Rating:
R
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Harry Potter
Genres:
Angst Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 12/26/2003
Updated: 01/06/2004
Words: 4,394
Chapters: 4
Hits: 1,510

Summer Days

Lipton Lee

Story Summary:
The summer after his fifth year, Harry is uprooted from the Dursleys' and gets a few surprises.

Chapter 01

Chapter Summary:
The Summer after his fifth year, Harry is uprooted from the Durlsey's and gets a few surprises.
Posted:
12/26/2003
Hits:
625
Author's Note:
My first Harry-centric fic. Be gentle.

    He'd been away from Hogwarts for less than a day, and already, Allistor Moody was standing on the front stoop.

    "Change in plans?" Harry asked, stepping out of the doorway.

    The grizzly old man nodded. "Get your things together, Potter. We're leavin."

    "Where are we going?" Harry asked crossing him arms.

    "Away. Now get your things."

    "Are we going to the Burrow?" the bespectacled boy asked, feeling excited to see his friends again.

    "Get… your… things."

    Harry sighed in defeat and walked back into the house. He climbed the stairs to his room and began to gather his belongings and shove them all into his trunk.

    "Wotcher, Harry."

    He whirled around to find Tonks sitting on his bed, her spiky hair a crazy shade of electric blue. She smiled at him cheerfully.

    "Like the hair," he told her, dropping some books into his trunk.

    She smiled at him and pulled at her spikes a little. "Thank you! I've never tried this particular shade of blue before."

    "What are you doing here?"

    "Came to help Mad-Eye collect you," she replied.

    "Where are we going?" he asked her, still packing his things.

    "I'd tell ya, Harry, I really would, but Mad-Eye made me promise not to let slip till it was time. It's nothing bad. An' we're not going back to headquarters, that's for sure."

    He felt the color drain from his face and he nodded, turning away to gather a few pairs of socks and drop them into his trunk.

    "Here, let me help," she said in a gentle voice. She pulled out her wand and uttered a spell, making the rest of his belongings fly into the trunk. "There," she smiled.

    "Where's Lupin?" Harry asked.

    "We're meeting up with him," Tonks replied. "Locomortis trunk!" she cried. The trunk lifted into the air and she conducted it out of the room and down the stairs, she tripped along the way as she carried Hedwig's cage in her free hand but quickly regained her balance.

    "What about my Aunt and Uncle?" Harry asked. He felt the color rise to his face again. "I'm not supposed to leave here, you know. This is the only place I'm safe."

    Tonks shook her head. "Not the only place… listen, don't worry about that. This is completely legit… Dumbledore's orders."

    He sighed and nodded as they walked out the front door.

    Moody glared at them with his good eye. "Took you two long enough," he snapped. "Come on. Let's go."

    "How?" Harry asked.

    A car horn sounded from the street and Harry looked over to see a blue Ford Anglia sitting there. "Hi, Harry! Good to see you, again!"

    Harry blinked at the pony-tailed redhead in the driver's seat. "Bill?"

    The eldest Weasley smiled and nodded. "Hop in. We've got a long drive ahead of us."

    Harry nodded slowly and tried to take the passenger's seat, but was given a menacing glare by Moody, and decided to sit next to Tonks in the back.

    "Where did you get this car?" Harry asked Bill.

    "Dumbledore recovered it from the Dark Forrest," Bill explained with a smile. "Said you could appreciate this old hunk of metal."

    Harry smiled. He certainly could. This was the same car he and his best friend had flown to school in their second year.

    He asked several more times where they were going, but it was no use. The trio of Order members just stuck to safe topics, such as Quidditch and the weather. Harry just stared out the window, watching as Little Winging passed him by.

    "Why are we doing this the Muggle way?" Harry asked finally.

    "It's safer," Bill replied. "It's slower, but there's less chance of being suspected."

    In an hour's time, they'd pulled into a small, quaint village bustling with people walking in and out of small shops, including a large store with a thick sign that read Heming's Grocery; next to it was a drug store, along with a book shop and a toy store on the same strip. They passed a few more strips like this, all quite busy.

    Harry stared out his window, his brow furrowing. "Where are we?"

    Moody grimaced. "Godric's Hollow."

    He felt sick. He was born here. His parents had lived here. They'd died here. He stared from Bill to Tonks to Moody. "Why-"

    "Don't worry, Harry. You'll know soon enough," Tonks said, patting him on the shoulder.

    Bill stopped the car outside of a modest home on the edge of the town. The yard was littered with various plants and trees. In the front of the house was a large, nice-looking garden, where a woman with her back turned to the street was digging up the earth in front of her and planting more flowers. Sitting on the front steps was a man with shaggy gray and brown hair, wearing a very warn out pair of slacks and a long-sleeved shirt with a patch on it arm. A chunky book sat on his thin legs and he read it with a contented expression on his face.

    Moody got out of the car first, struggling to make himself look dignified as the woman turned around and lifted the sunglasses from their perch on her nose to sit atop her blond head. She smiled and got to her feet.

    Harry blinked. He recognized Remus Lupin instantly. But the woman was quite unfamiliar. She looked to be around Remus' age, and had the aforementioned blond hair, which was loose and straight, hanging past her shoulders. She was only a little taller than Harry and was very delicately built. Her blue eyes shimmered out at the world and she smiled at Harry and his party fondly.

    Remus, however, had yet to look up from his book.

    "Remus?" The woman said.

    "Hrm?"

    "We have visitors."

    He remained indifferent. "That's nice."

    She gave him a reproachful stare. "Remus…"

    He smiled widely and looked up from his book.

    Harry had honestly never seen his former professor look so relaxed. Sitting in the sun with his book on his lap as he was, who could guess the horrors he'd seen?

    "Harry Potter," Tonks introduced. "Arabella Figg."

    Harry blinked and stared at the thirty-odd-year-old woman. "No she's not," He said, obviously confused. "I've met Arabella Figg."

    The blond woman smiled at him. "You met my grandmother," she told him. "I'm Arabella, as well."

    Harry blinked, feeling slightly embarrassed at his slight outburst. "Sorry… it's… it's nice to meet you, Ms. Figg."

    She snickered and took his hand to shake it. "Please, Bella will do… And we've met before, though I don't expect you to remember."

    Harry was more confused than ever.

    "Harry, Bella is your godmother," Remus informed him, getting to his feet. "She was your mother's best friend."

    Harry stared at the smiling blond. He'd only really known about his father's friends. Never before had anyone mentioned his mother's. Did this mean that Bella had been involved with Sirius somewhere along the line? Why had no one ever mentioned her before?

    "Are you in the Order, too?" Harry asked her quietly, despite the other, more personal questions that plagued his thoughts.

    She nodded. "That, I am… I've been away for awhile… in Japan, actually. Doing some work for Dumbledore. But when-"

    She didn't finish her sentence. Her expression became suddenly very sad, and Harry only needed one guess why.

    "I was called back here to help look after you," she told him gently.

    "We should move this inside, Bella," Moody growled lowly. "Don't want no pryin' ears."

    She sighed and nodded. "As paranoid as that is, Mad-Eye, you're right."

    Remus led them into the smallish house. The floors were a heavy wood that echoed under their feet as they walked; the paneling on the wall was the same kind of wood. The occasional portrait stared out at them as they passed.

    They walked through the kitchen, with its Muggle appliances and open window that shed a warm light into the room, and into a dining room. They sat around a table that was covered with a nice, pale blue tablecloth in wooden chairs whose seats were covered in nice cushions which matched the tablecloth.

    "Is this your house?" Harry asked Arabella, looking around.

    She gave him a sad smile and shook her head. "No, Harry. It's yours."