Chapter Ten

   Harry returned home around ten o'clock that morning drenched in his own sweat and aching from head to toe. Dudley's idea of a "beginner's" workout had required Harry to use muscles he previously hadn't realized he possessed. Harry had been surprised to find that interacting with Dudley had been the easy part and the working out extremely difficult, having expected quite the opposite. Of course the strenuous exercising hadn't allowed much leeway for conversation, other than the occasional directions and sparse praise from Dudley. The end of the session had ended in a sweaty handshake, an "Atta boy," from Dudley to Harry and an arrangement to meet at the same place at the same time the day after next. Although he had to admit that it felt nice to leave his flat for somewhere other than the dank, dim bar, Harry also could not pretend that the day had been easy. He hadn't expected it to be, of course... but he also hadn't expected it to be as challenging as it had been. It was like a rude slap to Harry's face for him to discover just how out of shape he had let himself become. Harry was feeling positive in the moment however that under Big D's tutelage, he would shed the extra pounds packed on by both alcohol and long periods of inactivity, and perhaps along with them, his negative attitude. Harry wasn't sure where this recently acquired sense of confidence had come from, but he found that he rather fancied it.
   Remembering his promise to call Hermione and tell her about his day, Harry made his way into his sitting room, stripping out of his wet, foul smelling clothing as he went until he was down to his boxers by the time he reached both the telephone and the couch he collapsed onto. Realizing that his wand had been tucked somewhere amongst his clothing, Harry bent forward with an audible groan at the stretching of already sore muscles until he was able to unearth it from under the crumpled heap of scarlet that was his sweat pants. He flopped back into his seat and held the wand aloft as he said the words, "Accio Water." Moments later he reached out and snatched out of the air the bottle of water that had came zooming towards him from the kitchen. Cracking the lid, he gulped down nearly half the bottle in one long swallow. Feeling slightly replenished, he found the bit of strength he needed to pick up the phone and dial Ron and Hermione's telephone number.
   "Hullo?," Ron's voice answered.
   "Hey, it's Harry. Alright, Ron?"
   "Yeah mate, I'm brilliant. How are things for you?"
   "I feel like I've been chased and beaten by Dobby's rogue Bludger," Harry answered with a derisive snort.
   "That good, eh? Hermione told me her plan. I told her she was mental. But she was determined... and you know how Hermione gets when she's got her mind set to something. I just never thought she'd actually get the Muggle to go along with it!," Ron sounded genuinely surprised.
   "Yeah, me neither. Outsmarted me once again, I suppose."
   "Well mate, I mean it's not like that's very hard to do...," there was a smile in Ron's voice.
   "Yeah, yeah... put Hermione on, will you?"
   "Hello?," Hermione's gentle voice issued from the phone speaker now.
   "Hi, Hermione. Just called to let you know that I'm still alive... barely."
   "Glad to hear it! How was it? Are you all bulging biceps and rippling abs now?," she questioned, a tone of mirth detectable. Harry laughed out loud before he managed to answer her.
   "No, not quite yet. I think I might can at least manage to get back to the body I had right before I er.... left work."
   "Well that's a start. I mean you can't really expect more than that, can you? How was it with Dudley? Was he as terrible as you imagined?," Harry could sense a note of sarcasm coloring Hermione's voice now.
   "Oh ha, ha. Yes, he was absolutely dreadful. Worse than Snape and Filch combined," Harry retorted.
   "Well he sounds just downright delightful then," and Harry could tell that Hermione was now grinning. "Did Ron tell you about the owl his father sent him today?," she asked, turning suddenly serious.
   "No, he didn't. What owl?," Harry found himself getting nervous now.
   "Oh well Mr. Weasley sent a message for you, care of Ron. He didn't want to take a chance on you not receiving his owl. He says that he heard from Percy that the Aurors are holding a meeting tomorrow about the new information that's been cropping up. He says that they're also going to discuss electing a new Head of Department. Arthur reckons that you ought to show up and convince them to let you have your job back."
   "I'm not ready to go back to work yet," Harry immediately replied.
   "Well yes, I know you're not ready right now but you will be! I'm sure Harry if you just go in there and explain that you're trying to get your life back in order and that you really want to come back they'll at least consider! And if all else fails you can still throw around the fact that you're Harry-bloody-Potter, that's still got to count for something!," Hermione swore vehemently.
    Harry smiled in spite of himself. He couldn't help but get fired up when Hermione was impassioned like this. He could practically visualize her eyes ablaze with her brand of steely determination. Maybe there was something to her suggestion. It did seem like the right time for him to return. He knew when he'd been unceremoniously thrown out on his can years back that the Ministry had claimed that they would contact him, but all the same it felt quite foolish to sit back and just simply allow someone else to take claim to what he still thought of as his position. With a certainty that Harry hadn't felt in a long time, he quickly made up his mind. 
   "He's absolutely right. What time is this meeting taking place?," he asked Hermione now.
   "Nine o'clock.... why?"
   "I'm going to be there, that's why. I'm going to try to get my job back."
   "Oh Harry, that's wonderful!," squealed Hermione. Harry could tell she was grinning again. A smile broke out across his face too.
   "I'll talk to you later then, I haven't eaten yet today and I'm starved. Oh and tell Ron I'm proud of him for learning how to talk properly on the phone."
  "Will do. Call me tomorrow and-"
   "Tell you how it goes. Will do," Harry echoed. He and Hermione said goodbye and then hung up. Harry sat back on the couch taking another sip from his bottled water and began to contemplate all the sudden changes that had taken place as of recent. They all led back to one source: that mysterious brown eye within Sirius' mirror.