A New Definition of Family - Chapter One
Here is the first chapter of my first fan fiction!
A new person enters Harry's life; one with ties to his parents, and to his enemies. Starts in the summer after Third Year and becomes a teeny bit AU from there.
Rated PG-13 until later chapters. Main pairing is Sirius/other character, minor pairings include Lupin/Tonks, Harry/Hermione
A New Definition of Family
by RahNee
Chapter 1: Upward Bound
Disclaimer: Well, I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters. Big surprise, I know. Any characters and spells you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are my babies.
Harry lay on his back and tried not to move in the oppressive summer heat. His movements were languid and his thoughts followed suit. He had had three weeks to contemplate the amazing things that had happened in those last few days of the end of the term. Third year had been quite eventful, but there were only so many times one could mull over the events before they became, well, rather mundane. Briefly he wondered when his friends would contact him…he’d not heard the littlest peep from anyone in the wizarding community. The thought joined others that swirled endlessly in a slow circle like water trying to drain down a clogged pipe…he tried to get worked up about it, but failed miserably as his mind followed the example of his body and lolled about lazily. Harry might have felt less stifled in his room at #4 Privet Drive had the window not been nailed shut.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
Harry turned his head slightly to hear as his uncle opened the front door.
“BOY!” growled Uncle Vernon, “Get down here!”
Slightly faster than a lizard in torpor, Harry swung out of bed and made his way downstairs. Standing in the hallway was a plain looking woman with brown hair in a business suit. Vernon had a frown on his face. There appeared to be a confrontation of some sort going on. This cannot be good, thought Harry.
“Mr. Dursley, I can assure you that the Upward Bound UK program is not considered soft on troubled boys. I’m disappointed that you don’t seem to have the confidence in the program that your letter to us implied,” the strange woman said.
“I was under the impression that the program was run by ex-military types, not mere slips of girls like you...”
The woman plastered on a fake smile, “I assure you, sir, that I am a counselor trained in the rehabilitation of teenagers with personality disorders, and that I am quite capable of handling your nephew’s situation.” When she saw that Vernon was not convinced she added, “I am ex-Green Beret.”
Vernon brightened a little. Harry finally shook off the paralyzing shock long enough to say “Hang on, what is going on here?” Vernon opened his mouth, but the woman interrupted.
“Mr. Potter, your uncle was fortunate enough to secure the last open spot for you in our summer program for delinquent teens. Be advised that this opportunity is a rare one. From what your uncle has reported, you are lucky indeed to be offered this last chance before you end up incarcerated in the juvenile justice system. You have ten minutes to pack your things, and then we are leaving.”
Harry gaped as his sluggish mind scrambled to assimilate what he’d just heard. He looked remarkably like a fish that had found itself in the desert.
“Wait, Miss…” Vernon started.
“Levy,” she supplied.
“Miss Levy, is it possible to arrange for you to take the boy to catch his train to his boarding school? When the program is over, I mean?”
Miss Levy paused to contemplate this. “Which school? What train station? What day?”
“St. Brutus’ Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. Kings Cross Station, 1st of September.”
“Well, the program ends on the 31st of August, but yes, yes I think I will be able to arrange it.”
“Splendid!” Dursley beamed, thinking that Petunia would be pleased that he had rid them of that horrid boy for the rest of the year.
Miss Levy turned to Harry. “Shouldn’t you be packing?”
Harry sputtered and turned an even darker shade of red with anger. His mind had by now slipped out of its muddled haze, and his body decided to follow the example. He turned to his uncle and shouted, “You can’t do this!”
Miss Levy proceeded to demonstrate just how competent she was in dealing with recalcitrant teens. She leapt in front of Vernon and faced Harry. She grabbed him by the shoulders, looked him straight in the eye and said, “Mr. Potter, do not make your situation worse! Please do what I say. Now!” He glared at her, but his mouth almost dropped in shock again when he saw her barely wink at him. She gave a slight jerk of her head, indicating the stairs and quirked her left eyebrow.
