Harry Potter was having a rather pleasant dream. Even though he wasn't fully conscious, he could notice it was a dream and felt good about it because he had had only nightmares for some time. Nightmares concerning his parent's death, the events in the graveyard where Voldemort returned, his godfather Sirius' death and now also concerning the death of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore at the hands of a teacher, Severus Snape. Mostly his nightmares focused on the hatred look on Snape's face and slow motioning the jet of green light hitting Dumbledore in his chest. This time, however, he was having a dream which included Ginny in a world without Voldemort. They were happily sitting together near Hogwarts' lake just having a good time talking, laughing and kissing when he heard a voice that simply didn't belong to the dream saying "Harry, it's time to get up." A sudden flash of light flooded his dream and he immediately woke up. For a few seconds he searched for the best jinx he could find to use on his aunt Petunia for waking him up, but he forgot his resentment at once when another thought landed on his head. His aunt had just woken him up nicely. As far as he could remember, Petunia had limited herself to yelling from downstairs or violently knock at his door. He expected her not to go beyond knocking more smoothly at the door if she ever got into a good mood, but she had just entered the room, shaken him gently, talked to him and opened the window. His mind raced to find a reason but the best he could think of was that he was still dreaming. As soon as he opened his eyes he remembered. This was his last day at number 4, Privet Drive and the Dursleys were making sure that we didn't change his mind just to bother them. They didn't know that Harry would leave the house anyway even if they locked him in the cupboard under the stairs where he once slept. In fact, he was just there because Dumbledore wanted him to return to the Dursley's one last time. He got up trying to remember the dream he was having, so that he could keep a vivid memory of it and looked out the window. Outside, the street remained virtually the same as sixteen years before, when he was left at number 4's door. The only differences were some plants that had grown over the years, as the two ended street had the precise look a plain normal suburban street would have. Harry noticed that the sun was high already and checked his watch; it was already 10:27 and he had promised Mr. Weasley that he would be ready by eleven o'clock. He still had enough time to eat and pack his scarce belongings. The smell of bacon reached his room, reminding him of how hungry he was, so he got dressed quickly and went to the kitchen. Dudley and his uncle Vernon were already eating and he sat between them. Dudley moved his chair to gain some distance from Harry, for he had not yet recovered from the Dementor attack two years before, but Vernon made the most fake smile Harry had ever seen and hit him strongly in the back.
"Had a good night, boy? I mean, Harry. You'll need all your strength for the day."
Harry stared at his uncle incredulously. Usually his first sentence about him had something to do with his hair. Plus, he had bothered himself to say his name, which had not been said in that house since Dumbledore visited him the year before. His stomach tightened when his mind led him to his headmaster, dead. Another death caused only by Lord Voldemort's desire to kill him. Wherever he went, death followed him and he couldn't stop thinking who would be next. The pain from his uncle's hand on his back made him return his attention to the bacon in front of him. He was still amazed at the hypocrisy level that the Dursleys had managed to achieve. "Boy – sorry, I meant Harry – when is that Mr. Weasel coming for you?" – his uncle continued, producing another of his most fake smiles when he said Harry's name.
"Mr. Weasley..." – corrected Harry – "… will be here in half an hour."
"That means that this time that old eccentric man won't come, right?" – Vernon's voice showed some restraint. It was clear that, in his opinion, there were more appropriate adjectives to describe Dumbledore, but he didn't dare say them as he knew that in a few days Harry would be allowed to jinx them at will. Harry noticed that and smiled to himself, covering the ever present memory of the most recent death of someone he cared about with satisfactory thoughts about what he could do once he came of age. His eyes focused automatically on his cousin and his imagination replaced Dudley with a pink, round pig. Not that he needed to use his imagination much. Dudley Dursley had grown during the year and managed to achieve equality between width and height. His round face with multiple chins contributed to the appearance of a pig.
"I asked you a question and I expect an answer!" – yelled his uncle, who had crossed the limits of his hypocrisy wall for a while but then seemed to remember he shouldn't. – "I mean, if you don't mind" – he completed.
