Chapter 3

The next morning Harry woke up early just as the sun was rising. He planned to get a quick breakfast and get out of the house before the Dursleys were awake; they probably wouldn't even notice he was gone until they needed him to clean up or something. He was just pulling his T-shirt over his head when he felt something. It was hard to describe. It was like a subtle change in the air, it felt familiar and comforting. It was something he had felt before and he remembered the times he had felt it very strongly; when he had picked up his wand for the first time and when he had first entered the wizarding world. It was magic.

Harry was sure he wouldn't have even felt it if he hadn't been away from Hogwarts for so long but there was no mistaking it; someone, in this house, had used magic.

Harry crept silently onto the landing. He peeked his head around Dudley's door and immediately saw the large lump of covers snoring loudly that was Dudley. As quietly as he could he craned his neck into the next room to see a sleeping Aunt Petunia but no Uncle Vernon. Apparently he wasn't the only one awake.

He glided down the stairs to find the living room, kitchen and dining room surprisingly empty. Where was uncle Vernon? Harry slumped down on the sofa feeling slightly put out that he hadn't found anything. Now that he thought about it, Uncle Vernon had probably just gone to work early and that magic feeling was so slight he could have just imagined it.

Just then though, a dull glow from the dining room caught his attention. He went to investigate and was shocked to see a pensieve lying on the shiny wooden table. He stared at it trying to think why on earth he hadn't noticed it before; but wait…Uncle Vernon couldn't be in there could he? No he didn't even know what a pensieve was. Did he?

Harry pulled out his wand and swilled the small amount of silvery liquid in the bottom, the surface cleared to reveal a scene. Harry could see his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, talking to a plump boy of about ten or eleven. Dumbledore looked slightly younger so he guessed this must have been a few years ago. Harry also saw Uncle Vernon watching in the corner; invisible to the people in the memory. Harry wanted to go inside the pensieve too but thought if he got into an argument with Uncle Vernon he would miss the rest of the memory. Harry settled for watching through the top.

"…really now Vernon there's no need to be afraid of magic," Dumbledore said comfortingly to the young boy.

"Mar-Marge says it's unnatural and it's dangerous," the boy said in a small voice, glancing at Dumbledore nervously.

Dumbledore sighed and looked at the boy huddled before him; obviously terrified.

"Ver-" He was cut short by a rather large girl of about 16 who had just entered the room.

"You again" she said, eyeing Dumbledore with distaste. "I told you to stay away from my brother"

"Now really miss Dursley" said Dumbledore who looked to be getting quite agitated

"you really have no right to stop your brother-"

Once again she rudely interrupted him.

"He's made up his mind so stop badgering us."

"Very well" said Dumbledore, defeated "but don't hesitate to contact me if you change your mind" and with that he dissaparated.

The pensieve clouded over to show the memory was finished and Harry found himself faced with a very pale looking uncle Vernon. Uncle Vernon stared at him in horror.

"Boy" He managed to choke out.

When Harry stared back at him nonchalantly he stuttered;

"Did-did you…did you see?"

"Just the end I think" replied Harry who was suddenly feeling he should try being civil to uncle Vernon.

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to say something but was cut short by Dudley waddling into the room.

"Mor-Mor-Morning Dad" he said stifling a huge yawn.

"Son" he said in a strangely high pitched voice "what are you doing up so early?"

"I've got training" Dudley turned on Harry and frowned "make me some bacon"

"Yes your majesty" Harry replied sarcastically.

Dudley immediately turned to his Dad to see what Harry's punishment would be but Uncle Vernon shot a nervous glance at Harry and said;

"Er, I'll make the bacon shall I?"

Harry knew it would be a while before he could talk to Uncle Vernon again so he left the room without a word.

Harry walked around the identical streets of Little Whinging for almost an hour thinking about what he saw in the pensieve. It was turning out to be a very strange summer so far and he was utterly confused. He decided he would need to start demanding answers, and soon.