Harry’s mind raced and his heart pounded. What was going on? She wiggled her eyebrows up and down and the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly before she turned around to Vernon, took his arm, turned him toward the kitchen and said, “Mr. Dursley, there is a bit of paperwork…”
Harry turned and started up the stairs when he saw his cousin on the upstairs landing, smirking for all he was worth. “Didn’t see THAT coming, did you, freak?” Dudley chortled.
Harry had the presence of mind to glare at Dudley and stomp a bit as he went to his little room and slammed the door. Hedwig looked up, startled and indignant and almost ruffled her feathers in protest, but the languor that had held the room in its spell was still in effect. She merely glared. She was not happy about being imprisoned in her cage the last three weeks. Harry understood how she felt.
He stood for a moment in the stifling heat, brow creased in thought until his eyes fell upon an envelope on his bed. That had not been there before! It was addressed to
Harry Potter
The Smallest Bedroom
#4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
He turned it over and was surprised to find elegant handwriting:
Mr. Potter, neither my owl nor I was able to get to you or you would’ve had warning. I had to wait until I was in the house before I could deliver this to you. Sorry.
It was signed “Miss Levy” and Harry did not miss the quotation marks around her name.
He tore open the envelope.
Dear Harry,
I’m sure you won’t object to a little scheme to get you away from the Dursleys a bit early this summer. On 23 July, one of my associates will be arriving at your home posing as a director for a camp for juvenile delinquents. I am counting on you to play along and make it look believable.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry immediately opened his trunk and began packing his belongings. His eyes widened in surprise as each item he put in shrunk down to a tenth of its size! How was she able to do that? She had not been up to his bedroom. He had not seen her with a wand…
A niggling thought finally broke through to the surface; what if she was an imposter? Sure, his window had been nailed shut, but a detail so minor had never stopped Dumbledore from getting a letter to him before. His letter did not specify if his “associate” was a man, or a woman. This woman could have intercepted Dumbledore’s letter and used it to her own advantage. Why else would she have to wait till she was in the house to deliver it?
Harry’s mind worked furiously. He grabbed a scrap of parchment and scribbled a quick note to the Weasleys. He would play along, and if he found himself in the clutches of one of Voldemort’s followers he would just have to make sure he could let Hedwig loose with the letter.
Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Miss Levy turned at the sound of Harry’s trunk ka-thunk ka-thunk ka-thunking down the steps. The trunk was actually pretty light, thanks to the spell on all the contents, but Harry could not help taking out his anger on the Dursleys in a childish, but satisfying, way. For all they knew, they were sending him to some sadistic “tough love” type program for criminals! And by the looks on their faces, they were glad.
Miss Levy gave a little gasp at the sight of Hedwig in her cage. “Uhm…a pet owl? That’s a bit unusual! I’m afraid the pet will have to stay here.”
“NO!” shouted Harry, Vernon and Petunia in unison.
Miss Levy huffed out an impatient sigh and said, “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.” She pulled a cell phone out of her briefcase, flipped it open and began dialing as she strode out the front door to the stoop. “Reception.” She stated over her shoulder as the door closed. Three people stood frozen as they listened to her muffled conversation. She swung the door open and entered. “They will agree to board the bird on the condition that we can use it in our animal therapy program for the more mentally disturbed boys.” It seemed to Harry that her eyes sparkled just a bit with amusement as she looked at him.
“Done!” snapped Petunia, eager to get her nephew, his owl and his trunk out of her home.
“What?!” Harry cried, playing his part, “they can’t subject Hedwig to insane boys!”
“BOY!” growled Vernon in warning. Harry shut his mouth. He wanted to get himself, his owl and his trunk out of this home just as badly.
