Daddy Get Me Out Of Here

Daddy Get Me Out of Here

Chapter 2 - Arrival at Little Whinging

It was close to eight o'clock when Ron and Hermione reached Little Whinging. They got off the bus not far from Privet Drive, and stopped in an alley to hide themselves under the cloak. They didn't know it, but it was the same alley where Harry had first seen Sirius lurking.

The cloak was very large, but still getting themselves hidden under it proved to be much more challenging than the last time they had used it. It didn't seem all that long ago that the two of them along with Harry had managed to fit under it and sneak to Hogwarts library with ease. For a second Hermione wondered if it might have got mixed up in a load of laundry, and if it was possible for invisibility cloaks to shrink - but then she remembered that they had been quite a few years younger then. Ron alone was at least two feet taller now. It made concealing themselves rather tricky.

"We're just going to have to get closer together," Hermione said, after they had failed for the third time. "You're so much taller than I am -"

"I can't help being tall," Ron interrupted grumpily.

"I know! I didn't say it was a bad thing, Ron! What we need to do is imagine that it's a tent - if we put it over just you, as if you're a tent pole, then maybe I can get underneath -"

"I'm nothing like a tent pole!"

"Ron, I know! Just shut up and stand still!"

For what seemed like the hundredth time she looked around carefully to make sure that no-one was observing them from either end of the alley. Then she gave the cloak a good shake and flung it over Ron's head, still holding onto one side. Ron immediately disappeared as the cloak settled, shimmering into nothing. Hermione let go and stared at the empty space for a moment.

"Right," she said, "that looks good. Now take hold of it in a couple of places, so that it doesn't slip, and I'll see if I can get underneath."

She stepped forward and stretched out her arm, but felt nothing. "Say something, would you - I can't see you at all."

"I'm here," came Ron's voice - a sinister murmur right next to her left ear.

She jumped and gave a small shriek, wheeling around.

Ron was standing right behind her and laughing. "You were so funny staring into space like that," he giggled.

"Honestly, Ron! This isn't a school outing!"

"I love it when you look all confused," Ron continued, still laughing. "Doesn't happen often enough."

Hermione flushed, glaring. "Stop being so childish! Stand still!"

"You laughed when Harry did it last year!"

"When Harry does it, it's funny. When you do it, it isn't. Especially right now. We're here for a reason, remember?"

"Okay, okay... I'm right here." He stood still just two paces from her and watched as she moved towards his voice, waving her hands in front of her. "Only messing about," he added, as her hands found him.

"I hope that's your arm I've got," she snapped.

"Could be."

"Just grow up and hold onto the cloak to keep it place. And don't move."

Ron complied, and she started feeling for the edge of the cloak.

"I suppose it's designed for one adult, really," said Ron. "I wish I had one of these cloaks."

"Why, so you can steal food and play stupid jokes on people?"

"What's the harm in that?"

"I think Harry probably puts it to better use."

"Oh, you think so? You don't know how many times we've sneaked to the kitchens at night under this thing."

"I bet I know which one of you suggested it!"

"You really need to lighten up, Hermione. What's wrong with having fun with it?"

Hermione looked very disapproving. "Honestly. Harry's father's cloak - you should be ashamed of yourselves. The poor man must be turning in his grave."

Ron snorted. "That's what Harry's dad used it for! Dumbledore told Harry so!"

Hermione said nothing, just sniffed disapprovingly.

"When we use the cloak to sneak out of school for a laugh," Ron went on, "it's ultimately out of respect for Harry's dad's memory."

"Oh, I'm sure."

But as soon as he'd said these words, Ron realized that he hadn't been joking, entirely. If they couldn't remember how to laugh and have fun in spite of all the difficult times, behind and before them, then they might as well give up. He suddenly felt a sort of respect for his brothers Fred and George that went beyond the usual younger brother's admiration. With their dedication to practical jokes and humour, they were in their way keeping alive some of the fundamental differences between themselves and Dementors, Deatheaters and Dark wizards.

Hermione was holding the edge of the cloak up, until she saw Ron's feet. Then turning, she pulled it over her head. Now she stood with her back half-turned to Ron, looking anxiously down.

"Are my feet showing?"

