Chapter 2
A Taxi Ride
Harry awoke. He was in his bed at the Dursley's house, as he knew he would be. So why then did he feel so odd? Then it came back to him.the dream. He'd been having this dream for the past week. It was always the same. He could see a boy. He was tall, with very dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.but he was tied up.tied to a tall silver chair, in a dark room. Harry felt peculiar.there was something strangely familiar about this boy. He reminded him of someone, but he couldn't quite work out who. You couldn't usually remember dreams that clearly, but he could remember every detail of this one. Right down to the smell of sea salt in the room. He had stood in that room for what seemed all night, but hadn't spoken. The boy had watched Harry never smiling, and never talking, just watching Harry expressionlessly. Harry turned over and glared at his alarm clock. Then he sat bolt upright. It was his last day at the Dursleys. Tomorrow he was going to the Weasley's house and together with Ron they would visit Diagon Alley and get their new schoolbooks. The list of new things that he needed had arrived yesterday by a rather small and plump owl. He quickly got dressed; the Dursleys didn't bother to heat his room. A waste of money his Uncle said. He put on his normal muggle clothes, a pair of jeans that were way too big. They had like most of Harry's clothes once belonged to his enormous cousin. His T-shirt looked like a girl's nightdress, but he hid it under a woolly green jumper that had a picture of an Hungarian Horntail on it. This was from Mrs Weasley, his best friend's mother, who sent him one every year. It was the only thing that his aunt and uncle permitted him to wear that was vaguely connected to Harry's usual occupation as a trainee wizard at Hogwart's school of magic. Most people would have scoffed at this hand knitted jumper, but to Harry it was precious. He rarely got proper birthday presents. A typical present from the Dursleys consisted of a second pair of socks or a coat hanger, if they remembered at all. His usual black robes and hat were locked in his wardrobe. At least, thought Harry gratefully they didn't lock up his books this time. What with Sirius, his godfather who everyone but Harry, Dumbledore, Hermione and Ron thought was a serial murderer and the fact that Harry could now stand up for himself, even if he wasn't allowed to do magic out of school, he could now get more or less what he needed. Although life was still far from fun with the Dursleys, they left Harry well alone, as they thought him a bad influence on their spoilt son Dudley. This summer they had made him stay in his bedroom, and wouldn't even let him join them for meals. Aunt Petunia left a very small portion of curried chicken, or what ever they were having outside Harry's door. She rarely told him that it was there, so more often than not it was stone cold when Harry got to eat it. The portions were tiny and sometimes the plate was empty because Dudley had felt that his portion was not sufficient so had finished off Harry's as well. The Dursleys hadn't forgiven Harry for the destruction of their living room last summer, or blowing up his aunt's sister the summer before that. More than once, Harry's roast chicken had been laced with vinegar or his pizza was swimming in water. Harry was sure that Dudley was behind it, but when he'd ventured downstairs one day to complain to Uncle Vernon, Uncle Vernon had got Dudley to chase Harry back into his room swinging his Smeltings stick. Harry decided that he would finish his essay on the predictions for the next millennium by examining the stars in the Milky Way. He needed to write another 10 inches of parchment. He studied his books, Unfogging the Future Edition 2 and Exploring the Galaxy: A Students Guide to Interpreting the Stars. They seemed to say that there would be a dark three-legged monster that would attack some purple spotted toad next Wednesday. Harry didn't think this sounded too likely, so he decided to leave it until he met up with Ron and Hermione tomorrow. Even if they didn't know the answer he and Ron were sure that they would have fun making it up, even if Hermione disapproved. Harry decided that it was time for breakfast, however breakfast with the Dursleys was never fun. Occasionally a half-eaten piece of cold bacon was left outside the door, but usually a stale piece of bread was his breakfast, as far as the Dursleys were concerned. However Harry did not starve. He sneaked downstairs, while the rest of the household was sleeping and took three pieces of bread and made himself a quick jam sandwich carefully gathering all the crumbs off the sideboard. He knew he would not see the Dursleys for the rest of the day. For dinner and tea he had enough stocked up in his room that his friends had sent him by owl, knowing that the Dursley's usually starved him. Every other day Mrs Weasley sent a large basket of freshly baked bread, biscuits and cakes. Harry was glad that the Dursleys and Dudley in particular knew nothing of this arrangement, or he knew it would be confiscated and given to Dudley, who even with his recent diet was now the size of an adolescent hippopotamus, with a mouth to match. Harry crept back upstairs, carefully avoiding the creaky bottom stair. In his room he crossed off the final square on the table he'd made which was hung on the wardrobe. This was the last day with the Dursleys until the next summer holidays. He had butterflies in his stomach with excitement. Just then Errol, the Weasley's owl flew through the window. He was carrying a bulky letter. Harry tore it off Errol's leg and Errol flopped exhausted onto Harry's bed. The letter said,
