Harry Potter and the Ever-Changing Tides

Chapter 1: Secrets and Surprises

Harry woke up all at once, his hair standing up straight, sweat dripping down his face. He'd had a dream that he was in his cupboard again, back at square one, with no magical powers and no friends. And, of course, horrible birthdays which he'd come to dread. After looking at the clock, he confirmed that it was his birthday, and collapsed onto the bed, laughing at how scared he had been. It was true that those days had been horrible, and he never wished to experience them again.

Though he was still living with the horrible Dursleys, he had his friends to help him through, along with the promise of spending the last month of his summer at Hermione's house. It would be his first time ever seeing her home, and Ron's first time living in a Muggle household. No kitchen appliance was safe! Harry giggled at the thought of Ron screaming back at a television, and knew that this was exactly what he'd do. He was leaving for Hermione's the next day, and couldn't be happier to be going.

Harry sauntered over to the window, knowing that it was just a matter of minutes before his birthday cards and presents would arrive by owl messenger. It was a good feeling, being able to have confidence in his friends and in the fact that they'd be there when he was being driven wacky by the overly-Muggle...Muggles. But when no presents came in the next ten minutes, he decided to go downstairs for breakfast and come back up later to see if they'd been delivered while he was gone.

As he came skipping happily down the steps, Harry's bubble was immediately burst by the sight of Vernon Dursley, his mustache looking particularly gruesome, having just woken up. "What are you so happy about?" he yelled suspiciously.

"It's my birthday," Harry answered, very proud of that fact.

"Oh, is it? Well, that's just peachy! I expect you to keep all exploding gifts upstairs!" Harry giggled quietly. Vernon grunted. "And don't think that your birthday is anywhere near an adequate excuse to get out of weeding. Cook breakfast and then head out to the garden. You'll need to replant some of Petunia's flowers, too, since you're leaving tomorrow."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but found it to be pointless. He knew that all arguing with any one of the Dursleys led to was more trouble. Miserably, he walked over to the stove and began cooking bacon, moving as slowly as was humanly possible and wondering whether his gifts had arrived yet. When the bacon was done, he served it and ran upstairs to get his gardening tools. No presents had arrived and no owl was waiting at the window, so he walked back down the stairs to get started with weeding duty.

Harry spent the whole day completing the chores assigned by his cruel relatives, taking breaks only to sip some lemonade and look up at his window for an owl. He didn't receive letters from any of his friends, and by the time dinner rolled around, he was so hot and miserable that he had no appetite. He told the Dursleys that he wasn't hungry and walked slowly up to his room. It would only be one more night before he was finally free, but he wasn't too sure he wanted to go. Harry's friends had forgotten him on his birthday, fully knowing how much having good birthdays meant to him.

With a sigh, Harry shoved his things into his trunk, leaving out only his pajamas and one outfit. He'd just have to go to Hermione's and see what happened. There had to be an explanation behind all this. There had to be a time in everyone's life when a birthday slipped his or her minds. But was it possible for every single friend he had to have just "forgotten" that it was his birthday? One thing was for sure: He was becoming very depressed and wished that he could just hear from his friends. All it had to be was a simple phone call and a "Happy birthday" wish. By ten o'clock, he decided to just go to sleep. Setting his alarm clock, Harry fell asleep soon after his head hit the pillow. He hadn't quite realized how tired he was, but he had been working all day.

The next day, Harry woke up at five so that he could catch the first Stationlink bus to the train station. He was taking the eight o'clock train to Kingston upon Hull, where Hermione lived. The fifteen-year-old boy began pacing back and forth, trying hard to contain his excitement at being about to leave Privet Drive a whole month early. He was, of course, feeling a bit apprehensive about facing two of the friends who had forgotten his special day. I need to let that go, Harry thought, I'm sure they have a perfectly believable excuse for leaving me miserable on my birthday. Though he couldn't think of what that excuse might be, Harry heaved his trunk downstairs and started cooking himself pancakes.

