Chapter 1: Talking to the Dursleys
The shadows on the ceiling shifted, and a soft hoot met his ears as Harry Potter grinned to himself, waking up to the morning sunlight. There usually wasn't much to smile about while he was a resident on Privet Drive, but today, he had good reason to smile.
Today, he was seventeen. Today, he was no longer an underage wizard. Today, if he wanted, he could hex Dudley Dursley all he wanted.
Well, technically, he couldn't hex Dudley, thanks to protections for Muggles. That still didn't mean he couldn't give the Dursleys the fright of their lives this morning.
He reached out for his glasses and pushed them onto his face. This, in all honesty had probably been the best summer he'd ever had at the Dursleys, thanks to the renewed threats of Mad-Eye Moody to Uncle Vernon when he'd gotten off the Hogwarts express. Adding that to the fact that he spent as much time at Mrs. Figg's house as possible, chatting with Mundungus Fletcher or Tonks, whoever happened to be there at the moment.
It was too bad it was the full moon today, really, because he would have liked to have seen Professor Lupin. Lupin, who would be a wolf later this evening. He never really thought that he would be grateful to Snape for anything, but since Snape brewed Lupin's Wolfsbane Potion, Harry was grateful to see his friend spared anymore pain than he was already going through.
Harry had only seen Lupin occasionally that last year since—he forced himself to think it—since Sirius had died. The fact that he was the only Marauder, the only true Marauder left, seemed to be with Lupin all the time, and his hair had gone gray in only a few months.
He heard a thud out in the hallway, and knew his Aunt Petunia was up. A sharp knock on his door was followed by, "Get up, Harry, it's seven-thirty all ready."
"I'm coming," he answered, pulling himself out of the bed, briefly reflecting on the fact that she was actually calling him by his name this summer, rather than "boy." It was a nice change, and he reminded himself to thank Mad-Eye Moody the next time he saw the Auror.
He sighed to himself at the same time, too. Seventeen years old. He'd been thinking about this day for a long time. The war was raging outside, and yet on Privet Drive, no one, with the exception of Arabella Figg, seemed to know or care.
The Dursleys were going to find out today. Everything. And today, they had no choice but to listen.
Pulling on his jeans, an old pair of Bill Weasley's that none of the other Weasleys could fit into, he quickly pulled the Chudley Cannons shirt that Ron had given him for Christmas over his head. It didn't have any obvious wizarding marks on it, except for the fact that it magically fit the wearer perfectly, so he felt comfortable wearing it. No one on Privet Drive spoke to him away, thinking that he went to a school for the criminally insane, after all.
Running his hand through his hair, standing it up on end, he gathered up some parchment, quill and ink, and his potions textbook. Even during a war, Snape managed to find time to assign nasty essays for his N.E.W.T. Potions class over the summer. That was where having wizarding friends came in handy. Even Arabella knew a good deal about Potions, despite being a Squib. Last, he grabbed his wand, sticking it into his back pocket, despite Moody's warnings about wizards losing buttocks that way.
He walked down the stairs, hopping to one side as Dudley came hurtling down past him. Dudley had finally started growing upwards instead of outwards, and had the build of a professional rugby player. Harry wasn't sure why Dudley had such energy on a Saturday morning, then remembered that Uncle Vernon was taking him to see a football game that day.
Harry wondered if they would be going after he told them what he had to say.
"Good morning, Aunt Petunia," he said, setting his things down on the counter. She glanced over at him, and her face twisted up.
"Take that stuff back upstairs, right now," she said. "None of your nonsense down here. Then come back. I want you to start peeling the potatoes for the hash browns this morning."
"My stuff needs to stay here," Harry said shortly, pulling his wand. "And as for the potatoes, my pleasure." The potatoes suddenly jumped and began peeling themselves.
"What—what?" Uncle Vernon sputtered as he entered the kitchen with Dudley. "Up-upstairs, right now, boy! And take that ruddy wand with you!"
