Chapter One: O.W.L. results
Harry Potter, of number four Privet Drive, awoke with a start. He had had the same all too familiar dream again; he saw the flash of red light, and his godfather, Sirius, fall through the archway and not return. Harry hated having to relive Sirius's death over and over again every night, and he dreaded falling asleep because of it.
Harry rolled over on his bed and reached for his glasses. It was past midnight, and he was now sixteen years old. But he did not care.
"Who cares if it's my birthday anyway? I've no one to celebrate with anyway."
Harry was still too over come with grief over the loss of Sirius to hear his owl, Hedwig, hoot reproachfully, or to think of his friends Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid. The only things that had been on his mind since the end of the last school year was Sirius and the guilty conscience he had carried with him ever since Sirius's death. He knew quite well that Lord Voldemort had lured him into the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic letting Harry believe that Sirius was being tortured. And he knew that if he never would have gone in the firs place, getting himself and his friends into the trouble that Sirius had come to save them from, Sirius would never have died and Harry would still have his godfather.
Harry took off his glasses and laid them back on the table beside his bed. He could hear Uncle Vernon's dreadful snoring, and his cousin Dudley's snores that seemed to shake the entire house. Harry thought of Hogwarts, and looked at the calendar that showed how many more miserable days he would have to spend at the Dursley's before he went back. He remembered how the Weasleys and Hermione had promised to get Harry out of there during the summer, and the thought gave him and sliver of hope.
He longingly thought of the castle, with the Great Hall and the many stairways and corridors. He thought of classes, from Care of Magical Creatures with his favorite teacher, Hagrid, to his least favorite class, Potions, with his least favorite teacher, Professor Snape. He thought of Hogsmeade trips, of having a butterbear in the Three Broomsticks with Ron and Hermione. He thought of Quidditch, which he had been banned from last year by Professor Umbridge. But now that she was gone, he hoped that he would be able to play again. He thought that Professor Dumbledore would probably let him play again. Professor Dumbledore.
Professor Dumbledore.Harry could still remember what he had told him at the end of the previous school year. Even thinking of him made Harry feel angry. Professor Dumbledore had finally sat Harry down and explained to him what Harry had been asking himself for years. He could not so easily forget what Dumbledore had told him. Of how either Harry or Lord Voldemort would eventually kill the other. Of how Harry alone had the power to destroy Voldemort forever, This so called prophecy, encountered at the Department of Mysteries, had left Harry feeling alone and isolated in the magical world; no one else that he knew of carried around a prophecy that they might be the one who could destroy Lord Voldemort for good. Yet thinking of Dumbledore also made Harry feel content and safe. Not only was he the only person that Lord Voldemort feared, he was the person who always believed Harry when no one else would.
Harry knew what he would do. In the morning he would send an owl to Sirius; he could always talk to him about anything. But suddenly he remembered: Sirius was dead and he was not coming back.
Harry closed his eyes, hoping that he did not have that dream again, and wishing that he could give up all the gold in his Gringott's vault to bring Sirius back. But he knew that was impossible. A moment later he had fallen asleep again.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Harry!! Harry!! Get up at once and get down here and call those wretched.people. Now!!"
Harry still had not gotten used to the fact of being expected to use the telephone so much. The Dursleys usually did all that they could to make sure that Harry was as isolated from the magical world and the people in it as was possible. But at the end of the previous school year, Mad-Eye Moody and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix made it clear to the Dursleys that Harry was to keep in touch with them to make sure he was not being mistreated in any way. The Dursleys, however infuriated that they had been given orders from the kind of people they disliked the most, were too afraid of what may happen to them to keep Harry from staying in touch with them.
Harry rubbed his eyes and slowly got out of bed, and made his way down to the kitchen. He had had that dream again last night, the one about Sirius, he was sure of it. Uncle Vernon was reading the paper, Aunt Petunia was making coffee, and Dudley was in the next room watching the TV.
"I'm calling them now." Harry announced to his aunt and uncle. Uncle Vernon merely eyes Harry from over the top of the newspaper, and Aunt Petunia did not even bother to acknowledge Harry at all. The Dursleys's way of dealing with Harry was quite simple: they ignored him in every way possible without it seeming to the Order that Harry was being mistreated. He was an unwelcome guest in the house, and they only put up with him for the couple of summer months because of the pact that Aunt Petunia made when she took in Harry all those years ago.
