Chapter Seven: A Grim Encounter

It was supposed to be a miserable week. A week both Harry and Ginny dreaded.

Instead, it turned into the best week Harry had ever spent with the Dursleys. For the first time in his life, he had a friend. He did not have many things to show her of his own, but those things he did show her, she took an incessant delight in, much like her father acted around muggle items.

With Dudley and Vernon both gone each day, Petunia also seemed different.

Truly, she was not normally the one to hit Harry, but she also never showed even the hint of affection. So it was with a complete sense of shock that Petunia announced on Thursday that she, Harry and Ginny were going to go shopping for new clothes.

"Really?" Harry said, nearly speechless.

"Stop gawking and get your shoes on," Petunia snapped in response.

For Ginny, it was a true adventure. Little Whinging did not have much in the way of shopping, so instead they drove into outer London. Ginny stayed scrunched up against the window of the car, watching all the people of every nationality walk about or drive. "So many," Ginny whispered.

It was a discount clothier, but even so, the clothes Petunia purchased were the very first clothes she had ever actually bought for Harry. Ginny even helped pick out colors, though her tastes were obviously wizardly.

"You mean purple doesn't go with green?" she asked in obvious confusion when Petunia pronounced her opinion on a combination of pants and shirt.

"No, dear," Petunia said.

"Oh, okay."

Ginny shrugged it off. Harry, however, had a hard time stifling his shock. Petunia called Ginny 'dear'. He wondered if perchance his aunt had found another diary.

They ate lunch at a McDonalds. A real McDonalds. He'd never had food there. Ginny had never even heard of the place. Ginny announced that milkshakes were her favorite new drink in all the world.

Petunia almost smiled.

It was the strangest day Harry had ever had with his aunt. It was actually pleasant. When they got home and Harry hefted the clothes upstairs, he looked his aunt in the eye. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia."

"You're welcome, Harry," she said primly. "Now start working on dinner."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

Of course, when Vernon and Dudley got home things reverted to normal. Vernon was terse and angry, though he was very careful not to voice anything at Ginny. Dudley just stared at her.

On Friday evening, two days before Ginny was to return home, Dudley caught the two of them in the hall with the simple process of stepping in front of them. He was so large that simply doing so blocked the entire hallway.

Harry had his wand out of his pocket, but Dudley did not actually make any move. He just stared at Ginny. Finally, he said, "You really a witch?"

"Yes," Ginny said. Her chin was raised bravely against a boy literally twice her size.

"You ride a broom and everything?"

"I don't have my own broom, but I can ride one real good," Ginny said. "Not as good as Harry, but pretty good."

Dudley blinked and looked over her shoulder. "You ride a broom?"

"I'm on the house quidditch team," Harry said. "Think of football on broomsticks twenty meters up."

Dudley nodded, and it seemed the slow gears in his head were processing this information. "Okay," he finally said. With that, he turned into his room and shut the door behind him.

Ginny and Harry managed to get to their room before bursting out in laughter.

The next day was Saturday, Ginny's last day there. It was just a week before Harry's birthday. They spent the day in Harry's room, or walking to the park together. They did not hold hands or act like boyfriend/girlfriend. They did not accidently bump into each other like young lovers sometimes did.

They were not lovers in any sense of the word. They did not even think about the word. They still argued constantly. Ginny still became intensely uncomfortable if Harry was behind her when they slept.

He disliked her cold feet, and occasionally they would wage a battle during their meals, projecting tastes at inopportune moments. For instance, the taste of milk and orange juice was a truly vile combination. Just as catsup and chocolate shakes did not mix.

Yet they moved together with a symmetry found only in the longest and most affectionate relationships. They could complete each others thoughts and read each others moods with a precision that frankly frightened Petunia.

They acted as if they had been married for a lifetime.

Petunia was working in the front garden when she saw them walking back from the park. The sun was behind them, throwing their faces in shadow. All she saw was the shock of unruly black hair, and the long fiery locks beside him.

Petunia suddenly found her vision obscured. She shielded her eyes with her exposed forearm just as the two arrived. "Are you okay, Aunt Petunia?"

"Fine, Harry," she said quickly.

Harry nodded, and he and Ginny walked into the house.

That night, Ginny dried her hair for the very last time. She unplugged the muggle device with a sad smile and placed it on the counter. Petunia stepped into the hall, perhaps hearing that the blow dryer was off.

Ginny started a little. "I'm sorry if I…"

"It's all right," Petunia said. The two stood, staring at each other a moment.

"Well, er, thank you very much for having me this week. I know it was an inconvenience."

"Not at all." Suddenly, Petunia stepped forward and raised a hand. Ginny froze, terrified she was about to be hit. Instead, the hand gently took a lock of her red hair.

