Just Plain Harry

Chapter 27 Valentine's Day

Harry awoke on Ginny's birthday already nervous. He was regretting his decision to send her presents to her through the owl post, but he hadn't wanted to make her feel uncomfortable by forcing her to respond to him right after he'd given them to her. Now, though, the thought of her dormmates seeing her birthday present made him feel slightly queasy.

Thinking of the flowers wasn't much better. He'd asked Hermione what Ginny's favorite flowers were, and, after she'd stared at him intently for a moment, she's replied, "dusky, wild roses." He hadn't been able to get another word out of her, even when he'd said that that didn't really tell him much. He'd finally gone to Miss Stuart for help, since she already knew about his feelings for Ginny. The flowers she'd showed him in the catalogue from her favorite florist didn't even really look like roses to him, but Miss Stuart said that they were what Hermione meant.

"They're Welsh, I think," she'd said. "And I'm a little surprised that Ginny likes them so much."

"Why?" he'd asked.

Miss Stuart had looked at him, a small, condescendingly affectionate smile on her face. "Because they're pink," she'd said.

It still hadn't made any sense to Harry, but he accepted her superior knowledge of girls. Just as he'd had to accept Hermione's knowledge of what Ginny would want.

Maybe he just shouldn't go down to breakfast. After all, Ginny would receive the gifts just the same, even if he weren't there. He could ask Dobby to fetch him some breakfast up here, and then sneak down to Potions. Or, on second thought, he could just hide out here for the rest of the day.

"Harry Potter is rising and shining now, sir!"

Harry had barely enough time to pull the bedcovers over his head before Dobby swept the bedcurtains aside, and sunlight poured over him. He really was going to kill Dobby one of these days, and Dean, too, for good measure. One morning, after even a strenuous Quidditch practice hadn't stopped him from having yet another sleepless night chasing thoughts around and around in his mind, he'd been more than usually difficult for Dobby to move from the bed. Dean had suddenly poked his head through the curtains, and said, "Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" This had had the desired effect of making Harry sit up, because he couldn't believe Dean had said it. Unfortunately, Dobby had taken the idea as his own, and had been coming up with a new variation every morning.

Harry groaned, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up, trying to ignore Dobby's usual morning chatter. It took him some time before he realized that the other usual morning chatter - Dean, Seamus, and Neville's - wasn't evident this morning. Looking around, he spotted Dean and Seamus in the corner near Seamus' trunk, bent over something.

"She's going to hate it, Dean," Seamus said, looking like he wanted to put whatever it was back in the trunk and lock it away.

"Don't worry," Dean said, punching him in the shoulder. "She won't." He turned around, noticed Harry looking at them, and rolled his eyes at his best friend. Harry couldn't help but grin, though he did wonder what Seamus was giving Lavender.

Neville, he knew, was sending Hannah a huge bouquet of flowers, all of which he'd grown in the greenhouses under the supervision of Professor Sprout, and all of which had meaning. Harry knew this, because Neville explained it to everyone who would sit still long enough, as many times as they would sit still long enough. He was glad his friend was happy, but he wished Neville wouldn't tell him every detail.

Ron, on the other hand, hadn't told him a thing. Well, he'd told him that, since Christmas had wiped him out, he couldn't afford to buy anything for Hermione for Valentine's Day. Harry had wanted to offer to lend him some money, but the look in Ron's eyes stopped him. He wished he could somehow break through to Ron; he would gladly share his fortune with his best friend - after all, Ron had shared his family, and Harry could never repay that. So, Ron had decided to make Hermione something, and Harry had assured him that she would love whatever it was. She would, too, he knew.

The five boys made their way down to the common room, Seamus with a package hidden underneath his robes. As Harry walked down the stairs, he saw Lee present Alicia with an enormous bouquet of flowers. Alicia held it at arms length for a moment, staring at it suspiciously, while Lee looked on, a hurt expression on his face. Finally, Alicia appeared satisfied that nothing was going to come shooting out of the flowers, and held them up to her face. She took one sniff, then recoiled, her face screwed up in disgust.

"Lee Jordan! What have you done to those flowers?" she shrieked.

"I thought you liked the smell of butterbeer," Lee said, though he was having a hard time containing his laughter.

"Not for flowers!" Alicia said, and whacked him over the head with the flowers. They fell apart, revealing a small, velvet covered box. "Oh..."

The fifth year boys reached the bottom step to find Lavender and Parvati waiting for them, but no Hermione, and no Ginny. Lavender pounced on Seamus, and dragged him into a corner, while Parvati grinned at the rest of them.

