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Author: Arnel Story: Summer Story Rating: Young Teens Status: Completed Reviews: 7 Words: 165,053
“You’ll just have to be patient, Harry,” Mrs Weasley said matter-of-factly. “It’s going to take time for the potions to work their way out of your system.” “Do I have a choice?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I think you know that, dear,” she replied. “I’m glad to see that you want to be up and about, though.” Harry smiled wanly. “I want to stay awake while Ginny is here later,” he said quietly. Mrs Weasley sat in the rocker. She looked sad as she said, “I’m sorry, but neither Ginny nor Ron nor Hermione have been able to get clearance to come home today, Harry. You see, Ginny wouldn’t leave your side for three whole days after we brought you back here. She thought her presence would bring you back to us from wherever you had retreated mentally. It took Professor McGonagall threatening to kick her off the Quidditch team to get her back to school. Now, because of her reluctance to leave you, she’s being disciplined for missing important lessons.” Harry let his head flop back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling, silently fuming. “I don’t want anyone to be in trouble because of me,” he muttered. Mrs Weasley’s stern voice made him look up. “She made her choices, Harry, and now she is dealing with the consequences.” Her tone softened. “None of this is your fault; you are completely innocent. If I remember correctly, you had to make some pretty tough choices on your birthday, as did Professor Dumbledore. Ginny is learning from her choices just as you are. I’m now asking you to be patient and go along with the school’s new authorities. Can you do that?” Harry nodded. “Maybe I’ll feel stronger when Ginny finally gets here,” he said, sighing deeply. Mrs Weasley patted his leg as Hedwig flew in the window, a rat clutched in her beak. “I’m sure you will, Harry,” she said and left the room soon after. Harry fell into a fitful sleep to the comforting sounds of Hedwig’s dinner. Dudley was seated in the rocker typing on his laptop the next time Harry awoke. “Homework,” he muttered when he noticed Harry staring at him. Dudley’s presence startled him a little, not only because his cousin was built like several of the Death Eaters Harry had known, but because Dudley was in the room to begin with. Neither boy said much the first few times Harry awoke to find Dudley sitting with him, but eventually it dawned on Harry that his cousin might be waiting to speak with him about something. In the meantime, they kept each other company, something for which Harry was grateful. He disliked being alone these days. Finally, it seemed that Dudley found the courage to broach whatever subject he wanted to talk about. “I need... I want... I need to thank those Death Eaters for something,” he finally mumbled one evening, about a week after Harry had regained consciousness. Harry, who had been dozing, opened his eyes and jerked his head towards his cousin. “What?” Dudley fidgeted with an empty glass he was holding. “I... er... I... I’ve decided to join the Army,” he finally muttered, glancing at Harry as if to gauge his reaction. Harry stared at Dudley. “Why? I thought you were going to finish Smeltings and then take a job at Grunnings,” he commented. “I didn’t go back to school this year,” Dudley mumbled, meeting his gaze. “Long story.” “You don’t have to tell me,” Harry said. “But why the Army?” Dudley looked back at his glass. “They do... important things. They rescue people. They protect our country. I... I want to do stuff like that, you know?” Harry chose his words carefully as he said, “You liked being part of the planning and rescue teams, didn’t you?” “Yeah, I did.” Dudley smiled. “And I want to do more stuff like that.” “What do Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon think of your choice?” Dudley didn’t speak right away. “I haven’t told them. We haven’t spoken since the last day of August.” Surprised, Harry asked, “That long? Why?” “That’s the night Dad and I fought over my joining the search for you. We haven’t spoken since,” Dudley said, looking everywhere but at Harry. “He didn’t want me to get involved, but I’d wanted to help out since we first learned you’d gone missing. It felt like... the right thing to do.” “I can understand that,” Harry said slowly. “I know that, but my dad doesn’t. He thinks... Hell, I don’t know what he thinks.” Dudley stood up and began pacing the small room. “All I know is I’d finally found something worth doing and he wasn’t going to let me do it.” He stopped pacing and looked directly at Harry. “It’s the same thing with the Army. I know it’ll be hard, but I just can’t see myself tethered to a desk like Dad is all day. Dad doesn’t understand stuff like that, not like you or Mr Weasley,” he added. Dudley looked so uncomfortable that Harry tried to change the subject. “When will you be joining up?” “I can enlist now. The minimum age is sixteen and a half, but unless you take your A Levels you don’t get the good jobs.” “And you haven’t taken those exams yet?” Harry asked thinking of the NEWTs