"He probably doesn't even realize it," Petunia said.

"Realize what?"

"You look just like his mother. My sister. Your hair is the same color. You even have a similar look around your cheeks. Your eyes are different but…" She stopped. "And he looks just like his father, but with…"

"His mother's eyes," Ginny finished.

Petunia nodded. "Well," she said, resuming her normal prim and proper persona, "if I do not have a chance tomorrow, it has been a pleasure having you as a guest. I wish you the best in your studies."

"Thank you, Mrs. Dursely," Ginny said with a very proper wizarding curtsy.

Petunia ducked back into her bedroom, and as she did so Ginny saw Harry standing in the hall as always, watching out for her. She smiled at him, and sent a brief image of a raspberry at him.

He responded with a mental noogie to her head, and both grinned as they retreated into their room.

/o\/o\/o\/o\

Harry's eyes snapped open.

Ginny's back was pressed against him, just like she hated so much. She told him how much she hated the position every time they woke from it, and yet somehow they managed to get back the same way two or three times a week. Tonight was worse because somehow his hand had managed to worm its way under her shirt and was pressed firmly against her stomach.

It felt absolutely wonderful, but filled him with dread. If she woke like this…damn, too late.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

"Moving," Harry said as he quickly pulled his hand away and then rolled onto his back.

"Better," she growled. "Keep that thing of yours away from my bum, if you don't mind."

By now, there was simply no embarrassment left. Instead, he grinned and shot her a full sensory image of what his "thing" felt like, especially when waking up next to her.

She sat up, turned around, and slapped his arm hard enough to hurt. "That was disgusting, Harry!" she said.

He felt her anger, and sat up quickly, rubbing his arm. "Sorry," he said.

"You better be," she snapped. "Gods above, if I told Bill or the twins, they'd hex you to pieces."

"I said I'm sorry," Harry hissed. It's not like we sleep like that on purpose.

"Then why..." do we always end up like that?

I don't know! All I know is that when I wake up, it feels like I slept better than when we just sleep holding hands.

"Stupid bond," Ginny muttered. "Next thing, Pomfrey'll tell us we have to sleep naked."

Harry blushed intently. "You better not be thinking that," Ginny said, closing her eyes.

"I'm trying not to," Harry said. "You brought it up."

Ginny flushed as well, then gaped at him. "Cho Chang? Are you joking?"

Harry said nothing, and Ginny shook her head. "So all it takes is for a girl to sprout a pair of boobs early, and all the boys go crazy. Merlin, I should ask mother just to hex mine before they get any bigger."

Harry sputtered, but then froze. The contact in their minds went silent as well. "Harry, what's…?"

Shush!

Don't shush me!

I heard something.

Ginny went quiet then as well.

Then they heard it. The stairs were creaking. The air suddenly seemed heavy and oppressive, as if it were somehow channeling their dread. Very quickly, Harry reached for his wand, as did Ginny. They each climbed off the bed and stood facing the door.

From somewhere on the other side of the door, they heard just the hint of a faint growl.

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end. His hand dropped down and Ginny's found it in a desperate grip. The silence stretched on so long it began to hurt.

When it broke, though, the shattering of it was a thousand times worse. It was a scream—a terrified, high-pitched scream. Too high to be adult.

"Dudley!" Harry said.

Suddenly their door broke in half as a massive clawed hand covered in gray fur broke through. A second claw reached in after, and the two claws ripped the wooden door apart as if it were paper. Standing in the doorway was a monster.

Seven feet tall and a thirty stone easy, the beast was covered in thick gray fur. It stood on canine-like hind legs, with long, loping forearms that ended in those terrible claws. Angry yellow eyes stared at the two children over a snarling nuzzle.

Werewolf. Ginny was too terrified to speak aloud.

The werewolf stepped forward, while further in the house Dudley screamed again. Holding hands, Ginny was petrified with terror. Harry, though, felt angry. He was supposed to be safe here.

The wolf dropped down on all fours, tensing to strike. Harry raised his hands and shouted the first hex to come to mind. Only, it was not his mind it came from. "Vespertilio ēmunctĭo!"

A flare of purple light struck the werewolf just as it pounced. Suddenly, its head literally exploded as a swarm of mucus bats ripped free from its nose. The body continued forward, bleeding mucus-green bats like blood, and slammed into the terrified young couple.

Harry lost his grip on Ginny as he fell under the body. Without a thought about magical restrictions, Ginny applied one of the few spells she knew and levitated the body away. The two jumped back to their feet and ran into the hall. Another werewolf stood in front of Dudley's room. It held Harry's cousin in its hand. The boy looked white with terror, but did not appear to be harmed.

The creature saw Harry and Ginny and dropped Dudley to the floor. It growled and dropped down to all fours. Just then Vernon and Petunia stepped into the hall. "What in blazes is…" Vernon froze when he saw the monster.

