Harry Potter and the Mysteries Within
Chapter One – It's Just Emotion
Disclaimer (to all chapters)– Miss JK Rowling, her publishers and Warner Brothers own the rights to Harry Potter. I only came up with the plot idea. Don't sue me!
To all of you who think this story sounds familiar…I originally published chapters 1-11 in August 2004, but now its back, and this time I will complete it! I've slightly altered the original 11 chapters, along with my marvellous Beta and Editor in Chief – CreativeQuill. Check her work out, as it is what inspires me to write (apart from Harry Potter…) and is much superior to my work…
Unlike most ordinary people who, upon seeing an owl fly through their open bedroom window, would have jumped up and perhaps yelled from surprise, Harry Potter didn't jump. He didn't even flinch. But then again, Harry Potter wasn't exactly an 'ordinary' person.
Instead, Harry calmly sat up from where he had been lying on the lumpy mattress, and reached over to the owl, which had landed on a corner post of the footboard, and waited, watching him rather impatiently, her left foot stuck out at him.
"Thanks, Hedwig," said the boy as he untied the envelope that was attached to the snowy owl's leg. After taking the envelope, Harry gently stroked Hedwig, who in turn cooed before nipping at his fingers affectionately, then flying off to her cage on top of Harry's wardrobe. Harry watched her while she began drinking from the fresh beaker of water he had put there that morning.
Returning his attention to the envelope in his hand, he turned it over to look at the front, hoping to recognise a friend's handwriting. He couldn't help but smile as he saw the familiar, untidy scrawl of his best friend, Ron Weasley. 'To Harry Potter', Harry read to himself, wondering why Ron always used his full name on the front of his letters. 'Surely Pig knows who I am by now and where to find me. Where else would I be?' he thought bitterly, as most of his thoughts seemed to be these says. Pig was Ron's tiny owl, and wasn't much bigger than a Golden Snitch, and it was perhaps due to the hyperactive nature of his own owl that often encouraged Ron to use Hedwig's return journey to deliver his letters. After all, Ron's owl wasn't known for its intelligence…
Turning the envelope over again and tearing it open, Harry pulled out a single piece of dirty white parchment and began to read.
Dear Harry
How are you, mate? Sorry I haven't written sooner. It's been really hectic around here. I know this might sound a bit pathetic, but I hope you're coping OK with everything that happened at the end of last term. Sorry to bring it up but I need you to know that I'm always here if you ever need to talk.
Anyway, I have some good news for you. I'm coming to see you! I can't tell you here how I'm getting there, but don't worry, I won't be crashing through your fireplace like we did last time. Although it would be worth it just to see the look on your uncles face! I hope you can meet me at the place where your cousin hangs out, at about 9 tonight. I have loads to tell you about what's been happening. And don't worry about not being allowed out on your own because of...well you know. It's all been sorted.
Let me know if this is OK,
See you soon,
Ron
"Ron's coming to see me? Here? Tonight?" Harry said out loud. About a hundred questions began racing around his mind. How's he going to get here? What does he have to tell me? What could be so important that Ron felt he had to tell me in person? And what did he mean when he said it's been sorted for me to go out on my own?
All summer Harry had been locked away in his Aunt and Uncles house upon the orders of his own headmaster. Professor Dumbledore did have a good reason for this of course, even though Harry still didn't fully understand why he couldn't stay with the Weasley's or at Grimmauld Place. Only last summer, Harry and his cousin Dudley were attacked, just down the road from this very house, by two Dementors sent by Harry's delightful fifth year Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dolores Umbridge, which in Harry's mind made this place just as dangerous as any other. And then there was always the ever-present threat from Voldemort and his death eater henchmen…
Walking over to the shabby desk with one leg shorter than the other three, which sat under the window of his tiny bedroom, Harry sat down, took some parchment, a quill and ink from the top drawer and wrote his reply to Ron.
Dear Ron
I'll be there at 9pm.Harry hesitated for a second. He was about to write 'you've worried me a bit', but thought better of it. He didn't want Ron to see what he'd been like ever since he got back 'home', worrying about a war that may or may not have started, but which he knew nothing about. Worrying about his adopted family while at the same time hating not being there with them. But most of all, simply missing the life he should be living all year round instead of just during the school year. Instead, he signed his reply off:
See you tonight,
Harry
He then rolled the parchment up and called Hedwig over, who gave a rather unappreciative squawk at being sent out again so soon after getting back, and sent her to the Burrow, where Ron lived with his parents, his younger sister Ginny and his two older twin brothers, Fred and George. Ron also had three more older brothers. Charlie was studying dragons in Egypt, and Bill was working for the wizarding bank, Gringotts. Percy, the third oldest of the Weasley siblings, had gone to work for the Ministry of Magic and had since abandoned his family. The year before, he had even warned Ron about being friends with Harry. Harry had discovered it was a subject best left untouched in his mind. It only really served to make him angry.
