AN: Hey firstly I'm glad you guys are liking what you read, I'm sorry it me so long, not including the actual book, what I wrote was actually longer than both my first and second chapter combined. I think my exams went ok, I just hope I got enough to get onto the course I want for next year, but thank you all for wishing me luck.
I totally agree Lady Luna Riddle about Molly Weasley, I mean its great that she's trying to protect them but she goes to extremes that actually endanger them more than protect them.
Anniriel I think that there will sometimes where Sirius and Remus do get to know about his first and second years - I've already mentioned the Chamber of Secrets which is something Remus made a mental note to ask about. I want the information to come out to them in parts though as I don't want just a load of information being thrown at them. But the first thing I want to come out is Harry's home life as I never understood why the blood wards provide more protection than the fidelius charm.
Kitty279 you're so far my favourite reviewer, someone after my own heart lol. I like the long reviews people so don't be shy, even if it isn't all positive (but please be positive as this is my only story :))
I don't own anything ... probably ;)
"Dudley Demented," Dumbledore began again.
The hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive. Cars that were usually gleaming stood dusty in their drives and lawns that were once emerald green lay parched and yellowing; the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought. Deprived of their usual car-washing and lawn-mowing pursuits, the inhabitants of Privet Drive had retreated into the shade of their cool houses, windows thrown wide in the hope of tempting in a nonexistent breeze. The only person left outdoors was a teenage boy who was lying flat on his back in a flowerbed outside number four.
Ginny asked, "Why were you in the flowerbed Harry?"
"I was listening to the news because I wasn't getting it from anywhere else." Harry simply stated with only a faint trace of bitterness underlying it. Pre-empting the question that Ginny just opened her mouth to ask he said, "There was no chance of listening to the news in the same room as my Aunt and Uncle at the time but I'm sure if we read it'll be explained."
He was a skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a short space of time. His jeans were torn and dirty, his T-shirt baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers.
To this Harry saw in his peripheral vision Sirius turning to really look at his appearance. Harry was wearing a pair of too-large jeans and a jumper that was only 2 sizes too big for him, the sleeves of which were dotted with holes. He was glad when Sirius didn't question him on his attire but had the sneaky suspicion that he was going to be asked about it later.
Harry Potter's appearance did not endear him to the neighbours, who were the sort of people who thought scruffiness ought to be punishable by law,
"You know Harry, they're probably only saying that because Twittlebys were around," said Luna, "they make people see mess as a bad thing, but they only live a couple feet above the lowest surface, it's the reason daddy built our house on top of a hill."
Everyone barring those who already knew the Lovegoods stared at her, not sure if she was serious or not; Moody's normal eye looking at her suspiciously.
"Thank you for letting me know that Luna, has your farther, the editor of the Quibbler," Harry added in to explain to the others her strange remarks, "done an article on them before?"
"Oh yes, there was one published at the beginning of the summer, they seem more prominent then, I suppose it's because they like the heat."
but as he had hidden himself behind a large hydrangea bush this evening he was quite invisible to passers-by. In fact, the only way he would be spotted was if his Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia stuck their heads out of the living-room window and looked straight down into the flowerbed below.
On the whole, Harry thought he was to be congratulated on his idea of hiding here.
"Congratulations!" The twins cheered.
He was not, perhaps, very comfortable lying on the hot, hard earth but, on the other hand, nobody was glaring at him, grinding their teeth so loudly that he could not hear the news, or shooting nasty questions at him, as had happened every time he had tried sitting down in the living room to watch television with his aunt and uncle.
Almost as though this thought had fluttered through the open window, Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle, suddenly spoke.
"Glad to see the boy's stopped trying to butt in. Where is he, anyway?"
"The boy?" questioned Mrs Weasley.
"It's what they call me, have done for as long as I remember so it's not a big deal."
Mrs Weasley looked rather upset at this comment. "But it is a big deal, you're their nephew, even when you're not around they should at least call you by your name."
Harry shared an incredulous look with Ron before saying, "Mrs Weasley, these are the same people who put bars on my window and were starving me 4 summers ago. I don't know why you expect better manners from them after your sons told you that when we got to the Burrow. You've seen them at the station too, I really don't know why you're finding that so shocking."
Mrs Weasley seemed to grow paler and paler with each word Harry spoke to her. Fred and George were looking at him in awe at not only having talked back to their mother but also defending their past actions. Ron's head was bowed but it seemed like he was trying to keep a smirk off his face – he knew the Dursleys were horrible people and having been one of the people to rescue him that summer saw firsthand that this was the case. Ron also knew that Harry hated talking about his home life and the only reason he'd brought it up now was to hopefully shut his mum up for the rest of the chapter. Hermione and Ginny who both knew Harry's relations weren't nice people but had never heard of this before looked rather upset by this revelation; however this was nothing on Sirius.
"You knew?" Sirius asked in a dangerously low voice. "You knew and never did anything about it? You say that I'm the irresponsible one! I've always listened to what Harry has to say, I –"
"Sirius, I think you've made your point and I'm sure that if Molly thought for one second that it was true she would have done something about it." Remus interrupted.
The strain of everything that had happened seemed to catch up with her as she said, "Of course I would have but … I thought the boys were exaggerating and making stuff up trying to justify why they had stolen the car. Oh I'm so sorry Harry."
"It really isn't me that you should be apologising to."
Mrs Weasley looked at Fred, George and Ron before apologising. The twins looked like they'd been hit around the head while Ron's ears turned bright red.
"S'okay mum." Ron mumbled still looking down at the table.
"Yeah, it's fine" said Fred.
"But we would like it if you had a little more faith in us in the future" George answered.