“Well then,” Miss Levy said brightly, “you have all the contact numbers with the paperwork. We will make sure the boy gets to his train. He is packed and it looks like everything is in order. We’ll just be on our way then.”
She paused to let the family say their good-byes. No one said a word. Suddenly, Dudley came stomping down the stairs and sneered, “Hope you have a grueling summer, freak!”
Miss Levy appeared a bit taken aback, but recovered her composure and announced firmly, “He will have a character building summer. I assure you, Mr. Dursley, you will be quite satisfied with our program.”
“I will be quite satisfied if you would just get this miscreant out of my house.”
“Yes, uh, well then, uh, come along Mr. Potter!” She turned and walked purposely out the door with Harry in tow.
As Harry stowed the trunk in the boot of a rather old and worn car, the Dursleys lined up happily on the front stoop. Harry got himself and Hedwig in the back seat, and he turned to glare at his family as Miss Levy drove off. Petunia hugged Vernon while Dudley pumped his arm up and down several times in the air. Harry slumped down in the seat, disgruntled and dejected.
“Well, they really are a sodding lot, aren’t they?” Miss Levy stated, her voice tight with anger. Harry grunted. “Give me a minute or two to get us out of the neighborhood and we’ll get this sorted out, right?” she asked as she glanced at Harry in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah,” he quietly replied.
She swung into the car park of a shopping center and circled around the back, stopping the car when it was out of sight of the public. “Finite incantatum.” She turned to Harry as the Glamourie Spell wore off to reveal a woman with short dark red hair and large green eyes. The color of her hair and eyes reminded him of his mother so forcibly that he felt a sharp stab to his heart.
“My name is Arinna Dunlevy, and we have just successfully completed the kidnapping portion of this adventure!”
Her words did nothing to boost his confidence that she was not an imposter. He attempted to hide his disquieting thoughts and stated, lamely, “I’m Harry Potter.”
Her eyes twinkled slightly again. “I am relieved to hear that! If I had accidentally nabbed Dudley Dursley instead, I’d never hear the end of it!” She peered at him closely. He was quiet, and nervous, in her assessment. She was unsure why. She pointed to a bag of clothes in the foot well of the back seat. “Could you hand me those? And you are welcome to get in the front seat.”
Harry grabbed the bag, and moved to the front. As he handed her the bag, he saw a wand for the first time. She murmured an incantation and suddenly she was dressed in the clothes from the bag: jeans and a short sleeved top. The business suit was now in the bag. “Whew! I hate stuffy clothes. Now I am back in my element.”
Harry was silent. He was nervously waiting for the other shoe to drop. It just couldn’t be this easy to escape the clutches of the Dursleys. Something had to be amiss…
“Right.” Arinna took a deep breath. “Well. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, so would you like to start, or should I launch into the entire story from the beginning?”
Summoning his courage, Harry turned and looked right into her eyes. “Who exactly are you working for?” he asked coldly.
Arinna was taken aback. She should have realized the kid would be paranoid. He had every right to be. But how had she aroused his suspicions? Well, using words like “kidnapping” and “nabbed” probably didn’t help, suggested her mind. She took another deep breath. Go slowly, she told herself, don’t freak him out. Too late! countered another part of her mind.
“I am here as a favor to your headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. A small group of people whom he trusts came up with this little plan to get you out, and it was felt that I was the best person to execute said plan.”
“Why didn’t Professor Dumbledore’s little warning get to me in time? Did you have anything to do with that?”
Ah, so that’s where I slipped. Stupid mistake, Rinna! They had warned you he was sharp-witted. She leveled her gaze at him. “Yes. I’m afraid I did.”
Harry made to get out of the car, but she grabbed his arm with lightning reflexes. “Wait up, and let me explain…”
“Not unless you can convince me you are not working for Voldemort!”
She did not flinch at the sound of the name. Harry’s heart stopped for a moment.
You’re bungling it! She screamed at herself. She let go of his arm and leaned back into her seat. She tried to appear non-threatening. “Harry,” she sighed.
