DISCLAIMER: Everything you don't recognize from J.K. Rowling's phenomenal
series is mine. MINE!!! But everything you do recognize (which is almost
everything, except the snake!) belongs to Ms. Rowling.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, now, this is my first fanfiction, so please, please, PLEASE bear with me. If it sucks, let me know. If you like it, let me know. Okie dokie? Well, let the story begin.......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER 1: FORBIDDEN AND BANISHED
"What are you still doing here? Go on, get!"
The eagle owl gave a disgruntled hoot at Harry's rudeness and flew off. Harry stormed around his room, the note crumpled in his fist.
"I hate Dumbledore," he muttered, his voice gradually growing louder. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him...."
"Keep it down up there!" Vernon bellowed. "I don't want to listen to your moans and complains!"
Harry lay down on his bed with a heavy sigh. How could Dumbledore do this to him, and at the very beginning of holiday? Cut him off from his friends all summer? Barking mad. He looked back at the note he had just received.
Dear Harry, I'm sorry to say this, because I know it will disappoint you. But you must obey this, because it is extremely important. You must not have any contact with Ron and Hermione at all this summer. It may bring danger to them, and yourself. As far as we know, Voldemort does not know where you stay during the summer holidays, and we, and I'm sure you as well, would like to keep it that way. We have also received news from a very reliable source that Voldemort is keen in finding out everything he can about you, and is currently looking for you. So I must tell you, do not leave the house. I know this may seem extreme, but don't go outside, don't even look out the window. I'm sorry to ruin your holiday, but it is for the best. Professor Dumbledore
Harry reread those last three words. 'For the best.' Ha, yeah right. Why is it that everything bad seemed to be for the best?
Harry glared at the crisp sheet of parchment in his hand. He wanted desperately to rip it up, and throw away the pieces. But this would be his only connection to the wizarding world all summer. Hedwig, sensing that her owner was down in the dumps, flew out of her cage and landed beside him on the bed. She nipped his ear in an affection way, and he gave her a small smile.
"At least I have you, old girl," he said quietly.
**********
Harry's summer was horrible since he didn' have Ron and Hermione to keep in touch with. The only thing that helped him get by was the fact that he would see his best friends on Septermber first, so, naturally, he was counting down the days.
After what seemed like an eternity, Harry woke up on July thirtieth. He glanced at his alarm clock and was shocked that it read one o'clock PM. He jumped out of bed and stuggled to pull on a pair of jeans. He dashed out of his room, his shirt half-on, and skidded to a stop in the living room. He found the Dursleys in the dining room, just sitting down to lunch.
"I see you're finally up," Uncle Vernon snapped, his fork missing his mouth. "Well, sit down before there's nothing left."
Harry uneasily slid into the chair opposite his uncle. Dudley smirked at Harry when his father wasn't looking, and Harry nodded towards his belt. His cousin's eyes grew wide, for he knew that Harry's wand was tucked away there.
"Duddykins, your father and I are going out this afternoon, and we won't be back until late this evening," Aunt Petunia said. Harry looked up from his plate of slightly charred macaroni and cheese.
"Does that mean that I'll have the house to myself?" Dudley asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Not quite," Vernon said. "He-" he pointed his fork at Harry. "-will still be here. So, I'm leaving you in charge. I trust that you won't let him do anything to ol' Number Four?"
"Of course not," Dudley said with a nod, although Harry could see that his cousin was scared out of his knickers at the thought of being left alone with him.
Petunia and Vernon left at about four o'clock, and Dudley immediately flopped down on the sofa, remote in hand, and a large assortment of junk food on the coffee table.
"Where'd you get all that?" Harry asked, sitting off to the side. Harry knew very well that Dudley had stolen it all, and kept it hidden in his closet, but he just wanted to see if he would admit it.
"It's no concern of yours," Dudley muffled through a mouthful of brownie.
