Hey i keep forgetting to tell you all that i wrote this before i fully understood book 5 and way before 6 came out so if some of it doesn't go with the actual story just go with it. thats what fanfiction is for right?


Chapter 7 Letting Go

"Professor Lupin!" Harry called, waving an arm over his head.

"Harry!" Lupin cried back, watching him fight his way through the crowd. The professor greeted Harry with a warm fatherly embrace then held him back at arms length. "It's been so long. You look more like your father every time I see you."

Harry grinned. "It's great to see you! Have you tried that new vaccination? Is that why you're here? What happened this summer? How are things at—"

Lupin put a hand over Harry's mouth. "Not here…come to my office tonight. Use your invisibility clo—." He stopped and looked over Harry's shoulder. "Ah, Ginny, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Professor," she said, grabbing Harry's arm. She pulled his ear closer and whispered, "Ron and Hermione are waiting in the common room."

Harry looked up. "Well, Professor, I'll see you later," he said, turning away with Ginny at his side.

Harry and Ginny entered the Common Room and headed for Ron and Hermione who were deep in conversation. Harry sat in his favorite armchair by the fire and Ginny sat on the armrest next to him. He was reminded intensely of last year when the four of them had nothing better to do but make plans to get Snape sacked or Malfoy expelled.

"What's up?" Ginny asked.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a nervous glance before Ron answered. "What was it you were telling me about that one boy, Harry?"

"He kept telling the hat he wanted in Gryffindor. But it put him in bloody Slytherin."

"Okay. That's what I told Hermione. She agrees with me on this, too."

"Agrees with what?"

"Well, Harry," Hermione stepped in, sensing Ron's uneasiness, "you know Voldemort's certainly stepped up the attacks on people around you, so that must mean that he's going to come after you soon." Harry nodded to show he understood. "We think," she continued, "that since the Slytherins all seem to know each other, maybe the Death Eaters are sending their kids to Hogwarts as spies. I mean, some of them have always gone here, but now, there's just too many to be a coincidence. The closer they are to you, the better it is for Voldemort."

Harry blew out a breath through his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So basically, I can't trust anyone I don't already trust."

Ron nodded.

"Well, that's just great. What am I going to do?"

"About what?" Ginny asked.

"My life. I've never exactly been a normal child but this makes it worse."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't talk to people. It's our seventh year so you have to have some fun. You'll just have to be really careful this year," Hermione said. Harry stared at her. The most cautious one in their group was telling him that is was okay to basically be normal this year. She stood up and stretched. "Well, I'm going to bed. G'night everyone."

Coming back to his senses, Harry said, "Oh, right…Careful. Like that's ever helped me before." Harry rose and headed up the staircase to get his invisibility cloak. "I've got to go visit Lupin so I'll be back later," he told Ron. "Don't wait up."

Twenty minutes later, Harry knocked on Lupin's office door. It opened and the professor stood back to let Harry in. "Hello, Professor," he said, removing his father's cloak.

"Harry, I'm glad you could make it," Lupin answered, taking a seat behind his desk and motioning for Harry to sit also. "Now, perhaps, I can answer some of your questions. Would you like some tea?"

"Sure," Harry said, accepting a cup and staring around the room. It looked much the same as it had in his third year, back when he'd first met Sirius… The memories flooded back to him and he blinked a bit before saying, "So, have you tried that new vaccination?"

Lupin grinned. "One of the first to use it. It works wonders!"

"So, I assume that's why you decided to come back here."

Lupin nodded. "I didn't think the memories would be so strong though." He smiled weakly.

"What happened this summer at the Ministry?" Harry asked hastily, changing the subject.

Lupin's features suddenly darkened. "Alastor and Kingsley were talking with Fudge that night. I'm pretty sure it was about something Dumbledore wanted done, but I'm not completely positive." Harry took a sip of his tea and nodded. "Well, as you know, the Death Eaters took over that night. They tried to get information out of Percy, Fudge, Mad-Eye, and Kingsley by torturing them. Fudge didn't last long; he always was a weak one. Moody and Kingsley didn't give up a thing, though."

"But what about Percy?"

"He did give up information. He told the Death Eaters what was hidden in the Department of Mysteries."

"But, Professor, what is hidden there? Dumbledore only said it had something to do with my heart, but that could mean a lot of things."