he had yet to take. “I would have taken them at the end of the spring term,” Dudley replied. “That’s not until June,” Harry observed. “What will you do until then?” Dudley looked surprised that Harry would take an interest in his problems. “Well, I asked around a bit. I found some people down in the village who know about things like that. They got me into the sixth form college in Ottery St Mary, so I’ll be able to take my exams even though I haven’t finished Smeltings.” “Wow, Dudley. I never thought I’d say this, but you’re really brave to do this on your own,” Harry said, not bothering to keep the admiration from his voice. “How are you getting to Ottery St Mary?” “There’s one bus that goes between the two villages, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. I ride both,” Dudley explained. “Classes started the second week of September, but because I’d miss some planning meetings, I wanted to take the course on line. There was nothing set up, so Tonks kept me up to date. She wants me to take my A Levels as much as Mr and Mrs Weasley do.” Harry was quiet for a time. “I’m really glad you know what you want to do with the rest of your life,” he said softly. “What?” Dudley quirked an eyebrow at him. “And you don’t?” Harry sighed hollowly. “Right now I can’t make plans for my life past the big duel with Voldemort, so for all intents and purposes, I don’t have a future.” Dudley looked at the floor. “What... what do you want to do if you win?” “I was told I’d make a good Auror,” Harry said, gazing out the window. “But I just don’t know...” Dudley sat down again, picked up his laptop and began typing. The two boys lapsed into silence. As Harry once again lost his battle with his heavy eyelids, he heard Dudley tell him, “I hope you win that duel.” ~ Time, Harry decided, had a way of making things right again. Over the next two weeks, he slowly began feeling more like himself. He felt stronger and stayed awake a little longer each day, but his progress was so slow that he began to wonder if he’d ever get out of bed for more than five minutes at a time. Madam Pomfrey, who came often in the evenings to check on him, agreed when Harry mentioned this to her. “You’re completely justified with your concern, Harry,” she said as she prepared to leave. “But it all comes down to those potions the Death Eaters put in your food. The enormous number of toxins left in your body has taken a long time to dissipate. Tonight’s screening shows that they’re finally down to a more tolerable level.” “So what does that mean, exactly?” Harry asked uneasily. “It means that Mrs Weasley can stop worrying that the food she’s preparing for you might cause an adverse reaction,” she told him matter-of-factly. “You mean she’s been worrying about making me sick?” Harry asked, frowning. “That’s correct. Those potions were designed to react to certain types of proteins and carbohydrates and if Mrs Weasley gave you as little as a tablespoonful of the wrong food you would most likely lapse into a coma.” Harry stared at Dumbledore’s urn. “Now I understand why someone is always with me when I eat,” he murmured as he finally understood the gravity of his situation. Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat, drawing Harry’s attention back to their conversation. “Molly tells me you’ve resumed doing your Occlumency exercises before bed. Are they helping at all?” she asked, changing the subject. Harry shook his head. “No,” he admitted, “but I’m fine. Really...” The scowl on Madam Pomfrey’s face told Harry he’d just said something stupid. “Recovery from an ordeal such as yours is going to take time, Harry. I know you’re having nightmares and that you sleep with the lights on. You’ve just admitted the Occlumency exercises aren’t helping.” She sighed. “You don’t have to shoulder the after-effects of your kidnapping alone, Harry. There are people in this house who want to help you, but if you don’t share your hurts and fears we have no way of knowing what will help and what won’t.” Harry felt defiant as he said angrily, “I don’t need help. I can do this on my own.” “Horse feathers! I don’t believe that for a minute.” She perched on the end of Harry’s bed and stared him in the eye. “You wouldn’t have started this conversation if you didn’t want help. Now make that request I know you’re bursting to make so I can go back to Hogwarts.” Harry sighed. “All right. I actually have two.” Madam Pomfrey waited. “I want to go downstairs.” “I agree it’s time, so tomorrow you shall go.” “And I want to see Ginny.” “That’s easier said than done these days. I’ll see what I can do, because I can see you both desperately need some time together,” Madam Pomfrey said sadly. Alarmed, Harry asked, “What’s wrong with Ginny? Why can’t she come home?” “She wants to come home, but can’t get permission. Hogwarts is more like Azkaban than ever these days. I only hope the Death Eaters don’t kill someone before the year is out,” Madam Pomfrey said more to herself than to Harry. He could see how concerned she was and more than anything else, it made him determined to physically recover by Christmas. The sooner he could finish the task Dumbledore had entrusted