Harry Potter and the Golden Bell 2: Secrets of the Bell
Chapter 1
Escaping Again

A/N: (eats Goldfish crackers) mmmmm
Disclaimer: I wish I owned it, but sadly, I don't.
another A/N since the other one was pointless: This is following year six and in the summer. So this is the sequel to Harry Potter and the Golden Bell, and if you haven't read that one, do so before reading this. I like this idea, so READ!

August 6, 1997

Harry Potter sat quietly and cramped in his wardrobe one night at eight o' clock PM, his fingers wrapped around a black flashlight that had been purchased at the store downtown where everything was skimpily priced. The cheap residents of the town shopped there, in hope of finding a cheap price on things that the larger stores priced expensively, when it cost that store a small amount of money to make in the first place.

Harry held a book in his other hand. It was one of the many literature books that were in his possession. This one had been from Hermione, sent to him for his seventeenth birthday. His other friends had sent him gifts as well. Ron had sent Harry a load of sweets and a few glass bottles full of butterbeer along with a pair of boxers with tiny golden snitches embroidered onto them. The snitches flitted their wings, flying around the navy blue cloth at all hours of the day, even while lying in the bottom of one of the drawers of Harry's small dresser. The candy that had come with the present had been put to good use too, especially now, whilst he sat reading in his closet, and chewing on a large orange hunk of 'Madame Gardener's Simply Scrumptious Saltwater Taffy.'

The book that Hermione had sent was about dangerous magical creatures, such as dragons and giants, and was entitled: Known Magical Creatures From the Year 1892 Forward. It was very interesting and very long, thus making it contain over 824 pages. Harry had also gotten a few chocolate frogs from Neville, and a poem and a box of chocolates from Luna. He had almost sprayed the butterbeer from Ron that he was drinking, all over Dudley the morning he read her poem.

Fred and George had sent a small model of the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts. This model had plastic figures of the whole Gryffindor team on their broomsticks, the figures flying about the Pitch, and getting hit by bludgers now and then, just like a real game. Harry's plastic figure was making laps around the stadium, holding up the shining golden snitch proudly, the rest of the school also moving and cheering in the stands for him. Harry had looked for Ron and Hermione in the stadium, and when he had found them, he smiled. He missed them both, what with Hermione only coming back at the end of the school year, only to see Harry for all of a few days before he had to be sent back to the Dursley's lovely abode on Privet Drive.

Mrs. Weasley had sent him another sweater. This one had many different blues all knitted together, with a big yellow H on the front. All of these, of course, came with a long letter about the happenings in the wizarding world.

Anna-Nicole's present was that of a large book of romance poems. Harry had thumbed through the gigantic book, reading poems with titles that caught his eye. Most of them were fluffy, some sweet, but all and all the book was just a thoughtful gift.

The Dursleys didn't give Harry a toothpick this year for his birthday. This was usually his gift for Christmas also, along with every other holiday there was, and Harry was beginning to think this was a hint, so he started brushing his teeth more often. He guessed that it paid off because each member of the stuck up family had given Harry their own present. Dudley had given Harry his old Playstation, as his parents had bought him a Playstation 2 for his birthday. The gift had come with a single game bearing the title: Captain Young's Great Adventure and according to the summary on the back, it was for children four to eight years old. The game found itself in the trash can seconds after it found itself in Harry's hands. Aunt Petunia also gave Harry a book entitled: How to Decorate Your Sun Room in 10 Easy Steps and since Harry didn't have a Sun Room, this found itself buried deep under some laundry in the corner of his room. Uncle Vernon, however gave Harry some flowery barrettes with a note saying: "You won't have to use these anyway because you'll be getting a haircut from your aunt real soon. I can assure you that. -Vernon".

Tonks and Lupin sent Harry a present from the both of them. It was a golden snitch with his name engraved into it: Harry James Potter. This went straight into his Hogwarts trunk.
Hagrid even sent a present. It was a statue of Harry, carved out of wood. According to the letter that was enclosed with it, he had gotten into wood carving and decided that that was what he was going to get Harry. Cho had even sent something...it was only a letter, but it was enough for Harry. He wasn't used to many presents anyway.

