threaten normal people with 'unnatural satanic practices'.

It was Saturday night that Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided to leave Privet Drive, just two weeks before Harry's birthday, and one week until Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Harry had pictured this moment for many long years, the day he would finally leave the Dursleys for good. When the moment came, he felt an unexpected sense of loss, as if one thing that would have always remained stable, standing, albeit very unpleasantly, in his life was now gone.

Harry had already spoken his short goodbyes with his aunt, uncle, and cousin, and was now standing alone on the driveway, looking in at his family. He saw his aunt and uncle clinking glasses, apparently drinking to the happy occasion of finally getting rid of 'that Potter boy', and his cousin sneaking a slice of cake from the coffee table, no doubt intending to pin the blame on him when the said piece of cake was discovered to be missing, and despite any chocolate stains on his face, his parents would believe him.

Turning, he saw Ron looking impatient and Hermione looking misty-eyed at him, and he could not help but smile. Those two were his real family, not the people inside the house. Blood bonds only took you so far, he thought to himself.

Once more he turned to look at the building in which he had grown up, the people whom he had always had to endure, often very painfully, and then to his two best friends in the world, the ever so clever Hermione Granger and the steadfastly loyal Ron Weasley.

Taking one more deep breath, he turned his back on Number Four, Privet Drive, and joined his friends standing on the side of the street.

"Ready?" Hermione asked.

"At your pleasure," Harry replied.

Hermione stuck out her wand, and almost instantly, the purple Knight Bus came into sight.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, gentlemen and beautiful lady, my name is Johnny Limproot, and I'll be your conductor tonight. May I ask where you are going?"

Harry frowned slightly, remembering Stan Shunpike, the old conductor who had been arrested by the Ministry.

"Good lord, is it the Chosen One?"

Harry tried to hide behind Ron, to no success.

"By golly, it's Harry Potter!" Johnny Limproot shouted. "Come aboard, sir, the ride is on the house, for you and your friends."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Harry murmured, as they boarded the Bus.

"Hey there, Harry," the driver, Ernie Prang said courteously. Harry had seen the man crying at Dumbledore's funeral, and he didn't look much happier back in the Knight Bus. Harry supposed that he must be missing Stan Shunpike, the old conductor aboard the bus, whom seemed to be close to the driver.

Harry nodded and smiled sympathetically at the man, letting himself be ushered along the walkway.

"Good lord," Harry heard a woman whisper as they walked past. The passengers hissed to each other in low voices, and Harry felt Hermione grab his arm very tightly, steering him towards their beds.

Before they even lay down though, there was a loud BANG, in which Harry was thrown backwards onto the bed, Hermione crashing next to him, and Ron tripping over Pidwidgeon's cage and hitting his head on Hedwig's cage, sending both owls twittering.

"The Burrow, St Ottery Catchpole!"

"Wow that was fast," Harry said, impressed, as they hastily grabbed their luggage and made their way down once more. As soon as they stepped off the bus, it disappeared with another loud bang, and unceremoniously splattered Hermione and Ron with mud, narrowly missing Harry.

"It's like royal treatment," Hermione said, looking amused despite the filth on her white shirt.

"Get used to it, mate," Ron said, rubbing his head and spitting out a bit of mud. "The spotlight is all on you now."

Hermione took out her wand and with a mutter of 'Tergeo' cleaned the filth off of herself and Ron.

Harry nodded grimly, although his friends had looked away. Indeed, with Dumbledore's passing, the wizarding world now looked to Harry as Dumbledore's successor - both in the fact that he refused to co-operate with the Ministry, and in his distinct heroism, which even Harry felt was rather exaggerated in the newspapers. Apparently he had moral fiber even he did not know of, and as he was, as Ron put, 'in the spotlight', he was sure it would be tested sooner or later.

"Well, we're here at last, you can see the house from here," Ron said thoughtfully, levitating his trunk high above his head. "Wonder what Mum's made tonight."

"And Ginny will be there," Harry said quietly, trying to ignore the sinking, void-like feeling in his chest.

Hermione patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Harry. She'll be the same as always," she said reassuringly.

Harry smiled sadly.

"It only makes it so much harder."

"What is the deal anyway," Ron asked, sounding curious yet also slightly annoyed. "You broke up with my sister because you were afraid Voldemort would go after her?"

"Yes," Harry replied through gritted teeth. "Do you not remember the Chamber of Secrets? She was possessed by Voldemort's Horcrux, all to get at me!"

"That wasn't Voldemort's doing," Ron corrected smartly. "It was Lucius Malfoy who slipped the diary to Ginny, if I remember correctly. It was mere luck, if you have it, that the Horcrux decided to use Ginny as bait to lure you in."

Harry glared at Ron, who ignored him.

"And even if Ginny had never mentioned you, it's not as if Voldemort's soul would have been content to let Ginny walk free," Ron said, waving his wand absent-mindedly, nearly hitting Hermione with his floating trunk.

"Watch where you're..." Hermione started, but Ron ignored her too.

"And we're all a bunch of blood traitors in Voldemort's eyes, it's not like he'll leave us be if we aren't your friends or something."

Hermione had just ducked to avoid the swinging trunk, and losing patience, she flicked her wand and Ron's suitcase fell noisily to the floor, scattering various items all over he muddy floor.