Dudley smirked. "You're going to get expelled from school!"
Harry grinned back at his cousin, and Dudley took a step back. "Not likely. Never mind that none of you remembered, but today was my birthday, and I'm not under-age anymore. I can use magic anytime I want."
Uncle Vernon's face was completely red, now, at the mention of the m-word. "Boy!"
Harry raised a hand. "Uncle Vernon, sit down. I've got something to tell you all."
Aunt Petunia straightened from her place by the sink where she had been covering her shriek of surprise when the potatoes had begun to peel themselves. "What could you possibly have to tell us?"
Harry sighed. "A lot." With a flick of his wand, three of the chairs at the table scooted themselves out. "Go on, sit down. I'm not going to hurt you."
They sat down, too startled to do anything else. "But—but what about my football game," Dudley stuttered. "We've got to leave soon—"
"Hush, Dudley," Harry said quietly, but firmly. "Unless you'd really like me to finish the job that Hagrid started all those years ago."
Dudley shook his head mutely.
"Well, go on, then," Uncle Vernon said. "What did you have to tell us?"
Harry reached down into his pocket and pulled out three coins. Hermione had enchanted them for him. He handed one to each of them. "The wizarding world is in the middle of a war."
"A war?" Dudley said. Aunt Petunia suddenly glared at her only son, and Harry was surprised to see her do so.
"Go on, Harry," she said quietly, staring at the coin in her hand.
Harry cleared his throat. "Well, the guy that killed my parents. Voldemort." He refused to add the title of "Lord" to Voldemort's name. "He's back."
Aunt Petunia let out a little shriek. Harry could feel her eyes on his scar.
He closed his eyes. "The wizarding world, they call me The Boy Who Lived. Mum saved me. She kept Voldemort from killing me."
"Why was this Voldemort character after you? He was after your parents because he was killing his enemies, but why you?" Uncle Vernon said, still spitting his words out, the whole idea of a wizarding war not frightening him like it should have.
Harry sighed. He hadn't intended to go into the prophecy that had been revealed, the prophecy he'd gone after and that had ended up getting Sirius killed. "There was a prophecy made by a Seer that said I would be an enemy to him, and one or the other of us would have to die for the other to live. Voldemort tried to kill me, but Mum got in front of me. It kept him from being able to kill me and it nearly killed him."
He looked up at his aunt, the only one of the Muggles seated around the table that would even remotely understand the seriousness of the situation. "The war was over, and Dumbledore brought me to you. When I started school, Voldemort began trying to return."
Dudley's glass shattered against the floor, and Harry stared at his cousin for a moment. Dudley and he were nearly the same age, yet he felt much, much older than his cousin. "Reparo," Harry muttered, and the glass flew back to it's original shape. Dudley's orange juice remained on the table and floor, and Harry banished the liquid to the sink. "First year, he killed unicorns to get their blood, so he could stay alive. Anyone who drinks unicorn blood lives a cursed life. Second year, he tried to kill Muggle-born wizards with a basilisk. My friend Hermione was in the medical wing for months, and he nearly killed Ron's sister, Ginny." Harry plunged past those memories of Hermione and Ginny, both unconscious. "Third year, my godfather escaped from Azkaban. He'd been there for twelve years, because they thought he'd betrayed my parents to Voldemort."
"Sirius Black?" Aunt Petunia said, her voice faint. "He came to the house once for her. Said that he had been hurt."
"Probably," Harry said. "Sirius said that Dad was always getting himself into scrapes, usually with Sirius' help. But Sirius hadn't betrayed them. One of their other so-called friends, had betrayed them. His name was Peter Pettigrew, and he had transformed himself into a rat. Ron's rat, in fact. Sirius came out to Hogwarts to kill him. He didn't. Peter went back to Voldemort."
"Fourth year," Harry began, and he felt his throat close up for a moment, because the terrible memories really started there. "I was one of the Hogwarts champions for the Triwizard tournament. The other champion was Cedric Diggory. During the last task of the tournament, Cedric and I were both pulled through a Portkey to where Voldemort was hiding. He killed Cedric right in front of me. He nearly killed me, too."