Hi Harry,
How's it going. We can't wait to meet up with you again. Are you sure you can still get here safely? Dad can't wait to hear about you riding in a Taxi. He thinks it some kind of broom. Mum's going up the wall at the moment we've just had some men fixing us an anti-muggle device and they've had to come back twice to fix it because it wasn't working properly. None of us could get in the house, we had to camp in the garden for a night! Have you heard from Sirius recently? Oh and can you please send Hedwig back with the reply. Errol seems to be even weaker than usual, and Pig has a sprained wing- he flew into the window. See you soon Ron
Harry had decided that it would be safer for all concerned if he got a taxi to Ottery St Catchpole where Ron lived. His grate wasn't hooked up to the Flu Network, and after last year's accident, where Dudley had eaten ton tongue toffee and the Dursley's front room wall had been smashed to pieces there was no way that Harry was going to risk it again. He would take a taxi to Ron's village and then walk up to the Weasley's wonderful house called The Burrow. He thought of Ron's brothers, and the fun they'd had together over the last few years. He was looking forward to seeing Mrs Weasley again, particularly her brilliant cooking. He spent the rest of the day finishing his holiday homework, which was to research into the Great Wizard Duel of 308 and completing another five inches of his divination essay. Then ignoring Dudley's taunts from outside his door, he rolled over and reread Flying with Cannons, a book about Ron's favourite Quidditch team.
That night Harry dreamed again. This time as soon as he shut his eyes the boy was sitting there waiting for him. Harry seemed to be trapped in there with him. His eyes explored the room. It was a black, dark cellar, with slimy brick walls, and an old fashioned door. He could smell the sea salt clearly. The boy was dressed in muggle clothes, which struck Harry as odd, he was sure that the boy should be a wizard. Then he saw the doorknob turning, and the scar on his forehead exploded with pain. Harry woke up sweating in his bed, moaning with pain. He knew this was not a good sign. In the past the pain had been connected with activities of his worst enemy- Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort was a wizard, but on the dark side. He and Harry had first met when Harry was one, when he had killed both Harry's parents. Somehow he, a baby, not even able to talk, had survived, and Voldemort had fled, weakened to a fraction of his power. Harry had been sent to live with his aunt and uncle, muggles, who hated anything to do with magic. Harry had grown up, not even knowing that he was a wizard, until his eleventh birthday when he had received a letter from Hogwarts. He was now returning as a fifth year, and was looking forward to it very much even if he had to take his OWLs this year. Ordinary Wizarding Levels were qualifications that wizards took instead of muggle GCSEs. Harry lay on his bed feeling tired out as if had had no sleep. It was too early for him to get up, but he knew that any more sleep that night would be impossible. Outside in Privet Drive, the streetlights were illuminating his bedroom with a spooky orange glow. He went to the window and looked out. Outside in the monochrome environment everything was quiet. The drive looked as it always did, nothing unusual here, thank you very much. Except there was something a bit unusual. There was something lurking in the hedge opposite the Dursley's house. Harry couldn't quite work out what it was. It appeared to be small, but it was too big to be a cat. Harry was just about to look at it again when it disappeared. Perhaps I'm still dreaming thought Harry. Instead of the futile attempts to get to sleep he decided to pack everything up. He slipped downstairs to the living room where he knew the key was kept to wardrobe and opened it. His black robes were hung up neatly and Harry felt a thrill of excitement as he thought about wearing them again. Then he carefully put his wizarding clothes in the trunk along with his books. He also slipped in the invisibility cloak, the only thing his parents had left him, apart from a large pile of money stored in the wizard bank Gringotts. He carefully took the most precious book he owned off his bookshelf and sat on his bed staring at the deep red front cover. The words Photo Album, were glowing a faint golden colour. He opened it gently. Inside were pictures of his parents. It had been a present from Hagrid