Chapter One: The New Wizard in The Neighborhood…
"So…" Uncle Vernon asked.
Harry suddenly snapped back to reality. He hadn't noticed how quiet it was.
"Sorry?"
"I said so," said Uncle Vernon as the color began to rise in his face.
This was so unlike him, Harry thought. He didn't want to talk about it with anyone, especially Uncle Vernon.
"So, what?"
"Forget it!" He said and he put his foot on the accelerator.
The journey home was quiet. If it wasn't, Harry didn't notice. His thoughts once more drifted towards Sirius: Sirius' face; Sirius' laughter but most of all Sirius' death.
"Get out boy!" Uncle Vernon screamed. "What are you waiting for?" Harry got out of the car. His body carried him unconsciously to his bedroom. He then lay on top of his bed and for the first time in a long time he slept a dreamless sleep.
The next morning the sound of Hedwig hooting woke him up. Her feathers were ruffled and she looked annoyed. Harry saw another owl outside the closed window. He got up and opened it; the owl flew in and landed gracefully on top of the bed. There was a letter attached to its leg. Harry took the letter from the tawny owl and started to read:
Dear Harry,
How are you doing? I know that you're anxious to get away from Privet Drive and so I asked Dumbledore whether you could come and stay with the Order. He said it was possible but first we have to solve some problems with the Headquarters. I'll send you an owl as soon as I can.
Sincerely,
Remus Lupin.
The Dursley's didn't bother Harry anymore. Perhaps Harry was so dead inside that he no longer noticed anything around him. For days Harry had not moved much from his spot. He would lie all day on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Occasionally he would get up to go to the bathroom, and sometimes to eat. He had lost sense of time but he didn't care.
On a beautiful summer day, Harry was lying on the bed. Sweat covered his face and made the bed covers stick to his body. He hadn't combed his hair since he arrived at Privet Drive. If someone didn't know any better, you would think he was homeless, but of course he wasn't. Then he heard a tapping against his window. He slowly turned his head without sitting up. Mrs. Figg was there, staring back at him Mrs. Figg was waving at him, obviously irritated. Mrs. Figg had climbed a ladder to get to him.
"Harry, are you all right?" Asked Mrs. Figg quickly when he opened the window.
Harry stared at her. Her voice sounded as if she was very far away. It took a long time for the question to sink in. It had been a long time since someone had spoken to him. Harry nodded his head.
"Yes…what are you doing here?" Asked Harry scratching his head.
Mrs. Figg gave him an exasperated look and then sighed.
"Well, at least you are alright. You had us all worried. We hadn't heard from you since you left the platform. Remember what Moody said about checking on you if he had no news from you? I guess not. Remember to write. Wait, no! You can't do that, it's too dangerous. Well, at least write to me so I know you are fine," finished Mrs. Figg.
Harry rubbed his head sleepily. His jet-black hair was sticking up.
"Sure…I forgot. I'll remember from now on," said Harry.
He honestly had completely forgotten about what Moody said; that if he hadn't heard from him for three days straight, he was going to send someone to check on him. He was too busy drowning in his self-pity. Mrs. Figg nodded and continued to climb down the ladder. Harry left the window open. It was a humid summer day. Perfect conditions for Quidditch practice. Harry turned around and saw his Firebolt against the wall, next to the wardrobe. Of course, I can't possibly go out and practice, thought Harry. One: I am in a muggle inhabited area. So unless I wanted to be expelled from Hogwarts flying was out of the question. Two: There was that minor detail of Lord Voldemort, who was back in full power and desperate to get his hands on me.
Harry threw himself onto his bed rather unceremoniously. Soon, the heat made him drowsy and he fell asleep.
The next morning, Harry decided that it was best to get some fresh air rather than sulk. Dudley was just passing Harry's room and he stopped in his tracks, this was a difficult thing to accomplish since Dudley was even fatter than he was last summer.
"So you finally decided to come out, huh?" Dudley said mockingly. Harry just stared at him and continued to walk towards the bathroom.
"Still calling for your mummy and daddy in your sleep Potter?" Harry heard him shout right before he slammed the bathroom door shut.
