Title: Legacy of the Father (2)
Spoilers: First four books; contains some elements introduced in the 5th book, but is set during Harry's 5th year.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Two - The Letter from No One
Harry awoke to the sound of Voldemort's frantic yells and the nightmaric visions of Cedric Diggory's death at Wormtail's hands running around in his head. This can't go on, Harry thought, hoping to cheer himself up. His memories concerning the last challenge at the Triwizard Tournament were so clear in Harry's mind, he wondered if he'd ever be able to put them out of his head for even two seconds. What I need is a Pensieve, Harry mused. Maybe then I could finally get on with life.
Harry looked at his new wizard watch, a gift from Sirius to cheer him up. It was nearly time for Aunt Petunia to wake the house with her shrill calls to Uncle Vernon and Dudley, though it had taken Harry nearly a week to figure out how to read the watch properly. Sirius had told him in the letter that had accompanied the watch that the watch was similar to one that both Dumbledore and James Potter had before the the infamous night at Godric's Hollow.
Harry cleaned up and dressed before returning to his made up bed. Next to his bed was his trunk, full of all his school books, his Firebolt, and many other odd tidbits that were carried from Hogwarts to Privet Drive. Next to the window, roosted on top of her cage rather than in it, was Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl and messenger. Nearby was Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl from Sirius. Pig, as Pigwidgeon was called, had arrived while Harry was asleep, and Ron's letter was lying on the already cluttered desk near the half-open window.
Harry opened the letter to find Ron's scribbled handwriting.
Harry,
I hope you're doing okay. Mom's really worried and she wants to bring you to the Burrow, but Dad thinks that you might be safer where you are. He got a letter from Dumbledore that said about as much. I don't know really how you could be safer with a bunch of Muggles, but maybe there is something to this situation that we don't know about.
Have you heard from anybody else from Hogwarts? I'm sure you've probably had a ton of letters after what happened at the Triwizard Tournament. Anyhow, I hope to hear from you soon. Maybe Dumbledore will send you a letter to tell you that you can come to the Burrow.
-Ron
Harry, actually, hadn't received mail from very many people. There had been a letter from Hermione yesterday, and there seemed to be a virtual stream of letters to and from Sirius, even in hiding. And there were always hints or clues that Remus Lupin was dictating some parts of the letters while Sirius did the writing. Harry still hadn't worked up the nerve to ask Sirius what Dumbledore had meant by the "old crowd." His mission for Remus and Sirius had been to find, inform, and recruit them to start allying themselves seperate of the Ministry of Magic and against Voldemort. Dumbledore had only named a few names, but Harry only knew of Remus Lupin. He had never heard the names of Mundungus Fletcher and Arabella Figg before. Maybe they were friends of his parents, as Lupin and Sirius had been.
Harry reached into his trunk and found the photo album that Hagrid had made for him. Looking through the pictures, he saw a great many people he didn't know but who all seemed to know him. They eagerly waved and smiled at him as he flipped through the pages. Then, in a picture of guests celebrating, he caught sight of someone he did know, though it had been a few years since he had seen this woman. She smiled faintly at Harry, then, recognizing the realization that spread across his expression, she nodded.
It was Arabella Figg. Mrs. Figg, who lived a few blocks away. Harry had often been sent to her house on Dudley's birthdays. He couldn't say he enjoyed being in the house, but his mind wandered instead to all the reasons that Mrs. Figg could have for not allowing Harry to know who she was. Dumbledore must have known, though. Maybe that was why she never told Harry that she had been a friend of his parents.
Turning his attention back to the picture, Harry noticed that the picture form of Mrs. Figg was pointing to something within the picture. Harry tried to follow the path of the pointing finger, but he could barely make out where it was pointing, let alone anything in particular that Mrs. Figg might be pointing out to him.
A sudden knock on his door made Harry jump.
"Are you awake yet?"
"Yes, Aunt Petunia."
"Then hurry up, boy. Get out here!"
