Chapter 3: The End of Azkaban
In the next few weeks, Moody's eye continued to appear in many unexpected places, and Dudley was beginning to lose sleep because of it. He spent most of the night sitting in his bed, a flashlight in one hand and a tennis racket in the other, jumping every time the house creaked, and swinging crazily with the racket.
As for the waking hours, the Dursleys started hollering at least twice a day. Moody's eye showed up in Dudley's glass of orange juice, on top of the television, resting on the computer keyboard, settled in Vernon's pajama drawer, arriving with the mail, in place of one of the eggs in the new carton, inside Vernon's briefcase, and it could always be counted on to show up floating somewhere.
While all three of the Dursleys spotted Moody's eye, Harry hadn't seen it once. This annoyed him to no great end, because he wanted more clues as to who it could be. With this additional mystery added to his list of things to worry about, Harry found that it took him forever to fall asleep at night. The lack of rest put him in a grumpy mood during the days. It was a lucky thing that the Dursleys weren't speaking to him; otherwise Harry was sure he'd have been punished severely for his cheek.
The only thing keeping Harry from intentionally starting a confrontation with his relatives was the fact that August 1st seemed just around the corner, and Harry was sure that once he was out of the house, he wouldn't have to return for the rest of the summer.
As it was, something happened to put the first of August out of Harry's mind. Shortly after his sixteenth birthday, (during which he'd received a welcome supply of gifts, cards, and sweets), Harry received a rather surprising edition of the Daily Prophet. The arrival of the paper itself wasn't the surprise, since he'd been subscribing since the Ministry had announced the return of the Dark Lord, but rather, the contents were what sparked Harry's interest.
Staring out at him was a horrifying picture of a Dementor, with the title flashing above it:
AZKABAN ABANDONED!
Harry quickly read the first bit of the article:
Yesterday evening was an astonishing moment for ministry officials everywhere when they received word that the Azkaban prison had been emptied. The dementors that usually guard the prisoners had left, leaving the hardened criminals to escape. The departed dementors are rumored to have joined the services of You-Know-Who, although this cannot be held as fact. The real shock is the realization that all of Azkaban's prisoners have vanished. Azkaban has traditionally been the place where murderers and other Dark Wizards have been kept. At the time of jail-break, approximately one dozen Death Eaters had been in captivity, placed there last spring by Albus Dumbledore. These Death Eaters are now loose and have most likely returned to their master...
Harry finished the article in mild surprise. He'd known that the dementors would eventually leave Azkaban, but he hadn't realized about the great number of prisoners that would escape. Not only were the known Death Eaters loose, but other murderers were out there. What was to keep them from joining Voldemort, given that they were outlaws in their country and obviously didn't mind the killing?
"Well, at least this explains my scar acting up last night." Harry reflected upon the burning he'd experienced during the night. Putting the paper aside, he began putting on his shoes. Just like the summer before, Harry had walked around the town almost every day. The solitude and quiet gave him time to think about his life, and Harry was slowly coming to terms with the prophecy. He'd gone from being scared to being grimly determined to find a way to rid the world of Voldemort forever.
In fact, Harry had started studying his course books in earnest. He'd quickly completed the required assignments for the summer, and had moved onto his other books. He listened to Moody's advice and studied up on Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was the most logical, after all, if one was trying to defeat a dark wizard. But after spending the day studying, Harry needed to escape out on his walks.
Then, a few days after the news about Azkaban, Harry began to notice things on his walks. Strangers that he'd never noticed in his town before began to watch him. He never actually caught them staring at him, but he felt their eyes on him as he walked past. It bothered him that all these strangers had showed up within the same few days. They looked like ordinary people, but Harry couldn't help but feel like glancing over his shoulder to be sure they weren't about to curse him.
Part of him felt stupid for being bothered by these people. They looked like normal muggles. A man struggling over a garden. An old woman pushing her cane up a neighbors walk. A young boy skateboarding down Privet Drive. Normal people- ones that Vernon and Petunia would accept! But as new people showed up each night, Harry began to become more aware of their activity, instead of enjoying his walks.
One night in particular, Harry felt like the world was plotting against him. It seemed that ever stranger he'd ever suspected in the past had shown up along his walk. The gardener, the skateboarder, the old woman, they all went about their duties while Harry glanced about suspiciously. He hadn't even gotten to the park when the nagging feeling took over his mind. Sighing, Harry turned back and started toward 4 Privet Drive.
Climbing up his stairs, Harry felt an overwhelming apprehension in his gut. He burst into his room and was mildly surprised to see that everything was in order. Nothing was moved from where Harry had left it. Nothing suspicious peeked out from the corners. The only activity in the room was Hedwig ghosting in through the window.
Feeling like a paranoid idiot, Harry calmly closed his door, determined to get over the nervous feeling. 'Perhaps I'll just turn in for the night.' he thought.
Harry flopped down onto his bed. He felt Hedwig land on his stomach and he reached for her. He was surprised when she stuck her foot into his face. Harry quickly pulled off the tiny scroll of parchment. As he unrolled it, Hedwig began to peck at him, flapping around his head in a frenzied manner.
"Calm down Hedwig! Let me read it!" Harry glanced down at the parchment. Written hurriedly, the message caused Harry's stomach to drop.
'Harry, pack your belongings immediately! He's found a way around your protection at the Dursleys. Were coming as fast as we can. –A. Dumbledore'
But the warning came too late. A huge blast echoed through the house, and Harry heard the sound of glass breaking downstairs. Shakily, he pulled out his wand as his aunt and uncle started screaming.