"No, he's not coming" – Harry was not going to bother himself telling them that Dumbledore was dead. A little fear from the 'old eccentric' wizard was healthy and wouldn't hurt them. – "I think I'd better go and pack my stuff"
Harry hadn't finished his breakfast, but he was not in the right mood to hear about the weirdness of the people he knew. He went to his room and closed the door. The room was in its usual untidiness, with spell books scattered around, quills and ink abandoned in the floor and clothes could be found in impossible places. He tripped over a book entitled 'Transfigurating the World – Complete Guide to Advanced Transfiguration'. Only now he thought about his school books. He wasn't expecting to return to Hogwarts that soon, but he didn't want to leave his books at the mercy of the most anti-wizardish people in the world who, by all accounts, were his most close relatives.
"Well, I think I can keep them at Grimmauld's Place for some time" he thought. It had been a hard decision for him, to return to house of the Blacks, the place that had almost driven his godfather into madness. Harry couldn't avoid wondering if Sirius would have gone to the Department of Mysteries if he hadn't been incarcerated in a house full of memories from the family that he had hated. The house that he had left Harry when he died. The Order of the Phoenix had used the building as their headquarters until their secret keeper – Dumbledore – had passed away, breaking the spell that hid the house. Following Lupin's suggestion they were going to hide it again, but this time Harry was going to be the secret keeper, as soon as his anniversary came. He started the almost impossible mission of fitting his books, clothes and other stuff into his trunk, locked Hedwig safely in her cage and threw out some old Daily Prophets. The first pages were filled with news about dementor attacks, mysterious muggle killings and more rarely a wizard assassination. Harry just kept one, which mentioned a member of the Order.
You-Know-Who strikes at muggle Ministry
Last night, at around 11:00 pm, two Death Eaters attempted to infiltrate the muggle Ministry with the clear objective of placing the actual minister under the Imperius curse. The Death Eaters took advantage of a late meeting which caused the minister to work extra time, by staying in his office going through some paper work. They used stealth to get to his office unnoticed, but the minister's secretary - a highly accomplished Auror working undercover named Kinglsey Shacklebolt – intercepted them and engaged in a fight after warning Rufus Scrimegeour, the present Minister of Magic, who immediately dispatched four more Aurors to the local. The reinforcements arrived just in time to save Shacklebolt who had managed to Stupefy one of the Death Eaters before being hit with some hazardous curses that left the Auror lingering between life and death. The remaining Death Eater escaped and Dissaparated when help arrived. Kingley Shacklebolt is now stable and recovering at St. Mungus Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and the Stupefied Death Eater has been identified as Schultz Handerwortz, an immigrant from Germany, who is now in Azkaban expecting a trial.
More information on page 3
If you, by any accounts, have knowledge concerning Death Eater activity and/or identity, do not hesitate to use the ministry special help section. See how in page 6.
Harry knew Kingley Shacklebolt. He was the tall wizard that was part of his advanced guard, in the beginning of his fifth year and the man that had been responsible by the investigation on the whereabouts of Sirius.
After concluding the Herculean mission of closing his trunk with all his stuff in it, Harry took it downstairs. He still had ten minutes left, which he decided to use by testing Dudley's patience one last time. Dudley was doing his favorite activity; watching television in the living room with the maximum food possible around him, so Harry grabbed a chair and sat near the sofa, which was almost broken due to the excessive weight Dudley carried with him.
"So, Big D… – that's how your friends call you isn't it? – …how are you gong to survive without me? Probably you'll have to hire someone to make you face the truth."
"I'm trying to watch TV. Will you leave me alone?"
Harry grinned to himself. First round was already making Dudley nervous.
"Leave you alone? My dear Diddikins, you have enough matter in your body to make two more people, so I guess you'll never be really alone."
"Shut up, I wanna hear the television."
This was better. Dudley was already returning to his normal bully condition.
"Don't tell me you'd rather pay attention to the television than to your favorite cousin. Anyway, you are in shorter supply of brain cells than I thought if you can't listen what I say and watch TV at the same time."
"I said SHUT IT!" – Dudley yelled this time, and then he muttered something.
"Say that again Dudley, but this time in English, 'cause we can't all speak piggish like you."
"Aren't you leaving?"
"Course I am. But I still have some minutes, and I am trying to get some vestiges of intelligence into your head to see if they can multiply and make you a better person. It's my gift for having me living here for so long."
"I'm warning you. Just because you're all weird doesn't mean I can't hit you again."
"Getting violent, are we? Maybe I ought to remember you that my weirdness saved your soul two summers ago. But you should be careful when I leave anyway."
"And why would that be?"- asked Dudley
"You know… if your soul's size matches your body's you will have loads of starving Dementors waiting for you in dark alleys."
