Chapter 3: Birthday
The match was over, and several thousands of people were leaving the Quidditch stadium heading to their tents. No one said anything, the recent match just let them with their mouth shut; everything was unexpected -- and the Romanians didn't play a fair game either. Harry was sure that there was no match like that in history - and he knew that no one will make that in the future. Or who knew... an idea of his team doing something like that passed through his mind... but it wouldn;t be of any use.
Harry went back to the Weasley's tent. No one spoke yet, they were astounded by everything they saw only ten minutes ago. Everyone went to their own tent, and the Wesaleys started eating.
After they finished eating, Harry asked Ron, "Wanna go to a walk outside?"
"Sure," said Ron. They both went outside the tent, and watched the people around them packing and leaving. Very few haven't started the packing yet, and some of them were the Weasleys.
"They are already leaving!?" asked Ron.
"What else can they do? Stay here and wait for a Norwegian rematch? I think that we should go, too..."
"Dad decides when we will, and he said that we will eat first and only after that we will leave."
"Stay here? When everyone leaves? People may think that we are... up to something," said Harry, watching Dean Thomas, one of the Gryffindor fifth years, helping his mother to pack the tent with some various spells. "Your dad is mad!"
Harry was sitting at the entrance to their tent, looking at the people around... Everyone was in a hurry. Why, he couldn't say. He saw Cho again, but she didn't see him that time; she was helping her family with the packing. Harry was reminded that only half an hour ago, they talked a little... His mind seemed to think for itself lots of times recently, and Harry was reminded of Cho many times. It was, mostly, that he felt responsible and guilty for Cedric's death, he was sure of that. Or was it more...?
"It's very cloudy," said Ron while he pointed to something in the sky.
"Yes..." said Harry, looking interrested at that.
Both of them started laughing. "Wait a minute -" asked Ron, still laughing, "That can't be a cloud..."
"What else?" Harry looked at it again. It didn't look like anything else than a dark cloud. Both of them stared at the cloud for a while and then they were distracted by someone screaming.
"What is that?" asked Harry in a very fast voice.
"Somebody screamed!" said Ron, "Let's go to see what happened."
They stood up and started looking for anything bad - they had no idea what could have caused a person to scream like that. Harry thought about last year's riot and he thought the Death Eaters were going to start an evil plan again -- but they couldn't, because they were on Hogwarts grounds. That was way too dangerous and no Death Eaters could be that stupid -- well, if it wasn't for Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's sidekicks, who were very stupid -- to do something on the Grounds...
Harry and Ron explored everything around their tent but everything seemed fine. Hary noticed that there were very few tents on the Hogwarts Grounds at that time, mostly everyone left. And the only families who were still there were packing.
Harry then saw that the Weasleys weren't even thinking of leaving yet. Ron went back to the tent, but Harry didn't; he saw the lake and walked to it. It was a very nice evening - the moon was shining brightly in the sky, lighting everything with a very low and pleasant light. Harry liked how it looked like.
He sat down on the cold grass near the shore. This place was very comforting. Hogwarts was just at this back, he felt like he was at home. And the lake was bringing more memories than he could imagine...
The first thing that came to his mind was his stupidity at the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. He wanted to do the other champions' jobs, and rescue all those who were locked up on the bottom of the lake. He took a message seriously which said thet the prisoners -- Ron, Hermione, Cho and Gabrielle, Fleur's sister -- would be gone forever after an hour. He had never understood how he could be that stupid. He imagined what the others were thinking of him when they found out why he waited that long on the bottom of the lake... still Dumbledore took his stupidity in a good way and gave him 90 percent of the maximum score, even if he was well outside the time limit.
But one of those held on the bottom of the lake was Cho, herself... That brought her to Harry's memory once again.
Then Harry felt someone touching his back. He stood up frightened. When he turned to see who the person was, Hary saw that it was just Dumbledore. He got scared for nothing...
"Hello, Harry."
"Good morning, Professor."
Dumbledore smiled at that moment, and looked at the cloud-free sky, his eyes twinkled again as usual. "I thought it was evening... but if you say so, let it be morning."
Harry understood what he said and almost started to laugh loud, but he prevented himself from doing it. After all, it was evening...
"I see you wanted to be alone..." said Dumbledore in a warm, pleasant voice. "I understand it... everyone needs some time to be alone, to rest..."
"Yes..." said Harry, then accidently he spit out, "I don't feel good when I am alone at the Dursleys."
"Well... Know that not everything is as we want it to be. Remember this, remember that the future is not bright for everyone. No one knows what the future will do us... Not even Professor Trelawney." He smiled again, it was funny sometimes to gossip... Especially on Trelawney who did only two true predictions in her entire life.
