Harry Potter and the Summer of Discovery

Chpt. 5. Wasting Some Time to Move the Plot Along

"Boy! Get downstairs! NOW!"

Harry's eyes shot open at the thunderous voice cooming from downstairs, wondering vaguely if he had forgotten to shut off the television before he realized that it was Monday morning, the day that his aunt, uncle, and cousin came back from their little mini-vacation. Well, it was nice living in a quiet house for a few days...

"Yes?" asked Harry, rubbing his eyes and not bothering to hide his irritation.

"You've been warned about leaving your freakish literature lying around the house," snarled Uncle Vernon, pointing a fat finger in Harry's face and barely brushing his nose.

"What are you-" Harry began to retort until he saw that he had forgotten to pick up yesterday's copy of the Daily Prophet from the coffee table. Damn Harry, how could you be so stupid?, he thought to himself. He had been so disturbed by Xander's drinking binge that the newspaper had completely slipped his mind. He vaguely recalled returning to the house last night, crawling into bed, and staring out the bedroom window for hours clutching onto his Yin-Yang charm from Cho wondering all the while if the Chinese symbol would ever bring balance to his life. Apparently, balance meant that both sides of your brain hurt instead of just one.

"Sorry... completely forgot... irresponsible of me..." muttered Harry through several yawns.

"You're damn right it's irresponsible of you," said Uncle Vernon. "We had an agreement. The house was supposed to be in the exact condition upon arrival as when we left. Last I checked, I don't read freak papers."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled again, tucking the paper under his arm and making for the stairs. He really wasn't feeling up for an argument this morning.

"We're not finished here," called Uncle Vernon, gripping Harry's shoulder and spinning him back around.

Visions of Uncle Vernon inflating and floaing about the Living Room drifted through Harry's mind, probably the only thing that kept his temper under control. Accidental magic certainly wouldn't aid his cause right about now. Managing to keep from stabbing his uncle in the eyes with a pen but unable to stop his hands from shaking slightly, he held Uncle Vernon's gaze.

"Seeing's how the rest of the house is in satisfactory condition, I will not dock your boarding fee. I'm not an unreasonable man," said Uncle Vernon, and Harry didn't bother trying to hold back a snort. "However, the garden hasn't been touched in a week, and you may do your aunt the favor of weeding it for her."

"Thank you for the priveledge," snapped Harry. "It'll be done as soon as I get home from work this evening."

"Oh, yes it will," said Uncle Vernon, a mischievious glint in his eyes. "I'll be back from the train station at seven-thirty this evening. See to it that it's done for our company."

"Yes, sir." Harry began his trip upstairs again.

"I'm glad we agree on this," said Uncle Vernon, now unable to hold back his grin. "You know how Marge feels about an untidy yard..."

Harry froze in his tracks. Marge? As in... "Aunt Marge is coming to visit this week?"

"No," said Uncle Vernon, though the evil smirk never left his face. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. But what other Marge did he know? "She is coming to visit for the next two weeks."

Good Lord I hate you, thought Harry. He though of Uncle Vernon's liver shriveling up like a prune, a flesh-eating bacteria eating off his face, spontaneous combustion. C'mon, thought Harry, Concentrate harder. At least a bloody nose...

"I'm off to the office. Your Aunt and cousin will be gone for the day as well, seeing's how they need to visit to market for groceries. I expect-" Uncle Vernon stopped suddenly and began to wipe his nose, checking his fingers every now and then. "Odd," he muttered, "Thought my nose was bleeding for a second there..." Harry grinned inwardly. "Have the yard ready by the time I see you again," gumbled Uncle Vernon as he closed the door, still wiping his nose.

Finally, Harry was able to return to his bedroom, noticing on the way that he had been sweating so badly during his confrontation with Uncle Verno that some of the ink had rubbed off on his side. He rubbed furiously at his ribcage in an attempt to remove at least some of the ink, but all that did was give the print a pink background.

"Everything that they can do, and they still can't invent an ink that doesn't stain," complained Harry as he entered the room, chucking the paper on top of his wardrobe.

"Meow," came a seductive voice.

If not for his ribcage, his heart surely would have jumped out of his chest and be flopping on the floor this very second. "Stop doing that!" he scolded Kat.

