Marauder Storm

Gaping Soul

Harry looked around as they entered with a wrinkled nose at all the snakes and thought of his Godfather.

His Dad was staring around in disgust as the door opened to Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry! How good it is to see you! Looking a bit peaky... the kids are upstairs just to your left they'll explain." The woman hugged Harry and James twitched as Remus motioned for Prongs to follow his Son.

"HARRY! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless — but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got to tell us — the dementors! When we heard — and that Ministry hearing — it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations —" the girl only paused when the redhead cut in.

"Let him breathe, Hermione," said Ron, grinning, closing the door behind Harry.

He seemed to have grown several more inches during their month apart, making him taller and more gangly looking than ever, though the long nose, bright red hair, and freckles were the same.

James who stood in the door way had watched in amusement as Harry grew red and Harry himself never felt such elation and anger at once.

Hermione, still beaming, let go of Harry, but before she could say another word there was a soft whooshing sound and something white soared from the top of a dark wardrobe and landed gently on Harry's shoulder.

"Hedwig!" The snowy owl clicked her beak and nibbled his ear affectionately as Harry stroked her feathers.

"She's been in a right state," said Ron. "Pecked us half to death when she brought your last letters, look at this —"
He showed Harry the index finger of his right hand, which sported a half-healed but clearly deep cut.

"Oh yeah," Harry said. "Sorry about that, but I wanted answers, you know. . . ." Answers for what? James demanded silently.

"We wanted to give them to you, mate," said Ron. "Hermione was going spare, she kept saying you'd do something stupid if you were stuck all on your own without news, but Dumbledore made us —"

"— swear not to tell me," said Harry. "Yeah, Hermione's already said."

The warm glow that had flared inside him at the sight of his two best friends was extinguished as something icy flooded the pit of his stomach.

All of a sudden — after yearning to see them for a solid month — he felt he would rather Ron and Hermione left him alone with his Dad who got him easily, though that may be more because he had no idea what Harry's been through.

There was a strained silence in which Harry stroked Hedwig auto- matically, not looking at either of the others instead turning to his Dad with a strange look on his face.

"He seemed to think it was best," said Hermione rather breath- lessly. "Dumbledore, I mean."

"Right," said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig's beak and found that he was not at all sorry.

"I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —" Ron began.

Again the sign something wasn't quite what he thought rose in James as Harry started up, sounding much more bitter.

"Yeah?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows. "Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?" James looked startled and wondered just how Sirius was doing his job?