Suppression

First Ride

Today was the day. Today, Harry Potter was going to finally become an official motorcycle rider. Weeks of reparations and reading of all sorts of manuals provided by Hermione had all been leading to this. And what better way to take it out for a spin than to go to Hermione's house? It was the weekend that Dumbledore and her agreed on for him to visit and it worked out perfectly.

There was still the nagging thought that something big was coming given the absence of his nightmares for the past week. A week of dreamless sleep was a blessing he hadn't questioned but now, with a trip to Hermione's house in order, he couldn't shake the thought that payment was due for the blessing. He prayed that it wasn't the case.

"I'll be back Monday morning," said Harry to his aunt and uncle.

The two grunts from his annoyed relatives let him know that he was granted permission, not that he needed nor wanted it in the first place. In truth, it was a bit of a surprise when both Dumbledore and Hermione seemed okay with him staying the weekend at Hermione's place but he accepted it all too quickly. Really, what was the point of questioning it?

"Taking that rust bucket out for a spin?" Harry heard Dudley call from behind him. He turned to the boy who was munching on a chicken wing and looking at him with a hint of concern.

"Not a rust bucket anymore, Dudders," he shot back with a grin. The beauty of magic to be able to repair the bike back to near perfect condition, he thought.

"Well just be careful, and don't do anything stupid," Dudley called as Harry stepped outside into the warm summer day.

"Can't do much of that, you're keeping all of the stupid with you," Harry joked before dodging when Dudley threw his chicken bone at him. He merrily laughed his way to the street before reaching into his pocket and doing a cursory glance around the street before enlarging his now fully refurbished bike.

Harry reverently caressed the bike as a proud grin crossed his face. "You're so pretty," he said to the inanimate object, not caring if he looked weird for doing so. For a boy who was given nothing all of his life, this was perfect. It was even better because he worked on it himself, built it from the ground up, and truly earned the right to ride it.

Minutes later, Harry carefully swung his leg over the bike and sat down. He got comfortable on it before revving it to life, feeling as the engine rumbled beneath him. He experimentally gave it a few more revs before taking a deep breath and remembering all of what he had read in the manuals Hermione was able to procure for him. "Just like flying a broom, Potter," he assured himself.
                                             ———
Hermione was the happiest witch in the world when she went to bed and was still just as happy when she woke up. She was certain, from the way her cheeks cramped up, she had slept with a smile on her face. Try as she might, she was never able to wipe the almost perpetual smile off her face. Harry was finally going to visit her today. When his aunt and uncle returned after her last week, she was unable to visit him again. But now, she would finally get to see him again. A week apart was far too much time.

The ecstatic girl went about her morning routine with her smile still etched on her face and dressed for the day in a sundress, the same one she wore for her last visit. Judging from Harry's constant peeks and wistful glances, he had liked the dress very much. It was only right for her to wear it for him again. It also helped that she felt like the prettiest witch in the world when he looked at her like that.

Hermione hummed as she took her breakfast, noticing but not caring about the dual smirks her parents wore. Nothing was going to ruin this day for her. She felt hyper, as if she had consumed a mountain of sugar. Her cheeks were almost fully cramped but the girl couldn't stop smiling.

"Someone's a little excited for today," her father noted from behind his newspaper, hiding the smirk on his face.

"Oh come off it Dan, when's the last time you saw our little girl this happy?" Hermione's mother asked with her own sly grin.

Hermione harrumphed at her parents' antics but never let her smile leave her face. As she joined them at the table, the girl scarcely took a bite of her breakfast as she imagined all of what her and Harry would do when he got here. She would take him to the park, the library, the pool, and the mall, her brain listed off in quick succession. There was so much to do in two days but everything was perfect. Harry was coming.

Hermione's parents watched the girl sigh dreamily as she barely touched her toast and shot a knowing look to each other. Their daughter was the brightest witch in all of her classes since she first started at school but they rarely, if ever, heard of her having friends. That all changed during her first month at Hogwarts.

Admittedly, her parents were worried about the prospect of a boarding school for 'special' children but they couldn't say no to their little girl. She was beyond excited to be attending the school and, while it hurt them both, they had to let her go. Still, it was not as bad because Hermione diligently wrote them each week. Then, a month into her studies, she wrote them about a new friend. A certain boy with messy hair and brilliantly green eyes, Hermione's words, had taken over all her letters from that moment. The parents could not recall a time when Harry Potter wasn't a central figure in their daughter's letters. Of course, she mentioned another boy as well, a redhead named Ron, but he was not nearly as present in her writings.

Now, as the parents watched their teenage daughter act every bit the lovesick girl that was present in nearly all of those cheesy romantic novels, they knew Harry Potter had stolen her heart. She vehemently tried to deny it but they knew better, better than she knew herself. They figured she must have logically tried to put Harry into a small box that restricted him into only being her best friend but failed miserably at it. If there was one thing they could criticize about their wonderful little girl, it was that she tended to listen to her brain instead of her heart.

It was obvious who Harry Potter was to Hermione, but they weren't parents for nothing. When this boy came, they would make sure to ask him all sorts of questions to see if he was truly worthy of their daughter. Hermione's defense of his character was somewhat credible but they needed to see for themselves. They needed to know just who Harry Potter was.

"I'll be in my room," Hermione interrupted their thoughts with a dreamy voice.

They watched as she excitedly bounded to her room, smiling all the way through, and laughed to themselves. They remembered the time when they were just as lovesick as her.