Chapter 1 - A Cagey Beginning
The people who lived in Privet Drive had, over the years, accepted that from time to time strange things happened where they lived. After all, it seemed these days that strange things happened all the time somewhere or another. They were simply getting their share. The fact that the frequency of such events in Privet Drive had increased gradually over the past ten years had generally escaped their notice in the way that one might overlook the movement of a cloud or the rising of the tide unless you really paid attention over a period of time.
For one boy who lived in Privet Drive many strange and wonderful things had been happening at a dizzying pace for the last year or so since he had discovered on his eleventh birthday that he was a wizard. This story is only partly about him - although it does start in Privet Drive at about the time that he returns for the summer after his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - as this story also concerns another. This story is about a completely different child whose family and friends have been taken away and enslaved by an evil magician. It recounts the remarkable adventures that this child has as he sets out on a quest to find and rescue those that he loves.
What does this have to do with Privet Drive and a boy with a lightning scar on his forehead? Read on and you will find out.
There was little concern at first from the residents of Privet Drive when unusual noises were heard in the dead of night. At the same time something was, on a nightly basis, emptying dustbins, leaving the contents strewn about back gardens.
It was not uncommon for bags of rubbish, if left out overnight, to be torn open by urban wildlife such as foxes, cats and stray dogs. This was not strange by any stretch of the imagination. It was however unusual for such creatures to take a large black wheelybin, tear off the lid, eat rather more of the contents than could strictly be described as food and then move on leaving footprints roughly the size of a large frying pan. Some residents tried placing bricks on the lids of their bins but this seemed to make little or no difference. More often than not the bricks themselves would disappear. Whatever was doing this was clearly larger than the largest fox.
Strange things happened more often in Privet Drive than most other normal places and this was a good example of one of them.
The owner of No 4 Privet Drive - a round man with beady eyes and a particular dislike of things that intruded on his well-ordered lifestyle - was particularly upset. Having lost several bricks, he fitted a lock to his wheelybin but found the next morning that the lock had been snapped. Or possibly, it looked like large teeth had bitten through the padlock. Of course, this only meant that the guilty party had used some sort of cutting tool such as a pair of bolt-croppers. It was however strange to say the least that someone should go to so much trouble on a rubbish bin which was full of, well, rubbish. Vernon Dursley put this down to the fact that there were strange folk about and to him anyone less ordinary than he was could only be put into one category: - strange.
Mr Dursley was determined not to be beaten by some mere urban vandal - oh no. Not when he owned a factory and therefore could make a steel cage (rather like the sort of cage that divers may use when wishing to annoy sharks without being eaten by them) to be placed around the bin locking it tightly and very securely. Mr Dursley's neighbours nodded encouragingly when they saw his new cage being delivered on the back of a lorry and lowered by crane into position in his back garden although in private they may have considered this approach a little heavy handed and a trifle eccentric.
The next evening Mr Dursley slept soundly. He may have been disturbed briefly during the night and had a vague recollection of a dull crunching noise, as if something large and metallic had landed some way into the woods that backed onto his rear garden. But when he awoke, it was confidently in the knowledge that his bin could not have been interfered with. In fact, he was correct. The bin was still in its cage. The cage however was no longer in Mr Dursley's back garden. It had travelled some distance and was now somewhat buckled and bent in a small clearing in the woods. Next to the cage was an untidy pile of rocks and an old oak tree that was now especially crooked having lost several branches when the cage had landed.
Mr Dursley, blissfully unaware of the new location of his cage (and bin), finished his breakfast humming to himself in a self-satisfied manner. Today he would make a special trip to the bin outside his back door just for the pleasure of knowing that no one gets the better of Vernon Dursley.
Carrying a bulbous black bag of rubbish, he opened the back door expecting to see his new cage with the wheelybin securely inside.
He was not expecting to find the back garden to be short of both of these items and he stopped mid hum. His smug face was transformed into a scowl of great intensity. He clenched his fists tightly and shook them in rage. The bag of rubbish split and spewed its contents about his feet.
Normally Vernon Dursley's first instinct when such things occurred would be to find his nephew, Harry Potter, and punish him. Lack of proof or even logical explanation had not mattered in the past when inexplicable happenings had happened. As Harry had grown from the baby left on Mr Dursley's doorstep to an eleven year old boy all manner of mysterious things had happened which defied explanation. The child's hair for one thing was untameable and the scar on the boy's forehead was a constant reminder that Harry was not normal - by a long way. It seemed that, when Harry was around, things were unpredictable.