"What was that for?" said Ron angrily.

"You nearly took my head off five times back there," said Hermione, equally furious.

Harry listened to his two best friends bicker, as Ron packed up the belongings. It was a moment later, when they had nearly reached the house, that Harry realized his best friend had said 'Voldemort' without the slightest hint of fear.

Approaching the house, they were greeted by Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to have forgotten all Ministry of Magic Home Protection Protocol and ran out to hug her youngest son.

"Oh Ron, you're home! How we've missed you, it was terrible with no children in the house..."

"No children?" Ron asked. "What about Ginny?"

"Off with Fred and George," said Mrs. Weasley with a disapproving sniff. "Now that Hogwarts has turned to private tuition, Ginny is giving me this rubbish about not going back, do try to talk some sense into her, won't you Ron dear? Good to see you, Harry, Hermione."

Harry and Hermione looked suspiciously at Ron, whose neck turned red in embarrassment.

Mrs. Weasley ushered them into the house, where a beautiful array of smells filled Harry's nostrils. There was a vast array of food, including the unmistakable smell of treacle tart, and Harry smiled as he remembered the scent of the Amortentia, the strongest love potion in the world, and how all of them were present at the Burrow.

All but one, of course.

"Is Ginny coming back tonight?" Harry asked, as they magicked their trunks to their respective rooms, and entered the kitchen.

"No, she'll be staying at Fred and George's apartment. You'll see her next Sunday at the wedding though, Harry."

She looked at him somewhat coldly, and Harry looked away.

So Mrs. Weasley must know about him breaking up with their only daughter, he thought. If only they knew why - he knew Ginny, her pride would probably not allow her to share such a detail with her parents, in fact how Mrs. Weasley knew about their past relationship at all was surprising.

Harry jerked himself out of his thoughts as he saw Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley had all sat down at the table and were looking at him oddly.

"Sorry," he said, quickly sitting down.

He saw Hermione looking at him with a knowing smile on her face, and Ron looking at him suspiciously, a look which he returned. There would be quite a lot to talk about tonight, Harry thought as he helped himself to a great spoonful of potatoes.

"So, what are Gabrielle and Ginny wearing as a bridesmaid?" Harry asked, sighing as he saw Hermione's smile widen and Ron look at him even more suspiciously. So much for asking a simple question.

***

"You didn't tell her," accused Harry as soon as they entered Ron's room. "That you weren't going back to Hogwarts."

"And you didn't tell us you're still not over my sister," Ron retorted.

"As if he needed to," Hermione cut in disdainfully. "If you had the slightest sense of observation you would have realized it."

Harry flushed, having thought he was being very discreet about his feelings towards Ginny.

"That's not the point though," Harry cut in. "This matter with Ginny is not on the same scale as you not telling your parents that you're coming with me to find the Horcruxes..."

"Look," Ron said, sounding tired. "I'll get to it after the wedding. I don't want to ruin everyone's mood."

Harry was rather taken aback by this thoughtfulness and nodded.

"You're right, sorry."

The three sat in silence for a while, until Hermione, who had been hugging her legs looking out the window with a thoughtful expression spoke.

"What's being done for the security of the wedding?"

"Security?" Ron said blankly. "Hermione it's a wedding, not a concert or something..."

"No," said Hermione. "I was talking about a potential Death Eater attack. Remember the Prophet from last week, a couple's wedding was attacked because it was such a large gathering of witches and wizards..."

"Don't worry," Ron said. "Bill told me, only close friends and family are coming, no chance of the location being leaked out."

"Bet Fleur wasn't too happy with that," said Hermione, exchanging a smile with Harry. "Zere ees no one here to admire my dress!"

Harry laughed at Hermione's false accent, and Ron glared at both of them angrily.

"Lay off her," Ron said. "She's about to be part of my family, it'd be nice if you didn't insult my future sister-in-law. And besides, Fleur would prefer a small, but safe wedding than a large one where everyone has to look over their shoulders every minute."

Harry's mind wandered to Voldemort, who according to the newspapers was getting more and more aggressive, the latest target being a small wizarding village near Liverpool which was burnt to cinders, and half the village murdered in their sleep. If he attacked Bill and Fleur's wedding...

He won't, Harry thought to himself. Voldemort would not know where it was, surely, and even if he did, Harry was sure there would be a large number of skilled wizards attending, for Bill's colleagues at Gringotts and Mr. Weasley's friends at the Ministry surely would scare Voldemort from attempting to attack such a populated place in broad daylight.

"So the wedding, it'll be here?"

"No," Ron replied. "We'll be taking Portkeys to France, they're having the wedding in a church near Fleur's house."

Harry nodded, and leaned back on the chair. Ron was now absently twirling his finger around Hermione's hair, who didn't look as if she minded at all.

"Well I'm going to grab a drink and then go to bed," Harry said decisively. "It's been a long day, and I want to get up early tomorrow..."

"Why would you want to do that?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Just to look around," Harry said, shrugging. He pushed open Ron's door and was descending the staircase when he turned and heard muffled voices and a small laugh from Hermione.

Gazing slightly wistfully at the door, he continued down the stairs alone, pausing only to take in the whiff of flowery scent as he passed Ginny Weasley's door.