Stashing the photo album back into his trunk, Harry walked to the dining room to find very little room was available amidst all of Aunt Marge's bags, sent ahead to be sure that they arrived by the time she did. Oh, that's right, Harry thought. She's supposed to coming again. It had been two years since Harry had last seen Aunt Marge, and Harry was skeptical that she ever wanted to see him again. After all, the last time they had seen each other, Harry had made Aunt Marge blow up like a balloon.
"Now, Aunt Marge will be arriving very soon. Just as soon as we get him out of the house."
"Where am I going?" Harry asked, not knowing of anyone in the wizarding community that was allowed to house him right now.
"You're going to the Grangers for today. Tomorrow, according to this letter, someone is coming to take you from there."
The parchment was not from Dumbledore. It was plain white paper with plain black ink. Dumbledore always used an antique-looking ivory paper and green ink, the same as everyone else at Hogwarts.
"Who? Can I have the letter?"
"It doesn't say who. And no, you can not have the letter."
"Does it say who wrote it?"
"What does that matter?" retorted Uncle Vernon, starting to get a tad upset at this line of questioning.
"Just curious is all. Maybe I'll ask my godfather if he knows." Harry started out of the room. He wasn't very hungry for the bacon and eggs that Aunt Petunia was burning in the pan.
"Where are you headed? I told you that you are going to the Grangers."
"I need to pack a few things," Harry lied.
Harry couldn't go to Hermione's if someone other than Dumbledore was expecting him to be there. What would Sirius think about this? Harry ran to his room, making very certain that the door was closed and locked, then sat down to write a letter to Sirius. Harry stopped before the pen ever touched the paper. Wait, he told himself. This letter, and any response that Sirius would have, would have to be delivered by owl, which could take a while. Meanwhile, Uncle Vernon would be sending Harry to Hermione's before too long. Definitely sometime this morning.
He had to think of something, anything that could get him out of this pinch. If it wasn't for that letter, and its implications, Harry would have been thrilled to go to Hermione's. But what if that letter was a trick? With Voldemort now in full capacity and his power coming back, Harry had to be more careful than his parents before him.
Harry was utterly lost as to what to do. Hedwig flew over to him and nibbled on his ear, her sign of affection. If he wasn't an underage wizard, Harry knew a few spells and charms that would have proven effective right now. And his Firebolt would have been a nice escape vehicle if it wasn't down right outlawed to ride them where Muggle could see them. Privet Drive residents could be counted on to look right at him as he flew by.
He would have counted on Ron and his brothers to rescue him as they had done in the past, but Ron's letter had stated as clear as day that the Weasleys were staying in Ottery-St. Catchpole for a while longer.
Maybe he could ask Hermione what to do. She was a wizard, or, at least, she would be soon. That's what he would do. A knock on the door, then another was followed by the resounding sounds of Uncle Vernon yelling.
"Open this door right this instant!"
Harry quickly shut the chest, put an unhappy Hedwig back in her cage, and open the door.
"Locking the door, eh?"
"Must have been a slip of the hand."
Uncle Vernon surveyed the room, taking notice that there was something out of place.
"We are not collecting owls, are we?"
Harry turned around, noticing that he had forgotten to send Pigwideon back to Ron.
"He's just visiting."
"Get him out of here! This isn't a zoo!"
Harry ran to Pig and sent him out the window, closing it behind himself.
"I don't want to see any more owls around here, coming or going! That one better stay in that cage, too!"
"She stays in there."
Dudley popped into the room, brandishing his Smeltings stick. Harry could just see Dudley using it against Hedwig. He would think it great fun to chase Hedwig with the stick in hand.
"She's in her cage. I'm sure that she's going to go to sleep pretty soon. She'll be real quiet then."
"Maybe she should sleep more often. Get your things all stowed away in your trunk yet?"
"Yes, Uncle Vernon."
Uncle Vernon, using a small trolley, took Harry's trunk out to the car. Aunt Petunia herded Harry, carrying Hedwig's cage, into the car, with Dudley getting in on the other side of the car and looking smug about it.