"There… there are more of those things around?" – Dudley's face had turned into a rather curious half white, half blue color.
"Sure. You don't think that a couple of dementors would have kept Azkaban safe all those years do you?"
"Azka-what?"
"Forget it. Anyway, I really don't think they'd come after you when I leave. That way you can concentrate your marvelous brainpower in letting go the addition of beating kids with four or five guys covering your back."
"They aren't kids."
"What do you call twelve year old guys then? Master adversaries with mighty strength?"
"Shut your face"
"Here we go again. Don't you remember how it ended our last conversation in which you told me to shut my face? I was expecting you to at least show some signs of long term memory but it seems like you are a lost cause."
Dudley showed Harry a menacing fist and threatened:
"This time your Dementoid things aren't around, and you can't make magic outside your freak school."
"I can't, for another week. I could return after that and turn you into a bat, or make large tentacles grow out of your mouth. Plus, a friend of mine is picking me up, and he can make all the magic he wants."
Dudley grunted something and turned to the television again. Then, all of a sudden, he turned again and tried to punch Harry in the face but he was still gaining balance with his hand when he found out that Harry's wand was two inches away from his nose.
"You hit me and I promise you that your nose will become bigger than the rest of your body."
"Point that thing somewhere else!"
"Then make sure your hand stays in the same place for the next ten minutes."
Harry looked at the watch; there were only ten seconds left until 11:00. Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one and someone ran the bell. Harry raced to the door, but his uncle Vernon beat him to it and opened the door. Harry heard him say in both fear and surprise.
"No… not you… get away from my house! I won't allow you to pass from my door!"
He then heard Moody's growly voice from the outside.
"Just get out of the way Dursley. We are here for Harry and I certainly won't be intimidated by your pathetic muggle figure."
"Come on Alastor, there's no need to scare the poor man" – Mr. Weasley's voice sounded behind the door.
"The 'poor man' ought to have some manners when receiving guests, or he might end up with a lousy host reputation" – protested Moody – "Are you going to let us in or what?"
Vernon muttered something that sounded like he was chewing wood and opened the door wide enough for someone to enter. Harry recognized immediately the wizard who entered first, as there was only one wizard he knew that had a piece of his nose missing and a magical eye: Alastor Moody. Behind him, entered another man, who Harry immediately recognized as Mr.Weasley, by his red hair. The last person to enter the house was a tired looking man, Harry's teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts in the third year and one of his father's best friends, Remus Lupin.
"Oh, there you are Harry. Got your things all packed?" – asked Lupin when he saw Harry standing near the hall.
"First we should check he really is Harry and not someone impersonating him." – growled once again Moody
"Come on, Alastor, we can't go through this every time we come and pick him up." – censured Mr.Weasley, to what Moody answered with a grunt from which the words 'danger', 'Death Eaters' and 'precaution' stood out.
Lupin opened his mouth as if he was going to speak but Harry interrupted him.
"My patronus is a stag if you are going to ask that again" – he said
"Many people know that since you said it in a trial Harry. We've got to think of something else…" – Lupin was quiet for a while and suddenly asked: "What do you see when you are near Dementors?"
Harry felt like Dudley had punched him while he wasn't looking. One thing was to ask about his Patronus, but another completely different one was asking about his worst memory.
"I see the night when my parents were killed." - he said briefly.
"It's him Alastor. Now, if Harry is ready, can we go?"
"Sure. Why can't we just Apparate? It would save us a lot of trouble."
"I can Apparate" – Harry reminded – "I Apparated back to Hogsmeade with Dumbledore once."
Everybody's face but the Dursley's saddened for a while with the memory of the recent events, but returned to normality in an instant.
"You still haven't passed you exam yet Harry and you aren't of age either. This time we'll have to do it another way." – said Mr.Weasley firmly.
"Are we using broomsticks this time too?"
"That won't be necessary. This time we have authorization to use a Portkey. You see, this time we are in better terms with the ministry." – informed Lupin.
"Are we going straight to Grimmauld's place?"
"I wish we could" – said Moody – "but when the protecting charm was lifted, Snape was able to tell his master where our headquarters is. We can only return there once we protect it again, and that will only happen when your birthday arrives. Until then, you'll stay at the Burrow. Take this hat."- he said while taking out an old hat from an even older bag – "It's the Portkey that will take you there"
Harry waved cheerfully goodbye at the Dursley's and grabbed the hat. A second later, he had left number 4, Privet Drive for the last time.