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The Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Harry's POV

You know, I don't believe in true love. I don't think I ever did . . . well, it doesn't matter anyways. I don't anymore, so it's all cool. That's all that matters – I don't believe in it anymore. Love . . . just hurts people. It's sort of like a plague, if you'd like to use that as the analogy. It'll eat you up from the inside. And then, when you fall down the stairs due to incompetent metabolism and heartbreak, you'll never know what hit you. It's the flaw of humankind. It's a good thing I got away from it in time. (Hey, that rhymed!)

I'll admit that I might have believed in love (I was young and foolish, so don't blame me) at one point. But that all changed. Do you know exactly when my view on life changed? Perhaps the date that I opened my eyes and thought about things around me for myself . . . for the first time?

To be honest, it wasn't exactly a specific date, not like a holiday, although it might as well have been. It was . . . a gradual change – a gradual yet very sudden change. It was an abrupt change that shocked my perception of electromagnetic waves. Hmm . . . okay class, let's all take a lucky guess: in which year did Harry Potter become a true individual human being? And how did it happen? Anyone . . . ?

You guessed it – good job! It's happened almost two years ago, if my calculations are correct. And it was all due to an incident that should not – wait, correction: never – be discussed in the near future. Sir Dumbledore once said that, "It does not do to dwell on the past." Frankly, I agree wholeheartedly. Some things are just not meant to be discussed. Better to keep these thoughts buried away in a place where they cannot cause you or anyone around you harm.

And don't even get me started on life! I mean, come on guys! Life is . . . quite pointless. It's just not worth the struggle, is it? You do things, you suffer losses, and you gain joy only to lose it; rinse and repeat! What kind bull is that? It's all really an endless cycle of strife, pain, and hardships. And I've had plenty of heated arguments with Hermione about this topic in the past.

Ha . . . Hermione. She was amazing, just bloody freakin' brilliant! Hermione was my sister in every way possible. She was always there for me. And like every brother and sister in this damned world, we got into numerous conflicts over the silliest of things. One of the constant arguments we had with one another was about the meaning and point of life. Oh goody!

Hermione always seemed to appreciate life. I didn't. She said that there was a purpose to it. But she never discovered this so-called 'purpose' to life. It's a shame really. But she sure tried to press me into putting faith in life. I rebuked her every time. I always argued that she was wrong. I always argued against her. It was . . . quite entertaining.

There was this one instance where she made up this whole freakishly intricate and super complicated equation to prove that life wasn't a static, but rather dynamic experience, meaning that there was a point to it. According to Hermione, dynamic meant that life varied from person to person: no two people could lead the same life. And you know what? She actually got acknowledged for the whole thing. Many of the Hogwarts' teachers praised her work, especially the Arithmancy teacher. Snape even threw her dubious nods from time to time, which said something.

You see, beginning in sixth year (or was it the middle of sixth year?), Hermione and I made a bet. Basically, we had to convince the other about our views on life. I had to prove to her, that life was plainly put – stupid. She had to prove to me that I was wrong. It was all for fun, really. But being the person she is, Hermione took it to a whole new level, pumping out what she called: the 'Equation of Life.'

This equation combined Muggle mathematics and concepts from Arithmancy to prove that life was a dynamic and unique experience for every individual. But I won't go into much detail about it now. I don't quite recall how the equation went exactly: there was a bunch of mind-boggling variables and you know how atrocious I am at all things related to math. Anyways, let's backtrack a year.

At the end of my fifth year, I began to slowly isolate myself from the people around me, or at least I tried to. For those of you who don't know, my pals and I went to the Department of Mysteries that year to save someone who was never in danger. That year not only signified the death of my dogfather – which had been entirely my fault and nobody can tell me otherwise – but it was also the year that my relationship with 'the love of my life' became rather ropey. It was also the year that I redefined the word 'friends' and rediscovered the 'social pyramid.'

Now that I come to think of it . . . what in the bloody hell was I thinking? She was the love of my life? Really! Hah . . . as if! There's no way that . . . never mind.

That year genuinely changed me; whether for the better or the worse, the answer still remains unanswered.

After the Battle at the Ministry, I started giving myself some private time. Every night, after dinnertime, I would fish out a Muggle pen and some paper, and go to sit out by the Black Lake. Sometimes, I would lay down under the phantom moonlight and write about the random emotions ready to burst out of my chest. Other times, I would gaze back into the clear lake water, examine the tired wrinkled of my young face, and simply weep myself to sleep on the bare grass.