Hermione's house was only about thirty miles away from the Dursley's. This whole trip seemed odd. The Dursleys were actually taking him to visit one of his friends from Hogwarts. Perhaps it was the fact that the Grangers weren't wizards (not all of them) that allowed Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to allow this. Maybe they didn't remember that Hermione was a wizard, just like him. That would have sent them for a loop. Magic was a deplorable thing to the Dursleys, so wizards were doubly deplorable for using it.
Hermione's parents met them at the front door.
"Hi, Harry! We've heard so much about you," greeted Mrs. Granger.
"You must be Harry's uncle. Dr. Alexander Granger, pleased to meet you."
"Here. You can have him." And with that, Uncle Vernon dropped Harry's trunk off the trolley and left.
"Well, honestly! How do you do it, Harry?"
"Do what, Mrs. Granger?"
"Live with them?"
"Day to day. Where's Hermione?" Harry asked as both he and Dr. Granger hauled Harry's trunk to the spare bedroom, and Mrs. Granger followed carrying Hedwig's cage.
"In her room, studying," Mrs. Granger replied, pointing to the room across the hallway.
"Really?"
"Yes, our Hermione has been studying all summer. She's getting ready for something called the O.W.L.s."
"The O.W.L.s don't come until the end of this next year."
"What are the O.W.L.s anyway? Hermione was trying to explain them to us, but I'm afraid she lost me somewhere along the way."
"Well, the O.W.L.s are tests of a wizard's skill in certain basic areas of magic, like charms and potions making. That's what I've been studying," said Hermione, making both her parents and Harry jump.
"Hey, Hermione."
"Hey, Harry. Have you started studying yet?"
"Some. The Dursleys are not the most understanding when it comes to this type of studying."
"We can see how that could be the case," retorted Dr. Granger.
"Well, now that you're here, we can study together. Come on. Get your books."
"We'll leave you to it then."
Harry wasn't much in the mood for studying, but he needed to talk to Hermione. Grabbing his books from his trunk, Harry joined Hermione.
Hermione's room was the model of clean. Even her open books on the desk were in order.
"Hermione, can I talk to you for a minute before we start studying?"
"What about?"
Harry pulled the photo album from between two of his school books. He turned to the page with Mrs. Figg's picture.
"There is a person in this photo from my parent's wedding that keeps pointing at something over in this general direction. Do you see anything?"
Hermione took the book in her hands and examined the photo carefully. Mrs. Figg again pointed in the direction she had before.
"Look where she's pointing. See anything unusual?"
"It's hard to tell. Give me a minute."
Hermione looked for a few seconds, then abruptly put the book down and ran to the desk. She returned with a magnifying glass. Looking at the picture again through the magnifying glass, Hermione soon let out a gasp.
"What? What is it?"
"Harry, look back at the far table to the right of the photo, under the table, hovering just above the ground. What is it?"
Harry, following the directions with his eyes, he soon saw the very thing Hermione was describing. As close to the ground as it was, and as far away as it was from the photographer, the object was too out of focus to tell what it was.
"What could it be?"
"I don't know, Hermione. I just couldn't tell."
"Neither could I. Are there any other pictures of it? Is she pointing to it anywhere else?" Harry flipped backwards through the pages of the book again to make sure. There were plenty of pictures that moved. After all, this was a wizard wedding and these were wizard photographs. There were pictures of the guests, among them Sirius Black and Remus Lupin; pictures of his parents smiling and waving happily to him. Towards the front were pictures of Harry as a baby, and at these, Harry blushed.
"Who gave you this album, Harry?"
"Hagrid did."
It had been a gift from the heart. Hagrid understood, as many of the older wizards did, how much Harry had wanted to know about his parents. These pictures were a first step. Harry knew what his parents looked like and that they had loved him from the very first moment of his life to the very last of their own.
Somehow, Hermione understood what these pictures meant to Harry.
"You can put them away if you're uncomfortable sharing them."
"It's okay. I just want to have known them for a longer time than I did."
