Chapter Text
To his disappointment, Harry was not allowed to go to the end of the year feast. He wasn’t there to see the Great Hall decked out in Slytherin green, but he did get to have some of the food from his feast, which he ate in bed.
“I’ll be released soon, right?” He asked Madam Pomfrey worriedly.
She sighed. “I suppose you will have to be… I’m still worried about your condition. You must eat properly over this summer... I will contact your family to inform them of your situation. If you do not get better, you may have to be hospitalized,” she added with a steely look.
Harry nodded along obediently.
Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t release Harry quite yet, but to make up for it, she let his friends spend almost as much time as they liked with him. Ron brought his chess set in, sometimes, and he would face off any challengers. Parvati tried to interpret all of their dreams, and Hermione countered by psychoanalyzing people based off of their dreams instead.
On the day they got their exam results back, they all met in the hospital wing to open them. Harry was relieved to see that he had passed; he had even gotten surprisingly good marks. Hermione, obviously, was ranked top of the year, with Draco Malfoy just below her. Even Neville scraped through, his good Herbology mark making up for his abysmal Potions one.
Harry was released just in time so as to be able to pack. As soon as the notes about not using magic over break arrived, he knew that summer was going to be a balancing act.
He packed quite differently from his dorm mates. He knew that there was a good likelihood that, with his magic as an empty threat he wouldn’t be able to fulfill, the Dursleys would lock up all of his school supplies out of fear. So, he carefully sorted his belongings into the things he could do without, over the summer, and the things he wasn’t willing to give up. His stash of sweets he’d gotten from his friends and admirers, his schoolbooks, quills, and parchment, his wand, the two books from the Lord of the Rings trilogy that he hadn’t read yet, and the terrarium for Ssslshchhshkh’lsh’hhk. He knew that there was no way to manage bringing the entire terrarium, so he moved it to the pile for things he would have to do without.
Harry packed everything but those necessities, his invisibility cloak, his school bag and his wand. He carefully packed all his necessities into his bag; it only just barely fit, but fit it did. Then, he headed to the bathroom to see if he could use the mirror to help him figure out a solution.
When Harry hung the invisibility cloak over the bag, it made a patch of his back invisible, which obviously wouldn’t work. Next, Harry tried wrapping the invisibility cloak around the bag. This time, it worked. The bag was invisible, but Harry himself was still visible. The only problem was, the strap of Harry’s bag was still visible. It looked like there was a strap hanging off his shoulder randomly.
The only option, Harry figured, was to wear a jacket, unzipped, over it. That way, the invisible bag wouldn’t cause a visible bulge, but the jacket would hopefully cover the strap.
It was difficult, doing everything with an invisible bag hanging at his side that he needed to keep everyone to realize existed. Harry made sure he was wearing his muggle clothes on the day they left; changing on the train would be impossible, without his friends finding out what was going on.
The train ride back was enjoyable all the same. They spent it talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier. They pulled into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station far, far too soon. He lingered as they got off the station, trying to savor his last few moments with his friends. His stomach was a churning pit. He scratched under Ssslshchhshkh’lsh’hhk’s chin and reminded her in a low whisper, “be on your bessst behavior, and ssstay hidden in my ssshirt…”
Luckily for Harry, getting off the platform took some time. They had to leave in groups of twos and threes, so that none of the Muggles were alarmed or noticed what was going on. Neville’s grandmother came right on time, and he was one of the first to leave; he didn’t go through the muggle side, but rather took something called a "Floo" to his manor.
Both the Weasleys and the Patils were rather late, so Harry, Ron, Padma, Parvati and Hermione all waited together.
“We’re going to go to France,” Hermione was explaining excitedly. “I’m very nearly fluent, and my parents think actually visiting would really help with my accent…”
“You should come and stay this summer,” Ron said to Harry. “I’ll send you an owl.”
“I’d love to,” Harry said with a grin.