Vernon Dursley disliked unpredictability. He liked order without fuss or surprises. He recognised that having two children in his house would of course introduce a certain amount of disorder. Children were prone to be excitable but, in the case of his son Dudley, as long as the dear boy was well looked after and treated occasionally with presents, plenty of loving attention and mountains of good wholesome food he tended to be more or less predictable and orderly.
Harry on the other hand was less easily dealt with. The way that they had generously taken the orphaned baby Harry into their home did not seem adequate to ensure that Harry remained cowed and obedient. This in turn lead to just a little frustration on Mr Dursley's part.
Mysterious events generally could not be proven to be the work of Harry or indeed anything to do with Harry but somehow Mr Dursley knew. He just knew. Harry would always protest complete innocence in such a convincing manner that you would almost believe him. But Mr Dursley knew a thing or two about Harry and more importantly about Harry's mother who had been a witch and his father who had been a wizard.
In fact, Harry had been delivered to the Dursleys after his parents had been murdered and unbeknown to Harry certain magical protections had been placed around privet drive to save Harry from a similar fate.
Harry had not known of his magical parentage and Mr Dursley had done his best to keep it that way until Harry had received a letter accepting him to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on his eleventh birthday. Before this, Harry had no idea that he was in fact a wizard. That was a year ago and since then Harry had been catapulted into a world of magic (both good and bad) and had been introduced to magical places and people both young and old during many adventures in his first year at Hogwarts.
One of the most important of Harry's new acquaintances was the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. He was a wise and kindhearted old Wizard who was notable, among many other things, for his tendency to see good in those where others could not. It was Dumbledore who had many years ago insisted that one of Hogwarts' pupils - an exceedingly large boy called Hagrid - be allowed to stay at the school as groundsman after he had been expelled for rearing a dangerous animal inside the school.
It was Hagrid who had delivered Harry's Letter of Acceptance at Hogwarts in person (much against the wishes of Mr Dursley) and the two had become firm friends.
Harry had also become very good friends with two of the first year pupils at Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione had been through a lot with Harry including a hairy incident when they knocked out a fully grown mountain troll who had made his way into the school.
Thankfully for Harry the sudden flight of Mr Dursley's wheelybin cage had occurred a few days before his return from Hogwarts which left Mr Dursley in the unhappy position of having no obvious person on hand to blame. However, the noises at night, footprints, and so on had started only a couple of weeks before Harry's return so the whole infuriating conundrum could be considered to be linked to that boy. So, there was definitely justification for giving Harry the firmest possible talking to that included much ear twisting and speaking in menacing tones through gritted teeth.
When Harry arrived Uncle Vernon wasted no time.
'Let us get one thing absolutely straight boy,' said Uncle Vernon, 'I am going to hold you personally responsible for any further funny business regarding anything in my garden. Is that clear?'
Harry of course found this strange advice very unclear but he agreed, 'of course Uncle, I'll do my best not to touch any of the things in your garden.'
He was more than happy to make such a promise because the many chores that Harry was required to do on a regular basis included mowing, sweeping up and weeding in the garden.
Against Uncle Vernon's better judgement, there was no outright punishment for Harry. This was because Harry was now in possession of wizarding skills and a number of magical tools including a wand, a broomstick and most annoyingly an owl. Hedwig was Harry's owl given to him by Hagrid. It was kept in a cage in Harry's bedroom and could be used by Harry to exchange messages with his new school friends who were also now on holiday at their homes throughout the country.
Mr Dursley's previous encounter with Hagrid, who had been delivering Harry's letter of acceptance to the school, had left a distinct impression that these people were not to be messed with (and it had left his beloved son, Dudley, with a curly pink tail). Harry could contact his new friends at will. If Uncle Vernon was too harsh there may be trouble in the form of a very large and hairy groundsman.
Mr Dursley had stopped on the way back from collecting Harry at Kings Cross Station to purchase a new wheelybin which he intended to lock in the garage from now on. After the discussion between Harry and Mr Dursley on the subject, they were both left with a clear understanding that things would not go well for Harry if unfortunate things continued to happen to Mr Dursley's wheelybin. But it was left at that for now.
In fact Harry was glad of the distraction. His return from Hogwarts to the confines of Privet Drive was a sad occasion. He had never had any friends in Privet Drive. His cousin Dudley used to take the greatest pleasure in making Harry's life a misery and ensuring that others at very least kept their distance.