Harry knew that Dumbledore was completely right. Especially him; Harry liked being alone sometimes... The times when he stood at the Dursleys weren't comforting, but this time, sitting by the Hogwarts castle... it was different. One of the things that happened was that he always got too much atention, and he didn't like it. While lots of people would love to be famous, Harry just hated it, and he would have switched with anyone at anytime. He was sick of the stares at his scar everyone gave. He was sick of everyone looking at him when he walked. And, to make him feel worse, his best friend, Ron, was jealous on his fame and on the attention people always gave him.
"Professor," said Harry, wanting to ask him what happened, "Why did everyone leave in that hurry?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," said Dumbledore. "I was in the castle until I saw you by the lake..."
"We heard someone scream..." said Harry, and when he heard that, Dumbledore looked around at the Weasley tent, which was the only one who was still there.
"I've got to go, Harry. See you," Dumbledore said hurriedly and he ran away. Harry didn't have any idea why he left. This gave Harry the same feeling that everyone gave him when they were in a hurry...
Harry went back to his thoughts. He liked thinking about joyful things(he tried to leave the sad ones for another time again).
Other things came to his mind. One of them was the book Hermoine gave him. He hadn't read anything from the book, even if he didn't have what to do. It was just that its name didn't sound too welcoming.
Harry went later back to their tent, because Mr. Weasley called him. "Harry! Time to go!"
"Why did everyone leave and we still remained?" asked Harry.
"W - Er - W - What?" he asked, looking confused. Something very strange was happening to Mr. Weasley. "Oh."
Harry stood and for a moment. Mr. Weasley looked as he was controlled by someone, or he was in a trance; and when Harry asked him that question he got out of it. But, what could it be? It wasn't an Imperius at all, because Harry saw with his eyes how Mr. Weasley 'woke up', and a thing like that will never be caused by an Imperius. Maybe it was a very strong Confundus Charm... It was the only possibility, Harry had never seen the Confundus Charm himself, so he imagined that the spell on Mr. Weasley was one.
And, even with that, who would want to control Mr. Weasley? He wasn't so high in the Ministry so using him as a spy was almost useless. No one would want to control Mr. Weasley... but that was what Harry saw: he was controlled by someone...
He tried to put that out of his mind, remembering that he still had more than a month to spend at the Dursleys.
This summer, the Quidditch Match was almost nothing. Nothing, compared to what happened last year at the Final, where the people were enjoying looking at it, at least until the Death Eaters started having fun with the riot.
"We will go home using another set of Portkeys," said Mr. Weasley. "We will all go to the Burrow, and Harry will go to the Dursleys from there. Here, touch this."
He took a circular object from his pocket. That was a muggle object Harry recognized, he saw it on Dudley's computer: it was a CD.
The entire family crowded around it. Being a very samll thing, it was very hard to be touched by ten persons at the same time. And when they all managed to do it, Harry felt again how it was to travel by a Portkey.
They ended in front of the Burrow and Harry went sadder. He had to go, again, to live with the Dursleys... alone for another month... he just hoped he would be able to live off memories for another entire month. And, even worse, he had to wait until september first with the Dursleys annoying him all day. Errol's death came to Harry's mind; and it was just Uncle Vernon's fault - for eveything. That if Harry didn't consider that Errol entered Dudley's room instead of Harry's...
"Here," said Mr. Weasley to Harry, "You cannot stay here, not even for ten minutes now - but take this portkey. This is supposed to bring you between Privet Drive number 4 and the Burrow for about twenty times. I worked very hard to build this, so come only if you really need."
Mr. Weasley gave Harry another plug he turned into a portkey. But, before Harry could say good-bye to anyone, he saw his room on Privet Drive materialize... He had mistakenly activated the Portkey. "Damn!"
Uncle Vernon's voice echoed through the house, saying something like "That little idiot is back". Harry had nothing to say to argue about that, because anything he said could have had a bad consequence. Then, the door slid open and Uncle Vernon's moustache appeared in the small room. Shortly after, Uncle Vernon entered inside...
"Already back, boy?" he asked. "Well, know that the days without you were better than the others - and I want you to not disturb us. Be careful, this is not tolerated!"
Then he talked a little more, Harry didn't listen to all of it. He just knew that, again (the first time was in his second year) they limited his access into the house. Vernon told him not to go out of his room more than at meals, and he also told him to eat fast and go to his room as quickly as possible.
Even though this time he wasn't locked in his room, it wasn't a lot of difference. He could never find something to think about, and he couldn't bring back too many memories... All he had to do was to read Hermione's book, except from the homework the Hogwarts teachers gave him.