"Harry!" Looking at his watch he let out a long sigh. One o-clock. Aunt Petunia always shouted for Harry to help make lunch. She didn't have to say what she wanted; it had been the same routine day in and day out for the past five weeks now.
Absent-mindedly scratching his forehead where the rather noticable scar in the shape of a lighting bolt resided, Harry rose from his chair and made his way downstairs.
Harry's cousin, Dudley, sat at the kitchen table watching a cowboy film on the TV. The Dursley's seemed to have a TV in every room (every room but Harry's, that is) so that Dudley could watch it wherever he was in the house, which was pretty much all the time, without the inconvenience of missing scenes from his favorite programmes. Which seemed to be all of them, actually. There was even a small portable TV in the bathroom, although Harry was forbidden to touch it.
Aunt Petunia was at the kitchen sink washing salad makings. Of course, this salad was only for his Aunt and Uncle. Harry would be making Dudley's lunch – giving Dudley a salad to eat would be a very big mistake. Aunt Petunia had quickly come to realise this after trying to put Dudley on a diet. After she'd caught him surreptitiously eating Hedwig's owl treats, she and Harry's uncle had given in. Whatever Dudley thought was best for him, was best for him.
Harry entered the kitchen and, without saying a word and without being spoken to, fetched some potatoes from under the sink, and began to peel them. Slicing them into enough chips to feed the whole family, he shook his head disgustedly when he thought that they were all for Dudley. Harry would make his own lunch when everyone had left the kitchen after the meal. Putting several sausages and slices of fatty bacon into the frying pan, Harry glanced over at his cousin sitting at the table.
'Can he get much bigger before he explodes?' he wondered. But then he remembered how big his Aunt Marge had gotten when he had made her inflate to the size of a small car. He hadn't meant to do it of course, and he didn't even have his wand with him, but it was still funny to think about it sometimes. Trying to hide the smile on his face before anyone noticed, Harry turned around and continued to cook Dudley's meal.
When he had finished and Dudley was happily filling his face with food, rather too quickly Harry thought, he left the kitchen without anything being said, and went to sit at the far end of the garden under the welcoming shade of the Dursley's perfectly shaped apple tree.
Harry was used to being completely ignored by the Dursley's. Hardly a word had been said to him other than orders or random screams, since the altercation between Uncle Vernon and Mad Eye Moody and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix at Kings Cross Station five weeks ago. Not that Harry minded, He'd rather not be talked to at all than be constantly talked down to and insulted, and have his parent's and Sirius Black's memory insulted in front of him.
Sirius Black. It was only a matter of time before Harry's thoughts turned to his Godfather. He had been thinking of almost nothing but Sirius and the events at the Department of Mysteries at the end of the last term of his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry since school had let out. He knew that he thought about it too much, and was dwelling upon it for more time than was good for him, but he couldn't help it. There was certainly no one to talk to about it, and without talking about it, he was forced to keep it held in.
'Sirius is dead because of me. He's dead because I couldn't keep up with those stupid Occlumency lessons with Snape and let Voldemort trick me. He's dead because once again I had to act the hero; I had to lead my friends into trouble and had to be saved by the Order. And Sirius died trying to save me,' had been Harry's most common train of thought throughout the weeks since he'd last seen the others at Kings Cross.
Nobody blamed Harry for what happened. It was just another part of Voldemort's ongoing attempts to kill Harry Potter and take over the wizarding world with the help of his followers, the Death Eaters. But Harry didn't see things like that. He didn't think he could ever stop blaming himself for the death of the closest person Harry had had to family since the death of his parents fifteen years ago.
"I could have saved him. I know I could. I could have stopped Sirius from falling behind the veil. I could have gone after him and brought him back. But I didn't, and now he's gone! I almost lost my best friends too!" he muttered, plucking blades of grass absently from the lawn.
All of these thoughts, rushing madly through his head like a waterfall as they often had during the past five weeks, had made Harry go red in the face and he curled his hands into fists. Pounding the ground beneath him, Harry thought of how his friends could have been killed by the death eaters, too. Ron and his other best friend, Hermione Granger, had been with him, as were Neville, Luna and Ginny.
'What if they had been killed?' he thought, his eyes gleaming with tears waiting to be shed. Thinking what it would be like to live life without Sirius as well as his best friends was almost unbearable for Harry. It was then that he realised how much Ron, Hermione, and now Ginny, meant to him. The Weasley's and Hermione were his family, and as long as they were around him, he could get through anything.
