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Summer Holiday	By : orchid Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2901 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Summer Holiday Chapter 8. Confessions & Catastrophe

"Morning Harry." Ron yawned as he stretched out on his bed. Harry rolled onto his front, jammed a pillow over his head and mumbled indistinctly.

"I'm gonna shower." Ron stated, throwing back his covers and stumbling sleepily towards the bathroom. Under his pillow Harry frowned angrily recalling last night's happenings. He had only managed to fall asleep after endless hours of tossing and turning amongst his sheets, unable to settle. Hearing the shower click on and the splashing of the water, Harry screwed up his eyes and forcing his brain to clear, drifted back to sleep. After showering Ron re-entered the bedroom, he pulled on a pair of tattered shorts and a tee-shirt Hermione had bought him back from one of her holidays in southern France. Glancing briefly at the slow rise and fall of the mound in Harry's bed, he headed for the kitchen. Staring around, Ron realised that he was surprisingly, first up. He pulled open the fridge and began to create a giant breakfast for himself. He was just frying three eyes and some rashers of bacon when Hermione pranced into the kitchen.

"Morning gorgeous!" She chirped happily ruffling his hair affectionately, "This shirt looks good." She added tugging playfully on the back of the top, and glancing over his shoulder into the sizzling pan. Ron grinned.

"Thanks! Want some?" He offered, Hermione wrinkled her nose with a laugh and shook her head.

"No thanks! I'll have toast." She replied and slotted two slices into the toaster pulling it down and rummaging around the kitchen for butter, jam and knives. Cheerily she asked Ron about his night and Ron supplied her with the details of his conversations with Zara, the girl he had met at the bar at the beginning of the holiday.

"She's so cool." Ron enthused, "She's been travelling for five months, and the places she's been... they sound amazing!" He said dreamily. Hermione chuckled and poked him in the ribs lightly.

"Mmm getting on well then?" She said Ron nodded happily. "What about Harry and that other girl?" She asked buttering her toast and eyeing Ron's plate piled high with toast, eggs and bacon. Ron shrugged squeezing tomato ketchup all over his food,

"I dunno, she seems cool, his type, but he left real early last night. Maybe they weren't getting along, I dunno. He's still asleep." He said shovelling a forkful of food into his mouth. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Oh," She said taking a bite of her toast and washing it down with a mouthful of orange juice. Moments later a very hung over pair of twins staggered into the kitchen. Fred pulled himself up onto a stool next to Hermione, and George sat next to Ron opposite her. Hermione smiled faintly amused at the queasy expressions on their green tinged faces. Ron laughed, and waved a forkful of bacon beneath George's nose making his elder brother blanch.

"Want some George?" Ron asked chortling. George shook his head furiously covering his mouth, then stopped abruptly as if the movement hurt him and cupped his head with his spare hand. Hermione rolled her eyes,

"Good night boys?" She asked jumping down from her stool and pouring two glasses of water and setting them in front of the twins. George nodded lightly trying to not move his head too much.

"Mmm." Fred murmured in agreement taking a sip of water. "Feeling a bit rough though." He added with a sigh. Hermione laughed.

"Really? I'd never have guessed." She said sarcastically, "Hold on here a sec, I've got something for you." She added speeding off towards her room. She pulled open a drawer on her dresser and picked out a small glass bottle containing an electric blue potion. Walking back into the kitchen she grabbed a spoon from the counter and set it and the bottle in between Fred and George.

"There you go, Madame Malkin's Hangover Cure." She said, "For those morning after's, also suitable for use after Stag and Hen nights, New Year parties and Pub Crawls." She quipped quoting the label with a grin. Fred poured a spoonful, grimaced and swallowed it, George repeating his actions. Fred shook his head in amazement.

"Wow! That stuff is incredible, I feel great!" He said hopping off his stool, pulling open the fridge and swigging from the milk carton. George nodded and began munching a banana he plucked from the fruit bowl upon the counter,

"Fantastic! Just what me and Fred needed. Why didn't we ever think to look for a magical cure before?" He cursed himself. Fred shrugged wiping the milk moustache away from his mouth.

