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Harry Potter and the Ties that Bind	By : Typa Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > General - Misc Views: 2992 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: It’s the standard: I own nothing, HP is Rowlings, AB is Hamiltons. Nothing in it for me, except perhaps my own amusement.

Chapter List
- 1-Harry Potter and the Ties that Bind
- 2-Welcome to St. Louis
- 1
- 2
Harry Potter and the Ties That Bind

A Harry Potter/Anita
Blake Crossover

Summary: With the fall of
Dumbledore, the rising of the Darkness, and knowledge of the Horcruxes, Harry
is more desperate than ever to find a way to become the hero everyone expects him
to be. Help can come from the most unexpected of places, as can new powers.
SuperPowered!Harry. HP/AB crossover.
AU, Post-HPB, Post Harlequin.

Disclaimer: It’s the
standard: I own nothing, HP is Rowlings, AB
is Hamiltons. Nothing is profiting, except perhaps my own amusement.

Notes: While having read
HP and AB books is not absolutely necessary, it will be extremely helpful. As
one might expect, this story will span at least the summer after HPB, and maybe
into the fall, focusing on HP in St. Louis, and the characters in AB, rather
than others from HP; though they will make an appearance. HP is on an
accelerated timeline so that he is almost 17 as Anita is 28.

Chapter One: A Family
Vacation

It was the third week of June as Harry Potter climbed into Uncle
Vernon’s brand new Mercedes. His belongings were safely stowed in the
extra-large trunk space, and the “new car odor” was beginning to creep into his
nostrils. Harry wrinkled his nose as he adjusted his glasses.

“Don’t scratch the door.” Vernon Dursley seemed strangely
happy, considering he had been forced to pick up his least-favorite relative
that afternoon. Harry watched him lovingly stroke the steering wheel, as he
steered the car out of the train station, before turning around to face him,
“I’ve just gotten a raise, Potter. Grunnings has
finally realized what an asset I am to the company, and have rewarded me in a
fitting manner…”

Vernon didn’t
seem to notice that Harry had tuned out by that point, and was currently
staring out the window, watching the scenery roll by. He figured it would be
his last opportunity, after all. Sighing, he looked down at the locket – the
fake Horcrux – that he held in his hand. All of that work he and Professor
Dumbledore had put into it. He cursed Voldemort and R.A.B., whoever he was, for
his headmaster’s death. Harry’s brows furrowed, as he gripped the locket
tightly. Uncle Vernon chose that moment to check to see that he was listening.

“So then we plan to- Are you even listening to me, Potter?!”
Harry murmured in affirmation, and began paying attention. Vernon
continued, “Like I was saying… As Grunnings has
finally given me the raise I deserve, your Aunt Marge will be coming in two
weeks. We plan to tour the United States,
before we return in Mid-August. You
will be staying at Number Four, and keep up with your
chores while we are away. I’ve already spoken to Arabella
Figg, and she says that she is willing and able to
check in on you every once in a while.

Now, should there be a single thing wrong with the house upon
our return, be it a dish placed back wrongly or a single chore neglected; there
will be Hell to pay. Not to mention should any harm come to the house…” He
trailed off as they pulled into the driveway.

Harry hurriedly exited the vehicle, and pulled his things
out of the trunk. Like most sixteen – almost seventeen – year old boys, he had
no desire to spend more time with his family than he needed to. Unlike most
teenage boys, however, his reasons were entirely sound. He nodded at Uncle
Vernon, and politely thanked him for the ride as he made his way toward the
house.

While his relationship with his relatives was, at best,
strained, Harry felt that this summer would pass far more easily than many
others. With the Dursleys going away for what could well be several weeks, he
would have the house to himself…and would be entirely alone, if one discounted
his ‘watchers’. Harry was sure of the fact that he would not be able to visit
his friends and that they, likewise, would be unable to visit him.

He pondered the benefits
of the increased ‘security’ on the part of the Order… From what he had seen so
far, it was not a great help. Turning his thoughts to a different topic, he
shook himself and entered the house.

Outwardly, he appeared to be fairly calm, if a little preoccupied.
Harry glanced outside and around the yard, making note of the places he
expected Order members to be camped out. He could not say that it was a
comfort, per se, to have his constant watchers, especially considering their
effectiveness two years ago. It was a small assurance, however. They were also
guaranteed not to bother him; Harry would be able to plan in peace.