Wiping away the tears that had now cascaded down his cheeks, Harry decided that what he needed was some exercise. Being holed up in the same place for all this time couldn't be good for him, and it always helped Harry to get rid of his pent up emotion. For a teenager who had been sixteen for only a week, he seemed to have a whole lot of pent-up emotion within him.
At quarter to nine that night, Harry silently closed his bedroom door behind him and made his way down the stairs, being careful to skip the creaky bottom step. He could just about hear the television over the roar of Dudley and Uncle Vernon laughing at whatever it was they were watching. Harry hadn't watched television since he was eleven, apart from when he had had to sneak a listen of the news last summer in the hope of hearing something of importance about Voldemort. This was something that he hadn't even bothered to attempt this summer, largely thanks to the Dursley's insistence of 'No television between six and eight PM', which had been met with a flying plate at Harry's head from Dudley's direction.
Grabbing the front door key that was hanging on the wall next to the door, Harry left number four and silently thanked his cousin and uncle for having such booming voices, drowning out any noises that he made. Harry walked quickly down the street in the fading light of the mid-summers evening, looking forward to seeing a friendly face and catching up on what had been happening in the wizarding world.
As Harry turned onto Magnolia Crescent, he passed a strangely familiar middle-aged woman with short and spiky dark purple hair. He couldn't understand why she looked so familiar though, and so carried on walking, mildly disturbed with a feeling that something was odd about her. When he reached the park where he would be meeting Ron to find it deserted, Harry walked over to the swings and sat on the only one that hadn't been rolled up around the supporting bar above him, no doubt the handiwork of Dudley's gang. It seemed being attacked by a Dementor hadn't changed Dudley in the slightest. Apart from meal times, and when one of his ever growing list of favourite shows was on TV, Dudley was hardly in the house any more – not that Harry complained. He was most likely off with his gang somewhere terrorizing unfortunate ten year olds.
After a couple of minutes of waiting, Harry's mind began to wander, and he found himself staring at an alleyway between two houses over the road. The same alleyway that Harry had first laid eyes on his Godfather nearly three years ago. Harry sat there in a daze for what must have been ten minutes, hardly blinking, staring at the alley and remembering the grim-like dog that had startled him so much that he had nearly been run over by the Knight Bus. And then, the image of the dog began to change in Harry's mind, began to elongate, the dark black hair on the animals head turning red. At this Harry snapped out of his thoughts and forced himself to look away from the alleyway. He blinked several times, and then did a double take.
"Ron!"
"Hey, Harry!" Ron called as he made his way over the traffic-less road and hopped over the wrought iron fence into the park, before jogging over to the swings.
"How've you been mate?"
"Fine," said Harry evasively, avoiding his best friends eyes. "You? How is everyone?"
"Yeah... yeah were all doing OK," Ron said, parking himself on the ground nearby and pulling his long, gangly legs up to be circled by long, gangly arms. "Everyone's been kept busy, what with...you know... We're all really worried about you, though, mate".
Harry knew this was coming. He hadn't spoken about what happened at the Department of Mysteries with anyone but Dumbledore, Luna and Nearly Headless Nick. Ron was his best friend after all, and it was his job to worry about him, but Harry couldn't help what he felt – he just wasn't ready to talk about it with anyone else yet.
"Ron..." Harry began, "I know you're only trying to look out for me and everything but I'm just not ready to talk about it until... until I can accept what happened." He gave Ron an almost pleading look, silently asking him to drop the subject. Ron looked down at the grass he was sitting on, pulled out a strand and began studying it intently in the darkness.
"I know mate. I told Hermione that I was coming to see you and she made me promise I'd ask you... you know what she's like if she doesn't get her own... Just remember, if you ever need to talk, we're here, right?"
"Thanks, Ron," said Harry, moving to sit down next to him. He could always count on his best friend to not push him too hard when he didn't want to discuss something. Ron understood.
After a minute of silence, Harry said, "So what brings you to Little Whinging? Surely you didn't come just because Hermione wanted to know how I was? And what did you mean in your letter when you said it's okay for me to come out on my own? Nobody's told me it's not okay for me to come outside."
"Ah... well..." spluttered Ron, whose ears had turned red, though it was much too dark for Harry to notice. "You see, since you've been back here with your Aunt and Uncle, people form the Order have been kind of... well, keeping a watch on you. Only not just people from the Order. Since You-Know-Who came out in public, Aurors have been keeping tabs on you too."
Harry supposed this was to be expected. Of course members of the Order of the Phoenix would be watching his house. He was the only person who could defeat Voldemort after all. But why would Aurors be watching him, as well?