"Hermione is still upstairs, Ron," she said, "and Ginny has already gone down to the Great Hall."

Harry really didn't want to know if she had directed that last statement towards him or Dean. "Let's go down, then," he said, not really caring if Parvati thought he was eager to see Ginny. He was.

"You go," Ron said. He hadn't taken his eyes off of the girls' staircase, and he didn't seem to notice Crookshanks rubbing up against his legs. "Only, I think I'll wait for Hermione."

The other four exchanged grins, and climbed out of the portrait hole. Before they reached the Great Hall, Harry worried that it would look the way it had his second year, even though he knew that had been Lockhart's fault. Everyone just seemed more aware of Valentine's Day this year. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw everything looking completely normal.

Well, normal except for at least triple the usual amount of owls. They swooped in, spotted their targets, and dove towards the tables, completely ruining any semblance of a normal breakfast. Harry watched, fascinated anew at the wizard post. It really was amazingly efficient. As the four of them made their way over to the Gryffindor table, Harry spotted Ginny. She seemed to be keeping her face deliberately on her food, since she couldn't be that absorbed in breakfast, what with the pandemonium that existed around her. Harry tried to remember if the atmosphere had been this raucous last year, but all he could remember of Valentine's Day breakfast the year before was trying to ignore Cho and Cedric, and a long Quidditch conversation with Ron. Looking over at the Ravenclaw table, he saw an owl land in front of Cho, and watched her remove several white flowers from the holder attached to its leg. Then, she looked up at the boy who sat opposite her - Harry couldn't see who it was, because the boy's back was to him - and shook her head, but Harry could see her smile from clear across the room. He was glad that she seemed happy.

By this time, they had reached places at the table, and no sooner had they sat down than five owls landed in front of Parvati. She smiled happily as she removed their burdens, petting and feeding each one before sending them off again. Harry watched as she opened the cards and presents, but then his attention was distracted by Neville turning bright red and covering his face with his hands. That's when he noticed the huge bouquet of flowers three owls were delivering to the Hufflepuff table. This was yet another thing that wizards did better than Muggles, he thought. He remembered how, on the few times Uncle Vernon had bought Aunt Petunia roses, she'd had to fuss with them so that they'd live even a few days. But a few simple charms took care of that. He dug an elbow in Neville's ribs.

"I think you should look over there, mate," he said. "Did you really think she wouldn't like them?"

Neville took his face out of his hands, and waved back at Hannah. "No, but...she might have thought they were a bit much."

"Trust me, Neville," Parvati said, removing the burden from yet another owl, "no girl would think a bouquet of flowers a bit much."

Just then, Ron and Hermione showed up, both looking a bit pink and extremely happy. As Harry moved over to make room, he asked, "Where's Seamus and Lavender?"

"Aren't they with you?" Hermione asked. When everybody shook their heads, she added, "Well, they weren't in the common room..." She trailed off and looked uncertain. "Do you suppose I should...I mean, I am a prefect..."

"No," Dean said.

"Definitely not," Ron added, and Harry saw Neville shudder. That was enough for Hermione.

"I think you're right," she said, and reached for the pumpkin juice.

Harry turned back to his breakfast, but was interrupted by the arrival of another owl. He pushed it over to Parvati.

"Erm, Harry, I think you might want to open this yourself," she said, pushing it back. That's when Harry noticed his name, in writing he recognized, on the envelope. He almost knocked over the pitcher of pumpkin juice grabbing for the owl. After he removed the small package and envelope, and sent the owl on its way, he just sat there for a moment, not opening anything. Ginny had sent him something for Valentine's Day. He couldn't believe it - he certainly hadn't expected it - and he just wanted to enjoy the fact for a moment.

"Aren't you going to open it, Harry?" Hermione asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He looked up at her and saw understanding on her face, but he saw impatience, too. She probably knew exactly what was in it. He smiled at her, and opened the envelope first.

Harry,

Thank you.

Ginny.

He stared at the note for a moment. She couldn't be thanking him for his gift, because she hadn't received it yet. He sneaked a look at her out of the corner of his eye, and saw that an owl had landed in front of her, but the flowers she was removing from it were white. Probably Dean, he thought, and then tried to clamp down on the wave of jealousy that threatened to overwhelm him. He had no right to be jealous of Dean sending her flowers. He stared back down at Ginny's note until he felt Hermione nudge him. She leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Trust me, Harry, you want to open the present," she said.

