It May Be Raining

Chapter Two

News of a Visitor

"these things that are pleasing you can hurt you somehow..."

At five minutes before six in the morning, Harry set down his quill and pushed his finished essay aside. He pulled Ron´s letter out from under his Potions book and reread it. He was mildly jealous of Hermione and the fact that she was going to spend two weeks at the Burrow with Ron and his family and Harry would have to stay at the Dursley´s until September the First.

"Oh well, at least I have Diagon Alley to look forward to."

This was by no means a consolation for being left out. The Burrow was his favorite place to be--well, almost. Hogwarts was his favorite place of all. It was his home.

Harry shot a glance at his calendar on the wall. Thirty-five days until he would catch the Hogwarts Express on platform nine-and-three-quarters.

Harry put a hand up to his mouth to stifle a yawn and rummaged around on his desk for another piece of parchment. He thought for a moment about how to reply to Ron´s letter. He started, in what he hoped was an off-handed sort of tone:

Ron,

Yeah, Friday before we catch the train sounds great. Let´s meet in front of Florean Fortesque´s. I can´t wait until then; I just have to make sure that my uncle will take me into London. I´m sure he will agree. All I have to say is, "going upstairs to finish that letter to my godfather, you know, the escaped convict?" It always does the trick. But just in case, I´ll try to stay out of everyone´s way.

Nothing much has been going on here; I have mostly just stayed in my room. I just finished my last essay and, I have to say, Boomslag Skin is not very interesting at all. I´m sure you and Hermione will have loads of fun, just don´t let her study too hard. She needs to loosen up for the last two weeks of the summer. Teach her how to play Quidditch, if you can get her on a broom. I wish I could come too, but I figured Dumbledore wouldn´t let me. Write me back and tell me everything you two are up to.

-Harry

He folded the letter and placed it inside an envelope, setting it aside for when Hedwig returned.

Harry let out another great yawn and went downstairs for breakfast.

He came into the kitchen and slid silently into his chair. It had become routine, the way his only living relatives ignored his existence, even when he was in the same room as them. He stared at his plate, empty because Aunt Petunia was still preparing breakfast. He absently listened to the sound of the television in the corner. Dudley was watching cartoons. Then, another sound caught Harry´s attention--letters dropping in from the mail slot.

"Go get the letters, boy," Uncle Vernon said as he sat across the table from Harry, reading the morning paper.

Without a word, Harry slid back out of the chair and into the hall. Rifling through the letters, Harry walked back into the kitchen and handed two bills and two letters to Vernon. Harry´s uncle put down the paper and turned his attention to the mail.

"Hmm, bills," Vernon muttered to himself as Harry returned to his chair. "Letter from Marge," Vernon said to Petunia as he took a sip of coffee and tossed the letter on top of the bills.

Harry looked up at Vernon as he read the address on the envelope of the last letter. He was almost sure he had seen his uncle´s eyes widen in surprise as he choked on his coffee. "Look at this, Petunia. I wonder what they want?"

"What is it dear?" Petunia chirped, carrying a frying pan full of bacon to the table.

"A letter from John and Marianne," Harry´s uncle said with the faintest hint of amazement in his voice.

Petunia stopped in mid-motion as she was shoveling out bacon onto Dudley´s plate. Recovering her composure, Petunia made her way to Vernon, looking over his shoulder as he unfolded the letter and began to read. All the while Harry moved his food around on his plate, too distracted to eat.

"Dear Vernon,

I trust your lovely wife and adorable son are well?"

At this Uncle Vernon gave a snort.

"We are all well here in Portsmouth, I assure you. John and I are planning a small vacation for the end of this month and we were curious to know if you and Petunia would be kind enough to look after Anni while we are in France for our anniversary?"

Harry´s head shot up from his plate at the mention of the name and began to listen intently.

Petunia let out an indistinguishable sound at the question Vernon had just read. Harry could tell that she did not look pleased at the prospect. Vernon read on:

"We should only be gone for two months."

Vernon paused to exchange a look of annoyance with his wife.

"We, of course, asked around among our acquaintances here first, but no luck! Anni won´t be too much of an inconvenience, I assure you. You need only to keep her until the First of September. She leaves for Saint Sophia´s School for Girls from King´s Cross Station then, and she would only be spending the month of August with you."

Petunia scoffed at the impertinence of the woman.

"Of course, John and I would be eternally grateful, Vernon, if you could watch Anni for us just this once."

Vernon´s eyes lit up like Dudley´s did at Christmas dinner.

"You are a dear brother!

Love from your sister,

Marianne"

Vernon refolded the letter and placed it on top of the letter from Marge. Petunia took her seat and began to fill her plate. Staring at his half-full cup of coffee, Vernon was the first to speak.

"I can´t think of any excuse why we couldn´t-," but he was cut off by his wife´s shrill voice.