And planning was something Harry was hoping to do quite a
bit of. With Professor Dumbledore’s death, he had lost his mentor – his guide
in the quest to defeat Voldemort. Without him, Harry was at a bit of a loss. He
had always had someone to rely on, whether it was his headmaster, Ron, Hermione,
or even Sirius, he had never been totally alone.

But now, it was starting to sink in: It would come down to
Harry and Voldemort, no one else. No one would be able to cast the final spells
for him. No one would hold his hand as he went off to his quite possible death.
No one would be able to give him a power boost, insuring his victory.

Sure, all of his friends – Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and
Neville in particular – would try to be right there with him, and aid him
wherever possible. But Harry had the nagging feeling that even after the events
at the Department of Mysteries and the Death Eater attack on Hogwarts, none of
them knew just what fighting the war would entail. Things were about to become
a whole lot more ugly, as well as bloody, fast.

Professor Dumbledore’s death… The fall of
the mighty Headmaster of Hogwarts, the leader of the light. It was a
major blow to the light forces, and everyone knew it. Harry sighed, as he began
to put away his belongings. Without their ‘leader’, the light side would soon
be in disarray, as the Death Eaters and Voldemort would be running rampant in
the streets. Figuratively speaking, he hoped. Harry feared that that was
exactly what Voldemort had in mind. By knocking out the top piece in the game,
they had – quite effectively – brought about cause for the light forces to run
around like headless chickens.

Which, Harry supposed, was not so different for the
ministry, as they had been operating with a ‘headless chicken’ style of action
for quite some time. But for the Order… the change was far more drastic. The
late headmaster had been venerated by all; the Order members followed him with
blind devotion. Professor Dumbledore’s second in command, Minerva McGonagall,
was revered with only a fraction of that. Harry wondered where Professor
McGonagall’s priorities would lie – First and foremost; she was now
Headmistress of Hogwarts; only second came her Order duties. But the war had
picked up speed, and things were now rolling down a steep hill. And there was
only one way to bring the downslide to a halt.

Harry had to defeat Voldemort. But to do so, he had to find
the remaining five horcruxes. And then stand up to him in a battle to the
death. There was no simple or pretty way to put it. One of them would die, and
Harry had the nagging feeling that it would be highly unlikely for him to come
out… unscathed. Not to mention all of his friends. While Harry was confident
that several Order members would be able to handle themselves, he worried about
those untrained in defensive fighting. And his friends…
While they were all alive after the Department of Mysteries battle, Harry held
no illusions. If the Death Eaters they had encountered really wished for their
deaths, a few killing curses would have been flung around.

The killing curse. Avada Kedavra. How
simple those two words were. How harmless they are apart, separate. But how
much pain they can cause when together… Not for the recipient, of course; they
would be dead. Those who knew them, however… Were left with a
deeper pain than the Cruciatus could cause.
That was something that had to end. But those left in the wake of the killing
curse would remember their losses forever, and mourn them. Each death added to
the weight on Harry that pressed upon him like an ocean presses upon an island.
Each death caused the water to rise and threaten to overwhelm him.

“Harry! Could you come down here, please? Your uncle and I
wish to speak to you,” Harry’s morbid musings were broken by his aunt’s shrill
voice. The fact that she was seemingly…polite surprised him more than the
actual call. He got up, schooled his features, and walked down the stairs to
the perfectly pristine living room. He raised his eyebrows: The Dursleys had
moved their furniture.

Now, there was a single chair directly across from the rest
of the furnishings. It did look as though they had tried to make it
comfortable; the single armchair was easily the coziest in the room, and had
two end tables next to it, one adorned with a vase filled with flowers, and the
other with a glass of water. Seeing his relatives all sitting on the couch, he
went over to the plush armchair, and sat down across from them, trying not to
feel as though he was on trial. They were all wearing somewhat forced smiles.

“Now, I know we’ve had some rough times in the past…Harry,”
Vernon began, “I know that we may not have been everything you would have
looked for in terms of loving relatives, but we have kept you safe and alive.
In turn, we know that you haven’t been the most cooperative of houseguests…”

“This is the last summer you’ll have to put up with me,
then. I turn seventeen at the end of July. The blood protections will be
wearing off then, and I’ll be out of the house. Come to think of it, I suggest
you are too,” Harry interrupted. The Dursleys paled at that. He continued, “I’m
sure that at least someone within the Death Eater ranks, or who is sympathetic
to them knows just who lives at Number Four, Privet Drive,”

