Summer Rituals

Author's Note:This work is a sequel to Ritually Yours. If you haven't read that, you're going to miss a lot, so go back and read it. It's story id: 8631152.

Do not expect this to be updated quickly. I made a decision to post the prologue at the same time as the epilogue to Ritually Yours, so some people could set up their follow notifications, but Chapter One will not be posted until I have completed Chapter Three. Also, my push to get Ritually Yours done has caused a backlog of scenes for other of my works and other ideas that I need to clear up before I can seriously work on this one.

As noted in Ritually Yours, Summer Rituals involves subject matter that some may find uncomfortable. In particular, Hermione is having a baby (within the first chapter), Harry is recovering from being abused, and other issues are coming to the fore. That being said, this is a much lighter story than Ritually Yours was.


Harry Potter remembered leaving King's Cross station. He'd been glad to leave the Dursley's but worried that he'd be treated just like the freak that the Dursleys had called him all his life. He remembered looking back seeing the young girl he now knew was Ginny Weasley laughing and following the train along the platform to then end, waving as it pulled away.

He'd been back to King's Cross twice since then. Those had been different though. He'd been accompanied by Professor McGonagall both times. This time there was no adult along, sitting with, or in the compartment next door. This time the adults were waiting. This time he was finally going to meet his new foster father.

Harry didn't know what a real father was like. He hadn't reached his second birthday when his parents were killed. He remembered barely anything, though he sometimes dreamed of it. He sometimes felt the arms of his mother around him, the whisper of his father crying higher, faster into the wind.

He did not want to remember what his uncle had done to him, but Uncle Vernon had been the only male figure of authority in his life for most of it. Hogwarts had not provided him with a figure to replace it, really. Dumbledore was not a father figure, but a grand fatherly type. , and his male professors either hated him or were just teachers to him.

Hermione had spotted her parents from the carriage window, but they had delayed disembarking, letting some of the crowd out first. He didn't intend to be separated from his pregnant friend as she waddled out of the train, but it took a bit to get and arrange for both their trunks and Hedwig's cage to be placed on a cart. So he was quite a bit behind Hermione, separated from her by the crowd by the time she reached her parents.

Hermione was already embracing her mother, trying to hug tightly despite her being a week from her due date, and her mother being just three and a half months behind her. Harry smiled as Mrs. Granger held her daughter at arm's length, as Hermione smiled and giggled.

His smile left him though, when he spotted Mr. Granger. Mr. Granger was six foot three. Harry was barely four foot six, thanks to his time at the Dursleys. Mr. Granger seemed to be stalking towards him. Suddenly he started to breath hard and fast, as Hermione's father approached. Each step seemed to be maddingly slow as the man loomed closer, wearing the same color jacket and tie that his Uncle Vernon wore.

Harry's fears of Uncle Vernon beating him when he saw him again started to overwhelm his vision. He stepped backwards once, then again. His foot landed on something round, and suddenly he fell, unable to catch himself. His body twisted in the fall, his head somehow impacting the sharp edge of someone's trunk before Hermione's father was in range.

The impact almost knocked him out, even as his further descent was stopped by Mr. Granger's strong arms. He could feel pain just above his left eye from the trunk as he settled in to Monty Granger's arms.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed from out of Harry's view.

"Anyone have a first aid kit?" Mr. Granger demanded as Harry's eyes closed. He pressed a cloth against Harry's head, as he gently laid him down.

Harry's last thought on platform nine and three quarters was that Uncle Vernon was going to kill him for getting blood on his trunk.