So, he took the Dark Book of Dark Arts, and opened it. He felt nothing strange when doing so, and that made sure that it wasn't an evil book. The first chapter was called 'What are the Dark Arts'. And he proceeded to reading the first few lines, to make an image of what the book was about.
''What are the Dark Arts? This is a question asked by many wizards. There are many kinds of dark arts, some of them are not considered dark anymore -- like common curses. Everybody knows that there are some strong spells used by Dark Wizards, but not many know why only the evil ones use them.
These spells are quite easy to use. They need some dark power from the body of the caster, and the rest is easy - everything is done by the spell. The caster only had to think that he had to use the spell, and do a little concentration. He had no need of a wand, incantation, he only needed to think that he wanted to use it and a strong desire to do it, an urge too prove yourself. Besides that, these spells are quite draining.
Many people were attracted by those spells. And - no one can explain why - everyone who abused this kind of spells had his mind changed. In his mind were printed words like "kill", "hurt", "steal". This is an unexplained effect, and in the history there were only two wizards who used the spells wothout turning evil.
The first case was about one thousand years ago. Godric Gryffindor, who was one of the founders of Hogwarts, learnt some dark arts, and used them against Slytherin, to stop his evil plans. Everyone knew that Salazar was evil, but no one could prove it. And their only chance was Godric, because he could control Salazar and force him to do some good things.
The second case discovered is, also, one of the most known wizards of all times. Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts, learnt the Dark Arts himself, by pure couriosity. But he didn't turn evil, and even though he saw that he couldn't turn Evil, he was too noble to use them. He had only used them against Grindelwald in 1945.
But not all the dark wizards turn evil only after learning the dark arts. The other case is that they learn them only after they turn evil, and they do it to be a dark wizard. Others would say, "what dark wizard is the one who doesn't know the Dark Arts?".
Being that simple to use, the evil wizards abuse them, ignoring their energy-draining effects. They have strong effects, too, being able to do much stronger things than simple spells. Every single spell has a similar dark art, which is used easier. That's why most of the Dark Wizards know strong spells - actually they don't. It's just the Dark Arts who help them...''
This was the book's introduction. Harry thought it was quite interresting, and a strange desire to learn the Dark Arts passed through him... he felt a cold breeze in his insides...
What am I thinking about, he asked himself, before getting angry with himself for even thinking to learn the dark arts - and that meant turning evil... He pictured himself fighting Dumbledore - no, he couldn't have that...
Then, what would Cho think of him if he was a dark wizard, siding with Voldemort? He didn't even want to think about that either...
He continued reading the book. Other pages explained some of the dark spells. Harry understood why they were that destructive - a levitating spell only needed for the caster to think of where he wanted to see an object, and it automatically flied to that point. The only bad thing was that if a wizard tried to make an object fly over a too long distances, he would be so drained that he couldn't even stand on his feet. Harry just imagined a Wingardium Leviosa doing something like that...
Everything was so easy, indeed... But then, he remembered something. Dumbledore told them at the end of the school year that the time would come when they had to choose of what is right and what is easy. This was the time - the Dark Arts were easy, but it would be right to stay to the good side... And, after all, Harry wasn't in Slytherin. The ones who turned evil were all slytherins... Or would he be the first Gryffindor to turn Evil?
No.
He had never thought of something like that before, and tried to ignore that he ever thought of something like that - it just made him feel worse, and like an idiot. And if he didn't ignore that, it would haunt him for a long time...
Time passed faster when Harry was reading that book... It was something interresting, Hermione had a very good idea to send him that book. At least, he learned something useful, not all the 'stupidities' Hermione read. 'stupidities' was the word given by Harry and Ron to what she read.
One day, he realized that it was his birthday. He almost forgot it, mainly because it wasn't a very important event for him. He remembered it only a few minutes before a pack of owls hurried to his window, clicking their beacks to make him open it. He woke up and opened the window, and Harry felt some cold air get in the room.
There were five letters this time. Harry took the first one, and saw Hermione's writing on it.
Drar Harry,
I hope things are getting better. Happy birthday! When will you go to Diagon Alley? We might meet there. See you!
Love, Hermione
The letter had another book in a bigger parcel. The owl that brought it was very tired, Harry allowed it to stay in Hedwig's cage. He saw that the book was looking almost the same as the first one. He tried to find the title, but it didn't have any.
Ron's letter was next, and he told Harry they will go to Diagon Alley one week before the school started. Harry sent Pigwidgeon back with another letter telling Ron that Harry agreed to meet them there, but he asked how to go there.
Ron's present was something Harry had never expected from Ron - Maybe from Hermione - it was a wand-cleaner. It was very odd to have something like that from a person like Ron...