the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Inside his parents smiled out at him and in some pictures waved. Wizard photos are not like muggle photos, because the people move. One picture took up the whole page. His mother and father were kissing on a sandy beach, as the waves lapped up to their bare feet, and the wind blew out his mother's hair behind her. Tall palms swayed gracefully behind them. They withdrew from the kiss, and smiled at Harry. He could almost smell the sea. At once Harry felt a deep pang of sadness and closed the book quickly, his heart aching. He placed it carefully in the trunk with the other books. He put his quills, and the collection of Chocolate Frog Cards he had collected. At the front a tall wizard with a long grey beard was studying a book. Harry smiled. He was looking forward to seeing Professor Dumbledore again. Harry then checked his room, and beneath the floorboards for anything he might have forgotten, and then taking his wand from its hallowed position on his desk he slipped it into his pocket. Then he crept downstairs and phoned the taxi company, and asked them to pick him up as soon as possible. He was going to go as soon as they could. He knew the Dursleys wouldn't mind. The disembodied voice on the phone told him that they would arrive within ten minutes. Harry quickly scrawled a note to the Dursleys and left it on the dining room table. He then pulled his trunk downstairs, returned the key to its drawer and returned for Hedwig's cage. Eventually the taxi turned up, and the driver did a double take seeing a large snowy white owl in a cage, "Isn't that against RSPCA regulations?" he asked suspiciously. Harry got into the taxi, and then spent the next twenty minutes making up a story about how they had found this owl with an injured leg while out in the country, and had nursed it back to health (after getting the RSPCA's advice of course!). On hearing this Hedwig started hopping round the cage a bit and looking pained. This together with Harry's story must have been convincing because the driver looked suitably impressed. Harry settled back with relief. They spent most of the rest of the journey in silence, with Harry watching the countryside pass his window.
By the time the taxi reached Ottery St Catchpole it was after midday, and Harry was ravenous. "Where do you want dropping?" the driver suddenly asked. Harry rapidly thought. He knew that the Weasleys lived in Ottery St Catchpole, but he only knew roughly where their house was, he suddenly began to feel worried. "Oh just in the centre," Harry replied. Last time he had found the Weasleys' house he had been very tired after the Quidditch World Cup. He'd just followed Mr Weasley, not really noticing where they were going. Harry remembered the note about the new anti-muggle security device that they'd had installed which meant that muggles couldn't find the Weasley house. How was he going to find it, if muggles couldn't see it? A short while later they arrived in the centre of Ottery St Catchpole. It consisted of an ancient church and a peeling post office, and a few scattered houses. This'll be fine," said Harry nervously. The driver raised his eyebrows. "You know where you're going don't ya?" "Yes, my friend will be meeting me here" "You sure?" "Yes, Yes we're just a bit early that's all, I'll wait," "I think I better stay until some one comes," persisted the driver. Harry could just imagine his face if the Weasleys in their patched multi-coloured cloaks and robes turned up. "Look, I'll be fine," Harry said rather more crossly than he meant. The driver glared at him and then quickly unloaded the trunk and cage, and drove off, muttering about impudent children. Harry pulled his trunk up the road. A car screeched past him, honking its horn. Harry turned to see three children in the back seat staring with their mouths open at Hedwig and his old fashioned trunk. He found the turning to the Weasleys' house. Panting and puffing, he dragged the trunk up the dirt track. He was sure the house was just round the next bend. With one last pant of effort, he collapsed in front of the Weasleys' house, or rather where the Weasleys' house should be. it wasn't there. There was just a gate, behind which was a field of rippling golden wheat. Harry looked around desperately, what was he supposed to do, had the Weasleys moved without telling him? He got his wand out and tapped the gate, but nothing seemed to happen. He threw open his trunk and took out two packets of chocolate frogs. He ate one and stuffed the other in his pocket. He then let Hedwig out and she flew softly overhead as he ran back down to the village of Ottery St Catchpole and looked again at the scattered buildings. None of them looked remotely like the Weasley's house. He suddenly had a horrible thought. What if the new anti-muggle device made the Weasley's house look like a normal house, like Hogwarts looked like a ruined castle, he would never be able to find it. Or perhaps it just made the house invisible and you could only get there by tapping the third brick on your left like Diagon Alley. Harry then plucked up