"But what about your diet?" Harry questioned, a slight grin on his face. He loved to see his cousin cringe at the word 'diet'.
"What diet?" Dudley choked as he flipped through the television channels.
As Harry sat there, thinking of ways to annoy his cousin throughout the day, a loud hooting drifted down from his bedroom.
"Shut that damn bird up," Dudley snapped. "I can't hear my program."
"Hedwig!" Harry called. "Come here, girl!" His precious bird soared down the stairs and perched gracefully on her master's shoulder, followed by a large tawny.
Dudley looked at the owl uneasily as it flew around the room, looking for an appropriate place to land. Given any other situation, Harry would have told the owl to give him the note, but since his aunt and uncle weren't home, and the owl was making Dudley uncomfortable, Harry let it do what it wanted.
The tawny noticed the bowl of popcorn in Dudley's lap, and immediately dived at it, causing utter chaos. Popcorn flew everywhere, the owl screeched, Dudley let out a piercing scream, and Harry enjoyed every bit of it. After a good five minutes' laugh, Harry called the tawny to him.
"Can I have my letter?" he asked, choking back giggles. With a hoot the owl stuck out its leg and Harry took the envelope. "Thanks."
Still finding it hilarious that Dudley was on the couch nearly having a heart attack, Harry ripped open the yellow envelope, although he knew what it was. His Hogwarts list for this year. But as he thought about it, his heart sank. This would be his last year at Hogwarts.
Harry was truly considering failing every class this year, so he would be held back to return for another year, but he knew Hermione wouldn't allow that. He also thought of getting a job at Hogwarts. As what? Caretaker? Filch was getting much to old to tend to the castle. No, he wouldn't stoop that low. He would just have to accept the fact that his time at Hogwarts was almost at its end.
Dudley was snoring on the sofa shortly after, the remote still clutched in his death grip.
Harry checked the clock on the mantel. Five-thirty. There was surely nothing interesting on television, and the news wouldn't be on this early. He would have to sneak down when his uncle watched it later this evening.
With a yawn of boredom, Harry pulled himself out of the chair and shuffled over to Uncle Vernon's rolltop desk. He sat down heavily in the sturdy redwood chair. The chair had to be strong to support Uncle Vernon's tremendous bulk. Harry pulled out several sheets of paper, which felt weird between his fingers; he was so used to writing on thick parchment. He grabbed a pen and began chewing on the end, thinking. He wanted desperately to write to his friends. He had so much to say to them. But how would Dumbledore know if he sent Ron and Hermione letters? Surely they wouldn't inform the Headmaster? Harry put the pen to the paper and began to write.
Ron- I know Dumbledore said I couldn't write to you and Hermione, but I feel so cut off from the wizarding world. Summer here with the Dursleys is awful, even more so than usual. But I can't even leave the house to get away for a few hours. And something has been troubling me lately. Don't over-react to this, but
Before Harry could write another word, something large collided with his head, knocking him off the chair. Looking up, he recognized it as the eagle owl that had brought him his letter from Dumbledore. Harry groaned, noticing that there was a sheet of parchment clutched in the owl's talons.
"Give me that," Harry said, reaching out his hand. The owl dropped the note on Harry's palm and took off.
Nice try, Harry. I have other ways of finding out if you communicate with your friends, for I know that they will not tell me if they hear from you. Don't let me catch you trying again, or I'll expel you. Enjoy the rest of your holiday. Professor Dumbledore
Harry crumpled it up, furious. "Why are you watching me?" he yelled.
Dudley bolted upright. "I didn't take it, Mummy!" he cried out stupidly. He noticed Harry on the floor. "Oh, it's just you. Getting illegal notes? Mum said that you aren't allowed to keep in touch with your freak friends."
"It's from my headmaster," Harry said, climbing to his feet. "He somehow just caught me trying to write to my friend."
"Thought you were sneaky, eh?" Dudley sneered.