"That, Harry, I cannot tell you. If Professor Dumbledore hasn't told you yet then it's for good reason."

Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled. "I don't think you know just how tired I am of hearing that."

"I can only imagine. But now if you don't mind, I'd like to hear how your summer was, aside from the obvious."

Harry frowned. "Well, my uncle picked up a new bad habit. He likes to drink… a lot. Dudley is still beating up little kids. And they all still hate me. But other than that, my summer was great." Harry said lamely.

"Are you going to go back next summer?"

"Only for a little while. Ron is letting me stay with him when I'm not there."

"That's good. I was going to tell you that you could stay with me if you needed a place. I don't like the idea of you being at the Dursley's more than you have to be."

"Thanks for the offer."

Harry yawned widely and draped the Invisibility Cloak over his arm as he began to climb the staircase to his dormitory shortly after midnight. He hadn't realized how tired he was. He was definitely going to regret this in the morning.

Slowly he pushed the door open to his room to prevent it from creaking. A smile crept across his face at the sight of the five four-poster beds and the sound of his four roommates' snores. "Just like always," he muttered, pulling his pajamas out of his trunk and stuffing the cloak in their place.

As he closed the lid of his trunk, a pain known all to well to Harry shot through his scar. He drew in a sharp breath and clapped a hand over his forehead, wishing the pain would stop. Quickly it reached such a pitch that Harry dropped to his knees at the foot of his bed. As his vision swam and darkness threatened to engulf him, panicked voices raced through his head.

"Who is that?" came a male voice Harry couldn't quite place.

"I don't know. But I get the feeling we should not stay in the house." This time the speaker sounded like a frightened female.

"Oh, lighten up. He won't come to our house." It was the male again, only now Harry could see him. It was Hermione's father. He and his wife were staring out their bedroom window at a group of people in black cloaks moving slowly down the street.

In the lead of the group was a man who didn't bother with hiding his face. There was the face that had haunted Harry's dreams for the past six years. Lord Voldemort was leading his Death Eaters through the quiet Muggle village, blasting away anything in his path.

When he reached the middle of the street he stopped and motioned with his hand. The Death Eaters fanned out to the front walk of each home.

"We shouldn't stay here," Hermione's father said as he rolled out of bed and headed for the back door.

"Brilliant deduction," his wife said sarcastically, following him.

Hermione's father put a finger to his lips as he pulled open the back door. He poked his head out and squinted through the darkness. As he stepped from the house, Harry heard the words "Avada Kedavra" shouted and saw Hermione's father fall to the floor, eyes wide and staring, and his mouth slightly open in surprise.

Hermione's mother screamed and fell to her knees beside her husband, desperately trying to wake him. When she finally looked up, a tall man in a black cloak had his wand pointed directly at her heart.

"What do you want?" she asked, drawing herself up to her full height.

"Nothing from you, you filthy Muggle," he spat back.

She stepped back as the man muttered the deadly words again. Then she crumpled to the floor atop her husband.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying face down on his dormitory floor with his face pushed into his palms and his heart beating dangerously fast. His scar burned dully and his head pounded so badly it hurt to move.

Quick as lightening, Harry raced to the door and yanked it open. He sprinted down the staircase and jumped the last five steps. The he turned and headed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. For the first time he was allowed to climb them.

Harry kept climbing until he reached the seventh year room. There he stood pounding wildly on the door, yelling for Hermione. When she finally came to the door, Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her out the room, then reached past her and slammed the door shut.

"Hermione, I just had another vision," Harry panted, still out of breath from the mad dash he'd made.

"Harry, how did you get up here?"

"Never mind that," he yelled. He grabbed her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. "I had another vision," he repeated. "It was about your parents. Voldemort attacked their village, just like Malfoy said," he gasped hurriedly between breaths.

"Harry, you just had a nightmare," Hermione said forcefully, loosening his grip on her shoulders. "Now, go back to bed." She turned to go back into her room.

"No, Hermione!" he yelled, grabbing her elbow. "I'm telling you, this wasn't a nightmare. It was just like the one I had last time."

"But your visions have been wrong before. And you said yourself that we can't trust anyone we don't already trust, including Malfoy."

"My visions haven't been wrong since I mastered Occlumency."

"Harry, it just can't be true…it can't be," Hermione argued as her eyes filled with tears. Harry nodded and the tears splashed down onto her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said, pulling her into a tight hug.