"Actually, since you're half-naked every time I come in here, I might make it a habit," she said in return. "Who's Aunt Marge?"

"My aunt," said Harry shortly, severely annoyed at her intrusion, both into his room and into his personal life. He was still upset with her for disappearing since that afternoon on his birthday.

"Duh," retorted Kat. She crossed her legs again and leaned back on her elbows, apparently not ready to go anywhere. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd swear that her legs had a spell cast on them. He could never help but stare. They always disarmed him...

"Imagine my Uncle times ten. Both in vindictiveness and weight," said Harry, making a quick sweep of his room for any sign of magic other than the newspaper that sat behind him.

Kat snorted. "No wonder you seem less than happy."

"Something like that."

"And I detect by your tone that you're less than happy with me."

"Mmm."

"What time do you have to go to work?" she asked suddenly.

Harry checked the clock. "Two hours," he said. Had Uncle Vernon really gotten him up at seven in the morning to gripe about a newspaper?

"Good. I need to talk. Sit," she said, slapping the bed next to her.

Well, Harry wasn't about to take orders from Kat, the girl who had pretty much played mind games with him and hung him out to dry. Let alone in his own room, which she had again invited herself into. He also noticed that she had taken the liberty of taking her shoes off, again. If these were her manners in a strange house, he'd hate to see how she acted in her own home.

"Please." A statement, not a question. Harry held his ground.

"Oh, for-" she began in exasperation. She got down on her knees and folded her hands in prayer. "Please do me the honor of sitting next to-"

"Stop," said Harry. He hated people making a big deal over nothing. He pulled her to her feet and sat next to her, still not looking at her.

"You're hacked off at me for not coming around after we shagged. You think that I used you for the sex and want nothing more to do with you, don't you?" asked Kat. Well, nobody would ever accuse her of being stupid. Or tactful.

"Add 'I made you feel like hell for playing with your mind immediately after my boyfriend dumped me' and you hit the nail right on the head," retorted Harry. "If you didn't enjoy it, you could have dropped some hint rather than keep completely silent afterwards and then ignoring me for four days."

"You think that-" Kat shook her head. "Harry, you really don't understand women, do you?"

"Meaning?" If she was trying to make him feel better, insulting him was the wrong way to do it.

"It's not that I didn't want to talk, it's that I couldn't talk," she tried to explain. "See, when a woman gets shagged really well, she's left speechless. There's no need to talk, just enjoy the moment. What did you expect, me to sing your praises afterwards? Is that what happens every time you have sex?"

"No," said Harry shortly.

"Then you-" Kat began. Her eyes widened as comprehension dawned on her. "Oh, Jesus." She put her face in her hands, shaking her head in disbelief. "It was your first time, wasn't it?"

Harry didn't bother to answer the obvious, only cringe.

"Oh, no," she said again. "Harry, I didn't... I mean, I didn't mean to... it wasn't like I knew, I just assumed that you..." She buried her face in her hands again. "No wonder why you hate me."

"I don't hate you," said Harry, his heart beginning to soften. He wouldn't have believed that Kat was truly sorry if she hadn't been rendered speechless now, something that he had never seen happen to her. Note to self, a woman is being honest when she can't find the proper words. Lesson number One in Woman Psychology 101 learned the hard way.

"I'd spent four days working out what I wanted to say to you, now I can't... I don't know how... if you don't hate me yet, you probably will now."

Corollary to Lesson One, if a woman takes the time to rehearse what she wants to say, half of her speech will be filled with lies and the other half filled with absolute crap. Harry almost wished he could be taking notes. He didn't trust his memory right now. He was almost afraid of his first conversation with Cho when he saw her again.

"Just tell me what you wanted to say, then tell me what you really mean," said Harry. Judging by the look on Kat's face, she knew that he wasn't going to let her get the best of him this time.

"When I found that note from Brian, I was so hacked off at the world," she began. "I was forced to move away from all of my friends, then he dumped me, and I didn't know anybody here, and had nobody to talk to. It just didn't seem fair. I had everything taken away from me and was hung out to dry."

"It wasn't fair," said Harry, filling the gap in the conversation while trying to prompt her to continue before she could mentally rehearse what she was going to say next.