Vernon cleared
his throat and changed the subject, “Ah, well… We’ll look into that… As I told
you before, I’ve been given a raise…”

“‘Much deserved’, I know, I know,” Harry muttered to
himself, looking away. Vernon
looked at him sharply, before continuing, “Which I have rightfully earned. As
such, we and your Aunt Marge will be going on holiday, in America,
in two weeks. This is a very expensive vacation, mind you, but,” Vernon
puffed up in pride, no doubt about to mention… “With my promotion, it’s no
trouble. We plan on staying in the finest hotels, visiting all the sites… We’re
going to go to the Grand Canyon, see the Statue of Liberty…
The works, you know-”

Petunia elbowed her husband, and glared at him, “Get to the
point, Vernon,” she hissed out of
the corner of her mouth, before smiling back at Harry.

“Ah, well. Right then… We are going
to have a pleasant summer. Our vacation will
be a most excellent one, for what we’ve paid, and it just wouldn’t do to
start off the summer on the wrong foot now, would it? We’ve decided to overlook
your past behavior; we are going to
get along for these next two weeks. Understood?”

Harry looked from his Aunt, to his Uncle, then back again.
He had no idea what brought about this change of heart. It slowly began to dawn
upon him, as Aunt Petunia stared at him (in what she surely thought to be a
caring and compassionate manner) and asked gently, “Is there anything you’d
like to share with us about your school year?”

The smile on Vernon’s
face became visibly strained. He hated all mention of magic, especially
regarding ‘That school for freakishness’. Harry looked suspiciously at his
Aunt.

“Er… Not particularly…Nothing major, really,”

“Did something happen to your Headmaster?” He looked at all
of them piercingly. While Vernon
and Dudley’s heartily sympathetic expressions were
laughably false, Aunt Petunia sported an expression that could be likened, with
enough imagination, to concern. Harry felt a pang of regret and sorrow deep
within his chest.

“Well, Professor Dumbledore died. That’s been…ah, difficult
to say the least,” Harry was marginally surprised to see that this news did not
seem to be much of a surprise to his relatives, “But, you knew that, didn’t
you? Is that why you’ve been so nice to me? Merlin, I knew that there had to be
a reason. You’d never just be nice to me, just to be nice, would you? So,
what’s in it for you?” Harry scowled. Petunia Dursley cringed. Vernon
started to swell up, then seemed to deflate.

“Your headmaster sent us a letter. Seems
as though he knew that he would be dying. Reminded us of our
‘responsibilities’ to you, and that there’s only about a month left that we’re
stuck with you,” At this, Petunia jabbed her husband with her elbow, “Er, I
mean, a month that we’ve got to cherish with you!” he and Dudley laughed
heartily- Petunia’s expression became pinched- “And, since it’s really only two
weeks, we figured we ought to make the most of it,”

Harry remained suspicious of their motives, certain that
there was more to their reasons than simply not wanting to deny a dying man his
last wishes. Or, at least those voiced to the Dursleys. Nevertheless, he was
not about to pass up an opportunity to have a more peaceful summer.

“Alright,” He held out his hand toward the Dursley family,
“Truce?”

His hand was engulfed by Vernon’s
meaty one. They shook hands. “Yes. Truce.” The first
sincere, non-malicious, smile Harry had seen all night broke across his face. Dudley’s
chubby features spread out in a grin, and Petunia sighed in relief. Harry
wondered if she had thought he was going to turn down their ‘offer’. His
returning smile was genuine, if a little uncertain.

“Well I think that this calls for some celebration! How
about some wine, Harry?” Harry murmured his assent. He was now confused about
his uncle’s jovial attitude. Was their truce really that much of a big deal?

Petunia moved across the room to the cabinet and began to
pull out glasses, smiling to herself all the while.
She took them to her husband before returning back to her seat.

Vernon moved off
towards his liquor cabinet. He snuck a furtive glance back at his spouse, hands
hesitating over the whiskey, before passing over it to reach for the wine. But
not before he picked the bottle up, and tipped some into his own glass.

Dudley motioned Harry closer to him.

“So… um, Harry… I guess I just wanted to say thanks for not
laughing in our faces. That would kind of have sucked…” He chuckled nervously,
“I, uh… also wanted to say that I’m sorry for beating you up when we were
younger. It was… not very nice of me?” Dudley
glanced at his mother, who gave a small jerk of her head. Dudley
looked like he was having some difficulties, but tried to press forward anyway,
“I know we may not…”

A smile ghosted across Harry’s face before his expression
returned to its calm mask as he interrupted his cousin, “It’s
okay, Dudley. I understand. I can’t say that I totally
forgive you, or even that I do forgive
you… But I can understand the importance of putting the past behind,” His
expression darkened, “All that we can do is move
ahead, yeah?” Dudley nodded vigorously.