"Hagrid knew that when he gave you this. I guess he wanted to show you the truest side of them,
at a time when You-Know-Who wasn't on their mind."
"I think Voldemort was on their mind, but that, for these few days, they didn't let it occupy them the way it did usually."
"What's wrong, Harry? I've never seen you this upset unless something was really wrong."
"Hermione, who told your parents that I would be here?"
"The letter is downstairs. Let's see."
Harry and Hermione raced down the stairs.
"Hey Mom, do you know where that letter about Harry coming here is now?"
"It should be on the desk in the study."
Hermione led the way to the study. There, true to her mother's words was the letter. White paper, black ink. Same as the letter to the Dursleys telling them where to take Harry. Taking the letter, they walked back up to Harry's room.
"Is it from Dumbledore?"
Hermione read through letter carefully.
"I don't know. It's not signed."
"And the paper and ink don't look like those used by the teachers, especially Dumbledore and McGonagall."
"They would sign it. They would have nothing to gain by not signing."
"Yeah, we might not do as the letters say."
"Letters?"
"Yeah, the Dursleys got one telling them to bring me here."
"Who besides Dumbledore would move you to here?"
"Voldemort."
"Why here?"
"No wizards besides the two of us. And something about being with the Dursleys is protection for me. This gets me out of that protection's area."
"Maybe you should tell Sirius about this."
"My thoughts exactly. And Ron. Maybe the Weasleys know something that we don't."
"Well, we only have one owl, Hedwig."
"Hmm. Good point. Well, Hedwig, are you up for two trips back-to-back?"
Hedwig looked at him, then nibbled on his ear in response. Harry tied the note Hermione had written to Hedwig's leg.
"As fast as you can to Sirius."
Hedwig flew out the open window and disappeared from sight.
"I hope Hedwig is fast."
"I hope she can find Sirius. As close as it is to the next term, Sirius and Remus may already be on the go," Harry said.
"What do you think Sirius will do when he hears of this?"
"I don't know. I hope he doesn't do anything irrational. After all, besides Dumbledore, we're the only ones who know how to get to him, and I think that's a good thing."
Hedwig was the last being Sirius Black expected to see that morning. Remus was packing while Sirius prepared the foodstuffs that would keep them for a majority of the journey. Hedwig landed on the counter next to the stove and wiggled her foot to get Sirius' attention.
"Harry has written, eh, Hedwig?"
He opened the note, noticing the signature as that of Hermione. He read it thoughtfully.
"This isn't right. Remus, come look at this. Someone has moved Harry from Privet Drive to the Granger's house."
"Do they say who it is?"
Sirius noticed the second page. This wasn't in Harry or Hermione's writing.
"They sent the note that told the Grangers to expect Harry. I don't recognize the handwriting."
"Any signature?"
"None. 'Dumbledore or McGonagall would sign,' Hermione writes. I think she's right. If it was from the school or one of the teachers, they wouldn't spook Harry by not signing it."
Remus, finished with packing for the moment, appeared in the room.
"Could Voldemort...?"
"He is alive, Remus, and nothing would give him more satisfaction than to kill Harry. We both know that. But why allow him to arrive at the Grangers? Why not kill him en route, when no one else would be there to protect him?"
"Isn't he still unprotected?"
"Don't underestimate Hermione and Harry. They may not be through Hogwarts yet, but think about how much the two of them know. You were their teacher, after all."
"Only for a year, but you're right. They do know a great deal more than even they realize. But is that enough to fight Voldemort himself with? Especially now?"
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Remus?"
"But Dumbledore ordered us to do something else. Besides, Hogwarts and Hogsmeade are the last places you need to be. What if someone were to see you?"
"Then what to do, Remus?"
"Honestly, I think our hands are tied in this matter."
"What to tell Harry?"
"To be cautious, definitely."
"I think if Harry knew to alert Hermione and us that he knows to be on guard."
"I pray so."
Sirius picked up the quill and wrote for a moment. Reattaching the parchment to Hedwig's leg, he sent her off.
"What did you write?"
"Just some advice, Remus. Just some really good advice."