As soon as he reached the kitchen, Aunt Petunia stepped through the doorway, looking slightly disgruntled. Her hair was in what used to be a bun. Some greasy, stringy strands were falling down her neck and onto her face. She really didn't appear to be ready to get up. She fixed a glare on Harry that seemed to say that she was blaming him for her getting up so early. "Do we have to drive you to this freaky witch-girl's house?" she croaked in a whiny voice.

Harry brushed some of his unruly black hair from his eyes and put on the glasses he'd stuck in his pocket before he came downstairs. "Aunt Petunia, do you seriously think that I would choose to be stuck in a car with you, all the way across England? I'm taking the Stationlink bus, and then a train, simply so I can avoid you, Dudley, and Uncle Vernon!"

Poor Petunia Dursley suddenly seemed to be having a hard time closing her mouth after Harry's outburst. She wasn't used to being spoken to that way. To Harry's surprise, however, she simply strutted back up the stairs to get some more sleep.

Harry made and ate his pancakes fairly quickly, and decided to walk down to the bus stop at six o'clock. When he reached the stop, he put his things down next to him and sat on the bench, putting the finishing touches on an essay for Snape on poisons. By the time the paper was completed, and his things packed into his trunk, the six-thirty Stationlink bus came rolling down the road. There were only two other people on the bus, as it was so early, and Harry was the only one at that stop. He walked up the steps and handed the man the money. The driver looked curiously at the owl, but pocketed the money and, with a grunt, permitted Harry to come through.

Harry walked to the sixth seat and sat down. He had always been the type of person to sit in the very middle of a bus. He didn't want to seem like a troublemaker, or the kind of person who thought so much of himself that he should sit in one of the very first seats. Sitting in the middle seemed to be the best way to avoid premature judgments. Then again, how on Earth could a person avoid premature judgments when they were carrying a caged snowy owl? He grinned at Hedwig and looked out the window, watching all the Muggle children enjoy the summer holiday.

It didn't take long for the bus to reach King's Cross Station, and Harry was soon searching for platform five. When he arrived at the platform, he saw that the clock said seven-fifty, giving him just enough time to board the train. He found an empty compartment toward the back of the train and situated his trunk under his seat. Harry pulled out a book he had been reading for entertainment: Night of the Lethifold, and began reading. He quickly became lost in the world of an Auror in training and his very first encounter with a Lethifold. Before he could become bored of the story, it was one o'clock, and he heard the announcement, "We are now arriving at Kingston Station. Please gather your things and prepare to get off the train."

Harry put the book back in his trunk and picked up Hedwig's cage. He stepped off the train and looked around him for Hermione or her parents. Walking toward the parking lot, he finally caught sight of Hermione. And boy was he surprised! She looked very tan, her hair was cut short, falling neatly in curls on her shoulders, and her newly shortened teeth helped her smile to brilliantly accent her face. She was wearing a tank top and a skirt that stopped mid-thigh. Frankly, she was gorgeous. Harry shook himself mentally. Since when did he think of Hermione that way? Those emotions were reserved for Cho. Thinking of Cho, Harry sighed. He was certain that she would never want to date the boy who had inadvertently caused her boyfriend's death. It was Voldemort. I can't let that bother me right now!

Hermione was standing and waving her arms at Harry. He couldn't see anyone else around, nor the vehicle they were driving home in. That worried him, but he just marched over to the pretty girl with the curly brown hair.

"Harry! It's great to see you! It's been so long!" she exclaimed.

Harry laughed. "It's only been a month, but I have missed you. And Ron too!" To his amazement, Hermione kissed him quickly on the lips. Even more to his amazement, Harry wished that her lips had stayed there a bit longer.

"Yes, I've missed you too," Hermione said as if nothing strange had just happened. Harry pretended to have forgotten, and decided to ask her about it at a more appropriate moment.

"Where's the car? Where are your parents? When are you picking up Ron?" he asked, not remembering to breathe.
"Slow down, Harry. We're taking a taxi. You seem to have forgotten exactly how the Muggle world works after all your years at Hogwarts." Harry blushed a bit. Hermione continued. "My parents are at home. With Ron. He came a week ago, remember?"

