A/N: Hi folks, I hope ya'll enjoyed chapter one ( if anyone read it all :D ). Let me tell you a little bit about this story. I wrote it back before HPand HBP was released, and first posted it on Unfortunately, I came down with a severe case of writers block and was deeply depressed, so I never finished it passed Chapter nine. However, I do plan on finishing this story, because we have a LOOOOOOONG way to go. Right now, I've been concentrating on my other two stories posted here on FFN. Ya'll check these out and let me know what you think. Thanks! Lord Talon

Chapter 2: A Startling Revelation.

The night was still, and entirely too warm. Harry lay upon his bed, wide awake, despite the lateness of the hour. Fatigue had overtaken his body, but his mind continued to race. Despite what Professor Dumbledore had told him, the same thought continued to run though Harry's mind.

Sirius is dead because of me.

He had slept very little in the month since he had returned to his Aunt and Uncle's house on Privet Drive. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his godfather's body fall through the veiled archway within the Department of Mysteries. Though no sound ever left Sirius' lips, and Harry was sure the thought never crossed his mind, Harry could swear that he could hear Sirius blaming him.

Deciding sleep was beyond him, Harry sat up, put on his glasses and stared at the alarm clock on his bedside table. Through the cracked face plate( a result of Dudley not wishing to get up one morning, and smashing it with one of his ham sized fists) he saw that is was just a little after three o'clock in the morning. Still, sleep would not come for him. If he could send an Owl to the Sandman for mercy, he would.

He got up and walked over to his desk that sat by the lone window in his room. The full moon shone brightly, illuminating the large owl cage that dominated it. His large white snow owl, Hedwig, was out hunting, so he quietly lifted the cage from the desk and set it on the floor, so as to not disturb his Uncle, who delighted in dressing Harry down for every perceived noise and slight he could think of. He would call them his family, but they were not. His true family were at their own homes this summer , and he probably would not see them again for a few more weeks yet.

The thought of his friends, Ron and Hermione, caused his chest to start hurting again. They, too, had been hurt in their ill advised assault on the Department of Mysteries. Ron had been attacked by 'killer brains', as he called them, while Hermione took a stunning spell to the chest that dropped her like a sack of bricks. He felt extremely guilty for them getting hurt, but they both assured him that it wasn't his fault, and they harbored him no ill will. Both seemed to go out of their way this summer to write to him, making him feel that much more guilty for not writing back as much.

Knowing that sleep would never come for him this night, Harry sat down to his desk and pulled out some fresh parchment and a quill. He really needed to write to his friends, but every time he tried lately, the words refused to come.

He stared out the window, contemplating the full moon. Harry's thought turned to Remus Lupin, his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Lupin was a werewolf, bitten back when he was a small child, and an old friend of Harry's father. He hoped that Lupin had taken his potion this night and was resting comfortably.

It must be a horrible thing, being a werewolf, Harry thought to himself. Everyone treats you differently and avoiding you for something that wasn't even your fault. Kind of like the Dursleys, the way they treat me, and just about most people in the wizarding world.

The Dursleys were Harry's guardians, unfortunately. Aunt Petunia was his mother's sister, and she, her husband Vernon, and son Dudley despised Harry and all things they considered abnormal. To them, wizards were the absolute definition of abnormal. The only reason Harry had to stay with them is that they were all the family he had left, and he was protected by living with them, in a strange sort of way. It had something to do with his mother sacrificing herself to save Harry when he was a baby. This formed a powerful magic that passed through Lilly Potter's bloodline, and unfortunately, Petunia Dursley was the closest one in that bloodline. She and the others treated Harry like he was something that they wiped off their shoes.

As for the wizarding world, they treated Harry in another sort of way. It was in a kind of awe and wonderment. Harry was the only known survivor of the Death Curse. It actually backfired toward the sender when it was fired at Harry when he was just a babe of twelve months or so. The only outward sign of the attack on Harry was his now famous lightning shaped scar.

The attacker just happened to be Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. Riddle had terrorized the wizarding world of many years, until his attack on Harry. The reflected curse didn't kill Riddle, but it came close enough. He was left as a specter of a sort. It was many years later that he was actually able to come back in a form that could pose a threat. Harry's guilt returned, because Riddle had actually used Harry's blood to come back.

Riddle had an insane hatred for nonmagical folk (called Muggles by wizards) and those wizards that were descended from such. This hatred stemmed from the fact he was half Muggle, his father leaving his mother before his birth when he discovered she was a witch. His mother died shortly after Tom's birth, causing him to spend his early years in a Muggle orphanage.

