Chapter Two

Another Muggle Mishap

The sweltering heat of the summer night made the moonlight dance on the upstairs bedroom floor of number Four Privet Drive. The room looked to be in terrible shape; many books scattered about on the floor, clothes piled up in dresser drawers that were too full to close anymore and Newspaper articles and clippings cluttered over the entire length of the bed in which the young man named Harry Potter now slept.

As the sleeper shifted positions, a few of the clippings fell onto the floor and into the moonlight. A particularly bold headline reading Wizarding Community in Chaos calls for a New Minister was amongst them.

Rufus Scrimgeour, previous head of the Auror office has become the new Minister of Magic, succeeding Cornelius Fudge in a ceremony last week. Greeted with much support and expectations from the Ministry as well as the community, Scrimgeour promised more prominent action against He who must not be named and his followers.

Speculation about the incidents both at the Brockdale Bridge and in the West Country, combined with the recent deaths of revered witches Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance have sparked a feeling of confusion and about previous Ministry involvement. Previous Minister Cornelius Fudge explained at a meeting last week that certain measures had been overlooked… Continued on Page A3.

The young man's arm suddenly jerked forward, knocking a few objects from the nightstand; Pamphlets that included headlines such as "So you've been worried about Dementors?" And "Protecting you and your family from Death Eaters and other followers of he who must not be named"fell to the floor as well as the young man's glasses. Another shudder from the young man showed that his sleep was restless. He seemed to be having a disturbing dream…

Harry was walking through a long corridor, which looked familiar to the seventh floor of Gryffindor tower, yet somehow different. The only light source came from several small candles that were perched in deteriorating wooden shackles secured to the wall. From all around him came the screams of many unidentifiable creatures. A few of the sounds however, Harry recognized as people he knew.

He passed an open door through which he saw several maimed bodies. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were among the victims; still being attacked by creatures Harry had never seen before. Before he could do anything however, the door slammed shut in his face, and his feet continued sending him forward.

As he continued down the hall, now attempting to avoid looking into the many open doors on either side of him, Harry heard two distinct cries. As he passed the next door, Harry caught a horrifying glimpse of Ron; his bright red hair nearly all burned away, Harry's best friend was suspended in mid air. He looked over at Harry who was trying with all his might to charge into the room and save his friend. Harry heard Ron call out to him before a force that Harry could not see began savagely beating his friend. After a few blows the force stopped and Ron was left hanging in a bloody heap; half of his teeth knocked out, his nose broken. Tears welled in Harry's eyes as the door slammed and his feet continued carrying him.

Harry reached the end of the hall, and turned to face the last door. The room appeared to be empty. Nervous and unable to move, Harry continued watching. After a few minutes, Harry began to see what looked like three figures coming towards him from the back of the room. As the figures came closer, he recognized them as Ron, Hermione, and himself. They looked to be sneaking around; looking for something almost. Suddenly the figures turned and looked horrified. A greenish light came flying out of the darkness, and hit Hermione square in the chest. Her body was sent sailing through the air, right through the door, and landed only a few feet from Harry's now immobilized body.

The other figures came rushing through the door, oblivious to the fact that another Harry was standing just a few feet in front of them and bent over Hermione who was now deathly pale.

"She's gone," Murmured the Ron looking figure, before breaking down over top of Hermione. The other Harry looked up at the now petrified Harry who stood before him.

"You," said the other Harry, "you caused this."

Harry was powerless to move as the figure that resembled him readied his wand, and pointed it directly at him.

"Avada…" The figured chanted, with a look of evil flaring in its eyes.

"No!" Screamed Harry as a green light engulfed his body.

Harry awoke with a start. Throwing his blankets off and sending the scattered papers fluttering to the ground, he sat up and flung his lets over the side of his bed. It had only been a dream. Reaching up to run his hand through his messy black hair, he grazed his scar, which he was surprised to find, didn't hurt at all. This fact scared him more than anything in the dream had.

All of his previous dreams in which his friends were hurt always revolved around something with Voldemort. A thought of his, a premonition, a particularly evil thought the dark wizard had had. This however, seemed very different. He had always been an active participant in those dreams, not just an innocent bystander. And why had the other Harry seen him? 'You caused this' is what the figure had said. What had that meant? Harry suddenly wished he could talk to his godfather. Sirius had always been a source of comfort for him after a troubling time, but since the incident at the Department of Mysteries in June that comfort had ceased to exist. A feeling of remorse washed over Harry, but was short lived. A tapping at his window drew his thoughts back to his room.

Getting up and heading to the window, Harry saw an enormous barn owl with an equally large parcel attached to its leg perched on his sill. The owl flew into his room the moment the window opened, desperate to escape the heat. Apparently the record breaking heat wave sweeping across England was affecting more than just its people.

As Harry grabbed the parcel from the owl's leg, he noticed the handwriting and recognized it immediately as Hermione's. Taking a quick glance at the clock, Harry saw it was only minutes after midnight. It was now officially his sixteenth birthday and it seemed obvious to Harry that his friend knew this owl would reach him at exactly this time. Only Hermione would be so precise.

Giving his friend's thoughtfulness a quick smile, Harry opened the package and found exactly what he knew he would: A home made birthday cake and a letter. Unrolling the parchment, Harry read the letter aloud.

Dear Harry,

Happy Sixteenth birthday! I'm sorry I haven't been able to write you this summer, and unfortunately I won't be able to again. I'm traveling in America with my parents, who only allowed me to write this after I bothered them about it for days. The good news is that I will be returning two weeks earlier than them, and will be staying at the Burrow with Ron's family. He has told me that you will be going there soon, which means I'll be seeing you before school starts. Well I'm out of time, and Pig should be arriving there any minute. Have a good summer Harry, and I'll see you in August.

