Disclaimer: Own Harry Potter I do not.
The darkness spilled in from every single faucet of his mind, a determination to get on with the dark, horrid task that lay before him. As Harry James Potter stood in front of the front door of Number Four Privet Drive, the old grandfather clock began to chime.
1
Harry looked at his trunk, packed by muggle means and waiting to be shrunk and pocketed.
2
His father's old cloak lay folded atop it and the crumpled-up note written by Dumbledore so many years ago, the one that had come with the cloak was even now in Harry's pocket.
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He waved Hedwig back into her cage and gave her a stroke.
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The stack of papers that had arrived that very morning that were from a man who says he was Dumbledore's brother were in his pocket to be looked over when he got away from this horrid place.
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Harry's heart beat faster, his determination waned as he thought of the horrible journey ahead of him, that he alone would complete, that he alone must undertake without any help whatsoever from his mentor or his friends. He had no choice. Voldemort had to be stopped.
12.
Harry James Potter threw open the door to Privet Drive and closed his eyes, giving a roar to inspire himself. "It begins!"
This was made all the more embarrassing and out of place when he opened his eyes to find himself face to face with none other than Minerva McGonagall, and she was far from alone.