"Er - I think they are," he said reluctantly. "Only a little bit, though - I doubt anyone would notice."

"I think people might notice a pair of shoes walking themselves." She edged back slightly before looking down again. The shoes were still visible. "Look, I'm sorry Ron - I'm going to have to get right up against you if I want to hide my feet. The cloak just isn't quite long enough."

There was a funny pause, before Ron stammered, "Oh, okay. That's fine."

She hesitated, then stepped back against him awkwardly. Then she looked down, clearing her throat. "Good," she said brightly. "My feet have gone. Walking's going to be a bit difficult, though."

"Yeah," said Ron, trying not to sound disconcerted. "Er - how -"

"It's going to be like a three-legged race, or dancing. We'll have to imagine we're - doing the tango, or something."

"I don't think McGonagall taught us that one," he said, and then immediately wished he hadn't spoken. They hadn't talked about the Yule Ball since that night when they'd had their huge fight.

Hermione didn't react, however. "Look, just - put your arms -" she reached back and guided his arms around her.

"Oh - what - like -?"

"Yes - that's fine."

"Okay."

"Alright. Now we should be able to stay balanced. Let's go, shall we? Left foot first?"

"Okay. Don't tread on my toes, alright?" He laughed sheepishly, and she laughed too.

"I'm actually not a bad dancer, Ron."

"Yeah, I know."

After that, everything was fine. Being suddenly pushed together into an intimate space like this was nice, and not nearly as strange as either of them feared. They had been such good friends for several years, after all - it suddenly seemed silly that they'd never even hugged before. Ron had seen Hermione hug Harry several times, without any discomfiture. For the first time, he found that he didn't feel envious about it, even though the awkwardness between Hermione and himself still hadn't vanished now. He didn't exactly understand it, but if he'd had time to think it through right there, he might have come to the conclusion that it was because this awkwardness was their own, personal thing; because it indicated something between them more mysterious than friendship. Even though that unnamed thing that had prevented Hermione from displaying the any affection towards Ron was still with them, it didn't seem to matter right now, because for the moment they had something else that didn't exist for her and Harry. It wasn't an absence of awkwardness that made them feel comfortable now - it was that the awkwardness was already as familiar to them as they already were to each other. It made their present closeness feel sort of - special.

They made it to Privet Drive without tripping over each other once. But it wasn't long before they were standing in front of the house, and there was no longer room in their minds for anything other than Harry.

Ron had been here before, of course, but by daylight it looked far more bizarre to him. Number 4, Privet Drive couldn't look more different from The Burrow. The semi-detached houses - the very idea of semi-detached seemed insane to him - were all alike, all squashed in together, and yet somehow managing to remain haughty-looking.

It seemed very quiet. Hermione noticed that there was no car in the driveway.

"It looks like they're out," she said. "Let's go around the back, if Harry's there it will probably be unlocked."

"Well, let's just knock! I bet Harry's here still, he can let us in!"

"No, we don't know for certain if they're all gone! If there's a door unlocked at the back we might be able to sneak in."

They went to the tall gate at the side of the house, hoping it would lead them to the back. But the gate was locked. They rattled at it, as surreptitiously as they could, but to no avail. It seemed to be bolted from the other side, and there was no way one of them could give the other a leg-up over the gate and remain hidden under the cloak at the same time.

"Alright," said Hermione. "Let's stop and think."

But Ron had a better idea. He stooped and gathered a handful of gravel from the driveway, and before Hermione could stop him, he snaked his hand out from under the cloak and tossed the small pebbles at one of the ground floor windows with a swift flick of the wrist.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "For goodness' sake!"

She grabbed his arm and they froze still, staring at the house's windows. They thought they saw a shadowy movement behind the windows of the front door, but they couldn't be sure.

Hermione nudged Ron and they sneaked to the edge of the drive, trying not to crunch the gravel too much as they went. As soon as they were by the fence, Hermione began reprimanding him again in an angry whisper.

"Don't you ever think before you act? Honestly, Ron! What if you'd broken one of their windows? Think of the trouble you'd have got Harry into!"

"I just thought if we could get Harry to open a window or something, we might be able to get his attention!" Ron hissed back. "I'm not going to break anything with a few tiny pebbles, am I?"