After attending Hogwart's School of Wizarding and Witchcraft, Tom hunted his father down and murdered him, as well as his grandparents. His war started then, with a vengeance. He was unstoppable until the night he tried to murder Harry.

Harry's mind came back to the present. He still was unable to put words to paper. He looked once more into the window, this time staring at his reflection. The month was taking it's toll on him. Lack of sleep had not been kind to him, for dark circles had formed around his eyes. His eyes seemed to not be as bright a green as they once had been. His skin was pale, and the oversized clothes that were handed down to him from Dudley fit even less well than before. Having no appetite, he ate very little, which seemed to not bother the Dursleys much at all. He was just a nuisance, wasn't he?
The jagged scar, his most identifiable feature, stood out even more so against his pale flesh. He looked a right royal mess.

Finally, he addressed the letter to Hermione and started to write about trivial things: the weather, what the classes would be like at Hogwart's this year, the silly stuff Dudley had done, ect. He purposely avoided the topics she brought up in her correspondence, namely, how he was doing. He did add just one more thing before he rolled up the scroll:

"I miss Snuffles"

He noticed that the last little bit of his writing had smeared, and that the page seemed a bit damp. He was so numb that he never noticed that the moisture came from the tears that were streaming down his face and falling on the parchment. He tried to write to Ron next, but it just didn't feel right.

He slowly stood from his chair and looked once more out the window, hoping beyond hope he would see a large black dog sitting out there, waiting for him. Harry's eyes were drawn by a slight movement of a shadow, as it passed across a neighbor's doorway, causing his heart to leap just a bit, before he saw the neighbor's cat bolt into the streetlight's glare. He cursed himself for getting his hopes up.

After a few moments, Harry walked over to furthest corner of his room and sat upon the floor. He crossed his legs and closed his eyes. He started to concentrate, but it seemed once more in vain. Sirius' death was the direct result, in his mind, at least, of Harry's failure to master the obscure art of Occlumency. It is an ancient art of defending one's mind from external penetration, and one that would have prevented Riddle ( Harry refused to call him Voldemort anymore. 'Riddle' was his hated father's name, so much more hurtful to Voldemort.) from planting the idea that Sirius was trapped. Harry continued to try to concentrate, when after about a hour, his head nodded to his chest, he slid sideways and fell into a restless sleep.

Several days had passed after he sent the message to Hermione, and yet there was no response. The Dursleys decided to go on holiday, and left Harry in the care of Mrs. Figg. Mrs. Figg was a strange old lady that Harry had just learned last year was a member of The Order of the Phoenix. She had been secretly looking after Harry since he was a small child on orders from Dumbledore. Though she had no magic of her own( she was a self admitted Squib), she did her job very well. She was the first one to see after Harry when Dementors had attacked he and his oafish cousin Dudley last summer.

Mrs. Figg was beside herself when she saw what condition Harry was in. She immediately started trying to feed him, but he refused most attempts at food, taking in only what was necessary to survive. She and her cats did everything they could to bring his spirits up.

"Please, Harry, try to eat! Here, I've made some Cauldron cakes for you. They're from my grandmother's recipe!"

"No, thank you, Mrs. Figg." Harry replied, "I'm not very hungry right now."

" Harry, you're going to make yourself ill!" she cried in exasperation. " Oh, Albus is going to kill me!"

The day before Harry's sixteenth birthday, The Dursleys returned from their holiday, and brought an unwelcome guest: Vernon's sister, Marge. The last time Harry had seen Marge was when she was floating out of the neighborhood after insulting Harry's parents. He had become quite angry and was unable to control his abilities. She had swollen up like the great blimp she truly was. Harry ran away from the house that night and had seen Sirius for the first time, though Sirius was transformed into a large, black dog at the time.

Uncle Vernon made it very clear that Harry was not to be in the house when Marge was. His face turned an interesting shade of purple when he told Harry what he would do to him if there was a repeat of the last incident. Harry just shrugged and went outside to sit in the garden, as usual. He had spent most of his days there, it seemed. The only time he went indoors much anymore was to try to get a little sleep. They never bothered him. Dudley had made it a point to be nowhere around Harry if he could help it. The aftereffects of the Dementor attack weighed heavily on Dudley. He no longer went out with his school buddies anywhere near evening hours, and his reaction to Harry was mixed. At times he would look at Harry in awe, then just as quick, with horror. It didn't bother Harry very much either way, as long as Dudley and the others would leave him alone, lack of attention is better than abuse any day.