Fred, seeing where George was going with it said, "That's true. We wouldn't lie or anything about something so serious."
"Yes, of course boys, thank you."
Dumbledore looked at the interaction with twinkling eyes before Sirius turned and started talking to him.
"He's not going back Dumbledore, this place has fidelius charm so this place is certainly well protected."
"I'm sorry Sirius but as I've said before, Harry needs to go back to Privet Drive for at least a little while each summer for the blood wards." His tone rang with an unspoken authority but it was obvious that Sirius was still going to argue Harry's case so Dumbledore resumed reading.
"I don't know," said Aunt Petunia, unconcerned. "Not in the house."
Uncle Vernon grunted.
"Watching the news…" he said scathingly."I'd like to know what he's really up to. As if a normal boy cares what's on the news - Dudley hasn't got a clue what's going on; doubt he knows who the Prime Minister is! Anyway, it's not as if there'd be anything about his lot on our news–"
"Vernon, shh!" said Aunt Petunia. "The window's open!"
"Oh - yes - sorry, dear."
The Dursleys fell silent. Harry listened to a jingle about Fruit 'n' Bran breakfast cereal while he watched Mrs. Figg, a batty cat-loving old lady from nearby Wisteria Walk, amble slowly past.
Tonks couldn't help the snort that accompanied that statement, alleviating some of the left over tension from before. Remus turned to his left, "And what, may I ask, do you find funny?"
She just grinned and said, "I just loved Arabella's description is all."
She was frowning and muttering to herself.
"Well that certainly wasn't helping her case on the batty side of things" Tonks joked.
Harry was very pleased he was concealed behind the bush, as Mrs. Figg had recently taken to asking him around for tea whenever she met him in the street. She had rounded the corner and vanished from view before Uncle Vernon's voice floated out of the window again.
"Dudders out for tea?"
"Dudders!" exclaimed the twins, picking up their old stride. Sirius, Tonks, Ron, Ginny and Neville joined the twins in their laughter whilst everyone else just smiled at them, with the obvious exceptions.
"At the Polkisses'," said Aunt Petunia fondly. "He's got so many little friends, he's so popular."
Harry suppressed a snort with difficulty.
"Why?"
"You'll see."
The Dursleys really were astonishingly stupid about their son, Dudley. They had swallowed all his dim-witted lies about having tea with a different member of his gang every night of the summer holidays. Harry knew perfectly well that Dudley had not been to tea anywhere; he and his gang spent every evening vandalizing the play park, smoking on street corners and throwing stones at passing cars and children.
"What terrible children" McGonagall said surprisingly.
Harry had seen them at it during his evening walks around Little Whinging; he had spent most of the holidays wandering the streets, scavenging newspapers from bins along the way.
The opening notes of the music that heralded the seven o'clock news reached Harry's ears and his stomach turned over. Perhaps tonight - after a month of waiting - would be the night.
Ron and Hermione shot apologetic looks at Harry, remembering what he had told them when he first arrived at Grimmauld Place. Harry simply shook his head at them knowing it wasn't really their fault and it wasn't like they didn't know anything now.
Neville however didn't have this same understanding as the others and so asked, "What are you waiting for Harry?"
"I wasn't being told anything about Voldemort and The Prophet obviously wasn't saying anything so I had to resort to listening to the muggle news for information."
Sirius scooted his chair closer to Harry's and put an arm around the back of his chair. Harry looked up at Sirius, giving him a small smile, letting him know that he didn't blame him for the lack of information.
"Record numbers of stranded holiday makers fill air ports as the Spanish baggage-handlers' strike reaches its second week –"
"Give 'em a lifelong siesta, I would," snarled Uncle Vernon over the end of the newsreader's sentence, but no matter: outside in the flowerbed, Harry's stomach seemed to unclench.
Luna asked suddenly, "Are you alright Harry? That sounded quite painful."
"Yes thank you Luna, it really didn't hurt at all." Harry couldn't help smiling indulgingly at her.
If anything had happened, it would surely have been the first item on the news; death and destruction were more important than stranded holidaymakers.
He let out a long, slow breath and stared up at the brilliant blue sky. Every day this summer had been the same: the tension, the expectation, the temporary relief, and then mounting tension again… and always, growing more insistent all the time, the question of why nothing had happened yet.
He kept listening, just in case there was some small clue, not recognized for what it really was by the Muggles - an unexplained disappearance, perhaps, or some strange accident… but the baggage-handlers' strike was followed by news about the drought in the Southeast ("I hope he's listening next door!" bellowed Uncle Vernon. "Him with his sprinklers on at three in the morning!"), then a helicopter that had almost crashed in a field in Surrey, then a famous actress's divorce from her famous husband ("As if we're interested in their sordid affairs," sniffed Aunt Petunia, who had followed the case obsessively in every magazine she could lay her bony hands on).
Harry closed his eyes against the now blazing evening sky as the newsreader said, "-and finally, Bungy the budgie has found a novel way of keeping cool this summer. Bungy, who lives at the Five Feathers in Barnsley, has learned to water ski! Mary Dorkins went to find out more."
"Hmm, my dearest twin"
"Yes, George?"
"Of course, but I think more research should be done first."
"Yes that was what I was thinking too, but definitely to be done to our beloved Inquisitor?"
"Without a doubt."
"Fred, George, I forbid you from doing whatever you're planning" said Mrs Weasley sternly, to which they just smiled innocently back at her.
Harry opened his eyes. If they had reached water-skiing budgerigars, there would be nothing else worth hearing. He rolled cautiously on to his front and raised himself on to his knees and elbows, preparing to crawl out from under the window.
He had moved about two inches when several things happened in very quick succession.
"What?" cried Neville leaning forwards.