Spoilers: First four books; contains some elements introduced in the 5th book, but is set during Harry's 5th year.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Two - The Letter from No One
Harry awoke to the sound of Voldemort's frantic yells and the nightmaric visions of Cedric Diggory's death at Wormtail's hands running around in his head. This can't go on, Harry thought, hoping to cheer himself up. His memories concerning the last challenge at the Triwizard Tournament were so clear in Harry's mind, he wondered if he'd ever be able to put them out of his head for even two seconds. What I need is a Pensieve, Harry mused. Maybe then I could finally get on with life.
Harry looked at his new wizard watch, a gift from Sirius to cheer him up. It was nearly time for Aunt Petunia to wake the house with her shrill calls to Uncle Vernon and Dudley, though it had taken Harry nearly a week to figure out how to read the watch properly. Sirius had told him in the letter that had accompanied the watch that the watch was similar to one that both Dumbledore and James Potter had before the the infamous night at Godric's Hollow.
Harry cleaned up and dressed before returning to his made up bed. Next to his bed was his trunk, full of all his school books, his Firebolt, and many other odd tidbits that were carried from Hogwarts to Privet Drive. Next to the window, roosted on top of her cage rather than in it, was Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl and messenger. Nearby was Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl from Sirius. Pig, as Pigwidgeon was called, had arrived while Harry was asleep, and Ron's letter was lying on the already cluttered desk near the half-open window.
Harry opened the letter to find Ron's scribbled handwriting.
Harry,
I hope you're doing okay. Mom's really worried and she wants to bring you to the Burrow, but Dad thinks that you might be safer where you are. He got a letter from Dumbledore that said about as much. I don't know really how you could be safer with a bunch of Muggles, but maybe there is something to this situation that we don't know about.
Have you heard from anybody else from Hogwarts? I'm sure you've probably had a ton of letters after what happened at the Triwizard Tournament. Anyhow, I hope to hear from you soon. Maybe Dumbledore will send you a letter to tell you that you can come to the Burrow.
-Ron
Harry, actually, hadn't received mail from very many people. There had been a letter from Hermione yesterday, and there seemed to be a virtual stream of letters to and from Sirius, even in hiding. And there were always hints or clues that Remus Lupin was dictating some parts of the letters while Sirius did the writing. Harry still hadn't worked up the nerve to ask Sirius what Dumbledore had meant by the "old crowd." His mission for Remus and Sirius had been to find, inform, and recruit them to start allying themselves seperate of the Ministry of Magic and against Voldemort. Dumbledore had only named a few names, but Harry only knew of Remus Lupin. He had never heard the names of Mundungus Fletcher and Arabella Figg before. Maybe they were friends of his parents, as Lupin and Sirius had been.
Harry reached into his trunk and found the photo album that Hagrid had made for him. Looking through the pictures, he saw a great many people he didn't know but who all seemed to know him. They eagerly waved and smiled at him as he flipped through the pages. Then, in a picture of guests celebrating, he caught sight of someone he did know, though it had been a few years since he had seen this woman. She smiled faintly at Harry, then, recognizing the realization that spread across his expression, she nodded.
It was Arabella Figg. Mrs. Figg, who lived a few blocks away. Harry had often been sent to her house on Dudley's birthdays. He couldn't say he enjoyed being in the house, but his mind wandered instead to all the reasons that Mrs. Figg could have for not allowing Harry to know who she was. Dumbledore must have known, though. Maybe that was why she never told Harry that she had been a friend of his parents.
Turning his attention back to the picture, Harry noticed that the picture form of Mrs. Figg was pointing to something within the picture. Harry tried to follow the path of the pointing finger, but he could barely make out where it was pointing, let alone anything in particular that Mrs. Figg might be pointing out to him.
A sudden knock on his door made Harry jump.
"Are you awake yet?"
"Yes, Aunt Petunia."
"Then hurry up, boy. Get out here!"
