Philophobia.
The fear of falling in love.
In which the Golden quartet find out the lies of a certain headmaster.
Or...
In which 4 Gryffindors find home in people they would never expect.
He glanced at Caelum and saw him staring at Pendragon junior. Draco shook his head his friends oblivious nature. Yes, Caelum could be terryfying as fuck but he would protect the people he loved till his last breath. And it seemed that he had taken an interest in Aurelis Pendragon.
They drove. And they drove. Even Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake 'em off... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this. They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.
Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering...
They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table. "'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk." She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:
Mr. H. Potter Room 17 Ralview hotel Cokeworth
Harry made a grab for the letter but Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared. "I'll take them," said Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room. "Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage. "Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Petunia dully late that afternoon. Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared. It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley snivelled. "It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television."
Daphne sneered.
"Daddy has always been mad Duddykins".
Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it was Monday — and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days the week, because of television — then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun — last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Vernon's old socks. Still, you weren't eleven every day.
"Remind me to murder them when we get back".
Ron grinned, "Call me for back up Aury".
Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought. "Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!" It was very cold outside the car. Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there. "Storm forecast for tonight!" said Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"
A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wickedgrin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-grey water below them. "I've already got ussome rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!" It was freezing in the boat. Icy seaspray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After whatseemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.
Mirdin frowned at the state of the house.
"It's horrible".
The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistledthrough the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. Therewere only two rooms. Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each andfour bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked andshrivelled up. "Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully. He wasin a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.
"You'd be surprised".
"'Mione shhh".
"I'll stop talking Aury, just stop screaming in my ear".
As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the highwaves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed forDudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Vernon went off to the lumpy bed nextdoor, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up underthe thinnest, most ragged blanket.
The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn'tsleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumblingwith hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that startednear midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge ofthe sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay andwatched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all,wondering where the letter writer was now
Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roofwasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybethe house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd beable to steal one somehow.
Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And(two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling intothe sea?
One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty... ten... nine —maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him — three... two... one...
BOOM.
"AAH".
Helena screamed and toppled of her chair.
"Fuck".
Everyone turned to Aurelis. She was sitting on one of the sofa's next to Harry. Popcorn was strewn everywhere. The bang of the door had surprised her so she dropped her popcorn.
Hermione shook her head and muttered a cleaning spell.
"Thanks 'Mione".
"Give me some popcorn and you're forgiven".
The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.