A loud, echoing crack broke the sleepy silence like a gunshot; a cat streaked out from under a parked car and flew out of sight; a shriek, a bellowed oath and the sound of breaking china came from the Dursleys' living room, and as though this was the signal Harry had been waiting for he jumped to his feet, at the same time pulling from the waistband of his jeans a thin wooden wand as if he were unsheathing a sword
"Good reactions laddie, the world could do with a few more people like you" growled Moody whilst Tonks and Kingsley nodded in agreement.
Harry couldn't help but blush at the praise, so of course Tonks leaned slightly across the table before stage whispering, "He was rather impressed with you when we came to collect you, wouldn't let me live it down that someone almost 10 years than me was more vigilant. Although you did let yourself down with the elementary wand safety." To which she then withdrew her wand gave him a quick wink before slipping it behind her ear.
"Tonks!" barked Moody.
"Yes?" She replied with a look of quizzical innocence that Harry could only dream of achieving, one that the twins had perfected except hers was believable. Moody looked like he was able to burst into a lecture but before he could, Remus slid the wand out from behind her ear, placed it in her hand and smirking slightly said, "I don't think now is the best time to aggravate Moody."
Remus and the others couldn't help but chuckle at her disappointed pout as she stowed her wand back in her pocket.
- but before he could draw himself up to full height, the top of his head collided with the Dursleys' open window.
The resultant crash made Aunt Petunia scream even louder.
Harry felt as though his head had been split in two. Eyes streaming, he swayed, trying to focus on the street to spot the source of the noise, but he had barely staggered upright when two large purple hands reached through the open window and closed tightly around his throat.
"What!" almost everyone exclaimed, the previous laughter forgotten.
"He's strangling you!" Molly Weasley shouted.
"Harry, has he ever done something like that before?" Sirius asked, turning Harry's head to look at him.
"No, I mean it use to be Dudley that would bully me as a kid, but I usually got away. He doesn't dare do that now because he's too scared of magic." Harry said trying to reassure him. It was true that his Uncle never hit him except from the occasional clouts round the head but Harry felt it best not to mention when his Uncle pin him up against the wall while he was threatening him, nor that his arms were constantly bruised from where he'd been grabbed and definitely didn't want to say about the times where he was simply thrown across a room or into his cupboard and that one time when this happened he had hit his head against the wall and knocked himself out. Harry knew Sirius would want to know but he didn't want to him to feel guilty as he knew he would for not being there for Harry as he grew up. He couldn't bare the looks of sympathy and horror that would surely be on the majority of everyone's faces, and most of all he knew it would all be for naught as Dumbledore would still end up sending him back there.
Sirius looked Harry straight in the eye before nodding and releasing him, before pulling him into his side. Harry looked down thoroughly embarrassed but also sensing that Sirius didn't fully believe him and that the nod was for the benefit of the room, he suspected it would be another thing Sirius would be talking to him about later.
"Put - it-away!" Uncle Vernon snarled into Harry's ear. "Now! Before- anyone - sees!"
"Get - off - me!" Harry gasped. For a few seconds they struggled, Harry pulling at his uncle's sausage-like fingers with his left hand, his right maintaining a firm grip on his raised wand; then, as the pain in the top of Harry's head gave a particularly nasty throb, Uncle Vernon yelped and released Harry as though he had received an electric shock. Some invisible force seemed to have surged through his nephew, making him impossible to hold.
"Accidental magic?" Lupin asked temporarily surprised out of the anger that had filled him while reading.
Harry nodded mutely before saying, "it happens sometimes."
"Really?" Hermione questioned diverted, "I've never heard of someone over the age of eleven doing that. What does it mean?"
"I believe Miss Granger, that it means Harry is a rather powerful wizard." Dumbledore said smiling over the top of the book as Harry turned a Weasley red.
Panting, Harry fell forwards over the hydrangea bush, straightened up and stared around. There was no sign of what had caused the loud cracking noise, but there were several faces peering through various nearby windows. Harry stuffed his wand hastily back into his jeans and tried to look innocent.
"Ha, I've got a feeling you didn't pull that one off mate." Ron laughed, and Harry being the more mature one stuck his tongue out at him.
"Lovely evening!" shouted Uncle Vernon, waving at Mrs. Number Seven, who was glaring from behind her net curtains. "Did you hear that car backfire just now? Gave Petunia and me quite a turn!"
He continued to grin in a horrible, manic way until all the curious neighbours had disappeared from their various windows, then the grin became a grimace of rage as he beckoned Harry back towards him.
"Touch one hair on his head Dursley, I dare you" Sirius said fiercely under his breath. Looking around the table Harry was slightly scared and touched that many people seemed to be agreeing with Sirius's sentiments given the furious glares the book was receiving.
Harry moved a few steps closer, taking care to stop just short of the point at which Uncle Vernon's outstretched hands could resume their strangling.
Sirius gave Harry a quick squeeze as though to reassure himself that Harry was in fact in the kitchen.
"What the devil do you mean by it, boy?" asked Uncle Vernon in a croaky voice that trembled with fury.
"What do I mean by what?" said Harry coldly. He kept looking left and right up the street, still hoping to see the person who had made the cracking noise.
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody shouted only causing about a quarter of the table to jump.
"Making a racket like a starting pistol right outside our –"
"I didn't make that noise," said Harry firmly.
Aunt Petunia's thin, horsy face now appeared beside Uncle Vernon's wide, purple one. She looked livid.
"Why were you lurking under our window?"
"Yes - yes, good point, Petunia! What were you doing under our window, boy?"
"Listening to the news," said Harry in a resigned voice.
His aunt and uncle exchanged looks of outrage.