"Then you came along, a complete stranger, and you were so nice to me. And I liked you for that," she said. "But you had also caught me crying, something nobody has ever seen me do. And I disliked you for that. Then you went so far out of your way to cheer me up, you know, the whole driving thing, and I really liked you for that. But the whole situation seemed to good to be true. A nice guy coming to me when I needed it most. And I hated that. So I justified it in my head to take what I wanted before I lost the chance, not even caring about what you wanted. I wanted to get back at Brian for being such a prick, and I wanted to get back at you for being such a saint." She buried her head again. "You must think I'm terrible."

"Terrible? No," said Harry. "Selfish? Maybe. Misguided? Definitely," grinned Harry. Kat slapped him on the shoulder. "Look, here's how I see it. You had a bad time of it, and thought about what you wanted. You couldn't get exactly what you wanted, so you changed your priorities. You wanted to have a good time, so you did. Um, you did, didn't you?"

Kat looked at him like he was crazy. "Of course I did, weren't you listening a minute ago..." She made a face. "You just wanted to hear me say it out loud."

Harry winked. "Funny, isn't it, when your own tricks are used against you?" Another smack. "So tell me, why did you really come to see me this morning?"

Kat looked down. "Imssdyou."

"Sorry?" Harry knew full well what she said, but he wasn't going to let her off without a bit of penance.

She looked right at him this time. "I missed you." It sounded as if she tried to say it in an indifferent voice, but it cracked right after the word 'I' and grew progressively more quiet after that.

Only, Harry knew what she really meant, and made sure she knew it as well. "You mean, you missed my company. Which is fine. I feel the same way. I've never had a friend while I've lived in this house. It's nice to be around someone who doesn't cringe at my presence."

"See, now I know your full of it. You've mentioned your friends at school, plus you seem to know the new guy down the street pretty well."

"I've only known Xander for a year, and we've gotten each other out of trouble a few times already. I didn't know Ron and Hermione until I went to school, and I only see them at school."

"Hermione?" asked Kat. "They often let girls into an all-boys center?"

Stupid stupid stupid, thought Harry. How was he going to cover this one up? The complete truth was out of the question, but he needed some form of the truth. "Can you keep a secret? Uncle Vernon will throttle me if he knew what I'm about to tell you." Kat crossed her heart, kissed her fingers, and held them out in Scout's Honor. "I don't go to St. Brutus's."

"So that's your big secret?" asked Kat. "Sorry to inform you, but everybody already knows that, so it's not exactly much of a secret. Try again."

Harry almost coughed, but choked it down. And all this time, he thought he was doing a good job of keeping up the façade of Uncle Vernon's bullshit. Maybe the old saying was true- Only those who want to believe a lie will accept it as truth.

Harry shifted uncomfortably and tried to put on his best shy face. He hoped this was going to work... "It's a school for people with... erm... special talent," he finished in a blush. When in doubt, allow people to invent their own form of the truth. Just hope she picks the right 'thruth'...

"I see," said Kat. Harry wasn't sure he liked the sound of her voice. "A lot of things make sense now. Like why your aunt and uncle lied, and why they treat you the way that they do..."

Oh, crap. He meant to lead her slightly off the truth, not dead on. There's no way she knows, no possible way... "What do you mean?" he asked sheepishly.

"Well, not every 16 year old guy has an owl in his room. If he does, it's for good reason. Not every 16 year old guy keeps a stack of newspapers in his room," she indicated his stack of Daily Prophet's he thought were better hidden, "and not every 16 year old guy can make his uncle feel inferior." No no no no... no possible way... "Harry," she said, grabbing hold of his hands, "you could have told me the truth from the beginning." No way... not possible... she couldn't know... "You don't have to feel ashamed about going to a school for smart kids."

Harry almost laughed. Of course there was no way she could know about Hogwarts. He felt ridiculous for even thinking she could know. In the end, she had picked the truth he wanted her to pick. Well, not necessarily about the 'school for smart kids', but it was close enough. "I'm sorry, It's just that, well..."

"I know," said Kat. "Your cousin's a moron, and your aunt and uncle can't stand the fact that you're more advanced. Of course they'd be rotten to you. It's pretty obvious that your research on endangered owls is going well if you're so confident in her habits. And everyone in the neighborhood knows that your aunt and uncle talk Dudley up way too much for it to be true. How can he be so smart if he can't find his way out of his jumper without falling over? And how can he possibly be a champion boxer at school when he's so out of shape and... well.. fat?"