Harry did remember, and it seemed to bother him for some reason. He was suddenly wondering what might have happened between the two in the week that he wasn't there. He also didn't know why he cared. He trusted Ron not to break her heart if they started dating, and Hermione was just a friend. Or was she? Harry's mind drifted to how beautiful she had looked when he first spotted her in the parking lot. There was also that kiss. She had never kissed him on the lips before, and only once on the cheek, just a few months before.

Harry was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of Hermione calling a taxi. It pulled up to the curb and they stepped inside.

"To 173 Fernleaf Avenue," she said to the driver in a very sophisticated voice. She turned to Harry. "My house is in The Brooks, one of those settlements that attempt to cut themselves off from all civilization. There are too many stuck-up rich people living there, in my opinion. But I was seven when we moved in, so my parents weren't exactly eager to listen to my opinion. Ron was quite intimidated when he saw my home. He told me that it was a bit too fancy. Do I ever agree with him! I simply assured him that his house was much more exciting."

"And you're right," Harry replied. There was a ghoul living in the attic of the Burrow, as Ron's home was called. There were also gnomes in the backyard, dishes that cleaned themselves, and a clock that let you know

where anyone in the family was at any given time. Harry was sure that no Muggle home could be near as exciting as the Burrow.

"Ron and I have actually been writing all summer. You know, so I could give him instructions on how to operate in the Muggle world." She paused for a moment, and looked down, her cheeks coloring a bit. "And, well, I'm beginning wonder whether I don't..." Hermione muttered some inaudible words, and Harry wondered what was bothering her.

"Whether you don't what?" Harry asked softly, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"Of course! It's just...this isn't the kind of thing I should be talking about with you. You're just the only one I can tell about this."

Harry was starting to get discouraged. "Hermione, just tell me. It's all right. Whatever you say, I can understand."

"Fine. I think I might think of Ron as more than a friend. But when I think about how he only just figured out I'm a girl..."

Harry was in shock. He hadn't really thought about how hurt Hermione must have been when Ron had treated the fact that she was a girl like it was a new discovery. But he had never suspected that she would have a crush on Ron! That seemed sort of impossible, considering how beautiful she had become and how she was likely to get almost any guy she wanted. But then, why had she kissed Harry?

"Why did you kiss me then?" Uh, oh! He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Stupid Harry!

"Because I'm your friend. And I could never get you as more than a friend anyway." Hermione was suddenly blushing furiously and covering her face with her hands.

"Hermione. You really are very beautiful. I'm sure either one of us would date you in an instant!" It was Harry's turn to blush now.

"Really? Like you might want to date me?" This conversation wasn't going in the intended direction, but Harry didn't mind. He would love to date Hermione. Not that Ron would like to have a gorgeous girl snatched right from under his extremely freckled nose. It seemed like forever before Harry managed to speak.

"Well, of course I would, Hermione. But, well, I thought you liked Ron."

Hermione looked at her hands, an expression of intense confusion contorting her features. "It sort of hard to explain how I feel, Harry. I had a crush on you in 2^nd year, and gave up soon after, assuming that you'd never like me. I started, at the start of last year, to fixate on Ron. It seemed that it was more likely that he'd like me. Until of course, I discovered how superficial he is. But I still sort of liked him, and was determined to keep trying. And, most of all, to quit thinking about you. That's harder than it may seem, believe me! And today you had to show up, looking so fantastic by the way...and I felt the urge to kiss you and went for it. I'm...I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Harry said simply, putting his hand over Hermione's. She turned her hand over and they laced fingers sitting there blissfully for a few minutes. Then, Harry turned to face her. He mustered every bit of courage he had, and kissed her softly on the lips, staying there for a few seconds before pulling away again.

"So," Hermione whispered, "Does this make us an couple?"

"Yeah, I guess so," came Harry's answer and she squeezed his hand. They sat there for about five minutes, just reflecting. Hermione spoke.

"Have you read the Daily Prophet lately?" she asked. Not waiting for him to answer, she handed him and article that she had clipped out.