"What if one of his relatives heard it?"

"What if they did? They can't see us! They'd probably think it was a shower of hail or something!"

"Ron, it's July!"

Ron glared at her. The glare was wasted, since they were huddled too close together under the cloak for her to really see his face. This only irritated him more, and now he found himself hoping that they wouldn't be coupled under this cloak of Harry's for too long, because if it went on like this he might just end up strangling her. "So what better idea do you have?" he said. "We can't stand here all night!"

Hermione may have had some ideas of her own, but before she could say anything, the problem of getting in was solved for them. A car pulled into the driveway.

Ron and Hermione both looked down at themselves hastily to make sure that there were no parts of the cloak that might have slipped off. When they looked up again, the car doors were opening and Harry's Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were climbing out, along with a boy about Harry's age but twice his size, who could only be his cousin Dudley, and a large woman who looked almost exactly like Vernon Dursley.

"I bet that's Harry's Aunt Marge - the one he blew up!" Ron whispered. He and Hermione were both backed into the hedge not far from the front door. With luck they'd be able to sneak in behind Harry's relatives undetected.

"Gosh!" Hermione breathed. "Thank goodness we didn't arrive with Sirius or Professor Dumbledore! Harry's Aunt Marge doesn't know Harry's a wizard - just think how angry they would be with him if we'd given the game away!"

Vernon had just pressed a device on his keys. The car, a gleaming grey, made a dutiful 'wup-wup' noise. Now he was trying the handle on each door, making sure that it had locked properly.

"Can't be too careful," he was saying cheerfully. "Neighbourhood isn't what it used to be. Full of young hoodlums."

Dudley, glowering and mumbling of hunger, looked just like the sort of 'young hoodlum' Vernon might be talking about. His face was set in a mean, bitter expression which, combined with his ogre-like build, made him look like he might spend his evenings wearing knuckle-dusters, threatening teenagers and smashing telephone boxes.

"Dear, let's get inside. Dudders needs his dinner." Petunia placed her arm around her son's shoulders protectively.

"I hope that nephew of yours has dinner ready like you told him," Marge said. Hermione clutched Ron's arm. They were talking about Harry.

"He'll have it ready, all right," Vernon was replying airily. He gave his precious car a last pat and then rubbed at the spot with a handkerchief. "He knows what'll happen if he doesn't," he added.

"I'm certainly glad to see his manners improving," Marge observed. "Hardly seen hide nor hair of him, unlike last time I saw him here. A persistent attention seeker, he was."

Hermione noticed Vernon's face darken momentarily as he fumbled for the house key. He clearly hadn't forgotten what had happened to Marge last summer, even if she had.

"Always hanging around like a stray mutt," Marge was saying, "just waiting for an opportunity for mischief. Classic attention-seeking behaviour. I had a dog once that peed on the carpet all the time. Same thing. Attention-seeking. Trying to manipulate you. But I suppose this one's finally responding to discipline."

"Yes, yes," Vernon replied, approaching the door, now. "A great improvement. St. Brutus' is starting to make an impression, we think."

Hermione nudged Ron. He bent his head down and she whispered very quietly in his ear. "We mustn't make a sound - no matter what's going on, we've got to keep quiet until we're alone with Harry."

If he hadn't been filled with the desire to punch this woman who seemed to think that Harry was some sort of dog, Ron would have rather enjoyed the feeling of Hermione's warm breath on his face. Her voice sounded curiously gentle in his ear. But he was only barely conscious of this; right now he could only glare at Marge, gripping Hermione's wrist rather tightly. "I don't like this," he muttered.

"I know. Let's just try and keep our heads. For Harry. They mustn't know that we're here."

Vernon had the door open and was wiping his feet on the mat as he led the others in. Ron and Hermione crept behind Dudley and managed to slip through the door behind him just before it closed. They immediately retreated into a corner. It was a small hallway, and they were dangerously close to being brushed up against as the family stood removing their coats. Hermione had her back pressed against Ron, and for the briefest moment it seemed to him that the situation, tense though it was, had something special about it. Then Harry appeared in the hallway, and his thought was never finished.