Harry then proceeded to the next letter. It was Hagrid's. From the time Harry touched it, lots of sweets burst out of it, filling a part of the floor with tasty things Harry already knew. Then, he read the short letter.
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday!
I hope you will like what I sent you. I suppose the Dursleys are starving you, aren't they?
Anyway, have a nice summer. And don't forget to survive - who knows what the Dursleys are going to do you this time.
Cheers, Hagrid
Then, the next letter was from Sirius. It did not contain any letter; everything was the few lines Sirius sent him.
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday! You should know where I live by now, I won't tell you because the owl may fail and fall in hands of someone who we won't like to know where I am. The only thing is that I had no present to give you. Sorry about that, I will consider something else as a late birthday present...
Love, Sirius
Harry read the letter and was glad that Sirius was fine. He knew from the end of last year that Sirius lived with Lupin, and that was a good thing - it meant he was safe. Harry saw that the last letter was from Hogwarts. It had to be McGonagall's letter saying what he needed for the fifth year. Harry proceeded to read what she had to say.
'Hogwarts fifth years need new sets of cauldrons and potion ingredients.' That was the first line in the letter. He read them fast, and looked at the book list...
'The Standard Book of Spells, grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk
The Advanced Book Of Spells by Lysander Pigwett
Advanced Crystal Gazing by George Lunatikum
Advanced Transfigutation by Emeric Switch
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Hogwarts, a History by anonymous writers
Dark Powers: Counter-curses by Alastor Moody
One Hundred Potion Formulas by The Yobag'
The first thing he thought about was the Dark Powers: Counter-curses by Alastor Moody. Last year, they had the defense against the dark arts teacher a Fake Moody, who turned out to be Barty Crouch Jr, the most faithful of the Death Eaters. And they all knew that the real Moody should have been very good against Dark Arts, because he was one of the best aurors existant in the times of Voldemort.
He already had some of the books, but some others were new. Harry stared at the line where it said 'Hogwarts, A History'. It was the book Hermione most annoyed them. 'Haven't you read Hogwarts, A History?', 'It's in Hogwarts, A History'... Both Ron and Hermione were sick of the times when she mentioned that. This year, they would have to read the book... Harry wondered what Hermione would say about it.
He then started to do his homework. He continued the Potions one, writing about Sleeping potions('It would be fun to give a strong sleep potion to Malfoy!' said Harry in his thoughts). He almost finished it when Pigwidgeon was back, and Harry read the letter,
Dear Harry!
I've spoken to my dad and he said he gave you a portkey that would bring you to us. Come to us the last sunday before Hogwarts starts, and we will all leave from there. Hermione will be in Diagon Alley then, too. You may come today, too! Dad said that you may stay at us but not more than half an hour.
See you soon - Ron
Harry turned happier while he read the letter. He forgot about the Portkey Mr. Weasley made for him. The thought of seeing his friends took his attention completely. He looked around the small room to search for the portkey, but where did he put it? He didn't remember it...
Then, he started searching the entire room for it. The forst place to be searched was the table and under the bed. And he searched, until relief came to him: he saw it in a corner of the room, hidden by a book.
'Wierd, I don't remember putting it here', said Harry in his head.
Forgetting all of it, he took the portkey and held it in his hand. It was a mystery for him how they worked, but he knew that there were many types of portkeys. He wondered what type of portkey was this. And after a few seconds, he found himself at the Burrow.
But, mysteriously, it was very quiet. The usual explosions created by Fred and George were missing, even the Ghoul from the attic seemed to not be there. Harry wanted to know what happened, and explored the house -- he searched it entirely and it was as empty as it was quiet. There was no one inside it... Judging that Mrs. Weasley rarely left the house, Harry thought that something was going on. Not to forget that Mr. Weasley said that he could come that day.
Wondering if it was just one of the Weasley's jokes, or maybe a surprise, he searched in every corner of the house -- and there was no person inside. It was something very strange.
He waited for a few minutes, and he left a note saying that he was there. Then, he took again the Portkey and left. He had in mind that there was something very unusual going on... but what? He couldn't tell that... he now had another mystery to solve... added to the already very long list - starting with the fall of Lord Voldemort, fourteen years ago; after that there was a question: how did he do a Patronus to drive off more than one hundred dementors in his third year. Then, he wondered what was Voldemort doing - and the list fo questions was very long.
After going back to the Dursleys, he looked at the book Hermione gave him for his birthday. He took it and opened it, seeing nothing. That reminded him of Tom Riddle's -- that meant Voldemort's -- diary that forced Ginny to open the Chamber of Secrets.
He took his quill, wrote something in the book, but it didn't disappear. It didn't look like a diary anyway, it was just like an unwritten book. He told himself that he would try to solve its mistery later, and put it back under the bed.