"Oh for heaven's sake, what on earth is wrong with listening to the news?" Hermione burst out angrily, "Nothing, honestly Harry I don't know how you turned out so well given you had to live with them for so many years."
Many looked at her shocked.
"What?" Rather than answer everyone turned to face Dumbledore again.
"Listening to the news! Again?"
"Well, it changes every day, you see," said Harry.
"Nice" Fred and George said while Harry and Ron hi-fived.
"Lily had a cheeky wit like yours too Harry."
Harry turned to him and said, "Really?"
Sirius, Remus and most surprisingly Snape all nodded. Although it looked like it pained him greatly to do so. At hearing how he was like his mother Harry smiled widely, perhaps the most authentic smile to have been on his face since returning to the house. It broke Ginny's heart a little to see it there after so long.
"Don't you be clever with me, boy! I want to know what you're really up to - and don't give me any more of this listening to the news tosh! You know perfectly well that your lot -"
"Careful, Vernon!" breathed Aunt Petunia, and Uncle Vernon lowered his voice so that Harry could barely hear him, "-that your lot don't get on our news!"
"That's all you know," said Harry.
The Dursleys goggled at him for a few seconds, then Aunt Petunia said, "You're a nasty little liar. What are all those -" she, too, lowered her voice so that Harry had to lip-read the next word, "- owls doing if they're not bringing you news?"
"Aha!" said Uncle Vernon in a triumphant whisper. "Get out of that one, boy! As if we didn't know you get all your news from those pestilential birds!"
Harry hesitated for a moment. It cost him something to tell the truth this time, even though his aunt and uncle could not possibly know how bad he felt at admitting it.
"Sorry Harry."
"It's ok, I know it isn't your fault." while sending a slightly accusing look at Dumbledore. He still blamed him for not telling him anything even though he knew everything now.
"The owls… aren't bringing me news," he said tonelessly.
"I don't believe it," said Aunt Petunia at once.
"No more do I," said Uncle Vernon forcefully.
"We know you're up to something funny," said Aunt Petunia.
"We're not stupid, you know," said Uncle Vernon.
"Well, that's news to me," said Harry,
"Oh Harry, be careful." Mrs Weasley said fretfully.
Harry knew it was always going to be a habit of hers to worry no matter what, but hoped that it wouldn't mean her standing in the way of doing whatever is necessary in the fight later.
his temper rising, and before the Dursleys could call him back, he had wheeled about, crossed the front lawn, stepped over the low garden wall and was striding off up the street.
He was in trouble now and he knew it. He would have to face his aunt and uncle later and pay the price for his rudeness, but he did not care very much just at the moment; he had much more pressing matters on his mind.
Harry was sure the cracking noise had been made by someone Apparating or Disapparating. It was exactly the sound Dobby the house-elf made when he vanished into thin air. Was it possible that Dobby was here in Privet Drive?
Could Dobby be following him right at this very moment?
"If it was Dobby I don't think he would of allowed himself to stay hidden." Ron said smirking.
"Dobby?" Neville asked, "Was he the house-elf that was in our dorm last Christmas?"
"Yep the very same. I'm glad he's learned since last time when it comes to waking me up, I really didn't appreciate that heart attack" Harry said while Neville and Ron laughed at his expense.
As this thought occurred he wheeled around and stared back down Privet Drive, but it appeared to be completely deserted and Harry was sure that Dobby did not know how to become invisible.
He walked on, hardly aware of the route he was taking, for he had pounded these streets so often lately that his feet carried him to his favourite haunts automatically.
Every few steps he glanced back over his shoulder. Someone magical had been near him as he lay among Aunt Petunia's dying begonias, he was sure of it. Why hadn't they spoken to him, why hadn't they made contact, why were they hiding now?
And then, as his feeling of frustration peaked, his certainty leaked away.
Perhaps it hadn't been a magical sound after all. Perhaps he was so desperate for the tiniest sign of contact from the world to which he belonged that he was simply overreacting to perfectly ordinary noises. Could he be sure it hadn't been the sound of something breaking inside a neighbour's house?
Harry felt a dull, sinking sensation in his stomach and before he knew it the feeling of hopelessness that had plagued him all summer rolled over him once again.
This had been what Harry had been trying to avoid being expressed. Crossing his arms on the table he burrowed his head in them, resolving not to emerge until the Dementor attack.
Tomorrow morning he would be woken by the alarm at five o'clock so he could pay the owl that delivered the Daily Prophet - but was there any point continuing to take it? Harry merely glanced at the front page before throwing it aside these days; when the idiots who ran the paper finally realized that Voldemort was back it would be headline news, and that was the only kind Harry cared about.
If he was lucky, there would also be owls carrying letters from his best friends Ron and Hermione, though any expectation he'd had that their letters would bring him news had long since been dashed.
Abandoning his resolve for a moment he sent them a look just as they'd opened their mouths that said 'apologise and I'll hex you' before returning his head to his arms.
We can't say much about you-know-what, obviously… We've been told not to say anything important in case our letters go astray… We're quite busy but I can't give you details here…There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you…
But when were they going to see him? Nobody seemed too bothered with a precise date.
Hermione had scribbled I expect we'll be seeing you quite soon inside his birthday card, but how soon was soon? As far as Harry could tell from the vague hints in their letters, Hermione and Ron were in the same place, presumably at Ron's parents' house.
He could hardly bear to think of the pair of them having fun at The Burrow when he was stuck in Privet Drive. In fact, he was so angry with them he had thrown away, unopened, the two boxes of Honeydukes chocolates they'd sent him for his birthday.
"Harry!" exclaimed Sirius, Remus, Fred, George and Ron, whilst Hermione looked a little hurt.
