Chapter One

Dudley Demented

Ah it was a beautiful evening and it was also the hottest day in summer so far. Evening was drawing close and science had filled the air and lay over the large, quiet square houses that lay over Privet Drive. All the cars were usually gleaming now stood dusty in the driveway and lawns that were beautifully green now became patchy and of a dull yellow; the use of hosepipes that have now been banned due to drought. Deprived of their usual car washing and lawn mowing pursuits, all of the inhabitants of Privet Drive had defeated into the shade of their cool and air-conditioned house's, with the windows thrown wide open hoping! Nothing cool but nonexistent breeze to be blown through the windows. The only person who stayed outdoors was a teenage boy who was lying in the grass flat on his back in a flower garden outside of number four.

He was a skinny, black haired, bespectacled boy who had been pinched, has this slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a very short amount of time. His jeans were torn and very dirty from lying in the garden bed, his shirt is baggy and faded that is too big for him, and the soles of his shoes were peeling away and exposing his feet. Harry Potter's appearance did not endear his neighbors, who were the type of people who thought the scruffiness ought to be punished, but rather he hid himself behind a large hydrangea bush this evening so that he could become invisible to the other people passing by. In fact, the only reasonable way that he could be spotted was if his Uncle Vernon or his Aunt Petunia stuck their heads out of the living room window and looked straight down into their flower garden that was below him.

On the whole, Harry thought that he was to be congratulated on his extraordinary idea about bidding in a flower bush. He was not however very comfortable lying on hot, hard earth, but on the other hand, nobody has seen him yet, and they were grinding their teeth so loudly the he couldn't hear the news, or shooting some very nasty questions at him, as it had happened every time he had tried sitting down in the living room and started watching the television with his aunt and uncle.

Almost as if this thought had fluttered through the open window, Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle all of a sudden spoke. "Glad to see that the boys stopped trying to butt in. Where could he be anyway though?"

"I don't really know where he went." Said Aunt Petunia unconcerned. "It's not in the house at least."

The Cheapest immediately fell into a deep silence. Harry could now listen to the jingle about a Fruit And Bran breakfast cereal will he watched he spent some time watching Mrs. Right, the bratty, cat loving old lady that lives on nearby Wisteria Walk, stumbled slowly past number fourteen. She was frowning and muttering to herself.

Uncle Vernon grunted.

"Watching the news in the living room..." He said scathingly. "Well I would like to know what kind of things here are really doing. As if a normal boy cares what's on the news - Dud-ley hasn't got a single clue about what has been going on and no doubt he shouldn't know who the Prime Minister is! Anyway, it's not as if there would be anything about wizards on our non magic news."

" Vernon shhhhhhhh!" Said Aunt Petunia. "The freaking window is open and don't talk so loud."

"Oh err yes sure thing my darling. And I deeply and greatly apologize to me dear..."

The Dursleys fell extremely silent. Harry was listening to the jingle of something about Fruit And Bran breakfast cereal while he watched Mrs. Frigg the batty, cat loving old lady cause she lived on the very close by from Wisteria Walk, stumbling slowly past number four. She was frowning and started to mutter to herself. Harry was very pleased about the fact that he was mostly concealed behind the flower bush; Mrs. Right had very recently taken the liberty to ask him around for tea whenever she had met him in the streets. She had just rounded around the corner and had now vanished from view before Uncle Vernon's voice could float out of the window again.

"Rudder went out to have tea with his friends?"

"At the Polkisses'," said Aunt Petunia fondly. "He's got a great group of friends and there are so many of them. They say that he is very popular..."

Harry repressed a snort with great difficulty. "The Cheapest really were astonishingly stupid about their only son Dudley; they had swallowed all of his dim witted and stupid lies about how he is going to have tea with a different member of his gang about every night of his summer holidays. Harry knew that it's perfectly clear that Dudley had not been having tea with any of his great group of friends; but rather he and his gang had been spending every evening vandalizing the playgrounds, smoking on the streets in the corners and alleyways, and throwing those dreadful stone at the cars that was passing by and at the children that was still outside at that time. Harry had seen some of the dreadfully horrible things that happen to the children and also he had seen them at it during his calm evening walks around Little Whining; he had spent most of his holiday wandering the streets, searching and scavenging for newspapers from recycling bins along the way.

The opening notes of music that heralded when the seven o'clock news came to Harry's ears and his stomach turned over. Perhaps after tonight or maybe after another month of waiting and this could be the night that brings news about what Voldemort could be up to.

"Record numbers of stranded and large amounts of holidaymakers fill the airports trying to get on airplanes that would take them here and while the Spanish baggage handlers have a strike it reaches its second week."

"Give them all a life long vacation and that would be what I would like them to do to these Spanish baggage handlers." Snarled Uncle Vernon over the end of the journalist sentence, but no matter at the minute; meanwhile outside in the flower bed, Harry who's stomach began to turn and unclench itself. If anything that would have happened, it should be the first thing that the news should be talking about; death and destruction would happen would be far more important than a few stranded holidaymakers. . . .

