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novadust86 · 4 years

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The Best Laid plans - ch3

Chapter 3: Summer from Hell

Harry lay on his bed atop the threadbear blanket, his head resting on a pillow that had lost all of its bounce as he stared up at the ceiling. He was not having a good day. Hell, he wasn’t having a good summer at all. After his uncle had collected him off the train the ‘summer of hell’ had started almost straight away, with Vernon informing Harry that his sister, the woman Harry had been forced to call aunt Marge, was at the house. Apparently, after something had gone wrong with her plumbing it had revealed that some emergency work was needed on her house, so while the work was being done aunt Marge had invited herself to stay.

This had not left aunt Petunia happy. His aunt had entered Harry's rose bushes in some local garden competition (he refused to call them aunt Petunia's rose's in his head as he was the one who did all the work before he started Hogwarts). Marge had brought her prized bulldog 'Ripper’ with her and Ripper seemed to be deeply offended by the flowers and was doing his best to defile them. Uncle Vernon had then taken great delight in telling Harry of the rules for the summer, as well as how he had told Marge that his “no good, pathetic excuse for a nephew” was so bad he had been sent to 'St Brutus’ school for incurably criminal boys’, and, specifically, that if Harry so much as hinted at anything else his uncle would make him regret it.

---ϟϟϟ---

Uncle Vernon pulled the car onto the driveway. The two got out of the car without talking only to find Harry’s ‘Aunt’ Marge standing on the doorstep. She was very like Uncle Vernon; large, beefy and purple-faced, she even had a mustache, though not as bushy as his.’*

She started in on Harry before he even got to the front door, “so your back are you?” Not even waiting for a reply, she continued on, this time to her brother, “why even let the boy out Vernon? Surely that 'school’ is the best place for him?” Her less than subtle emphasis on the word school left no doubt that she was referring to the ridiculous fabrication of his uncle. “Teacher's need time off”, Vernon replied gruffly as he opened the boot for Harry to retrieve his trunk.

“What's in the trunk boy?” Aunt Marge demand, obviously looking for something to criticize, “Oh...Um...just my school things. School uniform, homework, paper, pens...that sort of thing.” Harry replied, automatically concentrating more on getting the heavy trunk out of the car then having a less than pleasant conversation with his aunt. Marge mulled that over for a few moments, looking for something else to scold, but evidently coming home from a boarding school with luggage and homework was expected. So, Aunt Marge fell back on her favorite insult, which was also a favourite of the two Dursley adults. Namely, calling him lazy and questioning his work ethic. “Well, you best take your trunk up to your room! No excuses for not getting your homework done! At least while you are doing that you aren’t off trying to break into cars or whatever it is you do!”

Harry froze and looked at his uncle. He knew Vernon didn't want him to have his school things, he didn't want Harry to do his homework. But, most of all, he didn't want Harry to have access to his wand. Not that Harry's wand was in his trunk. After everything that had happened the last two years, he had owl ordered a wand holster, and as such his wand was stuck to his arm and hidden with a perception filter charm. “Don't go looking to your uncle for help, boy! Get that trunk upstairs now!” His uncle, now standing behind Marge, nodded and mouthed 'for now’. Harry guessed that he couldn't think of an excuse on the spot to lock Harry's trunk away and had decided to pretend it was perfectly normal until he could think up something that wouldn't leave his sister suspicious.

---ϟϟϟ---

After that, there had been the start of the whole thing with Hedwig. While Marge had accepted Vernon's excuse that at Brutus’ they required pets to teach the boys responsibility, she still complained that her bulldog Ripper didn't like birds and that he was ‘sensitive’. Sensitive was apparently code for 'evil little shit', at least that was Harry’s opinion. He’d taken Hedwig straight to his room and set up a perch for her by removing the bars from her cage. It was crude but serviceable. He had just gone downstairs to ask Vernon if there were any old newspapers he could line her cage with ,(there were always some as his uncle was an avid reader of the Daily Express. Harry however, always remembered what he heard a comedian say about it once "well at least they are true to their advertising, the paper is daily and clearly written in a hurry), when there was a huge racket from his bedroom.

Ripper had snuck into Harry's room when Harry left the door open and was trying to jump up on top of the wardrobe where Hedwig had retreated to avoid the snapping jaws of her attacker. Harry grabbed the dog to pull it out of the room and away from his owl. He had been able to pull the dog out but had received a bite on his right arm for his trouble. The door now closed and Hedwig safe, Harry now turned his attention solely to keeping Ripper's teeth from ripping into him again. This was not as quiet he’d hoped, as evidenced by the three sets of feet thundering up the stairs.

Harry felt sick just thinking about their reactions. First up the stars had been his uncle, who just stood there watching. Marge came next and the bitch fucking laughed and encouraged the dog. It wasn't until aunt Petunia had seen the blood that she said anything. But, not surprisingly, it wasn't to protect Harry, no, she was more concerned about Harry getting blood on the carpet.

God, He hated it here.