"Absolutely not, Vernon! She´s almost as bad as that one there!" She nodded in Harry´s direction. Harry quickly returned his gaze to his plate of untouched food. "Just think of what poor Dudders would have to endure. Imagine, he would have to spend the end of his vacation with her," Petunia continued. Dudley looked up from his cartoons just long enough to give his mother a pitiful and helpless glance and returned to shoveling eggs into his pudgy face.

"But Petunia, she´s my niece and-," he was interrupted once more.

"Don´t you remember the last time she was here? Dudley wouldn´t come out of his room the whole time, she had him so terrified. She´s the worst sort of child. Your sister spoils her, you know."

"Yes, dear," Vernon retorted mildly, "but that was Christmas--five years ago! Our Dudley is a fine young lad and he´s more than capable of standing up to a girl." Vernon clapped his son on the back proudly. Dudley didn´t look up from his show.

"But Dudley is such a sensitive boy!" remarked Petunia gazing lovingly at her child while Harry tried to stifle a laugh. Vernon gave him a look over his coffee cup that made Harry stop giggling at once and return to his breakfast.

"Why don´t you just admit what this is really about, Vernon, you just want John´s business. I know you´ve been trying for three years at least to persuade him to use Grunnings, and you think that letting Annabelle stay here for the summer is going to change his mind." Vernon sputtered; his wife had hit the nail on the head.

"It´s only a month, Petunia. Besides, Marianne is my sister. What would she think if we refused?" Vernon and Petunia were always concerned with what others thought. Petunia, even though her feelings toward her husband´s niece were less than warm, had always maintained to John and Marianne that Annabelle was a "dear, sweet child" and that she was "exceedingly fond of her."

"Fine, Vernon," Petunia relented as she lifted her coffee cup to her lips. "It´s only a month, I suppose." Her expression was pinched and more horse-like than ever.

During this entire conversation, Dudley had remained entranced by the television, absent-mindedly finishing his heaps of eggs and bacon. He had little interest in the conversation that had just passed, but Harry had listened intently to every word.

Harry remembered that Christmas when Anni had come to visit with her parents. He and Dudley were ten at the time; she was eleven. Anni was the only member of the Dursley family that Harry actually liked. Her parents, John and Marianne, treated Harry with kind indifference, which was better than the treatment he received from Vernon and Petunia. Anni, however, had befriended Harry, becoming somewhat of an ally in the constant war between him and Dudley. The prospect of Anni´s visit made his grim situation a little brighter. He would not have to suffer through the entire summer at the Dursley´s without a friend.

***

Unable to sleep as usual, Harry lay in his bed with his head under the covers and a flashlight propped between his chin and chest. Flying with the Cannons was open on his lap. Harry usually had his late night study sessions by flashlight and under the blankets as not to disturb the sleeping inhabitants of the house. He watched as the players in orange robes flew by on broomsticks.

Books had been a great source of distraction from the thoughts that had lately haunted him. Harry snapped the thick book shut, turned off the flashlight and pulled the covers off of his head. He glanced at the alarm clock; it read 2:03 am. He had been fifteen for two whole hours without being aware of it. Harry placed the book on his desk with a pile of others and glanced one last time at the birthday cards he had received from his friends, Ron and Hermione and Hagrid, the Hogwarts Gamekeeper. Even though this wasn´t the first time Harry had received birthday cards, he still hadn´t gotten over the novelty of them. Next to the cards was a package from Ron. It contained several Filibuster´sNo-heat, Wet-start Fireworks and a generous supply of dungbombs. He reckoned he and Ron could put them to good use when they returned to Hogwarts. Hermione had given him a book for his birthday. As Harry looked at it, he gave a slight chuckle. The title of the book was The Wise OWL´s: Lessons From Wise Witches and Warlocks on Passing the Ordinary Wizarding Levels With Success. This gift was in typical Hermione taste. He groaned at the thought of the OWL´s. He, Ron and Hermione would be taking them at the end of the upcoming year. On top of the book was a large brick of homemade fudge from Hagrid. If it was like the rest of Hagrid´s cooking, Harry thought that it would be best to leave it for Dudley to find in the morning.

It was a wonderful feeling to know that someone cared that he was turning fifteen. Harry took off his glasses and placed them on top of the pile of books, plopped himself down on the bed and attempted to fall asleep.

Only minutes after closing his eyes, the unmistakable sound of Hedwig´s beak tapping on the window roused Harry. Instantly, he threw off his covers and ran to the window to let her in. Hedwig fluttered into the room and perched on the infamous confection of Hagrid´s creation. She had a letter tied to one leg.

"I was wondering if I would see you tonight," Harry said. But, glancing at his clock, which now read a quarter after two, Harry corrected himself by adding, "er, this morning."

