Disclaimer: As has already been stated [see chapter one for specific wording], I do not, by any means, own any of the characters, background information, places, or past events present in this fic that are also in the Harry Potter books. The only thing I own from this fic is the plot. Everything else belongs to England's richest woman.

An Unexpected Visitor

"Why are you sitting there? Get up and mow the lawn! Now! I won't tell you a second time!" Aunt Petunia shrieked.

"Eh?" Harry tore his eyes away from a flower plant and looked at his aunt's furious face.

He had been daydreaming. It had been happening a lot since his return from Hogwarts. Sometimes it was about Sirius; sometimes about Ron and Hermione, but recently his daydreams had been turning to Voldemort. It was as if he had no control over his mind.

"Out! Mow! Now!" Aunt Petunia was turning red in the face, obviously angry that he had not been paying attention.

Harry sighed and trudged to the front door. He was back at the Dursley's for another dreary summer. Though it was half over, he couldn't help but think that the days until his return to Hogwarts were only growing longer; while his patience wore thin.

The Dursley's were acting as they usually did; still afraid that Sirius would come and turn them all into bats, but also afraid that the neighbors would find out about Harry and his "abnormality". So they continued to ignore him. The only occasion his Aunt and Uncle would talk to him was when they ordered him about, and Dudley stayed clear of him all of the time. It didn't matter to Harry. He preferred it this way.

As Harry looked around the room, it seemed that everything was fuzzy and blurry. It took a minute before he realized that his glasses had fallen off while he had been daydreaming. He went back to the table, picked it up, and stood still for a moment. This time he had been seeing some sort of image. It took place a long time ago; that was clear. But what was it? Harry tried to remember, but it seemed to be just a vague memory. Two people...and a phoenix. Who were they? He thought harder, but the image faded even more and soon he couldn't remember any of it at all. Finally he sighed and went outside.

The sun was blooming in the early morning sky and the flowers, which littered the garden, gave the impression of colorful confetti. Harry looked out over the lawn. The grass was growing ankle high, thanks to his neglecting to cut it, and a tall tree hovered over a very blue shed. As Harry looked around the weed-covered yard, a rushing sound came to his ears. The ground underneath his feet shook violently and the brightly lit sky faded into a midnight black. Instead of the peaceful surroundings of Privet Drive, there was terrified screaming and shouting all around him.

Harry whirled about, the color draining from his face. People stood all around him, fear evident in their expressions. Their long, unkempt hair and dirty faces hinted at an agricultural sort of life. Their clothes, tattered and torn, were certainly not of this day and age. Where was he? Harry backed into a wall. He was in a dark place, a time long ago; there was no doubt about that. But when? And where? Harry tried to think, but found that he couldn't; the fog surrounding him was too great. He felt as though he were in a vague memory that was growing hazier instead of clearer. Harry's eyes rolled back into his head and when they found their normal positions again, a new picture was laid out before him. Four people of great power stood before him, all of them crowded around a phoenix. The fog around him seemed to surge, wrapping the four figures so they could not be seen clearly. Who were they? A huge castle glinted dimly in the distance. Where were they? Harry held his breath; a shadow of immense magnitude was rushing toward the four. What was going on?

He tried to focus on the vision, but it only became harder to concentrate. Soon, the apparition melted away and he couldn't remember or see any of it. As he tried to get his thoughts oriented, agonizing screams broke out all around him. Harry's heart seemed to miss a beat and he found himself engulfed in cold fear. He tried frantically to open his eyes and when that failed he struggled to shout; wanting to call for help. It was no use—his body had stopped responding to his commands. All Harry could do was see the flickering shadows of an enormous fire against his eyelids and feel the heat of an intense glare, while pinned against an old and crumbling wall. In the midst of it all, a loud, wailing cry broke through; making the very foundations of the earth quiver. As if on cue, the sky began to lighten, the screams dimmed, and the vision faded. Once again, Harry Potter was standing in the front yard of number four, Privet Drive.

Harry sank to the ground; his legs couldn't seem to take his weight anymore. He was agitated by what he had just experienced—he couldn't seem to remember many of the details, but the fear that had gripped his heart still had not released its icy clutch. Shaking, he turned his head back to look at the Dursley's through the open window. Aunt Petunia was washing dishes and Dudley was moodily eating a grapefruit slice. Neither of them seemed to realize what had just happened. At that moment, for perhaps not the first time in his life, Harry wanted to talk to someone, anyone, about what he had just seen. What he had just fallen into. But the Dursley's wouldn't understand. They wouldn't even care.