"Shut up, or I'll curse you," Harry threatened. Dudley didn't seem to doubt it, for he left Harry alone.
His stomach growling, Harry ambled into the kitchen to make himself some dinner. Aunt Petunia had said there was a pot of stew in the refridgerator for them to heat up when they were hungry. Harry spooned himself a heaping bowl of it - noticing quite a few things he couldn't identify - and stuck it in the microwave for five minutes. He went into the living room and grabbed one of Dudley's sodas. His cousin glared at him, but didn't do anything about it. Harry laughed quietly, loving the fact that his cousin feared him.
Vernon and Petunia returned around quarter of eleven, and Harry noticed that they seemed surprised to see the house in one piece. He also realized that Dudley had slipped out of the house as soon as his parents were home.
He's off for a smoke with his mates, Harry thought bitterly, watching his aunt inspect the house. He's gets to go off and I'm stuck in this damn house.
Uncle Vernon immediately poured himself a large brandy and seated himself in front of the television. All sign of Dudley's junk food was gone; the food had either been eaten or returned to his closet.
As Harry sat on the landing at the top of the stairs, he heard the familiar music of the eleven o'clock news. Not wanting to miss a single story, Harry silently and cat-like bounded down the stairs. When his aunt wasn't looking, he snuck into the downstairs bathroom, locking the door. He kept the light off, so no one would suspect he was in there.
Harry sat on the toilet, listening intently for any sound of news that may have something to do with the wizarding world.
"....the weather calls for sun all week..."
"Who cares about the damn weather," Harry muttered. "Come on..."
"The prime minister's dog died this morning...."
"What about the Minister of Magic?" Harry wondered.
"England was flattened in the finals last night...."
"I don't think they mean Quidditch," Harry moaned to himself.
"...and that concludes tonight's exciting edition of the eleven o'clock news...."
The television was turned off just as the cheesy end music began. Harry sighed, his rear end sore from sitting on the hard toilet for half an hour. Nothing interesting was mentioned that may have the slightest thing to do with Voldemort. Harry gazed long and hard at his reflection in the mirror. It was difficult to see, because the light was off and it was so late at night, but he could see the outline. The moon was reflecting off his glasses, giving an eerie effect on the mirror. Harry pushed aside his bangs. Although he couldn't see it in the darkness, he knew that his scar was there. He ran a finger along the lightning bolt, trying not to think of the man who had given it to him. But that was hard to do, because over the past few years, Harry was always thinking of Lord Voldemort. He haunted his thoughts, his dreams, everything. And every so often his scar would prickle, because now that Voldemort had returned to power, he and his Death Eaters were attacking, and he was always feeling murderous.
There was a sudden click as the lock was picked, and the room was filled with light as the door was flung open, stirring Harry from his thoughts.
"Hey!" he yelled, jumping to his feet. "Don't you know you're supposed to knock before barging into a loo?!"
Vernon glared as he grabbed Harry by the baggy rugby shirt he was wearing and pulled him out of the small bathroom.
"What are you doing?" Harry struggled to get out of his uncle's grip as the cupboard under the stairs was opened.
"Why were you sitting in the bathroom, listening to the news?" Vernon hissed, spit flying onto Harry's face.
"I wasn't," Harry lied, not bothering to wipe off the saliva as he looked into his uncle's eyes.
"Don't you lie to me," he growled. "I know very well that you were listening in. Face it, boy, they won't mention your kind on the news. No one cares."
"You have no idea what I go through!" Harry yelled, spitting in his uncle's. "Someone wants to kill me!"
"Yeah, me!" Vernon shoved Harry into the small space under the staircase and slammed the door.
There was a click as Harry was locked in.
"I've had enough of your poppy cock nonsense about someone wanting to kill off everyone," Vernon muttered, pacing back and forth in the foyer.
"Vernon," came Aunt Petunia's quiet voice. Harry guessed that she had just come out of the kitchen from washing the dishes. "The boy's right. You know what Dumbledore said."