Something in the sound of her voice made him stop his fumbling at the door latch. Was it sadness? Pain? He shook his head to clear his thoughts as she started to speak.
“I am not working for that effing bastard Voldemort!” she said fiercely. “I made the mistake of offering to deliver Dumbledore’s letter myself when it became clear that the owls weren’t reaching you. I didn’t count on that shit of an aunt of yours and her pig husband not ever letting you out of the house! I finally decided to just deliver it when I got there. I’m sorry, Harry, but I seriously underestimated how you would react. It makes perfect sense that you’d be suspicious of me, what with all you’ve dealt with where Voldemort is concerned, and with your recent experience of being hunted by Sirius Black…” Her voice hitched ever so slightly. She paused to breathe.
He wanted to protest, No, Sirius wasn’t hunting ME! But the niggling thought interrupted again; she said Voldemort’s name without nary a stutter, TWICE! He grabbed for the door latch again.
“Wait! Wait!” she said desperately. “I can prove to you that I am a friend, not a foe!”
Again he stopped at the tone in her voice. Part of his brain was berating him run while you can, idiot! but he turned and looked at her. Her green eyes were wild with concern. “How?” he asked.
She reached for the glove box and pulled out a photograph. She silently handed it to Harry. He looked down at it and saw two teenaged girls, both with long red hair and green eyes. At first you would think them sisters because of the similarity in the hair and eye color, but on second glance it became obvious that these two had completely different features. The one with almond shaped eyes and a smattering of freckles was his mother. The one with big eyes and porcelain skin and delicate features was clearly a younger version of the woman sitting next to him. He watched as the two girls laughed, hugged each other and then mugged for the camera. The picture spoke of deep friendship and love, frivolity and hope, a bond of sisterhood.
Arinna spoke in a near whisper, “Your mum was my dearest friend.”
A/N: Did I pique your interest? Want to read more? I would LOVE to hear what you think!
On to Chapter Two
A new person enters Harry's life; one with ties to his parents, and to his enemies. Starts in the summer after Third Year and becomes a teeny bit AU from there.
Rated PG-13 until later chapters. Main pairing is Sirius/other character, minor pairings include Lupin/Tonks, Harry/Hermione
A New Definition of Family
by RahNee
Chapter 1: Upward Bound
Disclaimer: Well, I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters. Big surprise, I know. Any characters and spells you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are my babies.
Harry lay on his back and tried not to move in the oppressive summer heat. His movements were languid and his thoughts followed suit. He had had three weeks to contemplate the amazing things that had happened in those last few days of the end of the term. Third year had been quite eventful, but there were only so many times one could mull over the events before they became, well, rather mundane. Briefly he wondered when his friends would contact him…he’d not heard the littlest peep from anyone in the wizarding community. The thought joined others that swirled endlessly in a slow circle like water trying to drain down a clogged pipe…he tried to get worked up about it, but failed miserably as his mind followed the example of his body and lolled about lazily. Harry might have felt less stifled in his room at #4 Privet Drive had the window not been nailed shut.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
Harry turned his head slightly to hear as his uncle opened the front door.
“BOY!” growled Uncle Vernon, “Get down here!”
Slightly faster than a lizard in torpor, Harry swung out of bed and made his way downstairs. Standing in the hallway was a plain looking woman with brown hair in a business suit. Vernon had a frown on his face. There appeared to be a confrontation of some sort going on. This cannot be good, thought Harry.
“Mr. Dursley, I can assure you that the Upward Bound UK program is not considered soft on troubled boys. I’m disappointed that you don’t seem to have the confidence in the program that your letter to us implied,” the strange woman said.
“I was under the impression that the program was run by ex-military types, not mere slips of girls like you...”
