Harry
Potter and Gryffindor's Secret
Chapter
4: A Joke and Then Goodbye
By:
Lin-z
Author's Note: Many gracious thank you's go to my lovely reviewers! I
never imagined that people would actually read my stories, let alone like them!
(If you like what you read, leave a review! They really make my day, as I'm
certain that any of you authors know…) This chapter contains quite a bit more
action than the previous. Hopefully it's more fun to read, but I'll let you
decide! If you like it, please don't forget to review! Anyhow, I suppose I must
get on with the story… very well. Here goes!
Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters. Rest assured
that I am not making a pence, cent, drachma, lira, or centime off of this
story. I own a candy bar and a pillow. It would be pointless to sue me. Thanks!
The doorbell rang through number four Privet
Drive, barely noticed over the loud bangs and bleeps of Dudley's new computer
game. It rang again, and this time it was heard by Mr Vernon Dursley.
'Dudley! Answer the door!' He shouted, not
bothering to look up from the paper he had spread across his lap, half-reading,
half-sleeping. He had Friday afternoons off, and the last thing he wanted was
to have his splendid afternoon interrupted by some pimply-faced bloke trying to
sell him "New and Improved!" this or that.
'Aw Dad, cantcha make Harry get it?' Dudley
pleaded, not wanting to miss one alien-blasting second of his game.
'All right then. Harry! Answer the door!'
There was no answer.
He yelled again.
Still nothing.
Vernon heaved himself from his easy chair,
cursing his lazy nephew all the way to the door.
'That ruddy boy is going to pay for this,' he
growled, coming up on the door. 'I'd say a week back in his cupboard would
teach him. Ignoring me… by George he's going to get it for this…' He yanked the
door open and was about to yell a hardy 'GO AWAY!' at whomever was standing
there, but he was shocked into a momentary silence as he recognised his
black-haired, spectacled nephew on his doorstep.
'What do you think you're playing at now,
boy?' he shouted at Harry, 'Get your weak arse back in here and get to work!
I'll not have you skiving off, not in my house!' He fully expected Harry to
apologise and get to work. He was most definitely not expecting the response
Harry gave instead.
'What if I don't want to?' Harry yelled back!
Never, in all the (just about) fourteen years that Harry had lived with them,
had he ever yelled back at a direct order from Uncle Vernon.
Harry tried mightily to keep from breaking
into explosive peals of laughter right on the spot as he watched his uncle's
normally ruddy complexion grow dark purple and splotchy with rage. Harry would
have been deeply afraid of his uncle's wrath, had he not known that his
godfather was in the bushes, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out and
rescue him.
'You'll do as you're told, boy,' Uncle Vernon
spat, in sharp, staccato tones, 'or I will personally beat you to within a
centimetre of your good-for-nothing life! Now you will get inside, and GET TO
WORK!' Uncle Vernon scowled at Harry, both surprised and deeply angered by his
nephew's sudden rebellious attitude.
'I don't reckon that would be such a great
idea,' came a deep, somewhat hoarse voice from around the corner of the
doorway.
Vernon's eyes widened as a man stepped out
from around the porch. The man was tall; he had to be over six feet, with
shaggy black hair and pale blue eyes. He wore black leather trousers and a
tight black shirt that clearly showed every one of the bulging muscles beneath.
The man walked up the steps, punching his hand with a fist in a very
threatening manner.
'You see,' he said, 'I like my godson to be
happy. When he's not happy, I'm not happy, and when I'm not happy… Well, I
don't think you want to know what I do to people who don't make me happy.' The
man sneered menacingly at Vernon Dursley, as if daring the fat older man to try
anything smart.
Vernon was suddenly pale, the dark red
splotches in his face fading to his normal red hues, and then to a slightly
pink colour. He noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. He shoved them in
the pockets of his trousers, not wanting the man on his doorstep to notice this.
So this must be Harry's godfather. Vernon had
thought Harry had made him up. An imaginary protector, someone he could
threaten the Dursley's with if he so chose. All this time his dratted nephew
had actually been telling the truth! He had heard about this man's dastardly
deeds: fourteen people, dead in one go, in the middle of the day. Now that he
had seen the man, he wouldn't put it past him, either. The man standing before
him definitely looked like the type who wouldn't think twice about ending the life
of a fellow human being.
'R-r-right, sir.' Vernon mumbled, stepping
aside to let Harry and the man pass. He had every intention of pegging it to
the phone as soon as the man's voice was turned. It may have been a year and a
half since the last time he had seen the hot-line number on the telly, but he
remembered it as clearly as if he had just had the numbers burned to the inside
of his eyelids.
The man sneered at him. 'Don't even think of
calling the muggle police. I'll know if you do, and suffice it to say, the
results will most definitely not be pretty. For you.'
Vernon had no idea what "muggle"
meant, but he knew this man was serious. He didn't want to test his luck to see
if the man was bluffing- maybe he wouldn't harm Petunia or Dudley as long as he
got what he wanted.
'What is it you want, anyway?' Vernon asked,
sounding quite a bit braver than he felt. Harry was sure his uncle would wet
himself soon.
'I want you to promise me that you won't call
the police, and that you will leave Harry and me alone whilst we complete our
business here.' Sirius said, somehow managing to stifle the laughter building
up within.
'Oh, right, of course, sir,' Vernon was
shaking visibly now. 'Just please don't harm my wife or son,' he pleaded.