Aunt Petunia threw a toilet roll and a Crepe Bandage at him and told him to make sure not to get blood everywhere. Harry retreated to his room and sat on the bed. He made two pads out of the toilet paper, one for each side of his arm, and held them in place with the bandage. His arm seen to, it was time to strengthen out the room. He reset Hedwig's cage, then set about the task of coaxing her down off the wardrobe. Seeing his friend so shaken, Harry held her close, "It’s Ok Hedwig, it's Ok. I promise I won't let him hurt you. Only a few more weeks before we can get out of this shithole."

---ϟϟϟ---

The next few weeks had been filled with cooking, cleaning, dodging his cousin (who’d arrived back from smeltings the next day), and trying to do something to help the roses survive Ripper. This was easier than it might have been, as the dog had stopped caring about the roses. Instead, the bulldog was constantly camped outside Harry door trying to get in at Hedwig. Harry had been bitten three times more by the dog so far and he seriously doubted it would be his last this summer.

If that wasn't enough, he was seriously missing Hermione. To be fair, he was missing any friendly contact. His friendship with Ron was strained and almost everyone else cared little for Harry, only for the-boy-who-lived, some mythical hero they’d built up to some impossible standard that no one could ever live up to, let alone a small, underwhelming and bespectacled boy. All this and the fact that Hermione filled both the role of best friend and girlfriend meant that Harry was feeling rather alone.

It hadn't helped that since becoming a couple the two of them had been practically inseparable, never spending more than ten hours away from each other, even if most of that time they were asleep. It wasn't entirely their fault; they eat their food in the same hall, went to the same classes, studied in the same library and relaxed and slept in the same tower. Even when they weren't working together or chatting they tended to be in the same space. The only real time they spent truly apart was when Harry was practicing quidditch (Hermione only went to games, not practices) or when Harry was forced to go to classes while Hermione had been stuck in the hospital wing, once from the polyjuice and once from that bloody great big snake.

Even when Hermione had been petrified he had made his way to the hospital wing each day, telling Hermione about the classes he had had that day, then reading more of her books to her on the off chance she could hear him. Staying till Madame Pomfrey kicked him out for the day. He still wasn’t sure if Madam Pomfrey let him stay for Hermione's benefit or his own. He definitely felt, well...not better, but less helpless as he sat there reading the ‘The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy’ series to her. Just thinking of Hermione in that state lead his mind to another dark place. He couldn’t believe that Hermione had had the answer in her hand and that he had spent days sitting next to it the whole time. That damned snake, he wanted to bring it back to life just so he could kill it again for what it had done. The thought of that it sent phantom pains through the crux of his right elbow, a remembered pain of the venom burning its way into his flesh.

God, he hated summer.

---ϟϟϟ---

July 31st

Harry awoke on his birthday like it was any other day at Privet Drive, with his aunt banging on the door and telling him to go cook breakfast. Harry wasn't surprised if he was lucky no one would say anything about him now being officially a teenager. Then he could pretend they had just forgotten, instead of deliberately doing it to hurt him.

He finished getting dressed; pulling on a lumpy old pair of Dudley's socks that he had grown out of about two years ago, a ratty old pair of trainers that he had grown out of at about the same time. Then he was off to cook enough bacon and fried eggs to feed a small platoon, or just three Dursleys. Aunt Petunia would have just tea and toast with whatever spread she chose that morning, if she stuck to her pattern.

Harry grabbed a package of 24 slices of British back bacon from the fridge, laying out the whole pack on the grilling rack and starting them to cook. He set the largest cast iron skillet on the hob, adding what he considered an obsessive amount of lard to the pan and set it on low heat. He put four slices of bread in the toaster, two cans of beans in a tub in the microwave and filled the kettle to boil the water for tea and coffee. Aunt Petunia as always was the first to come down, and her tea was already in the teapot and her toast cooking when she sat at the table.

“Marmite.” No please, no thanks, just the one word. Not that Harry expected anything else as he grabbed the tar-like paste from the fridge, setting it next to the plate that was waiting for his aunt's toast. Soon everyone was down and the Dursleys were eating. Breakfast done, Harry made his way upstairs, finally able to take care of needing the bathroom and brushing his teeth. As he cleaned his teeth he smiled to himself, thinking of the lecture Hermione had given him on dental hygiene.

It was rather an interesting topic that showed the difference between Muggle and Magical cultures. Muggles couldn't really fix teeth, they could only add a hard substance to fake a tooth being there, such as fillings and false teeth. So muggles focused on prevention, pastes and brushes to stop there being a problem in the future. Magical folk, however, they just used charms to keep their mouths smelling and tasting fine. This did nothing to remove the problem though, but if a witch or wizard had a bad tooth that was easy enough to fix; just vanish the tooth and down a shot of Skele-Gro. 6 hours later and they have a new, perfectly healthy tooth.

Harry made his way back to the kitchen to clean up after breakfast and to see if there were any leftovers so that he could eat this morning. To his surprise, there were two pieces of bacon and a slice of toast. Hardly a feast but plenty for him. He cleaned up the plates and mugs and grabbed the plate with the toast and bacon on it to put it on top of the pile of dishes he was taking back to the kitchen.