The day had grown quite warm, and Harry sat alone in the garden once more. He had still not received any news from his friends since he had last written to them. Perhaps they were back living in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, he thought to himself, and they could not chance to write him back.

The sun had began it's slow descent toward the horizon, as evening started to creep into the picture. Harry had been in the garden all day, and was still seated in the dirt, with his back against the hot bricks when something began to creep it's way into his awareness. It was the sounds of footsteps on the sidewalk, and from what he could tell, they were approaching the house. He didn't care, however, it really didn't matter to him. It was probably Aunt Marge coming back from pampering that spoiled little dog of hers, he thought.

Harry heard the sound of voices as they floated around the corner, some of them were raised in alarm. All the voices sounded a bit familiar; still, he was too tired to care. The loud crash of the front door slamming brought Harry a little closer to the here and now, then he heard more footsteps come around the corner, then suddenly stop.

"Harry!" he heard a female voice call out, "Oh my God!!"

"Bloody Hell!" Harry heard another voice, this time male, exclaim.

Harry looked up slowly and saw two young people standing before him. It took him a few seconds to recognize who they were, and this finally brought him around.

"Ron?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse, "Hermione?"

Ron and Hermione were frozen on the spot, Harry's condition had totally stunned them. His skin was sallow, his eyes were dark and sunken, and his hair was more unruly than ever. He looked like Death warmed over.

"Oh, lord, Harry," cried Hermione, huge tears welling up in her eyes as she ran over to him and fell to her knees, "What have they done to you?"

"Nothing," Harry croaked, "They've done nothing at all."

"Yeah, right, sure they haven't!" said Ron sarcastically as he ran over and squatted beside his best friend. "Come on! This is the worst I've ever seen you! Have they been starving you again?"

"Nope," Harry replied slowly turning his head from side to side to face his friends. "It's all my fault. I killed Sirius. It's my fault he died! I'm to blame for you two getting hurt! You should hate me!" he said as he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his head between his arms. He started to cry and let the tears flow unchecked.

"We don't hate you!" said Ron softly. "You're our best friend." he reassured him as he put a hand on Harry's shoulder. A single tear slipped silently down Ron's cheek.

"Harry, it wasn't your fault," Hermione replied, softly yet adamantly, "V-Voldemort is entirely to blame. No one thinks it's your fault!" she added as she wrapped her arms around Harry and held him close. Ron joined in and the three of them sat there for a little while and had a good cry.

Harry seemed to feel a little bit better after sitting with his friends for a while. Ron and Hermione had finally convinced Harry to come out of the garden and to show them around the neighborhood. He had showed them Mrs. Figg's place when Ron noticed something strange.

"That's a weird post," Ron pointed out to Harry.

"Huh? Oh, that one?" Harry replied. "That's been there for as long as I can remember. It's just a regular corner marker."

The post was made of a solid black marble, had eight sides, and stood about three feet out of the ground. It was totally covered in small, strange markings. Ron was drawn to it, and started to leave Harry and Hermione behind. Exasperated, Hermione called out to Ron as she took Harry by the hand and dragged him over to Ron.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

"That is just too weird" Ron muttered to himself.

"What is 'weird'? " she asked.

Ron motioned to the stone. "This looks just like the one's outside the Burrows," he told her as she and Harry looked perplex. "Right down to the strange little birds on top here."

Hermione and Harry moved closer to the stone and looked to what Ron was pointing out. The bird shaped engraving had no rounded edges whatsoever, all the lines were angular, and the image was covered in more symbols. These were completely different from the ones covering the rest of the post.

Harry looked at Ron as if he were off his rocker. He had been to The Burrows several times and had never seen anything like the post there before and he told Ron so.

"Well, you wouldn't have, would you?" Ron replied. 'They were just recently installed. This big bloke all dressed in black showed up with my dad one day not long ago, and Professor Dumbledore was with them!"

"They performed some sort of ritual I had never heard of before," interjected Hermione.

"The wicked thing was, four huge black stones, just like these," Ron said as he patted the post, "fell from the sky and buried themselves in the ground until they looked just like this!"

"Go ahead and tell Harry the best part," urged Hermione.

"Yeah!" beamed Ron, "We got to go home! The place is protected from You-Know-Who and his army of gits!"

"Wow, really?" exclaimed Harry, brightening up more than he had all summer. "That's great, Ron!"