to him, the better. Therefore, despite being bothered by dark rooms and nightmares and constantly shying away from anyone who wanted to touch him, Harry pushed himself to regain the body he’d lost during his captivity. Progress was slow, measured at first by the number of stairs he could negotiate each day until one day in the middle of December he found himself sitting at the kitchen table enjoying lunch with Mrs Weasley for the first time since his rescue nearly two months earlier. That night, much to his delight, he was sitting by the hearth as first Ron, then Hermione and finally Ginny spun to a stop and emerged from the Floo. As Ginny began brushing off the soot, Harry rose to his feet and stood quietly with his arms held wide until she looked up. She gasped in surprise, happiness replacing the tiredness in her face. “Harry!” she exclaimed and then, with the blazing look Harry always associated with a happy Ginny, she was in his arms and they were kissing. “I’m missed you,” she gasped between kisses. Harry clung to her, unable to speak. Feelings he’d buried deep within himself during his captivity were stirring as the connection Ginny had forged through their necklaces rekindled with every touch of her lips. Ginny must have felt it, too, for she broke the kiss and nestled her head on his chest murmuring, “I thought I’d lost you.” Harry kissed the top of her head. “I may have lost the phoenix, but you didn’t lose me.” Ginny’s head jerked upwards. “What happened to it?” Harry sighed. “I don’t know. The Death Eaters may have discovered it when they were attaching me to that table. I haven’t seen it in a very long time.” Ginny stepped back, fumbling in her pocket. When she held up his phoenix pendant, Harry felt his eyes grow wide. “What— Where— How?” he sputtered, unable to reign in his astonishment. She grinned as she undid the clasp and secured the necklace around his neck. “You gave it back to me for safe-keeping last summer. You didn’t lose it and the Death Eaters definitely didn’t take it.” The pendant had melted from sight as it had settled around his neck, but he could feel its magic, solid and comforting, suffusing through his body, helping to heal the damage the Death Eaters had inflicted. “Thank you, Ginny,” he murmured, taking her in his arms again and holding her close. “Thank you for keeping it for me.” Ron cleared his throat, causing them to let go of each other. “Budge over, Ginny. You can snog Harry’s brains out later,” he interrupted. “Let Hermione and me have a little time with him too.” Ginny blushed prettily and trailed a hand down Harry’s arm, her fingertips lingering in his as she stepped back. The sultry look in her eyes made him smile. “We’ll talk more later on,” she murmured. Hermione now came over and opened her arms slowly, inviting him into her embrace. “I won’t break,” Harry told her as he stepped forwards. Her expression was cautious as she said, “We were told you don’t like being touched any more.” Harry sighed. “Generally I don’t, but it’s different with the two of you. I owe you my life. I know you won’t hurt me,” he told her, trying to help her understand. “Please, I need you both.” That was all the encouragement Hermione needed. She rapidly closed the distance between them and threw her arms round him. “We’ll try our best to help you through this,” she promised. Harry looked at Ron over Hermione’s head and found him waiting for his turn. As Hermione left to put her things in Ginny’s room, Harry extended a hand to his best friend. Ron grasped it tightly and used it to pull Harry into another hug. Slapping him loudly on the back he said gruffly, so only Harry could hear, “Don’t you ever scare us like that again, you hear?” Taken aback by the depth of Ron’s greeting, Harry could only say, “Er...” Mrs Weasley chose that moment call to Ron to take his and Ginny’s things up to their rooms before dinner. As Ron disappeared up the stairs Harry held out his arm to Ginny. “Let’s go help your mum,” he said. “I can’t remember exactly where she keeps the silver and the plates.” Ginny closed her fingers gently around his arm and together they went into the kitchen, Harry leaning heavily on her for support. She seemed to understand his intentions and guided him to his chair where he sat until she had gathered everything he needed to lay the table. Mrs Weasley smiled her thanks and soon had Ginny carrying over platters and bowls loaded with food for the meal. When everything was ready, she called the rest of the family and soon everyone was gathered round the veritable feast she had prepared. Harry found himself sandwiched between Ron and Ginny who both looked very concerned when he took only small amounts of everything. Harry decided to make light of his situation instead of troubling them with the bald fact that food still didn’t taste right or sit well in his stomach sometimes. Smiling over at Ginny he told her, “I taste everything and let Dudley eat what I don’t want.” He heard Dudley snort into his plate as he added, “What Dudley doesn’t eat, Ron will.” From his other side, Ron exclaimed, “Hey, that’s not fair!” which had the rest of the table joining in Harry’s laughter. After