RUMOURS OF VOLDEMORT'S RETURN

CLAIMED UNTRUE

Since the end of the Triwizard Tournament and Cedric Diggory's death in June, rumours have been circulating that Lord Voldemort himself murdered the Hufflepuff champion. Albus Dumbledore is steadfast in believing that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returned to power that night. He says that it has been claimed by Harry Potter, the other Hogwarts champion, present at Diggory's death, that You-Know-Who regained his body through a complicated spell including Potter's own blood. Dumbledore also said that You-Know-Who attempted to kill Potter himself, and they engaged in a wizard duel.

This is where I am sure that someone must be fibbing. Dumbledore claims that the events Potter described upon his return sound like Priori Incantatem, due to the fact that they share brother wands. Mr. Ollivander had confirmed that the two wands indeed contain feathers from the same phoenix. Ironically, the phoenix. from which the feathers came belongs to Albus Dumbledore himself. Fawkes only gave two feathers, thus causing Priori Incantatem.

I have spoken to Cornelius Fudge himself, and he has assured me that no such rumours are true. He chalks Diggory's death up to lack of security in the maze at the Tournament and is conducting a thorough investigation of the Department of Magical Games and Sports before worrying about something as far-fetched as the return of the Dark Lord. He encourages the magical world to please not panic, and if conditions change, he will notify us immediately.

Harry took in a breath as he finished reading. It was obvious that Fudge cared about nothing other than his own career. He had no intention of taking action against Voldemort if doing so would put the wizarding world in panic, tarnishing his public image. That meant that no one was safe as long as he had the position of Minister of Magic. There was still Dumbledore, he reminded himself. Indeed, the headmaster had many plans to defeat the Dark Lord, including an alliance with the giants.

"Well, there's not much we can do just yet, is there?" he asked Hermione looking into her frightened eyes.

"I guess so. But do you think he'll have us students helping? The older ones I mean?" Hermione suddenly seemed very scared.

"The prefects, I suppose. And we could suggest that the school creates another dueling club, one with only the star duelers. And the house elves. They have a lot of magic, and I'm convinced they might be able to help! If they'd agree to it. One's like Winky certainly wouldn't. We can just present our ideas in a letter and help with what we can." Harry wasn't sure exactly what they could find to help with, but he would take it one step at a time.

Suddenly Hermione tapped Harry. "This is it," she whispered. They had just stopped in front of a huge three-story home. It was pale green, with dark green on the shutters and roof. Harry was shocked at the size, considering that there were only three people living there. Hermione seemed to read his mind.

"Kingston Community Center has many dentist conventions. Lots of the dentists come to stay here. Hence the spare rooms. That's a good thing, I guess, as I might have Ginny come join us later on."

Hermione paid the taxi driver, and they walked up to the house. She opened the door and found that it was dark inside. She flipped on the light switch.

"SURPRISE!" Harry heard everyone yell. It seemed that all his friends at Hogwarts were in that room, ready to wish him a happy birthday. It seemed clear now why he'd gotten no presents, and he felt stupid that he'd never thought of that.

"Did you think we'd forgotten you, Harry?" Ron asked, coming over to pat him heartily on the back. Ginny was also there, blushing furiously, too nervous to talk to him. She did however hand him a gift, which he found to be a beautiful silver chain. He glanced at Hermione, who nodded her approval, before putting it on, grinning at Ginny with thanks. There was also Seamus, Dean, Neville, Lavender, and the rest of the Weasleys.

"Harry, I'd like to talk to you for a minute," Ron said, leading him into what looked like a kitchen. Harry hoped that nothing was wrong by the look on his best friend's face.

"What's going on, Ron?" he asked.

"Hermione. Haven't you noticed how gorgeous she is? She's been treating me differently since I got here, and I think she might feel the same way. I'm going to go for it."

Harry was startled. He hadn't thought that Ron had felt the same way toward Hermione. And what would he say now that they were together?

"About that..." Harry started, but soon decided that he and Hermione should break the news together. "Never mind," he mumbled, and soon he was saved by Fred Weasley telling them that it was time to open presents.