He stroked the bird gently as he removed the letter. Unfolding it, he immediately recognized the author´s hand. He read:

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! I´m sorry I couldn´t reply sooner--I´ve been busy lately. I have once again discussed your dream and the pain in your scar with Dumbledore. This event seems too much of a coincidence to be passed over. Neither of us could venture to guess who the other person was in your dream, however. I´m sure that you have nothing to worry about as long as you´re with the Dursleys. I am sorry that you will have to remain there for the rest of the summer, but I agree that there is no safer alternative. Keep me posted on any other strange occurrences--tell me everything!

Oh, I almost forgot. I have enclosed a small present for you. I have been carrying this around with me for a while and I wasn´t sure when the right time would be to give it to you.

Harry turned the letter over and the writing continued on the other side.

It isn´t much, but it meant a lot to me. We were about your age then. I want you to have it now.

Sirius

Beneath the last line of the letter was a wizard´s photograph of a smiling Sirius with his arms flung around a younger Remus Lupinand a man with shaggy, black hair and round glasses--it was Harry´s father and his two closest friends.

Harry was stunned. This was by far the best birthday gift that he had ever received. He stared at it for a while, mesmerized by the three smiling faces. Harry let out a small laugh as he watched the two dark-haired boys shove the lighter-haired boy out of the frame of the photo.

Forcing himself to take his eyes away from the people in the photo after spending several minutes in this fashion, he set the photo on top of a book, took off his glasses and climbed into bed. Sleep came almost instantly.

***

"And playing for the English National Team, our very own Harry Potter!" The crowd went mad as Harry flew circles around the Quidditch pitch, waving as he heard them chanting, "Harry, Harry, Harry."

"Harry, wake up!" He opened his eyes and sat up, startled. A girl with brown, curly hair and shining sapphire eyes was smiling over him.

"Anni?" Harry said, in a half-yawn.

The girl nodded and giggled. Harry just stared, grinning in amazement.

"I didn´t think you would be here so soon after your mother´s letter." He stopped to think. "It only just arrived two days ago."

"My parents are leaving for Bordeaux in the morning. Uncle Vernon phoned yesterday morning to say that I could stay and here I am" Anni said, grinning and jumping on to Harry´s bed, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. Harry reached over the stack of books on his desk and grabbed his glasses. Putting them on, he glanced at the alarm clock that said it was 11:24 in the morning. Harry hadn´t slept in at the Dursleyssince as far back as he could remember.

"Why aren´t you up and at `em yet?" Anniquestioned.

"Long night," was Harry´s short answer. His eye caught the wizard photograph on his desk. The wizards in it were laughing and shoving each other around. Harry quickly reached over and threw Sirius´ letter over it before Annihad time to notice. He was planning on letting his cousin in on his secret life as a wizard, but he just hadn´t figured out the best way to say it yet. "Hey, Anni," Harry thought, "you´ll never guess what I´ve been up to since I saw you last..." No, that sounded lame.

"Happy Birthday!" she said as she noticed the birthday cards on a shelf above the desk. "I´ll let you get dressed." She jumped off the bed. "Nice owl." She gestured toward the sleeping Hedwig. Maybe telling her about the wizarding world would be easier than he thought.

Harry got dressed and put away his birthday presents--and anything else that would cause suspicion. He then made his way quickly down the stairs, wondering if his sleeping late was going to cause trouble for him with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. As he made his way into the kitchen, where Dudley was watching television while Anni idly chattered to him under the watchful eye of Petunia, he saw Uncle Vernon glare at him accusingly over the morning paper.

"You, in the hallway," was the greeting he received. Harry retreated into the hall followed by a red-faced and anxious-looking Vernon. Anni shot an apologetic glance at Harry before his exit. Petunia continued to sip her coffee and keep watch over her Dudders.

"I didn´t mean to wake up so late, I didn´t get much sleep last night and..." stammered Harry.

"That´s not what I wanted to talk to you about," interrupted Vernon impatiently. "I want to make sure we see clearly on a few things. While my niece is visiting I don´t want any funny business--no talk about your `abnormality,´ your school or anything of the sort. You are to be on your best behavior. Do I make myself clear?" Vernon towered over Harry. His voice had become a low and raspy whisper when speaking the words "funny business."

"Yes," Harry replied, adding just the right amount of dejection to his voice he deemed necessary to placate his uncle.

"You will tell your cousin, if she should ask, that you attend St. Brutus´s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. Any nonsense from you, boy, and you´ll regret it. And I don´t care who your godfather is." As Vernon said these last words, he tried hard to keep his voice from trembling, but Harry perceived the nervousness Vernon struggled to hide.

Harry, who loved to hold his escaped-convict-accused-murderer-godfather over his uncle´s head, had to fight hard to hide a snigger.

Uncle Vernon, feeling that he had sufficiently intimidated the boy into compliance, returned to his coffee and newspaper in the kitchen.Harry followed.

As he slipped silently into a chair at the table, Aunt Petunia set a plate of toast in front of him and snapped in a low voice, "Trim the rose bushes in the garden when you´re finished." Harry nodded in compliance and ate eagerly.