"No," she moaned again and again into his shoulder.

"Miss Granger," said a stern voice from the top of the stairs, "the Headmaster would like a word with you."

Harry turned and found Professor McGonagall in her tartan bathrobe watching them sadly. Ginny poked her head our from behind her and blinked at the sight of Harry.

As Hermione walked past them, swiping at the tears, McGonagall said, "I guess it would be pointless to tell you to go to sleep, Potter." Harry nodded. "Then perhaps you should come with us. I daresay the Headmaster will want to speak with you about this."

Harry followed her downstairs, Ginny at his side. "Harry what's going on?"

"I don't know, Ginny," he said miserably. He stopped at the portrait hole. "Look, just wait up for me. I'll talk to you when I get back."

Harry, Hermione, and Professor McGonagall continued down the dark and dismal hallways on their way to see Dumbledore. Hermione stared at her feet, sniffling the whole way. They stopped when they reached the stone gargoyle that led to the headmaster's office. Hermione wiped her eyes and Professor McGonagall said, "Fizzing Whizzbee." The spinning staircase appeared and Harry and Hermione stepped aboard. At the top, Harry raised a fist to knock on the door, but it opened on its own. Harry let Hermione go in first, then stepped through and closed the door behind them.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I am glad you are here. Please, sit down, both of you." He motioned to three seats, one of which was already taken. Harry stood and stared at Malfoy then lowered himself uneasily into a chair.

"Judging by your state, Ms. Granger, I assume that you have already heard what I am about to tell you. Well, perhaps I should not be the one to start this story," said Dumbledore, pity radiating from behind his half moon glasses. "Mr. Malfoy, would you please tell them what you just told me."

Malfoy took a deep breath. "As you already knew, Potter, my father was a Death Eater, and I was in line to become one as soon as I turned seventeen. I didn't really want to, to tell you the truth, because the power the Dark Lord has over his subjects scares me. But there was nothing I could do. It was expected of me because I came from a family of Death Eaters."

He pulled up his sleeve and showed them a mark on his arm shaped like a skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth. It was a dark black color, as if it had just been put there. Harry knew better though. Voldemort had just called his followers to Hermione's village using the brand.

Harry's hand went instinctively to the scar on his arm where he'd been pierced with the knife the night that Voldemort had returned. He seemed to feel the blade again, though the pain was a good deal duller this time. He shook his head.

Malfoy opened his mouth to speak again but he closed it and looked at his hands in his lap. He breathed deep again and spoke slowly. "My father was on business for the Dark Lord. Something beyond his control caused it to fail," he glanced at Harry. "Voldemort killed my father for it," he continued still staring at him.

With knitted brows, Harry gazed back. Then it dawned on him. "Last year, I got away…I didn't know that was your father," he said as the memories of his last meeting with Voldemort flooded back into his mind.

Malfoy nodded. "The Dark Lord cares no more for his followers than for his enemies. That's why is decided to become a spy. I tried to tell you on the train but I guess you were right. I really have never given you a reason to believe me," Malfoy gave a crocked grin. "Sorry."

Dumbledore spoke up. "I also regret that I wasn't available when you came to tell me the first time. Something might have been done to save those poor people."

Hermione sniffled. She had remained oddly silent throughout the whole story. Harry could only imagine her pain. The fact that they had been warned that her parents were going to be killed and the fact that they had ignored it had to be tearing her apart.

"In light of all this, Harry, I suggest that you go home for the Christmas holiday," said Dumbledore. "Home to the Dursleys."

"What? Sir, you can't be serious! You don't know what it's like there," Harry argued.

"I am sorry, Harry, but it is too dangerous here for you. The only place safe for you is Privet Drive. If it were up to me, I'd send you away now, but I can't do that to you in your seventh year."

"It's too dangerous for me there too! Why can't I go back to the Weasleys'?"

"What do you mean it's too dangerous at the Dursley's? Voldemort can't harm you there. That's why you have to live with them," said Dumbledore, leaning forward in his seat. Harry was very aware that Malfoy and Hermione were also staring at him.

"Please," begged Harry.

"No," said Dumbledore firmly. "Unless you can give me good reason why you can't go back, I'm afraid that you will have to leave Hogwarts this Christmas. It is, after all, only for a few weeks, and you'll be able to come back."

Harry clenched his jaw and stared at the ground.