courage. He'd have to do something, he couldn't just sleep outside. He walked towards the nearest muggle house and tapped lightly on the door. A harassed young woman came to it, a bawling baby in her arms, "Excuse me do you know where the Weasleys live?" he asked politely. "Weasels, Don't know any weasels." The baby bawled louder, Harry had to raise his voice to be heard, "Weasleys. They have six sons, and a daughter" "Maybe, I don't now everyone 'ere" "They may seem a little strange to you," Harry said in desperation. "Oi, you're bein' rude" and the woman closed the door firmly in his face. Harry walked miserably back down the concrete path, kicking a loose stone, and wondering what he was going to do. However he was still hungry, and retrieved a packet of chocolate frogs from his pocket. They'd melted slightly, but Harry was past caring. Panic was starting to build. He sat on the village green, wondering if his trunk was alright under the hedge. He ate the frogs enjoying their sweetness, and wondering what to do next. Hedwig landed close to Harry, and seemed to be agitated. She was flapping up and down and giving little hoots. Harry stared at her. She was usually so well behaved, why was she disturbing him as he was trying to think. Then he realised. He dived into his bag, and pulled out a scroll and parchment, and wrote,
Ron Help, I'm in Ottery St Catchpole, sitting where your house should be, and I don't know how to get to your house, Please hurry, Harry
Then he tied the note to Hedwig's leg, and sat back down on the damp grass. Across the green he noticed the curtains twitching, and the silhouette of a person watching him. Well he'd given them something to gossip about anyway thought Harry bitterly. He walked slowly back to his trunk, and found some stale pastries, and chewed on them slowly. It was only five minutes later that Hedwig returned. Harry grabbed her leg and tore the reply off.
Harry, I'm sorry I forgot to tell you what to do, walk up the road a little and you'll see a bench. Sit on it, and whisper "Revelum husian Weasley" and the house should appear opposite you, See you soon Ron
Harry grabbed hold of his trunk and yanked it along the road with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, and Hedwig circling high above him, hooting happily. The trunk was very awkward to drag along further up the bumpy country road and then up a dirt track. He was very relieved when he eventually saw the green bench in front of him. It was an odd looking bench, especially as it seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. It was made of iron and the seat was made of just one large bent maple leaf. Harry with a last struggle dragged the trunk up to the bench and flopped onto it, breathless. Eventually he had gained enough strength to put it on the bench with him and Hedwig joined him gently pinching his ear. Harry stroked her snowy white back and closed his eyes before whispering "Revelum husian Weasley".
A Taxi Ride
Harry awoke. He was in his bed at the Dursley's house, as he knew he would be. So why then did he feel so odd? Then it came back to him.the dream. He'd been having this dream for the past week. It was always the same. He could see a boy. He was tall, with very dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.but he was tied up.tied to a tall silver chair, in a dark room. Harry felt peculiar.there was something strangely familiar about this boy. He reminded him of someone, but he couldn't quite work out who. You couldn't usually remember dreams that clearly, but he could remember every detail of this one. Right down to the smell of sea salt in the room. He had stood in that room for what seemed all night, but hadn't spoken. The boy had watched Harry never smiling, and never talking, just watching Harry expressionlessly. Harry turned over and glared at his alarm clock. Then he sat bolt upright. It was his last day at the Dursleys. Tomorrow he was going to the Weasley's house and together with Ron they would visit Diagon Alley and get their new schoolbooks. The list of new things that he needed had arrived yesterday by a rather small and plump owl. He quickly got dressed; the Dursleys didn't bother to heat his room. A waste of money his Uncle said. He put on his normal muggle clothes, a pair of jeans that were way too big. They had like most of Harry's clothes once belonged to his enormous cousin. His T-shirt looked like a girl's nightdress, but he hid it under a woolly green jumper that had a picture of an Hungarian Horntail on it. This was from Mrs Weasley, his best friend's mother, who sent him one every year. It was the only thing that his aunt and uncle permitted him to wear that was vaguely connected to Harry's usual occupation as a trainee wizard at Hogwart's school of magic. Most people would have scoffed at this hand knitted jumper, but to Harry it was precious. He rarely got proper birthday presents. A typical present from the Dursleys consisted of a second pair of socks or a coat hanger, if they remembered at all. His usual black robes and hat were locked in his wardrobe. At least, thought Harry gratefully they didn't