Harry glanced around the yard hopelessly. A frivolous thought popped into his head, as frivolous thoughts tend to do in such serious situations.

The Dursley's lawn was so much different from the Weasley's. It was perhaps covered in a few unwanted weeds—the grass was obviously a little too high—but the Weasley's yard could not even be imagined. To think that the Weasley's front lawn could walk, talk, and bite—those gnomes really were a menace—was almost laughable. Personally, Harry preferred the Weasley's yard. It was messy, wild, spontaneous; it was littered with everything and not orderly in the least. The thought, as unwanted as it was, helped Harry recollect himself. With some effort, he pushed himself up and stood for a few moments to catch his breath. As his racing heart slowed down, he decided that he needed to go about as he normally did and calm down. It won't do any good to stand around and cower. Shakily, Harry went to the shed and got the lawn mower. He pushed all of his thoughts to a corner of his mind and spent the rest of the morning mowing the lawn under the hot July sun.

After finishing his chore, Harry wandered around the yard in a daze. The jumble of ideas, which he had pushed away, tumbled out of his safekeeping. What was going on? Why was this happening to him? He drifted along, unaware of his surroundings, and didn't even realize where his feet had led him until he was right in front of the Dursley's front door. Deciding that he'd let his subconscious lead him for a while, Harry let himself be guided back inside for his pathetic, meager lunch. After he finished—it didn't take long at all—he strayed back outside and over to the tree that grew in the yard.

He sat leaning against the tree. He certainly didn't want to go back inside to face the Dursley's. He wanted to forget them. To forget what had happened. Rather, he felt perfectly content just thinking about the people he cared about. Wondering if Hermione had gone to visit Krum. Or what Ron was doing at the Burrow. But most of all, Harry thought of Sirius and what he was doing. Sirius was supposed to contact the 'old crowd', on Dumbledore's order. Yes, Dumbledore. Harry wondered what complex thoughts were running through Dumbledore's mind as well. Getting tangled in his own thoughts and dreams, Harry spent the rest of the afternoon away. Noticing that the sun had set, he decided it was time to go back inside.

When he finally led himself inside, Uncle Vernon had come back from work and was having some sort of an argument with Aunt Petunia.

"No! I am not taking him with us Petunia! A vacation is supposed to be relaxing! For us! He is not going!" Uncle Vernon was shouting furiously and his face was turning a nasty shade of purple.

"Well what do you suggest Vernon? We leave him here? To come back and find the house in shambles? We cannot leave him here alone! I am not leaving him in my house, without me!" Aunt Petunia was shrieking so loudly that even Dudley took his eyes off the television set to stare at her. Dudley was the same as he ever was; big and porky, with no interest in anything that didn't involve food, bullying, or fighting. He was failing close to all of his subjects at Smeltings, and often was sent home on probation for harassing and brawling with those smaller than him.

"I don't know Petunia. I don't know. Marge won't take him, none of your friends can take him..." Uncle Vernon quieted down.

Harry sighed. They were talking about their vacation. Again. The Dursley's were taking a one-week vacation to Ireland to see Uncle Vernon's friend, and it didn't look like Harry was going to go. He didn't mind; he didn't want to go anywhere with the Dursley's, but he still didn't know where he was going to stay.

"Come now Vernon, we still have a week left to decide what to do with him. Don't stress yourself, we'll figure it out." Aunt Petunia said soothingly.

Uncle Vernon had been under a lot of stress this summer. He had been promoted to Vice President of Grunnings and, as a result, had to go through piles of papers every day on top of managing employees and other pressures that came with the position. He had managed to get a week off, in which the Dursley's were going to Ireland. He was strained, and the stress was causing his temper to rise in such a way that he had started to argue with even Aunt Petunia on a daily basis.

"I guess you're right dear. I just lost my temper for a moment. What's for dinner?" Uncle Vernon apologized to Aunt Petunia. They walked away to the kitchen, quietly discussing something or another.

Harry shook his head a little and went upstairs to his room. His papers and quills littered his desk, and his robes and other magic supplies were trailed all around. Stepping carefully over his cauldron, Harry went to his window and looked out. The sky was an enchanting dark blue and the stars were shining brightly against it.

"It's almost like that night." Harry whispered softly. He was referring to the night of the final Triwizard task...the night Voldemort regained his power. When he went into the maze, he never knew how it would affect him. Never imagined what would happen.

