Chapter 1: Memories

It was another calm, summer day on Number 4 Privet Drive. Outside it looked as normal as any other house on the block. Inside it seemed pretty normal as well, except, it was quieter than usual. Vernon Dursley was sitting in the living room, watching the news. His wife Petunia was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Their son Dudley was in his bedroom playing video games. And in another room, a teenage wizard named Harry Potter was lying on his bed next to a photo album with tears in his eyes.

It had been about a month since his godfather died in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic, but he was still having trouble coping with the loss. Since Sirius had come into his life two years before, he had grown to become the father Harry never had. Now, since the death had completely sunk into his mind, a void had reopened in Harry's life and, now more than ever, he felt incredibly alone.

His best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, did their best to write regularly to give support, as did Sirius' former associates in the Order of the Phoenix. He knew they meant well, but sometimes that still wasn't enough, because Sirius' death wasn't the only thing on his mind, something he still couldn't bring himself to mention to anyone.

After five years, Professor Dumbledore had finally told him why Voldemort, the most evil wizard in a century, had killed Harry's parents when he was a year old and then tried to kill Harry himself. A prophecy was made before he was born saying he was the only one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. Either Harry must kill Voldemort, or be killed by him.

Harry sat up and looked again at his photo album, which lay open to the picture of his parents' wedding. His mother, his father, Sirius--all dead, all because of him, Voldemort, and that prophecy. He looked at his desk, which was covered with the letters and birthday presents he received this summer. There was a bundle of Chocolate Frogs from Ron, Honeydukes Chocolate from Hermione, and a package of handkerchiefs from Lupin that were embroidered with his initials, along with a number of other gifts from the Order. How would he tell them? Should he even tell them? Knowing about the prophecy now made him feel so isolated, like he didn't even belong in that world anymore.

There was a knock on the door. "Harry, it's time for dinner," Aunt Petunia said. Harry dragged himself off his bed and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Mealtime had become especially quiet these days. Dudley had developed a nervous tick since the dementor incident last year that grew worse whenever Harry was around. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia rarely said anything to each other either. Every now and then, they would glance at each other and look away, as if each had something to say but were afraid to start or unsure how to start.

Then the phone rang. "I'll get it," Uncle Vernon muttered as he stood to go to the living room to answer the phone. "Hello? HELLO? WHY IN BLOODY HELL ARE YOU YELLING?" Uncle Vernon yelled angrily into the phone. "THIS IS VERNON DURSLEY! WHO IS THIS? WEASLEY? Oh. . ." his tone of voice immediately changed from anger to fearful pleasantry. "HELLO! HOW ARE YOU? WHAT? YOU WANT HARRY TO COME OVER? OF COURSE! FINE, WHATEVER YOU. . .THIS SUNDAY? FIVE O' CLOCK? PERFECT! WE'LL SEE YOU THEN! GOOD-BYE!"

Uncle Vernon walked back into the kitchen looking a bit harassed. "The Weasleys are picking you up this Sunday at five o' clock," he muttered in Harry's direction. Harry couldn't help feeling a little amused at the sight of his loud, brash uncle acting so humbled. When he came home that summer, several members of the Order warned Uncle Vernon that he must treat Harry well or face the consequences. Harry really appreciated this, since he had enough on his mind without having to deal with the Dursleys. He looked at his aunt, who quietly sat there eating her salad without a word to anyone. Last year she accidentally slipped that she knew more about the wizarding community than she originally let on. Harry was curious about this and wanted to ask her about it, but with the tension in the house being so thick it could be cut with a knife, he didn't feel he could.

That Sunday Harry packed his trunk and brought it and his owl Hedwig downstairs to the living room. As he passed by Dudley's room, he peeked in to see his cousin cowering behind his bed. Understandable, Harry thought with a smirk. After three dreadful encounters with the wizarding world, Harry doubted if Dudley would be willing to even show his face to another wizard. In the living room Uncle Vernon was removing the boards covering the fireplace. "If he thinks he can blow up my living room again--," he muttered. Harry smiled as he recalled the summer before his fourth year. He wondered if Mr. Weasley would be picking him up by Floo Powder this year.