There was silence, which meant that Vernon knew very well what Dumbledore had said. But what Dumbledore had told them, Harry didn't know.
"But Petunia, why do we have to take care of him?" Vernon questioned. "Why doesn't he live with that bloody godfather convict he's always talking about?"
"Vernon, you know very well that he's dead," Petunia reminded. Harry looked at his watch. Only ten more seconds.
"Oh, that's right," Vernon said loudly with no sign of sympathy as the clock struck midnight. "Probably went and got himself blown up like those damn Potters -"
"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT SIRIUS OR MY PARENTS!" Harry screamed, flinging the cupboard door open. He had his wand out, and aimed at his uncle.
"You can't do anything to me," Vernon said calmly, though his face was purple. "You'll surely get expelled this time."
"Oh no, I won't," Harry gave a twisted smile of anger. "You see, I'm of age now. It's now my birthday. I'm seventeen. That means I can use magic away from school now."
Vernon's face went from violet to white in record time as both Dursleys looked at the clock. Aunt Petunia gasped and stumbled back, cowering behind her massive husband.
The front door opened, and Dudley came in. He smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and whiskey.
"Hey Mum, Dad. I'm home-" he stopped, seeing Harry aiming his wand at his parents. "What are you doing? Do you want to get yourself expelled from that freak school? You can't do that here!"
"P-Popkin, he can," Aunt Petunia whispered, not taking her eyes off Harry. "He's of age. He's old enough to do that outside of school."
Dudley's eyes widened, and he backed against the door.
"Now, Harry, dear, you won't do that," Petunia said quietly. "You wouldn't get yourself expelled your last year, even thrown in Azkaban, by killing your family. No matter how much you hate us."
She was right. It was too close to the end of his education to just throw it all away. He gave a heavy sigh and lowered his wand.
There was several moments of akward silence. Harry looked down at his wand, which was still gripped tightly in his right hand. The Dursleys were still staring at Harry, and the silence was broken when Vernon said, quite calmly, "Get out."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, now, this is my first fanfiction, so please, please, PLEASE bear with me. If it sucks, let me know. If you like it, let me know. Okie dokie? Well, let the story begin.......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER 1: FORBIDDEN AND BANISHED
"What are you still doing here? Go on, get!"
The eagle owl gave a disgruntled hoot at Harry's rudeness and flew off. Harry stormed around his room, the note crumpled in his fist.
"I hate Dumbledore," he muttered, his voice gradually growing louder. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him...."
"Keep it down up there!" Vernon bellowed. "I don't want to listen to your moans and complains!"
Harry lay down on his bed with a heavy sigh. How could Dumbledore do this to him, and at the very beginning of holiday? Cut him off from his friends all summer? Barking mad. He looked back at the note he had just received.
Dear Harry, I'm sorry to say this, because I know it will disappoint you. But you must obey this, because it is extremely important. You must not have any contact with Ron and Hermione at all this summer. It may bring danger to them, and yourself. As far as we know, Voldemort does not know where you stay during the summer holidays, and we, and I'm sure you as well, would like to keep it that way. We have also received news from a very reliable source that Voldemort is keen in finding out everything he can about you, and is currently looking for you. So I must tell you, do not leave the house. I know this may seem extreme, but don't go outside, don't even look out the window. I'm sorry to ruin your holiday, but it is for the best. Professor Dumbledore
Harry reread those last three words. 'For the best.' Ha, yeah right. Why is it that everything bad seemed to be for the best?
Harry glared at the crisp sheet of parchment in his hand. He wanted desperately to rip it up, and throw away the pieces. But this would be his only connection to the wizarding world all summer. Hedwig, sensing that her owner was down in the dumps, flew out of her cage and landed beside him on the bed. She nipped his ear in an affection way, and he gave her a small smile.
"At least I have you, old girl," he said quietly.
