Chapter 3: Returning to Order

So Snape had only passed him because he didn't want Harry to get mad and tell someone about the Pensieve. Harry was confused about how he felt. He didn't know whether to feel relieved that he had passed or angry that he had not really earned the grade. Then he wondered what Hermione would say if she knew, and made a mental note to never tell her.

Then a horrible thought hit him. He was going to be the worst in his class because he wasn't really supposed to be in it. He might as well tell Ron and Hermione about the Pensieve. He was going to be kicked out of N.E.W.T Potions anyway. But he would either be kicked out by an angry Snape (always a frightening thought), if he told about the Pensieve, or a happy Snape (if Snape was ever happy it was usually because someone else was miserable, namely, Harry), if he failed the class.

"But, wait," Harry said slowly. "Snape didn't examine me, Marchbanks did!"

He looked at Hedwig, who stared blankly back, then looked back at his O.W.L. result.

Did Hogwarts professors have input on the exam grades? Harry felt completely lost. He looked all around his room, as though the answer to his question was going to be hiding in the corners.

Harry jumped as his eyes fell on the clock. It was nearly four in the morning.

He yawned and shoved all his mail off the bed and onto the floor, thinking he might as well get some sleep.

×××××

Harry woke and sat bolt upright. Someone downstairs had screamed.

"Vernon! Vernon!"

Harry slid out of bed as he heard Uncle Vernon pounding down the hall. Once he was sure his uncle was downstairs, he opened the door and slipped out.

"VERNON!" Aunt Petunia screamed again.

"I'm right here, Petunia, stop yelling!"

Harry stopped just outside the kitchen door, where his aunt and uncle were, so he could hear what was going on inside.

"OWLS!" Uncle Vernon roared. "MORE OWLS! GET-IN-HERE-RIGHT-NOW-BOY!"

Harry waited a few moments so it would appear that he had come from upstairs. Then he stepped calmly into the kitchen.

"You rang?" He asked casually.

It seemed that words were not enough to express Uncle Vernon's rage. He pointed to the window, where an owl was just flying out.

"Yes, that's an owl," said Harry gently, as if he was explaining to a two-year-old.

"DON'T YOU DARE ACT SMART WITH ME YOU LITTLE-"

"Vernon, no-" Aunt Petunia was cut off by Dudley, who wandered in, looking confused by the noise, and asking stupidly:

"What's for breakfast?"

Harry rolled his eyes and began scanning the kitchen with his eyes to see where the letter that the owl had undoubtedly brought was.

"Y-yes, breakfast!" cried Aunt Petunia. "What would you like, Harry, dear?"

Harry was struck dumb for a moment, and it seemed that his uncle and cousin were, too.

"Petunia, are-are you-quite all right?"

Harry noticed that a letter was clutched in Aunt Petunia's hand. This must be why she was acting so oddly, Harry guessed.

"I'd like to read that letter," he said matter-of-factly.

"OH, no you don't!" shouted Uncle Vernon. "It's not yours, otherwise it would have come to your room, stupid boy!"

Harry was surprised that Uncle Vernon had thought of this little detail, he had never been extremely smart.

"Oh, Vernon, don't be so hard on him, he was up all night, I heard him, poor thing," said Aunt Petunia, setting down Harry's unusually large breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast.

"Would someone mind telling me what's going on?" Harry asked furiously.

"Yeah, me, too, mum, tell me!" whined Dudley.

"Shut up Duddykins, or I'm going to curse you!"

"NO YOU WON'T! YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED! MUUUUMMMM!"

Harry turned around. Aunt Petunia hadn't answered Dudley's call like she usually did. In fact, she was busy urging Harry to eat, while sitting faintly in the chair opposite him. Uncle Vernon was reading the letter, looking horror-struck. He pointed to Harry, then to the hall, then stomped off to the living room. Harry followed. Once they got into the living room, he rounded on Harry.

"What-did-you-tell-them-boy?" he said in a lethal whisper, putting his purple-and-red face very close to Harry's.

"If you let me read that letter I might know what you're talking about!"

Uncle Vernon snorted and thrust the letter under Harry's nose. Harry took it and read:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

I am just writing to let you know ahead of time that we will be coming on the date of August 1 to collect Harry from your house. Please have him ready and packed by ten o'clock that morning.

-Remus Lupin

"WELL?"

"I'll go get packed, then-"

"YOU MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT! WHY DID YOU DO IT, EH?"