The woman plastered on a fake smile, “I assure you, sir, that I am a counselor trained in the rehabilitation of teenagers with personality disorders, and that I am quite capable of handling your nephew’s situation.” When she saw that Vernon was not convinced she added, “I am ex-Green Beret.”
Vernon brightened a little. Harry finally shook off the paralyzing shock long enough to say “Hang on, what is going on here?” Vernon opened his mouth, but the woman interrupted.
“Mr. Potter, your uncle was fortunate enough to secure the last open spot for you in our summer program for delinquent teens. Be advised that this opportunity is a rare one. From what your uncle has reported, you are lucky indeed to be offered this last chance before you end up incarcerated in the juvenile justice system. You have ten minutes to pack your things, and then we are leaving.”
Harry gaped as his sluggish mind scrambled to assimilate what he’d just heard. He looked remarkably like a fish that had found itself in the desert.
“Wait, Miss…” Vernon started.
“Levy,” she supplied.
“Miss Levy, is it possible to arrange for you to take the boy to catch his train to his boarding school? When the program is over, I mean?”
Miss Levy paused to contemplate this. “Which school? What train station? What day?”
“St. Brutus’ Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. Kings Cross Station, 1st of September.”
“Well, the program ends on the 31st of August, but yes, yes I think I will be able to arrange it.”
“Splendid!” Dursley beamed, thinking that Petunia would be pleased that he had rid them of that horrid boy for the rest of the year.
Miss Levy turned to Harry. “Shouldn’t you be packing?”
Harry sputtered and turned an even darker shade of red with anger. His mind had by now slipped out of its muddled haze, and his body decided to follow the example. He turned to his uncle and shouted, “You can’t do this!”
Miss Levy proceeded to demonstrate just how competent she was in dealing with recalcitrant teens. She leapt in front of Vernon and faced Harry. She grabbed him by the shoulders, looked him straight in the eye and said, “Mr. Potter, do not make your situation worse! Please do what I say. Now!” He glared at her, but his mouth almost dropped in shock again when he saw her barely wink at him. She gave a slight jerk of her head, indicating the stairs and quirked her left eyebrow.
Harry’s mind raced and his heart pounded. What was going on? She wiggled her eyebrows up and down and the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly before she turned around to Vernon, took his arm, turned him toward the kitchen and said, “Mr. Dursley, there is a bit of paperwork…”
Harry turned and started up the stairs when he saw his cousin on the upstairs landing, smirking for all he was worth. “Didn’t see THAT coming, did you, freak?” Dudley chortled.
Harry had the presence of mind to glare at Dudley and stomp a bit as he went to his little room and slammed the door. Hedwig looked up, startled and indignant and almost ruffled her feathers in protest, but the languor that had held the room in its spell was still in effect. She merely glared. She was not happy about being imprisoned in her cage the last three weeks. Harry understood how she felt.
He stood for a moment in the stifling heat, brow creased in thought until his eyes fell upon an envelope on his bed. That had not been there before! It was addressed to
Harry Potter
The Smallest Bedroom
#4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
He turned it over and was surprised to find elegant handwriting:
Mr. Potter, neither my owl nor I was able to get to you or you would’ve had warning. I had to wait until I was in the house before I could deliver this to you. Sorry.
It was signed “Miss Levy” and Harry did not miss the quotation marks around her name.
He tore open the envelope.
Dear Harry,
I’m sure you won’t object to a little scheme to get you away from the Dursleys a bit early this summer. On 23 July, one of my associates will be arriving at your home posing as a director for a camp for juvenile delinquents. I am counting on you to play along and make it look believable.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry immediately opened his trunk and began packing his belongings. His eyes widened in surprise as each item he put in shrunk down to a tenth of its size! How was she able to do that? She had not been up to his bedroom. He had not seen her with a wand…
A niggling thought finally broke through to the surface; what if she was an imposter? Sure, his window had been nailed shut, but a detail so minor had never stopped Dumbledore from getting a letter to him before. His letter did not specify if his “associate” was a man, or a woman. This woman could have intercepted Dumbledore’s letter and used it to her own advantage. Why else would she have to wait till she was in the house to deliver it?