He now could let out a long, deep slow breath of relief and stared up at the beautiful brilliant blue sky. Everyday of this summer it has been the same; tension among the people, the expectation that Voldemort and his loyal band of deatheaters, this would be only a temporary relief of some sort, and then again the amount of tension that would rise up again. . . and it's always growing more and more insistent every single time, the only question is why there has been nothing happening yet. . . .

He just has to keep listening now, just in case that there would be a small amount of clue, not to be recognized for whit it would really mean by the muggles an unexplainable disappearance of some sort, or perhaps, even some strange accident could do . . . but these baggage handlers strike would follow up with the evening news on a mysterious drought in the southeast ("I hope that he's listening right next to the door!" Bellowed Uncle Vernon, "with his sprinklers on at three in the morning!"); Just afterward a helicopter flew by that had nearly crashed into a field in Surrey, then comes the famous actress's divorce from he wonderfully famous husband ("as if we are very interested in their sordid affairs," sniffed Aunt Petunia, who by now has been following the case of what seems obsessively in every magazine the she could lay her small and bony hands on a few copies).

Harry closed his eyes now against the blazing evening sky as the newsreader has said, "And finally, Hungry the budgie has found a new novel way of keeping you cool this hot dry summer. Bunny, who lives at the Five Feathers in Barnsley, has just learned how to water ski! Mary Sorkin went to find out more about what has been learned. . . ."

Harry now willingly opened his eyes again. As if they had reached there max power of water along budgerigars, there would be nothing else that would be worth hearing about. So now he rolled very cautiously on to his front and slowly raised himself onto his knees and elbows, preparing to draw out of the flower bush from under the window.

He has now moved for about two inches when several things started to happen in a very short amount of time and was with very quick success.

A loud, echoing crack that could be heard broke through the sleepy silence of the street that was like a gunshot that has just been fired; a cat just now streaked out from under a dusty old car that has been parked and the cat flew out of anybody's sight; with a shriek, and a bellowing oath, and the sound of breaking China came the Dursley's nice and clean living room, and as if though that Harry had been waiting for this particular signal, he jumped straight on to his feet patted himself off, while at the same time pulling himself up from the waistband of his jeans a thin wooden wand as if he were unsheathing a sword or knife. But before he could do anything to draw himself up to full height, the very top of his head had collided with the Dursley's open window, and now the loud resultant crash made his Aunt Petunia scream even and ever louder.

Harry now has began to feel that as if his head had been split into two pieces; with his eyes streaming, he swayed skittle, and had been trying to focus on the street and now spotted the source of the notice, but he had barely been able to stand up straight and now staggered to get upright again when to large scary purple hands reached out of the window and as the hands closed tightly around his throat.

"Put your wand away now Harry Potter!" Uncle Vernon snarled very loudly into Harry's ear. "Now I say before anyone sees that you have a wand!"

"Get your dirty hands off of me Uncle Vernon!" as Harry gasped for breath; after a few seconds they strangled , Harry pulled at his uncle's giant sausage like fingers with his left hand, while his right hand maintained a firm grip on his raised wand. Then all of a sudden the pain on the top of Harry's head gave him a particularly nasty throb, Uncle Vernon yelped and suddenly released Harry as though he had received an nasty electric shock - as if some invisible force had seemed to have surged through his nephew, making it hard for him to hold.

Panting and out of breath, Harry fell forward over the hydrangea bush, straightened himself up, and stared around. There was no sign of what had caused the loud cracking noise, but however there were several faces that were peering through the various nearby windows. Harry stuffed his wand hastily back into the pockets in his jeans and tried to look innocent.

"Hey neighbor, it's a wonderfully lovely evening isn't it." Shouted Uncle Vernon, waving to his next door neighbor who happens to Mrs. Number Seven, who was glaring at what had just happened from behind her net of beautiful curtains. "Did you hear that car backfire just about now? That car gave my dear Petunia and me quite a fright.

He continued to give his neighbor a grin in the most horrible, manic way until all if not most of all the curious neighbors that has their heads out of the windows has reasonably disappeared behind of the windows, the the awful grin faded to become a grimace look of utter rage as he quietly beckoned Harry back towards him.

Harry slowly took a few steps closer to his dreadful uncle, taking careful care to stop at the just right area movements short of the point in which Uncle Vernon's dangerously outstretched hands could resume their dreadful wrangling.

"What in the hell you little devil do you darn mean by taking out your wand and pointing it right at me and these awfully nice neighbors? Boy!" Asked Uncle Vernon in a nasty croaky voice that now was trembling with furry and anger directly at Harry.

"What in the freaking hell do you mean what I should do? And what do you think I was doing trying to get a look on the news. What else do you think I could do? I definitely don't think I could use magic." Said Harry coldly. He kept looking left and right up the street, still hoping to see the person who had made such an awful cracking noise.