At five o'clock the doorbell rang. Then it rang again. And again. And again. "What in blazes is going on out there?" Uncle Vernon shouted as he hurried to the door and threw it open.

"Dursley! So good to see you again!" Arthur Weasley exclaimed as he grabbed Vernon's hand and shook it heartily. He then turned back to the doorbell. "I was about to knock when I saw the button. Fascinating device! I could hear a ringing noise coming from inside. I wasn't sure if the button opened the door, or announced visitors first, or--" Harry got up and pulled his trunk to the door. "Ah, Harry! Are you ready to go?" Mr. Weasley's attention shifted to him as he neared the door. "Well, maybe next time Dursley. Time to go!"

Harry grinned as he watched his uncle slowly turn purple. "Next time..." Vernon muttered under his breath, as if incapable of believing that there would be a next time.

Mr. Weasley grabbed the trunk and pulled it outside as Harry looked up to see a Ministry car waiting for them in the street. "You won't believe the changes that have happened in the past month Harry," Mr. Weasley said as he walked to the car and loaded the trunk in. They got into the car as Mr. Weasley instructed the driver to take them to the Burrow. "For starters, Cornelius Fudge is no longer Minister of Magic."

"You're kidding!" Harry exclaimed. In the back of his mind though, he wasn't really surprised

Mr. Weasley nodded. "After ignoring the return of You-Know-Who and antagonizing you and Dumbledore, among other things, the community called for his dismissal. Then, Dumbledore recommends me, of all people, to replace Fudge!"

"Really? That's fantastic!" Harry beamed at him.

"You think so?" Mr. Weasley looked doubtful. "It was so sudden--and with everything that's going on now? Sometimes I don't feel I'm up to the challenge."

Harry thought about his prophecy for a moment. I completely empathize, he thought. "You definitely deserve the position, Mr. Weasley," he said. "And I think you'll do an excellent job."

As they approached the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley came out to meet them. "Hello Harry! How are you, dear?" she asked as she pulled Harry into a hug.

"I'm alright, thanks," Harry answered, managing a smile.

Mrs. Weasley smiled back and gave him another hug. "Ron's upstairs getting his room ready for you. Once we got permission from Dumbledore, we wanted to bring you here as quickly as we could." She led Harry to the door. "Remus had some business to attend to, but he will be joining us for dinner later."

Harry entered the house and headed straight up the stairs to see Ron. On his way he passed by an open door and glanced in to see Ginny sitting on her bed with a book in her lap and a pile of parchment beside her. She looked up as he passed the door and smiled. "Hi Harry," she said.

"Hi Ginny," he replied as he stepped into the room. "How are you?"

Ginny sighed and waved at the mess surrounding her. "Oh, I'm fine. Just studying for my O.W.L.s."

"That's right; you're taking them this year," Harry commented. "So what are you looking at?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," she answered with a grin. "I'm brushing up on the creatures."

"Oh." Harry peered over her shoulder at a picture of a fierce-looking creature with long, thin fingers. "Grindylows."

"Yeah, I can't find how to fight them," Ginny said with a furrowed brow as she continued to flip through the book.

"It's the fingers," Harry answered as he cleared a place on the bed to sit down. "They break easily." They started going down the list of creatures Ginny made. They were just about to discuss sphinxes when a voice called them from the hall.

"Harry, what're you doing in here?" Harry looked up at the door to see Ron and Lupin standing in the door. Harry jumped up with a start, suddenly remembering he was supposed to be going to Ron's room. "Er, we were studying," he mumbled. Why did he suddenly feel guilty? He wasn't doing anything wrong.

"I can see that," Ron replied with an arched eyebrow. "Come on, dinner's ready," he said as he continued down the stairs. Harry glanced back at Lupin, who was watching the whole scene with a sad smile on his face. Lupin sighed and then headed down the stairs.