"I'm sorry guys, trust me I regret it later." Harry responded, although a little muffled.
He'd regretted it later,
"See!"
after the wilted salad Aunt Petunia had provided for dinner that night.
And what were Ron and Hermione busy with? Why wasn't he, Harry, busy? Hadn't he proved himself capable of handling much more than them? Had they all forgotten what he had done?
Hadn't it been he who had entered that graveyard and watched Cedric being murdered, and been tied to that tombstone and nearly killed?
So far throughout the chapter Snape had been thrown into this world where everything he thought he knew to be true was being shaken, he was grasping to what Dumbledore had just read as proof of Potter's arrogance, just like his father, but a small voice in the back of his head which sounded strangely like Lily, was saying he was justified in feeling that way, he wasn't bragging about it. This internal battle went unnoticed by everyone given Snape's passive face, but a glance from Dumbledore told him that Dumbledore knew what he was thinking and for that he cursed the old man. He wanted Harry to be Potter's son not Lily's…
Don't think about that, Harry told himself sternly for the hundredth time that summer. It was bad enough that he kept revisiting the graveyard in his nightmares, without dwelling on it in his waking moments too.
He turned a corner into Magnolia Crescent; halfway along he passed the narrow alleyway down the side of a garage where he had first clapped eyes on his godfather.
"Oh so you did see me. Did I ever say sorry for scaring you by the way?" Sirius asked cheerfully, evidently trying to get Harry to emerge again. All he got for his efforts was a "it's fine Sirius."
Sirius, at least, seemed to understand how Harry was feeling. Admittedly, his letters were just as empty of proper news as Ron and Hermione's, but at least they contained words of caution and consolation instead of tantalizing hints:
I know this must be frustrating for you… Keep your nose clean and everything will be okay… Be careful and don't do anything rash…
Molly looked at Sirius rather shocked while Remus looked at him with slight pride in his amused smile.
"What?" Sirius asked. Molly looked down not wanting to start a fight. 'That was actually really good advice to give' she thought 'maybe I have been too harsh on him. Just because he can be a bit of a rash person doesn't necessarily mean he's a bad godfather.'
"Just you of all people saying not to be rash." Remus said, while Sirius pouted at him.
Well, thought Harry, as he crossed Magnolia Crescent, turned into Magnolia Road and headed towards the darkening play park, he had (by and large) done as Sirius advised. He had at least resisted the temptation to tie his trunk to his broomstick and set off for The Burrow by himself.
In fact, Harry thought his behaviour had been very good considering how frustrated and angry he felt at being stuck in Privet Drive so long, reduced to hiding in flowerbeds in the hope of hearing something that might point to what Lord Voldemort was doing. Nevertheless, it was quite galling to be told not to be rash by a man who had served twelve years in the wizard prison, Azkaban, escaped, attempted to commit the murder he had been convicted for in the first place, then gone on the run with a stolen Hippogriff.
Everyone let out a snort at this. Remus chuckled saying, "See Harry agrees with me."
"Hey!"
Harry turned his head to face his godfather and smiling and said, "Well?"
Having no response Sirius crossed his arms and 'hmpf'ed.
Harry vaulted over the locked park gate and set off across the parched grass. The park was as empty as the surrounding streets. When he reached the swings he sank on to the only one that Dudley and his friends had not yet managed to break, coiled one arm around the chain and stared moodily at the ground. He would not be able to hide in the Dursleys' flowerbed again.
Tomorrow, he would have to think of some fresh way of listening to the news. In the meantime, he had nothing to look forward to but another restless, disturbed night, because even when he escaped the nightmares about Cedric he had unsettling dreams about long dark corridors. All finishing in dead ends and locked doors, which he supposed had something to do with the trapped feeling he had when he was awake.
Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at Harry, apparently Harry had been seeing into Voldemort's mind for longer than he realised.
Often the old scar on his forehead prickled uncomfortably, but he did not fool himself that Ron or Hermione or Sirius would find that very interesting any more. In the past, his scar hurting had warned that Voldemort was getting stronger again, but now that Voldemort was back they would probably remind him that its regular irritation was only to be expected… nothing to worry about… old news…
"Harry that's not true." Hermione said placing a hand on his shoulder but failing to get a response.
The injustice of it all welled up inside him so that he wanted to yell with fury. If it hadn't been for him, nobody would even have known Voldemort was back!
And his reward was to be stuck in Little Whinging for four solid weeks, completely cut off from the magical world, reduced to squatting among dying begonias so that he could hear about water-skiing budgerigars! How could Dumbledore have forgotten him so easily? Why had Ron and Hermione got together without inviting him along, too?
How much longer was he supposed to endure Sirius telling him to sit tight and be a good boy; or resist the temptation to write to the stupid Daily Prophet and point out that Voldemort had returned? These furious thoughts whirled around in Harry's head, and his insides writhed with anger as a sultry, velvety night fell around him, the air full of the smell of warm, dry grass, and the only sound that of the low grumble of traffic on the road beyond the park railings.
"Uh oh." Sirius said exchanging a look with Remus. Harry turned to look at him again before Sirius continued, "Looks like you've got your mum's temper too. We learnt quickly not to let her brood about something because otherwise she was 10 times worse than Molly when she's angered." Shooting a side-glance at her who's simple response was to glare.
He did not know how long he had sat on the swing before the sound of voices interrupted his musings and he looked up. The streetlamps from the surrounding roads were casting a misty glow strong enough to silhouette a group of people making their way across the park. One of them was singing a loud, crude song. The others were laughing. A soft ticking noise came from several expensive racing bikes that they were wheeling along.
Harry knew who those people were. The figure in front was unmistakably his cousin, Dudley Dursley, wending his way home, accompanied by his faithful gang.