Dudley's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Then what happened?" he breathed, and Harry could tell that Dudley was listening to his as if it was some story out of a book.
"Voldemort came back that night," Harry said. "The same protection that Mum gave me, he has now. He took some of my blood, gave himself that protection. He used to not be able to touch me."
"Then fifth year—" Harry choked on his words. "Fifth year was the year that Sirius died."
The Dursleys were silent. All of them knew that the summer after Harry had come home, he locked himself in his room, without the Dursleys doing it for him. Dudley had left his cousin mercifully alone. "You remember when the dementors came after Dudley and I."
The fear that Aunt Petunia had felt for Dudley then was evident on her face once again. "What happened that night?"
"One of the members of the Ministry of Magic set them on me," Harry said quietly. "The Ministry is corrupt from inside out. She didn't realize that I could drive them away. You see, they hadn't come after me sooner, because I had wizards watching over me." He didn't explain about Mrs. Figg at the moment, knowing Arabella wanted to enjoy the shock on the Dursley's faces when that happened.
"That year, I found out about the prophecy, when Voldemort tried to steal it. Several wizards were killed trying to get to it," Harry said. "That's why Mum and Dad were killed, because of this prophecy, because Voldemort decided that I was a threat to him. It said that one of us had to die for the other to live."
"But, you're still here," Aunt Petunia said weakly.
"And so is Voldemort," Harry said. "The war's not over yet." He took a deep breath. "Last year, they started attacking Muggles."
Dudley shrieked, and knocked his glass over again. Uncle Vernon began sputtering incoherently, and for a moment, Harry thought Aunt Petunia was going to faint dead away.
"And they didn't only attack Muggles," Harry said. "They're attacking the families of those who are Muggle-born, as well as those wizarding families that support kind treatment of Muggles." He took a deep breath. "As well as Hogwarts."
"They attacked your school?" Dudley said, his voice quivering. Harry nodded.
"The entire school was in the battle," Harry said. "Even the first years." He closed his eyes, seeing the brilliant green light as Death Eaters shouted Avada Kedavra at children. Muggle-born children. Wizard children. It made no difference to them. Even Slytherin House hadn't been immune to the horrible attack. And then Lucius Malfoy had come after Ron and Hermione. Ron had been knocked out by a Stunning Spell, and Hermione had been desperately trying to mutter "Ennervate," without being seen. Harry had seen Malfoy, hadn't been able to get there in time, occupied with his own battle with Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had murdered Sirius.
"Hagrid, Malfoy!" he screamed towards the half-giant, who began lumbering towards the blond Death Eater. Harry ducked as Lestrange threw the Cruciatus at him again, falling to the ground and rolling. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted, and her wand flew away as he sprang to his feet, lurching forward to tackle her. He glanced back at Malfoy and Hagrid, Ron and Hermione. "Hagrid, look out!"
Ron's wand suddenly met Hagrid's huge hand, and Harry had never seen such anger in his friend's face before. Hagrid raised the wand, and Malfoy did the same, and they both uttered the same words, and Harry felt the ache in his heart before both were finished.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" both had shouted, and both had fallen, neither able to shield themselves from the Killing Curse at the same time. Harry watched as both Malfoy and Hagrid fell to the ground, the still, quiet, sudden peace that death had brought them.
Lestrange had brought him out of his sudden distraction, reaching for her wand, and Harry had pointed his own at her face.
Lestrange was in prison now, he remembered, and continued where he broke off. "Hagrid died, saving Ron and Hermione. He was the last person to die at Hogwarts, because Dumbledore, Dumbledore—" Harry paused. "I'm not sure what Dumbledore did, still. But they were gone. All the Death Eaters that weren't contained, and Voldemort. They were gone. Still alive, but not there."