'You know that's a stupid question', said a voice in the back of Harry's mind. He had found himself having arguments inside his head against this voice a lot recently, mostly when he was beating himself up about his godfather, and Cedric, and how his friends could have been killed that night at the Department of Mysteries.
"Okay, so I'm being babysat," Harry said derisively. "Great."
"It's not like that mate. Dumbledore's not gonna let you stay here and not be protected. Not after what happened with ... well, with the Dementors before."
"How come I haven't seen anyone then? The only person from our world that I've seen in five weeks is Miss. Figg. I haven't seen anybody watching me. Nobody that looked familiar or odd."
"Well, that's good isn't it? They're trying to leave you alone and let you have a normal life for a change."
"Normal life? Me?" spat Harry. What was normal about his life? What could be normal about his life?
"Anyway, you won't have to be 'babysat' for much longer. Dumbledore says you can spend the rest of the summer at the Burrow with us. Someone will be coming to get you tomorrow, so have your things packed. They'll be coming about noon. That's what I needed to see you for, to tell you."
Harry sat in silence for a moment, contemplating what he had just heard. This was the best news that he had received in a very long time. He would be leaving his poor excuses for relatives tomorrow for nearly a whole year. He'd be able to see Hermione and Ginny and the other Weasleys again. There would be no more wondering about the wizarding world and what was happening. He was going back to his second home (after Hogwarts, of course). This news brought on an instant change in Harry's mood, and he suddenly stood up again. "This is great! I can't wait!"
"Yeah. Hermione will be coming at the weekend too. She's on holiday with her parents at the moment," Ron said, a smile coming across his face.
Harry had clicked on that Ron liked Hermione as more than a friend at the Yule Ball during fourth year, but had never pushed Ron into admitting it. It wasn't his business to go meddling in other people's relationships, and besides, Ron had never given Harry grief over his feelings for Cho. Harry thought with a small snort that they were both pretty hopeless with girls.
"What was that snigger for?" asked Ron.
"What? Oh...never mind" said Harry, flushing.
He walked over to the swing he had been sitting on earlier with a small smile playing on his face. As he sat down, he noticed a woman crossing the street and heading for the park. She then hopped over the fence in one fluid motion, much the same way as Ron had done.
'Odd' Harry thought. The woman looked a little old to be fence-hopping. And then he recognized the woman as the one he had passed on his way to meet Ron, the woman with the short spiky hair. Ron had failed to notice the woman and was again studying a blade of grass rather intently, apparently lost in thought. 'Ron lost in thought, odd again', mused Harry.
The woman was now walking directly at Harry and Ron, and it suddenly hit Harry as to how dangerous this situation could be. He stood up again and pulled his wand from his pocket, went back over to Ron and kicked him lightly in the shin to get his attention. The woman was less than fifty feet away now.
"What the bloody hell...?" Ron looked up at him angrily.
"There's someone coming, get your wand out!" Harry now had his wand pointed at the woman approaching, and Ron quickly followed suit. But as the woman got nearer, Ron said "Oh, it's her. Put your wand away, Harry. It's okay."
"Blimey Harry, drop your bloody wand before you take your eye out with it!" the woman shouted, in an oddly familiar voice.
"Tonks?" Harry said, dropping his wand to his side.
"Got it in one, Harry. Although when you passed me earlier I'm surprised you didn't recognized me then. Alright then, Ron?"
"Hi again, Tonks" said Ron, as Tonks joined the two boys next to the swings.
"Sorry to break this reunion up, but Ron, you've got to get back to Mrs Figg's house, the fireplace disconnects from the Floo network in ten minutes."
'So that's how Ron got here' Harry thought, although he supposed he always knew it. After all, Ron was too young to apparate, and was hardly going to hop on his broom and fly to Little Whinging all the way from Devon, was he?
Harry, Tonks and Ron walked out of the park and back towards Privet Drive, talking about the current situation with the War. It seemed that Voldemort hadn't been seen or heard of since retreating from the atrium at the Ministry. A couple of death eaters had been captured since then, thanks to the Order, but other than that things had been quiet.
"Just gaining in strength and numbers, Dumbledore suspects," Tonks said.
"Me and some others from the Order will be coming to get you tomorrow Harry, so just sit tight until we do."
"Okay, well I suppose I'll see you both tomorrow then," said Harry. Strangely, he felt he didn't want to let them go.
He received a quick hug from Tonks (who was still disguised as a middle aged woman, although from close up the spiky hair didn't do much towards making her disguise look authentic) and a smile from Ron, and they were gone. Harry walked towards number four for the last time that year, with the same smile playing on his face as before.
Perhaps this summer wouldn't be as bad as he had thought.
End of Chapter One
A/N – Please review! Thank you please.
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