"Too right, it is!" said Ron. "I was getting tired of not sleeping in my own bed! You-Know-Where is a larger and nicer place, but I do miss home! And we don't have a bloody painting that you have to tiptoe around!" he pointed out, describing the most irritating feature of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It was the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and the former home of the Black family, and contained a painting of Sirius Black's mother that seemed to love to scream at anyone not of pureblood.

" What I want to know is," Harry said, showing some interest in something for the first time since starting summer break, "how can an ordinary corner post keep Death Eaters away?"

" I wouldn't be so sure about it being ordinary, Harry," Hermione said as she peered closer to the post, "not with these markings."

"What about the markings?" asked Ron.

"Well, you recognize them, don't you?" replied Hermione. The boys just shook their heads.

" Honestly!" she sighed. " These are Nordic Runes, you know?" Both Ron and Harry still had blank looks on their faces.

" Runes are a magical alphabet," Hermione said as she put on her best teaching demeanor, " I take Ancient Runes at Hogwarts. They help to tell the future, and act as protective symbols and such. I think that is what these do, they act as a protective barrier. Ron, how many did you say are around The Burrows?"

"Four, I think," Ron said, raising his eyebrows and looking pensively toward Harry, who just shrugged his shoulders.

"Harry, have you seen any more of these around the neighborhood?" Hermione asked as she started to pace back and forth, deep in thought.

"Sure," Harry replied, " Like I said, they are just common corner markers. There is one about two blocks that way," he pointed toward the east, "and at least two more back behind the houses back there" he motioned south.

" That means the Dursley's place is exactly in the middle of the square," she said as she came to a stop. " Harry, I think we should not go any further in the direction we were walking, we ought to head back."

"Why?" asked Ron and Harry simultaneously.

Hermione just rolled her eyes." These are ley stones," she said to them as one would explain things to a three year old, "They form a shield of sorts around your house, Harry. These are what keep V-Voldemort and his Death Eaters out!"

"Whoa," whistled Ron softly.

"Where did the Dementors attack you and Dudley?" Hermione inquired.

"About a block pasted this post, right over there," Harry motioned forward.

"Oy! That tears it! We need to head back right now, I think!" Ron exclaimed, much to the agreement of the others. They quickly turned back and headed back to the Dursley's place.

It was well after dark when the three of them returned to the Dursley's house. Harry heard a rather lively discussion going on in the kitchen when they opened the front door and went in. Uncle Vernon's boisterous voice boomed from behind the kitchen door, by far the loudest. However, not to be outdone, a female voice almost matched Uncle Vernon's in volume.

Harry's eyes went wide as he recognized the lady's voice, and he looked over to Ron and Hermione, who both nodded to confirm his suspicions. The voice belonged to Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts, and head of Gryffindor House. Harry had never thought that Professor McGonagall would ever visit this place. She must be taking her promise to help him become an Auror seriously. Harry had thought she had just said that to get back at Dolores Umbridge, last year.

As he opened the kitchen door, Harry and the others were treated to a truly strange site. Remus Lupin was seated at the table, speaking quietly to Aunt Petunia, with his cousin Dudley sitting at the other end of the table, looking extremely pale and pensive.

The real show was Uncle Vernon and Professor McGonagall, both standing on opposite sides of the table, yet their faces were mere inches from each other. Uncle Vernon's face was the color of a stoplight, and the whiskers of his mustache stood straight out, reminding Harry of nothing less than the tail end of a flying broom. Vernon was shouting loud enough to wake the dead, five counties away.

Professor McGonagall wasn't much better, though. Her eyes were wide in anger, and her glasses were perched on the very tip of her nose. The hair on the back of her neck stood up much like that of the cat into which she could transform herself. Had her hair not been worked into a nice tight bun, Harry was sure that it all would be standing on end. The red of her face contrasted nicely with the emerald green of her robes, reminding Harry of a great living Christmas tree.

This thought brought a smile on Harry's face, one of the first in weeks. He quickly covered the smile up, however, to keep the two combatants from having any reason to turn their rage upon him. It was too late, though, for a few seconds after he had opened the door, they had both spun to see who had entered.

The reaction of the two could not have been any further apart. Uncle Vernon locked eyes with Harry, then looked at both Ron and Hermione in turn. His anger grew visible worse, if that was at all possible.

"POTTER!! I warned you I wanted you out of the house when Marge is here, and now some of your freakish friends show up!" screamed Uncle Vernon. " Tell these….these…these weirdoes to leave at once, before I call the constables! They don't seem to listen to decent people!"