While Dudley was now somewhat less annoying towards Harry since receiving his magical tail he was still definitely not likely to offer any companionship. Furthermore, compared to the new world of wizards and magic, there was normally little to say about Privet Drive that could possibly be of interest. Harry was therefore pleased and surprised to find a mystery on his own doorstep that, while not likely to lead to any real adventure, was not easily explained. And things that could not be easily explained in the boring muggle (non-magic) world may well have something to do with his very interesting world of magic, spells, mythical beasts and so on. So, after settling himself into his new room, Harry set about solving the mystery of the bins.
Information was scarce. Harry started his search for clues in the back garden of No.4 from where the cage had disappeared. It had been a particularly dry summer so although there were a few largish footprints it was not possible to tell for sure what unusual creature had been visiting. However, the fences and hedges between the gardens of Privet Drive did look somewhat ragged. As Harry looked down the row of hedges on the first Sunday after his return from school he noticed there were several middle aged gentlemen either trying to straighten a bedraggled bushes with pruning shears or repairing damaged wooden fences. Clicketty-click-clicking of shears and ra-ta-tat hammering noises filled the air.
The gentlemen who were busy in their gardens were oblivious of each other or at least were blissfully unaware of the slightly odd scene they made. Of course (they would each think to themselves) it is only to be expected that on a fine summer day an English gentleman will be in his garden attending to his borders and boundaries.
Harry approached a few of his neighbours but they were not able to tell him very much. The loud noises in the dead of night had attracted attention. Residents were often quick to wake and peer out of their windows but invariably the culprit was gone and all that was left was lawn, rockeries, shrubs, rubbish and an upturned wheelybin.
Dudley had explained to Harry over his midmorning snack while Harry was washing the kitchen windows that no one had seen hide nor hair of the bin- tipper. Indeed some had searched the trees and rocks of the forest to the rear of the gardens but had found nothing but trees and rocks. The cage was still where it had been found in the woods and Dudley described its whereabouts to Harry.
'Its about a hundred metres into the woods next to a crooked oak tree.'
Of course Harry understood that Dudley was only being helpful because he hoped that Harry would come to some harm trying to track down the bin- tipper but Harry didn't mind. At least he would be well away from Dudley who would no doubt be too scared to set foot in the woods.
After Sunday lunch, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were snoozing like a pair of overfed hogs and Dudley was staring gormlessly at the TV. Harry finished washing the dishes and set out into the woods to hunt for clues. The woods were in fact particularly pleasant and very different to the forbidden forest that surrounded Hogwarts. On this day everything appeared to be perfectly normal. Harry was startled on occasion by a pheasant taking off or a rabbit bolting for its hole but in the main, everything was normal.
Harry knew the woods well as he had spent many hours there during his childhood avoiding Dudley. He headed straight for the crooked oak tree which was by a small clearing next to a stream. The cage and the slightly smelly wheelybin were still there and it was clear that they had hit the ground with considerable force. Looking up Harry could see where the branches of trees had been broken as the cage had landed and the bars of the underside of the cage were firmly embedded in the ground. Harry decided to test the strength of the bars by hitting them with a rock. He tried to dislodge a rock from a nearby outcrop but it seemed that the harder he tried to move the rock the more firmly it became joined to the rest of the rocks. Eventually he gave up and instead sat on the rocky outcrop considering the cage.
Certainly, it would not be possible for any of the usual animals found in these woods to have moved the cage. Indeed, it was hard to imagine or guess how the cage could possibly have been removed from the back garden of No.4 Privet Drive and sent high in the air landing so far away. Harry had encountered many unusual and magical creatures during his first year at Hogwarts including dragons, trolls and centaurs but such creatures dwelt in out of the way places and knew better than to go where people lived.
Harry reflected happily for a while on the events of the past year. He noticed suddenly that his hand was resting in something sticky which appeared to be oozing out of the side of the rocks. He observed this for a moment, sniffed it and then wiped his hand on the grass. He then picked himself up and headed back to the Dursleys.
Hands in pockets and taking in the late afternoon sunlight beaming through the canopy he left the clearing casting only the briefest of glances back towards the cage by the rocky outcrop.
The day wore on and as the sun set in the west the shaft of sunlight shining through the hole in the canopy passed over the mound of rocks and faded with the approach of evening.
The mound of rocks shivered.
The particular rock that the boy had been trying to prize loose unclenched three hard rock fingers. The hand reclenched itself and waited for darkness.