Harry jumped at the sound of a loud rock beat from across the street. A family had moved into the house, and were having a party to celebrate. The Dursleys were not fond at all of them, because of their...interesting personalities. The man of the house, Mr. Allen Greenfield stood a little under six feet and was a bit plump, but of course not as much as Vernon Dursley. He had only a few long strands of hair left on the sides of his head, which he gelled together and crossed over his bald, polished head. He was about 45 years old. The woman, Mrs. Helga Greenfield was a little more chubby, with short curly brown hair. She had a large bosom and wore tons of makeup, and also about 45 years of age. They had a sixteen year old daughter, Alice, and a 10 year old son, Jeffrey. Alice complained all the time about her parents and life as a teenager, and about leaving her friends in the town a few towns away. She also complained about not being able to wear makeup, and not being able to have a boyfriend until she was twenty. Harry thought this humorous, of course, because she didn't have squat to complain about, compared to his problems. Jeffrey was a little demon and took everything from Alice. Once he had taken a picture of the boy that she fancied back in their old town and drew all over it. The argument could be heard very clearly from across the street, and Harry sat near his bedroom window listening for something to do that day.

The family had moved in on August first. They had planned the party the day after and invited everyone on Privet Drive, and were a bit disappointed when the Dursley family had turned down the invitation.

Harry switched off his flashlight, and pushed the door open of his closet, and stepped out, holding his book, thumb wedged between the pages of the spot he had left off. He went over to the window, set down his book, pages down, on his desk, and pushed up the glass frame. He then stuck his head out, to see the house, lit up like a jack-o-lantern, with colored lights coming from the backyard. It was very much contrasted with the square houses on the street, all equally lit, some with all lights off. Those families, most likely, were attending the party. Harry heard a simultaneous pop and a scream, then laughs and a fizzle, indicating that someone had just opened a bottle of wine. The loud music was blasting, a bit muffled by the distance of the stereo, and the faint breeze blowing the sound around in the air. It was blowing onto Harry's face now and he closed his eyes. He felt weightless now, the wind gently touching him. He lost all thoughts, and the music stopped, leaving him in peace for a few moments...

Click, Click. Harry turned his head and saw the doorknob turning, and the locks on his door opening. Someone was coming into his room. He tiptoed silently to his light switch, turned off the light, and closed himself back in his closet. The door opened and Vernon tramped in, and turned on the light. He looked around the small room and scowled as Hedwig hooted quietly at him from her cage.

"Where are you?" Harry's Uncle's voice boomed across the room, the sound bouncing off the walls and echoing slightly. "Come out, come out where ever you are." He walked to the bed, kneeled down with difficulty, and flipped up the blankets so he could get a view of under the bed. No Harry.

"You're here somewhere. There aren't many places to hide." He stood up again with a grunt, and looked at the wardrobe, then stepped over to it and pulled at the handle. Harry made a quick move to the other side, now standing. Vernon scowled again and closed that door, then opened the other one. Harry moved again. This went on a few more times when finally, Vernon did the common sensical thing and opened both doors at once. Harry stood there like a deer under headlights for a few seconds, while Vernon gazed menacingly at him from outside of the closet. He finally seized the front of Harry's shirt and pulled him out of it.

"What were you doing in there, boy?" Vernon sneered.

"Reading. And getting away from yours, Aunt Petunia's and Diddy-Dums's ugly faces," Harry retorted pompously. His uncle's right eyeball bulged in its socket and his lumpy face tinted purple.

"Your aunt will be here any minute," he said in a softer voice.

"Oh, we're having Marge over again," Harry said smirking to himself. He wasn't afraid of any of the Dursleys anymore and he just thought of the whole family as a joke and merely laughed when any of them got mad at him. He hated living there, but he acted like he liked it most of the time to make his "family" mad.

"No," said Vernon, "Your mother's sister, Elizabeth. I told you this last night after meeting those people across the street in their house." It was easy to tell that the man was getting more and more frustrated by his nephew's blank reaction. Though it was blank, however, Harry was deep in thought. He was told, years ago, and repeatedly following that, that the Dursley family were his only living relatives. Why couldn't he have gone to stay with Elizabeth?

"And how did she treat my mum?" He asked, finally, hoping to get a good answer out of his uncle.

"Exactly how I treat you."

"Muggle or Wizard?"

"What do you think?"

"Brilliant. Can you please let go of me now?" Vernon uncurled his pudgy fingers from the black fabric that was Harry's T-shirt. The music from across the street started again and he grabbed at the bits of hair on his balding head, that he had left.

"When will it cease?" He grumbled, waddling over to the window. He stuck his large head out and shouted at the neighbors.

"TURN OFF THAT BLOODY NOISE! BEFORE I COME OVER THERE AND STOMP ON YOUR HEADS!" Well, that's welcoming, Harry thought, I'm sure I'd love to hear that nonsense when I first move into my house. Once the large man was finished yelling at the neighbors, he pulled his head out of the window and went over to Harry, shaking a chubby finger in front of his face.

