Chapter Two: More Ruddy Owls
It had taken Harry a whole week to work his way through Mrs. Weasley's giant of a birthday cake. And Harry had been practically living on it, since Aunt Petunia was still rigorously enforcing Dudley's diet, despite this, Harry noticed Dudley was getting more and more bear like every day. Harry on the other hand, was as scrawny as ever, he had grown a lot over the last few weeks, and he was even starting to grow out of Dudley's old clothes, his trousers barely reached the top of his ankles and his shirt had become more of a T-Shirt, they were as baggy as ever though.
Harry woke up early again on the Sunday, his alarm clock read 5 O' Clock, he had been dreaming about the Department of Mysteries again. When Sirius had died, the veil, the death eaters, the mysterious locked room… Harry tried in vein to get back to sleep, his bed clothes were drenched in sweat, and he had knocked his clothes from the bottom of his bed as he thrashed about in his sleep. As the cold morning light began to penetrate Harry's room, he rose groggily from his bed and stared into his mirror. His hair was all ruffled up, he tried to flatten it the best he could, but Harry knew better than to think it would ever look presentable. As he moved his hand over his scar it gave a small sting, Harry winced a little.
His eyes strayed over to the window and rubbed his eyes, a tiny owl was at the window.
"Why didn't you knock?" Harry said sleepily, opening the window. The owl bore his copy of The Sunday Prophet, Harry dutifully paid the owl a single Knut and opened up the Prophet.
"HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED STRONGER THAN EVER" SAYS BONES
The Ministry of Magic has quashed rumours that You-Know-Who is on the retreat today. A spokesperson for the Minister said "we have it on reliable sources that You-Know-Who is gaining strength and supporters by the day and is now stronger than ever".
Harry grinned, he knew that when The Prophet said "sources" it meant, "The Order of the Phoenix". That reminded Harry, he needed to write to Moody to tell him everything was okay.
The lack of activity by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers has led to an increasing belief that the Dark Lord has simply faded away into the background, or that he never returned at all, despite the repeated assurances from The Prophet, The Ministry of Magic and Albus Dumbledore.
For advice on how to protect your home, turn to page…
Harry thought for a second, if they'd seen what he'd seen, done what he'd done… there'd be no doubt in their mind. Maybe these people just don't want to admit that he was back, he thought, they think that if they deny it, it'll all go away. But they know, in their back of their minds, they know he's back. And when it all starts, really starts, they'll no longer be able to ignore it.
Harry tried not to think about it, he'd gone over this a thousand times in his mind, he'd have to kill, it all revolved around death, and it was all Voldemort's fault, he caused all this misery and pain, one man, it just wasn't right.
Harry pulled out a quill and a piece of parchment, Hedwig looked up excitedly, he knew she was bored, "Don't worry, we'll be back at Hogwarts soon", he reassured her, she hooted pompously and turned her head. He began his letter to Moody, he had to write to him every three days, to make sure he was okay, at first these letters were packed with questions and news, but they had gradually got smaller, now they were just a small acknowledgement of his existence.
Professor Moody,
Everything's fine, though I wouldn't mind getting out of here. The muggles are boring.
He'd been asking Moody whether he'd be leaving for the Burrow, or Grimauld Place, he never got a reply. Harry attached the letter to Hedwig's leg.
"You know where to take it…" He said, and Hedwig soared off through the window.
He flicked back through The Prophet, a few suspicious muggle killings, more guides on home defence. He remembered what Hermione had said last year, "it hasn't really started yet".
At half past nine Harry pulled on his trousers and shirt and went downstairs for breakfast, the Dursleys were already arranged around the breakfast table. Dudley was shovelling down what looked like a fruit bowl full of Muesli, Aunt Petunia was pouring herself a large glass of orange juice and Uncle Vernon was reading the local paper; Little Whinging Weekly. Harry took his seat opposite Uncle Vernon, he poured himself some cereal and was just about to pick up the jug of orange juice when he noticed something was horribly wrong…
Every day since the summer holidays began Harry had come down to the same scene, same breakfast (in accordance with Dudley's diet), same disgusted look on Aunt Petunia's face. But usually, Uncle Vernon had wasted no time in asking Harry whether he had written to his "freak friends", terrified 'Mad-Eye' Moody would turn up on there doorsteps. (What would the neighbours think?) For the first week of so, Harry had enjoyed pretending he had forgot and observing the Dursley's look of pure horror as he dashed upstairs. But the novelty had worn off.
Only Uncle Vernon hadn't said a word to Harry this morning, by now, Aunt Petunia and Dudley had noticed too, they were looking nervously between Uncle Vernon and Harry. After a couple of seconds of tense silence, Uncle Vernon slammed the newspaper down on the table. They whole family was now glaring at Harry.
"Look!" Uncle Vernon said, jabbing at the paper, his neck muscled tensed and his face beetroot red.
Harry scanned the Headlines: MillLaneSchool visits aquarium, Zebra Crossing gets go-ahead, £42.59 raised at sponsored haircut, unusual owl activity, Sparky the donkey found… Harry's face sunk as he saw the article, a tiny paragraph in the corner of the eighteenth page.