Relief was a wonderful feeling. Not only did he not have to explain that he was a wizard, but all of the neighbors disliked his aunt and uncle nearly as much as he did. "Actually, Dudley is a boxer at school, but he's awful. I was forced to go to his first match when I came home for the holiday, and he got wallopped. If you could win a match based on how well you execute the fetal position after getting knocked on your arse, he'd be a world champion."

Her laugh was always hypnotizing. No wonder Harry fell into her trap. But he had to exercise self control now. By the tone of Cho's last letter, she wasn't blowing him off, and the expensive gift she had given him pretty much proved it. Since when do you give such a thing to someone you don't want to be with anymore?

"Oh, wow, we've talked the whole morning away. You have to get to work," said Kat, pointing at Harry's clock. Actually, he had a good forty-five minutes until he had to get there, but it never hurt to be early. Besides, it sounded like Kat was trying to regain her dignitiy by deciding when she should leave, not waiting until Harry chucked her out.

"Tell you what, let me dress, and we could walk down and grab a quick cup of coffee before I work," said Harry, wondering if she was going to correct him by mentioning that she preferred cappuccino.

"Sounds fine. I'll wait," she said, and curled up on Harry's bed, watching him expectantly.

Professor McGonagall naked, he thought hurriedly before his blood flowed to the wrong place. "Gimmie five minutes to shower," he said, grabbing some clothes from his wardrobe. Kat stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. She looked so... no, quit that Harry. You know for sure this time that Cho didn't blow you off. "You look just like your mother when you do that," teased Harry. She threw a pillow at him.

Harry had a rather enjoyable day, even with Aunt Marge's impending visit looming over his head. Kat had taken on a less assertive attitude, but that's not to say that she had suddenly become a complete pushover. She had simply stopped trying to order Harry around. She still maintained her wit, her tactless comments, and her rather sharp sexual humor, but had quit her strong push for a sexual relationship in exchange for a few harmless flirts here and there. Harry was glad that they had reached the unspoken agreement of being stricly friends. He enjoyed her company very much, but was now on a mission to remain completely celibate until he was absolutely certain where he and Cho stood.

Mr. Tompkins had a few crew members that Harry had never seen before, what with a complete outside remodeling contract on the table for this house. He told Harry that he expected it to take three weeks and that it would probably be the last job that Harry worked on this summer, seeing as how he had the new term coming up in a month.

It took a few hours, but he eventually warmed up to the new coworkers. At first, they teased him for being small and would chuckle whenever they saw him trying to lift a stack of 2x4's, but admiration grew quickly when they noticed that Harry planned on working just as hard as they did. Harry, for his part, marvelled at the skill of these new workers. Mr. Tompkins had trained Harry on the circular saw, but he still had to complete his cuts slowly in order to make it somewhat even. These new guys were like beavers. He wondered if Professor Flitwick could perform a Severing Charm with as much accuracy.

Kat had even walked by the jobsite with another girl whom he didn't know and called out to him. He wasn't sure which was more embarassing; the fact that he had dropped his stack of lumber when he heard her voice or the catcalling from his coworkers. He took it all in good stride, and in the end the crew had changed from teasing to admiration that Harry could land such a catch. He tried to explain that Kat wasn't his girlfriend, but it didn't matter to them. They were more interesting in ribbing the 'new guy' as he was referred to. Mr. Tompkins had forwarned Harry that they wouldn't use his first name until he had proven himself to be an asset.

At the end of the day, Harry ached in places he never knew existed. With the August heat, he quickly shed his shirt and now had a bright red sunburn to show for it, and the sweat pouring into his eyes didn't help matters much, either. The crew had pulled out a cooler full of ale as was their custom for the first day of every job, but recalling his silent vow, Harry opted for water instead using the excuse of "I'll probably piss myself on the walk home" if he had a drink. Besdies, he was technically under age and didn't want Mr. Tompkins to get into trouble. After another round of ribbing and learning several knew ways to obscenely insult someone, Harry called it a day in order to weed the garden at home.

"Meow," he heard someone whisper in his ear as a hand caressed his sunburnt back.