"Now, I need to talk with Hermione alone, so if you'll excuse us. I'll send her along as soon as we're finished," said Dumbledore.

Harry and Malfoy rose and headed out the door and down the moving staircase. Harry waited till the stone gargoyle had closed up behind them before speaking.

"You were telling the truth," he said lamely.

"I told you I was, Potter."

"Well, can you blame me for not believing you! I mean you always hated me. Even in Diagon Alley you acted like you hated me."

"I had to keep up appearances. If I'm seen acting too buddy-buddy with you, I won't be able to spy anymore."

"You could have told me that on the train," said Harry irritably.

"Like you would have believed me," Malfoy spat.

Harry stopped and leaned against the stone wall, staring at the chinks of moonlight on the ground. "No, I guess I wouldn't have. I guess I really messed up this time."

"Yeah, you did. "

"Don't rub it in. I feel bad enough already. I let my best friends parents get killed when I knew about it, and all because of a stupid rivalry."

"I'm sorry. So do you think it's time for a truce," said Malfoy, almost hopefully it seemed.

Harry's head snapped up and he gave a weary grin. "Yeah, I think it is."

Malfoy stuck out a hand and Harry accepted.

Harry sat with his face in his hands in the Gryffindor Common Room, a little after two in the morning, waiting for Hermione's return. Ginny sat next to him, hugging her knees and staring at the dying embers of the fire. Neither said a word.

Finally, Harry slouched back in his seat and moaned, "I can't do this anymore."

"Harry, you should never have had to see any one of these deaths. You shouldn't have been put through any of the horrors of your life. But you have… That's all the more reason for you to keep fighting. Show Voldemort you're still here and he hasn't won yet."

"He might not have won yet, but he will. So why keep fighting?"

"Because your parents didn't die to save you so you could hand yourself over sixteen years later."

"But they wouldn't want this for me either."

"No, Harry, they wouldn't."

"How come you never came to bed last night? And have you seen Hermione this morning?" Ron asked at breakfast the next morning.

Harry grimaced. Of course Ron wouldn't know about last night. As luck would have it, he had been able to sleep easy while Harry worried about one of his best friends.

"Are you finished eating?" Harry asked, not wanting to discuss this with hundreds of gossiping kids around.

"I guess. Why?"

"Walk with me to class and I'll tell you."

Ron flipped his napkin onto his plate and walked out of the hall, looking expectantly at Harry who stared resolutely ahead of them, jaw set. Only when Harry found and empty classroom and made sure that Peeves was not hiding in it did he speak.

"I had another vision last night after I got back from Lupin's office."

Ron swallowed and looked his friend up and down. Harry's shoulders sagged as if an invisible weight sat upon them and deep lines etched themselves across his forehead. There were bags under his eyes and he looked almost as bad as when he had come to stay at the Burrow. Ron wondered to himself how he had not noticed the appearance of his friend earlier.

"A vision?" he asked. "About Hermione's parents?"

Harry nodded. Ron stood staring.

"And Malfoy was telling the truth, wasn't he?"

Harry sighed. "Yes. Hermione didn't believe me at first, but then McGonagall came for her so something obviously happened."

"How is she?"

Harry shrugged. "We'd better get to class."

Their first class was Transfiguration. Since Harry and Ron arrived early, Harry walked straight to Professor McGonagall who was preparing for class and looked almost as bad as him.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, it's good to see you here early."

"Excuse me, Professor, but how is Hermione?"

"She is excused from classes for today and at the moment she is sleeping in my office so she is not disturbed. You will see her this evening before bed not doubt," and she would say no more.

"What did she say?" Ron asked as Harry took his seat beside him and the rest of the class filed in.

"Hermione's in her office. She'll be back tonight."

"Is that all?"

Harry nodded.

"Settle down, class."

"Is it just me or have the teachers lost their minds?" said Ron, throwing down his quill down on the table in front of him.

"It's definitely the teachers," said Harry wearily as he put the final flourish on an essay for Transfiguration (Transfiguration Gone Wrong: Explain).

"Oh, come on," Ginny sighed, glancing over the top of a book she'd borrowed from the library. "It can't really be that bad, can it?"

"Yes," Harry and Ron said in unison, each throwing her a surprised glance.

"Why are they piling homework on us? N.E.W.T.'s aren't till the end of the year," complained Ron as he labored over a complicated star chart for one of the potions Snape was requiring them to brew.