Dudley was as vast as ever, but a year's hard dieting and the discovery of a new talent had wrought quite a change in his physique.
As Uncle Vernon delightedly told anyone who would listen, Dudley had recently become the Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Champion of the Southeast. 'The noble sport', as Uncle Vernon called it, had made Dudley even more formidable than he had seemed to Harry in their primary school days when he had served as Dudley's first punching bag.
This caused many to mutter angrily, whilst Sirius and surprisingly Remus growled quietly.
Harry was not remotely afraid of his cousin any more but he still didn't think that Dudley learning to punch harder and more accurately was cause for celebration.
"I should hope not," McGonagall stated stiffly, "Physical violence shouldn't be congratulated, in fact that goes for any type of violence."
Neighbourhood children all around were terrified of him - even more terrified than they were of 'that Potter boy' who, they had been warned, was a hardened hooligan and attended St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.
"What?" was the general outcry again.
"Harry why did you never tell us? I mean we would never hang out with criminals, present company excluded." Fred cried mock-shocked.
Harry raised his head enough to glare down the table before going, "Shut up Fred."
"I'm George."
"Right" Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he returned to his original position in his arms, leaving the twins to look at each other in bewilderment.
Harry watched the dark figures crossing the grass and wondered who they had been beating up tonight. Look round, Harry found himself thinking as he watched them. Come on… look round… I'm sitting here all alone… come and have a go…
"Harry!" scolded Mrs Weasley and Hermione.
If Dudley's friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn't want to lose face in front of the gang, but he'd be terrified of provoking Harry… it would be really fun to watch Dudley's dilemma, to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond… and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, he was ready - he had his wand. Let them try… he'd love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell.
Snape was starting to feel sick to his stomach. Potter seemed to of had a similar if not worse life than his own when he was 15, and he couldn't help but think that he'd made Potter's life even worse. If Lily was alive he knew she'd of killed him.
But they didn't turn around, they didn't see him, they were almost at the railings. Harry mastered the impulse to call after them… seeking a fight was not a smart move… he must not use magic… he would be risking expulsion again.
The voices of Dudley's gang died away; they were out of sight, heading along Magnolia Road. There you go, Sirius, Harry thought dully. Nothing rash. Kept my nose clean. Exactly the opposite of what you'd have done.
"Hey!" Nearly everyone just smirked at him.
He got to his feet and stretched. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon seemed to feel that whenever Dudley turned up was the right time to be home, and any time after that was much too late.
"That's no way to raise a child." Molly scowled.
Uncle Vernon had threatened to lock Harry in the shed if he came home after Dudley ever again, so, stifling a yawn, and still scowling, Harry set off towards the park gate.
"Harry, have they ever locked you in the shed?" Remus asked leaning across the table.
Harry looked at him tiredly saying, "No Remus, they have never locked me in the shed."And then returned back to his resting position. Sirius wasn't sure but he thought he might have been the only one to catch the inflection about it only being the shed.
Magnolia Road, like Privet Drive, was full of large, square houses with perfectly manicured lawns, all owned by large, square owners who drove very clean cars similar to Uncle Vernon's.
Harry preferred Little Whinging by night, when the curtained windows made patches of jewel bright colour in the darkness and he ran no danger of hearing disapproving mutters about his 'delinquent' appearance when he passed the householders. He walked quickly, so that halfway along Magnolia Road Dudley's gang came into view again; they were saying their farewells at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent. Harry stepped into the shadow of a large lilac tree and waited.
"… squealed like a pig, didn't he?" Malcolm was saying, to guffaws from the others.
"Nice right hook, Big D," said Piers.
"Horrible children" Molly said.
"Same time tomorrow?" said Dudley.
"Round at my place, my parents will be out," said Gordon.
"See you then," said Dudley.
"Bye, Dud!"
"See ya, Big D!"
Harry waited for the rest of the gang to move on before setting off again. When their voices had faded once more he headed around the corner into Magnolia Crescent and by walking very quickly he soon came within hailing distance of Dudley, who was strolling along at his ease, humming tunelessly.
"Hey, Big D!"
"Oh Harry …" Ginny said exasperated.
Dudley turned.
"Oh," he grunted. "It's you."
"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" said Harry.
"Shut it," snarled Dudley, turning away.
"Cool name," said Harry, grinning and falling into step beside his cousin. "But you'll always be
'Ickle Diddykins' to me."
There was a pause before everyone let out a laugh, indeed the twins fell out of their chairs they were laughing so much.
"Oh Merlin and I thought Mum's nicknames for Ron were bad." George gasped as he clambered back onto his seat.
"Just wait for it, it gets better." Harry said, finally sitting back upright now that it was about to reach the Dementor attack.
"I said, SHUT IT!" said Dudley, whose ham-like hands had curled into fists.
"Don't the boys know that's what your mum calls you?"
"Shut your face."
"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about 'Popkin' and 'Dinky Diddydums', can I use them then?"
"Oh they're rich!" Fred said through his laughter.
Dudley said nothing. The effort of keeping himself from hitting Harry seemed to demand all his self-control.
"So who've you been beating up tonight?" Harry asked, his grin fading. "Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago -"
"How could any parent let their child get away with behaving like that!" Molly exclaimed. "If any of mine did that they wouldn't breath fresh air unless they were doing de-gnoming for a month."
All the Weasley children grimaced at that, knowing perfectly well that she was being deadly serious.
"He was asking for it," snarled Dudley.
"Oh yeah?"
"He cheeked me."
"Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on its hind legs? Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true."
"Harry you really shouldn't insult your cousin like that. He's a lot bigger than you." Luna said serenely.