"DO WHAT?" Harry's temper was quickly beginning to match Uncle Vernon's.

"TELL THEM TO COME HERE! TELL THEM THAT PETUNIA AND I WERE GIVING YOU A HARD TIME!"

"WHO SAID I TOLD THEM ANYTHING?"

Uncle Vernon took a few deep breaths, as though to make sure his head didn't explode, as it looked in danger of doing so.

"You mean to say that you didn't ask these-these-people to come get you?"

"Nope."

"Then why are they coming?"

"No idea."

This, of course, was a lie. Harry guessed that Lupin and the others from the Order were coming to take him back to headquarters. Harry watched calmly as Uncle Vernon looked at the clock. All of the angry color was draining from his face, until he was very white. Harry glanced at the time as well. 9:56.

"W-will they...be...arriving-quietly? No...loud noises...or...or..." he said the next word so quietly that Harry wasn't even sure if Uncle Vernon had made a noise. But he knew what it was. "magic?"

"Don't think so...magic, maybe, yeah, but they won't make a huge show out of it, we don't want to be discovered, do we now?"

And feeling happier than he had all summer, including after getting his O.W.L. results, Harry bounded up to his room to gather all his things.

Just as he put the last of his books in his trunk, collected his broomstick, and made sure Hedwig was ready for travel, he heard a low rumble of voices below him.

He hurried down to the kitchen, where he found a large amount of people waiting for him, the Dursleys crammed into a corner, trying to stay as far away from the wizarding folk now crowding their kitchen.

"Hello, Harry, how are you?" Professor Lupin came forward to greet him. Harry noticed that he looked even older and shabbier than the last time they had met, possibly because he had lost the last remaining of his best friends: Sirius.

"Hey, Professor Lupin," said Harry.

"All right there, Potter?" Alastor Moody was standing off to the side of the door, wearing his traveling cloak, as usual, but neglecting the use of his bowler hat to cover his magical eye.

"Yeah, I'm...as good as I'm going to get right now."

Lupin and Moody smiled sympathetically.

"Need help with your stuff, Harry?" Nymphadora Tonks came forward, looking just like she had when Harry has last seen her, except for the fact that her hair was now in golden spikes.

"Yeah, sure, Tonks, thanks."

"Be quick, we don't have too much time, Harry. I need to get back to the Ministry." Kingsley Shacklebolt was in the back of the group.

"An' I got to get somewhere...very good business offer, you know."

"You're not going anywhere, Mundungus!" cried Professor McGonagall. "Hello, Potter. I trust you received your O.W.L. grades?" She was seemed to be fighting back a smile.

"Yeah, I can't believe I passed all the classes I needed to!"

Professor McGonagall beamed at him.

"Come on, Harry, we've got to leave sometime before next year!" Tonks was standing impatiently by the kitchen door.

"Right...sorry." And Harry followed her up the stairs to his room.

"Oh, you've already packed..." Tonks seemed a bit disappointed.

"Why? Doesn't that make it easier?"

"Oh-well...yeah, but I just got the hang of that packing spell, I can get everything in there neatly now!"

Harry smiled and grabbed his broom and Hedwig's cage. Tonks pointed her wand at his trunk and cried, "Locomotor trunk!"

Just as they had done the previous year, they marched out of the room with the trunk floating in front of them. When they reached the kitchen a roar from Uncle Vernon greeted them.

"DOING--DOING---THE 'M' WORD IN MY HOUSE! I WON'T HAVE IT! I WON'T! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW!"

"With pleasure," said Tonks brightly.

Kingsley Shacklebolt took out an old milk carton from his cloak. Aunt Petunia seemed revolted that it was in her kitchen. Harry could tell she was back to normal.

Kingsley pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus"

Uncle Vernon was still shouting about strangers using magic in his house, but no one was paying him any attention.

"Aren't you going to get in trouble for making a Portkey?" Harry asked curiously.

"Don't forget, Harry, that the Minister and many other Ministry workers saw Voldemort with their own eyes. They can't arrest one of us for doing something like this anymore. And besides, I work at the Ministry. Come on, now." And they all moved towards the milk carton.

Uncle Vernon had stopped his yelling and was staring at the group of them, all touching this old piece of garbage. Harry found the Dursley's expressions quite amusing. Lupin and Mundungus were each holding one end of Harry's trunk while touching the Portkey, Harry was clutching Hedwig's cage, and Tonks was holding his Firebolt. Just then there was a jerk somewhere around his navel, and they were off.