There is always this one point in life that really changes people. A point where children mature and adults become more conscious of reality. A time of realization. A time of heightened self-awareness. A time of where there's a large-scale explosion of epiphanies.

And it was during one of these countless nights of despair that I realized that I would probably die a virgin. It was the saddest moment of my life, even sadder than the hundreds of other sad moments in my damn life.

I would die a virgin. Quite sad, isn't it? Now, you might be thinking: what the bloody freakin' hell does this have to do with anything? Well, it doesn't. . . .

Okay, maybe it does.

...

"James is gonna die a virgin!" Sirius chanted in a singsong voice. "James is gonna die a virgin!"

Harry sighed and clutched his forehead. "Would you just . . . shut up? You're giving me a headache."

"Jamesie is gonna die a virgin!" Sirius continued chanting. "And I'm gonna bone a bunch of really hot Persians!"

"What is he going on about?" Harry asked as his gaze wandered across the Great Hall.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Sirius just realized that two Persian chicks live right across from his house. They're twins and they're both fourth-year Ravenclaws. And they were giving him 'The Look' yesterday. So naturally, he thinks that he's some sort of sex god or something."

"They're not just any chicks, mate." Sirius gave Remus a pointed look. "They're flaming hot chicks sent from . . . Persia. And to answer your other question James: just give up on Lily or you'll stay a virgin for the rest of your life. It'd be for the best if you took my advice and started boning other witches."

Harry nodded uncertainly. "Your . . . advice, Sirius?"

"Yeah, my advice is pretty legit, don't you think? Say," Sirius twisted his neck to get a better view of the Ravenclaw table. "Did they just . . . give me 'The Look' again?" He grinned. "Oh, they want it bad, don't they?"

"I doubt it," Remus mumbled, causing Peter to snigger.

"What are you guys doing over the holidays?" Harry sparked up an intelligent conversation for once.

"Well, I'm going to be with my mum the entire time. She gets very emotional whenever I ditch her to come over to your house during the summers. So this year, I'll be with her the entire summer, especially since she's been getting very sick lately."

Peter nodded solemnly. "Especially after that heart attack, right?"

Remus nodded. "And my father's just a freakin' sun of the beach."

"You hate your father?" Harry asked. He didn't know much about Remus's familial history.

"Eh," Remus blew a few bangs away from his eyes, "he tries his best to support us. But he's never himself. Besides, he's almost never home. He doesn't try to comfort mum, so I hate him for that. He's always working and never really . . . affectionate. I'm the only one that ever cares for mum."

"You know, the Potters are pretty well off financially and —" Harry started.

Remus held up his hand and smiled while shaking his head. "Nah, mate, it's not about money. We've had this discussion millions of times. I'm fine."

Sirius spoke up. "You think they'd object if I dragged both of them to the broom closet next to the kitchens and snogged them both at the same time? Or should I do each of them separately?" He looked at the other boys. "Because I don't want to spark up too much competition between the sisters."

Harry managed a smile and snorted. "You should follow your heart."

Sirius nodded boldly. "You're right. I should snog the both of them at the same time in public." Remus and Peter let out jocund laughs. Sirius frowned. "What's so funny?"

..

Dumbledore got up and stretched out his arms. After a few moments, the noise level had settled down to the very minimal. "I would like to congratulate the graduating class of 1973." Dumbledore paused as there was a roar of cheers. The headmaster's eyes twinkled with joy upon seeing the happy faces of dozens of students from all across the room. He held up his hands up again, signaling for another round of silence. "Hopefully, Hogwarts has taught each and every one of you something vital that shall provide you with the essential tools to succeed in life."

Some students were teary-eyed; some girls were sobbing; some boys were given other boys masculine hugs. Despite the various houses, they all looked up at the headmaster with respect.

"Hogwarts will always be one of the most important adventures in your lives. Here, you have made friends, outgrown your childhoods, and learned life lessons. Most importantly, you have all learned that the right thing is not always the easy thing to do." Dumbledore paused and looked down at his feet. "Mala tempora currunt," the old man mumbled to himself, but some of the staff members heard him and nodded in agreement while others looked at him with perplexed looks. He looked back at the anxious students. "That is all."

"Now?" Peter whispered. The student body seemed tense.

Harry looked around and realized that everyone's attention was on the headmaster. "Ready. Hit it."

Remus nudged Sirius. The four pranksters took out their wands at the same time and discretely pointed them under the Gryffindor table.