" Oh dear!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall as she saw Harry's condition. All the color drained from her face as she rushed over and stood before Harry. "Mr. Potter, what has happened to you?"

"Harry, are you okay?," asked Lupin, who had left the table and walked over to Harry as soon as Harry had walked into the kitchen.

"Really, now!" barked Vernon, " you freaks must leave now before my sister returns! She must not learn that we are forced to associate with filth such as you! It could ruin our standing in the community!"

Professor McGonagall spun on her heel "How dare you speak to us like that! We are not the ones who have obviously abused this boy, you small little man!" she screeched at him. "What have you done to this child?!"

"They haven't done anything, Professor," said Harry before Uncle Vernon could reply.

"There! You see! He admits we have done nothing to him! NOW GET OUT!!"

"That, Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall, now trembling with rage , "is pure poppycock!! They have obviously been starving you again! How can anyone be so cruel to their own kin?"

Uncle Vernon puffed up larger than Harry had ever seen before, "Now see here, you sorry cow….."

"Why, you oversized lump of…."started Professor McGonagall.

A scream shattered the fight. All eyes turned to the table, where Aunt Petunia had turned deathly white, her eyes wide as saucers . She sat trembling at the table, and with one hand, pointed toward the kitchen window. A dark shadow passed quickly from view. Professor McGonagall drew in a quick little gasp, then turned to Harry and the others.

"Mr. Potter, please take Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley upstairs to your room and let them help get you ready to leave this horrid place. We're taking you home tonight."

"Yes, ma'am," replied Harry as he looked at Lupin, who had turned even more pale than usual. Harry ushered Ron and Hermione out the door and toward the stairs.

"You to, Dudley-dinkins," said Petunia in a shaky voice, "Go to the living room and watch the telly for a bit." Dudley moved faster than Harry had ever seen him move before in his entire life.

Harry lead his two friends up the stairs toward his room, "It may take a while, I wasn't ready to leave just yet. I thought I was still stuck here for a few more weeks."

"That's okay, Harry. Besides, Hermione has never been to your room before, you can show her around a bit."

"Er..," coughed Hermione, "Ron, a girl is not supposed to see the inside a of a boy's bedroom," she said gently, though she was blushing a bit at the thought.

" Oh. Er.. Right you are, Hermione! Uh, my mistake." replied Ron, as his ears turned red with embarrassment.

"Besides," Harry called back to them as they climbed the stairs, grinning at his friends' conversation, "there's not really much to see. I just have to pack a bit. I promise, nothing will bite," he added.

Harry opened the door to his room and stopped suddenly. His eyes bugged out a bit when he saw the condition of his room. He hadn't cared how bad things had gotten this summer, and now he grew to regret it.

"Er, please excuse the mess," Harry stammered as Ron and Hermione followed him into the room. "I haven't felt very good lately," he stated meekly.

"Blimey, Harry! This is a work of art!," Ron said with admiration as he clasped Harry on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. Hermione made a strange noise that seemed to be a choked back response mixed with an outburst of laughter. She turned her head and coughed a bit to cover it up.

The floor was covered in Harry's clothing, both Muggle and wizard, along with various school books and bits of crumpled parchment. The bed was unmade, of course, and the top of the desk was obscured by used quills, unrolled scrolls, inkbottles in various stages of fullness, and a birdcage that contained one large, white, and very unhappy snow owl, who was currently squawking her displeasure at Harry.

"Oh no! Hedwig! I'm so sorry!" Harry said to his irritated friend, "I forgot to let you out!"

"Kinda late to do it now, letting her out," said Ron as he walked toward Harry, "she'll just have to stay in her cage until…JEEZE!!"

Ron had tripped over something concealed by a large pile of clothing, fell into Harry, who in turn fell into Hedwig's cage, eliciting a rather raucous response from her. Hermione knelt down and retrieved the object that Ron had tripped on: Harry's Firebolt racing broom. She stood there holding it with an impatient look on her face as Ron and Harry fought to untangle themselves. Harry looked at her, shamefaced, and shrugged.

"I'm sorry. I swear, normally it isn't this bad….." he stammered.

Hermione's expression softened. "It's alright, Harry. Come on, let's get you packed up!"

" Yeah, let's!" added Ron as he got back to his feet and started picking up, "The sooner we get it done, the sooner we can….ARRRGH!!"

Ron stood up suddenly and started to wildly shake his arm. His face was turning an astounding shade of red, almost to the point of matching his hair. Harry and Hermione tried to get him to stop and tell them what was wrong, but he continued to dance and jump around as if he had a Hungarian Horntail in his shorts.

