Chapter 1: Blame
"Always making a mess, they are!" yelled a giant voice from the kitchen. "Can't keep their abnormality at bay, they have to bother us with it!"
Harry Potter rolled over in bed. This shouting was not new to him. He was quite used to the bellowing of his uncle, and lately, of his cousin, as well. Dudley Dursley was almost fifteen years old, and his voice was turning from an obnoxious little boy's to that of a very stupid young man, if you could call him a man.
On this particular morning, Uncle Vernon was yet again complaining about having to take care of his nephew. Harry had come to live with Vernon, Petunia, and their son, Dudley, before he could walk or talk. They found him on their doorstep one fall morning, almost fourteen years before the day in question. No, Harry was not abandoned and left on a stranger's doorstep. The fact was that he was a very special boy. The "abnormality" about which Uncle Vernon spoke was magic. Harry was a wizard. He was quite possibly the most powerful wizard in centuries. His parents had been James and Lily Potter, and were two of the most well-liked, good-hearted wizards in their world. Perhaps their popularity had indirectly led to Harry's living with his aunt and uncle. On Halloween, when Harry was only a year old, his parents were murdered by the most powerful dark wizard of the time. Most witches and wizards were still afraid to speak his name, referring to him as You-Know-Who, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was a great mystery that Harry even lived to join the Dursleys. The dark wizard, Voldemort, after killing Harry's parents, had turned his wand on the baby, Harry, but failed to kill him. The spell rebounded on Voldemort and left him powerless and bodiless. He retreated into hiding for thirteen years, but had resurfaced, in a brand new body, with the help of his supporters at the end of Harry's last year at school.
When Harry awoke on the morning in question, it was from a terrible nightmare. In his dream, a handsome young man of seventeen was talking to him. They were in a cemetery, and Voldemort was laughing his cold cruel laugh. There was a bright green light all around him, and he could hear beautiful music: Phoenix song. Harry kept trying to tell the other boy to go back to Hogwarts, which was their wizarding school, but every time he opened his mouth, the words "Avada Kedavra" came out instead of what he wanted to say. The moment Uncle Vernon woke him from his not-so-peaceful slumber, Harry's wand was raised, rather against his will, and he was uttering, to his own shock "Avada…"
He sat bolt upright in bed. This wasn't the first time he dreamed about Cedric, and it probably wouldn't be the last. It had been two weeks since Cedric's death, and Harry couldn't stop blaming himself. In fact, he blamed himself for many things in the wizarding world nowadays. He rubbed the lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, the only physical remnant of the Voldemort's failed spell. He had been doing that a lot lately, as the scar only hurt him when Voldemort was nearby or plotting against him, and since Voldemort came back, he had been plotting against Harry the whole time.
Now Uncle Vernon was yelling up to Harry, "Get down here boy, and don't think you're going to eat breakfast after we leave! If you don't eat now, you'll have to wait! I don't want you making a mess of the place!"
"I'm coming!"
The only thing that kept Harry from going crazy in the past two weeks with the Dursleys was the knowledge that in only one more week, he would be going to stay at the Burrow with his good friends, the Weasleys. Ron Weasley was one of Harry's best friends from Hogwarts. Ron had two wonderful parents, five older brothers, and a little sister. Harry's other best friend, Hermione Granger would be joining them the day before Harry's birthday. It was to be the first time Harry could remember that he would be able to spend his birthday with people who loved him.
It wasn't easy getting permission to go to the Weasleys, either. The Dursleys had no problem with it. They had given up on keeping Harry from going to the Weasleys after last year's fiasco, in which Dudley's tongue ended up three feet long. No, the Dursleys felt that the sooner they were rid of Harry, the better. It was Dumbledore who needed convincing. Albus Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. He told Harry that he was to stay with the Dursleys the entire summer. After sending his owl, Hedwig, back and forth between 4 Privet Drive and Dumbledore's summer residence (Harry was shocked that she actually managed to find him!) a countless number of times, Harry finally received a response, which read in loopy handwriting:
Very well, Harry.