“One second, Harry” He froze at Aunt Marge's words, hesitated for a second then turned back to her. She smiled at Harry, then took the bacon and folded the toast around it and fed it to the dog in her lap. She had done this on purpose, she had left the food there till he had seen it, just so she could take it away in front of him. Harry wanted to scream, he wanted to shout, he wanted to take the pile of dishes he was carrying and smash them over her fucking head. But, he knew that was exactly what she wanted. Instead, he did the only thing he could to strike out at her. He denied her the confrontation she wanted by smiling at her, somewhat viciously, “anything else Aunt Marge?”

---ϟϟϟ---

Later the same day

Aunt Marge definitely wasn’t happy with how things went at breakfast. She had been pushing all day to get a rise out of Harry, ramping up the pressure each time. Now the Dursleys were sitting down to dinner, again cooked by Harry. Dudley had had the brilliant idea to get at Harry; he’d asked for shepherd’s pie and treacle tart for dinner. This was probably Harry's favorite meal, and despite the fact that both dishes were of the classic British variety; namely heavy, rich, hot and very filling and an absolute godsend when it was cold and wet, they were being consumed in the totally unsuited summer heat. So they sat there eating Harry's favorite meal, while Harry hasn't had a bite of food all-day on this thirteenth birthday.

Then there was the dinner conversation he had to listen to, “You mustn’t blame yourself for the way the boy’s turned out, Vernon”, Marge said between shoveling meat and potatoes into her mouth, “If there’s something rotten on the inside, there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” Harry's hands shook even as his face remained impassive though he longed to burn them with his anger, and magic. She wanted him to fight. He had to keep his cool. Don’t rise to it, “It’s one of the basic rules of breeding,” she continued on, definitely oblivious to Harry’s rising temper, “You see it all the time with dogs. If there’s something wrong with the bitch, there’ll be something wrong with the pup.”

How fucking dare she! She had never even met his mother, the woman who had literally given up everything, including her life, for Harry. Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine, only to have the glass explode in her hand, the shards of glass cutting into her flesh. Harry watched as blood began to ooze from numerous small cut on the inside of her hand. Luckily, Marge just laughed it off, “Sorry about your glass Petunia. I have a strong grip. Let me just go sort my hand out. BOY! Clean up the glass, if even one shard ends up in my poor Rippy’s paw there will be hell to pay.

Her threat finished, she left for the upstairs bathroom, her hellhound in step behind her. As soon as she was out of sight, Vernon turned on Harry. “You dare use your abnormality to attack my sister!?” He was out of his chair and was pulling off his belt. “I di-didn't”, Harry stuttered, “T-that wasn't me.” The belt was in Vernon’s hands now, “BULLSHIT! I know your freakishness when I see it”, Harry had backed into a corner of the room trying to put as much distance between him and his raging uncle as the room allowed. Searing pain flashed over Harry's back and shoulder as the strip of black leather found its mark. Again and again, the blows fell onto Harry's left side, feeling like it was on fire as uncounted blood vessels where broken under the improvised whip.

Harry cowered in the corner, trying to react as little as possible to the beating, though some tears and pained moans still escaped from him. He had learned over the years that they were longer if he screamed. Then everything changed.

There was a loud screech of pain and everyone stopped. It wasn't Harry's scream. It wasn't even on this floor of the house and, it wasn't human. “HEDWIG!” The blood drained from Harry's face. Now he could see what had happened; Marge had broken the glass on purpose. She had done it so that Harry would be busy cleaning while she went upstairs and let Ripper into his room where Hedwig was sleeping.

Harry got up and tried to rush to the stairs, only to be grabbed by his uncle. His uncle opened his mouth to start yet another of his verbal tirades, though unfortunately for Vernon Harry was now too focused on his owl that he was no longer concerned with holding his power in check. As a result of delaying the desperate boy, Vernon was relocated to the far side of the room, where he suddenly found himself being reintroduced to his wall with a sickening pop and crack from his shoulder and arm.

Harry was up the stairs in a flash. He tried to push open his door, Hedwig's continued screechs calling him to help, but the door wouldn't open. He tried again but the door wouldn't budge. Then he saw it; Aunt Marge had locked one of the seven locks that were on the door, a relic of the last summer Harry had spent in this hellhole. She had also added a padlock. Harry's mind raged and his power responded, rushing out to unblock his path, exploding the door and some of the surrounding masonry that was keeping him from Hedwig.

If Harry had been paying attention, he would have seen Marge standing in the bathroom, the door wide open, watching. The sadistic women wearing the biggest shit-eating grin she had ever worn. As Harry pulled on the door to try and get in finding it locked she mouthed the words “got you”. Her triumph, however, was soon replaced by terror as at a gesture from Harry, the door exploded into shrapnel. Shrapnel that resembled matchsticks more than anything else and was suddenly filling the landing.

The sight that greeted Harry as the door disintegrated chilled him to the bone. Hedwig's pale white feathers were scattered around the room, her blood staining them, the ruby crimson standing out all the more due to the contrast. And there, in the middle of the room, a screeching Hedwig, her wing trapped in the jaws of her attacker.