Sirius smiled- as if he would want anything
with Lily's horse-like sister or her piggy nephew!
'Good then,' he grumbled, 'now leave us be.'
Vernon Dursley obligingly turned and
half-ran, half-wobbled to the kitchen, where his wife and son were trying to
hide beneath the table.
As soon as the Dursley's were out of earshot,
Harry and Sirius exploded, no longer able to contain the mad peals of laughter
at seeing Uncle Vernon shaking like a coward at the mere sight of Harry's
harmless godfather. Harry was on the floor, clutching his stomach as tears of
laughter squeezed from his eyes. Sirius was leaning against the doorway for
support, also clutching his stomach as he laughed uncontrollably.
'Did you see the look on that old goat's
face?! That was priceless!' Sirius exclaimed in a low voice, so as not to be
heard by the family hiding in the kitchen.
'Yeah, priceless!' Harry repeated, sitting up
and wiping the happy tears from the corners of his eyes.
'Right, well, we should probably get your
things and be going. Your room is upstairs then?' Sirius said, calming down.
'Yeah, let's go,' Harry said, getting up from
the floor and heading for the stairs. Sirius followed him up.
'Never, in all my life have I seen Uncle
Vernon so scared! That was great, Sirius, just great!' Harry said, still amused
at the sight of his uncle, pale and trembling.
'Eh, thanks, kid, it's nice to know I've
still got some of my old charm.' Sirius did indeed look pleased at the results
of their little game.
He sat upon Harry's bed and watched as his
godson began to gather his things, stacking everything neatly in its place
within the trunk at the foot of his bed. James had been the type to throw
everything in at once, always needing someone to sit on the top of his trunk as
he fastened it. He must have inherited his tidiness from his mother, either
that, or years of doing chores for his uncle's family. Harry pulled up the
loose floorboard and pulled his homework supplies from their hiding place,
stacking those in their place.
'Here, want some of these?' he asked, handing
Sirius a box of scones he had pulled from the spot under the loose floorboard.
'Mrs Weasley sent them over a couple of weeks ago, when I found that Dudley was
still on his diet.' Sirius took one, and Harry put the box in his trunk.
"Mm," he thought, "it's been much too long since I've had
these!"
Harry slammed the lid of his trunk down,
successfully showing Sirius that he was done packing.
'All through!' he said, locking Hedwig's cage
and placing it on his bed.
He stared at his trunk, a frown creasing his
brow and distorting the scar on his forehead. 'How ever are we going to get
this back to your house?' he asked, trying to think of a way to get a
fifty-pound trunk on a flying motorbike.
Sirius smiled knowingly. 'You may not be able
to do magic over the summer, my little man, but I can. Watch this:' he said,
waving his wand and muttering the words to a simple shrinking charm.
'Hey, don't call me little!' Harry sounded
offended, but he was smiling despite himself.
Sirius picked up his trunk, now the size of a
walnut, and threw it to Harry. Harry caught it deftly and put it in his pocket.
'Right-o, mate,' he said, nodding to Sirius.
'I think that's everything!' The two of them got up, Harry grabbing Hedwig's
cage, and made their way to the front door. Harry stopped at the door to yell a
customary good bye to his family, which, of course, remained unanswered.
Sirius climbed on his motorbike, sitting
forward and allowing Harry enough space to sit on the back, with Hedwig's cage
situated on his lap. As soon as all three were secure, Sirius pushed engine
silencer and lifted off, releasing the invisibility button when they were above
the clouds. Harry watched as the Dursley's home was shrunken by distance and
smiled happily, knowing that he would never be forced to spend another summer
in that dratted hellhole.
As Harry soared through the air, he had no
idea that he was being watched. In a large and stately room with exquisite
green and silver hangings, a tall and slender man stood over an ornately carved
gilded cauldron, staring into its shimmering waters. The man watched with
serpentine scarlet eyes as a man and a boy flew happily through the air,
apparently without a care in the world. He had plans for the boy, though. Plans
that involved the boy being tortured beyond even his wildest nightmares,
powerless to stop it or even to fight back before he was killed. The boy was
insolent, and for that, he would not be afforded the luxury of a quick and
painless death. The boy would suffer terribly for the thirteen years that he
had been forced to survive without a body of his own. Yes, the boy would get
his just rewards.
Dumbledore, no doubt, thought he was being
smart. Sending Severus Snape to capture Peter Pettigrew had hardly been a
setback for the great Lord Voldemort. Pettigrew was a blithering idiot, and
Voldemort was honestly somewhat relieved to have him off of his hands. He had
served his purpose when he gave of his flesh, and the Dark Lord now had more
than enough capable, brave, and ready wizards at his service to make the lowly
Pettigrew worth saving. He would find the recipe for that potion without
Pettigrew, and remove that detested boy of his undiscovered power before he
discovered it and grew too strong for Voldemort to destroy.
Now that Harry Potter was entering his fifth
year at Howarts, Voldemort knew that he must act soon. He had to destroy Potter
before he knew of the powers that lay dormant within himself, before he
realised that he had the power to destroy the Dark Lord once and for all.
Voldemort sat back on his lavishly gilded
throne, imagining the various, horrible means he would use to torture the
detested Potter before killing him. He smiled faintly, lost in his evil
thoughts. 'At last, Harry Potter will be mine….'
So… did you like it? Let me know! *here's
a hint- if you like this story, I post really fast when I get reviews!*
~Lin-z~