Harry’s mind worked furiously. He grabbed a scrap of parchment and scribbled a quick note to the Weasleys. He would play along, and if he found himself in the clutches of one of Voldemort’s followers he would just have to make sure he could let Hedwig loose with the letter.
Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Miss Levy turned at the sound of Harry’s trunk ka-thunk ka-thunk ka-thunking down the steps. The trunk was actually pretty light, thanks to the spell on all the contents, but Harry could not help taking out his anger on the Dursleys in a childish, but satisfying, way. For all they knew, they were sending him to some sadistic “tough love” type program for criminals! And by the looks on their faces, they were glad.
Miss Levy gave a little gasp at the sight of Hedwig in her cage. “Uhm…a pet owl? That’s a bit unusual! I’m afraid the pet will have to stay here.”
“NO!” shouted Harry, Vernon and Petunia in unison.
Miss Levy huffed out an impatient sigh and said, “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.” She pulled a cell phone out of her briefcase, flipped it open and began dialing as she strode out the front door to the stoop. “Reception.” She stated over her shoulder as the door closed. Three people stood frozen as they listened to her muffled conversation. She swung the door open and entered. “They will agree to board the bird on the condition that we can use it in our animal therapy program for the more mentally disturbed boys.” It seemed to Harry that her eyes sparkled just a bit with amusement as she looked at him.
“Done!” snapped Petunia, eager to get her nephew, his owl and his trunk out of her home.
“What?!” Harry cried, playing his part, “they can’t subject Hedwig to insane boys!”
“BOY!” growled Vernon in warning. Harry shut his mouth. He wanted to get himself, his owl and his trunk out of this home just as badly.
“Well then,” Miss Levy said brightly, “you have all the contact numbers with the paperwork. We will make sure the boy gets to his train. He is packed and it looks like everything is in order. We’ll just be on our way then.”
She paused to let the family say their good-byes. No one said a word. Suddenly, Dudley came stomping down the stairs and sneered, “Hope you have a grueling summer, freak!”
Miss Levy appeared a bit taken aback, but recovered her composure and announced firmly, “He will have a character building summer. I assure you, Mr. Dursley, you will be quite satisfied with our program.”
“I will be quite satisfied if you would just get this miscreant out of my house.”
“Yes, uh, well then, uh, come along Mr. Potter!” She turned and walked purposely out the door with Harry in tow.
As Harry stowed the trunk in the boot of a rather old and worn car, the Dursleys lined up happily on the front stoop. Harry got himself and Hedwig in the back seat, and he turned to glare at his family as Miss Levy drove off. Petunia hugged Vernon while Dudley pumped his arm up and down several times in the air. Harry slumped down in the seat, disgruntled and dejected.
“Well, they really are a sodding lot, aren’t they?” Miss Levy stated, her voice tight with anger. Harry grunted. “Give me a minute or two to get us out of the neighborhood and we’ll get this sorted out, right?” she asked as she glanced at Harry in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah,” he quietly replied.
She swung into the car park of a shopping center and circled around the back, stopping the car when it was out of sight of the public. “Finite incantatum.” She turned to Harry as the Glamourie Spell wore off to reveal a woman with short dark red hair and large green eyes. The color of her hair and eyes reminded him of his mother so forcibly that he felt a sharp stab to his heart.
“My name is Arinna Dunlevy, and we have just successfully completed the kidnapping portion of this adventure!”
Her words did nothing to boost his confidence that she was not an imposter. He attempted to hide his disquieting thoughts and stated, lamely, “I’m Harry Potter.”