"Uncle Vernon, get back in your room!" Harry screamed.

He reached out with his magic without even using his wand. He didn't know a spell to do what he wanted to do, but he wanted to do it with sufficient need that his magic responded. Vernon and Petunia were thrown bodily back into their room, and the door slammed shut behind them.

The werewolf howled as it spotted its prey. Harry raised his wand, ready with Ginny's famous bat-bogey hex if necessary.

It turned out not to be.

With a loud barking growl, a huge black dog flew up the stairs and latched its jaws onto the neck of the werewolf. The dark creature howled in anger as it tripped over the prone Dudely and fell into the boy's room. Harry and Ginny rushed forward and grabbed Dudley's arms. "Come on," Harry said.

Dudley scrambled to his feet and the three of them ran to the master bedroom.

Inside, Vernon stood near the door loading a shotgun. He pointed it at them when the door opened, though he jerked it back again. "What is going on out there?" Vernon demanded.

"Werewolves," Ginny said.

"Rubbish!"

"It was a werewolf, Dad," Dudley stuttered.

"Something must be wrong with the wards," Harry snarled. "We were supposed to be safe here!"

They all heard crashing from Dudley's room, accompanied by growls, howls, and screams. One scream sounded shockingly loud, followed by a dense, cloying silence.

Harry and Ginny spun around, dropped to their knees, and pointed their wands at the door. Then they heard a man's voice call out, "Harry Potter! Harry!"

"Is it a Death Eater?" Ginny whimpered.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Where'd the dog go?"

"What dog?" Petunia asked.

"A dog attacked one of the werewolves."

"One of them?" Vernon bellowed. "Where's the other?"

"We got it," Harry said.

Vernon sputtered, but all of them froze when the door quietly swung open and a starved-looking man with wild hair and an untrimmed beard stood before them. He wore nothing more than a hastily transfigured robe around his thin frame. A strange tattoo dominated his chest, and Harry wondered if it meant he was a Death Eater.

"Harry Potter," the man said.

Harry raised his wand.

"You look just like your father," the man said. "Except for your mother's eyes."

"Who are you?" Harry demanded.

"I'm the first person in this world to hold you, after your parents," the man said. "I'm your godfather. I was James Potter's best friend. My name is Sirius Black."

Harry felt a rush of terror from Ginny so strong he almost gasped from it. Sirius Black! She thought to him. He's the man that betrayed your parents, Harry. It was in all the books about you. He killed a bunch of muggles and went to Azkaban. He's a Death Eater!

Harry felt his eyes watering. "You weren't his friend," Harry said. "You betrayed him!"

All semblance of civility vanished. "Betrayed him! Betrayed! I would have died for James! I would have died for Lily! It's all lies. It's all…" He stopped his rant and sniffed the air. "I smell the rat. I smell…" His eyes locked onto Ginny. "You! I smell the rat on you. Who are you, girl!"

He started forward but Harry jumped to his feet and stood between them. "You leave Ginny out of this."

Behind them, Vernon cocked his shotgun. "Get out of this house, you freak!"

Black threw his head back to expose a row of blackened teeth. His laugh was frenetic and strained. "Freak? You call me a freak? I remember the day Petunia met you, you ass. Lily knew even then what kind of bastard you are. I'm not the freak."

Vernon leveled the shotgun, only to have it suddenly turn into a very large cod-a living, rather distraught cod that wiggled out of his hands. Black produced a wand. "It's not mine," he said, eying the stick sheepishly, "but it'll work in a pinch. Back against the wall."

Vernon, Petunia and Dudley backed against the wall. Harry stood still. "Don't you hurt them," Harry said. "I'm the one you want."

"Oh Harry, if your dad could see you, he'd be so proud," Black said. Then his eyes returned to Ginny. "With that hair and those cheekbones, I'd swear you were a Weasley, but there hasn't been a female one in generations."

Ginny stood slowly, her wand before her. "I'm a Weasley," she said.

"Hmmm," Sirius said. "The only Weasleys alive at the end were Arthur and Molly, and they already had six."

"I'm number seven."

Sirius laughed, again in a strained fashion. "Give them points for perseverance. One time McGonagall caught the two of them in the astronomy tower in their fourth year. It was the stuff of legends. I guess it's not surprising they ended up having seven kids. Too bad you're harboring the rat."

His wild laugh and almost pleasant smile ended abruptly, and his wand moved so fast neither Harry nor Ginny had a chance to respond as both were hit with paralysis spells. They fell back like frozen statutes.