**********
Harry's summer was horrible since he didn' have Ron and Hermione to keep in touch with. The only thing that helped him get by was the fact that he would see his best friends on Septermber first, so, naturally, he was counting down the days.
After what seemed like an eternity, Harry woke up on July thirtieth. He glanced at his alarm clock and was shocked that it read one o'clock PM. He jumped out of bed and stuggled to pull on a pair of jeans. He dashed out of his room, his shirt half-on, and skidded to a stop in the living room. He found the Dursleys in the dining room, just sitting down to lunch.
"I see you're finally up," Uncle Vernon snapped, his fork missing his mouth. "Well, sit down before there's nothing left."
Harry uneasily slid into the chair opposite his uncle. Dudley smirked at Harry when his father wasn't looking, and Harry nodded towards his belt. His cousin's eyes grew wide, for he knew that Harry's wand was tucked away there.
"Duddykins, your father and I are going out this afternoon, and we won't be back until late this evening," Aunt Petunia said. Harry looked up from his plate of slightly charred macaroni and cheese.
"Does that mean that I'll have the house to myself?" Dudley asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Not quite," Vernon said. "He-" he pointed his fork at Harry. "-will still be here. So, I'm leaving you in charge. I trust that you won't let him do anything to ol' Number Four?"
"Of course not," Dudley said with a nod, although Harry could see that his cousin was scared out of his knickers at the thought of being left alone with him.
Petunia and Vernon left at about four o'clock, and Dudley immediately flopped down on the sofa, remote in hand, and a large assortment of junk food on the coffee table.
"Where'd you get all that?" Harry asked, sitting off to the side. Harry knew very well that Dudley had stolen it all, and kept it hidden in his closet, but he just wanted to see if he would admit it.
"It's no concern of yours," Dudley muffled through a mouthful of brownie.
"But what about your diet?" Harry questioned, a slight grin on his face. He loved to see his cousin cringe at the word 'diet'.
"What diet?" Dudley choked as he flipped through the television channels.
As Harry sat there, thinking of ways to annoy his cousin throughout the day, a loud hooting drifted down from his bedroom.
"Shut that damn bird up," Dudley snapped. "I can't hear my program."
"Hedwig!" Harry called. "Come here, girl!" His precious bird soared down the stairs and perched gracefully on her master's shoulder, followed by a large tawny.
Dudley looked at the owl uneasily as it flew around the room, looking for an appropriate place to land. Given any other situation, Harry would have told the owl to give him the note, but since his aunt and uncle weren't home, and the owl was making Dudley uncomfortable, Harry let it do what it wanted.
The tawny noticed the bowl of popcorn in Dudley's lap, and immediately dived at it, causing utter chaos. Popcorn flew everywhere, the owl screeched, Dudley let out a piercing scream, and Harry enjoyed every bit of it. After a good five minutes' laugh, Harry called the tawny to him.
"Can I have my letter?" he asked, choking back giggles. With a hoot the owl stuck out its leg and Harry took the envelope. "Thanks."
Still finding it hilarious that Dudley was on the couch nearly having a heart attack, Harry ripped open the yellow envelope, although he knew what it was. His Hogwarts list for this year. But as he thought about it, his heart sank. This would be his last year at Hogwarts.
Harry was truly considering failing every class this year, so he would be held back to return for another year, but he knew Hermione wouldn't allow that. He also thought of getting a job at Hogwarts. As what? Caretaker? Filch was getting much to old to tend to the castle. No, he wouldn't stoop that low. He would just have to accept the fact that his time at Hogwarts was almost at its end.
Dudley was snoring on the sofa shortly after, the remote still clutched in his death grip.
Harry checked the clock on the mantel. Five-thirty. There was surely nothing interesting on television, and the news wouldn't be on this early. He would have to sneak down when his uncle watched it later this evening.