"I know Luna, although that isn't really the reason I shouldn't of done it. I shouldn't of done it because I shouldn't of gone picking a fight with him as he never said anything to me, regardless of past experiences."
Hermione looked at him approvingly, knowing Harry had said that while in teacher mode with Luna.
A muscle was twitching in Dudley's jaw. It gave Harry enormous satisfaction to know how furious he was making Dudley; he felt as though he was siphoning off his own frustration into his cousin, the only outlet he had.
They turned right down the narrow alleyway where Harry had first seen Sirius and which formed a short cut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was empty and much darker than the streets it linked because there were no streetlamps. Their footsteps were muffled between garage walls on one side and a high fence on the other.
"Think you're a big man carrying that thing, don't you?" Dudley said after a few seconds.
"What thing?"
"That - that thing you are hiding."
Harry grinned again.
"Not as stupid as you look, are you, Dud? But I s'pose, if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time."
Harry pulled out his wand. He saw Dudley look sideways at it.
"You're not allowed," Dudley said at once. "I know you're not. You'd get expelled from that freak school you go to."
"Freak school" Remus said coldly. "I suppose that's a phrase he picked up from his mother was it?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"I remember your mother being upset sometimes because Petunia would call her that."
A ringing silence rang through the room before Dumbledore continued reading.
"How d'you know they haven't changed the rules, Big D?"
"They haven't," said Dudley, though he didn't sound completely convinced.
Harry laughed softly.
"You haven't got the guts to take me on without that thing, have you?" Dudley snarled.
"Whereas you just need four mates behind you before you can beat up a ten year old.
You know that boxing title you keep banging on about? How old was your opponent? Seven? Eight?"
"He was sixteen, for your information," snarled Dudley, "and he was out cold for twenty minutes after I'd finished with him and he was twice as heavy as you. You just wait till I tell Dad you had that thing out –"
"Running to Daddy now, are you? Is his ickle boxing champ frightened of nasty Harry's wand?"
"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneered Dudley.
"This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this."
"I mean when you're in bed!" Dudley snarled.
He had stopped walking. Harry stopped too, staring at his cousin.
From the little he could see of Dudley's large face, he was wearing a strangely triumphant look.
"What d'you mean, I'm not brave when I'm in bed?" s aid Harry, completely nonplussed. "What am I supposed to be frightened of, pillows or something?"
"I heard you last night," said Dudley breathlessly. "Talking in your sleep. Moaning."
"What d'you mean?" Harry said again, but there was a cold, plunging sensation in his stomach.
He had revisited the graveyard last night in his dreams.
Dudley gave a harsh bark of laughter, then adopted a high-pitched whimpering voice.
"'Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!' Who's Cedric - your boyfriend?"
There was a sudden uproar, the kids being the loudest because they knew Cedric. After a minute Dumbledore set off a loud bang from his wand, everyone stopped yelling. The twinkle had gone out in Dumbledore's eyes. "He didn't know I'm sure and in either case this has already happened, there's nothing to be done now."
Fred and George exchanged a very serious look which promised to take vengeance on him. Ginny kicked George under the table saying without words that whatever they were planning she wanted to be a part of.
"I - you're lying," said Harry automatically.
But his mouth had gone dry. He knew Dudley wasn't lying - how else would he know about Cedric?
"Dad! Help me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo hoo!"
Sirius and Remus exchanged a pained look and Tonks who's hair had turned red in anger was now turning a mousey brown as she heard these taunts and saw the haunted look in Harry's eyes. Reaching under the table she grabbed Remus's hand and gave it a quick squeeze which he returned in a show of comfort.
"Shut up," said Harry quietly. "Shut up, Dudley, I'm warning you!"
"Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to - don't you point that thing at me!"
Dudley backed into the alley wall. Harry was pointing the wand directly at Dudley's heart. Harry could feel fourteen years' hatred of Dudley pounding in his veins - what wouldn't he give to strike now, to jinx Dudley so thoroughly he'd have to crawl home like an insect, struck dumb, sprouting feelers…
"Don't ever talk about that again," Harry snarled. "D'you understand me?"
"Point that thing somewhere else!"
"I said, do you understand me?"
"Point it somewhere else!"
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM -"
Dudley gave an odd, shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water.
"Oh so this was when you were attacked by Dementors?" Neville asked quietly, to which Harry gave a short nod.
Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch black and lightless - the stars, the moon, the misty streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant rumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. They were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding them.
For a split second Harry thought he had done magic without meaning to, despite the fact that he'd been resisting as hard as he could - then his reason caught up with his senses - he didn't have the power to turn off the stars. He turned his head this way and that, trying to see something, but the darkness pressed on his eyes like a weightless veil.
Dudley's terrified voice broke in Harry's ear.
"W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!"
"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!"
"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I -"
"I said shut up!"
Harry stood stock still, turning his sightless eyes left and right. The cold was so intense he was shivering all over; goose bumps had erupted up his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up - he opened his eyes to their fullest extent, staring blankly around, unseeing.
It was impossible… they couldn't be here… not in Little Whinging… he strained his ears… he would hear them before he saw them…
"Good lad, keep your head on." Moody said.
"Harry's always like that in those situations." Hermione said warmly.
"Yeah, unlike some people who forget they're even magical." Ron teased and Harry couldn't help the low chuckle that escaped as Hermione blushed.
"I'll t-tell Dad!" Dudley whimpered. "W-where are you? What are you d-do—?"
"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed, "I'm trying to lis —"
But he fell silent. He had heard just the thing he had been dreading.
There was something in the alleyway apart from themselves, something that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Harry felt a horrible jolt of dread as he stood trembling in the freezing air.
"C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!"
"Dudley, shut—"
WHAM.
