Disclaimer: Check first chapter for full disclaimer and other warnings.

Chapter 5 – Wandering

The departing morning of Hogwarts' summer holiday should be a capitalized sentence. Some of the most dallying students didn't even start to pack, thinking about doing it in the morning, and playing games instead. The problem was that these students often wake late too, and generally weren't sufficiently organized to pack in a heartbeat. In Ron's case, add this to the fact that he wasn't efficient when hungry, and you could understand the loud voice emerging from his dorm. And it wasn't his own.

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione was yelling at a shameful Ron, who was trying to close his trunk's lid, after an hour of frantic picking and storing. "How could you postpone packing this late! Everybody else is ready, and they even are eating right now." which wasn't quite true, because Harry and Ginny just arrived back from the breakfast a short time ago, and were now looking at the pair with a smirk. Still, the words made Ron react, and his stomach emitted a loud groan.

He cursed, and jumped on his trunk with both feet. That sure closed the offending luggage, but it also drew a big crack on it, too. And, judging by the sound of it, some more items might have broken inside. Ron paled and his eyes went wide at this, and he muttered "Mom is so gonna kill me."

But he quickly recovered at the notion of breakfast, and he threw himself through the doors, obviously on a quest to refill his stomach. Only the cutting remark from Ginny held him back. "Breakfast has been finished for 5 minutes before we got up here, Ron. No need to rush, there's no more food."

Nothing could have been more distressful for Ron than to miss a meal as important as breakfast. Well, perhaps except the end of the world. But the laughter in Ginny's voice, and the mischief present in the six eyes watching him, told him that something was amiss. Harry turned to Hermione, and seeming reluctant, gave her a galleon. Ron's eyes went wide again, then narrowed. "What are you all up to?"

"Well, you see..." began Hermione.

"We were sure you'd be late..." continued Harry after her friend's pause.

"So those two placed a bet this morning, when you were still asleep..." Ginny explained.

"About when you'd finish your packing." Hermione carried on.

"Pity, I thought you'd be able to reach breakfast, mate." Harry finished, and the three of them started to laugh while descending the stairs towards the Entrance Hall and the doors to the grounds.

After a short while, Hermione started again "Seriously, Ron, you could have played less yesterday, you'd have had the time to take a proper breakfast now."

Wanting to defend himself, Ron answered "But Harry played, too! Mate, I don't know how you or Dean managed..."

"Simple, Ron. Dean played before his packing, and I took his place after mine. I even had time to put some protection spells on the trunk, in case my nosy relatives want to have a look. Sorry to have kept you up to play though. To excuse myself, I give you this." and he took a Hogwarts-crested napkin from his pocket, and opened it tantalizingly in front of Ron. In it, a sandwich made of buttered toasts with bacon tugged at the redhead's stomach. Ron's eyes went wide again, and he started to drool.

"Urgh! Anyways, don't listen to him, Ron. The food wasn't his idea." Ginny continued, taking another full napkin from her pocket too, and showing Hermione with her other hand.

"Hermione?" Ron looked at her questioningly, while stealing glances over the sandwiches.

"What? I did bet you wouldn't be there! I knew for a fact that you wouldn't be able to be there on time! To back my bet, I asked those troublemakers to bring you food, as I know I haven't enough pockets to fill with sandwiches to satisfy your otherworldly appetite!" Hermione retorted, but her smile nullified the possible sting of her words. Taking in her appearance, a little large for her frame with bumps at the usual places for pockets, Ron realized that, while annoyed at him for being late, Hermione cared enough to bring him a whole meal in her pockets. And, as the old maxim said 'win the man through his stomach', Ron was won to Hermione for sure.

The morning sun welcomed the quartet as they passed through the huge gates to the crowded zone there. The house-elves had spent a large part of the morning collecting students' trunks and depositing them near the carriages, Ron's arriving last.

Seeing the group emerging from the entrance, Neville Longbottom, another second year Gryffindor, joined them.