Stashing the photo album back into his trunk, Harry walked to the dining room to find very little room was available amidst all of Aunt Marge's bags, sent ahead to be sure that they arrived by the time she did. Oh, that's right, Harry thought. She's supposed to coming again. It had been two years since Harry had last seen Aunt Marge, and Harry was skeptical that she ever wanted to see him again. After all, the last time they had seen each other, Harry had made Aunt Marge blow up like a balloon.
"Now, Aunt Marge will be arriving very soon. Just as soon as we get him out of the house."
"Where am I going?" Harry asked, not knowing of anyone in the wizarding community that was allowed to house him right now.
"You're going to the Grangers for today. Tomorrow, according to this letter, someone is coming to take you from there."
The parchment was not from Dumbledore. It was plain white paper with plain black ink. Dumbledore always used an antique-looking ivory paper and green ink, the same as everyone else at Hogwarts.
"Who? Can I have the letter?"
"It doesn't say who. And no, you can not have the letter."
"Does it say who wrote it?"
"What does that matter?" retorted Uncle Vernon, starting to get a tad upset at this line of questioning.
"Just curious is all. Maybe I'll ask my godfather if he knows." Harry started out of the room. He wasn't very hungry for the bacon and eggs that Aunt Petunia was burning in the pan.
"Where are you headed? I told you that you are going to the Grangers."
"I need to pack a few things," Harry lied.
Harry couldn't go to Hermione's if someone other than Dumbledore was expecting him to be there. What would Sirius think about this? Harry ran to his room, making very certain that the door was closed and locked, then sat down to write a letter to Sirius. Harry stopped before the pen ever touched the paper. Wait, he told himself. This letter, and any response that Sirius would have, would have to be delivered by owl, which could take a while. Meanwhile, Uncle Vernon would be sending Harry to Hermione's before too long. Definitely sometime this morning.
He had to think of something, anything that could get him out of this pinch. If it wasn't for that letter, and its implications, Harry would have been thrilled to go to Hermione's. But what if that letter was a trick? With Voldemort now in full capacity and his power coming back, Harry had to be more careful than his parents before him.
Harry was utterly lost as to what to do. Hedwig flew over to him and nibbled on his ear, her sign of affection. If he wasn't an underage wizard, Harry knew a few spells and charms that would have proven effective right now. And his Firebolt would have been a nice escape vehicle if it wasn't down right outlawed to ride them where Muggle could see them. Privet Drive residents could be counted on to look right at him as he flew by.
He would have counted on Ron and his brothers to rescue him as they had done in the past, but Ron's letter had stated as clear as day that the Weasleys were staying in Ottery-St. Catchpole for a while longer.
Maybe he could ask Hermione what to do. She was a wizard, or, at least, she would be soon. That's what he would do. A knock on the door, then another was followed by the resounding sounds of Uncle Vernon yelling.
"Open this door right this instant!"
Harry quickly shut the chest, put an unhappy Hedwig back in her cage, and open the door.
"Locking the door, eh?"
"Must have been a slip of the hand."
Uncle Vernon surveyed the room, taking notice that there was something out of place.
"We are not collecting owls, are we?"
Harry turned around, noticing that he had forgotten to send Pigwideon back to Ron.
"He's just visiting."
"Get him out of here! This isn't a zoo!"
Harry ran to Pig and sent him out the window, closing it behind himself.
"I don't want to see any more owls around here, coming or going! That one better stay in that cage, too!"
"She stays in there."
Dudley popped into the room, brandishing his Smeltings stick. Harry could just see Dudley using it against Hedwig. He would think it great fun to chase Hedwig with the stick in hand.
"She's in her cage. I'm sure that she's going to go to sleep pretty soon. She'll be real quiet then."
"Maybe she should sleep more often. Get your things all stowed away in your trunk yet?"
"Yes, Uncle Vernon."
Uncle Vernon, using a small trolley, took Harry's trunk out to the car. Aunt Petunia herded Harry, carrying Hedwig's cage, into the car, with Dudley getting in on the other side of the car and looking smug about it.