He got many interesting things. The Weasley twins gave him The Original Weasley Wizard Wheezes Prank Kit. The kit included a recipe book, and everything from stink bomb to non-exploding luminous balloons. Neville Longbottom had given him a Remenbrall, as if Harry needed it. Dean and Seamus had pooled their money to buy Harry a broomstick engraving kit so that he'd never lose his Firebolt. Ron had given Harry a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and owl treats for Hedwig. Last, but not least, Hermione had given him a photo album of all the pictures that Colon Creevey had taken of Harry playing Quidditch.

They ate cake and chatted until about ten o'clock, when everyone except he and Ron returned to their respective homes. Harry was so tired when everyone left, but felt very content. Hermione's mother walked in to arrange beds.

"Okay. You and Ron will both have your own rooms until Ginny gets here in a week or two. At that point, someone may have to share, because we may also have a few dentists staying with us. We'll jump those bridges as they come, though. Harry, I'll take you up to your room. Hermione, you can take Ron."

Mrs. Granger directed a wink at Hermione, and Harry came to the conclusion that Hermione must have told her mother that she like Ron, but hadn't informed her of her recent change of heart. Harry picked up all his bags and prepared for the trek to the third floor.

The Granger home had two staircases. One was a back staircase, which you could only access from the kitchen. There was also a front staircase with very white carpet, which seemed to be for show only. Mrs. Granger led Harry into the kitchen and up the back staircase to his room on the third floor. It was fairly large, with a wardrobe and a chest of drawers.

"Harry, dear, you can use the chest of drawers for your things. Ron might be moving in, like I said, so you should keep the wardrobe open."

Harry nodded and threw his bag onto the bed. Mrs. Granger left and he collapsed into the pillows. It had been a fairly good day, and he now found himself thinking about his wonderful new girlfriend. Her brains, her beauty, and her promise of a more appropriate gift were now filling his mind with thoughts and fantasies, which he'd never thought he'd have about Hermione.

Harry shook his head and stood up to put his things away. There was enough room in the chest of drawers for everything he'd brought, and then some. I was a good feeling, knowing that he'd be spending the next month living like a normal teenage boy, with a normal home and a normal girlfriend. He was thinking about Hermione again. How fitting, as that was who walked through the door the next moment.

"Harry, we need to talk about Ron," she said immediately, looking frazzled. "He tried to...to make a move on me when I was settling him into his room!"

Harry was shocked. "He did? I'll kill him!"

"No, don't. I was just telling you to let you know that he apparently has less-than-platonic feelings toward me. And perhaps we should let him know about our relationship fairly soon..."

"Well, I could tell him, if you like," Harry suggested, putting his arm around her.

"No. We have to tell him together. I'm just worried about how he'll take it."

"Don't worry, Hermione. It'll all work out." Harry kissed her warmly on the lips before she left. He grinned, happily lying down on his bed. Hermione was perfect in every way.

The next afternoon, Harry and Hermione managed to get Ron alone in the parlor, but Harry soon wished they hadn't. He had no idea how this was going to sound, how Ron was going to react. Hermione took a deep breath as she looked at Ron, Harry at her side.

"I, er, um, we need to tell you something..." she stuttered.

To Harry's surprise, Ron looked hopeful. He thinks she's going to tell him she likes him, Harry thought. This is going to be bad, really bad. Neither Harry, nor Hermione could squeak a syllable out of their mouths. Instead, Ron chose to speak.

"What, Hermione, you too having love troubles that you need advice about?" he said sarcastically.

"Well, this conversation is about love..." Hermione choked out.

Oh, good one, Hermione, thought Harry. Now he's really going to thing she likes him!

"Ron...HermioneandIaredating!" Harry exclaimed all at once. Ron stared at him quizzically.

"Harry I and have started dating, Ron," Hermione said, as calmly as she could.

Ron moved his moth soundlessly, looking a bit like a goldfish. Harry noticed that his fists were clenched and wondered if he should be worried.