"Hi" he started timidly.

"Hi there, Neville." They knew the boy from the previous year, when he had gathered all his courage to stand in their way.

"You mind if I get there with you? The other carriages are full already."

"No problem, Nev."

It was without second thoughts that they included the shy boy in their group. Harry, seeing the long queue for the carriages, took his owl out of her cage.

"Hiya, girl." Hedwig answered by hooting softly.

"I know that you don't like the trip in your little cage. You want to stretch your wings and go forward? I'll arrive at Privet Drive for lunch." The snowy owl nudged his ear, as if to thank him, hooted again, and took flight. 'Owls are really smart creatures,' Harry reflected, 'it's like speaking to a mute friend. But I wonder...'

"Hermione?" Harry wanted to continue his thoughts aloud, using his genius friend for information.

"Yes?"

"Do you know how owls can get every people's location in the world?"

Hermione thought back for a moment, before answering. "It's not clear, but I read somewhere that they can connect to people's perceived identity. The text was half-burnt, though."

"Huh?" was Ron's only answer.

"Care to elaborate for those of us who aren't as articulate as you?" continued Harry, smirking towards his dorm mate.

"I mean... you know you're Harry Potter, right?"

"Well... obviously!"

"So, this is your 'perceived identity'. As soon as you consider yourself to be Harry Potter, owls will find you. That's also why people who change names, like a married woman for instance, can be found using both names, because they consider themselves equally responding to both names."

"Errm... Hermione?" Neville started.

"Yes, Neville?"

"In case of... err... amnesia, what... ahem... what happen? I mean, you know, the owls and stuff... err..." Neville was stuttering now, lost in his own babbling.

"If we consider the theory true, people suffering from amnesia can't be reached by owls. Why the question?"

Startled, Neville looked up to her, his eyes shining, then blushed, and looked towards the forest, mumbling "Nothing, just asking."

After a long wait, they all found themselves in a departing carriage, surprisingly rejoined with Luna Lovegood, the airy Ravenclaw that welcomed Harry at breakfast after his week-long stay in the hospital wing. During the short trip to the train station, where the Hogwarts Express was waiting, Harry and Ron talked about Quidditch, even if Ron was more into eating his sandwiches. Question of priorities. Ginny held Harry's hand while she and Hermione looked at each other with amused smiles on their faces. Neville checked on his toad, and Luna stared at the sky with a dreamy expression.

Once on the station, after the unloading of trunks from the carriages and their loading into the train, the group of six students found themselves in the same compartment.

Ron, finally finishing the last crumbles of his last sandwich, spoke up again "Thanks for the breakfast, Hermione; it was the sweetest thing you could do to me."

Hermione blushed and muttered something.

Harry chuckled "I think she said 'anytime, dearest', Ron."

Hermione, though, didn't look pleased at all. "How could you say that, Harry?"

Ginny hid a smile behind her hand, and answered "You mean you didn't say 'get lost, you insufferable prat', like you always do?"

Hermione whirled towards Ginny and loudly answered "No! Not at all! I just said that I could do sweeter th..." seeing the expectant and smiling faces of Harry and Ginny, and Ron's shocked one, she realized that she had been had, and, blushing furiously, closed her mouth with a audible clomp. Pranks could be done without magic, too.

After a long while, the students mutely reflecting on the past, Ron broke the silence once again. Remembering the previous day, he exclaimed "How did you do it yesterday, Harry?"

"Did what?"

"Eat that much at the Feast. Properly. And without being as ill as I was just afterwards."

"I don't know about the 'properly' part, you will have to ask your mum." at that, Ron snorted and the others giggled. "But for the rest, I guess that, as I said, I had reserves to fill. But either they were completely depleted, or I'm now a black hole concerning food. I hope not, though..." he appeared to have something else to say after this, but fell in a silent frown. Ginny, understanding about the underfeeding he had suffered while at the Dursleys, calmed him by squeezing his hand.