Harry picked up the phone and dialed the number. Mrs. Weasley answered on the other line.
"Hello Harry!" Mrs. Weasley answered in her kind voice. "How are you feeling, dear? Are they treating you alright?" Harry was glad that Mrs. Weasley knew how to use a telephone. He remembered the one time when Ron had called the Dursleys and screamed over the phone, wanting to talk to Harry. Uncle Vernon was not too happy about that one.
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, I'm fine, really. I'm alright." Harry replied halfheartedly. Mrs. Weasley had always acted as though Harry was just another member of the family. One could say that he was another son to her, and Mrs. Weasley in turn was a sort of mother figure to Harry.
"Well, I just thought that I would just say hello and to say I was fine and that there was no need for anyone to come over here." Harry replied dully. He really was not in the mood to talk to anyone, but he knew he had to do this if he did not want a big scene with his aunt and uncle if the Order turned up in their driveway.
"Well, alright dear. And we will come and get you out of there soon, we promise. Just hold on, dear."
And with that Mrs. Weasley hung up the phone with a 'click'. Harry put the phone back and went back up to his bedroom and sat on his bed, looking out his window.
Up in the clear sky he saw the outline of some sort of flying object. Harry hoped that it was not another one of Mr. Weasley's enchanted Muggle cars, remembering his second year when his best friend, Ron, and he drove to Hogwarts when the house-elf, Dobby, had sealed the barrier to the Hogwarts Express at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
But Harry soon saw that, to his great relief, it was not a bewitched car. Indeed, as it came closer, he saw that it was an owl, and it looked as if it was coming straight towards Harry. Harry leapt off his bed and hurried to the window, sticking out his hand for the owl to land on. The owl did indeed come to Harry, and he brought the owl back into his room.
Harry saw the owl was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. Harry had a thought.
"Are these my O.W.L.'s?" he asked excitedly. But the owl merely gave a hoot and flew back out the window and into the sky.
Harry took a long, hard look at the letter, and then carefully opened it, and out came two pieces of parchment.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
Enclosed you will fine your fifth year O.W.L. exam results. Also included is your sixth year list of necessary books and equipment. Term begins September 1.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
Harry then turned to the second piece of parchment:
O.W.L. results for Harry Potter
Harry briefly scanned over his results, relieved at what he saw written.
History of Magic: A Transfiguration: E Defense Against the Dark Arts: O Charms: E Herbology: O Care of Magical Creatures: O Astronomy: A Divination: P Potions: O
"An 'O' for Potions? No way!" Harry exclaimed happily, not caring whether or not someone heard him. He simply could not believe that he had not only passes potions, he had gotten an 'O' at that. He was also relieved because he thought that his downfall in his Potions O.W.L. would crush his attempts for a career as an auror.
Overall, Harry was very pleased with his results; he had not expected to receive some of the grades he did. He stopped for a moment and thought of Ron and Hermione. Hermione had probably received all 'O's for her O.W.L.'s, and Ron had probably had received much similar grades as Harry did. Harry was beginning to become anxious to get out the Dursley household, and he wondered the Weasleys would come and get him.
He went over to his supplies and took out his quill, ink bottle, and some parchment. He wanted to know how much longer he would have to stay here. He dipped his quill inside the ink bottle, chewed on the tip for a moment, and started to write.
"Dear Ron and Hermione if you're there,
When will you come and get me out of here? This place is miserable and the aunt and uncle aren't making things any better. They're afraid that you are going to show up any minute now on their doorway and turn them all into toads (which I wouldn't mind myself) have you gotten your O.W.L. results yet? Can you believe that I actually passed Potions? Someone had to have told Snape though not to fail me on purpose. Hope your summer is well. Come get me out of here!
Harry"
Harry sealed the letter and went over to Hedwig's cage.
"Are you up to taking this to Ron for me?" he asked her.
She gave a reassuring hoot and stuck out her leg for Harry to tie the letter to. He opened up the cage, tied the letter on, and watched her fly out the window into the sky. Oh, how he wouldn't love just to hop on the back of his Firebolt and fly away in the sky, away from the world and the troubles in it.