Harry couldn't have held back if he tried, Hedwig wasn't just his pet and post owl. She was a magical creature and his familiar. And part of that bond was that his magic couldn't stand by and let her be hurt. While a more experienced wizard may have been able to direct the response more, Harry, with only two years of education under his belt, was just along for the ride. Harry felt the power in him flow, reaching out towards the dog, prying its jaws off the injured wing and freeing his friend. The offending mut was then thrown across the room through the door and into the opposite wall with a meaty thunk, where it slumped to the floor, never again to rise.

Seeing her prized bulldog stud die so suddenly cut through Marge's shock, fear and the rational parts of her brain. Marge charged at Harry, intending to hurt him for what he had done to her dog. But Harry still hadn't regained control of his magic yet. In fact, he was so worried about Hedwig he hadn't even tried. Hell, he was so worried about her, he didn't even know that he was being attacked. He would later find out that he had stuck his aunt to the ceiling with some accidental magic variation of a permanent sticking charm.

Harry now cradled his friend in his arms, tears freely flowing at the state of her wing. He stood, keeping Hedwig in his arms and just started walking, down the stairs, out the door, down the street. He had only a vague plan. Find a vet, get Hedwig to Diagon alley, there had to be someone there who could help. The problem was, without Hedwig he couldn't call for help from anyone. He had little Muggle money and he was down to his last 5 gallons till he got to Gringotts. He would use the Muggle money to get as close to London as possible. Then he would try and get the rest of the way as fast as he could, even if he had to walk.

He really needed Hermione right now. Hermione would know what to do. There would be a public floo access she had read about or a post owl office that he could use to call for help. Hermione would also probably know a better place to take Hedwig than a magical pet shop. Right now he just needed help.

It was then that Harry's magic decided to pull one more trick out of its hat tonight. He felt the flow of his power as it surrounded him, then started crushing him into a ball. Not painfully, but definitely not comfortable. Later, when Harry heard about Apparition training and the three D's, he would always add his own fourth; destination, determination, deliberation and lastly, desperation. He would also realize that he was incredibly lucky that all he left behind was his shirt, and not some part of himself.

That was how Harry appeared in the Grangers’ dining Room, covered in belt marks, bruising and dog bites. Nothing to hide it from the three sitting down to dinner, but an owl with a mangled wing and her blood that was covering him. Seeing the one person who he thought could help Harry relaxed, “Hermione.”

“Harry?!” With that one word from Hermione's lips, all the will and adrenaline that was keeping Harry going, allowing him to push forward despite the lack of food and heavy use of magic gave way and Harry's last act of will was to turn as he fell, ensuring that Hedwig would land atop him, not the other way around, as he slipped into unconsciousness.

---ϟϟϟ---

Author’s Notes

From now on, all flashbacks will be in italics, so that you’ll be able to see that it’s not at the same time as the story.

ok, I admit I hated myself a little when I had Harry made that promise to Hedwig knowing what was going to happen. I originally intended for ripper and marge to put up a stronger fight at the end of the chapter but this felt more right as I wrote it.

a few small parts are lifted directly from the prisoner of Azkaban

P.S props to anyone who can name the comedian who made the Daily Express joke I used.

chapters 1-45 are avalable on https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13294547/1/The-Best-Laid-Plans and https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862810/chapters/44770174

#harry potter #harry x hermione #harry potter fanfiction #harmony

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novadust86 · 4 years

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Show some respect, people.

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novadust86 · 4 years

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The Best Laid Plans CH2

Chapter 2: Confessions of a teenage cat girl

Hermione was just finishing unpacking her trunk, and was working through what she needed to do: shelving her books; sorting her clothes, putting the clean ones away and putting the dirty ones, that the magic of Hogwarts haven't cleaned yet, in the hamper; and setting her photos of her parents and other nick nacks in their proper places.

The drive home had been filled with Hermione asking her parents how their year had been. Now that they were home she was expecting to be called downstairs for what she jokingly thought of as her interrogation. It had become a sort of tradition; on her first evening home from Hogwarts, Her parents would pick up a take-away* that broke all their rules about healthy eating and sugary drinks. Then, over the distractingly enticing dinner they would talk about what had happened while she was away at school.

It wasn't long before she heard her mum call for her. Hermione made her way to the dining room to find her parents at the table, ready with pizza and fried chicken, all steaming hot waiting for her. Hermione sat and served herself, savouring the unhealthy food that was a rare treat at home. In fact, now that she thought about it, it had been almost a year since she had last eaten pizza. It wasn't in the Hogwarts meal rotation that tended to favor classic British food, and she hadn't left Hogwarts at all this year.

“So, Kitten”, her father then winced at his phrasing. He had used the old nickname on reflex and immediately regretted it, worried how his daughter would take it. Hermione, however, was laughing at his reaction to his own perceived faux pas*. After getting herself under control she grinned back at him, “it’s ok dad, you can still call me kitten. You have been doing it for as long as I can remember…I’d miss it if you stopped.”