Against the wall, Petunia gasped. Black stepped between the kids and removed their wands before he looked at Petunia. "Whatever wards were supposed to be here are gone," he said matter-of-factly. "Those werewolves were here for Potter. Even after I take Harry, more will be back. Or maybe worse. Get only what you need and leave. Leave and don't come back."

"You're not going to kill us?" Petunia whispered.

"Not today," Black said. He knelt down beside the frozen bodies of Harry and Ginny, winked lasciviously at Petunia, and then all three disappeared with a very loud pop.

/o\/o\/o\/o\

A blaring howl brought the headmaster tumbling from his quarters off the headmaster's office. Fawkes was squawking in alarm as well while Dumbledore blundered past his desk and chair to the rows of instruments. He passed his hand over the device that was wailing, and blanched.

He instantly strode to his floo and threw in a handful of powder. "Amelia Bones!"

A moment later a face emerged from the flames. "Albus, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Amelia, get aurors to Number 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging!" Dumbledore said. "Potter's wards have failed and he's not there!"

He cut the connection before the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement could respond, and a moment later flooed himself, still in his sleeping robes, to the home of Arabella Fig.

The witch came running out of her room as Dumbledore emerged. "Headmaster!" Fig cried. "What's wrong!"

"It's Harry!" Dumbledore said. He ran full tilt from Arabella's front door across the street. He reached the sidewalk just moments before six aurors apparated in around him. The lead auror, a tall man with rich black skin and a leopard-skin hat, nodded to him. "Headmaster. We were already in route. Hopkirk recovered several reports of underage of magic."

Before either man could say another word the front door opened and the Dursley family came barreling out with luggage under their arms. They froze as they saw Dumbledore and the other aurors.

Petunia dropped her bags and stalked across the grass until she stood glaring at the headmaster. And then, to the shock of everyone around them, she slapped him.

Hard.

"That's for your stupid blood protections!" she hissed. "Didn't stop those werewolves from just waltzing into my home, did they? They almost killed my Duddykins!"

Duddykins was, at this moment, climbing into a car with both his hands covering his rather large posterior.

"Madame, I do not understand what happened," Dumbledore said, shocked by more than just the stinging slap.

"Werewolves happened!" she said. "Then that wild man came! Black. He came and killed them both. Harry and Ginny, he killed them both and spelled away! So much for your stupid protections."

The other aurors were staring at each other in horror. "Black?" Shacklebolt said. "Sirius Black was here?"

"He was! I recognized him from Lily's wedding!"

Dumbledore staggered as if struck by a truck. "Merlin's beard," he whispered. "How can this be! Black was in Azkaban!"

"He escaped," Shacklebolt said. "He escaped just days ago. But there was no way he should have been able to come here. The blood wards kept Harry's records private."

Dumbledore stepped forward and waved his wand through the air. "They never recharged!" Dumbledore said. He turned to Petunia. "You must tell me. Did you kick him out? Was this last week too much!"

"No!" Petunia screeched. "It was actually…" She stopped herself. "I didn't kick him out. They were in their room. They killed one of the werewolves. A dog killed another. Then Black came and took them away."

"But there's no way the wards could have failed," Dumbledore said. "They were keyed into Harry's very magical core. They would recharge every year upon his return until he was an adult. Until he was…." Dumbledore suddenly knelt down and covered his face with one hand.

"Albus," Shacklebolt started, concerned.

The headmaster slowly stood and stared at the house. "You should send men in to secure the werewolves," Albus said with such exhaustion and sadness he appeared on the verge of tears.

Shacklebolt merely nodded, and two of his men ran into the house to begin the clean up.

Dumbledore turned to Petunia. "Dear lady, I have done us all a grave disservice. The bond that Harry and Miss Weasley share equates to a marriage bond in wizarding society. And like in the muggle world, the act of marriage is considered an emancipating event. Though he is not yet even thirteen, the bond has magically made him an adult. And because he was an adult, the wards simply ceased to charge."

Petunia found herself shaking. "And so that vile man was able to just waltz in and take them both. Their blood is on your hands, Dumbledore. Just like my sister's blood."

She strode past the headmaster to the car where her husband and son waited. She did not look back as they drove out of the drive way and sped away.

"This is bad, Albus," Shacklebolt said. "If words gets out that the Boy Who Lived has been…"

"He's not dead, Kingsley," Dumbledore said. "My trace may have lost his location, but from what I saw he was still alive. But why? What does Sirius hope to accomplish with this?"

"To finish what he started twelve years ago," Shacklebolt said. "To finish off the Potter line."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said. "Although if he were interested in their deaths, it would have been just as easy to allow the werewolves to finish the job."

"You don't think he sent them?"

"Did you hear Mrs. Dursley? A large black dog fought one of the werewolves. Black is an unregistered animagus. His form is a large grim. And now, I'm afraid, he has the savior of the wizarding world at his mercy."