" For Pete's sakes!" cried Hermione, "Ron, hold still!"

"Getitoffgetitoffgetitoff!!!!" yelled Ron, extremely impatiently.

"Oof! Got him!" exclaimed Harry as he grabbed Ron by the waist from behind, knocking Harry's glasses off in the process.

"Ron...hold...still!" commanded Hermione as she finally grabbed his arm to see what was the problem. Upon discovering the cause of the commotion, she broke out in a fit of the giggles.

"Ow! Bloody hell! It's not funny!" barked Ron as Hermione finally managed to get the offending object from Ron's hand. It fell to the floor with a large thud.

"What was it?" asked Harry as he released Ron and bent over to retrieve his glasses.

"Watch out, Harry!" warned Hermione, " I don't wish to go through that again!"

"What was it?" insisted Ron, massaging his sore hand.

"This book," replied Hermione as she picked it up and gently stroked it's spine. Harry put his glasses back on and peered at the book cradled in Hermione's hands. It was Harry's copy of The Monster Book of Monsters.

" How did that ruddy thing get out?!" wondered Ron. Harry just looked to his feet and collapsed into his desk chair.

"I've done it again," Harry said to the floor, "I've ended up hurting my friends again!" Tears threatened the corners of his eyes.

"Aw, don't worry about it," Ron said, trying to console his friend. "What's a few book bites between friends?" he added with a smile. Harry just shook his head.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said, " we need to get you packed." She shot a worried to look toward Ron, who was wearing an equal look on his face.

Together, the two of them managed to get Harry back up and going, and before too long, the packing was finished. They were about to head back downstairs when the volume of the conversations below were raised significantly.

"Wonder what that's all about?" queried Ron.

"No telling,' replied Hermione, " it must be something secret to have sent us up here to packing thing by ourselves."

" Guess we'll never know," said Harry with a shrug.

"Wanna bet?" said Ron with a grin, as he pulled three items from is pocket. They were Weasley's Extendable Ears, invented by Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George. The two of them sold them in their joke shop in Hogsmeade village, and were a very popular item. They sold most of their stock to student of Hogwarts and reporters for The Daily Prophet.

"Yes!" exclaimed Hermione as she quickly snatched one from Ron and fitted it to her ear.

"I think we've been a bad influence on her!" said Ron shamelessly as he handed the other Ear to Harry.

"Yeah, we better stop or her parents won't let her play with us anymore!" added Harry. He and Ron snickered.

"Oh, hush you two!" retorted Hermione, who then stuck her tongue out at them. The two boys broke out in laughter.

"Shhh!" she whispered as she, Harry and Ron crept out to the stairs and lowered the Ears, allowing them to find their way to the bottom of the kitchen door. As the Ears reached their destination, the three of them were startled to hear a fifth, and unfamiliar, voice.

"…had I known you would have treated him as poorly as you have, I would have taken him myself!!" boomed the strange voice. It was deep and resonating, as if born for command.

"We treated him well enough!" retorted Aunt Petunia, "We fed him, clothed him, and sheltered him!"

"HA!" screeched Professor McGonagall, " You've starved him! You locked him in a closet for years and called it his room, while letting your son have TWO rooms of his own!" At this, the three eavesdroppers heard a strange growling sound. Harry hoped that Professor Lupin wasn't undergoing an attack of Lycanthropy.

"His clothes are obvious hand-me-downs from your son," calmly stated Lupin, "they are about five sizes too large."

"And as for feeding him," raged McGonagall, "he's nothing but skin and bones! Your son is the apparent size of a beached whale!!"

Harry and the others giggles a bit at the description of Dudley.
"That's an insult to whales everywhere, that is!" snickered Ron, to which Hermione slugged him on the shoulder.

"Now see here!" bellowed Uncle Vernon, " You just watch how you speak about my son!"

"Be silent, Dursley," commanded the strange voice.

"This is MY house! You will not speak to me in that fashion!"

"I'll say once more, Dursley, be silent!" growled the voice, which was followed by a large thump.

"You remember, do you not," Lupin's calm voice interjected, "why you agreed to take Harry in? You gave Dumbledore your word."

"What's he on about, Petunia?" demanded Uncle Vernon.

McGonagall's voice piped up, "She should remember! It has kept her family safe now for fifteen years."

"I remember," said Aunt Petunia so softly that the three upstairs had to strain to hear her.

"Your safety depends on Harry, just as his depends on you," Lupin said. This startled Harry, as the other two looked at him. He just shrugged his shoulders.

