Coming Home
Coming Home
It took Saturday Blue some time to collect her thoughts when she first woke up.
First thing she noticed, it was definitely not morning. It was too dark.
Second thing she noticed, this was definitely not her room. It took the overwhelming scent of sandy wood to remind her that she was in Harry’s bed at the Burrow. His familiar scent around her made Saturday feel safe and alive inside. She took a deep breath of his sheets. Nothing would ever feel as comforting as that aroma.
The third thing Saturday noticed was that she was starving. Seriously starving. She wondered if she could find Harry or Ron or Mrs. Weasley or someone and get something to eat so she could fall back asleep without the fear of being woken up by her own stomach.
She sat up and swayed dangerously. Her head pulsed and throbbed over her limestone-colored eyes, making her whole world dizzy. The fourth thing Saturday realized was actually a series of things. The feeling of a band aid on her forehead brought every memory rushing back. From Privet Drive, to taking the Polyjuice Potion, to being attacked, and to getting knocked off her thestral by a Death Eater.
She lied back down and squeezed her eyes shut trying to fight off the wooziness. This time, she sat up slower, cautiously placing her feet on the ground and lifting herself off the soft bed. She shuffled out of the room in a shirt-too-wide and pants-too-long (from being dressed as Harry) towards the stairs. Saturday was only a couple steps down when the sound of voices stopped her.
“This is Dark Magic, Harry.” Saturday heard Lupin’s tired, grave voice say. “Only Bellatrix LeStrange could have hit Saturday with a spell that powerful and foreign to me. She must have thought Saturday was the real you and was focused on putting you in as much pain as she could without killing you.”
Saturday dared to creep down a couple more steps so she could peek into the kitchen. Lupin sat on the counter next to Fred. Ginny and Ron each sat at a chair by the kitchen table, Hermione was nearby looking extremely contemplative.
Harry was the final person Saturday’s eyes rested on. Shirtless with every muscle in his body rigid with rage, his fists clenched tight on the kitchen table. He looked so giant in that chair, even though in reality he wasn’t all that much taller than Saturday herself. She guessed the visible tension in his body was enough to make him appear larger.
“She didn’t deserve this.” Harry said through clenched teeth. “When I get my hands on Bellatrix…”
All of a sudden, Harry erupted from the table slamming his fists powerfully. His outburst was so forceful the chair came clattering the ground. Saturday saw Ginny flinch at the sound.
“If I ever see Bellatrix LeStrange again in my life,” He began to shout. “I swear to God, I’ll kill her! I’ll fucking kill her for hurting Saturday like that!”
“And that’s not going to help her right now, is it?” Ron snapped up. Harry’s breathing was rough and vigorous like a werewolf trying not to transform. Ron stood up and got in Harry’s face. Saturday would have thought this to be a very dangerous idea at the present moment, with all this angry in Harry’s body.
“Someone’s going to come for her and you and all of us soon enough, you know that as well as I do. None of us know how bad it will be, but we know it’s coming. Until then, we just need to keep safe. Keep her safe as well as you.”
Harry’s breathing had steadied a bit, but his fists were still balled up tight.
“You’re her guardian angel.” Ron finished in the smallest voice Saturday was able to hear from her distance. Harry let out a final relaxing sigh and nodded.
“And next time,” Lupin said as he bent down to pick up the chair, “try not to create such a bang. You’ll wake her up.”
Saturday took this as her cue, and hurried back upstairs into the comfort of Harry’s covers. She faced the wall, feigning sleep, as she listened for Harry’s footsteps creaking up the stairs, towards where she laid.
He cautiously crawled in next to her, touching her band-aid gingerly. Then, he kissed the back of her neck and wrapped his arms around him. At this moment, it was impossible for either of them to not feel grateful for the fact that they were still alive.
“I won’t quit fighting, Harry,” Saturday whispered as softly as she could. “I’m with you. Until the very end.”
“I know,” Harry’s gruff whisper responded. “But you have to know, if it ever gets to this point, if your life is on the line in front of my eyes, I will step in front of any curse, any danger, to keep you safe.”
“It won’t get to that point, Harry. At the end of this, you and I WILL be together- that much I am sure. At the end of all of this... you and I are coming home.”