In the next few weeks, Moody's eye continued to appear in many unexpected places, and Dudley was beginning to lose sleep because of it. He spent most of the night sitting in his bed, a flashlight in one hand and a tennis racket in the other, jumping every time the house creaked, and swinging crazily with the racket.
As for the waking hours, the Dursleys started hollering at least twice a day. Moody's eye showed up in Dudley's glass of orange juice, on top of the television, resting on the computer keyboard, settled in Vernon's pajama drawer, arriving with the mail, in place of one of the eggs in the new carton, inside Vernon's briefcase, and it could always be counted on to show up floating somewhere.
While all three of the Dursleys spotted Moody's eye, Harry hadn't seen it once. This annoyed him to no great end, because he wanted more clues as to who it could be. With this additional mystery added to his list of things to worry about, Harry found that it took him forever to fall asleep at night. The lack of rest put him in a grumpy mood during the days. It was a lucky thing that the Dursleys weren't speaking to him; otherwise Harry was sure he'd have been punished severely for his cheek.
The only thing keeping Harry from intentionally starting a confrontation with his relatives was the fact that August 1st seemed just around the corner, and Harry was sure that once he was out of the house, he wouldn't have to return for the rest of the summer.
As it was, something happened to put the first of August out of Harry's mind. Shortly after his sixteenth birthday, (during which he'd received a welcome supply of gifts, cards, and sweets), Harry received a rather surprising edition of the Daily Prophet. The arrival of the paper itself wasn't the surprise, since he'd been subscribing since the Ministry had announced the return of the Dark Lord, but rather, the contents were what sparked Harry's interest.
Staring out at him was a horrifying picture of a Dementor, with the title flashing above it:
AZKABAN ABANDONED!
Harry quickly read the first bit of the article:
Yesterday evening was an astonishing moment for ministry officials everywhere when they received word that the Azkaban prison had been emptied. The dementors that usually guard the prisoners had left, leaving the hardened criminals to escape. The departed dementors are rumored to have joined the services of You-Know-Who, although this cannot be held as fact. The real shock is the realization that all of Azkaban's prisoners have vanished. Azkaban has traditionally been the place where murderers and other Dark Wizards have been kept. At the time of jail-break, approximately one dozen Death Eaters had been in captivity, placed there last spring by Albus Dumbledore. These Death Eaters are now loose and have most likely returned to their master...
Harry finished the article in mild surprise. He'd known that the dementors would eventually leave Azkaban, but he hadn't realized about the great number of prisoners that would escape. Not only were the known Death Eaters loose, but other murderers were out there. What was to keep them from joining Voldemort, given that they were outlaws in their country and obviously didn't mind the killing?
"Well, at least this explains my scar acting up last night." Harry reflected upon the burning he'd experienced during the night. Putting the paper aside, he began putting on his shoes. Just like the summer before, Harry had walked around the town almost every day. The solitude and quiet gave him time to think about his life, and Harry was slowly coming to terms with the prophecy. He'd gone from being scared to being grimly determined to find a way to rid the world of Voldemort forever.
In fact, Harry had started studying his course books in earnest. He'd quickly completed the required assignments for the summer, and had moved onto his other books. He listened to Moody's advice and studied up on Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was the most logical, after all, if one was trying to defeat a dark wizard. But after spending the day studying, Harry needed to escape out on his walks.
Then, a few days after the news about Azkaban, Harry began to notice things on his walks. Strangers that he'd never noticed in his town before began to watch him. He never actually caught them staring at him, but he felt their eyes on him as he walked past. It bothered him that all these strangers had showed up within the same few days. They looked like ordinary people, but Harry couldn't help but feel like glancing over his shoulder to be sure they weren't about to curse him.
Part of him felt stupid for being bothered by these people. They looked like normal muggles. A man struggling over a garden. An old woman pushing her cane up a neighbors walk. A young boy skateboarding down Privet Drive. Normal people- ones that Vernon and Petunia would accept! But as new people showed up each night, Harry began to become more aware of their activity, instead of enjoying his walks.
One night in particular, Harry felt like the world was plotting against him. It seemed that ever stranger he'd ever suspected in the past had shown up along his walk. The gardener, the skateboarder, the old woman, they all went about their duties while Harry glanced about suspiciously. He hadn't even gotten to the park when the nagging feeling took over his mind. Sighing, Harry turned back and started toward 4 Privet Drive.
Climbing up his stairs, Harry felt an overwhelming apprehension in his gut. He burst into his room and was mildly surprised to see that everything was in order. Nothing was moved from where Harry had left it. Nothing suspicious peeked out from the corners. The only activity in the room was Hedwig ghosting in through the window.
Feeling like a paranoid idiot, Harry calmly closed his door, determined to get over the nervous feeling. 'Perhaps I'll just turn in for the night.' he thought.
Harry flopped down onto his bed. He felt Hedwig land on his stomach and he reached for her. He was surprised when she stuck her foot into his face. Harry quickly pulled off the tiny scroll of parchment. As he unrolled it, Hedwig began to peck at him, flapping around his head in a frenzied manner.
"Calm down Hedwig! Let me read it!" Harry glanced down at the parchment. Written hurriedly, the message caused Harry's stomach to drop.
'Harry, pack your belongings immediately! He's found a way around your protection at the Dursleys. Were coming as fast as we can. –A. Dumbledore'
But the warning came too late. A huge blast echoed through the house, and Harry heard the sound of glass breaking downstairs. Shakily, he pulled out his wand as his aunt and uncle started screaming.