The people who lived in Privet Drive had, over the years, accepted that from time to time strange things happened where they lived. After all, it seemed these days that strange things happened all the time somewhere or another. They were simply getting their share. The fact that the frequency of such events in Privet Drive had increased gradually over the past ten years had generally escaped their notice in the way that one might overlook the movement of a cloud or the rising of the tide unless you really paid attention over a period of time.
For one boy who lived in Privet Drive many strange and wonderful things had been happening at a dizzying pace for the last year or so since he had discovered on his eleventh birthday that he was a wizard. This story is only partly about him - although it does start in Privet Drive at about the time that he returns for the summer after his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - as this story also concerns another. This story is about a completely different child whose family and friends have been taken away and enslaved by an evil magician. It recounts the remarkable adventures that this child has as he sets out on a quest to find and rescue those that he loves.
What does this have to do with Privet Drive and a boy with a lightning scar on his forehead? Read on and you will find out.
There was little concern at first from the residents of Privet Drive when unusual noises were heard in the dead of night. At the same time something was, on a nightly basis, emptying dustbins, leaving the contents strewn about back gardens.
It was not uncommon for bags of rubbish, if left out overnight, to be torn open by urban wildlife such as foxes, cats and stray dogs. This was not strange by any stretch of the imagination. It was however unusual for such creatures to take a large black wheelybin, tear off the lid, eat rather more of the contents than could strictly be described as food and then move on leaving footprints roughly the size of a large frying pan. Some residents tried placing bricks on the lids of their bins but this seemed to make little or no difference. More often than not the bricks themselves would disappear. Whatever was doing this was clearly larger than the largest fox.
Strange things happened more often in Privet Drive than most other normal places and this was a good example of one of them.
The owner of No 4 Privet Drive - a round man with beady eyes and a particular dislike of things that intruded on his well-ordered lifestyle - was particularly upset. Having lost several bricks, he fitted a lock to his wheelybin but found the next morning that the lock had been snapped. Or possibly, it looked like large teeth had bitten through the padlock. Of course, this only meant that the guilty party had used some sort of cutting tool such as a pair of bolt-croppers. It was however strange to say the least that someone should go to so much trouble on a rubbish bin which was full of, well, rubbish. Vernon Dursley put this down to the fact that there were strange folk about and to him anyone less ordinary than he was could only be put into one category: - strange.
Mr Dursley was determined not to be beaten by some mere urban vandal - oh no. Not when he owned a factory and therefore could make a steel cage (rather like the sort of cage that divers may use when wishing to annoy sharks without being eaten by them) to be placed around the bin locking it tightly and very securely. Mr Dursley's neighbours nodded encouragingly when they saw his new cage being delivered on the back of a lorry and lowered by crane into position in his back garden although in private they may have considered this approach a little heavy handed and a trifle eccentric.
The next evening Mr Dursley slept soundly. He may have been disturbed briefly during the night and had a vague recollection of a dull crunching noise, as if something large and metallic had landed some way into the woods that backed onto his rear garden. But when he awoke, it was confidently in the knowledge that his bin could not have been interfered with. In fact, he was correct. The bin was still in its cage. The cage however was no longer in Mr Dursley's back garden. It had travelled some distance and was now somewhat buckled and bent in a small clearing in the woods. Next to the cage was an untidy pile of rocks and an old oak tree that was now especially crooked having lost several branches when the cage had landed.
Mr Dursley, blissfully unaware of the new location of his cage (and bin), finished his breakfast humming to himself in a self-satisfied manner. Today he would make a special trip to the bin outside his back door just for the pleasure of knowing that no one gets the better of Vernon Dursley.
Carrying a bulbous black bag of rubbish, he opened the back door expecting to see his new cage with the wheelybin securely inside.
He was not expecting to find the back garden to be short of both of these items and he stopped mid hum. His smug face was transformed into a scowl of great intensity. He clenched his fists tightly and shook them in rage. The bag of rubbish split and spewed its contents about his feet.
Normally Vernon Dursley's first instinct when such things occurred would be to find his nephew, Harry Potter, and punish him. Lack of proof or even logical explanation had not mattered in the past when inexplicable happenings had happened. As Harry had grown from the baby left on Mr Dursley's doorstep to an eleven year old boy all manner of mysterious things had happened which defied explanation. The child's hair for one thing was untameable and the scar on the boy's forehead was a constant reminder that Harry was not normal - by a long way. It seemed that, when Harry was around, things were unpredictable.
