Chapter 2- The Return
He woke up in a cold sweat that morning, the early light of the crack of dawn creeping through his window. He reached tiredly over and turned off his alarm. He had again woken earlier that morning at about 2:45 a.m., and once again, he was only able to find to a restless sleep, filled with nightmares, normal ones this time.
He lay there for about half an hour, and as the sun crept slowly across his room, his memories began to crash back, the attack on him yesterday, the Dursley's rage, and fear, (more at the thought of a wizard at their home then at Harry's life being at risk), and finally Mrs. Weasley's letter. As he sorted through all his memories, he remembered. Today was the day, today he was going to return to number twelve Grimmauld Place. He was going to see Ron, and Hermione. He was going to be with his real family again. He was going to go home, to the wizarding world.
With this joyful thought in mind, Harry jumped from bed, and hurriedly began rounding up his belongings, his clothes, books, parchment, and stacking them neatly in his trunk. When he was finished, his room looked bare, despite all of Dudley's old broken things. He set to hauling his trunk out of his room, into the hallway, and down the hallway towards the stairs. Just as he was passing Dudley's room however, the door swung open, and Dudley, in all his bulk and muscle, stood in the doorway, looking at Harry with a smirk on his face.
"Here, let me help you, to get you out of our house quicker," sneered Dudley, as he pushed Harry aside, and picked the trunk up in both hands with ease. Still smirking, he said in a voice etched with false fear, carrying down to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's room, "NO! HARRY, YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO!"
Just then, Dudley hurled the trunk over the side of the railing, and Harry instinctively pulled his wand out of his pocket, and ran to look down after it. What came next happened very fast.
Just before the trunk hit Aunt Petunia's prized antique lamp, it stopped in mid air, the door to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's bedroom banged open, and they both stood in the doorway, in their night cloths, looking horror stricken. They ran to the railing and looked down where Harry and Dudley were looking. If possible, their looks became more horror filled as they watched the trunk float sideways of its own accord and set down softly. Dudley, also horror stricken, looked sideways at Harry, and as if he just realized he were there, jumped back. Harry didn't even notice, a thousand things were running through his mind at once. Had he done it? If not he, who? Would he be expelled? What would the Dursley's do?
Then, all these questions were answered. "Harry? Harry, how did that happen?" asked professor Dumbledor, coming into view from the hallway. Harry felt like jumping over the rail himself to get to Dumbledor. Instead he simply ran full speed to the stairs, took them three at a time, blowing past his aunt and uncle, who were staring at Dumbledor, and down the hall to Dumbledor. Then he flung his arms around him, taking him by surprise.
Remembering himself, Harry let go and stepped back, muttering "I'm sorry professor."
"That's quite alright Harry," replied Dumbledor. "So, I take it that you are ready to depart." Harry shook his head vigorously.
"I thought so." He then turned to the Dursleys. "Vernon, Petunia, hello," he said inclining his head slightly to each in turn. "Will you please allow me to take Harry now?" he asked politely.
Without speaking, and looking flushed but no longer horror stricken, they all nodded there heads slightly.
"Well, Harry, I guess we should be going, I believe they expect us any minute."
"But, professor, how will we be going?" asked Harry.
"I have brought an extra threstral for you," answered Dumbledor.
Harry's heart sank just a little. The last time he had ridden threstrals, it had been a very uncomfortable night, and it had ended with Sirius...
Don't think about him now, you should be happy, you're going back.
Dumbledor seemed to have heard Harry's thoughts, because he said, "Do not worry Harry, I think you'll find this ride more enjoyable in the daylight and with the specially made saddles."
"Professor, isn't their another way we might travel," asked Harry.
"But of course, Harry, if you do not feel up to the long ride, we could take floo powder. We have the floo network watched with hand picked people now, so it is quite safe. Is that what you want Harry?"
"Y-Yes please professor," said Harry, feeling a little ashamed of his own unwillingness to ride the threstrals.
"Very well, I will unsaddle the threstrals and send them back to Hogwarts. I will be back directly."
Harry wondered vaguely how Dumbledor planned to get the threstrals back without them being seen. He pulled his trunk into the living room in front of the electric fireplace. The Dursleys came in together and sat on their couch, watching Harry with cold eyes, their fear apparently overcome for the moment by their hatred of Harry.
Then, Uncle Vernon's face lit with a sudden understanding, and he spoke out, "Wait just a minute their boy, how exactly are you going to leave. You by god will not use our fireplace again. I remember what happened last time, and I will not have it."
Dumbledor came into the room just then. "Is their a problem, Mr. Dursley?" he said in a gentle tone, leveling Uncle Vernon with a stare from those radiantly blue eyes.
"Yes, actually," replied Uncle Dursley, apparently less afraid of a man seemingly towards the end of a long life, but still with as polite a voice as he could manage. "I refuse to let you, people, use my fireplace to do, whatever it is you are going to do."
"Well, Mr. Dursley, if it is your wish that we do not use your fireplace, we of course, will not, but I will have to stay here several days so I can contact someone to arrange transport for young Harry here," replied Dumbledor with a sly smile. Harry of course knew, that Dumbledor could easily arrange transport in several hours, rather than several days. But by the look on Uncle Vernon's face, Dumbledor's plan had worked.
"Well, I suppose it would not inconvenience us too greatly to allow the use of our fireplace for you."
"Thank you very much. Harry, I had the Dursley fireplace figured into the floo network before I came, in case you wanted to go this way. I will stay behind and come directly after you ok?"
"Alright professor, but professor, they have an electric fire..." began Harry, but he was cut of by a kind of screech like that of metal on metal as Dumbledor pulled the electric fireplace out by magic. He then shoved a fistful of floo powder into Harry's hand.
"Go on, Harry. I'll put this back and apparate behind you."
Harry walked to the fire place, and then remembered, "Professor, the fireplace will not hold my trunk, Hedwig's cage, and myself."
"Go, Harry. I will bring your things."
"Ok, thank you professor," said Harry. He threw the floo powder into the fireplace before him, and as the flames turned green, he stepped in. He screamed, as clearly as he could, "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!" He felt the familiar sensation of spinning past hundreds of fireplaces, and then, he stepped out, into the kitchen of what he thought must be number twelve Grimmauld Place.