"Just what does that mean?" thundered Uncle Vernon. "You mean to tell me that freakish little snot protects us?! You have to be kidding! I believe that I have heard more than enough!" Ron and Hermione winced at Vernon's description of Harry. For Harry's part, he just stared out into space. They heard the growling once more.

" Ask your wife! She knows the truth of the matter!" stated McGonagall as fact.

"It's true," Aunt Petunia said flatly.

"Oh really?" sneered Vernon, "How does that little freak protect us?"

More growling followed Vernon's outburst. Hermione was almost in tears over the terms being used to describe her friend. Ron gently patted her hand, which made her smile a bit. Harry didn't seemed phased at all, but he was concerned for Hermione.

" It's okay," he said reassuring her, "I'm used to it."

"It's not right, Harry! It's so cruel!" she hissed as a tear fell to the carpet. Ron sadly shook his head.

" I grew up with it, I've not known anything else until I met you lot." replied Harry, who smiled at the memory of meeting them. Hermione's eyes, though glistening with tears, flashed anger at the situation.

" The man who murdered Harry's parents, Lord Voldemort, doesn't just murder people, he murders their families as well," stated Lupin.

"Especially after they have fought as hard against him as Lilly and James had," added McGonagall.

"Even though Voldemort was nearly destroyed in his attempt to murder Harry, his followers would have tracked him down and murdered everyone in this house if it wasn't for the blood magic…."

"DO NOT USE THAT WORD IN MY HOUSE!!" yelled Uncle Vernon at the top of his lungs, "There is no such thing as magic! It is nothing but tricks used by you freaks and weirdoes to……urrk!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione jumped at the sound of a large crash in the kitchen, followed by a very large thump and the sound of metal scraping. The three of them looked at each other in alarm.

"We should get down there and see what's going on," Harry stated.

"Are you crazy?" asked Ron as he grabbed Harry's arm to keep him in place. "That's the sound of a fight, that is, and there is no way we should get in the middle of it!"

"Not to sound too alarmist," piped up Hermione, "but I think that was the sound of a sword. I agree with Ron, we should just stay right here."

"A sword?!" the two boys said in unison.

"I know, it sounds farfetched," Hermione said, kind of sheepishly, " I think it is safer to stay up here."

"Agreed." added Ron.

"I warned you, Dursley," the strange voice said evenly and softly, "to hold your tongue, or I shall hold it for you!"

"Oh dear," interjected Professor McGonagall, "Lord Thunder, please, release him! Do not do anything you may regret."

"This, I would not regret," Lord Thunder said with conviction and in a voice filled with righteous anger. "The world would be a better place without this waste."

"Please, let him go!" pleaded Petunia.

"At this point, I care not for the blood magic that protects you and yours," added Thunder, "My only concern is for Harry! I would gladly lay down my life for him, if only to remove him from the abuse he has had to endure!"

"Lord Thunder," Lupin called softly, " I understand how you feel, but you know there cannot be one without the other. His mother's sacrifice set it, it cannot be undone."

"Harry is family! I cannot abide him staying in these conditions any longer! The very thought of him ever returning here makes me ill! I have watched my cousin this past month and have done nothing, as Dumbledore has bid me to, but I can watch no longer! He must be removed from this festering boil they call a home!"

Harry's eyes went wide with shock. He had another cousin?! He had been watching over him for the past month?! Harry just could not believe it. Ron and Hermione both turned and stared at him, trying to judge his reaction and finding it hard to believe the news themselves.

"You had other family out there all along and they let you still live with the Dursleys? That is just so wrong!" exclaimed Ron in a hoarse whisper.

"Ron, they may have had no choice!" piped in Hermione, "Harry, what do they mean about this 'blood magic' they are on about?"

"It's something Professor Dumbledore told me," explained Harry, " That my mother's sacrifice to save me from Riddle had set some sort of magic, both in my blood and through her bloodline that would protect us from Riddle and his Death Eaters. I lost the protection of my blood when it was used to bring him back, but the magic in the bloodline still works, it seems."

"Riddle?" Ron and Hermione asked together. Harry told them he refused to call him 'Voldemort' any longer. They both looked at him with amazement and a bit of confusion. He just shook his head and started listening again.

"Please, Lord Thunder, let him go!" pleaded Aunt Petunia once more.

"Very well," stated Thunder calmly, " but you must tell him the truth! Leave nothing out!"

"Yes, My Lord," she replied weakly. Harry was surprised to hear the defeat in her voice. A very large thump followed quickly.