"I expect to see you downstairs in under a minute. If I don't see you there, you're going to lose some privileges."

"What privileges do I have already?"

"Downstairs. You have thirty seconds," said Vernon ignoring the last remark. He made for the door and stopped when he got there. "And brush your hair!" he added, then went downstairs.

"Okay, Vern," said Harry off-handedly.

"DON'T CALL ME VERN!" Harry shook his head. He looked at himself in his tiny cracked mirror on the wall of his room and to him, he looked fine. Equipped with his golden snitch boxers underneath his jeans, he opened his door and went downstairs.
His aunt hadn't arrived at Number Four yet, and really, Harry was quite interested in this aunt, who he didn't even know existed. She was one of his mother's sisters, and maybe, just maybe, Uncle Vernon had exaggerated a bit when he talked about how she had treated his mother Lily.

---::---

Harry descended the stairs and saw Dudley playing with his Playstation, which was actually now Harry's, as it was his birthday gift, in the living room.

"Isn't that mine now, Duddums?" he asked, unaware of the name for his cousin that had just come out of his mouth. He was quite used to calling him everything other then Dudley, and he hadn't for about a week now, or most likely, for a longer period than that. He had said this, while making sure that his aunt and uncle stayed in the conversation that they were in, about what was on the television.

"Quiet. I'm trying to concentrate. You're not helping," said Dudley, deep in the video game.

"Can I play? There are two controllers, you know." Harry said conversationally. In reality, he didn't want to play, but he liked tormenting his cousin and making him lose concentration when he was trying extremely hard not to; it was hard for him to concentrate at times. Almost always, in fact.

"No!" exclaimed Dudley, probably not knowing how loud that he had said it, his temper rising and his last particle of patience getting sucked into the game. Harry walked in front of the living room television screen, stepping over the cords, to the other controller, lying on the floor less than a foot away from Dudley. He had lost track of where his airship had drifted because Harry had been in the way, an explosion was heard from the speakers, and when Harry moved out of the way, large capital letters spelling: GAME OVER flashed onto the screen.

"Now look what you did!" shouted Dudley, throwing his controller to the floor in front of him.

"It was bound to happen anway," said Harry, standing up straighter, as he had been bending over to get the second controller, "Your shields were close to nothing."

"You're close to nothing," grumbled Dudley. Harry narrowed his eyes at his cousin. The doorbell rang, closely followed by Aunt Petunia, fluffing her hair and walking into the living room.

"Don't quabble, you two. I don't want you to embarrass me in front of my own sister," she said, glaring, to them as she passed. Vernon followed his wife from the kitchen and unplugged the TV from the wall. Dudley's mouth dropped open as he watched the screen blacken. He looked up at his father, who stood, swinging the plug around in his hand. Harry smiled and chuckled a bit. This time his uncle hadn't done something that angered him so. He wasn't so happy when Vernon caught him laughing, though. His eyes widened and he growled at Harry, "I thought I told you to brush your hair!"

"You did," said Harry back, the smile faded off his face. Before Vernon could say anything in response, Petunia's excited voice could be heard from the foyer. Moments later, her sister walked into the living room, Petunia following her.

"Welcome, Elizabeth, to our home. You haven't seen me since i got married - this is Vernon, and our lovely son Dudley."

"Hello," said Vernon, a smile growing on his face. He shook Elizabeth's hand while Petunia looked at Dudley.

"Say hello, Dudley, don't be a prick, now."

"Uh..hi," Dudley muttered, heaving himself off the ground and to his feet.

"My word...is that Harry? Lily's son?" inquired Elizabeth.

"Yes," said Petunia vaguely, "Yes it is, would you come sit down on the couch? I'll bring out some coffee and the hors deurvres. Do you take cream and sugar?"

"Yes, that would be fine. So, how old are you now, Harry?" asked Elizabeth, sitting down. Uncle Vernon's left eye bulged at the friendly conversation between the two and he tensed up immensely.

"He turned seventeen at the end of last month," Vernon said gruffly.

"The boy can talk, let him answer." Vernon's hands curled into fists and he went into the kitchen for a heated conversation with Petunia. Dudley peeked through the door, grabbed the plug of the TV, and plugged it back in, continuing to play his video game.

"So, are you going to Hogwarts next year?" Harry nodded. "Seventh year," he said timidly.

"Are you now? I always liked that magic stuff. Your mother oftentimes scared mum and Petunia with it," said Elizabeth chuckling a bit, "She was good at it - not much for personality, but she was a good witch, she was."