You may go stay with Arthur and Molly Weasley under one condition. You may not leave the Burrow without Molly, Arthur, Bill, or Charlie. I am putting a safety charm around the property to keep you from doing so. Only one of the four of them can get you through it. I hope the rest of your holiday is enjoyable.
And Harry, do take care of yourself.
Yours,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry was disappointed that he couldn't go out without being accompanied by Ron's parents or one of his two eldest brothers, but he was nevertheless ecstatic that he received permission.
He groggily got dressed and looked in the mirror. If it had been a wizard mirror, it would have told him to comb his hair, as the jet-black mop on his head grew in all directions, no matter how much he combed it. The rest of his reflection, however, was shaping up to be quite a good-looking young man. His green eyes stared at him from under his thick glasses, and his thin body was starting to tone up. This last development probably had something to do with the fact that Harry had taken part in the Triwizard tournament at Hogwarts in his fourth year. The tournament ended with Cedric's death and the return to power of Voldemort, but in the process, Harry had gotten quite a workout. He had also grown three inches since his fourteenth birthday. He made a mental note that he would have to stop by Madam Malkin's robe shop before returning to Hogwarts this year.
When Harry walked into the kitchen, the Dursleys had eaten all but one pancake, which Aunt Petunia threw onto the bare table for Harry. Dudley had a look that was a mixture of fear, hate, and jealousy in his eyes. The diet his school put him on the previous summer had worked to some extent, and he was back down to only taking up two chairs at the kitchen table, but his temperament seemed to be the worse for it. Harry ate his soggy pancake standing up, and headed back upstairs to owl Ron.
He wasn't really sure what he wanted to write to Ron. No one really knew how guilty Harry felt about Cedric, and everyone knew that Harry was greatly affected by his lack of parents, but few people understood the blame he felt. In the end, Harry wrote a short letter telling Ron that Dumbledore had finally given him permission to stay at the Weasleys for the summer holiday. He poked Hedwig awake, and after feeding her a few leftover bits from his pancake, tied the parchment to her leg.
"Take this to Ron for me, please."
She ruffled her feathers and flew out the window, and he watched her fly away until she was only a tiny white speck in the distance. He loved watching owls fly. Since the first time he witnessed owl post on his eleventh birthday, it never ceased to amaze him. He sat down on his bed and reached under the loose floorboard. That was where he kept all his Chocolate Frogs, his Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans, and other such wizard treats he bought at Honeydukes before he left Hogwarts. He figured he just about enough left to last until he left for the Weasleys. He still wasn't sure how he was getting there, but he knew the Weasleys would work it out.
He heard pounding in the hallway, which could only mean one thing. Dudley had come upstairs, and Uncle Vernon must have gone to work. Aunt Petunia came up soon after Dudley and opened Harry's door without knocking.
"Thursday is Dudley's birthday, and we're taking him on a 3-day cruise. You'll be staying with Mrs. Figg." She walked out.
Harry opened his mouth to proteest, but she was already gone. He decided that he would bring as much homework as he could to Mrs. Figg's. Maybe if he wrote that long essay for his least favorite professor, Snape, he would be too busy the entire time for her to bother him with her boring pictures and stories of her many cats.
* * * * * * * * *
When Harry arrived at Mrs. Figg's house with his bag packed, a rush of cats came to the door to greet him. One of the cats looked very familiar. It was a tabby cat with square markings around its eyes. As Mrs. Figg led him into the living room, his knees almost gave under him. Sitting on the couch was none other than Albus Dumbledore himself, and the Tabby cat jumped onto the couch next to him. With a pop, she was gone, and in her place was Minerva McGonagall, the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. Harry could only imagine what they were doing there. He could never remember seeing Dumbledore outside the Hogwarts grounds, and had no idea why he would come to the vicinity of Privet Drive.
