Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, brilliantly created by J.K.
Rowling. Most situations are based on those created by J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Three: Harry
Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley quickly discovered that a depressed Harry was the best thing to have around. He willingly stayed in his bedroom most of the day, ate very little and they heard almost nothing about magic, save for the occasional owl flying by. All in all they stayed out of each other's way, and that made both parties very happy.
Not that you could call Harry happy. He was still reeling from the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. The world he had grown to love was quickly blown apart and no one he knew could help him. Harry knew that the only thing that could help him was the resurrection of Siruis, but no amount of wishing and hoping would bring the man back.
Ron and Hemione were worried. Hagrid was worried. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were worried. Harry knew that. But he didn't know what they expected him to do about the situation. They all wanted to help him, but Harry knew there was nothing that anyone could do. Ever. The only constant in his life was that death was forever. He had grown up with his parents' death and now he would become an adult with Sirius' death on his shoulders. Sirius' death that was his fault. He felt guilty every night. Voldemort had come into his dreams. He had made Harry think that Sirius was under attack. If only he had continued his Occlumency lessons.
The wise voice of Albus Dumbledore resounded in his head. "You know quite well that Sirius' death was not your fault," it said, but it was no comfort. Harry spent his days trying to distract himself from his guilt- provoking thoughts. At least today he had the Burrow to think about. It was almost time to leave. Even in his depressed state Harry knew that seeing Ron and Hermione would be a comfort, if not a cheer up. They had all experienced a loss that night, albeit none as much as Harry, but they all knew where the other was coming from. Yes, he decided, seeing my friends will help me.
Harry was in the process of packing his trunk. He could hear the Dursleys having breakfast in the kitchen, Dudley still complaining about the restricted food his mother made him eat. They were leaving the house soon, for a visit with Aunt Marge, so that they wouldn't witness Harry's trip. Not that it mattered. Harry was going to Mrs. Figg's house to use her fireplace. Since he had found out that she was a squib, Mrs. Figg had provided much comfort. It was nice to know there was a connection - no matter how small - to the magical community on Privet Drive.
"Boy!" came the voice of Uncle Vernon, "Boy!"
"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry opened his door a crack and called out.
"We're leaving! Don't forget to lock the door on your way out!"
"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry said again. Harry heard nothing else but the family leaving the home and getting into the car. He waited until he could no longer see the vehicle before he pulled everything he needed out of his room and down the stairs. When he stood in the doorway he looked back at the house. One more summer, he thought. Just one more summer. And with that, he just the door to another year away from Privet Drive.
Mrs. Figg was waiting for him, watching from the front door. Harry was suddenly struck with the thought that he was being watched again, as he had the previous summer. The nagging voice - his own this time - came back and said, Come on, was it really that bad? They were only trying to protect you.
"Hello Harry," Mrs. Figg said as she let him in. "You all set to go?"
Harry looked at Mrs. Figg in disbelief. As he was surrounded by his trunk, Hedwig and trusty Firebolt, the fact that he was ready was quite obvious. Mrs. Figg noticed his look. "Of course you're ready. The question is, do you know how you're going to get there?"
Harry shook his head. Since Voldemort's return, he had to be very careful the way he traveled. The Floo Network was good for most, as long as they weren't headed for Number 12 Grimmauld Place (the Order of the Phoenix headquarters), but in Harry's case it was not the best way to travel. Mrs. Figg had worked closely with Mad Eye Moody to arrange a meeting place, where they would then leave for the Burrow.
"First you'll head to the Leaky Cauldron, where Mad Eye will meet you. Have a safe trip, Harry. I'll see you next summer," Mrs. Figg said, pleasantly.
"Thank you," Harry said, and he stepped into the fireplace and was soon swirling away towards the Leaky Cauldron.
* * *
When he landed on the floor in the Leaky Cauldron, Mad Eye Moody helped him up immediately. "Ah, right on time, right on time. Let's get going right away," he said, and with the help of a few other wizards got both Harry and his trunk to the alley behind the bar.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready," Harry said, and he mounted his broomstick. Together, he and Mad Eye Moody took off. After what seemed like hours to Harry, they had finally arrived at the Burrow.
