The Fifth House

Disclaimer: Maybe I need to refresh your memories, since the holiday season puts us all in a tizzy {I love the word tizzy}, I'll do the favor of reminding you.  I do not own Harry Potter. I never will own Harry Potter.  Five Minutes from now, Harry Potter will most likely still be J. K. Rowling's.  It's the way things should be.

But, I really wish it were different.

Author's Note: I'm baaaack! Is that rejoicing I hear? Ah, I thought so!  Happy Holidays everyone! Merry Christmas!  Happy Hanukah {is that spelled right?}!  Happy Kwanzaa!  I got like, 15 reviewers.  I'm overjoyed!  Really! I mean it! Aaahhh, the power of cheese.  Please pardon my randomness; I'm rather hyper, so this should be quite a chapter.

I said, no, typed, the word "quite''.

I never say that word.

I am becoming a dictionary.

Anyway, please review after, because you love me.  I had to read my whole story before writing this because I forgot what was happening.  It was as if I didn't know that some evil cloud was trying to break into Harry's bedroom.

Curtains Up!

Chapter Four

            "Who said that?" said Harry, looking wildly around the room.

            If there was one thing Harry learned that day, it was that you don't turn around when a cloud is slamming against your window. 

But this was a special case.

            Harry had heard a voice say, "We're here".  He knew it.  He hadn't imagined it, Harry was certain that's someone-something said that. 

But this was not the time for pondering even the most mysterious questions.

            Harry was raking his brain, trying to think of an explanation.  As far as he knew, even in the Wizarding World, it was not normal when a cloud is after you.          The cloud was turning again.  It sped toward the east horizon again, then turned and started to fly back to Harry's window. 

"Here we go again", Harry muttered, bracing himself.

            But the cloud stopped.

            Suddenly it stopped.  Ten feet from the glass window.  It was levitating in midair.  Harry could see it clearly now.  He could see just what it was that was trying to attack him.

But what it was was the exact the question Harry was trying to answer.

            It seemed, for the most part, to be a dark, damp mist.  But there was more.  It seemed to be extra concentrated in the center, like it had a core.  Harry could almost feel a slight sense of power through the glass.  He didn't want to know what could have happened if the cloud hadn't stopped.

Well, Harry Potter was going to experience just that.

            As soon as the cloud had stopped, it picked up force again.  It was going away from the window, very quickly.  As soon as it was very far, Harry stopped leaning against the glass and turned back to his bed.

Harry Potter didn't see the cloud turn back towards the window and pick up speed.

Harry Potter didn't know what was coming.

            Harry heard a faint buzzing sound, like when his Firebolt had been coming towards him last year during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.  He started to turn his head, but the cloud was already at his window. 

            The glass smashed open and hit Harry.  The force of the wind knocked him to his knees, he had to hold his head down to keep his face from getting wind burned.  He was in that position all while glass was flying towards him, pelting him with bits of it.  The wind had almost pushed him against his wall.  Gradually, the wind died down, and Harry opened his eyes and slowly brought his head up.

            The light that filled the room practically blinded him.  He felt a warm breeze, almost like that happening he had at the park. 

" Turn around, Harry.  It's okay, we would never hurt you," a woman's gentle voice said.

            Harry found himself disbelieving, he knew that voice.  It had been fourteen years, but it was one thing he could never forget the sound of.

"Mum," Harry whispered.

            He spun around quickly, facing the full light.  In a faded picture in the center of a cloud of luminous swirling mist were his mother and father.

" It's been a while, Harry," his father said, smiling.

" But, how, what, when, how…?" Harry started.

" Harry, we haven't much time.  We'd love to talk, but right now you must listen," his mother said, a look of seriousness on her face.  She continued.

            " You may have already heard, but an Evil is at Hogwarts.  This is something that is near impossible to prevent or block.  I'm not even sure if Dumbledore knows the one way to stop it.  Even love, the most powerful counteraction for evil, cannot deflect it.  You must be prepared.  We heard that you've been invited to the Weasley's for the rest of the summer.  You must go.  We knew we won't have to persuade you to go there, but my sister's family will be slightly harder."