“Ok, then...kitten”, he seemed decidedly uncomfortable with using the nickname now, “in the letters we received from you and McGonagall, who says she’s your Head of House, we were expecting to see cat ears and a tail, but I don't, so did they find a cure...or did your teachers hide them for you?”

Hermione finished chewing her bite of pizza; the toppings were a favorite she shared with her mum, which were ham, mushrooms, pineapple and prawns. “They are hidden, but it was Harry who found a way to hide them. Not one of the teachers. He gave me this hair band today, the spells on it give me somewhere to put the ears. There is also a similar item for my tail.” She hesitated a second, then, checking that the curtains were closed and seeing that it was safe as they were alone, Hermione removed the hair band, revealing the brown and blond tabby cat ears for her parents to see.

Hermione sat there, waiting to hear what her parents would say. They sat in silence for what was probably only about thirty seconds, but they were the longest seconds of her life. Waiting for them to pass judgment on her. Would they think her a freak? Would they disown the monster she had become? Would they insist that she stop coming home from school at Christmas and Easter? Just do their job until they could kick her out once she finished school?

The anxiety-driven thoughts were driven from her head just as quickly when her mum spoke up finally, “Your ears look lovely dear”, with just those five words, Hermione relaxed immensely, feeling a tension she hadn't known she carried slip away, “Is your tail the same colour?”

Hermione's head bounced up and down, “Yes, I would show you, but taking the bag off my tail is difficult in this skirt”, it would also have been embarrassing, the high waist meant that the only way her tail could go was down. This was fine most of the time, but if she got happy or angry her tail tended to shoot up, and that was the last thing she wanted while in a skirt.

“Did you say bag, Honey?” Her mother seemed a bit confused. Hermione slipped into her lecture mode as she explained to her parents about the three bags and how two of them were concealed in the hair band and how each of the bags had an undetectable expansion charm on them, that created extradimensional space inside the bags. Her parents caught on quickly and soon the whole family were having fun making Doctor who references.

“So, Hermione, you mentioned a few other changes in your letters. I think me and your mum need to hear them all”, the joking was over and they were back to the main topic. “Well...you know about the ears and tail. The ears give me better hearing. It's not magic, it's just that the ears are so big compared to normal ears. My taste in food changed a little, I like fish, chicken, milk and cheese more now”, her parents nodded along; the cheese part was new to them but Hermione had already mentioned in her letters about how her taste in food had changed. Mr Granger had already added a few tins* of different types of fish to the shopping when he picked up the groceries a few days ago. “I also understand cats better. I just seem to know what they are trying to tell me”, Hermione hesitated for a second, thinking about something else, before saying, “that's it.”

Her parents looked at each other, silently debating whether to push. One of the letters they had gotten from Hermione's Head of House had mentioned their daughter was now taking a potion once a month to manage some other aspect of her transformation. Her mother, who had a suspicion about it just what was about, suggested waiting when her husband spoke up, “Hermione we know there's more. Your Professor mentioned a potion you now need to take. Now tell us everything”, he usually wasn’t this harsh, but he was concerned for his daughter and to help her, he needed to know what was the problem.

Hermione sat in her seat fidgeting nervously. It wasn't that she was keeping it from her parents, just that she didn't want to talk about such things with her dad. It had been bad enough when Harry had asked about the potion, but she could tell Harry to drop it and he would listen. She knew that he was still worried about her, but he had relaxed a lot when she promised him it was nothing dangerous.

And it really wasn't, but how do you tell your new twelve-year-old boyfriend that the potion you are taking is to stop you from losing control and jumping him every month?

She definitely wasn’t ready to have that conversation with Harry and she didn’t think Harry was ready for it either. And Hermione really wasn’t ready to talk to her dad about it, “Um…dad, it’s...“, Hermione was trying to work out a way to phrase things when her mother came to her rescue, “Hermione honey, is this a mother-daughter discussion?” Hermione blushed, nodded and suddenly found a bit of lint in her lap very interesting, so interesting that she missed that her father was just as suddenly interested in one of the pictures on the wall. Her mother smiled at two of them; they were so alike at times.

The discussion moved on swiftly; the talk about the potion postponed until later, when the two Granger women could talk alone. They asked about Hermione's classes and how she thought she had done on her end of year tests. The two of them had found it odd that the Headmaster had canceled the end of year tests; they knew that some of them were rather important, the magical equivalent of O and A levels, so surely they couldn't just be canceled? Hermione thought that the people sitting their O.W.Ls and their N.E.W.Ts would have to do them over the summer., but agreed it sounded like a lot of hassle.

The dinner continued for a while longer; the three of them just enjoying being back together as a family, if only for the summer holidays.

---ϟϟϟ---

Hermione had just finished getting ready for bed and was about to go brush her teeth (she may have skipped the odd day here and there while she was at Hogwarts but she knew that she wouldn't get away with that at home) when her mum came in to her room, surprisingly carrying two large bowls of what looked to be chocolate caramel-swirl ice-cream. “Got time for a girly chat?” Hermione eyed the bowls of her own personal ice-cream nirvana suspiciously, her mother didn’t usually indulge in such unhealthy treats, “I think I could maybe find some time”.