He soon fell asleep that evening.
The match was over, and several thousands of people were leaving the Quidditch stadium heading to their tents. No one said anything, the recent match just let them with their mouth shut; everything was unexpected -- and the Romanians didn't play a fair game either. Harry was sure that there was no match like that in history - and he knew that no one will make that in the future. Or who knew... an idea of his team doing something like that passed through his mind... but it wouldn;t be of any use.
Harry went back to the Weasley's tent. No one spoke yet, they were astounded by everything they saw only ten minutes ago. Everyone went to their own tent, and the Wesaleys started eating.
After they finished eating, Harry asked Ron, "Wanna go to a walk outside?"
"Sure," said Ron. They both went outside the tent, and watched the people around them packing and leaving. Very few haven't started the packing yet, and some of them were the Weasleys.
"They are already leaving!?" asked Ron.
"What else can they do? Stay here and wait for a Norwegian rematch? I think that we should go, too..."
"Dad decides when we will, and he said that we will eat first and only after that we will leave."
"Stay here? When everyone leaves? People may think that we are... up to something," said Harry, watching Dean Thomas, one of the Gryffindor fifth years, helping his mother to pack the tent with some various spells. "Your dad is mad!"
Harry was sitting at the entrance to their tent, looking at the people around... Everyone was in a hurry. Why, he couldn't say. He saw Cho again, but she didn't see him that time; she was helping her family with the packing. Harry was reminded that only half an hour ago, they talked a little... His mind seemed to think for itself lots of times recently, and Harry was reminded of Cho many times. It was, mostly, that he felt responsible and guilty for Cedric's death, he was sure of that. Or was it more...?
"It's very cloudy," said Ron while he pointed to something in the sky.
"Yes..." said Harry, looking interrested at that.
Both of them started laughing. "Wait a minute -" asked Ron, still laughing, "That can't be a cloud..."
"What else?" Harry looked at it again. It didn't look like anything else than a dark cloud. Both of them stared at the cloud for a while and then they were distracted by someone screaming.
"What is that?" asked Harry in a very fast voice.
"Somebody screamed!" said Ron, "Let's go to see what happened."
They stood up and started looking for anything bad - they had no idea what could have caused a person to scream like that. Harry thought about last year's riot and he thought the Death Eaters were going to start an evil plan again -- but they couldn't, because they were on Hogwarts grounds. That was way too dangerous and no Death Eaters could be that stupid -- well, if it wasn't for Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's sidekicks, who were very stupid -- to do something on the Grounds...
Harry and Ron explored everything around their tent but everything seemed fine. Hary noticed that there were very few tents on the Hogwarts Grounds at that time, mostly everyone left. And the only families who were still there were packing.
Harry then saw that the Weasleys weren't even thinking of leaving yet. Ron went back to the tent, but Harry didn't; he saw the lake and walked to it. It was a very nice evening - the moon was shining brightly in the sky, lighting everything with a very low and pleasant light. Harry liked how it looked like.
He sat down on the cold grass near the shore. This place was very comforting. Hogwarts was just at this back, he felt like he was at home. And the lake was bringing more memories than he could imagine...
The first thing that came to his mind was his stupidity at the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. He wanted to do the other champions' jobs, and rescue all those who were locked up on the bottom of the lake. He took a message seriously which said thet the prisoners -- Ron, Hermione, Cho and Gabrielle, Fleur's sister -- would be gone forever after an hour. He had never understood how he could be that stupid. He imagined what the others were thinking of him when they found out why he waited that long on the bottom of the lake... still Dumbledore took his stupidity in a good way and gave him 90 percent of the maximum score, even if he was well outside the time limit.
But one of those held on the bottom of the lake was Cho, herself... That brought her to Harry's memory once again.
Then Harry felt someone touching his back. He stood up frightened. When he turned to see who the person was, Hary saw that it was just Dumbledore. He got scared for nothing...
"Hello, Harry."
"Good morning, Professor."
Dumbledore smiled at that moment, and looked at the cloud-free sky, his eyes twinkled again as usual. "I thought it was evening... but if you say so, let it be morning."
Harry understood what he said and almost started to laugh loud, but he prevented himself from doing it. After all, it was evening...
"I see you wanted to be alone..." said Dumbledore in a warm, pleasant voice. "I understand it... everyone needs some time to be alone, to rest..."
"Yes..." said Harry, then accidently he spit out, "I don't feel good when I am alone at the Dursleys."
"Well... Know that not everything is as we want it to be. Remember this, remember that the future is not bright for everyone. No one knows what the future will do us... Not even Professor Trelawney." He smiled again, it was funny sometimes to gossip... Especially on Trelawney who did only two true predictions in her entire life.