"Well, if you two don't mind, I'm going bed," said Ginny as she snapped her book shut.

"Oh, no! We don't mind!" exclaimed Ron sarcastically. "We'll just sit here…alone…slaving over our homework while you rest you pretty little head on the soft, warm pillows that I wish I could be enjoying!"

"Good. See you in the morning."

"She completely missed the point, didn't she? Hermione!" Ron stood quickly and rushed over to her. Harry followed close behind.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked, taking her hands up in his.

"No," she answered. "But I will be. I'm leaving in the morning for the funeral. But I'll be back soon. Where's Ginny?" she asked, glancing around at the emptying Common Room.

"She went to bed. You can probably catch her if you hurry," said Ron.

"Goodnight then," she said as she hurried off.

As the weeks passed, and life slowly returned to normal, or as normal as possible given the circumstances, Harry was hit with a problem. After glancing at a calendar, he realized that the first Quidditch game of the season was fast approaching. Before class he started posting announcements for Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts, to be held in exactly one week.

Harry awoke the morning of Quidditch tryouts a little later than he had intended but not quite as refreshed as he would have hoped. He walked alone to the Great Hall and was pleased to find that he was not the only one who had slept late. Students from the other houses were wandering into the Hall also. Apparently he hadn't been the only one up late studying. He quickly spotted Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"Morning," he said as he approached them.

"Welcome to the world of the living, Harry," said Ron, tossing him a piece of toast.

"I think I'll take this to go," Harry said. "I need to get down to the locker room before everyone else does."

"Hang on, Harry, I'm coming with you," said Ginny as she stood up. They headed down the sloping lawn to the Quidditch pitch chatting excitedly about potential players.

"That was great, guys. Look for the list in the common room sometime within the next few days," Harry said as Gryffindors landed around him.

After everyone left, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny headed back to the castle. "Ok, so there's no question about who's on the team is there? I mean, some of those kids didn't even know the difference between the Quaffle and the Bludgers." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Dennis was actually quite good," said Hermione. "I wonder why he's never tried out before."

"Probably the same reason you didn't try-out till last year. Too busy with schoolwork," Ron said.

Hermione glared at him. "You might do with a little less Quidditch and a little more schoolwork, Ron. I saw your last grade in Transfiguration."

A crimson flush worked its way up Ron's cheeks.

The next morning, Harry woke up and posted the new Gryffindor team list. Then he headed down with his friends for breakfast. As Harry finished his eggs and bacon, a booming voice shouted his name and he turned to find Hagrid standing in the doorway.

"Hiya, Hagrid!" Harry shouted back.

"I got somethin' for yeh, Harry. I think you'll like it. Come with me to class early and I can give it to yeh."

"Alright, I'll be right there," Harry said. "I'll see you guys later."

"What's all this about, Hagrid?" Harry asked as he trotted to keep up with the Gamekeeper.

"I finally got yeh yer birthday present, Harry. I think yer gonna like it," he answered as he opened the door to his hut. Harry watched Hagrid searching for something on his enormous nightstand. "Here it is," Hagrid exulted, holding out a grubby package to Harry. "Open it."

"Hagrid, you didn't have to, you know that."

"Course I know that, but I wanted to. Merlin knows you deserve it."

Harry smiled and hastily tore off the brown paper. He stared down at yet another book. He blinked and flipped through the pages. "What's this?" Harry asked, looking into the giant's face.

"It's a book of all the Quidditch teams. I know yeh wanna be a Seeker now, so maybe this will help yeh decide which team yeh wanna be on. Well we best be off. Don' want to be late to class."

"Thanks," Harry said as he hugged Hagrid tightly around the middle. The man patted Harry on the back once and they both stepped out in to the sunlight to wait for the rest of the class to arrive.

As the holidays approached, Harry's spirits sank. "You know," he told Ron one night, "I had really hoped that I wouldn't have to go back there again. Now I don't even get to spend my last Christmas at Hogwarts at Hogwarts!"

On Harry's last night in the castle, he packed his things. Hermione and Ron were working on something in the library, or so they said. Harry suspected otherwise. To pass the time, Ginny had come to keep Harry company. She lay on his bed watching him. As he finished throwing things into his trunk, he slammed it shut.