First thing she noticed, it was definitely not morning. It was too dark.
Second thing she noticed, this was definitely not her room. It took the overwhelming scent of sandy wood to remind her that she was in Harry’s bed at the Burrow. His familiar scent around her made Saturday feel safe and alive inside. She took a deep breath of his sheets. Nothing would ever feel as comforting as that aroma.
The third thing Saturday noticed was that she was starving. Seriously starving. She wondered if she could find Harry or Ron or Mrs. Weasley or someone and get something to eat so she could fall back asleep without the fear of being woken up by her own stomach.
She sat up and swayed dangerously. Her head pulsed and throbbed over her limestone-colored eyes, making her whole world dizzy. The fourth thing Saturday realized was actually a series of things. The feeling of a band aid on her forehead brought every memory rushing back. From Privet Drive, to taking the Polyjuice Potion, to being attacked, and to getting knocked off her thestral by a Death Eater.
She lied back down and squeezed her eyes shut trying to fight off the wooziness. This time, she sat up slower, cautiously placing her feet on the ground and lifting herself off the soft bed. She shuffled out of the room in a shirt-too-wide and pants-too-long (from being dressed as Harry) towards the stairs. Saturday was only a couple steps down when the sound of voices stopped her.
“This is Dark Magic, Harry.” Saturday heard Lupin’s tired, grave voice say. “Only Bellatrix LeStrange could have hit Saturday with a spell that powerful and foreign to me. She must have thought Saturday was the real you and was focused on putting you in as much pain as she could without killing you.”
Saturday dared to creep down a couple more steps so she could peek into the kitchen. Lupin sat on the counter next to Fred. Ginny and Ron each sat at a chair by the kitchen table, Hermione was nearby looking extremely contemplative.
Harry was the final person Saturday’s eyes rested on. Shirtless with every muscle in his body rigid with rage, his fists clenched tight on the kitchen table. He looked so giant in that chair, even though in reality he wasn’t all that much taller than Saturday herself. She guessed the visible tension in his body was enough to make him appear larger.
“She didn’t deserve this.” Harry said through clenched teeth. “When I get my hands on Bellatrix…”
All of a sudden, Harry erupted from the table slamming his fists powerfully. His outburst was so forceful the chair came clattering the ground. Saturday saw Ginny flinch at the sound.
“If I ever see Bellatrix LeStrange again in my life,” He began to shout. “I swear to God, I’ll kill her! I’ll fucking kill her for hurting Saturday like that!”
“And that’s not going to help her right now, is it?” Ron snapped up. Harry’s breathing was rough and vigorous like a werewolf trying not to transform. Ron stood up and got in Harry’s face. Saturday would have thought this to be a very dangerous idea at the present moment, with all this angry in Harry’s body.
“Someone’s going to come for her and you and all of us soon enough, you know that as well as I do. None of us know how bad it will be, but we know it’s coming. Until then, we just need to keep safe. Keep her safe as well as you.”
Harry’s breathing had steadied a bit, but his fists were still balled up tight.
“You’re her guardian angel.” Ron finished in the smallest voice Saturday was able to hear from her distance. Harry let out a final relaxing sigh and nodded.
“And next time,” Lupin said as he bent down to pick up the chair, “try not to create such a bang. You’ll wake her up.”
Saturday took this as her cue, and hurried back upstairs into the comfort of Harry’s covers. She faced the wall, feigning sleep, as she listened for Harry’s footsteps creaking up the stairs, towards where she laid.
He cautiously crawled in next to her, touching her band-aid gingerly. Then, he kissed the back of her neck and wrapped his arms around him. At this moment, it was impossible for either of them to not feel grateful for the fact that they were still alive.
“I won’t quit fighting, Harry,” Saturday whispered as softly as she could. “I’m with you. Until the very end.”
“I know,” Harry’s gruff whisper responded. “But you have to know, if it ever gets to this point, if your life is on the line in front of my eyes, I will step in front of any curse, any danger, to keep you safe.”
“It won’t get to that point, Harry. At the end of this, you and I WILL be together- that much I am sure. At the end of all of this... you and I are coming home.”