So he did, but then he just stared at it, because he had no idea what it was. Well, he could see that it was a very small, absolutely clear ball attached to a short silver chain, with a clip on the other end of the chain. He held it up, watching the play of light in the ball as he twisted it, and then looked questioningly over at Hermione, who had a happy grin plastered on her face.

"It's a watch fob, Harry," she said quietly. Luckily, everyone else was absorbed in watching Parvati receive yet another owl and ignoring them. "You attach it to the chain of your pocket watch."

Harry drew in his breath sharply. Ginny had given him something to go along with the watch his mum had given his dad. He pulled out the pocket watch, his hands almost shaking, very careful not to open the watch, because he certainly didn't want Hermione to see what it would say right then. She had to help him clip the fob onto the watch, anyway. When they were done, Harry looked over at Ginny, hoping that he could convey his gratitude from across the room. He caught her eye, held up the watch, and then held it to his chest, not caring who was looking. He was rewarded by her lit-from-within smile, which he hadn't seen since before Christmas. Then, she held up his flowers, and the hair clip he'd sent her, and did the same thing. They must have been delivered while he was opening her present.

Suddenly, there was a hand waving furiously in front of his face.

"Oi, Potter," Ron said, sounding like he was having a hard time containing his laughter. "I don't need your watch to tell us that we're almost late for Potions right now."

Harry reluctantly withdrew his gaze from Ginny, giving her a small wave before he did. She waved back, and then they both turned away to start the day.

The first thing out of Snape's mouth as he swept into the classroom was a snide order to the girls to remove the flowers from their hair. The next thing was even better, when Pansy showed some reluctance to do so.

"Miss Parkinson, kindly show the brains that would be a credit to your house," he snapped, making the Gryffindors snicker. The class had gone downhill from there, though, as Snape's mood was evidently tied to the day, and Gryffindor ended the class by being fifty points down. The rest of the day went more smoothly, though Harry didn't know where to look when Professor Flitwick taught them the theory of the Wand-binding Charm performed at weddings. He'd also been hard put not to laugh when Professor Trelawney predicted that his true love would come from a large family. He caught even Parvati rolling her eyes at that.

All in all, the day hadn't been bad, but he was definitely looking forward to seeing Ginny in their Auror training class, last thing in the afternoon. He practically ran into the usual room, hoping that she was already there, and completely unprepared for what he saw. She was sitting on one of the desks, holding hands with Dean.

Harry was back out the door and leaning up against the wall in the corridor before he drew breath again. All right, Potter, he told himself, think through this logically. Let's make Hermione proud. She wasn't really holding hands with him, it was almost as though she was holding him off. And she was wearing your flowers in her hair, held there by your hair clip. He was almost certain that she'd seen him, too, though he knew Dean hadn't, and she hadn't dropped Dean's hands, or made any indication that she was doing something wrong. And she wasn't - Ginny had every right to hold hands with whomever she wanted. Most importantly, though, he knew Ginny, and he knew that she wouldn't lead on either him or Dean. The sight of the two of them with clasped hands might be imprinted on his eyelids, but he'd just have to live with that.

"Harry, why are you waiting out here? Is something wrong?"

Harry turned his head to look at Hermione, who he hadn't realized was standing next to him until she spoke. Ron stood next to her, looking equally worried.

"Nothing's wrong - Ginny's talking to Dean in there, so I thought I'd wait out here."

Before either Ron or Hermione could say anything, Dean walked out the door.

"Hey Ron, Hermione," he said, then stopped. "Harry," he said after a moment. He held Harry's gaze steadily, and Harry could almost feel the thoughts passing from Dean to him. Treat her right. Make her happy. He nodded, not breaking the eye contact, and Dean gave him a small smile before turning and walking away. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, not sure what to say, but he was saved the trouble.

"I don't want to know," Ron said, before walking into the classroom. Hermione just smiled at Harry, and followed Ron.

Harry followed them both, his eyes seeking Ginny's as soon as he entered the room. She smiled at him, but didn't say anything, and Harry sat down at his desk and pulled out his wand, in preparation for the lesson. It's amazing, he thought, how just a smile from her makes me so happy. Then, Professor Moody thumped into the room, and all he could think about was the best sequence of charms and hexes needed to break through Moody's guard.