"I can't believe Dumbledore's actually making you go back. Did you tell him what they do to you?" Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head and sat down on the edge of his bed. "That's not exactly something I like to spread around too much. I am supposed to be the invincible Harry Potter, you know. Besides, I'm not safe from Voldemort anywhere else."

"I just don't feel right not telling him."

"He doesn't need to know. He has enough on his plate anyway."

"I know but still…you'll be back soon right?"

"I'm not going to stay there any longer than I have to," he said lying down next to Ginny. He rolled over onto his stomach and hugged his pillow to his chin. "You know Lupin offered to let me live with him over the summers too. I wish I could go there instead of the Dursleys,'" he continued as he stared blankly at his headboard.

"Christmas just isn't going to be the same without you," said Ginny, absentmindedly tracing the muscles on Harry's arm.

Harry felt a shiver race down his spine. He turned and looked Ginny in the eyes. He leaned in to kiss her but she leapt from his bed, and with a hurried apology she dashed out the door, leaving Harry open mouthed and speechless on his bed.

"What are you doing here?" Uncle Vernon asked as he opened the door.

Harry didn't say anything. He just handed his uncle a note from Dumbledore and walked through the doorway, dragging his trunk behind him. Uncle Vernon read the note with a look of distaste on his face. "All right," he said when he'd finished. "Get your stuff upstairs before any of the neighbors see you."

Harry lugged his trunk up the stairs and slammed his door. He didn't bother to unpack. Instead he threw himself onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd made up his mind. If he had to be here for two weeks, he was going to avoid the Dursleys as much as possible in that time.

For the first day or two, this worked out well. He only went out of his room to use the bathroom and just long enough to grab a meal and bring it back to his room. The rest of his time he spent reading the book from Hagrid he'd managed to smuggle into his room when the Dursleys locked all his magic things in his old cupboard, or he wrote to his friends. He put on a cheerful front for them, but really, he was bored out of his mind.

Harry was up in his room at the end of day two when he heard the doorbell ring. Figuring it wouldn't be for him, he ignored it and continued with his letter to Ron. His head snapped up when the door slammed downstairs and footsteps pounded up the stairs. Quickly, he rolled up the parchment and shoved it in a drawer. Then he threw himself on his bed and pretended he had been staring innocently at the ceiling.

Right on cue, the door to his bedroom burst open, and Uncle Vernon stormed in. Harry sat up.

"You told someone, didn't you?" he said, advancing on Harry.

"What do you mean? What did I tell who?" Harry asked.

"That boy, Mark; he was just here and he said something about your school. You know full well that we will not tolerate anyone knowing about your abnormality,"

"But I didn't tell him! He—" but his words were cut off when his uncle aimed a vicious backhand at him. Harry landed back on his pillow, his cheek stinging so that his eyes watered. He put a hand to his lip and felt it bleeding. He wiped it away and tried to finish his sentence. "I didn't tell him," he spluttered. "He goes to Hog—" again he was interrupted.

"Don't you lie, boy," Vernon growled.

"I'm not. He goes to my school," Harry gasped. "Geez, it's no wonder you lost your job and can't get another one," he muttered under his breath when his uncle turned his back to leave.

Vernon froze and turned back around. Harry gulped. He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. "What did you say?" Uncle Vernon snarled.

"Nothing," Harry said innocently.

His uncle walked back over to him and shoved his purple face in front of Harry. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," repeated Harry.

"No, you didn't," hissed Uncle Vernon, grabbing the back of Harry's neck. Harry cringed. "You're the reason I can't get another job, boy." He threw Harry on the floor.

A sudden rage bubbled to the surface and Harry could control it no longer. He glared up at his uncle and stood, drawing himself to his full height. "No," he whispered, anger flaring in his emerald eyes. "No. You can't blame this on me anymore. It's your fault you can't get a job." Harry enjoyed seeing the surprise in Uncle Vernon's eyes at the shock of being stood up to by a boy a quarter of his weight. He continued. "It's your fault your son picks on ten year olds and smokes an—and weighs 500 pounds. It's your fault your family has turned out like this, not mine. I am not going to take this anymore."

Vernon drew back his hand but Harry dodged the blow. "That's not going to work anymore. I'm not afraid of you." He turned around and sat back down at his desk. The he pulled his letter out of the drawer and continued writing it.

His uncle stood behind him for a few moments, but with a growl he headed out the door, slamming it shut behind it. Harry set his quill down with shaking hands and reveled silently in his victory. His celebrating was cut short, however, when Uncle Vernon returned.