Dumbledore looked as though he were about to answer Harry's thoughts. "Harry, meet Arabella Figg. She was a professor at Hogwarts when your parents were students there. She taught Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Harry was completely confused. "If she's a witch, then why is she living here among muggles, and why didn't she tell me all those years?" He turned to Mrs. Figg. "Why didn't you tell me?"
When Mrs. Figg spoke, it wasn't with the voice of an elderly old muggle woman who was obsessed with her cats, but rather that of a witch who had many years of experience under her belt. "When He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named broke into Godric's Hollow many years ago, I was still teaching at Hogwarts. Dumbledore came to me on the day it happened and asked me if I would look after you here at Privet Drive. I was planning on retiring at the end of the term anyway, so I left the post just a bit earlier than scheduled, and moved here, two streets down from where you would come to live that evening. Dumbledore and I spent nearly the entire day placing charms and enchantments over 4 Privet Drive. We called up all sorts of old magic to create protection for you, Harry, in case any of the Death Eaters came looking for you. Lastly, I became a secret keeper for you. No one besides Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, and myself knew of your whereabouts. Since the secret keeper spell was performed, even if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came knocking on the Dursleys door selling girl scout cookies, he would not have known you were there. Do you understand, Harry?"
Harry nodded, somewhat hesitantly.
Dumbledore continued where Mrs. Figg left off. "Now you see, Harry, why I was so hesitant to grant you permission to leave the Dursleys' residence. It is the safest place for you besides Hogwarts, or was." Harry gave him a quizzical look. He continued, "Now that Voldemort has returned to his body," Mrs. Figg and Professor McGonagall both flinched slightly at the mention of Voldemort's name, "we must be particularly cautious. You, of all people, should know that." Harry bowed his head, thinking of Cedric, and, more subliminally, of his parents. "I have many reasons for allowing you to go. Others think I am making the wrong decision," At this, Professor McGonagall gave Dumbledore a piercing look, "but I would feel much more comfortable having several witches and wizards we trust watching over you than just one.
"The other reason is that Voldemort seems to have discovered 4 Privet Drive."
* * * * * * * *
To be continued…
"Always making a mess, they are!" yelled a giant voice from the kitchen. "Can't keep their abnormality at bay, they have to bother us with it!"
Harry Potter rolled over in bed. This shouting was not new to him. He was quite used to the bellowing of his uncle, and lately, of his cousin, as well. Dudley Dursley was almost fifteen years old, and his voice was turning from an obnoxious little boy's to that of a very stupid young man, if you could call him a man.
On this particular morning, Uncle Vernon was yet again complaining about having to take care of his nephew. Harry had come to live with Vernon, Petunia, and their son, Dudley, before he could walk or talk. They found him on their doorstep one fall morning, almost fourteen years before the day in question. No, Harry was not abandoned and left on a stranger's doorstep. The fact was that he was a very special boy. The "abnormality" about which Uncle Vernon spoke was magic. Harry was a wizard. He was quite possibly the most powerful wizard in centuries. His parents had been James and Lily Potter, and were two of the most well-liked, good-hearted wizards in their world. Perhaps their popularity had indirectly led to Harry's living with his aunt and uncle. On Halloween, when Harry was only a year old, his parents were murdered by the most powerful dark wizard of the time. Most witches and wizards were still afraid to speak his name, referring to him as You-Know-Who, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was a great mystery that Harry even lived to join the Dursleys. The dark wizard, Voldemort, after killing Harry's parents, had turned his wand on the baby, Harry, but failed to kill him. The spell rebounded on Voldemort and left him powerless and bodiless. He retreated into hiding for thirteen years, but had resurfaced, in a brand new body, with the help of his supporters at the end of Harry's last year at school.