“Though, I would like to know about this sudden change of
heart…it seems so uncharacteristic of Uncle Vernon, and, well, the rest of you
too…”

Dudley looked at him seriously, “Well,
y’know, dad’s been in a very celebratory mood since
he got that promotion. I think it makes him open to some suggestions that he
wouldn’t normally like. I still don’t think he really likes them, but since
he’s in such a good mood, doesn’t mind so much.

And, well… we’ve all been considering things since two years
ago. I know that over this past year, mum and your headmaster were
corresponding. Your headmaster seemed to think that he ought to be checking in
on you, and us. He sent her lots of letters, which she had both dad and I read,
and some books,”

Harry felt his stomach flip. He had the horrible feeling he
knew just what sort of books Professor Dumbledore would have sent the Dursleys,
especially if he was aiming for them to be sympathetic towards him.

“The books were about you. Not entirely, but gave some back
story. It was really weird. Like something out of a fairy tale. A lot to take in, y’know?” Dudley
leaned towards Harry conspiratorially, “Did you really stab a 100 meter long
snake with a flaming sword that jumped out of a hat that appeared suddenly on
your head?”

Harry frowned. He had thought that his former headmaster
would give them books that contained… More accurate versions
of the story. He smiled at Dudley, “Not quite. It
was more like 30 meters, and the sword wasn’t flaming… It did come out of a
magical hat, though, brought to me by the headmaster’s phoenix. Which is a magical bird, that I suppose does burst into flame…”

Dudley shook his head in awe, before getting
back to his tale, “But, you know dad, he fears all sorts of your freakish-”
Petunia fixed her most stern expression on him, “er,
wizardly ways. Your headmaster explained to us that he was dying… His final
request to us before the letters stopped was that we ‘show you some small
kindness’, before you go on to complete your final task. What is it you’re
supposed to do, Harry?”

Harry’s heart sank. What reason did Professor Dumbledore
have to be telling the Dursleys these sorts of things? He didn’t really want to
answer his cousin, but didn’t want to lie to him and ruin their newfound truce,
either.

He sighed, and answered his cousin, “I can’t really tell
you, Dudley… It’s very complicated, but basically,
there’s this very bad wizard – I’m the only person who can kill him, and he’s
practically unkillable-” Harry stopped speaking as
his uncle returned with the drinks and handed them out.

“To a wonderful summer holiday!” Vernon
proclaimed loudly (he was already getting a bit red in the face), and they all
toasted to that sentiment. Harry had to smile at that; how many of his summers
had really been ‘wonderful’? He doubted that this one would be much different,
even if his relatives were actively trying to be kind.

They spent a little while longer trying to make
conversation, but it was hard to find a ‘safe’ topic that they could all
participate in. It was just after 8 o’clock
when Harry excused himself to turn in for the night.

Harry tossed himself onto his bed, and stared at the
ceiling, trying to keep his thoughts from straying to the war, or his deceased
Headmaster. He turned his mind toward Ron and Hermione. He wondered what the
pair was up to at that moment. Hermione was probably revising for her NEWTs. Ron was probably avoiding doing so. Harry was not
looking forward to the year ahead. Hermione would be constantly nagging him and
Ron… That is, if they returned to Hogwarts.

Harry knew that his beloved school might not reopen in the fall
and that even if it did, he would not be likely to attend. The hunt for the
horcruxes would likely take him a long while, and it was probably that he would
not be near Hogwarts for most of the journey. Ron and Hermione had promised to
accompany him.

Harry knew he needed help, but hated to pull them into what
he felt was ‘his’ war. Especially Hermione – Harry thought that it would
practically kill her to miss her last year of schooling. And Ron was not what
Harry would deem ‘ready to go on the adventure of a lifetime’. It was almost
unfair to his friends to strive to protect them from a war that was coming to
them, but he could not help but try.

But Harry had been given a mission, and intended to see it
completed, even if it killed him.

It was with these heavy thoughts filling his mind that Harry
finally fell into a fitful and uneven sleep.

It was Saturday, the fifth of July – The day
the Dursleys were due to leave for America
– that the Dursleys received a phone call. It was what would later be known as
“The Phone Call that Changed Everything” to Harry.