Mr. and Mrs. Patil emerged from one of the Floos. Mr. Patil was tall, with dark skin, a sharp jawline, and a strong, aquline nose. Mrs. Patil had shiny, curled black hair, and was wearing a beautiful, vividly colored sari. When Parvati saw them, she rushed forward and gave each a quick hug, as well as a kiss on each cheek. Padma followed at a more sedate pace.
“Hello, dear,” Mrs. Patil said, pressing a kiss to Padma’s forehead. “How was Hogwarts?”
“Do you have time to meet my friends?” Parvati asked excitedly. “This is Hermione, she’s the really smart girl who told Draco Malfoy off in French, and this is Ron Weasley, and he’s Harry Potter.”
Mrs. Patil laughed, and said, “I would love to meet anyone who told off a Malfoy, but in French, doubly so.” She began to talk to Hermione in accented, clumsy-sounding French.
“It’s lovely to meet all of you,” Mr. Patil said, and shook each of their hands. His eyes lingered a split second longer on Harry, and he looked as though he had something he wanted to ask, which he restrained himself from saying. “I’ve heard so much,” he settled on at last.
“Thank you, sir,” Harry said, feeling shy and young.
Ssslshchhshkh’lsh’hhk poked her head out of Harry’s collar, looking around curiously and sniffing slightly suspiciously.
“And hello to your pet snake as well,” Mr. Patil said.
“She’s not my snake,” Harry blurted. Mr. Patil raised a single dark eyebrow, and Harry mumbled, “I mean- I don’t own her. She’s my friend, not a pet.”
A hint of a smile creased Mr. Patil’s face, and Harry had the feeling he had just passed some sort of test. “Well then,” Mr. Patil said very quietly, “hello to your sssnake friend asss well.”
Harry’s eyes flicked up in surprise, and then he smoothed his face. “He speaksss,” Ssslshchhshkh’lsh’hhk hissed in excitement. “Properly, too. None of the accent his eggsss have…”
“Ssshh,” was all Harry said. He gave Mr. Patil a slight smile and they both nodded to each other.
Harry was sad to wave goodbye to the Patils. Soon after, he, Ron, and Hermione passed through the gateway together.
“Oh, Mum, look it’s Harry Potter! I can see Harry Potter!” It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.
“Do be quiet, Ginny, and it’s rude to point,” Mrs. Weasley said, before turning her smile to the three of them.
“Thank you for the fudge,” Harry said with an answering smile.
"Oh, it was nothing, dear." She looked as though she was going to say something else, but then Uncle Vernon appeared on the scene.
“Ready, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked, glancing with a mixture of nervousness and disgust at the Weasleys. His mustache was bigger and blacker than ever. Behind him, as though hiding from Harry, were Aunt Petunia and Dudley.
“You must be Harry's family!” said Mrs. Weasley in her cheerful, friendly way.
Uncle Vernon paused as though offended or scared, and then spat out, “In a- manner of speaking…” He turned back to Harry and said, “Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day,” before waddling back off.
Harry hung back, wanting to put off leaving his friends for as long as absolutely possible. “He’s mad at me for that thing with the third floor corridor,” Harry lied through his teeth. “He’s one of those more, ah, tough-love types.”
An expression of relief on her face, Mrs. Weasley nodded.
“See you over the summer, then.” Ron said.
“I may be grounded,” Harry confessed, although it was more like, there’s a chance I may be forcibly locked away and unable to escape. “Hopefully not, but you know. They hate it when I make them worry. Like I said, I’d love to come over.”
“Hope you have a good holiday,” Hermione said, pulling Harry into a tight hug. “I’ll see you on September 1st, at the latest.”
“I will, don’t worry!” He said, pasting on another cheery grin. He gave his bag a light, subtle touch to be sure it was still all covered and intact, then turned and strode off towards the Dursleys, a forced bounce in his step and a pit of dread in his stomach.