When Harry awoke on the morning in question, it was from a terrible nightmare. In his dream, a handsome young man of seventeen was talking to him. They were in a cemetery, and Voldemort was laughing his cold cruel laugh. There was a bright green light all around him, and he could hear beautiful music: Phoenix song. Harry kept trying to tell the other boy to go back to Hogwarts, which was their wizarding school, but every time he opened his mouth, the words "Avada Kedavra" came out instead of what he wanted to say. The moment Uncle Vernon woke him from his not-so-peaceful slumber, Harry's wand was raised, rather against his will, and he was uttering, to his own shock "Avada…"
He sat bolt upright in bed. This wasn't the first time he dreamed about Cedric, and it probably wouldn't be the last. It had been two weeks since Cedric's death, and Harry couldn't stop blaming himself. In fact, he blamed himself for many things in the wizarding world nowadays. He rubbed the lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, the only physical remnant of the Voldemort's failed spell. He had been doing that a lot lately, as the scar only hurt him when Voldemort was nearby or plotting against him, and since Voldemort came back, he had been plotting against Harry the whole time.
Now Uncle Vernon was yelling up to Harry, "Get down here boy, and don't think you're going to eat breakfast after we leave! If you don't eat now, you'll have to wait! I don't want you making a mess of the place!"
"I'm coming!"
The only thing that kept Harry from going crazy in the past two weeks with the Dursleys was the knowledge that in only one more week, he would be going to stay at the Burrow with his good friends, the Weasleys. Ron Weasley was one of Harry's best friends from Hogwarts. Ron had two wonderful parents, five older brothers, and a little sister. Harry's other best friend, Hermione Granger would be joining them the day before Harry's birthday. It was to be the first time Harry could remember that he would be able to spend his birthday with people who loved him.
It wasn't easy getting permission to go to the Weasleys, either. The Dursleys had no problem with it. They had given up on keeping Harry from going to the Weasleys after last year's fiasco, in which Dudley's tongue ended up three feet long. No, the Dursleys felt that the sooner they were rid of Harry, the better. It was Dumbledore who needed convincing. Albus Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. He told Harry that he was to stay with the Dursleys the entire summer. After sending his owl, Hedwig, back and forth between 4 Privet Drive and Dumbledore's summer residence (Harry was shocked that she actually managed to find him!) a countless number of times, Harry finally received a response, which read in loopy handwriting:
Very well, Harry.
You may go stay with Arthur and Molly Weasley under one condition. You may not leave the Burrow without Molly, Arthur, Bill, or Charlie. I am putting a safety charm around the property to keep you from doing so. Only one of the four of them can get you through it. I hope the rest of your holiday is enjoyable.
And Harry, do take care of yourself.
Yours,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry was disappointed that he couldn't go out without being accompanied by Ron's parents or one of his two eldest brothers, but he was nevertheless ecstatic that he received permission.
He groggily got dressed and looked in the mirror. If it had been a wizard mirror, it would have told him to comb his hair, as the jet-black mop on his head grew in all directions, no matter how much he combed it. The rest of his reflection, however, was shaping up to be quite a good-looking young man. His green eyes stared at him from under his thick glasses, and his thin body was starting to tone up. This last development probably had something to do with the fact that Harry had taken part in the Triwizard tournament at Hogwarts in his fourth year. The tournament ended with Cedric's death and the return to power of Voldemort, but in the process, Harry had gotten quite a workout. He had also grown three inches since his fourteenth birthday. He made a mental note that he would have to stop by Madam Malkin's robe shop before returning to Hogwarts this year.
When Harry walked into the kitchen, the Dursleys had eaten all but one pancake, which Aunt Petunia threw onto the bare table for Harry. Dudley had a look that was a mixture of fear, hate, and jealousy in his eyes. The diet his school put him on the previous summer had worked to some extent, and he was back down to only taking up two chairs at the kitchen table, but his temperament seemed to be the worse for it. Harry ate his soggy pancake standing up, and headed back upstairs to owl Ron.
He wasn't really sure what he wanted to write to Ron. No one really knew how guilty Harry felt about Cedric, and everyone knew that Harry was greatly affected by his lack of parents, but few people understood the blame he felt. In the end, Harry wrote a short letter telling Ron that Dumbledore had finally given him permission to stay at the Weasleys for the summer holiday. He poked Hedwig awake, and after feeding her a few leftover bits from his pancake, tied the parchment to her leg.