After the class, Harry headed off to the Great Hall for dinner with Ron and Hermione, still thinking about the lesson. He hadn't even come close to breaking through Moody's guard - none of them had. Of course, that was only to be expected, since Moody had been one of the Ministry's top Aurors, and probably still would be, if he were still on active duty. But it worried Harry. How would they ever be able to defeat Death Eaters, let alone Voldemort, if they could barely land a single hex on Moody? Even working together, he, Ron and Hermione hadn't touched him. The only people who had had been Fred and George, working together. Harry suspected that they were slightly telepathic with each other, which was wonderful - he just wished they could teach other people how to do it.

"Ground to Harry!"

"You're saying it wrong - it's 'Earth to Harry.'"

"All right - earth to Harry! Come in, Harry. Did I get that part right, Hermione?"

"Yes, that's right. Where are you, Harry?"

Harry stopped. "Are you teaching Ron Muggle slang, Hermione?"

"Well, Muggle slang from five years ago. I'm not exactly up on the current catch-phrases. Anyway, where were you? Pluto?"

"Sorry. Just thinking about the lesson. Why?"

"Because if you walk through the halls that out of it, you'll probably run into Snape," Ron said, then snorted when Harry looked around reflexively. "No, he's not here, but with your luck, you probably would. Besides, I wanted to ask you something. Did you give Ginny the flowers in her hair?"
Harry quickly looked away from Ron, meeting Hermione's gaze with a pleading look. She just shrugged and smiled at him.

"Erm...yeah?" he finally said.

"Did you give her the hair thingy, too?"

Harry sighed. He'd known that this would be a problem. "Yeah."

"You gave my sister a claddaugh?"

All right, that wasn't what he'd been expecting. A question about the price, he'd expected. As he floundered in confusion, Hermione spoke.

"Ron, I thought you were all right with Harry and Ginny."

"Yeah, but that was before he gave her a claddaugh! D'you know what it means?"

"Of course I know what it means, Ron! What I don't know is why it's a bad thing that Harry gave her one."

Harry decided that it was a good time to interrupt the argument. "I know what it means, too," he said. "The crown stands for loyalty, and the hands for friendship - are you saying that Ginny doesn't have either of those from me?"

"What about the heart, Harry?"

"It's not a ring, Ron," he said. "It's a hair clip."

Whatever Ron planned to say was disrupted by Hermione suddenly whooping with laughter. They walked off down the corridor, Ron shaking his head and supporting Hermione as they went. Harry started to follow.

"Harry?"
He turned immediately at the sound of Ginny's voice. She stood a little way away from him, with Brenna behind her. He thought he saw Brenna make shooing motions with her hands at Ginny, but if she did, Ginny didn't see them, because she didn't look at anything but Harry as she walked towards him.

"Thank you for the flowers, Harry," she said, as soon as she was close enough to speak quietly. "They're absolutely perfect - how did you know?"

Harry looked down at his feet. He wanted to say that he'd come up with the idea all by himself, but.... "I asked Hermione."
"Oh."

Harry sneaked a glance at her, and saw that she looked a little disgruntled. Then she shook her head, as though clearing it of some unwanted thought, and smiled at him.

"That was really sweet of you," she said. "And I really love the..." She trailed off, and motioned to the claddaugh hair clip with her hand.

"I...hope it wasn't too much," Harry said.

"No, no, not too much," Ginny said. Her eyes fixed for a moment on the pendant that he still wore on top of his robes, and then flew up to meet his with a sudden, almost burning intensity. Then she dropped her gaze again and took a deep breath. "Harry, I'm sorry about earlier, with Dean. I...he gave me some flowers, too, and I wanted to explain to him..." She trailed off again, and, in a swift motion, pressed her hands to her eyes.

"Ginny, you have nothing to be sorry about," Harry said. "If anything, I'm the one who should apologize. You said you wanted distance, and I haven't really given you that." He was reaching up to touch the clip in her hair, when she removed her hands from his eyes, and her right one met his. She gasped, and he almost did, too, at the jolt of electricity that he felt when he touched her hand. They stood there for another moment, staring at each other, then they each took a deep breath and a step backwards.

"I just...I don't want you to think..." Ginny said, then suddenly laughed. "This is silly, isn't it? Dean and I...we're just friends."

Even though he'd known that already, Harry felt his heart leap when she said it. Before he could say anything, though, he heard a sneering voice that he knew all too well.

"Weasley, you couldn't clash any more if you tried."

Ginny stiffened all over, and turned to face Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin stood a few feet away, leaning up against the wall. Harry cursed himself for having been so wrapped up in Ginny that Malfoy had been able to sneak up that close. Some Auror I am, he thought. He wondered how much Malfoy had heard.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ginny asked, sounding as though her teeth were clenched together.

He pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over to them.

"I'm just trying to understand why you're wearing those vile pink flowers, when you were given some elegant, tasteful, and above all, complimentary white violets," he said. "Who had the excrable taste to give you those?"

"Harry did," Ginny said.

"Ah," Malfoy said, not even glancing at Harry, who was beginning to see red. "Weasley, pity is not an acceptable reason for you to wear pink flowers in your hair."

Ginny gasped. "How dare you?" she said, stepping in between a rigid Harry and Malfoy. "If you must know, these are my favorite flowers, and I think Harry showed wonderful taste to give them to me."

"Well, then you're the one with the excrable taste," he said, finally glancing at Harry before fixing his eyes once more on Ginny. "Really, Weasley, coming from your family, you just shouldn't throw away opportunities like this."

That was enough for Harry. He'd been holding himself back, knowing that Ginny would want to handle this herself, and that she could, but that was too much. He launched himself at Malfoy, finally understanding Ron's desire to use his bare hands, instead of going for his wand, every time Malfoy insulted Hermione. Before he'd done more than grab the Slytherin by his robes, though, he heard Professor McGonagall's voice echoing down the corridor.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, what is happening here?"

Harry let go of Malfoy, still shaking with anger. He felt Ginny's hand on his arm, and he took a few deep breaths to try to calm down. Next to him, Malfoy didn't seem at all ruffled, though he did smooth down his robes in a deliberate manner.

McGonagall hardly seemed to notice, even though she said, "Fighting is not allowed in the corridors, you both know that. Five points from both of your houses."

Harry stared at her. Five? She'd taken twenty each from Ron and Malfoy just last week, for the exact same thing. And if there was one thing McGonagall was, it was scrupulously fair. He thought he saw compassion, of all strange things, in her eyes.

"Mr. Potter, the Headmaster wishes to see you now," she said, before turning and leading the way down the corridor.

"But, Professor," Harry said, not moving. He didn't want to leave Ginny alone with Malfoy.

"I'll be fine, Harry," Ginny said. She glanced at McGonagall, who had stopped and was motioning Harry to follow her. "I wonder..."

"Wonder what, Ginny?" Harry said.

"Never mind. You'll find out, whatever it is." She gazed up at him, a question in her eyes, and he nodded at her.

"Of course I'll tell you, whatever it is," he said, before turning and practically jogging to meet McGonagall. The last thing he heard as they turned the corner was Malfoy.

"Isn't that sweet - does he tell you everything? I'm not sure I'd want to hear everything Potter has to say."

Harry deliberately put him out of his mind. Ginny could take care of herself. Remembering the Yule Ball, he chuckled to himself. She certainly could.

"What's this about, Professor?" he asked, when he finally dragged his thoughts away from Ginny.

"The Headmaster will tell you that, Mr. Potter," she said firmly. "Here we are. Everlasting Gobstoppers."

When Harry reached the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, studying his hands, which were clasped together in front of him.

"Ah, Harry," he said, looking up with an unreadable expression in his eyes. "Do come in and sit down." However, once Harry did so, Dumbledore didn't say anything else. He just continued to study Harry, who felt as though he were in a Muggle lab experiment.

Suddenly, it was too much for him. He had no idea why Dumbledore had called him here, but, now that he was here, he decided to ask him something that had been bothering him for awhile.

"Sir, why did Hagrid die?"

For the first time that Harry had ever known, the Headmaster removed his half-moon spectacles and polished them. Continuing to watch his hands, Dumbledore said, "I'm not certain I know what you mean, Harry."

"Why did he die? There must be a better reason than that the giants didn't trust him."

At that, Dumbledore put back on his spectacles and looked keenly at Harry. "Why must there be?"

"Because there just has to be! Because Hagrid couldn't have died for no reason - not Hagrid!" Harry felt his hands shaking, and he clutched the arms of the chair to still them.

"Harry, sometimes people just die."

"But Hagrid didn't just die, he was killed!"

"Sometimes people are just killed. Not everything has a bigger meaning, some things are just senseless."

"So, Hagrid died a senseless death? How could you have let it happen?

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, I am not omnipotent. Nor omniscient, though I'd rather you didn't repeat that outside of this office." He stopped, and smiled at Harry, but Harry didn't smile back. "Believe me, if I could have foreseen what happened, I never would have asked Hagrid to be an envoy. And yet, because of him, the giants have not joined Voldemort, and still might not. Is that reason enough for his death? I do not know, but I do know what Hagrid would have said."