With a yawn of boredom, Harry pulled himself out of the chair and shuffled over to Uncle Vernon's rolltop desk. He sat down heavily in the sturdy redwood chair. The chair had to be strong to support Uncle Vernon's tremendous bulk. Harry pulled out several sheets of paper, which felt weird between his fingers; he was so used to writing on thick parchment. He grabbed a pen and began chewing on the end, thinking. He wanted desperately to write to his friends. He had so much to say to them. But how would Dumbledore know if he sent Ron and Hermione letters? Surely they wouldn't inform the Headmaster? Harry put the pen to the paper and began to write.
Ron- I know Dumbledore said I couldn't write to you and Hermione, but I feel so cut off from the wizarding world. Summer here with the Dursleys is awful, even more so than usual. But I can't even leave the house to get away for a few hours. And something has been troubling me lately. Don't over-react to this, but
Before Harry could write another word, something large collided with his head, knocking him off the chair. Looking up, he recognized it as the eagle owl that had brought him his letter from Dumbledore. Harry groaned, noticing that there was a sheet of parchment clutched in the owl's talons.
"Give me that," Harry said, reaching out his hand. The owl dropped the note on Harry's palm and took off.
Nice try, Harry. I have other ways of finding out if you communicate with your friends, for I know that they will not tell me if they hear from you. Don't let me catch you trying again, or I'll expel you. Enjoy the rest of your holiday. Professor Dumbledore
Harry crumpled it up, furious. "Why are you watching me?" he yelled.
Dudley bolted upright. "I didn't take it, Mummy!" he cried out stupidly. He noticed Harry on the floor. "Oh, it's just you. Getting illegal notes? Mum said that you aren't allowed to keep in touch with your freak friends."
"It's from my headmaster," Harry said, climbing to his feet. "He somehow just caught me trying to write to my friend."
"Thought you were sneaky, eh?" Dudley sneered.
"Shut up, or I'll curse you," Harry threatened. Dudley didn't seem to doubt it, for he left Harry alone.
His stomach growling, Harry ambled into the kitchen to make himself some dinner. Aunt Petunia had said there was a pot of stew in the refridgerator for them to heat up when they were hungry. Harry spooned himself a heaping bowl of it - noticing quite a few things he couldn't identify - and stuck it in the microwave for five minutes. He went into the living room and grabbed one of Dudley's sodas. His cousin glared at him, but didn't do anything about it. Harry laughed quietly, loving the fact that his cousin feared him.
Vernon and Petunia returned around quarter of eleven, and Harry noticed that they seemed surprised to see the house in one piece. He also realized that Dudley had slipped out of the house as soon as his parents were home.
He's off for a smoke with his mates, Harry thought bitterly, watching his aunt inspect the house. He's gets to go off and I'm stuck in this damn house.
Uncle Vernon immediately poured himself a large brandy and seated himself in front of the television. All sign of Dudley's junk food was gone; the food had either been eaten or returned to his closet.
As Harry sat on the landing at the top of the stairs, he heard the familiar music of the eleven o'clock news. Not wanting to miss a single story, Harry silently and cat-like bounded down the stairs. When his aunt wasn't looking, he snuck into the downstairs bathroom, locking the door. He kept the light off, so no one would suspect he was in there.
Harry sat on the toilet, listening intently for any sound of news that may have something to do with the wizarding world.
"....the weather calls for sun all week..."
"Who cares about the damn weather," Harry muttered. "Come on..."
"The prime minister's dog died this morning...."
"What about the Minister of Magic?" Harry wondered.
"England was flattened in the finals last night...."
"I don't think they mean Quidditch," Harry moaned to himself.
"...and that concludes tonight's exciting edition of the eleven o'clock news...."