"How much cream do you take, Elizabeth?" asked Petunia from the kitchen.

"Just a drop, Petunia, I like it strong. And two cubes of sugar. Come sit down, Harry." She patted the cushion next to her and Harry sat there.

"What do you mean, "not much for personality"?" asked Harry, curious. He didn't know much about his mother, just a load about his father, and he was anxious to squeeze information about her from any possible suspect that he could talk to.

"Well, your mother was real stuck up, she was. Couldn't make up her mind about anything. I guess she had a fair amount of friends at that school, but no one in the Muggle world. All that kept me close to her was the witchcraft. And you know, after she met that James, she got more ditzy that she used to be. Falling over things, stumbling on the stairs. I don't know. Thank you, Petunia." Aunt Petunia had come into the living room with two mugs of coffee, giving her sister one. So...that was it, was it? If Harry's mum hadn't have been a witch, Elizabeth wouldn't have spoken to her at all. He thought about this for a few seconds, before a large hand slammed down on his shoulder. Uncle Vernon, who had obviously come out from the kitchen, left eye twitching madly, had done it. Harry put his hand on that shoulder and looked at his uncle behind him.

"Go wash up," he snarled, his nostrils flaring briefly. Really, he looked menacing now. It was probably the talk of magic in his house that was affecting him. Harry nodded and took for the bathroom.

---::---

"Have you heard anything from Violet, Petunia?" Elizabeth asked her sister. Who's Violet? thought Harry, Some other relative of mine that I've never heard of? Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Harry, Dudley, and Elizabeth were all sitting at the dinner table, no one talking until Elizabeth had piped up. Harry looked at his water glass. The contents were sloshing around a bit, the loud beat coming from next store was shaking the entire house. The table was also moving about its spot in the rug every time the beat sounded; it was vibrating the rest of the time. The lamp on the ceiling was swinging back and forth slightly and creaking faintly on its chain. Uncle Vernon was clutching the bottom of his chair with his left hand as though he were going to fall off of it at any given time; his right hand stayed gripping the serving spoon that went to the mashed potatoes, his eyes bugging and his mustache twitching.

"No...not - not recently," answered Aunt Petunia, twirling her spaghetti on a silver fork. "V-Vernon? Can you please pass the mashed - "

"I am SICK and tired of these rotten people!" exclaimed Uncle Vernon finally, raising from his seat. The family members seated at the table all jumped a bit. "Coming to our house late at night, and at odd hours of the day! Their loud party across the street! I've had enough!" Harry looked from his uncle to the hook on the ceiling that was holding the chain that the lamp hung from. The top link of the chain was moving so much that the hook screwed into the ceiling was beginning to bend under the weight.

"Um...Uncle Vernon," started Harry, looking back to his uncle, who ignored him completely.

"I am going over there right now to straighten things out!"

"Vernon, don't make a scene," said Aunt Petunia under her breath.

"I'm going to make a scene, Petunia! Those people have been - "

"Uncle Vernon!" Harry cried.

"WHAT?" He looked at the lamp when Harry pointed. It slipped from its hook and came tumbling down towards the table.

"CATCH IT!" shouted Uncle Vernon, as Petunia shrieked. But it was too late; the lamp had fallen straight into the bowl of mashed potatoes. Dudley screamed as well and sunk down in his chair as if hiding. Vernon let the serving spoon slip from his hands. Harry took the lamp out of the bowl and set it on the table. He picked up the bowl of potatoes and held it to his chest, so that the contents were pointing outwards. He then took his wand from his denim jacket he was wearing.

"Accio Glass," he said. he dropped his wand on the table and held onto the other side of the bowl with his right hand as the little pieces of glass flew from the table, one by one into the bowl. Aunt Petunia gave another high pitched shriek while Dudley whimpered and Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand - concealing a smile. Once all the glass was in the green mashed potato bowl, Harry set it on the table beside the broken glass lamp. There was only a short silence, and then Vernon shouted.

"I THOUGHT YOU WEREN'T ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC OUTSIDE OF THAT FREAK SCHOOL OF YOURS, BOY!"

"He's going into his seventh year," said Elizabeth calmly, "He can now." Uncle Vernon's face turned a light purple and he went over to Harry.

"Do you remember two summers ago when I told you to 'get out'?" he growled. Harry nodded. "And you couldn't because the messages sent with those owls?" Harry again nodded.

"WELL MAKE UP FOR THAT SUMMER AND GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" he yelled in Harry's face, who winced slightly.