Harry knew that Dumbledore was completely right. Especially him; Harry liked being alone sometimes... The times when he stood at the Dursleys weren't comforting, but this time, sitting by the Hogwarts castle... it was different. One of the things that happened was that he always got too much atention, and he didn't like it. While lots of people would love to be famous, Harry just hated it, and he would have switched with anyone at anytime. He was sick of the stares at his scar everyone gave. He was sick of everyone looking at him when he walked. And, to make him feel worse, his best friend, Ron, was jealous on his fame and on the attention people always gave him.
"Professor," said Harry, wanting to ask him what happened, "Why did everyone leave in that hurry?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," said Dumbledore. "I was in the castle until I saw you by the lake..."
"We heard someone scream..." said Harry, and when he heard that, Dumbledore looked around at the Weasley tent, which was the only one who was still there.
"I've got to go, Harry. See you," Dumbledore said hurriedly and he ran away. Harry didn't have any idea why he left. This gave Harry the same feeling that everyone gave him when they were in a hurry...
Harry went back to his thoughts. He liked thinking about joyful things(he tried to leave the sad ones for another time again).
Other things came to his mind. One of them was the book Hermoine gave him. He hadn't read anything from the book, even if he didn't have what to do. It was just that its name didn't sound too welcoming.
Harry went later back to their tent, because Mr. Weasley called him. "Harry! Time to go!"
"Why did everyone leave and we still remained?" asked Harry.
"W - Er - W - What?" he asked, looking confused. Something very strange was happening to Mr. Weasley. "Oh."
Harry stood and for a moment. Mr. Weasley looked as he was controlled by someone, or he was in a trance; and when Harry asked him that question he got out of it. But, what could it be? It wasn't an Imperius at all, because Harry saw with his eyes how Mr. Weasley 'woke up', and a thing like that will never be caused by an Imperius. Maybe it was a very strong Confundus Charm... It was the only possibility, Harry had never seen the Confundus Charm himself, so he imagined that the spell on Mr. Weasley was one.
And, even with that, who would want to control Mr. Weasley? He wasn't so high in the Ministry so using him as a spy was almost useless. No one would want to control Mr. Weasley... but that was what Harry saw: he was controlled by someone...
He tried to put that out of his mind, remembering that he still had more than a month to spend at the Dursleys.
This summer, the Quidditch Match was almost nothing. Nothing, compared to what happened last year at the Final, where the people were enjoying looking at it, at least until the Death Eaters started having fun with the riot.
"We will go home using another set of Portkeys," said Mr. Weasley. "We will all go to the Burrow, and Harry will go to the Dursleys from there. Here, touch this."
He took a circular object from his pocket. That was a muggle object Harry recognized, he saw it on Dudley's computer: it was a CD.
The entire family crowded around it. Being a very samll thing, it was very hard to be touched by ten persons at the same time. And when they all managed to do it, Harry felt again how it was to travel by a Portkey.
They ended in front of the Burrow and Harry went sadder. He had to go, again, to live with the Dursleys... alone for another month... he just hoped he would be able to live off memories for another entire month. And, even worse, he had to wait until september first with the Dursleys annoying him all day. Errol's death came to Harry's mind; and it was just Uncle Vernon's fault - for eveything. That if Harry didn't consider that Errol entered Dudley's room instead of Harry's...
"Here," said Mr. Weasley to Harry, "You cannot stay here, not even for ten minutes now - but take this portkey. This is supposed to bring you between Privet Drive number 4 and the Burrow for about twenty times. I worked very hard to build this, so come only if you really need."
Mr. Weasley gave Harry another plug he turned into a portkey. But, before Harry could say good-bye to anyone, he saw his room on Privet Drive materialize... He had mistakenly activated the Portkey. "Damn!"
Uncle Vernon's voice echoed through the house, saying something like "That little idiot is back". Harry had nothing to say to argue about that, because anything he said could have had a bad consequence. Then, the door slid open and Uncle Vernon's moustache appeared in the small room. Shortly after, Uncle Vernon entered inside...
"Already back, boy?" he asked. "Well, know that the days without you were better than the others - and I want you to not disturb us. Be careful, this is not tolerated!"
Then he talked a little more, Harry didn't listen to all of it. He just knew that, again (the first time was in his second year) they limited his access into the house. Vernon told him not to go out of his room more than at meals, and he also told him to eat fast and go to his room as quickly as possible.
Even though this time he wasn't locked in his room, it wasn't a lot of difference. He could never find something to think about, and he couldn't bring back too many memories... All he had to do was to read Hermione's book, except from the homework the Hogwarts teachers gave him.