What I would give to hex those wankers, Harry thought to himself as the catcalling began again. "Is it cold out here or are you just happy to see me," asked Harry over his shoulder. Had he looked over his other shoulder, he would have noticed that Kat's friend was still with her. Had he paid attention earlier, he would have noticed who Kat's friend was. And had he not been such a bloody fool, he would have had the sense to keep his mouth closed when he finally saw her.

"Jean, this is Harry. Harry, this is Jean," Kat introduced them, but not without a wink. She apparently thought that Harry had the hots for Jean.

"Erm, pleasure," said Harry. He received a 'Keep Your Lips Shut' look in return, which quickly changed into a very flirtatious gaze at his bare torso.

"Oh, no, the pleasure's all mine," said Jean.

"I thought it might be nice to walk you home for a change," said Kat as she slung her arm through Harry's. Jean did the same on his other arm. "Besides, I never feel truly safe without my 'Great Protector' by my side."

"Yes, I've heard about your heroics," said Jean. "And of your 'talents'," she added, letting her gaze drop momentarily to an area below his waist. 'Jean' was thoroughly enjoying herself.

Harry glared accusingly at Kat, who blushed. "I do what I can," he said, his lips tight. Well, two can play this game. "How about you, Jean? Surely a woman with your beauty has a boyfriend..." with slight emphasis on the word boyfriend.

"Oh, you know how it is these days. Sometimes people forget that they have a significant other in their lives," said Jean.

I swear, as soon as Kat is out of sight...

This continued for the entire walk home, throwing ambiguous comments back and forth, Kat chirping in with more comments that didn't exactly help to keep Harry calm (on the other hand it did help keep is annoyance in check. After all, it wasn't every day that a woman spread the word that you were a good lover).

"So, Jean, what brings you to our area of the woods? Have a sweet tooth for the suburbs?" asked Harry.

Jean slapped his sunburned shoulder, sending fresh waves of achiness through Harry, who wasn't altogether sure that Jean hadn't done it on purpose. "I'm visiting my cousin on Privet Drive. He has some friends over for a bonfire tonight. But I grew tired of their conspiracy theories.Always speaking about hidden Riddles. Something about an evil overLord building his own militia. I think they watch X-Files too much, personally."

Kat laughed out loud. "They'd get on well with my father. He loves conspiracy theories. Always going on about the Royal Family. Speaking of Privet Drive, we're here." She pointed to Harry's house.

"Oh, right," he said stupidly. He'd been so caught up in Jean's last comment that he completely forgot where he was. "I've got my 'punishment' to do before my aunt comes to visit. I'll talk to you two later," he said as Kat gave him a hug.

"It was a pleasure talking to you, Harry," said Jean, who also gave him a hug, but was being a lot less flirtatious now. Looking over her shoulder, he could tell why. There were several faces peering in his direction.

"Yo, Harry!" called Xander as he trotted across the street. "Glad to see you met my cousin, save me the trouble of introducing you two later. And put your damn shirt on, you're gonna put me to shame," he added. Kat turned around to wink at Harry one last time before she crossed the street with Jean.

"We need to talk," said Harry under his breath as he put his shirt back on.

"Yes, we do," said Xander. "C'mon, I'll help you weed the garden."

"How-?"

"Kat's very fond of you," Xander answered, though his tone didn't sound altogether pleasant. More worried than anything. "She spoke quite extensively about you today."

"I really don't need a lecture right now," Harry said in annoyance. "And can someone tell me exactly when Hermione changed her name to Jean?"

Xander chuckled. "We thought you might like that."

"Why?"

"Well, to warn you, you've been the butt of a few jokes for wearing designer jeans on your birthday," said Xander with a grin. "If someone calls you 'Harry Klein', just roll with it."

"Okay," said Harry. "Now, can someone tell me why Hermione's made friends with Kat?"

Nobody could go from smiling to pensive quite the way Xander could. "We have to learn as much about her as we can. Daily habits, friends at school, anything about her family. Hermione's the only one we had on short notice that was Kat's age."

"And why do 'we' need this information?"

"Remember those two wizards from the carnival last week? They saw you with Kat."

"So?"

"Voldemort's got Kat on his latest 'How-To-Get-To-Harry-Potter' list."