Unusual Owl Activity
The Little Whinging Amateur Bird Spotter's (LWABS) club has noted a change in the usually sleeping patterns of the region's owls, as well as an increase in the number of owls being spotted that are not native to this region. Experts believe that global warming may be a factor.
Harry opened his mouth to utter a defence but Uncle Vernon got there first.
"I TOLD YOU TO MAKE SURE THEY WEREN'T SEEN!" He roared, Aunt Petunia shrieked and Dudley made to grab the newspaper, looking smug. "IF THE NEIGHBOURS WEREN'T SUSPICIOUS ALREADY, THEY WILL BE NOW, IN THE BLOODY PAPER I TELL YOU!"
"But, but… hardly anyone's going to read that and it didn't mention…" Harry said quickly.
"I DON'T CARE! IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE NEIGHBOURS AND THOSE FREAK FRIENDS OF YOURS I'D HAVE YOU OUT OF THIS HOUSE LIKE THAT!" Uncle Vernon clicked his fingers loudly.
"Now Vernon, we can't just…" Aunt Petunia squealed, Dudley looked disappointed.
"It's okay Petunia, I know… But mark my words boy, if the neighbours get wind of any of this I'll have you out of here quicker than you can say owl. I don't care what the neighbours think!" Harry knew it was an empty threat, but he was still scared for his safety if he left the house, Voldemort could get him at any time. But he wasn't going to tell Uncle Vernon that.
"You wouldn't dare!" He said, plunging his hands into his pockets instinctively and pulling out his wand. Aunt Petunia shrieked and Dudley fled behind Uncle Vernon.
"YOU DON'T SCARE ME BOY! I KNOW YOU CAN'T USE THAT THING, SO PUT IT AWAY AND GET UP THOSE STAIRS, I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN! AND IF YOU TELL THOSE FRIENDS OF YOURS, I'LL THROTTLE YOU BEFORE THEY GET CHANCE TO GET HERE!" Uncle Vernon was on his feet, Aunt Petunia and Dudley crouching behind him (not that Uncle Vernon could block even half of Dudley's vast behind from sight). Harry practically threw his chair across the room as he stood up, staring at Uncle Vernon, determined not to blink. He was right, he was helpless, he couldn't use magic, or leave, it would be too risky. Harry turned on his heels and stormed upstairs. Slamming the kitchen door behind him.
He threw himself down on the bed, not even turning the light on. Trying to calm himself down, think about what to do. He couldn't stay here now, it was definitely time to get out of here, out of Privet Drive, out of Little Whinging, back to where he belonged, the wizarding world. After a couple of minutes, he pulled himself of the bed, grabbed a quill and started writing.
Moody,
The muggles have had enough, my owls were seen and well, it's a long story. Anyway, the muggles have locked me up here, just like last year, I need to get out of here. To the Burrow, or Grimauld Place, anywhere, just away from here.
Harry
He'd have to wait until Hedwig came back from her last delivery to send it, he sighed and laid back down on his bed, wondering if Moody would come and get him, or if he'd just have to ride it out. He dreamt of being back at the Burrow, he didn't want to go to Grimauld place, too many memories, of Sirius, Kreacher…
Before long Harry had slipped into a deep sleep. He was in that room, in the Department of Mysteries, a veil shimmered in the middle of the room, Harry walked forward, he could here something, someone called, screaming. Sirius. It got louder as he went closer to the veil, Harry became suddenly excited, he would see Sirius, he could see a shadow behind the veil, he was there, just behind the veil. He could see Sirius' smiling face, he wasn't really dead, just behind the veil, he was just there, everyone was there, Mum, Dad, Cedric, everyone… he could feel them. He pushed away the veil, a shadow was crouched on the floor
"Master…" The shadow whispered, kissing Harry's feet. He was no longer in the Department of Mystery, somewhere else, he was outside, it was cold. He was in a graveyard, sitting on a cold stone chair, a throne. The shadow at his feet was no longer a shadow, it was Peter Pettigrew.
"We are many now master." Wormtail squeaked excitedly, "We are ready to attack."
"Good. We shall do it soon. October." Harry said. He hadn't thought it, he had just said it. Harry felt a peculiar shudder go through his body as he did. "There is someone here…" Harry said, "I feel… a presence." Wormtail looked confused, and Harry rose from his stone chair, looking around. There was a loud screech and a bang.
Harry woke with a jolt, his bedclothes were drenched in sweat, he must've dreamed about Sirius again, he couldn't remember. Hedwig was tapping at the closed window, Harry let her in and she hooted, and ruffled her feathers. It was dark outside, and it was raining. Harry fed Hedwig an owl treat and attached the letter to her leg.
"Sorry, no time to rest. I need you to deliver this to Moody." Hedwig looked at him puzzled, Harry knew what she meant, "I know I just sent one, but hopefully we'll be getting out of here. Now go on." Hedwig nodded and soared out of the window.
Harry was still tired, he went back to sleep.
Authors Notes
There we go, a bit shorter than the last chapter, but I got everything I wanted in there. I hope I managed to keep up the style, sorry it took so long though. I'll try and get chapter three out quicker. Again, please review if you read it, tell me what you think, and especially point out any mistakes you see, I still haven't managed to find somebody to beta-read.
I've also tried to correct some mistakes in the first chapter.
Bye for now.