Expelled - Harry Potter Fanfic (REWRITE)

Chapter Nine

It was another stifling evening, the sun having disappeared, but the rays of light brutal to the unfortunate souls' eyes it flashed into. Dudley and Petunia were exiting their house and entering their car. Vernon had survived, and they visited him at the end of each day for a few hours.

If anyone was out in the heat, or even through their window trying to encourage a breeze, they would hear Dudley boasting about who he had encountered - that meant beat up - earlier that day.

He watched as Dudley was handed the keys to the car: he had recently begun to learn to drive, and it was evident that he shared his father's hot temper on the road, frequently cutting people off, cursing when they do it, and complaining about everyone.

It was only the third time he was assigned to watch the house, but Kingsley was sure he had gotten the gist of those Muggles and found that Harry and Arabella had been right. They really were some of the worst kinds of people one could be raised with.

As an auror, one of the qualifications they must be equipped with is understanding someone simply by being in their general presence. It was something Kingsley both picked up quickly and enjoyed parts of it. He had done it to Harry (and several members of the Order) and was doing it to his family now.

In his line of work, he discovered that while most people are easy to read after enough time, there are few who Kingsley just can't seem to figure out completely. Harry was one of those people.

He hadn't really known what to expect of a fourteen year old who was sent to his Muggle family fresh off of dueling with You-Know-Who, but asking if he had to go back to that house was not part of it.

At first, he thought of Harry as a confused, mistrustful, disoriented boy, though none of the blame could be placed on him.

Then, at Grimmuald Place, he found him to be more easygoing and kind, almost tipping over into innocence and sweetness.

But both times, there was something else, something deeper and darker that had taken Kingsley several days to figure out. He figured that the boy had layers of anger and suspicion written on his bones and did not trust the Order completely because he did understand why he was not given the information he, in Kingsley's opinion, deserves to know.

And just as he thought he understood Harry, more small details through him off. For one thing, Harry always wore a jacket, even when he was sweating and working in the muggy house.

Another thing, he didn't seem to want to get too close to any adults, not even Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, or Remus, all he thought he would be close to. He always stuck close to one of his two closest friends. But the moment they approached him and started a conversation, he tried to back away and go back to Ron's or Hermione's side. In fact, the longest conversation he had seen Harry have with an adult was when Sirius had been talking about his family tree to Harry as everyone else ate.

Kingsley shifted his weight to his other foot. Harry hadn't shown his face for a second since he'd been back. Perhaps it was a slight revenge to the Order, a way to force them to see him. If so, then Remus was right: he really did get his brains from his mother.

Kingsley had already graduated from his auror training by the time he joined the Order of the Phoenix, and he had met Harry's parents there. Many members were older, like Mad-Eye, so there were several occasions Kingsley signed up on a task with one of them. He even got invited to their wedding.

The sun fully went down, and a breeze started up, cooling Kingsley down almost immediately. If anyone was out, a series of three cracks would be heard close to midnight, but several people had gone to bed by that time. He watched as three dark shapes knocked on the door and, given no response, unlocked and entered it themselves. He could hear Tonks and Charlie joking amongst themselves.