"Making a very loud racket aren't you? By trying to make such noise as if someone is shooting a starting postal right outside our front door."

"I did not make a single bit of the sort of noise." said Harry very firmly.

Aunt Petunia's thin, tight, horsey and dirty face now started to appear out of the window beside Uncle Vernon's wide, extremely purple face. She looked livid.

"Why were you lurking outside of our beautiful window?"

"Yes, yes very good point my sweet Petunia! What were the freaking hell you doing under our window you silly boy?

"Listening to your muggle news trying to get information about Voldemort. So please do you think that you could stop using that face now." Said Harry in a resigned voice.

While his aunt and uncle exchanged some rather sinister looks of outrage.

"Listening to the news, again?"

"Well it has to change everyday am I right about that?" Said Harry.

" Well don't you dare try and get too clever with me, boy! I would like to know what in the freaking hell are you trying to do. What are you really up to? And don't you dare even try to give me any more of this listening to the news excuse any more! You know perfectly well what your lot is doing. . . ."

"Uh. Be careful, Vernon!" Breathed Aunt Petunia, and Uncle Vernon very quickly lowered his voice so that Harry could hardly hear him. ". . .That your lot doesn't get on our news!"

"So is that all you know," said Harry.

The Cheapest goggled a look at him for a few seconds, then Aunt Petunia said, "You are a nasty little liar. What about those" she had too begun to lower her voice so that Harry would have to lip read the next word, "Owls doing if they are not bringing you the news!"

"Aha!" Said Uncle Vernon in a loud triumphant whisper. "You are trying to get that one, boy! As if we didn't know you get all of your news from those pestilential birds!"

Harry now stood there and hesitated for only a moment. It would have to cost him something to tell them the truth this time, even though his aunt and uncle could still not possibly know how extremely bad Harry would have felt about admitting it.

"The owls . . . aren't bringing me the news." Said Harry tonelessly.

"I don't think I could believe that," said Aunt Petunia.

"Not much more than I would believe those words too." Said Uncle Vernon forcefully.

"We know that you are up to something funny," said Aunt Petunia.

"We are not that stupid, you know," said Uncle Vernon.

"Well that would have to be news to me," said Harry, now with his temper steadily rising, and before the Dursleys could call him back, he had already wheeled himself out of the way, and has already crossed through the front lawn, stepped carefully I've the low garden wall, and was now striding off up the street.

He was in deep trouble now and he just knew it. He would have to face all that his aunt and uncle would have for him later and pay the price for his utterly rude behavior, but he did not really care about it very much just at this moment, he has a much more pressing matter on his mind to tend to.

Harry was very sure that the cracking sound had been made by someone Apparating or even could be someone Disapparating. It was exactly like the sort of sound that Dobby the house elf had made when he managed into thin Air. Was it at all possible that it could have been Dobby who was here on Privet Drive? Or could it have been that Dobby had been following him around right at this very moment? As if this particular thought had just now occurred to him as he wheeled around and stared back down Privet Drive, but as if it has appeared to be completely deserted again and Harry was sure that Dobby did not know how to become invisible. . . .

He calmly walked onwards, hardly aware of the very route that he was taking, for he had pounded through these streets so very often as of lately that with just his feet could carry him to his favorite haunts automatically. Every few steps he would stop and glance back and look over his shoulder. Someone magical could have been near him as he was often lying among Aunt Petunias dying begonias, he was very sure of it. Why hadn't they come over to speak to him, why hadn't they made any contact, why were they always hiding from him now?

And then, just when he was feeling the frustration something had suddenly peaked, now his certainty leaked away.

Perhaps it had not been that a magical sound after all. Perhaps it could be that he was so desperate for the very tiniest of signs of contact from the world to which point he had belonged to that he was just simply overreacting to the perfectly ordinary sounds. Could he be positively sure that it had not been the obvious sound of something breaking inside of a neighbor's house.

Harry now felt a dull, sinking sensation in his stomach and, suddenly before he knew it, the feeling of hopelessness that had plagued him all summer now rolled over him once again. . . .

Tomorrow morning he would be awoken by the alarm at five o'clock in the morning so that he could pay the owl that delivered the Daily Prophet - but was there any point in continuing to take it? Harry now had merely glanced at the front page before throwing it aside these days; when the idiots who ran the paper would finally realize that Voldemort was indeed back it would be headline news, and that would be the only kind of new Harry cared about.

Also if he was very lucky, there would also be owls that would be carrying letters from his best friends, Ron and Hermione, though with any expectation he has had that their letters would be bringing him the news he has long been waiting for since being dashed.

"We can't say that much about you know what, obviously. . . .'' We have been told not to say anything that would have been important in case our letters go astray. . . ." "There's a fair amount of these sorts of things going on, we'll try to tell you about everything whenever we get to see you soon. . . ."