He took a deep breath, and looked up to find his aunt and uncle's horrified faces fixed upon him. "You know why I'm still alive, Aunt Petunia."
She nodded silently, and so did Uncle Vernon, and Harry was glad that he could spare himself explaining that. The Howler Dumbledore had sent Aunt Petunia two years ago would remind them. "I brought you those coins for a reason. Hermione bewitched them for me. If something happens to me, they'll starting ringing like a cellular telephone."
He took another deep breath. "If that happens, you're in danger." He reached back down into his pocket, and brought out a small box. "This is Floo powder. You've seen me use it before."
The doorbell rang, and Harry grinned. Arabella, right on time. "Dudley, would you please go let Mrs. Figg in, and bring her to the kitchen?"
Dudley did what Harry asked, for once, without argument or complaint. "Your—your things," Aunt Petunia gasped, turning to make sure the potatoes were done.
Harry didn't move, waiting as Arabella swept into the room. "Good morning, Harry. Did I get here on time?"
"Just in time," Harry said, putting his wand back in his back pocket. She sighed.
"Don't do that, Harry, Moody is at the house and if he sees you, you know he'll start roaring about 'Constant Vigilance' again, and I've already heard enough from him this morning. Tonks and Lupin and Mundungus will let you get away with it, but please, for my sake, don't put your wand in your pocket."
She turned and began laughing as she saw the faces of the Dursley's. "You—you're a witch?" Aunt Petunia gasped, appalled that she'd been living down the street from such a woman.
"Oh, no, of course not," Arabella said, as Harry magicked a chair over for her. "I'm a Squib. My parents were wizards. Anyway, Harry, go on with whatever you were saying."
Harry gave her a grateful smile. "This is Floo powder. If something happens, you have to run to Arabella's house. There's a box of it sitting on her mantel. Build a fire, throw a pinch of this into it, and shout 'The Burrow' really loud. That'll take you to Ron's house, and you'll be safe there."
"I am not setting foot in a wizard's house!" Uncle Vernon bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Especially not the house of that madman Weasley!"
Arabella had suddenly risen to her feet. "Is that so, Dursley?" she shrieked right back at him. "Well, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named comes after you, then I'll make sure my doors are locked and you can't get to the Floo Network, and you'll just have to let him use the Killing Curse on you too! If you won't believe Harry, perhaps I should ask Alastor to come over here and explain it to you!"
"Not necessary," a gruff voice said from the side. Harry hadn't heard the slight 'pop' as Mad-Eye Apparated into the room. "Calm down, Arabella. Potter, if I catch you with that wand—" he didn't have to finish, as Harry swiftly removed it from his pocket. "Besides, Arabella, I think the great git has figured it out on his own."
Arabella managed to catch her breath and control her temper. "Anyway, Harry. I was planning to go to London today and see Remus. It's that time of the month, and I thought I'd take him a cake to cheer him up, and he can give you your birthday present."
Harry brightened at the thought of seeing Professor Lupin, but sunk as he thought of Grimmauld Place, with no Sirius there. "Now, come, Harry," Arabella said quietly. "You think it's bad, try being Remus, still living in that house without him. Besides, your studying can wait," she said, eyeing the parchment on the counter. She winked at him then. "And I hear that the Weasleys and Miss Granger will be there, and I think Tonks was coming into London today, too. Might be a regular birthday party for you."
"The Weasleys and Hermione?" he said, grinning. The house wouldn't seem so empty. Except that there would be no awful birthday cake from Hagrid this year. He pushed the thought out of his head. Today was a happy day.
"Even Percy is coming, the prat," Moody said. "I think he's finally gotten his head on straight, now."
"Well, if you hadn't tried to splinch it off the other day, I think that Percy would be more agreeable to your presence, Alastor," Arabella chastised. "Anyway, coming, Harry?"
"Sure," Harry said, standing. He Banished the schoolwork back to his room, and stuck his wand in his back pocket to a groan from Moody that he ignored. "Let's go."
***