NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: Mount Potter Erupts
"The Headmaster was the reason I didn't get any letters?" Harry responded. "To let me grieve? That's….just…ridiculous!" he continued. "Yes, I was grieving but I could definitely have used some understanding and support from my friends! I wasn't going to get any of that from my relatives! All I did get from them is ridicule, belittlement and beatings! And was it really for security purposes? Like you said – I doubt Death Eaters monitor muggle post, so alternative or creative posting might have worked. I wonder if an elf could have brought me letters." He finished. "Just for future use, let's check that theory out now" Harry said. "That's not a bad idea, Harry" Hermione responded as she looked at him sympathetically. "Dobby?" he called.
An elf popped into the room wearing a mishmash of blue pants, pink shirt, and a tea cozy on his head. "Great Master Harry Potter calls Dobby?" he asked. "Hey Dobby, my friend. How are you doing?" Dobby burst out crying, "Dobby is honored Great Master Harry Potter sir is calling lowly Dobby a friend! What cans Dobby bes doing for Great Master Harry Potter sir and his Grangy?" Dobby asked. "Dobby. I was wondering if you are still able to pop over to 4 Privet Drive?" Harry asked. Dobby concentrated a second and then answered "I believe so Great Master Harry Potter sir." "Can you pop over now, just to confirm. Don't be seen, mate" Harry added. Dobby bowed and then popped away, and returned a few seconds later. "Dobby bes popping to Great Master Harry Potter sirs house, no problem", he said. "Thanks, Dobby. You've just answered an important question for me.
I appreciate the time you took to help me." Harry responded. Dobby then popped away again, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the library. "Well, that answers that question – a very secure method to deliver mail; quick, quiet, and secure. And what is more aggravating is that if security is an issue, why hasn't the Headmaster warded the house against elves? Or put a guard on the house?" Harry said heatedly. "I don't know, Harry." Hermione responded. "That is something we can bring up with the Headmaster. So, tell me what happened with the Dementors?" she asked. They spent the next half hour talking.
At 10:00pm the "meetings" finally finished and Sirius came to find Harry. "Pup! How are you holding up?" Sirius asked. "I'm frustrated to tell you the truth, Sirius. Why didn't you guys send any mail? What is going on with this hearing? Does Dumbledore have any ideas how to handle it?" Harry responded. "Well, pup, regarding the mail, Hermione and I tried to send you letters, but they kept on getting intercepted before we could mail them out." "Hermione told me that, Sirius. But this is your house, isn't it? How come Mrs. Weasley and Kreacher are preventing you from sending mail? Why were you not supposed to send me any mail?" Harry interrupted him.
"It is my house, pup, but Dumbledore in a way holds the keys to this golden cage. Regarding the why? Dumbledore cited security and a need for you to grieve." Sirius replied. "Security? Sirius, what Death Eater is going to monitor the muggle mail? Even if they might, why not send mail via elf?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore said it was too dangerous." Sirius shot back. "Too dangerous for whom? I went days without food at the Dursleys. Dudley and his friends went 'Harry Hunting', beating me up at least once a week. Dangerous for whom, Sirius?" Harry asked frustrated. "And, if someone was watching Privet Drive, who would even know?" Harry continued.
"The Order would know. We had someone watching you 24/7" replied Sirius. "Wha….You wha…. The Order had someone watching me 24/7?!" Hermione scrunched up her shoulders and arms waiting for Mount Potter to explode. "You had people watching as my Uncle beat me? Nobody heard anything? You had people watching while Dudley and his gang chased me and beat me up? And Nobody did anything to prevent it? You had people watching while the Dementors attacked me and did nothing? If that is the 'protection' you so call provide, who needs you?" Harry exclaimed as he stormed off. He stopped a few feet away, hands held stiffly to his sides, eyes looking down. "You, me….we maybe cell mates in this gilded cage of Dumbledore's, but color me disappointed." Harry said and walked off.
August 4, 1995 – Grimmauld Place. The next morning Harry and Ron came down to the kitchen together. Ginny and Hermione also came into the kitchen together. Mrs. Weasley, Sirius and Remus were already at the table talking softly, but stopped as soon as the kids walked in. Harry looked around and made his way to the cold box to take out some eggs, mushrooms, green onions and bacon. "Who wants eggs?" he asked. "I'll do that Harry, dear. You just sit down and I'll have breakfast ready in a few moments." Said Mrs. Weasley as she got up from the table. "It's alright Mrs. Weasley. Although I was forced to cook for the Dursleys every breakfast since I was 5, I actually enjoy cooking when I do have a choice" Harry replied, "although if you have some orange juice, pumpkin juice or coffee that would be superb!" He then commenced to perform with slicing, dicing and cooking skills Hermione never had witnessed at Hogwarts! "How come you don't slice and dice so well in potions?" she asked Harry.
"Snape has never really instructed us on the hows and whys. I imagine it is more important in potions than it is in cooking. I've been trying to check out a book in the library that might explain this stuff, but it is always checked out and there is only one copy!" Harry responded. "You know, Harry, there is a whole school of people in that castle. Is there no one there that might be able to offer you any solutions or answers?" Hermione asked. "There is, Hermione, but the one person I know is reliable is the one person I don't want to go running to every time I need an answer. I know that one person would give me the answer with no strings attached, but I want them to know I am willing and trying my hardest to find the answer first." He said. Hermione looked at him, pride shining in her face and a smile on her lips.