A Season of Revelations

Chapter 1 - A Midnight Visitor

The beginning of July had come and passed while Harry Potter impatiently tolerated life with the Dursleys on Privet Drive.

He stared out his bedroom window at the dark clouds that threatened a summer storm, searching the sky for a sign of Hedwig. A breeze picked up, tossing back his mess of black hair and exposing his lightning-bolt shaped scar.

Just as a light rain began to fall, Hedwig flew up to Harry with a scroll attached to her leg. He lit up at the thought of more news from his friends, and offered Hedwig a bowl of fresh water.

The letter was from Hermione. For a brief moment Harry figured she could have used muggle post or the telephone, but he liked it better this way. He left the window open, listening to the fresh rain, and read the letter.

Dear Harry,

We promised we wouldn't leave you there alone all summer,and we won't. My parents have gone on holiday to visit my Aunt Deborah in California, in the U.S. (I heard there's an amazing wizard school there, somewhere near San Francisco), and they'll be gone for a month! I told them I wanted to stay behind and study for my N.E.W.T.s, so they understood. Anyone would believe Hermione would start preparing an entire year early.

Naturally what I really wanted was to get you out of there so we could keep practicing defense this summer. I hear Ron and Ginny have been at it with Quidditch day and night, and that Fred and George have rented a flat above their shop. They have written, I hope. Ron had, to tell him the Order had been making secret plans to safeguard the Burrow against dark magic in hopes of spending less time at No. 12 Grimmauld Place.

Most importantly, I'm writing because I wanted to warn you that I'll be coming for you at midnight on the eleventh, so be expecting me. Please make sure Hedwig is in her cage - I'll explain later.

Bye,
Hermione

Even though Harry knew in his bones that he should be preparing to defend himself against Voldemort, he longed for the kind of summer spent playing Quidditch with Ron and Ginny. Things had been so serious since his fourth year. He could hardly remember a week gone by without his scar aching at one point.

But Hermione was coming, and he was leaving his house - nothing could make him happier at the moment. The eleventh is tomorrow, Harry thought. One more day in this place is all I have to endure!

Ever since the end of June he'd been forced to listen to the Dursleys dote over their "little man" turning sixteen, and put up with Dudley going on about needing to shave every morning. Harry figured that, if Dudley actually had any facial hair (which he did not), he'd need several razor blades to shave all his enormous chins. The only thing he was "man enough" to become was a Sumo wrestler.

His Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had stayed away from Harry more this summer than any in memory, and he had Mr. Weasley, Tonks, Moody, and members of the Order of the Phoenix to thank for that.

Harry started to pack immediately, even though he figured Hermione wouldn't be there until tomorrow night. He put the letter on top of the stack of Daily Prophets he'd been receiving. Stories of Voldemort's return and the Ministry of Magic's "stringent security efforts" to investigate his group of followers were on the front page every day, along with a daily column offering the 'Tip of the Day' for wizarding folk to defend themselves against dark magic. Of course, Harry read these and only scoffed at their suggestions. They were treating it with kid gloves still, as though they were tips on how to avoid getting leg cramps.

The sky was growing dark, and Harry closed the window in the chilly breeze. He lay on his bed trying to imagine what other members of the Order or DA were doing. He thought about Lupin and Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley, shouting back at the portrait of Sirius' mother and banishing Kreacher to clean up several months worth of Buckbeak's mess upstairs.

All this steered his mind closer to Sirius, who he missed terribly. But an earlier letter from Dumbledore had warned him against too many thoughts of the Order and headquarters, not until he could resume Occlumency lessons. If he means with Snape, he can just shove it, he thought.

So his mind drifted to thoughts of Hermione showing up at the Dursleys' doorstep, and their shock that a girl would be looking for Harry instead of their soft-shaven little man. His thoughts wandered to Ron and Ginny, practicing Quidditch at the Burrows. These thoughts of Ginny, wind flying through her red hair, were oddly comforting and soothed him into a deep sleep.

***

A loud fluttering and clawing at the window jarred Harry out of his sleep. Fumbling for his glasses, he turned on the light to see Hedwig frantically flapping against the windowpane. Like a reflex, he checked his forehead. My scar isn't hurting, he thought, relieved.

"Settle down!" He'd left her cage door open again. He checked the clock - 12:05 a.m. It occurred to him she might want to go hunting.

Harry let Hedwig out, and she soared to the nearest telephone pole, surveying the block. Except for soft drizzle and a neighborhood tabby cat on the prowl, Harry couldn't see anything under the orange light of the streetlamps.