"Dunno. Cheers ‘Mione." He said with a thankful grin. Hermione waved her hand and went back to eating her toast. Letting Fred and George's conversation wash over her, she only looked up when she heard the bedroom door click shut behind her, turning she saw Bill emerge. He had showered and his hair was wet and tousled, his fresh, crisp white tee shirt showed up his ever deepening tan. Catching Hermione's eye a huge grin spread across his face, she smiled back.

"Morning Bill." She said keeping her voice even as she spun back around to sip her orange juice again, "Do you want a drink?" She asked.

"Yeah, please." He replied sliding onto the seat next to her and pouring a bowlful of cereal he began to munch through it. Hermione dispensed a glass of orange juice and pushed it towards him. They began chatting contently with Ron when the door swung open and Harry slouched into the room. On first glance Hermione could instantly tell something was wrong, Harry's face was set in a scowl and he walked stiffly into the kitchen and stood with his back to the table pouring a glass of water.

"Morning lazy." Ron drawled with a grin as Harry slid into a seat next to him with a plate of toast and croissants.

"Morning." He grunted, beginning to spread Nutella over his bread. Hermione frowned slightly at his black mood. Clearing her throat she reached across the table and put her hand over his,

"You okay Harry?" She queried concernedly, Harry jerked his hand away and looked up with a thunderous glare directed right at her. Hermione started. "What's wrong?" She exclaimed,

"Nothing." Harry snarled abruptly, his intense gaze flitted momentarily from her face to Bill's then set back down to the table. Hermione swallowed, realisation dawning on her. He knew. Her mind darted back desperately and with horror, she remembered. Bill had locked the door last night, yet this morning he had wandered through it without needing to unbolt it. She felt her face flush deeply; Harry had been there sometime before the morning. He had seen. Ron frowned in confusion at the uneasy silence, and then a grin spread across his face.

"Maybe Harry needs a bit of that potion." Ron suggested with a grin, indicating the bottle. "He drowned his sorrows about his crappy date and is regretting it." He added with a chuckle. Harry glanced at the potion,

"No. I just need some fresh air." He said, and picking up his plate he headed out onto the patio.

Harry stormed across the smooth paving and stalked over the garden to a secluded, leafy point out of sight from the villa. He sat down and held his head in his hands, ignoring the persistent stabbing pain that was shooting through it. Why did he have to feel this way? He asked himself angrily, you should want her to be happy, and she obviously is with Bill. You missed your chance. She's gone. Harry's stomach twisted dangerously and he pushed his plate away from him with a groan. A moment later he felt someone drop down into the cool grass beside him. Hermione stared at him; her skin was dappled by the shadows of the leafy plants the curved over their heads. They sat in silence for a few minutes Harry following a butterfly fluttering around them and Hermione tearing out little shreds of grass. Eventually Hermione spoke.

"Harry?" She ventured quietly. Harry stirred and continued to watche the brightly coloured butterfly dance through the air in front of him. Hermione sighed exasperatedly and then said, "Look, I'm sorry if you saw— if you saw something last night. Can we not talk about why you're so upset?" She asked keeping her voice even. Harry snorted dismissively.

"Isn't it obvious?" He retorted unable to keep the wavering resent and hurt out of his voice. Hermione shook her head,

"No." She replied glancing at him, Harry kept facing forward and paused a moment before speaking again.

"Last night. I came to find you because I wanted to talk to you about— about something I had been thinking about. I knocked and you didn't answer, then I saw you were in the bathroom, I knocked and called you but you didn't answer." He paused and met her eyes. "I was worried. So I opened the door. You were there with Bill." He ended simply, his gaze tearing away from her eyes as if it hurt him to look at her. Hermione swallowed.

"What did you want to speak about?" She asked softly, half not wanting to hear the answer. Hermione heard Harry take a sharp intake of breath, and the question hung in the air between them for what seemed like an age.

"I wanted to talk about us." He replied eventually. Hermione closed her eyes,

"Us?" She croaked faintly.