lock up his books this time. What with Sirius, his godfather who everyone but Harry, Dumbledore, Hermione and Ron thought was a serial murderer and the fact that Harry could now stand up for himself, even if he wasn't allowed to do magic out of school, he could now get more or less what he needed. Although life was still far from fun with the Dursleys, they left Harry well alone, as they thought him a bad influence on their spoilt son Dudley. This summer they had made him stay in his bedroom, and wouldn't even let him join them for meals. Aunt Petunia left a very small portion of curried chicken, or what ever they were having outside Harry's door. She rarely told him that it was there, so more often than not it was stone cold when Harry got to eat it. The portions were tiny and sometimes the plate was empty because Dudley had felt that his portion was not sufficient so had finished off Harry's as well. The Dursleys hadn't forgiven Harry for the destruction of their living room last summer, or blowing up his aunt's sister the summer before that. More than once, Harry's roast chicken had been laced with vinegar or his pizza was swimming in water. Harry was sure that Dudley was behind it, but when he'd ventured downstairs one day to complain to Uncle Vernon, Uncle Vernon had got Dudley to chase Harry back into his room swinging his Smeltings stick. Harry decided that he would finish his essay on the predictions for the next millennium by examining the stars in the Milky Way. He needed to write another 10 inches of parchment. He studied his books, Unfogging the Future Edition 2 and Exploring the Galaxy: A Students Guide to Interpreting the Stars. They seemed to say that there would be a dark three-legged monster that would attack some purple spotted toad next Wednesday. Harry didn't think this sounded too likely, so he decided to leave it until he met up with Ron and Hermione tomorrow. Even if they didn't know the answer he and Ron were sure that they would have fun making it up, even if Hermione disapproved. Harry decided that it was time for breakfast, however breakfast with the Dursleys was never fun. Occasionally a half-eaten piece of cold bacon was left outside the door, but usually a stale piece of bread was his breakfast, as far as the Dursleys were concerned. However Harry did not starve. He sneaked downstairs, while the rest of the household was sleeping and took three pieces of bread and made himself a quick jam sandwich carefully gathering all the crumbs off the sideboard. He knew he would not see the Dursleys for the rest of the day. For dinner and tea he had enough stocked up in his room that his friends had sent him by owl, knowing that the Dursley's usually starved him. Every other day Mrs Weasley sent a large basket of freshly baked bread, biscuits and cakes. Harry was glad that the Dursleys and Dudley in particular knew nothing of this arrangement, or he knew it would be confiscated and given to Dudley, who even with his recent diet was now the size of an adolescent hippopotamus, with a mouth to match. Harry crept back upstairs, carefully avoiding the creaky bottom stair. In his room he crossed off the final square on the table he'd made which was hung on the wardrobe. This was the last day with the Dursleys until the next summer holidays. He had butterflies in his stomach with excitement. Just then Errol, the Weasley's owl flew through the window. He was carrying a bulky letter. Harry tore it off Errol's leg and Errol flopped exhausted onto Harry's bed. The letter said,
Hi Harry,
How's it going. We can't wait to meet up with you again. Are you sure you can still get here safely? Dad can't wait to hear about you riding in a Taxi. He thinks it some kind of broom. Mum's going up the wall at the moment we've just had some men fixing us an anti-muggle device and they've had to come back twice to fix it because it wasn't working properly. None of us could get in the house, we had to camp in the garden for a night! Have you heard from Sirius recently? Oh and can you please send Hedwig back with the reply. Errol seems to be even weaker than usual, and Pig has a sprained wing- he flew into the window. See you soon Ron
Harry had decided that it would be safer for all concerned if he got a taxi to Ottery St Catchpole where Ron lived. His grate wasn't hooked up to the Flu Network, and after last year's accident, where Dudley had eaten ton tongue toffee and the Dursley's front room wall had been smashed to pieces there was no way that Harry was going to risk it again. He would take a taxi to Ron's village and then walk up to the Weasley's wonderful house called The Burrow. He thought of Ron's brothers, and the fun they'd had together over the last few years. He was looking forward to seeing Mrs Weasley again, particularly her brilliant cooking. He spent the rest of the day finishing his holiday homework, which was to research into the Great Wizard Duel of 308 and completing another five inches of his divination essay. Then ignoring Dudley's taunts from outside his door, he rolled over and reread Flying with Cannons, a book about Ron's favourite Quidditch team.