"One—two—three!" Remus hissed. At this, the four boys twirled their wands in the same hand motion and let loose a stray of colored spells. The spells began to whiz under the table like firecrackers. Many of the Gryffindors jumped up from their seats. Within seconds, the multicolored spells had reached the end of the Gryffindor table and had multiplied into dozens of stray lights. As the lights began to exit from the under the wooden table, sparks scattered and dispersed throughout the air. Students began to laugh and wave their hands raucously. The staff didn't bother to fix the mess and joined the celebration.

Harry pointed his wand at the charmed ceiling and whispered, "Incendio." A purple and green flame left his wand and joined the lights whirling around in the air. Upon contact with the charmed ceiling, the purple flame burst and activated the preset mechanism that Harry had set up a few nights ago. The ceiling rumbled and the projected sky began to dim. Before anyone could question what was going on, it began to drizzle fervently.

"Holy fudge, mate." Sirius gaped as the rain poured down hard. No matter what spell the students and staff tried, they could not dispel the rainwater. Harry caught Dumbledore's gaze; the headmaster nodded in approval.

Remus gave Harry a sincere grin. "Good one."

Harry swelled up with a tad bit of pride. "Thanks."

As the rain continued to pour down, it accumulated and eventually flooded the floor. Peter dove onto the floor and began to paddle his arms. "Hey, who wants to race me to the other side of the table?"

Sirius blinked twice before letting a feral grin consume his face. "Get back here, Pete." He too dove onto the flooded floor and swam towards Pete. A few other audacious students took Sirius and Peter as an example and turned the Great Hall into their personal swimming pool.

"Albus!" McGonagall scolded the headmaster. "Shouldn't we stop them?"

The headmaster didn't say anything. He scrutinized his gaze on Harry. The young boy watched the scene before him unfold but did not participate in the activities of his fellow pranksters. The young man had a fake smile plastered on his face; a smile that did not quite match his eyes. "Mea culpa," the headmaster shook his head and sighed with a heavy heart.

...

Lily's POV

The end-of-the-year feast was much more exciting than I had anticipated it to be. It turns out that the four Gryffindor boy baddies actually have a sense of imagination. This time, they were able to manipulate the simple Lumos charm. I believe that they each cast a Lumos charm with the combined wrist movements to change the color of the light in combination with the Supersensory charm. Anyhow, they managed to create a delightful atmosphere. Who would have ever guessed?

And when I thought they couldn't get more creative, I saw James raise his wand into the air and shoot an Incendio charm with a color-changing wrist movement. His purple flame was used to set off some sort of preset mechanism. Because right after the purple flame impacted with a particular spot on the ceiling, it began to rain.

I'm not saying that I actually like any of them anymore than I did before. Heavens no! I'm just saying that . . . the four of them are more tolerable. Hopefully, this has marked a good change. I would love to see some more of their more imaginative pranks.

Well, it's sad leaving Hogwarts. This year, I feel much more mature than the previous years. Maybe it's because Dumbledore's speech struck me much more than ever before. In the end, he mumbled something in Latin. Whatever he said, it made me shudder. Does he know something that I don't?

Well, I'm currently in the girls' dorms. I've packed everything. Unlike last time, I didn't forget to pack anything. I double-checked everything this time! My fellow dorm-mates are still dressing up in Muggle clothes. But I don't understand why Silvia is putting make-up on. It's just a train ride.

Catherine, Mary, and Marlene are in the bathroom getting ready for the train ride as well. I don't understand why they're preparing for a train ride. I mean, I took a shower in the morning and that's good enough, right? It's not some sort of hot date, is it? Gosh.

And you know what? I think I'll go to the infirmary to get a few Dreamless Potions for the summer. I sometimes have a hard time falling asleep. The potion is really helpful at times.

It's twelve o' clock right now. The train will probably leave at one thirty. So that gives me at least half an hour to roam the castle.

..

The door to my right closed shut. Catherine exited from one of the side bathrooms. "Hey, Lils. Aren't you going to get ready for the train ride?"

I shook my head. "I don't understand why you need to get dressed up for the train ride."

Catherine blushed a bit but shrugged. "You never know." She looked at me. "Where are you going?"

I brushed my fiery red hair and attempted to straighten it. "I'm just going to the infirmary to get a few Dreamless Potions for the summer."

Catherine nodded. "Be back soon, 'kay dear?"