            Lily Potter's voice started to fade away. But Harry could still hear one last verse she was repeating.

" You must be prepared…you must be prepared…"

"No, don't go…" Harry said.

But the pictures of his parents and their voices were fading away.

*          *          *          *

            Harry fell onto his bed, breathing hard.  His hair was tosseled, his heart pounding.  He had gotten what he'd wanted most in his life, and it only lasted for five minutes. 

            Thinking about the information his parents had told him, he realized it was nothing that P.1 Rebirth hadn't said before.  But still, it was his mother that had said it…

Just then he was interrupted by Aunt Petunia barging into the room.

"I told you to do the chores.  An hour ago.  Think about it, boy, we have raised you since you were one, and this is the kind of respect we get?"

This was the kind of respect they deserved.

            Still, Harry didn't like to mess with Aunt Petunia when she was mad.  And he had to butter her and his uncle up somehow if he wanted to go to Ron's.

            So Harry went to work.  He did the dishes, replanted all of the rose bushes in new soil, pruned the hedges, swept the floors, re-organized Mrs. Dursley's fine china in alphabetical order by designer, and did several loads of laundry.  He was feeling pretty sure of himself as he poured glasses of wine to take out to his aunt and uncle on the patio.

            "So, I was wondering," Harry started to say.

" A boy like you can cause problems when he's wondering.  Stop that right now!" said Uncle Vernon.

" Okay, well, I was thinking, well, I got invited to go to Ron Weasley's house for the summer, you know the Weasleys, the nice big family with all red hair?" Harry asked.

Uncle Vernon grunted a yes.  Apparently, Dursleys like himself couldn't sink their reputations by saying they "know" people like the Weasleys.

" So, can I go?" Harry asked.

Harry saw His uncle give Aunt Petunia a look.  A look that said all over it, 'Well, it would do us good to get rid of the brat, and we certainly don't want to mix with that godfather of his, but what if the boy starts thinking we like him?'

" Well, fine then.  But it's only because I'm trying to protect my family from that godfather you've got."

" Thanks," Harry replied.  Only he knew it was pointless, saying thanks to people like the Dursleys.

Harry ran through the house up the stairs to his room.  He pushed around piles of paper, searching for a scrap of parchment and a quill.  Finally he found what he was looking for.  He sat on the bed and screwed open the bottle of ink.

He started his letter,

                                                                                                Dear Ron,

            Hey. What's up? Nothing much here.  The muggles say I can come to your house! The only thing is, you never said when, and I realized, well, we really don't need another incident like last summer.  The Dursley's weren't very pleased with Dudley's four-foot tongue.

            So if you could write back soon. It'd be great, because I can't wait to see you and your family and get out of this torture chamber.  Write back soon!

                                                                                    Your friend,

                                                                                                Harry

            Harry strapped the tiny parchment to Pigwidgeon's leg.  It was very difficult, especially since Pig's little legs were kicking every which way.

            After all that trouble was over, Harry walked over to his window, to find that it had already been thrown open.  Harry was very puzzled.

"Hi Harry, long time no see!" said a familiar voice that was coming from the street below.

            Harry grinned as he looked down through the window at the pavement, where he saw the familiar faces of all nine Weasleys, standing in front of a muggle car. 

Curtains Close!

Author's Note: That was pretty long, but hey, I said it would be.  That chapter had a lot going on.  But the next chapter should be more interesting, it's in a different setting: The Burrow.

Words of Wisdom:  Hope for the best, but expect the worst.

I don't get that saying too much.  But I was in need in a Words of Wisdom quote, and I wasn't going to bail on you guys and just not write one.  That would be wrong.

Because I saved you from this trauma, do me a favor and review?

Thanx for the reviews!

I love you all!

Ciao!

~Starry