As Harry looked out into the sky, the events from the Triwizard Tournament and all the year flashed through his head. The corner of his eyes started to burn and his throat was becoming too tight and sticky for comfort. Quickly, in order to suppress himself from crying, he turned his head to a dark object that was flying towards his window and concentrated on it. The dark object flew with an increasing speed and came and landed on Harry's outstretched arm.

"Hullo Hedwig," Harry greeted as he stroked her velvety feathers.

Hedwig pecked Harry's finger affectionately and stretched out her leg so that He could relieve her of her burden. Harry quickly untied the package she was carrying, and a letter, which was hidden underneath the parcel, fell into his lap. As Hedwig flew to her cage to get a drink, Harry stared at the letter that had fallen into his lap. It was addressed from Professor Lupin.

Harry tore the envelope open and read the letter:

Dear Harry,

We hope that this letter finds you safe and sound at your Aunt and Uncle's house. Padfoot has come to my house on the order of Professor Dumbledore, as you should know. He is still waiting to hear from Dumbledore. Padfoot recounted to me everything that had happened that night in the maze. Everything that you explained, including the behavior of Fudge. I was shocked to hear about his disrespect to your story, but not at all surprised of his actions. Fudge has always been a narrow sighted man. I have a theory about him, but I won't tell you just yet, in case you decide to go and investigate for yourself. Harry, now that the Dark Lord has come back, you must not do any sort of meddling. Keep yourself out of trouble. It's only a matter of time before Lord Voldemort tries to capture you or pull another stunt like the Triwizard Tournament—even though Dumbledore is sworn to prevent that. I may sound overbearing, but we are all just trying to protect you. None of us want anything to happen to you. Do not under any circumstances leave your relatives!

Moony's writing ended there, but the letter went on. Harry recognized the handwriting, for the rest of the letter, as Sirius's.

Harry, I hope you are well. Hermione wrote me a letter, telling me all about that dratted Skeeter woman. Serves her right, the old bat. Now to be serious; listen to Moony, Harry. Do not wander around and do not try to escape from the Dursley's. It will only be a danger to you, even if it relieves you of them. We also have a bit of news. We think we have found out something about you, something that we think may explain all that has happened to you. Dumbledore won't tell us anything about it—we've tried to wheedle hints out of him—but that only makes us more suspicious. You really are amazing, Harry. You truly are. We must go now. Whenever you need anything, just send us an owl. Hedwig knows where to find us, and we are always here to help. Take care of yourself and we hope to see you sometime soon.

Padfoot and Moony

Harry stood silent, re-reading the letter, as a cool breeze washed in from the window.

"Don't run away from the Dursley's," he muttered. "Who are they to tell me what to do?" Harry furiously eyed the sentence.

"But they care for you. They only want to protect you."

Harry jumped, the sudden voice giving him quite a fright. Whirling around, at first he couldn't anything. Slowly his eyes met two bright gleams in the semi-darkness. The shape stepped into view. It was a cat.

"Who...are you?" Harry spluttered.

"A good question, that is. Who am I? But then, who is anyone? What is anyone? Must we always be humans? We may come in other shapes you know." The cat twitched its tail and looked amusedly at Harry's puzzled expression.

"You may call me Ara, if you must," the cat said.

"Ara. Er...nice to meet you." said Harry, at a complete loss of words. Harry looked at the cat's features closely. She seemed to be old. Quite old. She had grayish fur that was streaked with a light black color and a soft, old voice that sounded oddly familiar.

"Likewise, Harry Potter. Oh do not be so nervous, dear. Every one of us knows who you are. I'd have thought you'd be used to it by now." Ara sprang up lightly onto Harry's bed and sat down.

"I'm sorry. I've just never met an animal that's talked to me before," Harry apologized.

"Not truly. You can talk to snakes, if I'm not mistaken. And haven't you talked to acromantulas and centaurs before? Yes I know all about you and your unique powers." The cat looked sternly at Harry's blank face.

Harry continued staring down perplexedly at Ara.

"I am here to help you, Mr. Potter. Do not seem so shocked; you know me. You know me very well, just as I know you. The times we've met, however, you haven't seemed to take to me much. We'll see if we cannot change that this time around."

Harry shifted nervously on his bed and was distracted when his arm touched the package Hedwig had brought with the letter.

"I forgot about this," Harry muttered to himself. He slowly opened the package and a picture frame fell onto his lap.