Hermione's house was only about thirty miles away from the Dursley's. This whole trip seemed odd. The Dursleys were actually taking him to visit one of his friends from Hogwarts. Perhaps it was the fact that the Grangers weren't wizards (not all of them) that allowed Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to allow this. Maybe they didn't remember that Hermione was a wizard, just like him. That would have sent them for a loop. Magic was a deplorable thing to the Dursleys, so wizards were doubly deplorable for using it.
Hermione's parents met them at the front door.
"Hi, Harry! We've heard so much about you," greeted Mrs. Granger.
"You must be Harry's uncle. Dr. Alexander Granger, pleased to meet you."
"Here. You can have him." And with that, Uncle Vernon dropped Harry's trunk off the trolley and left.
"Well, honestly! How do you do it, Harry?"
"Do what, Mrs. Granger?"
"Live with them?"
"Day to day. Where's Hermione?" Harry asked as both he and Dr. Granger hauled Harry's trunk to the spare bedroom, and Mrs. Granger followed carrying Hedwig's cage.
"In her room, studying," Mrs. Granger replied, pointing to the room across the hallway.
"Really?"
"Yes, our Hermione has been studying all summer. She's getting ready for something called the O.W.L.s."
"The O.W.L.s don't come until the end of this next year."
"What are the O.W.L.s anyway? Hermione was trying to explain them to us, but I'm afraid she lost me somewhere along the way."
"Well, the O.W.L.s are tests of a wizard's skill in certain basic areas of magic, like charms and potions making. That's what I've been studying," said Hermione, making both her parents and Harry jump.
"Hey, Hermione."
"Hey, Harry. Have you started studying yet?"
"Some. The Dursleys are not the most understanding when it comes to this type of studying."
"We can see how that could be the case," retorted Dr. Granger.
"Well, now that you're here, we can study together. Come on. Get your books."
"We'll leave you to it then."
Harry wasn't much in the mood for studying, but he needed to talk to Hermione. Grabbing his books from his trunk, Harry joined Hermione.
Hermione's room was the model of clean. Even her open books on the desk were in order.
"Hermione, can I talk to you for a minute before we start studying?"
"What about?"
Harry pulled the photo album from between two of his school books. He turned to the page with Mrs. Figg's picture.
"There is a person in this photo from my parent's wedding that keeps pointing at something over in this general direction. Do you see anything?"
Hermione took the book in her hands and examined the photo carefully. Mrs. Figg again pointed in the direction she had before.
"Look where she's pointing. See anything unusual?"
"It's hard to tell. Give me a minute."
Hermione looked for a few seconds, then abruptly put the book down and ran to the desk. She returned with a magnifying glass. Looking at the picture again through the magnifying glass, Hermione soon let out a gasp.
"What? What is it?"
"Harry, look back at the far table to the right of the photo, under the table, hovering just above the ground. What is it?"
Harry, following the directions with his eyes, he soon saw the very thing Hermione was describing. As close to the ground as it was, and as far away as it was from the photographer, the object was too out of focus to tell what it was.
"What could it be?"
"I don't know, Hermione. I just couldn't tell."
"Neither could I. Are there any other pictures of it? Is she pointing to it anywhere else?" Harry flipped backwards through the pages of the book again to make sure. There were plenty of pictures that moved. After all, this was a wizard wedding and these were wizard photographs. There were pictures of the guests, among them Sirius Black and Remus Lupin; pictures of his parents smiling and waving happily to him. Towards the front were pictures of Harry as a baby, and at these, Harry blushed.
"Who gave you this album, Harry?"
"Hagrid did."
It had been a gift from the heart. Hagrid understood, as many of the older wizards did, how much Harry had wanted to know about his parents. These pictures were a first step. Harry knew what his parents looked like and that they had loved him from the very first moment of his life to the very last of their own.
Somehow, Hermione understood what these pictures meant to Harry.
"You can put them away if you're uncomfortable sharing them."
"It's okay. I just want to have known them for a longer time than I did."
"Hagrid knew that when he gave you this. I guess he wanted to show you the truest side of them,
at a time when You-Know-Who wasn't on their mind."
