AUTHOR'S NOTE This story is a collab between the authors Tap Dancing Widow and Starr Light1. We hope you enjoy!
DISCLAIMER We do not own any of the canon characters from the Harry Potter world. They belong to JK Rowling, who can do with them what she pleases.
Harry stood before the ramshackle door of the house at 12 Grimmauld Place. The evening was humid and his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his back. It was a week before his birthday and the weather had grown intolerably sticky.
He was overjoyed to be leaving the Dursleys' a whole month early, but the prospect of spending the rest of his summer training with the Order wasn't exactly a happy one. With a resigned sigh, he pushed open the door.
The thump from Harry's trunk hitting the floor alerted the house to his presence. A wildly grinning Fred Weasley burst into the hallway, shouting, "Oi Harry! Hey, Harry's here!" The rest of the house shook as a stampede of Weasleys rushed down the stairs to greet him.
It took Harry forever to get them quiet enough for him to even hear their questions. "Harry, it's lovely to see you!" "Harry, how are you?" "How has your summer been?" "Did those filthy muggle relatives of yours feed you this summer?" "How's your cousin? We can get him more Ton-Tongue Toffee if you want."
Harry's ears were ringing. Finally, Molly Weasley took charge. "QUIET!" she yelled. Her family settled down, watching her expectantly. "Now," she began, giving Harry a hug. "Come sit down in the kitchen, dear, while I fix you some dinner. Then you can answer everyone's questions. I'm sure it's been a long journey."
Harry followed obediently down into the vast basement kitchen. Molly immediately busied herself at the stove, fixing him a dinner that looked to be enough for the entire Order. The Weasley children were on his tail and clustered about him as he sat at the table.
"Harry!"
Remus Lupin emerged from one of the shadowy corners of the kitchen and sat down next to Harry. Giving him a hearty pat on the back, he said, "Glad to see you. Just arrive?"
"Yeah." Harry smiled.
But before Remus could say more, the Weasleys jumped back in. "How has your summer been so far, Harry?" Ginny asked.
"Yeah, how have your horrible relatives been?" Charlie added.
"Not bad." Harry cracked a small smile. "I reminded them that when I turned seventeen, I would be a legal wizard and could practice all the magic I wanted. Repeatedly. That changed their dispositions some."
Charlie laughed. "Good for you, Harry."
"Hey Harry, smashing to see you! Grabbing a bite to eat?" Tonks, her hair magenta at the moment, collapsed into a chair at the other end of the table. Harry nodded. "HEY!" Tonks shouted. "DINNER'S READY!"
The rickety house rocked on its foundation. Moody was the first in the kitchen, his magical eye swirling in wild patterns. Mundungus Fletcher bounded down after him, followed closely by Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. Molly glared at the Order members for a moment before turning exasperatedly back to her cooking. "Thanks Mum!" Bill said cheekily. Molly gave her oldest son a half-smile before declaring dinner to be ready.
Harry had to endure a whole new round of questions from the members of the Order. Was he tolerating the summer okay? Were his relatives feeding him? Did he need Mad Eye to put fear into his uncle again?
It was a long meal, one that Harry was glad to be able to escape. And his excuse of wanting to unpack and get an early night in wasn't too far off. He still felt a twinge of peculiarity now that Sirius's old room was his. This was the second year of the arrangement for Harry to leave the Dursleys' a week before his birthday for training, but it wasn't any easier to be in his Godfather's bedroom now than it had been a year ago.
Harry looked at his large trunk with a sigh. Resignedly, he opened its lid and began to unpack.
A candle burned low, lighting Harry's room with eerie orange shadows. It was nearing midnight, but his Order training had been so intensive that it left little time for the mountains of homework that his professors expected to be done by the first of September.
Harry leaned his head back and rubbed his tired eyes. His bed looked teasingly inviting, but the Potions homework piled on his desk did not promise sleep any time soon.
The sound of a pop in the hallway outside the room made Harry look to his door blearily. At first, he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him but when the pop was followed by a rapping on his door, Harry stood up and went to open it.
"Professor Dumbledore?" To Harry's great surprise, Professor Albus Dumbledore indeed stood outside his bedroom.
"Hello Harry," the old wizard said kindly.
"Hello." Harry didn't quite know what was going on. "Uh, what are you doing here?"
"I have come to wish you a happy birthday, of course." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"Oh." Harry glanced at the clock on his wall. Indeed, it had reached midnight. He was seventeen. "Thank you."
Dumbledore laughed lightly. "And I'm sure you're wondering why I've chosen such an odd time to bring you such greetings."
"Yes sir, a little," Harry admitted.
Dumbledore smiled and tilted his head toward the bedroom. "May I come in?"
"Oh!" Harry blushed. "Of course." He stepped aside to let Dumbledore into the chamber.
The old professor scanned the room quickly, his eyes lighting up when he saw Harry's trunk. "Ah! There we are." With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore had the trunk's lid open and ready for packing.
Harry watched this in utter confusion. "Professor? What's going on?" A horrid thought crossed his mind. "I'm not going back to the Dursleys', am I?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "No, no, my dear boy, nothing of the sort. But you are to come with me, so quickly now, pack your belongings. You won't be returning before the semester begins." Harry hesitated for a moment, eliciting a response of, "Come now, Harry, we have no time to lose. I have left word with the members of the Order that you will be leaving tonight and they expect to find you gone come morning. Hurry now!"
Harry did as he was told. He quickly crammed everything that he would need into his trunk and was ready to go in remarkable time. "Very good!" Dumbledore remarked when Harry was ready.
With a rather strange look, Harry watched as Dumbledore produced a piece of black parchment from within his long robes. Written across the top in white letters was the name POTTER and underneath, a white hand with long fingers. Harry looked at it curiously. "What is that?"
"This, Harry, is a very specialized portkey that works only for you. Hold out your hand." Seeing Harry's protest, Dumbledore continued. "I will apparate behind you."
Harry looked suspiciously at the parchment, then to Dumbledore. "All right." He held out his hand. Before he even felt the parchment, he heard Dumbledore mutter a strange word, "Lelya," and with the familiar tug behind his naval, was gone.