Hedwig swooped down into the Dursleys' backyard in pursuit of something. Harry didn't think too much of it, except a few seconds later he distinctly heard the sound of breaking glass coming from the kitchen. He bolted down the stairs before anyone else in the house could get their slippers on.

In the kitchen, Harry found two of Aunt Petunia's stained glass ornaments shattered in the sink. He glanced up to notice they'd fallen off the window directly above, and small, muddy paw prints slid down the outside of the glass.

Harry opened the window to poke his head out and peered down, directly into the eyes of the fluffy cat he'd seen a moment ago. It leapt up at the window, mewing bitterly at something just out of its reach and making a terrible racket.

From out of the treetops Hedwig swooped down on the cat, screeching and flapping her great white wings.

The chase was on - Hedwig dive-bombed the cat, which bolted back and forth across the yard. A thought occurred to Harry, Hermione's words echoing in his mind. "Make sure Hedwig is in her cage... midnight on the eleventh..."

That was tonight, not tomorrow! What if that cat has something to do with Hermione?

Then something came to him, like intuition. What if that cat is Hermione? It was a little baffling, partially unbelievable that she would ask someone to transfigure her just to spring Harry from Privet Drive. It would have to be an older-aged wizard...

"Hedwig could kill her!" he exclaimed. Just as he registered the thought, an ugly grunt came from upstairs.

A light flicked on in the hall, followed by booming footsteps on the stairs. Uncle Vernon barreled into the kitchen, not unlike a drowsy water buffalo. "What in bloody hell is going on here?" he glared at Harry, his culprit of choice for any crime.

Harry tore at the lock on the glass doors that lead outside, his uncle breathing down his neck. "Where do you think you're going at this hour? Get back in..."

"My owl...Just, nevermind!" Harry cut him off and ran out into the dewy grass. From the other side of the yard, the cat came sprinting followed closely by Hedwig.

"Hedwig - NO!" he screamed. But before he cold run after her, something small and furry came leaping off the gutter above the kitchen window and landed on Harry's shoulder. It squeaked in terror and scampered under the neck of Harry's pajama shirt.

"What the..." Harry exclaimed, squirming as the fuzzy creature clung to him under the shirt. "Get off!" Its enormous bushy tail stuck out of his collar, smacking Harry in the face.

Uncle Vernon came charging out, followed by Dudley and Aunt Petunia in their nightclothes. "HARRY!" raged Uncle Vernon.

Aunt Petunia gasped and almost fell backwards when Harry pulled off his shirt, holding up a large tree squirrel.

"Rat!" screamed Aunt Petunia, scampering back into the house.

Harry looked at it curiously, and it stared back with pleading eyes. A ribbon was tied around its neck, and attached was a small, jeweled medallion.

"Don't be daft, Petunia darling," Uncle Vernon said casually. "It's just a squirrel." Then he began to grow even redder in the face. "I put up with all sorts of bloody owls, but if you think I'll put up with rodents in this house for one moment..."

The scrappy tabby ran by, barreling into the house and Hedwig swooping in after it. Dudley chased the animals, shouting, "Hey, a cat!" He was fond of torturing animals, and cats were his favorite.

Uncle Vernon followed Dudley inside, shouting, "THIS IS NOT A ZOO!" Harry heard Aunt Petunia shriek from inside the house, then the sound of a lamp crashing to the ground.

Harry examined the squirrel in his hands. "Hermione?" he whispered, feeling quite silly. The squirrel seemed to tilt its head to the side, and place its tiny paws on its hips in consternation. Funny, he thought. If it's not Hermione, then it does a good impression of her.

Harry smiled, and gently stuffed the squirrel into the pockets of his pajama bottoms. "Don't move," he told it.

After another bellowing shout by Uncle Vernon, the cat bolted out the glass doors and into the night, far away from the Dursleys and Hedwig.

Harry ran upstairs, intentionally avoiding the expressions of horror and threats coming from his aunt and uncle. He found Hedwig sitting patiently, though quite ruffled, on the perch in her cage.

Uncle Vernon pounded loudly at Harry's door, and the squirrel jumped out of his pocket and under the bed. Harry flung the door open, putting his finger up to stop his uncle from speaking before he could utter a threat.

"I'm leaving. A message came for me, and I'm going tonight," was all he said into the crimson face of Uncle Vernon. He closed his gaping mouth and swallowed contemptuously, his thick neck popping with veins of rage.