"He hit you! That idiot, doesn't he know you're his only hope of getting out of there?" Ginny yelled.
A fist made contact with the side of Harry's head, lifting him off his feet. Small white lights popped in front of his eyes. For the second time in an hour Harry felt as though his head had been cleaved in two; next moment, he had landed hard on the ground and his wand had flown out of his hand.
"Oh come on! Harry I swear you have the worse luck." Neville said.
Ron replied saying, "He does, but when it turns the other way he's very, very lucky. If it wasn't the case I don't think we would of lived this long."
"You moron, Dudley!" Harry yelled, his eyes watering with pain as he scrambled to his hands and knees, feeling around frantically in the blackness. He heard Dudley blundering away, hitting the alley fence, stumbling.
"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!"
There was a horrible squealing yell and Dudley's footsteps stopped. At the same moment, Harry felt a creeping chill behind him that could mean only one thing. There was more than one.
"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!" Harry muttered frantically, his hands flying over the ground like spiders.
"Where's - wand -come on -lumos!"
"That won't work" Bill said from beside Dumbledore. "The wand has to be in the wizard's hand for the spell to work, unless of course you're like Dumbledore."
Harry blushed furiously, "Really? Well I'm definitely not in the same league as Dumbledore, but thanks I guess." He said to a thoroughly confused Bill.
Dumbledore simply chuckled and read on.
He said the spell automatically, desperate for light to help him in his search - and to his disbelieving relief, light flared inches from his right hand - the wand tip had ignited.
Bill looked Gobsmacked as did quite a few of the others at the table. Luna however just smiled at him and said, "I knew you could do it Harry."
Fred and George looked at each other before jumping up and going, "Us too." Fred continued saying "You always seem to be doing the impossible!"
Harry snatched it up, scrambled to his feet and turned around.
His stomach turned over.
A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly towards him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.
Stumbling backwards, Harry raised his wand.
"Expecto patronum!"
A silvery wisp of vapour shot from the tip of the wand and the Dementor slowed, but the spell hadn't worked properly; tripping over his own feet, Harry retreated further as the Dementor bore down upon him, panic fogging his brain -concentrate–
"Oh no Harry" Hermione whimpered next to him grabbing his arm as though to make sure he was still there.
"Hermione," Harry said rather bemused, "you know this happened over 5 months ago right?"
A pair of grey, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the Dementor's robes, reaching for him. A rushing noise filled Harry's ears.
"Expecto patronum!"
His voice sounded dim and distant. Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand - he couldn't do it any more, he couldn't work the spell.
There was laughter inside his own head, shrill, high-pitched laughter… he could smell the Dementor's putrid, death-cold breath filling his own lungs, drowning him - think… something happy…
But there was no happiness in him… the Dementor's icy fingers were closing on his throat – the high-pitched laughter was growing louder and louder, and a voice spoke inside his head: "Bow to death, Harry… it might even be painless… I would no t know… I have never died…"
He was never going to see Ron and Hermione again –
And their faces burst clearly into his mind as he fought for breath.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
"We were your happy thought?" Hermione cried.
"Yes" said Harry slightly warily.
"Oh Harry" and then pulled him into hug. Shooting Ron a bewildered look Harry just said, "Well of course you guys are going to be my happy thought, you're my best friends." patting her awkwardly on the back. Ron was too touched by Harry's sentiments to even feel annoyed that Hermione was hugging Harry.
An enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry's wand; its antlers caught the Dementor in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown backwards, weightless as darkness, and as the stag charged, the Dementor swooped away, bat-like and defeated.
"THIS WAY!" Harry shouted at the stag. Wheeling around, he sprinted down the alleyway, holding the lit wand aloft. "DUDLEY? DUDLEY!"
He had run barely a dozen steps when he reached them: Dudley was curled up on the ground, his arms clamped over his face. A second Dementor was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prizing them slowly almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head towards Dudley's face as though about to kiss him.
Nearly everyone gasped at this. No matter how horrible he was, he certainly didn't deserve to be kissed.
"GET IT!" Harry bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag he had conjured came galloping past him. The Dementor's eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver antlers caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellow, it soared away and was absorbed into the darkness; the stag cantered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist.
Moon, stars and streetlamps burst back into life. A warm breeze swept the alleyway. Trees rustled in neighbouring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again.
Harry stood quite still, all his senses vibrating, taking in the abrupt return to normality. After a moment, he became aware that his T-shirt was sticking to him; he was drenched in sweat.
He could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging.
"Neither could we Harry," Sirius said lowly, "When he first got here we thought it was some excuse of his to get off duty, but as soon as he asked for Dumbledore we knew that however unlikely that old Dung here was telling the truth."
"It 'appens sometimes" Dung grunted.
Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up, but then he heard loud, running footsteps behind him.
Instinctively raising his wand again, he span on his heel to face the newcomer.
Moody nodded approvingly.
Mrs. Figg, their batty old neighbour, came panting into sight. Her grizzled grey hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. Harry made to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight, but-
"Don't put it away idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"
"You know, second only to me finding out I'm a wizard and my Aunt and Uncle knew the whole time, I think that was the most shocking thing I ever found out."
"Seriously? What about all the stuff we've done?" Ron questioned.
"Well some of it was shocking, but it all sort of came to be expected given I was entering a new world. I knew what to expect from my muggle life and what to expect in my wizarding life, but there I was, seeing my two worlds collide."
"Ok that's the end of the chapter. Who would like to read next?"
"I would like to please professor." Hermione said, surprising no-one.
"Albus, perhaps we should call it a night after this chapter? It is getting rather late."
"Right you are Minerva. If you would like to begin Miss Granger."