He turned to look at himself in the mirror. Harry's face looked pale and was considerably thinner. His scar seemed even more prominent than usual. Harry undressed slowly and got into the shower. He let the water fall over him.
Flashes of what happened that night in the Department of Mysteries came forward in mind. Harry felt a twinge from his scar so he slapped his hand over his forehead. He told himself not to worry. It was bound to hurt more lately, now that Voldemort was back and even more furious than before. Once again, he, Harry Potter, had managed to escape from right underneath his nose. Harry rested his brow against the wall. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about Sirius. He found himself instead thinking about Ron and Hermione. He missed them already and they had spent no more than a week apart. Harry finished his shower, dressed and headed for his room. Luckily Dudley had already left. Harry was not in the mood to entertain.
Harry grabbed a comb from the top of his bedside table. He unsuccessfully tried to comb his unruly hair flat, but it kept sticking up. He looked outside; it was another beautiful, sunny day. Harry realized that he needed a walk after such a long time in his room. He didn't think he would encounter Voldemort or any of his followers. Voldemort wouldn't risk coming out in the day… or at least I hope not. Then he made his way downstairs, it seemed like the Dursleys had left the house and didn't bother to tell Harry where were they going and what time they would return, as usual.
He walked knowingly to his favorite spots in the neighborhood: down Magnolia Crescent; passed Magnolia Road until he reached the play park. Harry jumped over the locked gate. The park was empty, as standard. He directed himself towards the only unbroken swing. He sat there staring at the floor, the sun burning on his back and neck. Sweat started to trickle down his neck and face. Then voices broke the silence. Harry looked up to see Dudley and his gang cornering a small skinny boy.
"What did you say!" Dudley bellowed.
Harry stood up from his swing but did not take a step forward. He could see the boy looking up at Dudley defiantly.
"I said: You're not the boss of me!" The small boy shouted.
Harry saw Dudley swell up in size. He was about to strike. Harry quickly made his way across from the park to where the commotion was happening. Dudley raised his fist. The boy closed his eyes.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," threatened Harry.
Dudley turned around at the sound of the familiar voice. He was grinning, but it soon disappeared when he saw that Harry had his wand firmly in his right hand. But then he smiled again.
"You can't. You're not allowed." Dudley's gang looked from Harry to Dudley then at each other; ignorant of what the two boys were talking about. Harry smiled.
"Well, with Voldemort's return I don't think I'll be going back to Hogwarts."
Harry looked around, it was odd saying the name of the darkest sorcerer known to the wizarding world and not hearing shrieks, hisses and gasps from those surrounding him. Dudley stared back and snarled.
"This has nothing to do with you, Potter," he growled.
"Leave him alone, or I'll tell your mum what you've really been up to."
Dudley's face paled. He opened his mouth a couple of times as if to say something in his defense but closed it again.
"And I don't think she'll like the truth, to be honest," Harry smirked.
Dudley turned away from Harry and faced the boy who was still crouching on the floor between the rubbish bins.
"Don't think you've got away with it, Evans. Nobody crosses me. I'll get you next time!" snarled Dudley, and with a grunt he and his gang walked down the dark alleyway and disappeared.
Harry helped the boy up. He observed him now that he was close enough. The boy was small and skinny but Harry saw that his face was a healthy color. He had untidy dark brown hair and hazel eyes.
"Th-th-thanks," the boy managed to stutter.
The boy looked down at his trousers and groaned when he saw the stains on his knees.
"My mum's going to kill me. That'll never come out."
Harry smiled.
"I'm Mark Evans by the way," the boy said stretching his hand towards Harry. Harry shook it.
"I'm Harry Potter."
Evans beamed at him. Harry thought he saw Mark take a fleeting glance at his scar. He looked down at his feet then looked up at Harry, obviously concerned about something.
"You're going to get in real trouble now," he said quietly.
Harry frowned then laughed; "With Dudley? I highly doubt that!"
"I don't know how to repay you," said Evans.
"Don't worry about it."