dinner everyone gathered in the lounge. Ron set up the chess board and challenged Percy to a game with Dudley and Hermione as their cheering section. Harry and Ginny chose a corner of the sofa while Mrs Weasley charmed her knitting needles and Mr Weasley read a book Hermione had given him before dinner. The peaceful scene gave Harry a sense of great contentment, but he knew he wouldn’t be enjoying it for long; the familiar heaviness was tugging at his eyelids and he soon leaned his head back against the cushions. “Harry,” Ginny said, patting her lap, “why don’t you rest your head here?” He raised an eyebrow at her as he asked, “You sure? I’m likely to fall asleep.” “No matter,” she told him, a smile curving her lips upward. “I like it when you’re near enough to run my fingers through your hair. Besides, I hear this has been a big day for you, coming downstairs twice. I want to hear all about it.” Harry lay down and put his head in Ginny’s lap. “It was. My goal for the day was just to have lunch down here, and I think I more than surpassed it.” His eyes fluttered closed. “I just wish I didn’t get so tired so easily.” “It’s OK to be tired, Harry. You’re still recovering. Madam Pomfrey has been keeping me updated on your progress and she seems very happy with how you’re doing,” Ginny said. She ran a hand through his hair and he sighed contentedly. “You... you look so much better than you did when we found you,” she continued, keeping her voice low. “Madam Pomfrey’s reports have been my life-line these last two months. I’ve been so worried...” Harry opened his eyes. “Now you know I am better, Ginny,” he said. “Seeing you has made all the difference in the world,” he added believing every word. Ginny’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Oh Harry, do you really mean that?” “I do. When I held you earlier I could feel us reconnecting and even though I’m worn out right now, something inside me just wants to go, go, go!” he said, revelling in realization that he actually did feel stronger somehow. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m wearing her phoenix pendant again... I hope so... She eyed him curiously. “Have you... have you tried doing magic lately?” “No, how could I? I Banished my wand somewhere to keep the Death Eaters from getting it and the little wand Dumbledore had—” he inhaled sharply at the memory “—wasn’t very powerful at all even though it was dead useful.” Ginny shifted and pulled something from her pocket. She held it out to him saying, “This might help.” Harry couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “My wand!” he gasped in wide-eyed wonder as he reached up to take it from her. The worn wood felt warm in his grasp and his hand tingled as he felt the magic flow between the two. “How... how did you get it?” he breathed, feeling suddenly complete. A tear slid down Ginny’s nose and she brushed it aside. “It appeared right in front of me on the afternoon of your birthday,” she said in a choked voice. “That was how I knew something had happened to you. I knew you’d part with it only if you were in terrible trouble.” She looked away, crying softly. “It was the worst moment of my life,” she sobbed, loud enough to draw the attention of the others in the room. Harry sat up and, still holding his wand, enfolded Ginny in his arms. Over her shoulder he caught Ron’s eye and saw that the other boy was smiling and holding Hermione’s hand as she, too, sniffed and conjured a handkerchief. Eventually, Ginny stopped crying. Harry held her close until she suggested they go up to bed. They bid the others good-night and as they started up the dark staircase, Harry lit his wand. “I had no idea how much I missed this,” he commented as they paused on the landing outside Ginny’s door. “It was like a piece of you was missing, right?” she asked. Startled, he asked, “Yeah. How do you know that?” Ginny studied the worn patches in the wooden floor. “I didn’t feel whole while you were missing,” she admitted. She looked back up at him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “Hedwig and I missed you so much that we kept your things exactly where you left them in your suite this summer. She protected them while I was in class. When Mum sent word that Hedwig had to come here, I packed everything—eventhepillowthatsmelledlikeyou—and kept it locked in my trunk until I could give them back. Would you like your trunk and your rucksack now or tomorrow?” Harry’s ears had suddenly become hot at the mention of his pillow. Now he sputtered, “I—I’d like them now, please.” Ginny opened the door and led him inside. Harry had never been in her room, so he looked around curiously. The walls, which were painted a pale yellow, were covered in still pictures of magical creatures. Harry found a hippogriff, several unicorns, two dragons and a family of owls. Ginny’s bed was nestled in the far corner and over it hung a large notice board which she had covered in wizarding pictures and a poster of the Holyhead Harpies. Another poster, this one of the Weird Sisters, adorned the wall opposite and was surrounded by the family of owls. Most of the pictures on the notice board were of