But when were they actually going to see him again? Nobody seemed to be too bothered about it with a precise date. All Hermione has scribbled were, "I expect that we will be seeing you quite soon" inside of his birthday card, but how could he have been sure that it was indeed soon? As far as Harry could have told from the very vague hints in their letters, Hermione and Ron were in the same place as it seems, presumably at Ron's parents house. He could hardly bear to think of the thing, the pair of them having fun together at the Burrow when he was stuck here on Piece Drive. In fact, he was so freaking angry with them that he had thrown both of their birthday presents of Honeydukes chocolate away unopened, even though he had deeply regretted this after eating a horrible wilting salad that Aunt Petunia had provided for dinner that night.

And what in the heck had Ron and Hermione been busy getting their hands into. Why wasn't Harry a part of any of the things that they were doing? Had he not proved himself over the many things that he has done and is not that he is capable of handling so much more than they have handled themselves? Could it be that they have forgotten all of the things he had to do and get out of trouble for doing it? Hadn't it been he who was the one who had to enter that horrible graveyard and watched how Cedric was being murder and then been tied to that tombstone and nearly killed. . . ?

Don't even try to think about whatever that has happened in that horrible graveyard like the way that they would have wanted me to think, Harry told himself sternly for the hundredth time ever that summer. It was bad enough that he has kept revisiting the thing that took place in the graveyard in his horrible nightmares, even without dwelling on it in his waking moments too.

He now turned a corner into Magnolia Present; but half way along he passed the narrow alleyway down the side of a garage where he had first seen his godfather. Sirius, had 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 have been very frustrating for you to understand. . . ." "Keep your nose clean and everything will be okay soon. . . ." Be very careful of your surroundings and don't you dare do anything that would be each or could even expose you to the world. . . ."

Well, hmm thought Harry, as he began to cross into Magnolia Present, and was now turning towards Magnolia Road, and was headed towards the darkening playground, he had (tried by and at large) done what his late godfather Sirius has advised multiple time; he had at least resisted the very temptation to tie his large and bulky trunk to his broomstick and started setting off for the Burrow by himself. As a very well known fact is that Harry thought that his awful behavior might have been very good considering how extremely frustrated and angry he had felt about being stuck on Privet Drive for this long, nearly reduced to hiding among flower beds in the dreadful hope that there would be something worth hearing that might have pointed into what Lord Voldemort was doing. Never the less, it was quiet a galling experience to be told not to be to rash nor not to do anything that would set something off the rails by the man who had to serve twelve years in the wizard prison, Azkaban, and escaped, that would have attempted to try and commit the murder of those who he had been badly convicted for in the first place, then poof gone on the run with a stolen hippogriff. . . .

Harry vaulted over the very securely locked park gate and has set off running across the parched grass. The park was now as empty as all of the surrounding streets. When he reached the swings he sank deep into the only swing that Dudley and his group of wonderful friends did not manage to break yet, and now he coiled one of his arms around both of the chains, and stared off moodily at the dark ground of the park. He would have not been able to have another chance at trying to hide in the Cheapest very lovely and usually beautiful flower garden ever again after what has happened today. Starting tomorrow he would have to try and really think about it and come up with some brand spanking new and fresh ideas about what he could do to try to listen to the news again. While in the meantime, he would have nothing new to be looking forward to accept another one of those rather restless, extremely disturbed night, because even when he could escape those extremely horrible nightmares about Cedric he would continue to have some very unsettling dreams about the fact that would be about a long dark corridor, with all of it finishing in dead ends and locked doors, which he supposed that it would have something to do with the trapped feeling that he has when he wakes up everyday. It was so often that the old scar that was on his forehead prilled uncomfortably, but he was not trying to fool himself over what Ron and Hermione or Eve his own godfather Sirius would have to find it very or even extremely interesting anymore. . . . In the past his scar hurting would have warned him that Voldemort was only getting stronger again, but now that Voldemort was indeed back they would probably remind him that it's regular irritation was only to be expected. . . . Nothing to worry about. . . Old news. . .

This kind of injustice most importantly had started to swell up deep inside of him so that he wanted to tell as loud as he can with all the furry he has. And as I'd it had not been for him nobody would have even known that Voldemort was very much indeed back! And it was his reward that he was stuck in Little Whinging for four solid weeks, and completely cut off from the rest of the magical world, all most reduced down to squaring among the dying begonias so that he could hear about that stupid water doing budgerigars. How could have Dumbledore forgotten him so easily? Why had Ron and Hermione gotten together without even inviting him along too? These furious thoughts started to whirl around in Harry's head, and his insides writhed with anger as the saltry, velvety and that as night cell around him, and the air was full of the smell of the warm, dry grass, and the only sound was of the low grumble of traffic on the road just beyond the park railings.