"How about coming home for dinner? My mum won't mind," added Mark hopefully.
Harry fidgeted. He didn't think that was such a good idea but he didn't know how to let him down gently.
"I can't…I have to do some stuff at home," lied Harry.
"Oh…"Mark's face fell.
"Well, my house is just that one over there," he pointed to the third house down the block, "You can stop by anytime you like. Maybe next time you can stay for dinner."
"Well…I must be going now," said Harry.
Mark nodded, "Okay…night."
"Night. See you around," said Harry and turned to walk back home.
He turned around to see if Evans was still there but he was nowhere in sight. Whilst Harry continued walking an owl flew towards him. He cocked his head to see if he recognized it, the owl had to be for him. Raising his arm so the owl could land, the owl flew over him. Harry turned to look where it was going. He saw it swoop over a house and drop a letter down its chimney. He looked to see what house it was. Harry's eyes opened wide. It was the third house in the block. Mark Evans' house.
"No way!" He exclaimed out loud.
He was about to walk up to Mark's house when he swore he heard a hiss coming from behind him. Harry quickly spun around and whipped his wand out of his trouser pocket.
"Put that thing away!" The voice whispered.
Harry recognized that voice. He quickly put away his wand and smiled. Harry turned around looking for where the voice had come from.
"Tonks? Is that you? Where are you?" He asked.
He was pulled by the arm through the bushes and fell next to Tonks, who was kneeling on the ground.
"Got ya, Harry!" Tonks squealed brightly.
She had long blonde curly hair this time. Harry thought that this was her best look yet. It was nice to see a kind, familiar face.
"Tonks, what are you doing here?" He asked breathlessly.
"Well, you think we were going to let you wonder about unguarded? Especially now that You-Know-Who is furious and after you!" Tonks said.
Harry's smile disappeared. Tonks' comment put a damper on his day.
"Well no, I guess not," Harry replied.
Then it occurred to Harry that maybe Tonks knew something about that boy, Mark Evans.
"Hey Tonks, I got to ask you something. Do you know the Evans family? They live a couple of houses down from here," he asked eagerly.
Tonks tugged a strand of her blond hair and shook her head; "Not a clue," she finally said.
Harry nodded. I'll stop by his house tomorrow.
"Why?" Tonks asked curiously.
"No reason."
"Well, maybe we should be heading back to your house, Harry," said Tonks wearily. "It's going to get dark soon."
Harry looked at the sky. She was right. The sun was already going down. Harry nodded and walked out to the sidewalk from behind the bushes. Tonks followed him all the way home underneath the invisibility cloak. Harry got to the door and stopped.
"Good night, Tonks," he whispered to the dark.
"Night," said Tonks from the shadows.
Harry turned the doorknob and walked into the house. There was no one home. A note was left on the kitchen table. It read:
We went out. Not that it is any interest to you. There is soup in the microwave, if you don't want it then starve!
Don't touch anything in the house, boy!
Vernon Dursley.
Harry walked up to the microwave and opened the door. There was indeed a bowl of canned soup. He closed the door and pushed some buttons on the microwave. The microwave beeped and Harry retrieved his bowl of soup. He sat at the dinner table stirring the noodles with a spoon. He lifted a spoonful to his mouth and almost dropped it.
Looking back at him from the bowl of chicken noodles was Sirius' face.
Harry blinked and it was gone. He turned his head around so quickly he cricked his neck. But no one was there. I must be going mad, thought Harry. Then he decided he wasn't so hungry after all. Harry yawned and thought that his sleepiness is what made him see Sirius so he decided to get some shut-eye.
He dreamt that he was in Mark Evans' house and that Sirius was Mark's father and Aunt Petunia was his mum. In his dream Harry was Mark Evans second cousin, twice removed. Then he woke up with a start. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight filtering through the window. That was an odd sort of dream, he told himself. Quite funny though. Then an owl flew through the open window and landed on Harry's stomach. It was a letter. Harry unrolled the scroll and read:
Harry,
Dumbledore says that you can come to the Headquarters now. Tonks, Moody and I will pick you up tomorrow, around ten in the morning.