"Take this to Ron for me, please."
She ruffled her feathers and flew out the window, and he watched her fly away until she was only a tiny white speck in the distance. He loved watching owls fly. Since the first time he witnessed owl post on his eleventh birthday, it never ceased to amaze him. He sat down on his bed and reached under the loose floorboard. That was where he kept all his Chocolate Frogs, his Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans, and other such wizard treats he bought at Honeydukes before he left Hogwarts. He figured he just about enough left to last until he left for the Weasleys. He still wasn't sure how he was getting there, but he knew the Weasleys would work it out.
He heard pounding in the hallway, which could only mean one thing. Dudley had come upstairs, and Uncle Vernon must have gone to work. Aunt Petunia came up soon after Dudley and opened Harry's door without knocking.
"Thursday is Dudley's birthday, and we're taking him on a 3-day cruise. You'll be staying with Mrs. Figg." She walked out.
Harry opened his mouth to proteest, but she was already gone. He decided that he would bring as much homework as he could to Mrs. Figg's. Maybe if he wrote that long essay for his least favorite professor, Snape, he would be too busy the entire time for her to bother him with her boring pictures and stories of her many cats.
* * * * * * * * *
When Harry arrived at Mrs. Figg's house with his bag packed, a rush of cats came to the door to greet him. One of the cats looked very familiar. It was a tabby cat with square markings around its eyes. As Mrs. Figg led him into the living room, his knees almost gave under him. Sitting on the couch was none other than Albus Dumbledore himself, and the Tabby cat jumped onto the couch next to him. With a pop, she was gone, and in her place was Minerva McGonagall, the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. Harry could only imagine what they were doing there. He could never remember seeing Dumbledore outside the Hogwarts grounds, and had no idea why he would come to the vicinity of Privet Drive.
Dumbledore looked as though he were about to answer Harry's thoughts. "Harry, meet Arabella Figg. She was a professor at Hogwarts when your parents were students there. She taught Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Harry was completely confused. "If she's a witch, then why is she living here among muggles, and why didn't she tell me all those years?" He turned to Mrs. Figg. "Why didn't you tell me?"
When Mrs. Figg spoke, it wasn't with the voice of an elderly old muggle woman who was obsessed with her cats, but rather that of a witch who had many years of experience under her belt. "When He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named broke into Godric's Hollow many years ago, I was still teaching at Hogwarts. Dumbledore came to me on the day it happened and asked me if I would look after you here at Privet Drive. I was planning on retiring at the end of the term anyway, so I left the post just a bit earlier than scheduled, and moved here, two streets down from where you would come to live that evening. Dumbledore and I spent nearly the entire day placing charms and enchantments over 4 Privet Drive. We called up all sorts of old magic to create protection for you, Harry, in case any of the Death Eaters came looking for you. Lastly, I became a secret keeper for you. No one besides Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, and myself knew of your whereabouts. Since the secret keeper spell was performed, even if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came knocking on the Dursleys door selling girl scout cookies, he would not have known you were there. Do you understand, Harry?"
Harry nodded, somewhat hesitantly.
Dumbledore continued where Mrs. Figg left off. "Now you see, Harry, why I was so hesitant to grant you permission to leave the Dursleys' residence. It is the safest place for you besides Hogwarts, or was." Harry gave him a quizzical look. He continued, "Now that Voldemort has returned to his body," Mrs. Figg and Professor McGonagall both flinched slightly at the mention of Voldemort's name, "we must be particularly cautious. You, of all people, should know that." Harry bowed his head, thinking of Cedric, and, more subliminally, of his parents. "I have many reasons for allowing you to go. Others think I am making the wrong decision," At this, Professor McGonagall gave Dumbledore a piercing look, "but I would feel much more comfortable having several witches and wizards we trust watching over you than just one.
"The other reason is that Voldemort seems to have discovered 4 Privet Drive."
* * * * * * * *
To be continued…