He did not know how long he would have always been on the swing before the sound of voices suddenly interrupted his musing and he looked up to find where the sound came from. The street lamps from the surrounding roads were suddenly casting a misty glow that was strong enough to make out the silhouette of a large ground of people making their way across the park. One of them was singing a very loud, crude song. The others were laughing. A very soft ticking noise came from several of the extensive racing bikes that they were wheeling along.

He knew who those nasty people were. They were the very figure in the front was an unmistakably his awful cousin, Dudley Cursory, vending on his way home, always accompanied by his faithful gang.

Dudley who was as vast as ever, but after a year's worth of hard dieting and the almost new discovery of a brand spanking new talent that had wrought him quite a change in his physique. As Uncle Vernon would have been delighted would have told anyone who would listen, that Dudley had only very recently become the Junior Heavyweight Inter School Boxing Champion of the Southeast. "The very noble sport of boxing," as Uncle Vernon bravely called it out, and had made Dudley even more horrific and formidable than what this new boxing champion thing really began to look like to Harry because when he was in his primary school days when he had been served as Dudley's very first human punching bag. Harry who was not even remotely afraid of his cousin anymore than he should but he still did not think that what Dudley really was learning is how to punch even harder and even more accurately and that was the cause for a celebration. After all the Neighborhood children coming from all around were even more terrified of of him and was even more terrified than they were of "that Potter boy," who they would have been warned about, and was a hardened hooligan who had attended St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.

Harry now carefully watched the dark figure that was crossing the grass and wondered whom they had been beating up tonight. Looking around, Harry found himself thinking as he watched them. Come on. . . . Take a look around. . . . I'm just sitting here all alone. . . Please come and have a go. . . .

If Dudley's friends ever saw him just sitting here, they would be sure to make a straight beeline towards him, and what would Bucket have to do then? He probably would not have wanted to lose face in front of his gang, but he would have been terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would have been really fun to watch Dudley's dilemma ; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond. . . . And as if any of the others would have tried hitting Harry. Harry would be ready as he has his wand. . . And would not let the try. . . He would love to vent some of his own extreme frustration on all those unsuspecting boys who had once made his life feel like the burning fires of hell.

But they did not even turn around, they did not even see him, they were almost to the railings. Harry had mustered the very impulse to call after them. . . . But he must not try to use magic. . . . He would have only been risking another expulsion again. . . .

Dudley's gangs many voices have now become silent; even though they were out of sight again, heading along Magnolia Road.

There you go, Sirius, Harry thought dully. NotHing extremely rash. Kept my nose very clean as you can see. Did exactly the opposite of what you would have done instead. . .

He quickly got on to his feet and started to stretch and loosen up. It seems like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had seemed to feel that whenever Dudley turned up it was the right time to get up and walk all the way back home, and anytime after that would have been much too late. Uncle Vernon as per usual would have threatened to lock Harry in the shed if he tried to come home even after Dudley has already made it home again, so stifling A great big yawn, still scowling, Harry had set off toward the locked park gate.

Magnolia Road, was like Privet Drive, and it was full of large, beautiful square houses with extremely beautiful and some of the most perfectly mowed lawns, all of it owned by large, square owners who drove very clean and expensive cars that were very similar to Uncle Vernon's. Harry however would very much preferred Little Whinging by night, when all the curtained windows made with rather beautiful patches of jewel bright colors that shine in the darkness and he ran into no danger of hearing the neighbors extremely disapproving mutters about his sudden "delinquent" appearance through their lovely big windows in which he ran passed the many householders. He walked quickly, so that half way along Magnolia Road and also so that Dudley's gang came right into view again; they were just saying their farewells at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent. Harry quickly stepped right into the shadows of a large Lilac tree and very patiently waited.

" . . . Ha, ha ,ha oh that kid he squealed like a pig, oh didn't he?" Melvin was saying, to the guffaws from the others.

"It was a very nice right hook over there, Big D," said Piers.

"Yeah. You could come around at the same time tomorrow?" Said Dudley.

"Hey you could come around to my parents' place, they are out on vacation of some sort." Said Borden.

"Yeah sure thing. See you all around soon I hope." Said Dudley.

"Yeah sure. Bye Dud. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah see you later, Big D!"

Harry now is patiently waiting for the rest of the gang to move onwards before setting off homeward again. With all of their voices now evidently fading away and only then did he once more started to head back around the corner and step right into Magnolia Present again and by walking in a very quick pace he was able to very soon come within hailing a few distances of his cousin Dudley, who was now strolling along side of him at his ease, humming tunelessly.

"Hey! How are ya, Big D!"

Dudley slowly turned around.

"Oh I see. A yes I see." He annoyingly grunted, "It's you my wizard cousin again."

"Hey! How long has it been since you have been called Big D then? Cause I would be so happy to know when. Hey did everyone call you Big D in school and I mean did they. This new name of yours is so extremely cool and awesome you know. And I didn't even know that you were called Big D." Said Harry cheerfully.