The two of them sat cross-legged on Hermione's bed, each holding a bowl but the older of the two still holding on to the spoons, “So...fun questions first. It's boyfriend Harry now, not best friend Harry. what's the story there?” Her mum asked, grinning as she handed over Hermione's spoon. A smile came over Hermione's face as she remembered that happy moment, “it was in the hospital wing after Christmas. Ron and I had had a falling out over his legendary lack of tact. So at that point, it was only Harry coming to see me regularly. Lav and Pav popped in occasionally but Harry was there every day right up until curfew. Classes had started back up and Harry was helping me keep on top of everything, since I was unable to make it to classes.”

Hermione stopped talking for a bit to sample the ice-cream and gave a slight moan of pleasure. “Then Madam Pomfrey asked me to make a decision on something. She asked if I wanted to keep the cat eyes or change them back to normal. I chose to change them back; dad always said my eyes are like grandad's so I wanted to keep them. Anyway, to change them back I needed to take a potion every morning for six days. That was fine as I was already taking a lot of potions, so what was one more? Only...this one had a noticeable side effect.

While my eyes were changing my vision was blurry. I could see well enough to know if someone was there, or to walk to the bathroom and back, but I couldn't read, which you know would’ve been a problem for me. I was a little upset about that particular thing, and then Harry turns up about an hour later. It was a Saturday. And, he was with some of my favorite books. I told him that I couldn't read them because my eyes where being fixed, and that he may as well take them away. He looked at me for a few seconds and I couldn't see the look on his face, but I just know he had that smirk of his on his face, then he just sat down in the chair next to me and pulled out my copy of 'The Hobbit’ and started reading it out loud to me.”

Hermione paused to take another mouthful of ice-cream and her mother jumped in, “So let me get this straight; you were stuck without your books for a week and Harry just started reading them to you”, Hermione nodded slowly, her mouth still full of ice-cream,“Oh god, the poor boy is doomed. Only you would find love through reading, kitten.” Hermione giggled, then continued on after swallowing her bite, “well after about five hours in that chair I realized Harry had to be uncomfortable...so”, she paused for a second wondering how her mother would take it, “I-I moved him up onto the bed with me.” Seeing her mother beginning to smirk, she powered on with her tale;

“Before you say anything, the beds are adult-sized so the two of us fit quite comfortably. He came back every day to keep reading the books to me. Unlike some of the others I showed my muggle books, he was completely fine with them. I guess it was cause he grew up a muggle like me. We were two-thirds of the way through 'Return of the King’ before I was able to see normally again, but Harry hates to leave a job unfinished, and he kept reading to me till he finished.

Over the six days, I wasn't used to things being a bit different from my accident. Apparently, the cat hair I used in the potion came from an adult cat, well, Kneazle. Which is a type of magical cat which is why I couldn't be changed back all the way. The Kneazle magic, portion magic and my magic all got mixed up in a knot and won't come undone”, She took a deep breath, “And I am so glad it was a girl cat, that could have lead to problems I don't even want to think about.” Her mother's face went a little green as she thought of the possibilities. At this point, Hermione began blushing profusely, “But anyway...as the cat was an adult, it...well...I guess you could say I'm more ‘interested’ in boys than I normally should be...” Hermione was burning so hot by now that she was surprised she hadn't melted the ice-cream in her lap.

“So Harry was next to me, and after a few days, it just felt natural to snuggle up next to him. And too easy to dismiss it as a cat thing to cuddle up to something warm. One thing just sort of led to the next, and before I left the hospital wing we were a couple-” Her mother abruptly interrupted Hermione and asked cautiously, “and just what exactly did it lead to?” Her tone was conspiratorial, like two girlfriends gossiping. She didn't want Hermione to close her off, but inside she was of course a worrying mum. Just how far had her thirteen-year-old daughter gone with her boyfriend?

“Well, let’s just say Harry is a good kisser. A really good kisser...” Mrs Granger relaxed immensely; while she still felt her daughter was a bit young, it sounded as though they had kept their clothes on at the very least. But there was more, “But, that kiss is what lead to Madam Pomfrey putting me on the potion dad asked about.” That sparked her mother’s interest, she had been intending to ask about that after hearing about Harry, but it seemed that they had reached the topic naturally.

“She felt that it was out of character for me to be kissing Harry quite so quickly and did some checking she hadn't thought about till then.” Hermione was now in a constant state of embarrassment, her blush reaching shades her mother hadn't seen since she had talked to her about being prepared for her monthly ‘visitor’. “It turns out I now go into heat like a cat and because the cat was an adult I have been thrown in at the deep end. The potion tones down the feelings I would have without it and lets me act more normally.”

Emma didn't know what to say; her daughter was embarrassed and obviously dealing with some real issues. She’d gone from being a budding teen girl less than six months from her first monthly visit to having to deal with a full-blown sex drive practically overnight. She set the two half-finished bowls of ice-cream on Hermione's writing desk and crawled over to her daughter, pulling her into a hug. “It's Ok honey, we can cope with this. It's going to be fine. aAnyway, you love Harry anyway, right?” Hermione nodded numbly in her mother’s arms and started crying, the last of the tension she had been holding for weeks finally finding an outlet.

