Harry Potter and the Concealment of the Prophecy

A bespectacled sixteen-year old teenage boy lay hidden behind enormous begonias and rhododendron plants on the sweeping lawn of Four, Privet Drive. The dark sky above was glittering with millions of stars, and the sun had finally disappeared beneath the horizon. Privet Drive was as deserted and silent as it had always been during the summer holidays. The streets were almost empty, with only a few cars rolling by every few hours. It was Harry Potter's sixteenth birthday today, but he didn't have the prospects of receiving any letters containing birthday greetings. There is a particular reason, however. First of all, it is because of the war. The second Wizarding World War. None of his friends are allowed to send any letters to Harry, for the Order of the Phoenix members assume that it would all go astray. Second of all, it is the growing threat of Lord Voldemort's come back – probably as powerful and more threatening than he had been fifteen years before. Third and the most painful of all, It was Sirius Black's death that bothered Harry throughout day and night. He usually found himself hidden in a safe place where no one would find him there, not even the Dursleys. The Dursleys were what wizards call Muggles, and not even they could help Harry with his personal problems. Even though he loathed the Dursleys and resists his stay for the summer holidays in Little Whinging, there was no way out of his situation. Dumbledore had explained everything to him one week ago – about the Prophecy's contents, and why the Dursley's home was the only place where he was safe. Harry didn't know much about the Prophecy, but Dumbledore reckoned he was really the only wizard to defeat Lord Voldemort.

The heavy weight in the pit of his stomach lessened after the terrible incident which occurred more than a week ago in the Department of Mysteries when the twelve Death Eaters attempted to snatch the Prophecy away from Harry and his friends. But luckily, they survived the battle – and he watched Dumbledore magnificently battle Lord Voldemort. Nevertheless, the twelve Death Eaters, (including Malfoy), was sent to Azkaban immediately. Everyone seemed triumphant at this news for the Wizarding World, but the smile on Harry's face faded when he knew about this terrible news…

That night while Harry lay still and silent behind his Aunt Petunia's dying begonias, a hooting noise sounded from somewhere above. Harry peeked out from the large leaves and watched a huge, barn owl soar above him and drop a roll of newspaper on his lap. It fluttered beside him and nibbled at his pocket. Ever since Harry had come from his fifth year at Hogwarts, he subscribed for the everyday delivery of the Daily Prophet, the Wizarding newspaper. He morosely dug into his pocket, took out a few K'nutz and dropped it inside a pouch tied around the owl's leg. It flapped it's wings with a loud hoot and disappeared into the pitch-black sky. Resentfully, Harry unfurled the newspaper and read the front page:

THIRTEEN DEATH EATERS ESCAPED FROM AZKABAN

Early this morning, our sources have been notified by the Magical Law enforcement

about the surprising escape from Azkaban by the Wizarding World's most wanted

criminals of today – the thirteen Death Eaters, who were arrested nearly two weeks

ago in the Department of Mysteries corridor, Ministry of Magic. Witnesses have

reported that they clearly saw the thirteen notorious criminals cast Imperius Curses

against the Dementors of Azkaban.

"This is absolutely terrible news – everyone must stay alarmed and notify the Ministry

if they see any of the Death Eaters, if possibly – capture them and bring them to the

Magical Law of Enforcement Office immediately – dead or alive." Fudge says bitterly

this afternoon. The Minister has yet again, has committed another failure regarding his

valuable position in the Ministry of Magic. Madam Amelia Bones, head of the Magical

Law of Enforcement has stated early this afternoon that she has got to act.

"The Ministry has got to act! Minister Cornelius Fudge has obviously failed in his plans

of keeping the most wanted criminals of the century in Azkaban – we must do something

about this! I have applied my report to the Prime Minister and the Wizengamot, who allegedly

agreed to arrange a court hearing with Mr. Fudge this week." Bones says.

For now, Mr. Fudge has refused interviews with the press, and suggested everyone to stay

inside their homes for safety and notify the Ministry incase anyone would receive information

regarding the thirteen Death Eater's narrow escape.

Harry sat speechless, and lowered the newspaper. This is it – so the Wizarding world could finally have the chance to change the position of Minister. Cornelius Fudge obviously has no other choice but to join the court hearing, since the whole Wizengamot and the Prime Minister already filed a demand for him. A smile crossed Harry's face – a smile of triumph. He remained silent there for a few more minutes, and was disturbed by a sudden familiar, crackling noise. One tense minute later, Harry saw enormous, goggling tennis-eyes balls peer through the wad of bushes, then –

"Dobby!"

The tiny houself stared at him with tears glistening in it's eyes. "What are you doing here?" Harry muttered, his heart pounding.

"Dobby has come to warn you –

Harry glared at him. "No Dobby – not now!" he glanced at the Dursley's front door to check if anyone was listening, but it was closed.
"Harry Potter – the Wizarding World is in grave danger!" squeaked the elf, cowering.
"I know that, Dobby – you don't have to tell me –

The elf closed in on him and whispered frantically, "Harry Potter is not safe! Not even in Hogwarts! Not now… n-now that He-who-must-not-be-named is back – more powerful – revengeful – terrifying!"

Harry gulped. He knew this all along, but the way Dobby warned him suddenly sent a chill down his spine. "I know, I know. But tell me, what is going on, now? How are my friends? The Order?" he asked. The elf hung its head.

"Dobby does not know – the only thing he knows is that everyone is in peril!" said Dobby, tears rolling down his cheeks. Harry was extremely irritated at this. He stood up, knocking the elf backwards and stomped flat-footed inside the house, where he saw all the Dursleys seated in front of the huge television. None of them gave attention to him as usual, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the newscaster speak.

"…And for our top headlines this night – 'Odd incidents occurred early this morning in certain places at once – Piccadilly, Hertfordshire, and Beacon Hill – hundreds of witnesses while strolling Piccadilly report that a strange knot of hooded people in broomsticks were soaring above the broad daylight sky. Witnesses have been brought to the nearest clinic for first aid after passing out at that exact moment. The same thing had happened in Hertfordshire and Beacon Hill minutes afterwards, where villagers saw strange cloaked figures soaring above the sky in broomsticks, huddled together and nonplussed, the witnesses immediately informed the press."

The three Dursleys sat horrified, and turned heads to Harry. On the other hand, Harry quickly dashed up to his room and locked the door. He slumped onto his bed and lay there for quite a while, staring into open space. The present events where slowly adding more heavy rocks sinking deep into his stomach – like a constant stomachache. The Wizarding World was really at war – even the muggles were noticing more odd coincidences around the vicinity. And Harry knew deep inside, this was just the beginning.