"GO SOMEWHERE! ANYWHERE, I DON'T CARE! NOT HERE! JUST LEAVE! AND WE DON'T WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU OR YOUR BLASTED OWLS EVER AGAIN! EVER! DO YOU HEAR? NOW GO!" Harry stumbled out of his seat and glanced at Elizabeth, who looked a bit disappointed.

"Goodbye," he said politely. Vernon took a sharp intake of breath and screamed over Elizabeth's quiet "goodbye."

"NO GOODBYES! GET OUT! OUT, OUT, OUT!" He snatched up Harry and carried him to the stairs. "Now pack up your things and go. I do not want to see you on our stoop ever again. I don't want you to step foot in this household ever in the future. I've put up with your tosh since you were a year old and I'm not putting up with it any longer! Take all of your belongings and your big white ball of feathers and leave us alone." Harry shot up the stairs and began packing. He dragged out his Hogwarts trunk and threw everything into it. He shouldn't leave, but he had to. It was time. The Dursleys didn't care about him at all and there was no point in staying just to be abused while he could be in his world in a house with his parents, who wouldn't have been killed by Voldemort. If that hadn't have happened, Harry wouldn't be famous, nor would he have a scar, and nor would he have Voldemort chasing after him. He would be going to Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione and staying over their houses during the summer. He wouldn't have had to ever lay his shoes on Privet Drive. It was a good choice anyway. How much had they helped them when he had had his dream? How much did they care?

---::---

A few minutes later, Harry dragged his trunk and carried Hedwig in her cage down the stairs and went back into the dining room. He looked at Aunt Petunia when he got there.

"What?" she asked, trying to sound frightening, but was choked up instead, "You heard your uncle. Go." Harry turned to Elizabeth. "It was nice meeting you." She nodded and smiled a bit. Harry lugged everything out of the door onto the doorstep and looked across the street at a yelling Uncle Vernon. He was yelling at who looked like Mrs. Greenfield. Harry smiled to himself. They won't see me again, anyway, Harry thought. He walked across the street and stepped up beside his uncle.

"Hello," he said.

"I know you do. It's just - Harry!" exclaimed Mrs. Greenfield in mid-sentence. She, unlike everybody in Muggle England, but for a few exceptions, liked Harry. Vernon's head snapped to look in his nephew's direction.

"What are you doing here?" he snarled, trying to sound more like an unhappy parent, rather than his usual deranged englishman.

"Just came to say goodbye."

"I don't want a goodbye!"

"Not to you." Harry looked at Mrs Greenfield. "Goodbye," he said.

"Well, where are you going?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. Vernon tensed up and went pale. If anyone on the perfect street found out that the Dursleys were mistreating Harry, they'd be completely shunned by the families on the street. They were very worried about this.

"Well, I seem to have been kicked out."

"Kicked out?" She looked at Vernon, who looked as if he was about to strangle Harry, and he would have, if it hadn't have been for Mrs. Greenfield. "You kicked this poor boy out of your house? When he has no where to go? WHAT IS THE MEANING OF IT? WHY WOULD YOU COMMIT SUCH AN ACT?"

"Goodbye, Mrs. Greenfield," said Harry, as Vernon looked at him scowling.

"You little snitch," he said faintly. Mrs. Greenfield continued shouting at Vernon, as Harry smiled a bit and began walking down the street. He walked for a long time, until he found a bus shelter. He moved underneath the roof of it and sat down on the cold bench. A few seconds later, it began raining. Harry opened his trunk, got out some parchment and a quill pen, and wrote:

Dear Ron,
It seems I have been booted out of the Dursleys and I am sending this to you in hope of some relief from your family. If you could please come down here some time soon to the bus stop at the corner of Bradley and Greeves to pick me up, I would greatly appreciate it. I expect a response. Thanks, mate.
-Harry
P.S. Write Hermione and tell her to come with you. If she can't, just make sure she's at the Burrow when you come back with me.

Harry rolled up the paper and tied it to Hedwig's leg with some scrap string.
"Take that to Ron and make sure he writes a response as soon as he gets it. Get there quick, Hedwig, I'm counting on you." Harry patted his owl's head, pulled out some owl treats, fed one to Hedwig, who hooted happily and sailed off through the rain. He put everything back into his trunk and closed it, then hugged himself to keep warm. Lightning flashed across the sky, and he realized he was all alone without Hedwig. All alone until he got a response back from his best friend.

A/N: Kind of long, but you'll see where it goes...The next chapter is back a few days, so you know what had been happening.