"What is he talking about?" stammered Uncle Vernon.

"Go ahead," urged Lupin gently, "there is nothing to fear from the truth."

"Ha!" snorted Petunia, followed by the growl once more.

"Petunia!" growled Thunder. Silence reigned for a moment before she spoke once more.

"I have told you before, Vernon, that Lilly was the first witch in my family, and that I saw her as the freak she was. That was a lie. She was the first witch in about ten generations on my father's side of the family. He was so happy when her power came into being."

"Go on," urged McGonagall.

"On my mother's side, however," continued Petunia, "well, that's a completely different story. Her side had nothing but freaks in it until my mother was born. She was normal. The wizards called her a 'squib', which is someone born of magical parents, but having no magic. It really hurt her to not be like the rest of her family. My grandmother was an extremely powerful witch, you see, and she so wanted to be like her."

"Whaaaaaaaat?" gasped Vernon.

"Continue," commanded Thunder.

"Mother and Father met and married, and had Lilly and I. She hoped her 'curse' would not be passed down to us. She could tell from birth which of us would be magical. She just had to look at our eyes. I took after father, I have no magic whatsoever. Lilly, however, took after our grandmother, right down to her bright green eyes."

There was silence for a moment before Petunia continued, "You see, it is the eyes that mark the witches and wizards in Mother's family. They all have the same bright green eyes. Lilly had them, and that is how I knew Harry as one as well. He has his mother's eyes."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat listening, enraptured. That explained why everyone commented on his eyes, Harry thought to himself. He looked over to his friends, both of whom sat there in stunned silence. The voices picked up once again.

"Mother and father were both thrilled that Lilly had married that Potter fellow, and had a son by him. They both died soon after Harry's birth. I have kept this secret this whole time, hoping that this would never darken my door ever again. However, Lilly and James were killed and we were saddled with their brat. I tried everything I could to force the magic from him, but it never worked!"

" B-b-but what does that mean? Is Dudley a freak too?" stuttered Vernon.

" No, your son has no magic," replied Thunder, "other than increasing his size every time he sits at a table!" Harry and the others laughed out loud at the retort.

"Hmm," mused Thunder, "It seems young ears have a far reach."

Harry and the others bolted upright as Thunder made his announcement, and started reeling in the Ears as they heard the kitchen door open. Harry was almost done with the Ear when he saw a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. Spinning around, he stared into his empty bedroom.

"What's wrong, Harry?' asked Ron.

"I could have sworn I saw something move," he replied.

"Well, there's nothing here now," answered Hermione as they quickly ducked into Harry's room as the footsteps drew closer. She and the other started grabbing Harry's things as Remus Lupin appeared in the doorway.

"All packed, now?" he asked.

"Yes sir, ready to go!" replied Harry as he grabbed Hedwig's cage in one hand and his trunk with the other.

"Hang on, Harry," said Ron as he reached over and grabbed the other handle of the trunk.

It didn't take them very long at all to get Harry's stuff downstairs and out onto the front step. Harry made one last look around his room, seeing if he had missed anything when he saw a new parchment sitting on his desk. It was rolled tight and sealed with a wax stamp, emblazoned upon it was a highly stylized 'T'.

"You can read it when we get you to The Burrows," Lupin told him as he walked up behind him. Harry looked around in confusion.

"What's wrong, Mr. Potter?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Professor, was there anyone else with you this evening?"

"Indeed there was," she replied, "but he had some urgent business he had to attend to." Harry looked a little sad at the news. Professor McGonagall's expression softened a bit at seeing this.

"Don't worry, Harry, I suspect you'll be seeing him soon enough," she whispered to him. This seemed to cheer him up somewhat. "Now. Let's get you out of this place and get you fed!"

"Yes, ma'am" Harry replied, feeling hunger come upon him for the first time in over a month.

They packed all Harry's stuff into the trunk a car Harry had never seen before, but realized it was enchanted much like the Ford Anglia Ron's father had owned several years ago. All of Harry's stuff fit with plenty of room to spare, and he, Hermione, and Ron crawled into the back seat as Lupin and McGonagall took their places upfront.

"Now, everyone buckle up," called out Lupin as he shifted the car into Flight mode, turned on the Invisibility Charm, and took off into the sky, winging Harry from the pit that was the Dursley's house, and taking him to a place that was much more of a home to him: The Burrows.

All that was left behind was a thoroughly confused Vernon, a wilted Petunia, and a fearful Dudley.