The television was turned off just as the cheesy end music began. Harry sighed, his rear end sore from sitting on the hard toilet for half an hour. Nothing interesting was mentioned that may have the slightest thing to do with Voldemort. Harry gazed long and hard at his reflection in the mirror. It was difficult to see, because the light was off and it was so late at night, but he could see the outline. The moon was reflecting off his glasses, giving an eerie effect on the mirror. Harry pushed aside his bangs. Although he couldn't see it in the darkness, he knew that his scar was there. He ran a finger along the lightning bolt, trying not to think of the man who had given it to him. But that was hard to do, because over the past few years, Harry was always thinking of Lord Voldemort. He haunted his thoughts, his dreams, everything. And every so often his scar would prickle, because now that Voldemort had returned to power, he and his Death Eaters were attacking, and he was always feeling murderous.
There was a sudden click as the lock was picked, and the room was filled with light as the door was flung open, stirring Harry from his thoughts.
"Hey!" he yelled, jumping to his feet. "Don't you know you're supposed to knock before barging into a loo?!"
Vernon glared as he grabbed Harry by the baggy rugby shirt he was wearing and pulled him out of the small bathroom.
"What are you doing?" Harry struggled to get out of his uncle's grip as the cupboard under the stairs was opened.
"Why were you sitting in the bathroom, listening to the news?" Vernon hissed, spit flying onto Harry's face.
"I wasn't," Harry lied, not bothering to wipe off the saliva as he looked into his uncle's eyes.
"Don't you lie to me," he growled. "I know very well that you were listening in. Face it, boy, they won't mention your kind on the news. No one cares."
"You have no idea what I go through!" Harry yelled, spitting in his uncle's. "Someone wants to kill me!"
"Yeah, me!" Vernon shoved Harry into the small space under the staircase and slammed the door.
There was a click as Harry was locked in.
"I've had enough of your poppy cock nonsense about someone wanting to kill off everyone," Vernon muttered, pacing back and forth in the foyer.
"Vernon," came Aunt Petunia's quiet voice. Harry guessed that she had just come out of the kitchen from washing the dishes. "The boy's right. You know what Dumbledore said."
There was silence, which meant that Vernon knew very well what Dumbledore had said. But what Dumbledore had told them, Harry didn't know.
"But Petunia, why do we have to take care of him?" Vernon questioned. "Why doesn't he live with that bloody godfather convict he's always talking about?"
"Vernon, you know very well that he's dead," Petunia reminded. Harry looked at his watch. Only ten more seconds.
"Oh, that's right," Vernon said loudly with no sign of sympathy as the clock struck midnight. "Probably went and got himself blown up like those damn Potters -"
"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT SIRIUS OR MY PARENTS!" Harry screamed, flinging the cupboard door open. He had his wand out, and aimed at his uncle.
"You can't do anything to me," Vernon said calmly, though his face was purple. "You'll surely get expelled this time."
"Oh no, I won't," Harry gave a twisted smile of anger. "You see, I'm of age now. It's now my birthday. I'm seventeen. That means I can use magic away from school now."
Vernon's face went from violet to white in record time as both Dursleys looked at the clock. Aunt Petunia gasped and stumbled back, cowering behind her massive husband.
The front door opened, and Dudley came in. He smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and whiskey.
"Hey Mum, Dad. I'm home-" he stopped, seeing Harry aiming his wand at his parents. "What are you doing? Do you want to get yourself expelled from that freak school? You can't do that here!"
"P-Popkin, he can," Aunt Petunia whispered, not taking her eyes off Harry. "He's of age. He's old enough to do that outside of school."
Dudley's eyes widened, and he backed against the door.
"Now, Harry, dear, you won't do that," Petunia said quietly. "You wouldn't get yourself expelled your last year, even thrown in Azkaban, by killing your family. No matter how much you hate us."
She was right. It was too close to the end of his education to just throw it all away. He gave a heavy sigh and lowered his wand.
There was several moments of akward silence. Harry looked down at his wand, which was still gripped tightly in his right hand. The Dursleys were still staring at Harry, and the silence was broken when Vernon said, quite calmly, "Get out."