Harry whipped around in his chair and watched as his uncle snatched his letter off his desk and ripped it shreds. "Hey!" Harry shouted. Without a word, Vernon started going through all of Harry's drawers. When Harry attempted to stop him, he was pushed away. Eventually Uncle Vernon found what he was looking for because a maniacal grin came over his face. When he stood up, however, all he held in his hands were paper, ink, and Harry's quill.

"Let's see you get out of this," he said as he left Harry's room again. Harry ran to stop him but his door slammed in his face and he distinctly heard the lock click. Sure enough, when he tried the handle, he found it locked.

Harry banged on the door with his fists for ten minutes, but no one ever came to his aid. When he started to lose his voice, he moved over to his bed and sat down on it, trying to think of anyway that he could escape. He glanced over at his window, but his heart sank when he saw that the bars had been replaced from his second year. Slightly panicked, he raced over to his desk and searched for any shred of paper. Not a single sheet could be found. He straightened and tried to calm himself. Someone had to let him out sometime. They couldn't leave him locked up here forever.

With nothing else to distract him, Harry paced the floor of his room. When he got bored with that he lay down on his bed and counted the dots on the ceiling. He lost count around 569 and rolled onto his side for a better look at the clock. It was almost eleven o'clock at night. He went back to his door and started banging on it, hoping the sound would annoy one of the Dursleys enough so that they would let him out. When that didn't work, he tried a different approach. "I need to go to the bathroom!" he called. No one came. He kicked his wardrobe and paced his room a bit more before climbing into bed, hoping things would seem better in a different light.

He woke the next morning wondering why he felt so depressed. After a moment or two he remembered and ran to the door. It was still locked. Harry cursed under his breath. He pulled his desk chair up to the door and sat in it. He was going to get out of this room today. "Uncle Vernon," he called. No answer. "Aunt Petunia…Dudley…" he called over and over again. After half an hour, he heard someone coming up the stairs.

"What do you want?" asked Aunt Petunia through the door.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Harry called back.

Harry's hopes rose as he heard the lock sliding in the door. It opened and he was face to face with his uncle. Vernon grabbed his wrist and dragged him from the room and shoved him in the bathroom. Harry looked at the window. There was no way he would ever fit through that. Harry sat down on the edge of the tub and hung his head.

A few minutes later, his uncle called into him, "What are you doing in there, boy?"

"I'm going to take my shower."

"Hurry it up!"

Glad for the few extra minutes to think, Harry turned the water on. After a few moments, he stepped into the steaming water and let it run over him. His thoughts were interrupted by pangs of hunger and he couldn't focus. He didn't see how it was possible, but he hoped that his friends would come through for him as they had before.

Around six in the afternoon, Harry started to despair. The Dursleys had not been heard near Harry's door since Uncle Vernon had let Harry out in the morning. No food had been offered to Harry all day and he was starting to wonder if his family even planned on feeding him once on his holiday. He'd given up banging on his door and try as he might, he could find nothing in his room that could possibly help him.

Resigning himself to the fact that nothing could be done, Harry curled up on his bed, trying to ignore the sickeningly empty feeling in his stomach.

Harry was unaware that he had even fallen asleep until the next morning when a knock on his bedroom door woke him. The lock slid back in the door and in came Bill and Dumbledore.

"Professor? What are you doing here?" Harry asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"A good question, my boy. Yet the same could be asked of you. What are you doing here?"

"What? But, sir, you sent me back here."

"Yes, but you failed to tell me the whole story," answered the headmaster as he offered a hand to help Harry from his bed. "Thankfully your friends aren't so headstrong as you."

Harry swayed a bit as he stood up. "What do you mean, Professor?"

"Your Weasley friends seemed to think that had I known the whole story I wouldn't have sent you back here. And they're quite right. However, since they knew how much you objected to my knowing this important piece of information, they had to wait until you had left Hogwarts for the holiday."

"So where am I going then?"

Bill stepped in. "Back to the Burrow, at least for a while. I'll have to leave you again, so you'll be back at Hogwarts before Christmas."

"So, Harry, pack your things. Don't forget anything; I don't expect you'll be coming back," said Dumbledore calmly.

A wide grin slowly spread over Harry's face. "I won't be coming back…ever?"

"No. You belong with a real family."