That night Harry dreamed again. This time as soon as he shut his eyes the boy was sitting there waiting for him. Harry seemed to be trapped in there with him. His eyes explored the room. It was a black, dark cellar, with slimy brick walls, and an old fashioned door. He could smell the sea salt clearly. The boy was dressed in muggle clothes, which struck Harry as odd, he was sure that the boy should be a wizard. Then he saw the doorknob turning, and the scar on his forehead exploded with pain. Harry woke up sweating in his bed, moaning with pain. He knew this was not a good sign. In the past the pain had been connected with activities of his worst enemy- Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort was a wizard, but on the dark side. He and Harry had first met when Harry was one, when he had killed both Harry's parents. Somehow he, a baby, not even able to talk, had survived, and Voldemort had fled, weakened to a fraction of his power. Harry had been sent to live with his aunt and uncle, muggles, who hated anything to do with magic. Harry had grown up, not even knowing that he was a wizard, until his eleventh birthday when he had received a letter from Hogwarts. He was now returning as a fifth year, and was looking forward to it very much even if he had to take his OWLs this year. Ordinary Wizarding Levels were qualifications that wizards took instead of muggle GCSEs. Harry lay on his bed feeling tired out as if had had no sleep. It was too early for him to get up, but he knew that any more sleep that night would be impossible. Outside in Privet Drive, the streetlights were illuminating his bedroom with a spooky orange glow. He went to the window and looked out. Outside in the monochrome environment everything was quiet. The drive looked as it always did, nothing unusual here, thank you very much. Except there was something a bit unusual. There was something lurking in the hedge opposite the Dursley's house. Harry couldn't quite work out what it was. It appeared to be small, but it was too big to be a cat. Harry was just about to look at it again when it disappeared. Perhaps I'm still dreaming thought Harry. Instead of the futile attempts to get to sleep he decided to pack everything up. He slipped downstairs to the living room where he knew the key was kept to wardrobe and opened it. His black robes were hung up neatly and Harry felt a thrill of excitement as he thought about wearing them again. Then he carefully put his wizarding clothes in the trunk along with his books. He also slipped in the invisibility cloak, the only thing his parents had left him, apart from a large pile of money stored in the wizard bank Gringotts. He carefully took the most precious book he owned off his bookshelf and sat on his bed staring at the deep red front cover. The words Photo Album, were glowing a faint golden colour. He opened it gently. Inside were pictures of his parents. It had been a present from Hagrid the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Inside his parents smiled out at him and in some pictures waved. Wizard photos are not like muggle photos, because the people move. One picture took up the whole page. His mother and father were kissing on a sandy beach, as the waves lapped up to their bare feet, and the wind blew out his mother's hair behind her. Tall palms swayed gracefully behind them. They withdrew from the kiss, and smiled at Harry. He could almost smell the sea. At once Harry felt a deep pang of sadness and closed the book quickly, his heart aching. He placed it carefully in the trunk with the other books. He put his quills, and the collection of Chocolate Frog Cards he had collected. At the front a tall wizard with a long grey beard was studying a book. Harry smiled. He was looking forward to seeing Professor Dumbledore again. Harry then checked his room, and beneath the floorboards for anything he might have forgotten, and then taking his wand from its hallowed position on his desk he slipped it into his pocket. Then he crept downstairs and phoned the taxi company, and asked them to pick him up as soon as possible. He was going to go as soon as they could. He knew the Dursleys wouldn't mind. The disembodied voice on the phone told him that they would arrive within ten minutes. Harry quickly scrawled a note to the Dursleys and left it on the dining room table. He then pulled his trunk downstairs, returned the key to its drawer and returned for Hedwig's cage. Eventually the taxi turned up, and the driver did a double take seeing a large snowy white owl in a cage, "Isn't that against RSPCA regulations?" he asked suspiciously. Harry got into the taxi, and then spent the next twenty minutes making up a story about how they had found this owl with an injured leg while out in the country, and had nursed it back to health (after getting the RSPCA's advice of course!). On hearing this Hedwig started hopping round the cage a bit and looking pained. This together with Harry's story must have been convincing because the driver looked suitably impressed. Harry settled back with relief. They spent most of the rest of the journey in silence, with Harry watching the countryside pass his window.