the Weasley family, but there were more than a few of himself, Hermione, Luna, Neville and several of her other friends, all taken at Hogwarts. Harry leaned against the wardrobe and let the feeling of the room wash over him. “I like your room,” he told her as she unlocked her trunk and extracted two tiny objects. She handed him his trunk and rucksack. “Charlie painted the creatures for me about ten years ago,” she said, sitting on the corner of her bed and letting her gaze travel over the walls. “Mum had originally painted the room pink with multi-coloured butterflies flitting around, but their motion made me sick so often that we convinced her to let him redecorate for me. I had him leave a small patch unpainted; it’s there in the corner.” Ginny pointed to the corner behind the door and Harry hazarded a glance. Ginny was right; the motion of the butterflies made his stomach feel a little woozy. “Mum was rather chagrined at my choice of decorations, but she’s let me keep them and now this room wouldn’t feel like mine if I took them down.” Harry smiled. “I like them,” he said. “They fit you better than the butterflies.” He yawned hugely. “Thanks for keeping these for me, Ginny.” He waved the tiny trunk at her and turned towards the door, pausing when he remembered there should have been a third object. “Oh, where’s the pillow?” Ginny blushed. “It’s on my bed at Hogwarts,” she squeaked. Her admission made him feel warm and happy inside. “Good, just where it should stay,” he said, surprising her. “I’ll see you in the morning, then?” Ginny crossed the room and stopped in front of him, her eyes asking permission to do something. “There’s no need to be shy about hugging me, Ginny,” he said, stepping closer and opening his arms. They came together and shared a chaste kiss, one that was much slower and definitely less frantic than their earlier one. They only broke apart when he felt her shudder. Tears were again rolling silently down her cheeks. “What’s wrong?” “I’m just so happy right now, Harry,” she sniffed. “Me, too,” he said as she gently pushed out of his arms. He turned to go upstairs. “I love you,” they said together and suddenly they were giggling and holding each other again. They shared one last kiss before they parted. That night, Harry had only pleasant dreams. ~ The next day, despite the fact that he wanted to spend as much time with Ginny as he possibly could, Harry sought out Ron and Hermione. When he finally found them alone in Ron’s room early in the afternoon, he locked and sound-proofed the door. “What’s up?” Ron asked as Harry sank onto the bed. “Voldemort,” Harry said shortly. “What about You Know Who?” Hermione asked. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow, but she ignored it. Briefly, Harry told them about the information Professor Dumbledore had entrusted to him. He ended his report saying, “I think I’ll be strong enough by New Year’s Eve to go to the graveyard. Can I count on you two to watch my back?” “Of course,” Hermione said, as Ron said, “You bet.” “Thanks,” Harry said, meaning it with all his heart. “You know we’re always up for the challenge,” Ron said. “I know you are,” Harry said, yawning. Hermione’s eyebrows rose a little. “I’m going down to take a quick nap,” Harry explained. He flicked his wand, cancelling the sound-proofing and unsealing the door. “We’ll see you later, then,” she said. “Later,” Harry said, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wall feeling weak and apprehensive. I’ve got to do this... I promised Dumbledore... I just don’t know if I’ll be strong enough. He made his way down to his bedroom and lay down on his bed. No doubts, Potter. You’ll be ready. You have to be... On that note, Harry drifted off to sleep. ~ Ron, Hermione and Ginny left after dinner on Sunday. The four teens clung to each other until Mr Weasley reminded them that Professor McGonagall was waiting in her office for them. Ginny let Ron and Hermione go before her, lingering next to Harry, her hand in his. “I’ll see you next weekend,” Harry said, giving her a little shove towards the hearth. She nodded and stepped into the flames and Harry climbed the stairs to bed without a word to anyone else. He was awakened the next morning by Dudley pounding on his door. The sound reminded Harry of how he used to wake up when they lived on Privet Drive and he cringed when his cousin did a perfect imitation of Uncle Vernon yelling, “Wake up, boy! You have a visitor downstairs.” Harry scrambled out of bed and was soon clattering down to the kitchen. He grinned when he discovered who his visitor was. “It’s good to see you, Mr Dumbledore,” he said, sitting across from the elderly barkeep. “Please, call me Aberforth. Mr Dumbledore was my brother,” he said. “How are you doing?” “I’m doing all right,” Harry said warily. “What brings you so far south?” Aberforth sighed. “Unpleasant business that I’ve been putting off for far too long even though the Ministry Death Eaters threatened to confiscate them,” he said, extracting two tiny wooden boxes from his waistcoat pocket and setting them on the table. “Come to the pub when you get back to school and I’ll tell you all about it,” he