"What's a black hole?" Ron asked, but judging from their faces, the other students without Muggle background were interested as well. That is, everyone except Hermione and Harry. Well, Luna, still looking through the window, didn't seem to be interested in the discussion at all. But you never knew with her. Despite her apparent lack of interest, she managed to insert her airy comment into it before Hermione could answer Ron's question.

"It's a rupture in the space-time continuum, Ron." She answered, then turned towards the other students, whose faces indicated their surprise at the explanation, either because it was true, which was surprising coming from Luna, or because they didn't understand it. "What?" she continued "It's a well-known fact that they can be used for time travel. My father found a time-traveller while hunting crumpled-horned snorksacks. Dad went to a pub where a contact was, and that other guy had very interesting stories to tell over his numerous beers." After a pause, during which Hermione's surprised face turned into a snort, she stood, adding "I'm going to the loo. Later."

She crossed the compartment, opened the door, and went through it, letting it open. Her move was not missed by Neville, who just kept looking with glazed eyes through the empty doorway. Neville's toad, noticing the slackness of his owner's hands, jumped towards the corridor.

"Trevor!" Neville snapped awake and got up, barely managing to cross the other students tangled legs and trunks before starting to search for his toad. Again.

Once Neville was out of the compartment, Harry decided to tell the other three about something. He quickly closed the door and turned to his friends with an intense expression.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, with a worried expression, elbowing Ron in the ribs. Blushing, Ron snapped out of the trance he had entered when Luna answered his question, five minutes before.

Ginny's face was unreadable, and Ron, after staring at Hermione, asked. "Yeah, mate, what?"

"I read a book."

A pause.

"Wow, Harry, I didn't know you could read, congratulations." Ron's voice was chirpy, and the laughter was near, but Harry's serious expression contained it. Hermione shot a discrete look towards Ginny, sensing a tough subject. Seeing the smirk caused by her brother's remark, she looked her squarely in the eyes, wondering.

"Okay, then. What about it?" Hermione asked.

"It's difficult to explain. See, Hermione, Ron, I wasn't unconscious because of the basilisk bite."

A pause.

"What?" both voices were worried.

"Yes," he continued, having their full attention now "After the whole Chamber affair, I stumbled upon Lucius Malfoy and Dobby, you know, their house-elf?" They nodded.

"Well, as Dobby was being mistreated, I planned to free him so I put a sock of mine in the diary, and went to give it back to Malfoy, who was still at Hogwarts for a hearing, hoping that he gives it to Dobby. But he and Dobby were going, and I was kind of portkeyed with them to Malfoy's place."

"WHAT?" this time, both his friends were clearly upset, but he didn't let them start to rant.

"Before you get angry, hear me out. I didn't exactly plan it that way, remember? Well, as I was landing there, I discovered that travelling through house-elf magic is really painful for the wizard involved. But I knew he wouldn't give me a pause, so I tried the plan immediately. I gave the diary back to him, and, as planned, he gave it to Dobby who then got freed. The problem is that the bastard was then enraged, and he tried his damnedest to kill me. I got hurt really bad, and escaped to their library. There, I don't know why, but he casts exploding curses everywhere, and the shelves fall everywhere. I got buried under countless tomes and without Dobby bringing me back to the hospital wing, I'd have died. I still had to recover for the whole week, and Dumbledore, while knowing the truth, hid it so that the bastard's family and friends would not go after me. At least not immediately. I don't even know if he's dead! The only two persons knowing that I wasn't recovering from the fight with the basilisk are Ginny... and you, Ron."

Startled, Ron seemed to think, and eventually looked back to Harry with a sad expression. "Mate, I'm sorry, really. I was worried with Ginny. We all were, and I assumed you had a backlash. I mean, Dumbledore said so, and it's not my place to contradict him. Well..."

Harry tried to ease the situation by answering "You're right. I should do that job. I like contradicting people." Even if nobody laughed outright, smiles found their ways towards the friends' faces.