I smiled. "Yes, mother." I began descending the stairs that led to the common room but stopped midway. "Is that Potter?"

Catherine tiptoed behind me. "James Potter? Is Black there too?"

I frowned back at her but saved her the awkward questions. "What's Potter doing in the common room alone?"

"Yeah," Cathy nodded in agreement. "Why is he alone? Isn't Black always with him?" She whispered the last part in my left ear, pointing in his direction at the same time.

"I . . . don't know." I struggled to find answers but was unable to. And then, something caught my eye. "Is that a guitar on his back?"

"Guitar?" Catherine frowned. "I don't see anything."

"Wh-what do you mean you don't see anything?" I stuttered. I rubbed my eyes and focused on Potter's back. The guitar was plain in sight. "It's right there!"

"Lily . . . I don't really —"

"That green . . . guitar. On his back! Don't you see it?" I whispered furiously. Why couldn't she see the guitar?

"Are you alright, sweetie?" Catherine gave me a pitiful look. "You should really get some more sleep, Lils."

I gaped. The more I focused on James Potter, the more of a mystery he became.

...

Harry's POV

I didn't pack anything. Well, there wasn't much to pack to begin within the first place. I mean, the trunk was full of unopened books. It looks like James Potter never studied for any of his exams and still managed to scrape passing grades somehow. I wonder if he ever cheated. . . .

Well, there were some things that I made sure of shrinking into convenient size so I could place them in my pocket. I also made sure to pack the small books and pamphlets that were scattered around in the dormitory. They were mostly books on how to woo girls, pamphlets on how to cope with disasters (I don't know why James had this one), and books on how to incorporate pranking with dueling. Finally, I placed this thin green book (remember the one that I told you about earlier – the one with probably some sort of password?) in one of my back pants' pockets.

The Guitar of Slytherin was something that I couldn't shrink using magic. There's a reason as to why: there are some runes that make the guitar an indestructible masterpiece. By shrinking it, one would be destroying some sort of these vital internal mechanisms. So, Slytherin put a rune that prevented the users from shrinking the guitar. It has to do with Music Theory and the Magicks of Music. I don't know either theory so I won't get into that conversation now.

So instead of shrinking the guitar, I placed a minimalistic Disillusionment charm on it. Only those who had ever heard me play the guitar would be able to see it. I'm pretty sure nobody has ever heard me pluck a single string on this beauty so it's safe to assume that the guitar will remain invisible to almost everyone. I should think so.

Well, anyways, let's continue with something more interesting. Like how Zoe scared the frap out of me by popping behind me and saying, "She wants you."

Okay, let's backtrack a bit.

I was about to collect my Quidditch supplies and put them in a separate trunk when there was an audible pop from behind me. Naturally, I jumped up and fell backwards. I wasn't that lucky – I fell on my bum. And for all those who want to know, I have a sensitive bum so it bloody hurt!

"Ouch!" I bit my tongue and sprung onto my feet. I began to hop on both feet and rubbed my bum. Well, a passerby would have said that I was groping my bum . . . but that sounds wrong.

I looked to my left and realized that Zoe was standing there. She had a blush on her face. "I is sorry mister Potter. I did not meant to be shocking you."

I cringed but dismissed her apology. "It's okay." I rubbed my bum a bit more before composing a very cool stature. "Is there something you needed?"

Zoe nodded. "She is needing you." Before I could ask her what the hell she was going on about, the house elf gasped and popped away, mumbling something incoherent.

Okay, now I don't know how weird house elves are . . . but isn't that . . . just overkill?

At first, my mind dissolved into a nonfunctioning state. I frowned and sat down on the edge of my bed. Now, there are three ways of interpreting the above statement. Or at least three ways that I decided to decipher the aforementioned statement. Let's take a look at all three ways.

So first, I was like; She is needing me? So . . . she needs me? Why would anyone need me? Out of all the people at Hogwarts, why would anyone specifically choose me? Do you see what I'm getting at?

And then, I was like; She needs me? Why would a female need me? Why did it have to be a girl?

And finally, being the pervert I am (not); She needs me? Whoa! A girl actually needed me? Was it wrong of me to assume that the girl needed me inside of her? . . . Yeah, it probably was.

Well, I finally figured out that none of the above three hypotheses were valid. I realized that the girl that needed me was in fact the girl I had saved from the chamber five days ago – yeah, that seven-year-old witch. It had been a week since she had been knocked unconscious. And the little girl hadn't woken up since.