"I think— I know— I'm still in love with you" Harry said, he felt hollow. He couldn't believe he had said it. The weight was off his shoulders, and the whirling thoughts had vanished, his mind just felt empty. Hermione stayed silent, her toffee coloured pupils burning into his emerald ones, her mouth slightly open in astonishment, she had never thought he'd actually say it. Not knowing how to reply as she felt as though all her emotions had suddenly disappeared. Knowing she had to speak, as the silence was killing both of them, Hermione opened her mouth when a yell cut her off. George was running towards them across the lawn, a look of utter terror plastered across his face.

"Harry! Hermione!" He gasped huskily, "Come quick! It's Dad." Hermione tore her eyes away from Harry's face in confusion, as she jumped up.

"What?" She stuttered, but George had already set off back to the villa at a run. Without exchanging another word Hermione and Harry sprinted after him. They ran into the kitchen and stared around wildly. Fred and George were sat beside each other of the sofa, both pale and silent staring at the swirls in the marble floor. Ron was sat with his back to Harry and Hermione; he was slumped onto his arms over the table, his shoulders shaking. Bill turned to face them; underneath his tanned golden skin was a grey shade.

"We've got to go back. Dad's in hospital." Bill said in a dead sounding voice. Hermione stared at him.

"What's happened? Is he okay?" She asked. Bill shook his head.

"I don't know. I spoke to Dumbledore, our house was ransacked. Mum and Ginny are completely shaken up, but unharmed. But Dad—" Bill trailed off looking as if he might throw up. Hermione stepped forward to put her hand on his arm but Bill pulled away roughly. "Dumbledore thinks— he thinks it was Voldemort." Bill stuttered, his face now a green colour, and his usually cobalt eyes had darkened to the navy Hermione had seen the night before, though this time not through passion but fear and grief. Hermione heard Harry move behind her, but she couldn't look around, she kept her gaze on Bill, feeling her head begin to reel as his word hit her, she tried to stay calm.

"How are we getting back?" She asked.

"Dumbledore is sending a port key here. It's going to be a blue decorated flowerpot; it'll be out on the patio any minute." Bill replied in monotone. Hermione nodded, her eyes slid past him to Ron's hunched figure, she moved forward but Bill stepped in front of her and shook his head. "Everyone get your wands, and then get outside." He said. Fred and George rose together and walked silently to their room; Hermione stared at Ron's back before turning and following Harry down the corridor. Grabbing her wand she returned to the corridor at the same time as Harry, he had his and Ron's wands in his hand. Their eye's met for a moment, fear and disbelief reverberated between the gaze, then Harry turned and headed back to the kitchen pursued by Hermione. The kitchen was empty, Fred, George and Ron were crouched on the patio staring intently at a small prettily painted flowerpot, china blue flowers were dotted around the ring. Bill was stood waiting for them; Harry dropped to his knees beside Ron and pressed his wand into his palm. Hermione squatted in the ring and reaching up entwined her fingers with Bill's pulling him into the circle. The group waited a moment, then Bill spoke again.

"Okay on the count of three." He glanced around, Fred, George and Harry's eyes were focused blankly on the pot, but Ron's were screwed up as he rocked silently on his ankles, tears rolling down his cheeks. Hermione was looking alarmed and murmuring soothing noises, as she smoothed her spare hand over his back. "Ron!" Bill barked, mustering his energy to pull his brother together, although he felt like falling apart himself. Ron stopped rocking but didn't open his eyes. "On the count of three, OK?" He repeated forcing his voice to be strong and clear, Ron nodded, and Bill watched Hermione's hand snake down to guide Ron's fist to the pot, it relaxed and he hovered a finger over the rim. Hermione hovered her hand and turned her face to Bill's. Her eyes were wide with fear and another less recognisable emotion, she squeezed his hand which was still entwined with hers, but Bill tore it away, as he averted his gaze to the pot. Clearing his throat, he shakily spoke"

"One—two—three!"

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Summer Holiday