"Back to the point." Harry continued "While I was in that library, bleeding everywhere, I noticed a book glowing red and gold, and I remember thinking 'Weird, Gryffindor colours at Malfoys' house' and I got hold of it just before Dobby brought me back."

Being her usual self, questing for knowledge, Hermione interrupted. "Did you read it? What does it say? Where is it? Can I see it?"

Harry shut her up by looking sharply at her, and then he answered. "Yes. Interesting stuff. In my trunk. No."

Hermione and Ron looked at him wide-eyed before remembering Hermione's questions. Ginny, sitting next to Harry, watched the whole exchange amusedly.

Harry chuckled lightly at the understatement he was about to make. He doubted that even Dumbledore knew about the research he had found in the book. And he planned for it to stay that way, at least until the end of summer vacation, in case he would need an extra leverage for staying out of the Dursleys' next year.

"That book was written by an ancestor of mine, and it explains all his research in magic. And I think that it's still pioneering today, as I didn't read anything remotely similar from the library. But Hermione can perhaps tell us more." He turned towards his bushy-haired friend. "Is there a common magical theory behind animagus and metamorphmagus transformations?"

This pushed Hermione into her knowledge-reporting mode, and everyone could see that she was very organized, because a mere five seconds later, she answered. "Nothing that I know, but I did not get into the Restricted Section. Perhaps it exists but is safely guarded. We should ask professor McGonagall for that. Harry, can you show me the book, please? If such information is that important, I want to be part of it."

Thoughtful for a moment in front of an agitated Hermione, Harry answered "Sorry, Mione, I actually can't. That ancestor made it so that only his descendants could read it. For you, it would look like an ordinary copy of... an ordinary book. But I plan to tell you everything about it, over the summer." He had no intention of divulging the pranks, though, but Hermione was right. If only one witch her age was entitled to essential knowledge, it was her. And, true to her reputation, she looked piercingly at Harry, and asked "Who is it?"

"Who what, Hermione?"

"Your ancestor?"

"I won't say, Hermione. It's really big stuff, and as it is, I still feel not worthy of his name."

"I've been prying him for a week." Ginny interrupted, "He wouldn't tell, even under torture."

Ron shot an enquiring look at his sister. "What torture, what do you mean? And you knew about all this for a week?"

Without a word, and without even releasing Harry's hand, Ginny bent towards Ron, and touched him precisely on the top of his hip, making him jump a foot into the air with a yelp. She then smiled proudly "Harry is very ticklish too, but he wouldn't tell anyway. He's more stubborn than ticklish." She finished with a pout.

Ron looked ready to explode, but Hermione contained him by whispering in his ear something he had already heard earlier this week. Harry shot them a curious glance and said aloud to Ginny, but towards the other couple "Ginny dear, it seems we are not the only ones sharing secrets here." The little comment succeeded in making the three other students there to blush to their hair. Ron and Hermione because they were starting to know each other well, and liked each other very much; and Ginny because of his choice of words. 'Dear', indeed! She held his hand a little tighter, and everyone fell back into a comfortable silence.

After a minute or so, Hermione couldn't stop charging again. "Is there?"

When it appeared that not everyone shared her train of thoughts, she expanded her question. "Is there a common ground to animagi and metamorphmagi?"

Harry sighed. He should have seen that coming. He looked up to check that the solid compartment door was closed, and looked back to her. Then Hermione saw a strange event occurring: Harry's hair gradually went from his natural black to a more dark red shade, and back. Harry then raised his hand, and everybody could see it transforming into a golden paw, with claws, and back again. He then simply answered "Yes" before sitting back, sweating. He had tried the first part of the book almost immediately, but the actual physical transformation was still difficult and painful. However, the meditation techniques provided by his so-many-great-grandfather were quickly usable.