Vernon Dursley disliked unpredictability. He liked order without fuss or surprises. He recognised that having two children in his house would of course introduce a certain amount of disorder. Children were prone to be excitable but, in the case of his son Dudley, as long as the dear boy was well looked after and treated occasionally with presents, plenty of loving attention and mountains of good wholesome food he tended to be more or less predictable and orderly.
Harry on the other hand was less easily dealt with. The way that they had generously taken the orphaned baby Harry into their home did not seem adequate to ensure that Harry remained cowed and obedient. This in turn lead to just a little frustration on Mr Dursley's part.
Mysterious events generally could not be proven to be the work of Harry or indeed anything to do with Harry but somehow Mr Dursley knew. He just knew. Harry would always protest complete innocence in such a convincing manner that you would almost believe him. But Mr Dursley knew a thing or two about Harry and more importantly about Harry's mother who had been a witch and his father who had been a wizard.
In fact, Harry had been delivered to the Dursleys after his parents had been murdered and unbeknown to Harry certain magical protections had been placed around privet drive to save Harry from a similar fate.
Harry had not known of his magical parentage and Mr Dursley had done his best to keep it that way until Harry had received a letter accepting him to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on his eleventh birthday. Before this, Harry had no idea that he was in fact a wizard. That was a year ago and since then Harry had been catapulted into a world of magic (both good and bad) and had been introduced to magical places and people both young and old during many adventures in his first year at Hogwarts.
One of the most important of Harry's new acquaintances was the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. He was a wise and kindhearted old Wizard who was notable, among many other things, for his tendency to see good in those where others could not. It was Dumbledore who had many years ago insisted that one of Hogwarts' pupils - an exceedingly large boy called Hagrid - be allowed to stay at the school as groundsman after he had been expelled for rearing a dangerous animal inside the school.
It was Hagrid who had delivered Harry's Letter of Acceptance at Hogwarts in person (much against the wishes of Mr Dursley) and the two had become firm friends.
Harry had also become very good friends with two of the first year pupils at Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione had been through a lot with Harry including a hairy incident when they knocked out a fully grown mountain troll who had made his way into the school.
Thankfully for Harry the sudden flight of Mr Dursley's wheelybin cage had occurred a few days before his return from Hogwarts which left Mr Dursley in the unhappy position of having no obvious person on hand to blame. However, the noises at night, footprints, and so on had started only a couple of weeks before Harry's return so the whole infuriating conundrum could be considered to be linked to that boy. So, there was definitely justification for giving Harry the firmest possible talking to that included much ear twisting and speaking in menacing tones through gritted teeth.
When Harry arrived Uncle Vernon wasted no time.
'Let us get one thing absolutely straight boy,' said Uncle Vernon, 'I am going to hold you personally responsible for any further funny business regarding anything in my garden. Is that clear?'
Harry of course found this strange advice very unclear but he agreed, 'of course Uncle, I'll do my best not to touch any of the things in your garden.'
He was more than happy to make such a promise because the many chores that Harry was required to do on a regular basis included mowing, sweeping up and weeding in the garden.
Against Uncle Vernon's better judgement, there was no outright punishment for Harry. This was because Harry was now in possession of wizarding skills and a number of magical tools including a wand, a broomstick and most annoyingly an owl. Hedwig was Harry's owl given to him by Hagrid. It was kept in a cage in Harry's bedroom and could be used by Harry to exchange messages with his new school friends who were also now on holiday at their homes throughout the country.
Mr Dursley's previous encounter with Hagrid, who had been delivering Harry's letter of acceptance to the school, had left a distinct impression that these people were not to be messed with (and it had left his beloved son, Dudley, with a curly pink tail). Harry could contact his new friends at will. If Uncle Vernon was too harsh there may be trouble in the form of a very large and hairy groundsman.
Mr Dursley had stopped on the way back from collecting Harry at Kings Cross Station to purchase a new wheelybin which he intended to lock in the garage from now on. After the discussion between Harry and Mr Dursley on the subject, they were both left with a clear understanding that things would not go well for Harry if unfortunate things continued to happen to Mr Dursley's wheelybin. But it was left at that for now.
In fact Harry was glad of the distraction. His return from Hogwarts to the confines of Privet Drive was a sad occasion. He had never had any friends in Privet Drive. His cousin Dudley used to take the greatest pleasure in making Harry's life a misery and ensuring that others at very least kept their distance.