Sincerely,
Remus LupinThe news had boosted Harry's mood. It had given him something to think about besides Sirius. He wondered how they would travel to the Headquarters. Harry also wondered if Hermione and Ron would be there. He will tell the Dursleys about his departure tomorrow. That way they can't do anything about him leaving, not that they would want him to stay.
The next day Harry got up early and started to pack. It was ten o'clock already and the sun was already high over the clouds. It looked like another humid summer day. He sat on the bed with his eyes open and listened for any sign of their arrival. Harry was hoping they would arrive soon, before Uncle Vernon came back from the Grocery store. He didn't want any problems. Harry wanted to leave soon; with Voldemort's return no one was safe anymore, including members of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry looked at his watch. It read 10:10.
CRACK! Harry immediately ran down the stairs. On one side of the living room there were Tonks, Moody and Lupin. On the other side, clustered together against the wall, were Aunt Petunia and Dudley.
"Hiya, Harry," greeted Tonks.
Her hair was now boyishly short and neon green. Harry wondered if it glowed in the dark. Perhaps it did.
"How are you doing, Harry?" Moody questioned, he then turned to Tonks and ordered, "Why don't you get Harry's stuff?"
"Okay."
Moody's magical eye followed Tonks up the stairs while the normal one looked firmly at Harry. Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, one of the greatest Aurors of all time; however, he also happened to be one of the craziest. Maybe that was why Harry liked him. Moody stared at Aunt Petunia and smiled. Harry had never seen such an ugly smile. His smile, or at least what was left of it (he was missing a big chunk of his nose), lifted all the way up to his eyebrows. Aunt Petunia must have noticed this too because she gasped and backed away towards the wall. Not to mention the large, electric blue eye that could see through the back of his head. Tonks came down the stairs with Hedwig in the cage and Harry's trunk.
"Dumbledore managed to get the Headquarters connected to the Floo Network for today through one of the members of the Order," Moody informed and winked. Floo powder wasn't Harry's preferred way of traveling. He belonged on a broom, high in the air. It was too dangerous to travel that way nowadays. Another way would have been Apparating but he was underage, and a portkey required permission; one that would not be allowed without questioning. Harry walked into the fireplace. Moody took out a pot of Floo Powder from his cloak and handed it to Harry.
"Now Harry, all you have to say is: Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," Moody instructed.
Harry took a handful of powder. He let it fall and repeated Moody's words.
Green flames devoured him. Everything started to spin quickly. He watched hundreds of fireplaces flash by him. He closed his eyes trying not to become dizzy; instead he became nauseous. Suddenly he landed face first on the floor. He got up and tired to fix his glasses. Harry shook the dust from his trousers and jumper. He looked up and noticed that the rest of the crew had Apparated.
"Oh, Harry!" A voice said.
Harry was caught by surprise and almost tumbled over.
"Harry, dear, are you alright?" Asked a stout short woman with outrageously red hair. She released him from her grip. She stretched the skin on his face and grimaced.
"You look peaky, but I'll fix that right up."
"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley," he said.
She hugged him again. Harry had forgotten how good it felt to be hugged. He needed that. The silence was broken by loud screams coming from outside the room. Harry recognized the sound. He had heard it the last time he was here. It was the screams of Sirius' mum's portrait.
"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breed, mutants, freaks, impostors, be gone form this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers!"
All of a sudden, bursting through the door entered a short, black haired girl.
"Lupin, that ugly, old hag started screaming again and she won't shut up," she moaned.
"I'll take care of it," said Mrs. Weasley and left.
Lupin looked from Harry to the girl nervously.
"Harry, this is Catherina Black," said Lupin.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Harry Potter," she said as she shook Harry's hand.
Her contact sent shivers up his spine. He hadn't noticed when she came in, but now he couldn't stop looking. Her eyes, they were violet. Is that even possible? He thought. That wasn't the only thing Harry was thinking. Who is this girl? What is she doing here? But one thing bothered Harry very much. Did Lupin say Catherina Black? Black? Why does she have Sirius' last name?