"Would you please shut your little mouth up. Do I look like the sort of person that would go around answering stupid questions about my super dooper awesome new name!" Snarled Dudley, who turned away again trying not to look at Harry and also to not get anyone's attention on himself.

"It's a very cool sounding name," said Harry, grinning and falling a couple steps behind his cousin. "But to me you will always be Nicole Diddykins at least that's what you are to me."

"Like I told you to ship the freaking hell up! Don't you think that I would very much like to hear such a name like that from you!" said a very angry Dudley whose big ham like hands had begun to curl up into fists.

"And don't you young boys know that's what your mother calls you?"

"Shut your Goddamn ugly DISGUSTING face up you freak."

"Uh, oh no you don't go around telling your mother to shut her face up don't you. What about Popkin and the good old Dinky Diddydums, so why can't I call you by those names then?"

Dudley stood and said nothing at all about what Harry had just said about him. He was trying with all his effort that he could possibly afford to try and keep himself from trying to hit Harry as it seems to be demanding all that he could do to keep himself under control.

"So who is it that you have been beating up tonight then?" Harry asked, with his grin fading. "Could it possibly be another ten year old and could please tell me about it? I would really like to know what Mark Evens did you to Mark Evens two nights ago."

"He was just asking for me to beat him up." Snarled Dudley.

"Oh yeah that right isn't it."

"Yeah he cheeked me."

"Okay yeah? Did he ever say to you that you look like a pig that's been taught how to walk on it hind legs? Cause that is not a cheek, Dud, is that true then. . ."

A muscle was beginning to twitch inside of Dudley's jaw. It would give Harry the much needed enormous satisfaction to really know how furious he was making Dudley; he had felt as though he was starting to siphon some of his own frustration right into his cousin, the only outlet he has ever had.

They were just turning right down into the narrow alleyway where Harry had first seen his godfather Sirius for the very first time and which had formed into a shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was nearly empty and much darker than the other streets as it was linked because the two garage walls on one side and on the other side a very high and very tall fence on the other side.

"Oh, thinking you are a big smart man to carry that thing around, don't you?" Dudley said after a few seconds.

"Carrying what thing?"

"What I mean to say is the thing that you are hiding."

Harry was grinning again.

"Hi. I am starting to think that you are not as this as you do look, aren't you, Dud? But I am going to suppose that if you think you are, then you wouldn't have been able to walk around and talk at the same time. . . .

Harry slowly and carefully pulled out his wand. He saw how Dudley very carefully looked sideways at it.

"You are not allowed," Dudley said at once nervously. "I would know you are not going to use that against me. You would be expelled from that freak school of yours that you got to go to."

"How would you know if they have not changed the rules yet, Big D?"

"They really haven't you see," said Dudley nervously, as though he didn't sound completely convinced. Harry laughed softly with an unpleasantly big grin on his face.

"Well you really don't have the guts to try and taking me on without that wand of yours don't you and besides that wand of yours is really stupid looking.

"Well let's see. Where as when you just need four rusted mates behind you so that before you could even beat up that ten year old right. You do know that boxing title you keep banging on about? Well how old was your opponent? Maybe Seven. Or even Eight year old?"

"Well actually he was a sixteen year old for your information," snarled Dudley, "And besides he was already out cold for about twenty minutes after I did eventually finished off with him just lying there out of breath and besides he was about uh twice the size and twice as heavy as you are lighter than me even. You could just sit there and wait until I have got the time to tell my father about the fact that you have got that thing of yours out."

"Oh okay yeah. Are you trying to run to your sweet Daddy now aren't you? So is this how his Nicole boxing champ is going to be frightened of nasty Harry's wand?"

"So you're not usually this brave at night , are you? Sneered Dudley.

"So I do believe that this will be that night that I get what I want out of you don't I. This is night, my sweet Directions. That's what we call it when the sky goes all dark and also when the stars come out."

"I really mean when you were in bed!" Sneered Dudley.

He had very shortly stopped walking. Harry also stopped walking too, and starring after his cousin from what very little he could see of Dudley's large face, and he was wearing a strangely triumphant look on his cute little face that popped out in the darkness.

"Okay I have had enough of this. Tell me Dudley what the hell do you mean to say that I Harry Potter is not as brave as you are in bed?" Said Harry with much anger coming out of him, and feeling completely unpleased about it. "What in the freaking hell am I supposed to do about it. And also you think that I'm tightened of pillows or something am I right."

"Oh I heard you talking in your sleep last night of course," said Dudley calmly. "Talking in your sleep and I also heard you moaning too."

"What the freaking hell do you mean Dudley Dursley?" Harry had to say it again angrily, but there was some sort of catch that had begun to feel cold, and a deep plunging sensation going up and into his stomach. He had just revisited that horrid graveyard that had dreamed of last night.

Dudley went in and gave a harsh bark of intense laughter and then adopted a high pitched whimpering voice. "Please don't kill Cedric! Don't you dare kill Cedric! Who in the freaking hell is Cedric anyways. Is he your boyfriend?"