While Dudley was now somewhat less annoying towards Harry since receiving his magical tail he was still definitely not likely to offer any companionship. Furthermore, compared to the new world of wizards and magic, there was normally little to say about Privet Drive that could possibly be of interest. Harry was therefore pleased and surprised to find a mystery on his own doorstep that, while not likely to lead to any real adventure, was not easily explained. And things that could not be easily explained in the boring muggle (non-magic) world may well have something to do with his very interesting world of magic, spells, mythical beasts and so on. So, after settling himself into his new room, Harry set about solving the mystery of the bins.
Information was scarce. Harry started his search for clues in the back garden of No.4 from where the cage had disappeared. It had been a particularly dry summer so although there were a few largish footprints it was not possible to tell for sure what unusual creature had been visiting. However, the fences and hedges between the gardens of Privet Drive did look somewhat ragged. As Harry looked down the row of hedges on the first Sunday after his return from school he noticed there were several middle aged gentlemen either trying to straighten a bedraggled bushes with pruning shears or repairing damaged wooden fences. Clicketty-click-clicking of shears and ra-ta-tat hammering noises filled the air.
The gentlemen who were busy in their gardens were oblivious of each other or at least were blissfully unaware of the slightly odd scene they made. Of course (they would each think to themselves) it is only to be expected that on a fine summer day an English gentleman will be in his garden attending to his borders and boundaries.
Harry approached a few of his neighbours but they were not able to tell him very much. The loud noises in the dead of night had attracted attention. Residents were often quick to wake and peer out of their windows but invariably the culprit was gone and all that was left was lawn, rockeries, shrubs, rubbish and an upturned wheelybin.
Dudley had explained to Harry over his midmorning snack while Harry was washing the kitchen windows that no one had seen hide nor hair of the bin- tipper. Indeed some had searched the trees and rocks of the forest to the rear of the gardens but had found nothing but trees and rocks. The cage was still where it had been found in the woods and Dudley described its whereabouts to Harry.
'Its about a hundred metres into the woods next to a crooked oak tree.'
Of course Harry understood that Dudley was only being helpful because he hoped that Harry would come to some harm trying to track down the bin- tipper but Harry didn't mind. At least he would be well away from Dudley who would no doubt be too scared to set foot in the woods.
After Sunday lunch, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were snoozing like a pair of overfed hogs and Dudley was staring gormlessly at the TV. Harry finished washing the dishes and set out into the woods to hunt for clues. The woods were in fact particularly pleasant and very different to the forbidden forest that surrounded Hogwarts. On this day everything appeared to be perfectly normal. Harry was startled on occasion by a pheasant taking off or a rabbit bolting for its hole but in the main, everything was normal.
Harry knew the woods well as he had spent many hours there during his childhood avoiding Dudley. He headed straight for the crooked oak tree which was by a small clearing next to a stream. The cage and the slightly smelly wheelybin were still there and it was clear that they had hit the ground with considerable force. Looking up Harry could see where the branches of trees had been broken as the cage had landed and the bars of the underside of the cage were firmly embedded in the ground. Harry decided to test the strength of the bars by hitting them with a rock. He tried to dislodge a rock from a nearby outcrop but it seemed that the harder he tried to move the rock the more firmly it became joined to the rest of the rocks. Eventually he gave up and instead sat on the rocky outcrop considering the cage.
Certainly, it would not be possible for any of the usual animals found in these woods to have moved the cage. Indeed, it was hard to imagine or guess how the cage could possibly have been removed from the back garden of No.4 Privet Drive and sent high in the air landing so far away. Harry had encountered many unusual and magical creatures during his first year at Hogwarts including dragons, trolls and centaurs but such creatures dwelt in out of the way places and knew better than to go where people lived.
Harry reflected happily for a while on the events of the past year. He noticed suddenly that his hand was resting in something sticky which appeared to be oozing out of the side of the rocks. He observed this for a moment, sniffed it and then wiped his hand on the grass. He then picked himself up and headed back to the Dursleys.
Hands in pockets and taking in the late afternoon sunlight beaming through the canopy he left the clearing casting only the briefest of glances back towards the cage by the rocky outcrop.
The day wore on and as the sun set in the west the shaft of sunlight shining through the hole in the canopy passed over the mound of rocks and faded with the approach of evening.
The mound of rocks shivered.
The particular rock that the boy had been trying to prize loose unclenched three hard rock fingers. The hand reclenched itself and waited for darkness.