He closed his eyes, and his breathing evened almost immediately. 'I should really tell all of it to them all,' he reflected, 'it's damn useful.' The shape-shifting would even allow him to alter his muscle mass and, to a lesser degree, his bones. Theoretically, it could also allow him to heal himself from physical wounds. The book even hinted towards the usefulness of shape-shifting in the field of unarmed combat. Of course, when one could produce claws at will, it wasn't really 'unarmed' anymore, rather 'body weaponry'. Still, to save one's hide, anything was game.

After a moment of wondering, Hermione frowned, her rule-abiding side showing. "Harry! Don't do that again! You are going to be expelled if you do magic during the summer!"

"I know, Mione, but the Ministry only detects wand magic." Harry had taken on himself to get information about this because of Dobby's antics the previous summer. Still a little feeble from the transformation, he closed his eyes.

Ginny, though, was grinning widely. "You managed the claws! You did!" she was chirping.

Hearing this, Ron glared at them again, and asked Harry, a little too rudely "How many more secrets do you share with my baby sister, Harry?"

"We don't..." Harry began.

"I'm not..." Ginny started.

But neither could continue because the door opened, with Neville and Luna entering the compartment again. What shocked the four sitting students was that the usually calm and collected Neville smiled like a madman, and he had lipstick on the cheek, the colour of Luna's. Apart from this, Trevor was held by Luna, who was speaking to it as if it was an understanding person. Ron looked at the pair, bewildered, and the other three friends tried to hide their smiles under their hands. Harry, sensing that problems would arise if Neville was to show himself in public with the mark still on the cheek, got the other boy's attention, and started "Nev, you have lipstick..."

And that was it. Harry, Ginny, and Hermione couldn't contain their laughter anymore, and Ron smirked. While Neville first appeared stunned then blushed profusely, he started to smile also at the humour of the situation. Neville then wiped his cheek carefully with a clean handkerchief that he folded neatly afterwards, before storing it away in his pockets. After the laughter died down a little, Luna, still holding and watching Trevor as if it was a cursed prince, remarked "whenever you want more, help yourself." Neville, who had managed to regain a proper composure, blushed again. Laughter rose again in the fast-moving compartment of the train speeding through the countryside to deliver students to their parents and guardians.

Some time later...

Harry was upset. Really upset. He hadn't wanted to go 'home' to Privet Drive, but Dumbledore had insisted, and he didn't dare contradicting him, despite what he said to Ron on the train. That was just a little teenager bravado. But he wasn't home yet.

Everyone had had their family waiting; even Neville had his imposing grandmother. Some rich purebloods got butlers waiting; some kids of powerful magical families or ministry employees got portkeys. But after the hugs and handshakes delivered around the platform, all the Express passengers were gone. All in all, the platform was deserted in less than fifteen minutes. And, after being bear-hugged by Hermione, shaking hands with Ron, and hugging and kissing Ginny on the cheek in front of her surprised mother, causing Ginny to blush, Harry was alone.

After searching for his relatives around the station, Harry sat on the street outside the station, waiting for his uncle to appear. After two hours in this position, the day was advancing into afternoon, and heavy clouds began to cover the city, while Harry's thoughts started to wander in all directions.

'What if they had an accident?'

'I hope it doesn't rain soon, I don't like these clouds.'

'I could use a chocolate frog right now.'

'Could I grow wings?'

'Darn, I'm sure they forgot me on purpose.'

Harry was not only alone, but he also didn't have any mean of communication to his guardians, or anyone in the magical world. Earlier, he had sent Hedwig directly to Little Whinging, and he didn't know the telephone number of his relatives. As he never had to call them, and the wizarding world not needing the annoying devices, he never memorized it. And he couldn't even look through the phone directories! He knew that his aunt, some years earlier, caught in a home security frenzy, had subscribed to a service hiding one's phone number from the public files. He found some Grangers in the heavy books, though, but, getting his money out of his pocket, met a slight problem. In no way his Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons could work with the phone booth. He had to change them into pounds! And there was only one place he knew where he could do it: Gringotts. Besides, once at the wizarding bank, he could also withdraw money for a commuter train ticket. Looking around to see if anybody was watching him, he found himself utterly alone in the street darkened by the rumbling clouds, and heavy rain drops started to fall languidly. Sighing, he ripped the directory page with all the Grangers' numbers, in case of need later, and the local area map. He made a short incursion into the station again, to get a look at the board showing the timetables for the commuter trains to Surrey. The last train was going to leave at 6:30pm and the time now was 1:30pm, so he had little time for his round-trip expedition to Diagon Alley and Gringotts. Pushing the heavy trolley, with his school trunk and empty owl cage on it, in the empty and wet streets, he followed the map to a point where he knew he could see the Leaky Cauldron. Upon arriving there, 2pm could be heard ringing on public clocks, and Harry was soaking wet. Opening the door and going through, Harry found Tom, the bartender.