Harry felt his eyes burn, and he swallowed around a huge lump in his throat. He dropped his eyes to his lap, not wanting the Headmaster to see them, and not wanting to see the tears in Dumbledore's eyes. A few minutes passed in silence, while Harry thought about Hagrid - the type of person he'd been, and how he would feel knowing that his death might actually help people. Then he remembered that he hadn't come to the Headmaster's office to talk about Hagrid.

"Sir, why did you call me here?"
Dumbledore looked searchingly at Harry for a moment before speaking, but apparently what he saw satisfied him. "Harry, I have some grave news for you. Earlier this evening, Death Eaters attacked your uncle's home. Your Uncle Vernon was killed."

Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It wasn't Sirius or Remus, which was what he'd been afraid of as soon as he'd heard the summons. And he couldn't honestly say that he felt too sorry - in fact, he wasn't quite sure how he should feel. He looked at Dumbledore, to see the Headmaster watching him closely.

"Sir," he said, not wanting to lower Dumbledore's opinion of him, but not wanting to lie, either, "I can't pretend to feel...well, devastated about this. They were not very good to me. I didn't wish them dead, but I..." He trailed off, not really wanting to say what he felt.

"I understand, Harry," Dumbledore said. "In some ways, I blame myself that you cannot feel sorrow at a relative's death. But, Harry, why do you say they? I only mentioned your Uncle Vernon."

"Of course, Dudley's at school, too, isn't he? Who...who's going to tell him?" He really didn't want to be the one, and he strongly suspected that Dudley wouldn't want him to do it, either.
"Well, that will depend a great deal on you." Luckily, Dumbledore didn't wait for Harry to remark on that before continuing, because Harry didn't understand. "Your Aunt Petunia was not in the house during the attack, as well, and is actually down in the Infirmary."

"Why, if she wasn't in the house during the attack?"

"Your aunt was out shopping when the Death Eaters arrived. When she reached home again, it was a pile of rubble, with the Dark Mark floating above it." Harry was reminded of Ginny's vision. "Professor Figg and Sirius, along with two Aurors, were also there."

"Sir, if there were Aurors there, why didn't they stop the attack?"

"Unfortunately, they did not arrive until too late. Harry, I believe you are aware of the Ministry's official position on Voldemort."

"They don't believe he's back," Harry muttered.

"That's right. Thus, they don't take warnings of Death Eater attacks very seriously, even when the warnings come from a Seer. Fortunately, I do have some influence, and many Aurors have listened. However, I was not able to arrange for twenty-four hour supervision of Privet Drive, though we did have alarm wards around the house. The Death Eaters tore through them easily, of course, but they did let us know what happened."

Harry sighed. Sometimes, he almost thought he hated Fudge more than Voldemort. At least Voldemort was actively trying to do evil.

"What did Aunt Petunia do, when she came home to a destroyed house?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for the first time since Harry entered the room. "According to Sirius, she let out a wild, high-pitched screetch, and started attacking him."

"Why? She couldn't have actually recognized him - she didn't when he was on the news when he escaped from Azkaban."

"Sirius looked very different than he had when she last saw him, when he was on the news," Dumbledore said, and Harry agreed, remembering when he had compared Sirius' wanted poster with the picture taken at his parents' wedding. "At any event," Dumbledore continued, "Sirius decided that since she was hysterical, and since he didn't know where else to take her, he would bring her here, so she is down in the Infirmary under Madam Pomfrey's care."

Harry didn't know what to think. Aunt Petunia hadn't been terrible to him this past summer, but he still didn't know if he wanted her at Hogwarts. Dumbledore seemed to see some of this in his face.

"Harry, I know this won't be easy for you," he said. "I do hope, though, that you don't try to feel emotions you are not really feeling. Don't feel guilty, or ungrateful, because you might not feel the traditional signs of grief. Emotions are complicated things, and families, even more so."

Harry nodded. "Should I go down to the Infirmary to see her, sir?"

"Yes, and I know Sirius would like to speak with you as well. One more thing before you go, however. It appears, from the little that your aunt said coherently, that your uncle had been speculating wildly, and unfortunately, lately."

"Speculating?"

"With his money, Harry. Your aunt appears to think that she is...broke." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore put up a hand to stop him. "We will, of course, look into this. But, if it is true...Harry, you are your aunt and your cousin's nearest relative. If they are destitute, you are all they have."