Her eyes twinkled slightly again. “I am relieved to hear that! If I had accidentally nabbed Dudley Dursley instead, I’d never hear the end of it!” She peered at him closely. He was quiet, and nervous, in her assessment. She was unsure why. She pointed to a bag of clothes in the foot well of the back seat. “Could you hand me those? And you are welcome to get in the front seat.”
Harry grabbed the bag, and moved to the front. As he handed her the bag, he saw a wand for the first time. She murmured an incantation and suddenly she was dressed in the clothes from the bag: jeans and a short sleeved top. The business suit was now in the bag. “Whew! I hate stuffy clothes. Now I am back in my element.”
Harry was silent. He was nervously waiting for the other shoe to drop. It just couldn’t be this easy to escape the clutches of the Dursleys. Something had to be amiss…
“Right.” Arinna took a deep breath. “Well. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, so would you like to start, or should I launch into the entire story from the beginning?”
Summoning his courage, Harry turned and looked right into her eyes. “Who exactly are you working for?” he asked coldly.
Arinna was taken aback. She should have realized the kid would be paranoid. He had every right to be. But how had she aroused his suspicions? Well, using words like “kidnapping” and “nabbed” probably didn’t help, suggested her mind. She took another deep breath. Go slowly, she told herself, don’t freak him out. Too late! countered another part of her mind.
“I am here as a favor to your headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. A small group of people whom he trusts came up with this little plan to get you out, and it was felt that I was the best person to execute said plan.”
“Why didn’t Professor Dumbledore’s little warning get to me in time? Did you have anything to do with that?”
Ah, so that’s where I slipped. Stupid mistake, Rinna! They had warned you he was sharp-witted. She leveled her gaze at him. “Yes. I’m afraid I did.”
Harry made to get out of the car, but she grabbed his arm with lightning reflexes. “Wait up, and let me explain…”
“Not unless you can convince me you are not working for Voldemort!”
She did not flinch at the sound of the name. Harry’s heart stopped for a moment.
You’re bungling it! She screamed at herself. She let go of his arm and leaned back into her seat. She tried to appear non-threatening. “Harry,” she sighed.
Something in the sound of her voice made him stop his fumbling at the door latch. Was it sadness? Pain? He shook his head to clear his thoughts as she started to speak.
“I am not working for that effing bastard Voldemort!” she said fiercely. “I made the mistake of offering to deliver Dumbledore’s letter myself when it became clear that the owls weren’t reaching you. I didn’t count on that shit of an aunt of yours and her pig husband not ever letting you out of the house! I finally decided to just deliver it when I got there. I’m sorry, Harry, but I seriously underestimated how you would react. It makes perfect sense that you’d be suspicious of me, what with all you’ve dealt with where Voldemort is concerned, and with your recent experience of being hunted by Sirius Black…” Her voice hitched ever so slightly. She paused to breathe.
He wanted to protest, No, Sirius wasn’t hunting ME! But the niggling thought interrupted again; she said Voldemort’s name without nary a stutter, TWICE! He grabbed for the door latch again.
“Wait! Wait!” she said desperately. “I can prove to you that I am a friend, not a foe!”
Again he stopped at the tone in her voice. Part of his brain was berating him run while you can, idiot! but he turned and looked at her. Her green eyes were wild with concern. “How?” he asked.
She reached for the glove box and pulled out a photograph. She silently handed it to Harry. He looked down at it and saw two teenaged girls, both with long red hair and green eyes. At first you would think them sisters because of the similarity in the hair and eye color, but on second glance it became obvious that these two had completely different features. The one with almond shaped eyes and a smattering of freckles was his mother. The one with big eyes and porcelain skin and delicate features was clearly a younger version of the woman sitting next to him. He watched as the two girls laughed, hugged each other and then mugged for the camera. The picture spoke of deep friendship and love, frivolity and hope, a bond of sisterhood.
Arinna spoke in a near whisper, “Your mum was my dearest friend.”
A/N: Did I pique your interest? Want to read more? I would LOVE to hear what you think!
On to Chapter Two