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I hope you enjoy Chapter 2.

2. Between Muggle and Magic

At these words, Harry's thoughts now turned to the prophecy. Not that he had forgotten about it at all, of course, but now it drifted upwards to the surface of his mind.

"Neither can live whilst the other survives." In other words, he had to be either murderer or victim. The prospect was so grim, he could not even bear to tell his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. He had asked himself why it was so, and it was because he was torn between the idea of them offering their support (he'd need it), and the idea of seeing their horrified shocked faces, and even discussing this.

"Come along," came Moody's voice from somewhere in front of him, puncturing his thoughts, "I've got to take you back to your Aunt's, and after that I have to report to Dumbledore and get Tonks for dropping my magical eye into the Colour Change Solution. Damn careless, she is, and even though she did it a week ago, somehow the trees still haven't turned back from turquoise..."

Harry looked up, and followed Moody, who was already striding across the grass, still muttering about Tonks. In his conscious mind he couldn't care less about the turquoise trees Moody was seeing, but subconsciously he was taking in all the information he could have from the magical world, despite how useless it was. That was how much he missed magic.

He treaded slowly behind, his eyes following the beam of light emitting from Mad-Eye's wand. He could hear the breeze skimming over the grass and the occasional too-whoot from the owls swooping from tree to tree as he now contemplated the prophecy which he had tried to put at the back of his mind.

"So, Potter," growled Moody, breaking the silence, "How have you been getting on?"

Harry did not want to answer, particularly this question. He knew how he was getting on, and by "getting on", he knew that Moody was referring to how he was getting over Sirius's death. After a long awkward silence, he decided it would be impolite not to answer, and so forced himself to do so.

"I'm...er...fine really, there's no need to worry about me," Harry replied, in his best attempt at a casual voice.

Mad-Eye seemed to have acknowledged Harry's forced tone, because he did not meantion it again. There was another moment of silence, in which Harry had a mental battle between whether it was better to carry on in the silence which he was more comfortable in, or to make contact with the magical world in this rare opportunity. Finally, his desire to find out more information overpowered his wanting of the silence.

"I heard what sounded like you chasing something in the park," Harry commented, "What exactly was it?"

Moody stopped walking along and the clunk clunk clunk of his wooden leg stopped. He turned to look at Harry, who was wondering if it had anything to do with what the Order was doing. Reluctantly, Moody opened his mouth to speak.

"Potter, you wouldn't mind if I didn't tell you today? It isn't something that we want spreading all over the place in a matter of days," he said slowly, "It isn't that we don't trust you, of course," he added as Harry opened his mouth indignantly, "Dark wizards are all around us, and you never know when you will be overheard. As I always say, constant vigilance."

Harry felt like he was being treated as though he was five, but nevertheless, he did accept the fact that they were standing in the middle of Magnolia Cresent, an extremely shady shortcut back to the Dursley's. It was, after all, where the Dementors had come to attack him the previous summer.

"I want to know why you still won't let me stay at 12 Grimmauld Place," he said grouchily, his hands in his pockets, "It's not as if I haven't stayed long enough at the Dursley's this year. Two weeks should be enough for the protection thing. Tell Dumbledore that."

"It's not that simple, Potter-" Mad-Eye began, his magical eye suddenly spinning around so that it looked like an electric blue blur and Harry had to concentrate on looking at his other eye instead. His words were cut off by a most horrific scream, echoing in the neighbourhood. It was long and painful, as though the person was in agony, and brutally reminded Harry of someone being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse. Suddenly lights came on in the street they were heading for, and Harry realized with a sickening dread that it was Privet Drive.

Simultaneously, as though they had both been waiting for this to happen, Harry and Mad-Eye started running down the road. Harry grabbed his wand from his back pocket, and raised it high in front of him; the International Statute of Secrecy wasn't important right now. Mad-Eye moved at an astonishingly high speed despite his wooden leg, and Harry trampled on Next Door's orderly flowerbeds in his hurry to get back to the Dursley's.

Apart from the screaming, Harry could tell that something else was wrong with the night as he raised his eyes to the sky. He felt like he was suspended in mid-air, whilst the floor below his feet was falling away. A familiar green constellation had joined the stars looking down at him.