Instantly, I jumped to my feet and slung my guitar over my back. I hurriedly pushed my broomstick into one of the remaining empty luggage bags and stuffed in my uniform inside of it as well. I grabbed both bags of luggage and sprinted down the boys' dormitory stairs. After realizing that I could make my luggage lighter, I cast some nifty charms on the bag and rushed out of the common room. I had a feeling that someone was watching me, but what the hell. I always feel like somebody's watching me.

And I also felt like I dropped something while I was placing the Light-weight charm on my luggage. But I didn't bother looking back. I was too stupefied by the fact that the young girl had awoken.

...

Harry rushed out of the common room, leaving behind a befuddled Lily and Catherine. Lily stuttered before sighing. "I'd best get going."

Catherine nodded. "Be back soon. You wouldn't want to miss the train and be left behind here with old Dumbledore, now would you?"

Lily managed a smile. "No, I wouldn't."

Lily quickly descended the rest of the stairs and was about to exit the common room when something caught her eye. From the corner of her eye, she saw a thin green book.

Lily squinted her eyes and bent over to pick up the book. The cover of the book was woven in velvet. Lily frowned as she felt around the cloth. Whose book was this? Lily tried to open it but was unable to as there was some sort of latch or mechanism that locked it shut.

Lily turned the book around and focused on the fine engraving on the bottom. It read:

Property of James Potter. Do not touch.

"James Potter?" Lily mumbled out loud. Suddenly, the book began to vibrate. Lily dropped the book on the wooden floor. The latch on the front of the velvet green color came off loose.

Lily slowly picked up the thin book again. She tried to open it and was surprised to see that it opened up with ease this time. She opened the book to the back of the front cover and gaped in shock:

This is the diary of James Potter. Sirius, if you managed to open it, I'm going to kill you. Remus, please don't spread any rumors. Pete . . . be a nice kid and hand it right back.

...

Harry's POV

"I want to see Daddy Harry!" A shrill voice echoed from inside the infirmary.

I tried my best not to act surprised. I mean, the girl still remembered me! That was certainly an accomplishment, right? And she seemed to appreciate me more than Madame Pomfrey. The latter made me feel a bit . . . smug about myself.

I slowly pushed the infirmary doors open and grinned at the sight in front of me. The little girl was retaliating against Madame Pomfrey's grasp and was throwing some sort of tantrum.

I calmly strode forward, making sure that neither of them noticed my entrance until the very last minute. When I was a few feet from the two, I cleared my throat.

The girl looked up and frowned. After a few seconds, she seemed to recognize me and squealed. "Daddy Harry!" She somehow managed to break loose of Madame Pomfrey's death grip and pounced on me. And I . . . fell on my bum again. Ouch! I toppled backwards and lay on my back.

"Hey, pumpkin," I covered up the pain in my voice easily.

The little girl got up and sat up on my chest. She looked down at me with a curious expression on her face. "Who's a pumpkin?"

I laughed. "That's you nickname, pumpkin."

The girl gasped and scowled cutely. "I don't like that nicki-name. It's ugly."

I laughed again and managed to sit up on the hard marble floor. Madame Pomfrey sent me a worried glance but I shook off her concerns. "I'm fine."

"Thank goodness you're here. She's been pestering me the whole day."

My eyes widened. "She's been awake since morning?"

Madame Pomfrey nodded and had the decency to look sheepish. "I'm sorry that —"

I let out a disgruntled sigh despite my cheery mood. "Ma'am, I think I specifically asked you to inform me when she awoke as soon as possible."

"I am sorry that I did not inform you earlier. I just had a few tests to do on her."

I narrowed my eyes. "Did you scour her mind?"

The women's eyes widened. "Merlin, no! I would never invade another's privacy, no less a patient."

I nodded. "Thank you for taking care of her. Is there anything I should know in terms of her medical history?"

The healer shook her head. "She is completely healthy. No diseases. I am not sure about allergies or any such conditions. You would have to contact her medical Muggle pediatrician. In addition, I do not know her name."

I nodded. I looked down at the girl. She seemed to have a fearful look on her face. I frowned. "What's wrong?"

She hugged onto my leg tightly. "You won't leave me here, will you?"

I settled down on my knees and embraced the young girl. "Of course not, pumpkin. I'll never abandon you."

She looked up at me. "Do you —"

I smiled. "I promise. You'll always be with me from now on."

"All the time?"