Harry Potter, of number four Privet Drive, awoke with a start. He had had the same all too familiar dream again; he saw the flash of red light, and his godfather, Sirius, fall through the archway and not return. Harry hated having to relive Sirius's death over and over again every night, and he dreaded falling asleep because of it.
Harry rolled over on his bed and reached for his glasses. It was past midnight, and he was now sixteen years old. But he did not care.
"Who cares if it's my birthday anyway? I've no one to celebrate with anyway."
Harry was still too over come with grief over the loss of Sirius to hear his owl, Hedwig, hoot reproachfully, or to think of his friends Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid. The only things that had been on his mind since the end of the last school year was Sirius and the guilty conscience he had carried with him ever since Sirius's death. He knew quite well that Lord Voldemort had lured him into the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic letting Harry believe that Sirius was being tortured. And he knew that if he never would have gone in the firs place, getting himself and his friends into the trouble that Sirius had come to save them from, Sirius would never have died and Harry would still have his godfather.
Harry took off his glasses and laid them back on the table beside his bed. He could hear Uncle Vernon's dreadful snoring, and his cousin Dudley's snores that seemed to shake the entire house. Harry thought of Hogwarts, and looked at the calendar that showed how many more miserable days he would have to spend at the Dursley's before he went back. He remembered how the Weasleys and Hermione had promised to get Harry out of there during the summer, and the thought gave him and sliver of hope.
He longingly thought of the castle, with the Great Hall and the many stairways and corridors. He thought of classes, from Care of Magical Creatures with his favorite teacher, Hagrid, to his least favorite class, Potions, with his least favorite teacher, Professor Snape. He thought of Hogsmeade trips, of having a butterbear in the Three Broomsticks with Ron and Hermione. He thought of Quidditch, which he had been banned from last year by Professor Umbridge. But now that she was gone, he hoped that he would be able to play again. He thought that Professor Dumbledore would probably let him play again. Professor Dumbledore.
Professor Dumbledore.Harry could still remember what he had told him at the end of the previous school year. Even thinking of him made Harry feel angry. Professor Dumbledore had finally sat Harry down and explained to him what Harry had been asking himself for years. He could not so easily forget what Dumbledore had told him. Of how either Harry or Lord Voldemort would eventually kill the other. Of how Harry alone had the power to destroy Voldemort forever, This so called prophecy, encountered at the Department of Mysteries, had left Harry feeling alone and isolated in the magical world; no one else that he knew of carried around a prophecy that they might be the one who could destroy Lord Voldemort for good. Yet thinking of Dumbledore also made Harry feel content and safe. Not only was he the only person that Lord Voldemort feared, he was the person who always believed Harry when no one else would.
Harry knew what he would do. In the morning he would send an owl to Sirius; he could always talk to him about anything. But suddenly he remembered: Sirius was dead and he was not coming back.
Harry closed his eyes, hoping that he did not have that dream again, and wishing that he could give up all the gold in his Gringott's vault to bring Sirius back. But he knew that was impossible. A moment later he had fallen asleep again.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Harry!! Harry!! Get up at once and get down here and call those wretched.people. Now!!"
Harry still had not gotten used to the fact of being expected to use the telephone so much. The Dursleys usually did all that they could to make sure that Harry was as isolated from the magical world and the people in it as was possible. But at the end of the previous school year, Mad-Eye Moody and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix made it clear to the Dursleys that Harry was to keep in touch with them to make sure he was not being mistreated in any way. The Dursleys, however infuriated that they had been given orders from the kind of people they disliked the most, were too afraid of what may happen to them to keep Harry from staying in touch with them.
Harry rubbed his eyes and slowly got out of bed, and made his way down to the kitchen. He had had that dream again last night, the one about Sirius, he was sure of it. Uncle Vernon was reading the paper, Aunt Petunia was making coffee, and Dudley was in the next room watching the TV.
"I'm calling them now." Harry announced to his aunt and uncle. Uncle Vernon merely eyes Harry from over the top of the newspaper, and Aunt Petunia did not even bother to acknowledge Harry at all. The Dursleys's way of dealing with Harry was quite simple: they ignored him in every way possible without it seeming to the Order that Harry was being mistreated. He was an unwelcome guest in the house, and they only put up with him for the couple of summer months because of the pact that Aunt Petunia made when she took in Harry all those years ago.