"Sorry, sir." he said, pointing with his hand towards the path from the door to the bar, wet from Harry's outside trekking.

"Not a problem, lad, come on in, come in. What can I do for you?"

"Can you keep my stuff while I go to Gringotts? I have to exchange muggle money for a commuter train." Thirty years of servicing all sort of customers, especially eccentric wizards, had led Tom to provide any kind of service on the spot, so he readily accepted and directed the trolley towards the back while Harry went to Diagon Alley's entry.

Remembering the proper combination, he tapped the bricks, and was astounded when the archway opened to a sunny day, not like the one he was coming from. Shaking his head, he reflected that wizards could do that, and that he didn't have leisure time to dawdle.

The wizarding bank, held by the Goblins for centuries, hadn't changed at all since Harry's previous visit. Thankfully, the attendance was rather low, and, after only 15 minutes of queuing, he found himself in the roller coaster cart, riding down towards his vault. Arriving there, he spent some time to get his bearings straight, before using his key to enter the vault. There was slightly less money in it since the first time he saw it, and he absentmindedly remarked that it must have been the two years' worth of Hogwarts fees. Because of the lowered money level, though, he noticed something he hadn't seen previously. Behind the money piles, there was a framed painting. What did a painting have to do inside a bank vault?

Moving around his piles of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts, he approached the frame. And once there, able to have a good look at it, he got another shock. On the painting, there were people. People he knew without knowing. People he was dying to know better, but who had died before him knowing. His parents.

For some time, he looked at them with tears running on his cheeks. They looked like real. With his mixed education, he knew that they looked too real to be a muggle painting, yet they were not moving like wizardry portraits do. Something was missing. He reflected on it for a time, before remembering his tight schedule. Squatting to get hold of some galleons, he also noticed that, on the ground in front of the painting, was a rather non-descript wooden box, half the size of his school trunk. Still moved by his parents' sudden appearance, he cautiously opened the box, and found a clutter of items, mostly loose papers, and small vials of unknown liquids. Glancing at his watch he decided that he had very little time for exploration, and he removed only the first items from the box. The first one he found was a velvety ring box, containing a ring and a leaflet. The ring looked like a signet ring, with the embossed letters G/S on it, and there was something written on its inside but Harry couldn't make heads or tails from it. The accompanying leaflet explained that the ring was made for Ginevra Shaun, and it was invisible to Muggles. A hand-written line at the bottom merely stated "To mum, with love – James."

Harry's head was spinning again. In less than a fortnight, he had come across a thousand years' worth of his mother's family names, and now he was discovering his father's. A small part of his mind was smirking about the sameness of first names between his grand-mother and his friend Ginny. Idly, he put the ring on, bracing himself for a magical effect and almost disappointed of not feeling any. Anyway, the ring being invisible to Muggles, he felt no qualm to keep it when at Privet Drive.

Digging in the box again, he found a crispy envelope with, written on it, the following words:

In case anything happen to us. – J&L

Opening it quickly, awaiting a letter of sorts to him, he found himself annoyed of finding only a formal letter, looking like a legal document.