So, he took the Dark Book of Dark Arts, and opened it. He felt nothing strange when doing so, and that made sure that it wasn't an evil book. The first chapter was called 'What are the Dark Arts'. And he proceeded to reading the first few lines, to make an image of what the book was about.
''What are the Dark Arts? This is a question asked by many wizards. There are many kinds of dark arts, some of them are not considered dark anymore -- like common curses. Everybody knows that there are some strong spells used by Dark Wizards, but not many know why only the evil ones use them.
These spells are quite easy to use. They need some dark power from the body of the caster, and the rest is easy - everything is done by the spell. The caster only had to think that he had to use the spell, and do a little concentration. He had no need of a wand, incantation, he only needed to think that he wanted to use it and a strong desire to do it, an urge too prove yourself. Besides that, these spells are quite draining.
Many people were attracted by those spells. And - no one can explain why - everyone who abused this kind of spells had his mind changed. In his mind were printed words like "kill", "hurt", "steal". This is an unexplained effect, and in the history there were only two wizards who used the spells wothout turning evil.
The first case was about one thousand years ago. Godric Gryffindor, who was one of the founders of Hogwarts, learnt some dark arts, and used them against Slytherin, to stop his evil plans. Everyone knew that Salazar was evil, but no one could prove it. And their only chance was Godric, because he could control Salazar and force him to do some good things.
The second case discovered is, also, one of the most known wizards of all times. Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts, learnt the Dark Arts himself, by pure couriosity. But he didn't turn evil, and even though he saw that he couldn't turn Evil, he was too noble to use them. He had only used them against Grindelwald in 1945.
But not all the dark wizards turn evil only after learning the dark arts. The other case is that they learn them only after they turn evil, and they do it to be a dark wizard. Others would say, "what dark wizard is the one who doesn't know the Dark Arts?".
Being that simple to use, the evil wizards abuse them, ignoring their energy-draining effects. They have strong effects, too, being able to do much stronger things than simple spells. Every single spell has a similar dark art, which is used easier. That's why most of the Dark Wizards know strong spells - actually they don't. It's just the Dark Arts who help them...''
This was the book's introduction. Harry thought it was quite interresting, and a strange desire to learn the Dark Arts passed through him... he felt a cold breeze in his insides...
What am I thinking about, he asked himself, before getting angry with himself for even thinking to learn the dark arts - and that meant turning evil... He pictured himself fighting Dumbledore - no, he couldn't have that...
Then, what would Cho think of him if he was a dark wizard, siding with Voldemort? He didn't even want to think about that either...
He continued reading the book. Other pages explained some of the dark spells. Harry understood why they were that destructive - a levitating spell only needed for the caster to think of where he wanted to see an object, and it automatically flied to that point. The only bad thing was that if a wizard tried to make an object fly over a too long distances, he would be so drained that he couldn't even stand on his feet. Harry just imagined a Wingardium Leviosa doing something like that...
Everything was so easy, indeed... But then, he remembered something. Dumbledore told them at the end of the school year that the time would come when they had to choose of what is right and what is easy. This was the time - the Dark Arts were easy, but it would be right to stay to the good side... And, after all, Harry wasn't in Slytherin. The ones who turned evil were all slytherins... Or would he be the first Gryffindor to turn Evil?
No.
He had never thought of something like that before, and tried to ignore that he ever thought of something like that - it just made him feel worse, and like an idiot. And if he didn't ignore that, it would haunt him for a long time...
Time passed faster when Harry was reading that book... It was something interresting, Hermione had a very good idea to send him that book. At least, he learned something useful, not all the 'stupidities' Hermione read. 'stupidities' was the word given by Harry and Ron to what she read.
One day, he realized that it was his birthday. He almost forgot it, mainly because it wasn't a very important event for him. He remembered it only a few minutes before a pack of owls hurried to his window, clicking their beacks to make him open it. He woke up and opened the window, and Harry felt some cold air get in the room.
There were five letters this time. Harry took the first one, and saw Hermione's writing on it.
Drar Harry,
I hope things are getting better. Happy birthday! When will you go to Diagon Alley? We might meet there. See you!
Love, Hermione
The letter had another book in a bigger parcel. The owl that brought it was very tired, Harry allowed it to stay in Hedwig's cage. He saw that the book was looking almost the same as the first one. He tried to find the title, but it didn't have any.
Ron's letter was next, and he told Harry they will go to Diagon Alley one week before the school started. Harry sent Pigwidgeon back with another letter telling Ron that Harry agreed to meet them there, but he asked how to go there.
Ron's present was something Harry had never expected from Ron - Maybe from Hermione - it was a wand-cleaner. It was very odd to have something like that from a person like Ron...
Harry then proceeded to the next letter. It was Hagrid's. From the time Harry touched it, lots of sweets burst out of it, filling a part of the floor with tasty things Harry already knew. Then, he read the short letter.