"I know that you are totally lying, you big fat jerk." Said Harry angrily and automatically. But his mouth had gone dry as bone. How could he have known about this. He knew very well that Dudley was not really lying but somehow it feels as if it has happened before. But how else could he have known about Cedric Digger?

"Oh daddy! Could you help me dad please! Oh but he is going to kill me, dad. Boohoo!"

"Oh would you please shut the freaking hell up Dudley." Harry said quietly with embarrassment. "Oh would you please shut the hell up, Dudley I am warning for the last freaking time."

"Oh really Harry you would like me to shut up don't you well let's see how you would take to this. Oh dear come and help me please Dad! Mom, will you come and help me as well! He has killed Cedric! Daddy come on quickly and help me through this! He's going to kill me! Don't you dare point that thing at me!"

Dudley started slowly backing right into the alley wall. Harry who was pointing the tip of his wand directly over Dudley's heart. Harry could now feel the fourteen years of rage and hatred about Dudley come pounding upwards and in his very gains. What would be nor have done and as if now is not the right time that his going to strike and just to jinx Dudley so thoroughly so that he would have to really crawl his way home like a insect, stuck dumb, and sprouting feelers.

"Don't you freaking dare to talk about my mother and father like that again." Harry snarled, "Do you understand me or is it that I have to make you understand."

"Could you please point that thing somewhere else mind you!"

"I said do you understand me you little brat?"

"Could please point that freaking thing somewhere else you jerk!"

"Do you freaking understand me you giant spoiled brat?"

"Could you get that thing away from me you stupid jerk.!"

Dudley gave a very odd, shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water.

Something really bad was about to happen. Something had happened that night. The star filled indigo sky was all a sudden turned pitch black and it was lightless as if all the stars, even the most important thing the moon, and most of all those misty street lamps that should be at either end of the alley were suddenly gone and it became completely and utter darkness. The only sounds were the far distant grumble of cars and the extremely silent whisper of those beautiful trees were just all of a sudden gone. The calm evening was all of a sudden gone and became this piercing, fittingly cold and bitter sensation. They were now slowly surrounded by total, completely impenetrable, extremely silent darkness as though something that seems to be a cold hand that has now dropped on top of them in a thick, extremely icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding them out in the icy cold mist.

For a split second Harry was trying hard to think about that maybe if he had done some magic without meaning, but despite the very fact that he would have been resisting as hard as he could possibly do without losing control but just then his reason had suddenly and frightfully caught up with his senses because it is not as if he could have some special powers to just turn off the stars. He started to turn his head slowly this way and tried extremely hard to see something, but only the darkness pressed onto his eyes like a weightless veil.

Dudley's small and terrified voice broke through into Harry's ears.

"Help! Stop doing that would you? What the hell are you doing? Dudley could you just stop that already!"

"I am not going to do anything at all to you Dudley and for the mother of god could you stop that already! Shut up and don't you dare freaking do that. And also you might want to think about not moving at all."

"I need help! Somebody please help me! I can't seem to be able to see anything! I feel as if I have gone blind or something!"

"Well I Said Shut Up Dudley!"

Harry stood stock still for a second, only turning his sightless eyes left and right. The cold was almost so freaking intense that Harry stood there shivering all over; while many goosebumps started piping off on the back of his arms, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing all the way up and even when he tried to open his eyes to its fullest extent, he was still staring blankly around all the while no being able to see anything himself.

This was impossible and could have been possible. . . . No this couldn't possibly be what I think it could or might even be. . . . They should definitely not be in the Muggle Town of Little Whinging. . . . He stood there trying hard to find where this thing is by straining his ears as hard as he possibly can. . . . He would have heard them before he could have seen them. . . .

"I'll tell Dad!" Dudley whimpered. "Where are you even? What are you trying to do?"

"Will you please for the mother of god shut your mouth up?" Harry hissed. "I'm trying to listen for something. And I am trying to save your life."

But he fell silent. He has just heard the thing that he had been dreading this whole time.

There was something hiding and lurking in the alleyway but this creature was far apart from Harry and his cousin Dudley, and it was something that was drawing a long, hoaros, and bone rattling breath. Harry had felt a horrible feeling of dread coming up from his body as he stood there trembling in the freezing air.

"Harry could you cut it out! Stop doing that. I'll hit you, I swear I will!"

"Dudley could you just shut up I'm trying hard to help you over here so please don't hit me!"

Wham!

Dudley's fist has made contact with the side of Harry's head and lifted Harry off of his feet. While small bright white lights had suddenly popped up in front of Harry's eyes and for the second time within an hour he had felt as though his head had been sliced into two parts; then the very next moment he had landed on the hard solid ground, and his wand had flown out of his hand.