To whoever in charge of magical law enforcement when this missive is released, we, James and Lily Potter, hereby state that we took refuge in our cottage located in Godric's Hollow, under the Fidelius charm cast by Albus Dumbledore, using Peter Pettigrew as secret keeper. This letter is written under a wizard's oath spell, and its content can not and will not be changed whatever the case. It can't be destructed and tampered with.

Not understanding the whole thing behind all this, Harry suddenly remembered that Remus Lupin, a friend of his parents, was coming to check on him this summer. So, he took the letter in his pocket so that to give it to him or Dumbledore later. With a last glance to his wristwatch, then a regretful one to the box, he closed the lid and, taking a handful of galleons, headed out of his vault.

Once upstairs, he went into the queue again, this time for the muggle exchange office. The queue was very short there, as only a few wizards needed that service. Once there, Harry dropped his galleons on the counter, and asked for the equivalent in pounds. He didn't think about the exchange rate while being in his vault, and was a little apprehensive about having to go downstairs once more. But the stack of notes the cashier silently pushes his way was high enough to get the train, and could even last for the entire summer. It was a good thing too, because he could eat more than the meagre portion his aunt usually served him. Thanking the impassive cashier, Harry hurried outside towards the Leaky Cauldron, when a dark shape, going out of the apothecary's at the same time, happened to cut his way. The impact was inevitable, and Harry fell back on the floor whereas the large frame of Severus Snape just stumbled.

"Watch your way, young... Oh, it's you, Potter!" Snape didn't seem pleased, but something was different about his onyx eyes. Still, he didn't help when Harry got up, patting his sore posterior.

"What are you doing here? Hasn't the Headmaster given you an order about your residence this summer?" Snape's tone was harsh, but the eyes were still unfathomable.

"Errrm... My relatives didn't show up at the station, and I'm going to take the train towards them. That's why I had to get money." Harry finished, indicating Gringotts behind him with his thumb.

Snape was silent for a moment, eyeing an uneasy Harry critically, then asked "You are not fleeing your relatives, are you?"

Still not comfortable under Snape's scrutiny, especially about the fact that he wanted to flee them, Harry exclaimed "No! I would not disobey..."

"Good." Snape interrupted and, looking at his watch, suddenly appeared pressed for time. "Be sure to be there this evening. And be sure to write your Headmaster about this and anything else of importance."

Thinking of missives that could be sent to the Headmaster, Harry quickly reacted and, poking around his pockets, he extracted the letter from his parents about the secret keeper. "Can you give him that, Professor?"

Not answering, not even looking at Harry, Snape took the letter and stored it hastily in his pocket. He then left so quickly that Harry didn't have time to thank him.

Looking at the back of his teacher, retreating towards the entrance of Knockturn Alley, Harry reflected for a second on his professor's behaviour. Then, shaking himself out of his trance, he went back to the Leaky Cauldron to get his stuff back, before heading to the train station again, and to Little Whinging afterwards.

Around London, at night...

The fat man got home late this night. He always got home later than his job released him to get a round in a random pub, but this time, it was different. He had been fired, for John's sake, and he felt compelled to drown this fact into the arms of a Famous Grouse. Not that he appreciated the good tastes or anything, he just asked the wary bartender his strongest drink. A few downed bottles and many hours later, he got out of the pub, and entered his car with difficulty. Any bobby there at that point would have arrested him, but luck was on his side at this particular moment, because he arrived home without hitting anything except a few stray trashcans. However, upon arriving in his driveway in the evening, he mistook the brake pedal with the accelerator, thus driving straight into his garage door, and slamming into its right wall also. Of course, this kind of action caused some noise, that could be only described as hellish. His wife was still up, worrying, but the neighbours were not. Because of the noise, though, some windows alighted themselves and curious faces showed themselves. As the driver got out of the car, which was halfway embedded in his own house, everybody could hear the loud and slurred cursing, even before seeing the purple face of Vernon Dursley.

To be continued in next chapter: Global Destruction...

That was plain old travelling,
And explaining changeling.
What'll happen when he gets there?
To know that, review! So there...