It was a moving picture of Sirius, Professor Lupin, and his mom and dad. They were very young—laughing and carefree as they waved to him within the picture. Harry recognized the background as the Gryffindor common room. Gaping at the picture, Harry turned the frame over and read a little note on the back.

Happy Birthday, Harry. Your parents would have been proud. -Padfoot & Moony

"My...birthday. It's tomorrow isn't it? I had almost forgotten," he whispered softly.

"Yes. Your fifteenth birthday. How special this birthday is, you don't know...and maybe won't know for some time yet. Happy Birthday my dear boy, you will be in for a surprise tomorrow. I can assure you," Ara's eyes twinkled and she hopped out the open window onto a treelimb, as stealthily as she came.

Harry was left alone, quietly looking at the picture frame in his hand.

... ...

The next morning when Harry went down to breakfast his aunt and uncle were yelling at each other again.

"I don't know Vernon! What do you suggest?" Aunt Petunia was shrieking loudly.

"Well, we don't want him to come with us. But who will take care of the dratted boy while we're away? You know I do not want him along. We have gone over this enough times! " Uncle Vernon bellowed.

"Vernon-," Aunt Petunia started angrily. Suddenly she stopped. It was as if a thought had suddenly dawned upon her. Slowly she looked out the window, "Mrs. Figg might be able to..."

"No!" gasped Harry. Harry had managed to avoid seeing pictures of "Muffin", "Mr. Paws", and "Tufty" for nearly four years now. He didn't want to lose his winning streak now.

Uncle Vernon glared at Harry. "It's bad enough, boy, that my vacation has been moved up and we must leave by tomorrow. But now you think you can invade the only part of the summer we have away from you? And don't you dare interrupt!"

Harry looked at his aunt and uncle.

"I could ask my friend Ron if I could stay over at his house, I'm sure the Weasley's wouldn't mind," Harry put up timidly. He was in no mood to be yelled at.

His aunt and uncle looked at him loathingly. Uncle Vernon was just about to say something when the doorbell rang. With a fierce look at Harry, he smoothed his mustache and went to answer the door. It was old Mrs. Figg. Harry privately groaned.

"Hello dear. I was wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar," she said in a soft, old voice.

Harry choked on his milk. Looking up, he stared at her. She sounded just like-

"Oh yes Mrs. Figg. Right this way," Aunt Petunia ushered Mrs. Figg into the kitchen. Just as the two went in a sharp knock came from the door. Uncle Vernon went and opened the door and found himself face-to-face with a tall old man with a long white beard. He had amazing blue eyes, which twinkled behind half moon spectacles that dangled on a long crooked nose. He was wearing a long purple robe and spoke softly and quickly.

"Good day, Mr. Dursley. If chance may allow it, may I please speak with Harry Potter?" said the elderly man with an odd smile

Harry walked to the door upon hearing his name, and his mouth fell open. For a moment he thought he had lost his mind.

"Professor Dumbledore?" he exclaimed.

"Ah! Good morning Harry! Surprised to see me, I take it? Yes, it's not everyday you find your headmaster paying you a visit now is it? Although, come to think of it, that does remind me of an amusing story..." Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his spectacles.

Uncle Vernon was struck dumb and Aunt Petunia gasped as she and Mrs. Figg walked to the doorway with a cup of sugar. Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence and smiled at the newcomers:

"Ahhh, I see you've already arrived here, Arabella. Excellent! Now then, perhaps you ought to explain to Harry what exactly is going on. He doesn't look very informed, nor very attractive with his mouth open like that," Professor Dumbledore smiled mischievously at Mrs. Figg.

"A-Arabella? As in the one Sirius was sent to notify over the summer?" Harry closed his mouth quickly, and looked anxiously at Mrs. Figg.

"Yes, Harry dear, I am Arabella Figg. And no, I am not a muggle," Mrs. Figg smiled at him. "I have come here to relieve you of your relations and your relations of you for the time being. I know I have not been the best of caretakers before, but it was all for your own safety and well being. Now, I gave you a proposition last night, and have given you time to think over it. So, would you--"

"Last night? You mean you're Ara?" Harry looked positively perplexed.

"Yes, I am an animagus, in the form of a cat. I am not an old lady who feeds stale cake, in true form," Arabella said while whisking out her wand.

"Now, now Arabella. No need to get excited. I am under the impression that the ministry has some silly rule about no magic in front of muggles," Dumbledore said chuckling. "Even if the muggles are quite aware of magic and our world."

Upon hearing the word 'muggles', Uncle Vernon snapped out of his trance.