They stayed like that for a while; the two replaying a scene as old as humanity, a Mother comforting her daughter on the cusp of leaving behind her childhood. After that, the two sat there talking for a good hour and a half, the Mother asking questions and doing the groundwork to help her Daughter cope with the new challenges that were waiting for her.

chapters 1-45 are avalable on https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13294547/1/The-Best-Laid-Plans and https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862810/chapters/44770174

#harry potter #harmony #harry x hermione #harry potter fanfiction

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novadust86 · 4 years

Text

The Best Laid Plans - CH1

The sound of the train on the rails was the only thing disturbing the silence of their compartment. The two students inside were lost to the world as they rode aboard the Express as it whisked them back to the Muggle world for the next six weeks*. Harry Potter was doing all he could to focus on his bushy-haired girlfriend who was snuggled up next to him, and to not focus on the anxiety he felt over spending so much time in the ‘care’ of his aunt and uncle.

In all fairness, Hermione was doing an extremely good job of distracting him from his troubles. She had latched onto his side five minutes before and had refused to let go since, the gift he had given her that had sparked the impromptu cuddle time gripped tightly in her hand. The gift in question was a tartan hairband and a small cloth bag. Not much to look at on their own, but then that was the point. They needed to look normal so that no one would pay attention to them.

It had started last Christmas; it had been a rather simple plot to use Polyjuice potion to sneak into the Slytherin common room and find out who was targeting the Muggle-born students, before they killed someone or worse, got Hermione. It just went to show that even simple plans can go very wrong. They were unable to learn who was attacking students, unable to stop the attacks and worst of all, Hermione ended up petrified anyway. Oh, and thanks to a mishap with Hermione's potion his then friend, now girlfriend, was stuck with cat features.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. At first, she had looked a lot more like a cat, but Madam Pomfrey, while being unable to reverse the effect entirely, had managed to restore most of Hermione's original, human features. She now only spotted cat ears and a tail, as well as a patch of fur that ran along her spine from the middle of her back down to her tail. The rest of her was back to normal, on the outside at least.

Harry didn't know all the details, but there had been some subtle, and some not-so-subtle, changes in his Hermione. A lot of it was easy to explain and dismiss, such as Hermione's preferred foods having shifted a bit. She doesn't dislike anything more than before but her fondness for fish, chicken and milk had gone up exponentially. Harry had noticed this, as before taking the potion, Hermione tended towards porridge and pumpkin juice for breakfast, but now she was beginning to alternate between that and kippers on toast* with a goblet of milk.

She also seemed to understand cats better. She couldn't talk to them like Harry could with snakes, but she seemed to be able to know what they wanted whenever they were around her. As such she had become quite popular with the cats in the Gryffindor tower. Hermione was also more of a hugger now. A lot more. Well, not so much more of a hugger than a longer hugger. At least with Harry. But then he was unsure if that one was a result of some cat instinct to snuggle into anything warm, or just a perk of their upgraded relationship. Either way, he wasn’t complaining.

There were also the potions she now had to take regularly that she refused to tell him about, only saying that it was private and wasn't a problem. He had stopped asking after that but couldn't help but worry for her.

His worry had been one of the reasons behind the gifts. While they did nothing about whatever problem was leading to Hermione needing to visit the hospital wing every few weeks, it would help with her life outside of school and let Harry feel like he was doing something. The real gift had been the three small cloth bags, two of which were concealed in a tartan hair band. Each of the bags had an undetectable expansion charm on them. This meant that while wearing the hair band Hermione could easily and, most importantly, comfortably hide her cat ears even in the Muggle world. The third bag was loose and was to conceal her tail. With her gift and a few simple fashion choices, Hermione would hopefully be able to pass as normal in the muggle world, and not be stuck in her house for the whole summer hiding from everyone but her parents.

The compartment door opened, revealing the two youngest redheaded Weasleys. Ron and Ginny had barely been seen without each other since Ron and Harry had retrieved her from the Chamber of Secrets. The youngest Weasley had understandably latched on to her brother for support after everything that had happened to her, and after his fear of losing her that day, Ron was more than happy to be there for her.

If it hadn't been for Ron's reaction to Hermione's current appearance, the couple would have been happy to see them. As it was though the echoes of Ron's bullying of Hermione's feline attributes had had a huge strain on the friendship of the three. Harry and Ron had both stuck by Hermione in the beginning, but after two days Ron and Hermione's regular bickering had started back up. It wouldn’t have been too bad but Ron had taken it too far, as per usual. He’d started making cat-based insults towards Hermione. This had gotten her so upset that Madam Pomfrey had banned Ron from the hospital wing.

That would have been the end of it but when Hermione was released from the hospital wing two weeks later the three were informed by Professor McGonagall that for brewing an illegal potion the three would be spending the next six Saturdays with her in detention. Ron had started complaining loudly to anyone who would listen, claiming that it was Hermione's fault that the three of them had gotten the stack of detentions, and then for Gryffindor losing the Quidditch cup because one of the detentions was the day of the match, leaving Harry unable to play.