added when Harry raised an eyebrow. Aberforth pulled out his wand and returned the boxes to their normal size: one, a beautifully carved case, was long and thin while the other was large and square. “Harry, I think you know what these contain. My brother left instructions that they be delivered by me to you and only you.” He opened the case and took out a piece of official-looking parchment. “My solicitor has asked me to have you sign this Receipt of Transfer that certifies that you are indeed Harry James Potter and that I have hand delivered both boxes to you in person.” Harry read the parchment’s archaic language, which made no sense to him at all. Finally, he glanced at Mr Weasley, who had taken a seat a little way down the table, for help. Mr Weasley moved closer and took the parchment. “It’s as he says, Harry. It’s all right to sign it,” he said, handing Harry a bent quill and a small bottle of ink. Harry signed and gave the parchment back. Aberforth shoved the boxes across the table. “There’s one other thing I’d like to discuss with you, Harry,” Aberforth said, looking uncomfortable. “Last July, I believe you went with my brother to our family home. Am I correct?” Harry nodded. “Well, I have inherited the place and don’t want the property.” “Why don’t you want it?” Harry asked, stunned. “Can’t stand the place,” Aberforth said gruffly. “Too many unpleasant memories left over from a very long time ago.” He pulled a key ring from his pocket and put it on the table. “For the price of one Galleon I’m willing to sell you the house, its contents minus the portrait of my sister that hangs above the sitting room fireplace, and the grounds. Will you assent to this transaction?” Harry stared first at Aberforth, and then at Mr Weasley. Both men looked at him expectantly. “What will happen to the property if I don’t buy it?” he asked. “I’ll sell the place at auction for whatever I can get for it,” Aberforth told him. “However, I know my brother would rather I sold it to you. Much of what is in that house was accumulated by him, and I don’t know enough about the contents to make any decisions about what to keep and what to throw away.” “What would I do with a second house? I already own one,” Harry protested, thinking of the house at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. “You’ll never live in the Godric’s Hollow Potter house, Harry,” Aberforth said, smiling. “The villagers would throw such a wobbly if you privatized their shrine to your parents that you’d be run out of town.” “I hadn’t thought of that,” Harry said. He looked at the key ring and then at Mr Weasley’s neutral face, knowing that he wasn’t going to get any help from him. Finally, Harry asked, “Mr Weasley, may I borrow a Galleon, please? I’ll pay you back as soon as I can get upstairs to my trunk.” Mr Weasley fished in his pocket for the coin and handed it to Harry who passed it across the table to Aberforth. The old man pocketed it, took out another piece of parchment and passed it and the key ring back across the table to Harry. “Thank you, Harry,” he said. “I know Albus is up there somewhere cheering. You can take up to ten days to sign that parchment and get it back to the solicitor in Godric’s Hollow.” When Harry nodded, he pushed away from the table and stuck out his hand for Harry to shake. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Harry. When the war is over we’ll give my brother a proper send-off. You, of all people, deserve to have that chapter of your life properly closed.” Harry followed Aberforth to the fireplace. “I couldn’t agree with you more, sir,” he said. A moment later, Aberforth Dumbledore was gone and Harry was left standing before the empty fireplace, staring at the key to his second house. A/N: It seems that sometimes we authors are given ideas for our stories through ordinary, every-day conversations. So it is with this chapter. Through a series of IM sessions with my friend Kelleypen concerning her son who enlisted in the US Army, I conceived the idea of Dudley joining the British Army after he didn’t go back to Smeltings. Therefore, thank you Kelleypen for your friendship and pre-beta help as well as your encouragement. I also owe a big thank you to another IM friend, Athar, who helped me find the enlistment requirements for the British Army. She was also a big help with straightening me out about which exams were necessary and where a school drop-out could get the necessary education to take his A Levels. The conversation we had netted me more information in seven minutes than a whole hour of searching the internet did! I also need to thank Jedi34 and GhostWriter for the splendid pre-beta job they did on this chapter. Their encouraging remarks keep me going when I get discouraged over the writing of a chapter and they both leant a sympathetic ear when I was having trouble finding the information I needed for the chapter. The other person I’m sending thank yous to is Aggiebell, my beta. We had a couple of discussions about the use of certain verbs in this chapter and finally came to a consensus. Thanks Aggiebell for keeping me on my toes!
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