I laughed. "Well, not all the time. I mean, you'll have to go to the bathroom on your own and –"

The girl giggled. "Yuck, Daddy."

Madame Pomfrey seemed to be pleased with the interaction between the girl and I. "Will she be staying with you the entire time?"

I nodded. "I would guess so."

"Does your father know?" She asked.

I paled a bit. "Um . . . not exactly, but I'm sure that I can convince him."

The healer nodded and bid her goodbye. "If you are ever in need of advice about the girl, you know where to find me."

I nodded. Little Pumpkin waved at her as the healer made her leave.

"Daddy?" I looked down at her.

"Yeah, pumpkin?" I asked her as I hoisted her in my arms. In comparison, she was half my height – almost.

"Can you not call me 'pumpkin' in front of other people?"

I chuckled. "Why would I do that?"

"Because it's an icky name. And it's . . . em–ba–ras–sing."

"An icky name?" I asked.

"Yep. Can you call me something prettier?"

I rolled my eyes. "Names aren't . . . pretty."

"Yeah they are!" The girl huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. "Harry is a really pretty name."

I bit my lip and nodded my head. "Sure, pumpkin." The girl scowled. I laughed and paused to think of a witty name. "I'll call you . . . Isis."

"Is–is?" She frowned.

"No, it's pronounced 'eye-sis.'" I annunciated the name correctly.

The girl clapped her hands. "That's a really pretty name!"

"And a very prominently noble name as well. A good choice overall." A new voice interrupted our conversation from the right. I looked in the general direction of the voice and wasn't shocked to see Dumbledore.

"You're Grandpa Dore!" The girl giggled and leapt out from my hands. She ran forward to embrace the headmaster. The headmaster wore an expression of genuine shock before registering the girl into an embrace.

"Hello, sir – erm, I mean, Dumbledore." I smiled.

"Are you going to be bringing the girl home with you?" The headmaster asked.

I nodded. "Yes. She's my ward after all."

"Does your father know?" He re-uttered Madame Pomfrey's question.

"Um . . . no. But I think I can somehow convince him."

"Well, Charles can be very stubborn sometimes. Convincing him might take a while."

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean, sir?"

"And in addition, I think it would not be wise to ride home with young Isis. Rumors would arise, no doubt."

"I don't care about rumors, Dumbledore."

"But if news of this reaches Tom Riddle, we might encounter some problems, don't you think?"

"But what would Isis have to do with Voldemort?"

"I am just saying that it is not wise to ride the train home."

I scowled. "Are you hiding something from me?"

The headmaster dodged my question nicely. "And it would be wise that you gave Peter Pettigrew a chance."

"What do you mean?" Damn my short attention span. I completely forgot about the previous concerns.

Dumbledore produced a vile containing a silvery white fluid that I recognized to be a memory. "When you were discussing your suspicions with Sirius Black after you first day here, Peter heard you and made an Unbreakable Vow of loyalty to the Marauders."

My eyes widened. "He was there? He was eavesdropping?"

"If you wish to review this memory," Dumbledore handed me the vial containing the white memory, "you may do so."

I frowned. "What do you want me to do?"

"Oh . . . nothing." Dumbledore dodged yet another very vital question. "And as I was saying before, it would be for the best if you did not ride home on the train."

I was so overwhelmed with the information Dumbledore had provided me with that I was unable to think rationally. "Um . . . yeah? I think?"

"Splendid." Dumbledore handed me a brass coin. "Say 'valor' to activate it."

"Wait a seconds . . . is this a portk—"

Before I could go on, Isis pounced on me again. "Don't leave, Harry!"

"I'm not leaving, Isis." I turned to Dumbledore and frowned. "But why a portkey?"

"Just to be safe, Harry."

I sighed. No matter how weird Dumbledore's requests got, they were always helpful and a huge life-saver. "Hold on tight, Isis, and close your eyes." The young girl complied. "Valor."

I closed my eyes and felt the two of us dematerialize away from the castle. After a few seconds, we rematerialized onto a wooden porch. I opened my eyes and looked at my surroundings. A cool breeze ruffled my hair.

"Where are we, Harry?" Isis looked up at me and tugged at the hem of my shirt.

I frowned. "Um . . . I think we're—"

A mid-aged man who bore a very close resemblance to James Potter opened the door. "James?" He looked at me, and then the girl. "What are you doing here? And who is that girl?"

"Erm. . . ." I can explain? By the look on Charles's face, this meeting would be an unhappy one.