"Now listen here, the two of you! I don't know what it is you're playing at, but I want you two out of my house! This instant!"

Professor Dumbledore turned to stare at him. Dumbledore gave him a piercing look. He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly; his lips twitched as if to suppress a smile.

"You are Harry's uncle? Vernon Dursley? And I suppose that is Petunia Evans, sister to Lily Evans, Harry's mother?"

At the mention of her sister's name and her own maiden name Petunia burst out in anger.

"Who do you think you are? I want you out of my house this instant!" she screeched loudly. Her eyes bugging out, she turned to Mrs. Figg. "And you! You're one of them aren't you? All these years we've trusted you with the boy! You've been helping him haven't you? And you, boy! You good-for-nothing lowly creature! How dare you! All we've done for you and this is how you repay us! You ought to be sent away! You should be imprisoned! You need to be-"

"Arabella, please calm Mrs. Dursley down while I have a word with Harry and his uncle," Dumbledore calmly said to Mrs. Figg. As she hurried Petunia to the kitchen, Dumbledore turned to Harry and Uncle Vernon.

"Mr. Dursley, I know what your opinion of our kind is, and I know just as well what you'd rather have me do. Or rather, where you'd have me go to or be,' at this Dumbledore paused...and the same odd smile impressed upon his face. Harry suspected Dumbledore was quite enjoying himself at this moment.

'Right now, however, I fear you must place aside these feelings. We have more important issues at hand," Dumbledore spoke sharply, the smile slowly fading; Uncle Vernon stayed silent.

"As you know, Lily Evans and James Potter, your sister-in-law and her husband, were murdered by a dark wizard many years ago. Please let me finish, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said sharply as Uncle Vernon started to interrupt. "I know you and your family do not like any signs, hints, or mention of magic or the abnormal. I am well aware of this. However, it is with the utmost regret that I must now tell you what is going on... for as much as you hate magic, you are to be just as affected by this as us. The dark wizard that caused so many murders years ago was named Lord Voldemort. He took pride in killing people, magical or no, and he did not stop for anyone.'

'I had told you exactly what happened in the letter fourteen years ago, but I will refresh your memory. And perhaps this time, you will understand the complexity and bravery of it, better." said Dumbledore. Uncle Vernon seemed to be chewing his tongue.

"Fourteen years ago, on Halloween night, Lord Voldemort showed up at your sister- in-laws and killed her and her husband. He turned on Harry and tried to kill him with a curse. For some reason, however, the curse did not work. Harry survived the encounter, and the Dark Lord's powers were stripped from him. He was but a shadow, no more. That was fourteen years ago," Dumbledore stopped to collect his breath.

"Yes...I know all of this. I do not know why I must hear this again," growled Uncle Vernon.

"I am sorry you must hear this Mr. Dursley, but I must warn you. For as long as Harry is anywhere near the vicinity of you, as long as his name and your names are mentioned together, you and your family are in grave danger. At the end of Harry's term last year, Harry had his fourth encounter with the Dark Lord. Harry managed to survive, but a dark cloud hangs over all of us. For the Dark Lord, with the help of his servant, has returned. And now, not only witches and wizards, but all of you non-magic people are in danger as well. The only way to defeat the Dark Lord is through Harry. And for this we must keep him well protected. For the good of our world...and yours," Dumbledore finished softly.

There was silence from all around the room. Dudley was standing beside his mum, clutching his bottom in fear of the wizard, Aunt Petunia was standing in the hallway staring at Professor Dumbledore, and Uncle Vernon was glaring furiously at him. However, Harry...Harry was just standing. Leaning against the wall, lost in thoughts.

"We...we know this may be hard to take. And I suppose it is completely up to your family if you would like to keep Harry next year or not...but think about it. He doesn't like you any better than you like him, yet he has nowhere else to go. He never got to know his parents...and now. Now, he'll be in danger wherever he is. You may not like him, and you may not want to risk yourselves for a 'good-for-nothing boy', but he is your nephew. I do not believe you are completely void of feelings for this boy, Petunia. Or in the very least, empty of feelings for your sister. That is the only reason I can think of... that's why you didn't just send Harry to an orphanage.'

'Harry is the safest with you; there is a protection with his family that he cannot get elsewhere. We need to protect him. If we don't, then your world will fall apart too; Lord Voldemort stops at no one. If he were to rule, there would be no muggles left. Just remember that." Arabella Figg said softly and gently steered Harry out of the door to her house.

... ...