The past two weeks had passed almost pleasantly, Harry
reflected, as he bent down on his knees to weed the garden. While the time spent
with his relatives had passed in civility (they had mostly tried to avoid each
other; Petunia on the other hand, continued to try interacting with him), it
was hardly as if the Dursleys allowed him to go without any chores… They were
just less haphazard, and fewer menial tasks showed up on his work list than
before.

Harry didn’t mind puttering about in the garden, he
supposed. There was a calming affect as he dug about in the soft soil, pulling
out weeds and caring for Aunt Petunia’s roses and peonies. He supposed they
were more his flowers than hers, as he had been doing all the work
to tend them. The Dursleys had definitely noticed his interest in gardening,
and played upon it to the fullest.

Petunia Dursley had been standing inside, just out of view,
as she watched her nephew in the garden. She was not a kind woman, often much
the opposite, but she regretted the fact that she had not done something to
make Harry’s life easier. He was just such a nice boy, and she and her family had never done anything to show
their support.

After reading about him and his many exploits, she could
admit to herself that she was now a bit in awe of her unwanted relative. More
of what she felt was pity, though, than anything else. The fact that she had
played a part in making his life Hell for the better part of eleven years was
no consolation.

But she allowed herself to feel no remorse. As Harry had
said, they were moving on, now…

Petunia’s observation of Harry was cut short, by the shrill
ring of the telephone.

“Hello, Dursley residence. How may I help you?”

“Petunia?” A voice wheezed into
Petunia’s ear, “Put my brother on the phone. I need to speak with him. It
appears as though I’ve come down with a bug,” Even ill, Marge managed to retain
an air of bossiness, and contempt for her sister-in-law.

“VERNON!”
Petunia called, “Your sister is on the phone! She does not sound well…”

Her husband heaved himself off the living room couch, and
made his way into the kitchen. He took the receiver, shooing Petunia away, and
answered his sister with some trepidation.

“Marge? Where have you been? You were supposed to get here
twenty minutes ago! We’ve got to leave here in two hours! Is everything alright?”

“What do you think, you great oaf?!” Vernon
was taken aback. His sister rarely called him names. She continued grumpily, “I
seem to have become ill – they say it looks like a bad case of the flu – and I
won’t be better for another two weeks, yet. I’m terribly sorry, but it looks as
though I’ll have to cancel on you. Perhaps another time…”

Vernon was at a
loss as he put the phone back in its cradle. He had already made arrangements
for four people; it was far too late
to simply cancel, and bring it down to three. He thought of the money he had
already spent, and what a waste it would be

Calling Petunia back in, he dreaded what he knew needed to
be done.

“Marge is terribly ill, dear. She won’t be able to accompany
us on our tour of America,”
he trailed off looking at his wife’s face.

Petunia pursed her lips and looked out the window to the
backyard. Looked out to where her nephew was up to his elbows in dirt and
flowers. “You know there’s only one thing that we can really do, Vernon,”
She stated matter-of-factly.

Vernon Dursley sighed. He had known what was coming, and
still did not like it, “Are you sure, darling? I’m sure that there is someone
else who would take the ticket. Maybe one of Dudley’s friends?”

“It’s too short notice.”

“Maybe one of my co-workers?”

“Are you trying to
rub your promotion in their faces? Or suck up to your superiors?”

“Are you absolutely sure there’s no one else?” Vernon
Dursley was not normally one to whine, but just couldn’t seem to help himself.
While the entire family had gotten along fairly well for the most part, Vernon
was still not prepared to accept Harry as a member of his family.

“Vernon. You
listen to me, and listen closely: That boy is a hero in his world. He may not
be our favorite person, but I can guarantee you that he is the reason we are alive today. Corresponding with his
headmaster, I found out that there are blood protections on this house that
ensure his safety. Those go both ways. Even if he was not here, the dark
wizards would know who his relatives are.

Now, I know you don’t like to think of it. I hardly enjoy it
either, but we do owe him something. It’s the least we can do to give him a bit
of a vacation before he walks out of our lives,” Petunia looked at him sharply,
her features pinched in an expression of sternness, “I’ll leave it up to you
to, ah, invite him along. Get to it, now!”

Vernon watched
his wife turn away and head back upstairs to finish packing her bags. He
reluctantly waddled out the back door, and waved to get his nephew’s attention.
Harry looked up at him, wondering what could be the matter.