"I think Voldemort was on their mind, but that, for these few days, they didn't let it occupy them the way it did usually."
"What's wrong, Harry? I've never seen you this upset unless something was really wrong."
"Hermione, who told your parents that I would be here?"
"The letter is downstairs. Let's see."
Harry and Hermione raced down the stairs.
"Hey Mom, do you know where that letter about Harry coming here is now?"
"It should be on the desk in the study."
Hermione led the way to the study. There, true to her mother's words was the letter. White paper, black ink. Same as the letter to the Dursleys telling them where to take Harry. Taking the letter, they walked back up to Harry's room.
"Is it from Dumbledore?"
Hermione read through letter carefully.
"I don't know. It's not signed."
"And the paper and ink don't look like those used by the teachers, especially Dumbledore and McGonagall."
"They would sign it. They would have nothing to gain by not signing."
"Yeah, we might not do as the letters say."
"Letters?"
"Yeah, the Dursleys got one telling them to bring me here."
"Who besides Dumbledore would move you to here?"
"Voldemort."
"Why here?"
"No wizards besides the two of us. And something about being with the Dursleys is protection for me. This gets me out of that protection's area."
"Maybe you should tell Sirius about this."
"My thoughts exactly. And Ron. Maybe the Weasleys know something that we don't."
"Well, we only have one owl, Hedwig."
"Hmm. Good point. Well, Hedwig, are you up for two trips back-to-back?"
Hedwig looked at him, then nibbled on his ear in response. Harry tied the note Hermione had written to Hedwig's leg.
"As fast as you can to Sirius."
Hedwig flew out the open window and disappeared from sight.
"I hope Hedwig is fast."
"I hope she can find Sirius. As close as it is to the next term, Sirius and Remus may already be on the go," Harry said.
"What do you think Sirius will do when he hears of this?"
"I don't know. I hope he doesn't do anything irrational. After all, besides Dumbledore, we're the only ones who know how to get to him, and I think that's a good thing."
Hedwig was the last being Sirius Black expected to see that morning. Remus was packing while Sirius prepared the foodstuffs that would keep them for a majority of the journey. Hedwig landed on the counter next to the stove and wiggled her foot to get Sirius' attention.
"Harry has written, eh, Hedwig?"
He opened the note, noticing the signature as that of Hermione. He read it thoughtfully.
"This isn't right. Remus, come look at this. Someone has moved Harry from Privet Drive to the Granger's house."
"Do they say who it is?"
Sirius noticed the second page. This wasn't in Harry or Hermione's writing.
"They sent the note that told the Grangers to expect Harry. I don't recognize the handwriting."
"Any signature?"
"None. 'Dumbledore or McGonagall would sign,' Hermione writes. I think she's right. If it was from the school or one of the teachers, they wouldn't spook Harry by not signing it."
Remus, finished with packing for the moment, appeared in the room.
"Could Voldemort...?"
"He is alive, Remus, and nothing would give him more satisfaction than to kill Harry. We both know that. But why allow him to arrive at the Grangers? Why not kill him en route, when no one else would be there to protect him?"
"Isn't he still unprotected?"
"Don't underestimate Hermione and Harry. They may not be through Hogwarts yet, but think about how much the two of them know. You were their teacher, after all."
"Only for a year, but you're right. They do know a great deal more than even they realize. But is that enough to fight Voldemort himself with? Especially now?"
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Remus?"
"But Dumbledore ordered us to do something else. Besides, Hogwarts and Hogsmeade are the last places you need to be. What if someone were to see you?"
"Then what to do, Remus?"
"Honestly, I think our hands are tied in this matter."
"What to tell Harry?"
"To be cautious, definitely."
"I think if Harry knew to alert Hermione and us that he knows to be on guard."
"I pray so."
Sirius picked up the quill and wrote for a moment. Reattaching the parchment to Hedwig's leg, he sent her off.
"What did you write?"
"Just some advice, Remus. Just some really good advice."