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday!
I hope you will like what I sent you. I suppose the Dursleys are starving you, aren't they?
Anyway, have a nice summer. And don't forget to survive - who knows what the Dursleys are going to do you this time.
Cheers, Hagrid
Then, the next letter was from Sirius. It did not contain any letter; everything was the few lines Sirius sent him.
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday! You should know where I live by now, I won't tell you because the owl may fail and fall in hands of someone who we won't like to know where I am. The only thing is that I had no present to give you. Sorry about that, I will consider something else as a late birthday present...
Love, Sirius
Harry read the letter and was glad that Sirius was fine. He knew from the end of last year that Sirius lived with Lupin, and that was a good thing - it meant he was safe. Harry saw that the last letter was from Hogwarts. It had to be McGonagall's letter saying what he needed for the fifth year. Harry proceeded to read what she had to say.
'Hogwarts fifth years need new sets of cauldrons and potion ingredients.' That was the first line in the letter. He read them fast, and looked at the book list...
'The Standard Book of Spells, grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk
The Advanced Book Of Spells by Lysander Pigwett
Advanced Crystal Gazing by George Lunatikum
Advanced Transfigutation by Emeric Switch
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Hogwarts, a History by anonymous writers
Dark Powers: Counter-curses by Alastor Moody
One Hundred Potion Formulas by The Yobag'
The first thing he thought about was the Dark Powers: Counter-curses by Alastor Moody. Last year, they had the defense against the dark arts teacher a Fake Moody, who turned out to be Barty Crouch Jr, the most faithful of the Death Eaters. And they all knew that the real Moody should have been very good against Dark Arts, because he was one of the best aurors existant in the times of Voldemort.
He already had some of the books, but some others were new. Harry stared at the line where it said 'Hogwarts, A History'. It was the book Hermione most annoyed them. 'Haven't you read Hogwarts, A History?', 'It's in Hogwarts, A History'... Both Ron and Hermione were sick of the times when she mentioned that. This year, they would have to read the book... Harry wondered what Hermione would say about it.
He then started to do his homework. He continued the Potions one, writing about Sleeping potions('It would be fun to give a strong sleep potion to Malfoy!' said Harry in his thoughts). He almost finished it when Pigwidgeon was back, and Harry read the letter,
Dear Harry!
I've spoken to my dad and he said he gave you a portkey that would bring you to us. Come to us the last sunday before Hogwarts starts, and we will all leave from there. Hermione will be in Diagon Alley then, too. You may come today, too! Dad said that you may stay at us but not more than half an hour.
See you soon - Ron
Harry turned happier while he read the letter. He forgot about the Portkey Mr. Weasley made for him. The thought of seeing his friends took his attention completely. He looked around the small room to search for the portkey, but where did he put it? He didn't remember it...
Then, he started searching the entire room for it. The forst place to be searched was the table and under the bed. And he searched, until relief came to him: he saw it in a corner of the room, hidden by a book.
'Wierd, I don't remember putting it here', said Harry in his head.
Forgetting all of it, he took the portkey and held it in his hand. It was a mystery for him how they worked, but he knew that there were many types of portkeys. He wondered what type of portkey was this. And after a few seconds, he found himself at the Burrow.
But, mysteriously, it was very quiet. The usual explosions created by Fred and George were missing, even the Ghoul from the attic seemed to not be there. Harry wanted to know what happened, and explored the house -- he searched it entirely and it was as empty as it was quiet. There was no one inside it... Judging that Mrs. Weasley rarely left the house, Harry thought that something was going on. Not to forget that Mr. Weasley said that he could come that day.
Wondering if it was just one of the Weasley's jokes, or maybe a surprise, he searched in every corner of the house -- and there was no person inside. It was something very strange.
He waited for a few minutes, and he left a note saying that he was there. Then, he took again the Portkey and left. He had in mind that there was something very unusual going on... but what? He couldn't tell that... he now had another mystery to solve... added to the already very long list - starting with the fall of Lord Voldemort, fourteen years ago; after that there was a question: how did he do a Patronus to drive off more than one hundred dementors in his third year. Then, he wondered what was Voldemort doing - and the list fo questions was very long.
After going back to the Dursleys, he looked at the book Hermione gave him for his birthday. He took it and opened it, seeing nothing. That reminded him of Tom Riddle's -- that meant Voldemort's -- diary that forced Ginny to open the Chamber of Secrets.
He took his quill, wrote something in the book, but it didn't disappear. It didn't look like a diary anyway, it was just like an unwritten book. He told himself that he would try to solve its mistery later, and put it back under the bed.
He soon fell asleep that evening.