“Boy, pack your bags. Your Aunt Marge has come down with the
flu. You’ve got twenty minutes to pack your bags and settle things with the
rest of your people. If you’re not in
the car in the next hour, we’ll reconsider bringing you,”

Harry stared at him in shock for a moment, then jumped up
and began tossing the garden tools away. He could not believe his luck! He,
Harry Potter, was going to America!

Harry ran up the stairs, and after rushing through a two
minute shower, he began throwing his belongings into his trunk. Stopping for a
moment to think, he added all of his textbooks, and his treasures hidden under
the loose floorboard. All of his few possessions packed, Harry put on his best
muggle clothes, and sat down to write his letters.

To
Whom It May Concern:

            I am going to be going on a much
needed vacation with my relatives for the duration of this summer. We will be
out of the country, so I (hope that I) will be hard to find. Please do not try
to contact me. I’d like to have some time to think about the events of the past
year, and plan for the next.

            While it may be difficult, I hope,
and expect, even, that you can respect my wishes- at least in this. I’d remind
you all that I am legally an adult this July, and that you have no hold over me
once that happens.

            I wish you all the best. Do not
worry about me, and I shall contact you as I am able.

Harry
J. Potter

Dear
Ron and Hermione-

            How’s your summer going? Mine is
going strangely well, actually…Guess what? The Dursleys are taking me on
vacation with them to America! We’re going to go on a tour of the place… Uncle Vernon says it’s very
expensive.

            Funny thing, really… You wouldn’t
think the Dursleys would be taking me with them, right? Well, Marge got sick
(yes, Ron, this is the woman I inflated), so I get to go! And the Dursleys have
been half-decent, this summer. It’s quite strange, their change of attitude. I
was almost wondering if someone had cursed them, or something- since I would
have thought that being nice to me would be pure torture! What a silly idea;
I’m not complaining, though.

            Hermione, don’t worry about me, as I
know you are. I’m doing well, and I’m looking forward to seeing you guys when I
return. And yes, I am keeping up with my studies. I’ll be bringing my summer
work with me to America.

            I’m also afraid that I won’t be able
to make it to Bill and Fleur’s wedding. I won’t be
able to get back in time from the trip, and if I do come, you know that there
would be no way that the Order would let me walk away from that unguarded…
Speaking of the Order, I’m kind of hoping that they won’t be able to track me
down; really looking forward to some time without my watchers.

Give my best to Bill and Fleur,
I’ll see you in a few weeks,

Harry

P.S.
Herm- Have you looked into the initials, yet?

Harry sealed up his letters, and gave them to Hedwig.

“These go to the Burrow, and this one to Order Headquarters.
Or maybe to Professor McGonagall… Now, I’m going to be in America.
Probably for the rest of the summer-Will you be able
to find me there?” She hooted affectionately, and nipped his finger in
response. Harry laughed, “Of course you will! Now, hurry off and take these;
I’ll see you in the United States of America!”

He surveyed his room with one last long look. This would be
the last time he set foot within its cramped walls. Harry smirked to himself:
Maybe he would even find a hint to the secrets of the horcruxes in America.
But then he laughed: Not likely.

By then, almost an hour had passed. Harry pulled his trunk
downstairs with alacrity, still wary of the underage magic restrictions, and
shoved it into the trunk. He even helped his aunt and cousin put their
suitcases in as well, before hopping into the car. All of the Dursleys were practically
bouncing with excitement; Harry was still a bit wary of their attitude.
Besides, he could not bring himself to burst their bubble of jubilation,
especially as he was feeling the same way- He just hid it better, still
surprised by his luck.

“Everyone ready?” Vernon
asked, as he started the car. Dudley and Petunia cheered.
Vernon turned to look at Harry,
“Well, Harry… Aren’t you going to cheer with us?”

Harry looked at him strangely, “Cheer? Why do I need to
cheer? I… uh, don’t think so…”

“But we should all cheer like a happy family going on
vacation!” Petunia added in helpfully. Harry sighed, resigned to his fate with
the ‘new and improved’ Dursleys. “Okay”.

“Alright, then,” Vernon
asked again, “Everyone ready?” Two voices again answered him with an
enthusiastic cheer. After a pointed look from the other family members, Harry
chimed in with a less-than-excited “Yay.”

As the car pulled out of the driveway and began to drive
towards the airport, a shrill voice could be heard saying, “C’mon Harry! Let’s
sing!”
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Harry Potter and the Ties that Bind