By the time the taxi reached Ottery St Catchpole it was after midday, and Harry was ravenous. "Where do you want dropping?" the driver suddenly asked. Harry rapidly thought. He knew that the Weasleys lived in Ottery St Catchpole, but he only knew roughly where their house was, he suddenly began to feel worried. "Oh just in the centre," Harry replied. Last time he had found the Weasleys' house he had been very tired after the Quidditch World Cup. He'd just followed Mr Weasley, not really noticing where they were going. Harry remembered the note about the new anti-muggle security device that they'd had installed which meant that muggles couldn't find the Weasley house. How was he going to find it, if muggles couldn't see it? A short while later they arrived in the centre of Ottery St Catchpole. It consisted of an ancient church and a peeling post office, and a few scattered houses. This'll be fine," said Harry nervously. The driver raised his eyebrows. "You know where you're going don't ya?" "Yes, my friend will be meeting me here" "You sure?" "Yes, Yes we're just a bit early that's all, I'll wait," "I think I better stay until some one comes," persisted the driver. Harry could just imagine his face if the Weasleys in their patched multi-coloured cloaks and robes turned up. "Look, I'll be fine," Harry said rather more crossly than he meant. The driver glared at him and then quickly unloaded the trunk and cage, and drove off, muttering about impudent children. Harry pulled his trunk up the road. A car screeched past him, honking its horn. Harry turned to see three children in the back seat staring with their mouths open at Hedwig and his old fashioned trunk. He found the turning to the Weasleys' house. Panting and puffing, he dragged the trunk up the dirt track. He was sure the house was just round the next bend. With one last pant of effort, he collapsed in front of the Weasleys' house, or rather where the Weasleys' house should be. it wasn't there. There was just a gate, behind which was a field of rippling golden wheat. Harry looked around desperately, what was he supposed to do, had the Weasleys moved without telling him? He got his wand out and tapped the gate, but nothing seemed to happen. He threw open his trunk and took out two packets of chocolate frogs. He ate one and stuffed the other in his pocket. He then let Hedwig out and she flew softly overhead as he ran back down to the village of Ottery St Catchpole and looked again at the scattered buildings. None of them looked remotely like the Weasley's house. He suddenly had a horrible thought. What if the new anti-muggle device made the Weasley's house look like a normal house, like Hogwarts looked like a ruined castle, he would never be able to find it. Or perhaps it just made the house invisible and you could only get there by tapping the third brick on your left like Diagon Alley. Harry then plucked up courage. He'd have to do something, he couldn't just sleep outside. He walked towards the nearest muggle house and tapped lightly on the door. A harassed young woman came to it, a bawling baby in her arms, "Excuse me do you know where the Weasleys live?" he asked politely. "Weasels, Don't know any weasels." The baby bawled louder, Harry had to raise his voice to be heard, "Weasleys. They have six sons, and a daughter" "Maybe, I don't now everyone 'ere" "They may seem a little strange to you," Harry said in desperation. "Oi, you're bein' rude" and the woman closed the door firmly in his face. Harry walked miserably back down the concrete path, kicking a loose stone, and wondering what he was going to do. However he was still hungry, and retrieved a packet of chocolate frogs from his pocket. They'd melted slightly, but Harry was past caring. Panic was starting to build. He sat on the village green, wondering if his trunk was alright under the hedge. He ate the frogs enjoying their sweetness, and wondering what to do next. Hedwig landed close to Harry, and seemed to be agitated. She was flapping up and down and giving little hoots. Harry stared at her. She was usually so well behaved, why was she disturbing him as he was trying to think. Then he realised. He dived into his bag, and pulled out a scroll and parchment, and wrote,
Ron Help, I'm in Ottery St Catchpole, sitting where your house should be, and I don't know how to get to your house, Please hurry, Harry
Then he tied the note to Hedwig's leg, and sat back down on the damp grass. Across the green he noticed the curtains twitching, and the silhouette of a person watching him. Well he'd given them something to gossip about anyway thought Harry bitterly. He walked slowly back to his trunk, and found some stale pastries, and chewed on them slowly. It was only five minutes later that Hedwig returned. Harry grabbed her leg and tore the reply off.
Harry, I'm sorry I forgot to tell you what to do, walk up the road a little and you'll see a bench. Sit on it, and whisper "Revelum husian Weasley" and the house should appear opposite you, See you soon Ron
Harry grabbed hold of his trunk and yanked it along the road with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, and Hedwig circling high above him, hooting happily. The trunk was very awkward to drag along further up the bumpy country road and then up a dirt track. He was very relieved when he eventually saw the green bench in front of him. It was an odd looking bench, especially as it seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. It was made of iron and the seat was made of just one large bent maple leaf. Harry with a last struggle dragged the trunk up to the bench and flopped onto it, breathless. Eventually he had gained enough strength to put it on the bench with him and Hedwig joined him gently pinching his ear. Harry stroked her snowy white back and closed his eyes before whispering "Revelum husian Weasley".