Harry cut him off again, "If you don't try and stop me, I... They won't cause any trouble." He knew that his uncle understood exactly what he was talking about. Weeks earlier at Kings Cross Station, a group of Order members lead by Arthur Weasley made sure the Dursleys got he message that Harry wasn't to be mistreated.

Shutting the door in Uncle Vernon's face and listening to him storm off in defeat was one of the happiest moments of Harry's year.

He closed Hedwig's cage and squatted down on the ground to peer under his bed.

"Hermione?" he whispered, again feeling slightly ridiculous and unsure of himself. "Come on out, girl. Its okay."

The tawny brown squirrel with the bushiest tail Harry'd ever seen crawled out from under the bed and stood on its hind legs in the middle of his room. Then, as though someone cast an invisible spell on it, it started to grow and transform until finally Hermione appeared, large as life - and completely naked.

Harry was too excited at the transfiguration to notice at first. "Bloody brilliant, Hermione!" he gasped, amazed. Then his face turned pink, and he covered his eyes, swirling to face the wall.

"You're not wearing any clothes," he stuttered, pointing out the obvious.

"Well, I wasn't really sure how the transfiguration was going to work at first," said Hermione. Harry kept his back to her, side-stepping to his wardrobe to pull out a thin robe. He tossed it over his shoulder at her.

"Honestly, Harry," she said while dressing. "Did you have to call to me like I was some kind of pet? Oh, sorry Hedwig - I mean, I'm quite capable of understanding everything while in animagus form, you know." Her voice leaked excitement over her new skill.

"Sorry, Hermione. I wasn't entirely sure it was you, and I felt like a dolt."

"You can turn around now, Harry,"

In the midst of trying to stay alive and battle Voldemort these past months, he hadn't stopped to realize Hermione had become...womanly. He swirled back around, trying to shake off any thoughts still focused on seeing a naked Hermione.

"That was amazing," he beamed, and she returned his smile. "When did you learn how to become an animagus?" Suddenly he was a pinch jealous. "Wait - how did you become one, with the underage use-of-magic laws?"

"See this?" Hermione held up the medallion on her neck. "This is Heliotrope, also called Bloodstone. It's been set in silver, from bullets pulled out of werewolves' bodies." Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's called the Amulet of Sia, and it protects the wearer from being seen by detection spells," she continued. It almost sounded like dark magic to Harry, or perhaps something a certain eccentric conspiracy nut would have. "Mad-eye Moody gave it to me, as I was leaving the train."

Curious, but not unusual, Harry thought. People were always trusting Hermione with these kinds of things.

She took it off and let Harry look at it. The stone looked opaque and green at first, but in the light it turned a deep red hue, almost like blood was swirling beneath the surface.

"He told me it's extremely powerful, and we mustn't tell anyone we have it. It will help us continue with learning defense this summer," Hermione went on. "When Ron wrote me it sounded like the Order would be busy for some time, but I knew you couldn't stay here. I had to do something."

"Listen, about what happened out there," said Harry. "When I saw the cat I got this hunch it had something to do with you. And I hadn't locked Hedwig in her cage."

"She saved my life! That tomcat had been following me for a block." Hermione reached into the cage to give Hedwig a pet. She cooed boastfully. "I didn't choose to be a squirrel you know. You wouldn't believe how hard they have it in cities with all the muggle cars. Anyhow, I think Hedwig knew it was me all along."

Harry thought of all the squirrels he had seen on the road - not alive ones either.

"Why did you go through all that? I thought the Order was going to come for me," Harry asked, realizing Hermione had risked her neck to travel all this way.

"They wanted to. The Order thinks someone's spying on Grimmauld Place. Strange things have been happening, and they couldn't risk someone following them here, to you."

Harry thought about it, the weight resting on him for a moment that the climate of things was turning serious, that a war really was building.

"What did they say when you were able to change?" Harry imagined Lupin would be rather impressed.

Hermione glanced around the room, shrugging. "It's better kept a secret for now."

"Does anyone besides me know?"

"I had to tell Ron of course," she admitted. "And I will register with the Ministry, later. I may need to be in disguise at some point, you know." Harry was surprised at Hermione for skirting around the rules. A pinch of anarchy became her.

"Harry, can you lend me some real clothes? Er, preferably not your cousin's. We have to catch the Knight Bus in ten minutes."

"Good thing I'm packed," Harry replied, pulling out a partial Hogwarts uniform - a boy's uniform. "Uh, here you go."

"All right," Hermione was nonplussed. "Being a squirrel is exhausting! You won't mind if I stay human for our trip to the Burrows?"

Harry grinned. That was exactly where he'd rather be.