"You stupid moron Dudley!" Harry yelled furiously, with his eyes watering with the pain that he was feeling in his eyes, as he scrambled to his hands and knees, while also feeling around frantically in the darkness trying to find his wand. Off in a distance he heard Dudley blundering away, hitting the alley fence and stumbling.

"Dudley, please come back! You are running yourself right into the Dementor!"

From the distance came a horrible swelling yell, and Dudley's footsteps had suddenly stopped. At the same moment, Harry could feel a creeping chill coming up from behind him that could only mean something for sure. There were more than one of those creatures.

"Dudley please listen to my voice, whatever you do please remember to keep your mouth shut! And I do mean that whatever you do keep your mouth shut! Wand where are you I need you?" Harry muttered frantically, his hands flying over the ground like spiders. "Where is my wand? Come on Lumos!"

Harry said that spell automatically, with a desperate need for some light to help him in his search and to his disbelieving relief, a bright light flared up inches from his right hand and the wand tip had ignited. Harry snatched it up and scrambled onto his feet, and turned around.

His stomach turned over.

A tall towering and creepy looking hooded figure was gliding smoothly over towards Harry, hovering over the ground, with no feet or even a face that was visible beneath it's robes, suking on the night air round the creature as it came close to Harry.

Stumbling backward, Harry raised his wand.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A thin silvery wisp of paper shot out from the tip of Harry's wand and the dementia had slowed down, but the spell did not work the way it was supposed to work; tripping over his feet. Harry quickly retreated farther back as the dementia bore down upon him, and panic was fogging up his brain. Concentrate.

A gray yet slimy, scabbed hand slide from the inside of the dementor's robes, reaching out for him, as a rushing noise filled Harry's ears.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

His voice sounded dim and distant from what it's supposed to sound like. . . . Another thin wisp of sliver smoke, this time even more feeble than the last one, as it slowly drifted from the tip of the wand and could not possibly have the courage to do another one, or maybe it's that he just can't get the spell to work for him.

There was a laughter that was inside of his head, and it was a high, shrill, and high pitched laughter that seems to be draining home of happiness. . . . He could smell the dementias putrid, death cold breath, that now fills his own lungs, and it was drowning him out. Come on, try to think of something happy. . . .

But rather than something happy there was barely enough happiness left inside of him to be able to use that spell any more. . . . The dementias icy cold fingers were slowly closing in on his throat and the high pitched laughter was growing ever louder and louder, and there was a voice that spoke inside of his head. "Come on Harry Potter, bow down to death now. . . . It might even be a painless death. . . . I would not know. . . . Cause I have never ever died. . . ."

He was really never going to be able to see Ron and Hermione ever again.

And then their faces appeared clearly in his head as fought long and hard for a clean breath.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

An enormous sliver stag came erupting out from the very top of Harry's wand; with its sharp antlers it caught one of the dementia right in the place where it's heart should have been; thrown hard backward, weightless in the darkness, and as the stag charged at the demented bit it swooped away, bat like and defeated.

"Come on this way!" Harry shouted at the stag. Wheeling quickly around he sprinted down the alleyway, holding the lit wand aloft. "Dudley! Dudley! Come On Where Are You Dudley?"

He had barely been able to run a dozen steps, when he finally reached Dudley; as for the fact that Dudley had curled up on the ground, with his arms clamped over his face; for the second dementia was crouching low over him, gripping his wrist in is skinny yet disgusting hands, as if it was prizing them slowly, almost lovingly apart, while it was slowly lowering it hooded head towards Dudley's face as though it was about to kiss him. . . .

"Get It Now!" Harry Bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag had conjured from his wand came galloping back past him. The Dementias eyeless face was just barely and inch away from Dudley's face when the sliver antlers finally caught the second dementia; the demented was thrown up into the air, and just like it's fellow, it quietly soared away and was absorbed into the darkness never to be seen again. The stag however ran to the end of the alleyway and then disappeared into silver mist.

The beautiful moon, the sparkling stars, and even the dim misty street lamps came back to life. And a rental war breeze swept through the alleyway. The trees rustled softly in the neighboring gardens and the mundane rumble of the cars in Magnolia Present fill the air again. Harry stood quiet still, with all his senses still vibrating, and taking in the wonderful return to normality. After a moment he had became quite aware that his t-shirt was sticking to him; he was totally drenched in sweat.

He could not really believe what had just happened. There were Dementors here, in the quiet town of Little Whinging. . .

Dudley lay there curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down gently to see whether or not he was in a fit state of mind to stand up, but then Harry heard the sound of someone running from behind him; instinctively raising his wand again he spun on to his feet to face the newcomer.

Mrs. Diff, their batty old neighbor had come panting into sight. Her grizzled gray hair escaping from her waist, and her feet were half way out of her tartan carpet slippers. Harry quickly tried to stow away his wand so that it was out of sight.

"Don't put away your wand you idiot boy!" She shrieked. "What if there had been more of those dementors around here somewhere? Oh I am so going to kill that stupid Mundungus Fletcher."