Harry picked up the phone and dialed the number. Mrs. Weasley answered on the other line.
"Hello Harry!" Mrs. Weasley answered in her kind voice. "How are you feeling, dear? Are they treating you alright?" Harry was glad that Mrs. Weasley knew how to use a telephone. He remembered the one time when Ron had called the Dursleys and screamed over the phone, wanting to talk to Harry. Uncle Vernon was not too happy about that one.
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, I'm fine, really. I'm alright." Harry replied halfheartedly. Mrs. Weasley had always acted as though Harry was just another member of the family. One could say that he was another son to her, and Mrs. Weasley in turn was a sort of mother figure to Harry.
"Well, I just thought that I would just say hello and to say I was fine and that there was no need for anyone to come over here." Harry replied dully. He really was not in the mood to talk to anyone, but he knew he had to do this if he did not want a big scene with his aunt and uncle if the Order turned up in their driveway.
"Well, alright dear. And we will come and get you out of there soon, we promise. Just hold on, dear."
And with that Mrs. Weasley hung up the phone with a 'click'. Harry put the phone back and went back up to his bedroom and sat on his bed, looking out his window.
Up in the clear sky he saw the outline of some sort of flying object. Harry hoped that it was not another one of Mr. Weasley's enchanted Muggle cars, remembering his second year when his best friend, Ron, and he drove to Hogwarts when the house-elf, Dobby, had sealed the barrier to the Hogwarts Express at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
But Harry soon saw that, to his great relief, it was not a bewitched car. Indeed, as it came closer, he saw that it was an owl, and it looked as if it was coming straight towards Harry. Harry leapt off his bed and hurried to the window, sticking out his hand for the owl to land on. The owl did indeed come to Harry, and he brought the owl back into his room.
Harry saw the owl was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. Harry had a thought.
"Are these my O.W.L.'s?" he asked excitedly. But the owl merely gave a hoot and flew back out the window and into the sky.
Harry took a long, hard look at the letter, and then carefully opened it, and out came two pieces of parchment.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
Enclosed you will fine your fifth year O.W.L. exam results. Also included is your sixth year list of necessary books and equipment. Term begins September 1.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
Harry then turned to the second piece of parchment:
O.W.L. results for Harry Potter
Harry briefly scanned over his results, relieved at what he saw written.
History of Magic: A Transfiguration: E Defense Against the Dark Arts: O Charms: E Herbology: O Care of Magical Creatures: O Astronomy: A Divination: P Potions: O
"An 'O' for Potions? No way!" Harry exclaimed happily, not caring whether or not someone heard him. He simply could not believe that he had not only passes potions, he had gotten an 'O' at that. He was also relieved because he thought that his downfall in his Potions O.W.L. would crush his attempts for a career as an auror.
Overall, Harry was very pleased with his results; he had not expected to receive some of the grades he did. He stopped for a moment and thought of Ron and Hermione. Hermione had probably received all 'O's for her O.W.L.'s, and Ron had probably had received much similar grades as Harry did. Harry was beginning to become anxious to get out the Dursley household, and he wondered the Weasleys would come and get him.
He went over to his supplies and took out his quill, ink bottle, and some parchment. He wanted to know how much longer he would have to stay here. He dipped his quill inside the ink bottle, chewed on the tip for a moment, and started to write.
"Dear Ron and Hermione if you're there,
When will you come and get me out of here? This place is miserable and the aunt and uncle aren't making things any better. They're afraid that you are going to show up any minute now on their doorway and turn them all into toads (which I wouldn't mind myself) have you gotten your O.W.L. results yet? Can you believe that I actually passed Potions? Someone had to have told Snape though not to fail me on purpose. Hope your summer is well. Come get me out of here!
Harry"
Harry sealed the letter and went over to Hedwig's cage.
"Are you up to taking this to Ron for me?" he asked her.
She gave a reassuring hoot and stuck out her leg for Harry to tie the letter to. He opened up the cage, tied the letter on, and watched her fly out the window into the sky. Oh, how he wouldn't love just to hop on the back of his Firebolt and fly away in the sky, away from the world and the troubles in it.