That had pretty much been the end of the three's friendship. Hermione was sick of Ron insulting her and Harry couldn’t believe he would single out Hermione as being the only one at fault. They had all agreed to the plan from the start; Ron had even known the potion was illegal. That would've probably ended their friendship for good if Harry and Ron hadn't set everything aside to save Ginny.

After that their friendship was strained but back, and the three doubted that it would ever again be as strong as it was at the start of the year.

It was Ginny show spoke up first, after a moment of awkward silence, “Hey Harry”, then with a stiff but polite nod to Hermione, “Hermione”, before turning back to Harry, “I just wanted to say thank you again before we get to Kings Cross, for everything. And I...wanted to wish you a good summer.”

Harry shifted in his seat, a little uncomfortable with being thanked for what he felt any decent person should have done, “don't worry about it… uh... how are you doing after.. you know...”, even with how nervous he was, he couldn't miss the shadow that fell over her face for a few seconds, leaving the bags under her eyes and the strain on her face even more noticeable.

She wasn't sleeping well, that much Harry knew. He knew because most nights, at least for the last couple of weeks, Ginny had come been coming to the second year boys dorm in the middle of the night and climbing in with her brother. Harry had heard her many times; she’d been crying herself to sleep.

“I'm... doing better… it's just...” Before she could finish her brother pulled her in close and just held her, comforting her without a single word. He must have been doing something right, Harry thought, because Ginny relaxed a little and was able to collect her thoughts, “Hermione, I also wanted to apologize again…” Tears closely threatened the red-haired witch, “I'm so, so sorry, I should never have opened that bloody diary and because I was so stupid, you and Colin and others were hurt and it's all my fault.” By the time Ginny had finished her run on apology she had lost the battle with her tears and was openly sobbing into Hermione's shoulder, who at this point had crossed the compartment and hugged the first year as much as she could.

“It's ok, It's ok. I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault. And I bet the others feel the same as well”, the comforting words seemed to do little good, however, as Ginny sobbed even harder, “They hate me. They all hate me! Even Percy hates me for attacking Penelope, he thinks I attacked her because she is dating him.”

Hermione continued to comfort her, letting the witch cry onto her shoulder as Ron stroked her and back, “Gin, Percy doesn't hate you. If he hated you, he wouldn't keep asking me how you are doing. He is worried about you, we all are.”

---ϟϟϟ---

It took nearly ten minutes for them to help Ginny pick herself up. Ron and Hermione had done most of the heavy lifting as Harry didn't know what to say, but had done ok when he said that he “wished he knew what to say to help her feel better”. Ginny and Ron had left after that to go, calm down and change into their Muggle clothes.

Harry and Hermione had changed as well. This was easy enough for Harry as he just pulled off his outer robes, revealing a baggy pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt that looked like Harry could’ve used it as a tent. Hermione however, had kicked him out of the compartment for twenty minutes while she changed. Apparently, Harry's gift had had the unintended consequence of making Hermione replan her whole outfit.

When Harry returned to the compartment, the full twenty minutes later, Hermione was wearing a Muggle tartan skirt and white polo shirt, as well as the hairband. Harry assumed that she was also wearing the bag over her tail as he couldn't see her tail anywhere. He inwardly grinned at her appearance; his girlfriend would be beautiful to him, no matter what ‘extra’ features she may have.

The two chatted about their plans for the summer, or lack thereof in Harry's case, and all too soon for Harry's liking the Hogwarts Express pulled in to platform 9 ¾. With all the enthusiasm of a condemned man Harry pulled his and Hermione's trunks down, bracing himself for the hell he was going to have to live with for the foreseeable future. Hermione took advantage of her last opportunity to do magic for weeks and cast a charm to lighten the trunks. That the charm was a third-year one didn't seem to matter to her nor did it surprise Harry that she knew it, she always had her nose half-buried inside a book, and he wasn’t surprised she learnt more than him from them.

They each carried their trunks off the train to the line of carts that were waiting for the students who should depart the platform the Muggle way. They put their trunks on a cart with Hedwig on top and set off into King’s Cross, the Muggle world and their families.

---ϟϟϟ---

Authors notes

*Six weeks - in the UK summer holidays from school are only 6 weeks long. I have seen some stories give ridiculous lengths of time for the summer but most seem to use what I think is the American standard of 8 weeks but to be true to the setting it's only 6

*Kippers - kippers are smoked herring (an oily type of fish) and yes in the UK they are a breakfast food

chapters 2-45 are avalable on https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13294547/1/The-Best-Laid-Plans and https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862810/chapters/44770174

Summary:

After Hermione's second year she is now stuck with cat ears and a tail. When she goes home for the summer, Hermione's parents learn all about her boyfriend - Harry Potter. How will this is affect things going forward?

Divergent from canon. Buy one dark lord, get two free! Will our hero prevail? And if he can, will he make it through unscathed?

#harry potter #harmony #harry x hermione #harry potter fanfiction

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