Chapter Three: Harry
Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley quickly discovered that a depressed Harry was the best thing to have around. He willingly stayed in his bedroom most of the day, ate very little and they heard almost nothing about magic, save for the occasional owl flying by. All in all they stayed out of each other's way, and that made both parties very happy.
Not that you could call Harry happy. He was still reeling from the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. The world he had grown to love was quickly blown apart and no one he knew could help him. Harry knew that the only thing that could help him was the resurrection of Siruis, but no amount of wishing and hoping would bring the man back.
Ron and Hemione were worried. Hagrid was worried. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were worried. Harry knew that. But he didn't know what they expected him to do about the situation. They all wanted to help him, but Harry knew there was nothing that anyone could do. Ever. The only constant in his life was that death was forever. He had grown up with his parents' death and now he would become an adult with Sirius' death on his shoulders. Sirius' death that was his fault. He felt guilty every night. Voldemort had come into his dreams. He had made Harry think that Sirius was under attack. If only he had continued his Occlumency lessons.
The wise voice of Albus Dumbledore resounded in his head. "You know quite well that Sirius' death was not your fault," it said, but it was no comfort. Harry spent his days trying to distract himself from his guilt- provoking thoughts. At least today he had the Burrow to think about. It was almost time to leave. Even in his depressed state Harry knew that seeing Ron and Hermione would be a comfort, if not a cheer up. They had all experienced a loss that night, albeit none as much as Harry, but they all knew where the other was coming from. Yes, he decided, seeing my friends will help me.
Harry was in the process of packing his trunk. He could hear the Dursleys having breakfast in the kitchen, Dudley still complaining about the restricted food his mother made him eat. They were leaving the house soon, for a visit with Aunt Marge, so that they wouldn't witness Harry's trip. Not that it mattered. Harry was going to Mrs. Figg's house to use her fireplace. Since he had found out that she was a squib, Mrs. Figg had provided much comfort. It was nice to know there was a connection - no matter how small - to the magical community on Privet Drive.
"Boy!" came the voice of Uncle Vernon, "Boy!"
"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry opened his door a crack and called out.
"We're leaving! Don't forget to lock the door on your way out!"
"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry said again. Harry heard nothing else but the family leaving the home and getting into the car. He waited until he could no longer see the vehicle before he pulled everything he needed out of his room and down the stairs. When he stood in the doorway he looked back at the house. One more summer, he thought. Just one more summer. And with that, he just the door to another year away from Privet Drive.
Mrs. Figg was waiting for him, watching from the front door. Harry was suddenly struck with the thought that he was being watched again, as he had the previous summer. The nagging voice - his own this time - came back and said, Come on, was it really that bad? They were only trying to protect you.
"Hello Harry," Mrs. Figg said as she let him in. "You all set to go?"
Harry looked at Mrs. Figg in disbelief. As he was surrounded by his trunk, Hedwig and trusty Firebolt, the fact that he was ready was quite obvious. Mrs. Figg noticed his look. "Of course you're ready. The question is, do you know how you're going to get there?"
Harry shook his head. Since Voldemort's return, he had to be very careful the way he traveled. The Floo Network was good for most, as long as they weren't headed for Number 12 Grimmauld Place (the Order of the Phoenix headquarters), but in Harry's case it was not the best way to travel. Mrs. Figg had worked closely with Mad Eye Moody to arrange a meeting place, where they would then leave for the Burrow.
"First you'll head to the Leaky Cauldron, where Mad Eye will meet you. Have a safe trip, Harry. I'll see you next summer," Mrs. Figg said, pleasantly.
"Thank you," Harry said, and he stepped into the fireplace and was soon swirling away towards the Leaky Cauldron.
* * *
When he landed on the floor in the Leaky Cauldron, Mad Eye Moody helped him up immediately. "Ah, right on time, right on time. Let's get going right away," he said, and with the help of a few other wizards got both Harry and his trunk to the alley behind the bar.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready," Harry said, and he mounted his broomstick. Together, he and Mad Eye Moody took off. After what seemed like hours to Harry, they had finally arrived at the Burrow.