Your friend,

Hermione Granger

P.S: I hope you enjoy the cake.

No sooner had Harry finished reading the letter, Ron's owl Pigwidgeon came soaring into the room and perched himself on the footboard of Harry's bed so violently that he nearly knocked the huge barn owl off. Definitely upset by this, the large owl fluttered about for a moment before flying hastily out the window back into the night.

Harry stood up and reached for Pig's parcel. It seemed Mrs. Weasley had also made him a cake. Dipping a finger into the icing lining the side of the box with one hand, Harry grabbed Ron's letter with the other. Letting the parchment unfold itself, Harry read it.

Hey Harry,

Happy birthday mate! Sorry I didn't write sooner, but I wanted to wait until it was confirmed before sending Pig off. You're coming to stay with us again Harry! Today! That's right, after much hassle from mum, Dumbledore allowed it. He'll be bringing you here himself though. That was the only way he'd allow it. So I'll be seeing you later today, assuming this letter arrived right after Hermione's. Strange one that girl, goes through way too much trouble to be clever. Anyways, see you later tonight!

Ron

P.S: Mum sends her wishes, and says she'll have another cake ready when you arrive. Ginny says hi too…

There was more to the letter, but Harry couldn't read it. Ron must've gotten distracted while writing.

Throwing the letter down, Harry fell back on his bed, smiling at the prospect of leaving the Dursley's later that day. His horrible dream now a fading memory, he closed his eyes. Sleep came quickly, and his new dreams were filled with warm memories of his parents and friends.

Harry awoke to a loud rapping on his bedroom door the next morning. Annoyed, he shoved on his glasses and glanced at the clock; it was only twenty minutes after seven.

"Get out of bed you lazy lump," called Harry's uncle with a seething tone. Harry could picture his uncle's face turning red already. "We're going to be late!"

Harry groaned and stood up. Another pounding on the door rang through his room as he was putting his shoes on.

"Alright already," He said, giving the closed door a look of disgust, "I'll be out in a minute."

Making a quick effort to conceal the letters from his friends, Harry threw them into the chest at the end of his bed, along with several piles of clothes and few books then slammed it shut. He could hear his uncle pacing outside the door as he quickly grabbed his wand and clumsily shoved it into his back pocket before heading out the door.

Not even two steps past the threshold of the door, Harry felt something against his back. He turned to see his uncle facing him, waving his wand in his face.

"You're not taking this monstrosity anywhere today boy," Vernon seethed, throwing the wand back into Harry's room. Harry watched it hit the side of his bed, and fall to the floor before attempting to go for it. Before he could take a step however, his uncle had slammed the door, stepped in front of it, and was pointing towards the stairs.

"We're leaving now."

Harry knew that he could probably force his uncle out of his way, and take his wand back; he was already taller than the man, and by any guess more active. The prospect of having to deal with the consequences however, didn't make the move out to be a wise one. Remembering that he would be leaving tonight anyways, Harry turned towards the stair.

"Where are we going anyways?" Harry asked, taking his time on the way down.

"It doesn't matter boy," His uncle said quietly from behind him, "You're going to behave yourself, and that's all you need to know." Harry descended the last stair, and found his Aunt Petunia waiting with Dudley who seemed to be unusually excited.

"What time does the museum open at?" The mammoth boy asked his father.

"A museum, brilliant," Harry muttered, crossing his arms.

"The main exhibits open at eight," Vernon replied, turning to give Harry a vicious glance, "but due to our circumstances, we won't get there until well after nine." Dudley sighed as he turned towards the door.

"He's good for nothing, just like his parents," Harry heard him say under his breath. He had to restrain himself from dashing up the stairs and grabbing his wand to hex them all.

'Only one more day,' he thought as he made his way out the door, hanging his head low, 'only one more day.'

The muggle museum was turning out to be as exciting as a history class with professor Binns. Most of the exhibits were just pictures of old stuff and people. After lunch however, Vernon and Petunia had opted to let Dudley go off with Harry while they went to view an exhibit entitled "Romance through the ages". Harry was thankful for this at first, but as he followed Dudley through the various exhibits he wanted to visit, Harry found himself wishing he'd hexed the whole lot of them that morning.

Walking across a grand hall, Dudley stopped in front of a portrait of the founder of the first ever museum in England. The caption was long and boring, causing Harry to neglect it. When he did glance up at the portrait however, a strange sensation crept over him. The man resembled Sirius to the tee. Long black hair, a scruffy mass of facial hair that covered most of his face, he even had the same, almost quizzical smile that his Sirius did.

As Harry began to miss his godfather again, Dudley made for a staircase at the far end of the hall. Harry followed him down the flight and into an exhibit entitled "The Lost Artifacts of Ancient Mythology". For the first time all day, Harry felt as if he might actually see something interesting here.

The room was fairly large and contained at least twenty pieces that looked to be Greek mythology oriented. "The bow of Artemis", "Aphrodite's Circlet" , and "Aries' War Drums" were among the most popular attractions, with ten people or more crowding around each one, reading the information provided by the museum about how the piece came into its possession.

Having lost Dudley in a crowd of people coming down the stairs, Harry finally found him in the back corner of the exhibit by himself, staring at what looked like a human heart made of stone.

"The Crusader's Heart", as it was called, contained no information from the museum other than its name. Set on a dark green pillow, encased in glass, the object glimmered as if something inside of was still alive. Harry moved in closer for a better look and noticed that certain portions of the otherwise run-of-the-mill stone contained translucent jewels through which Harry could make out a slow moving liquid. He soon found himself transfixed on it, watching the liquid with an interest he'd rarely felt in his entire lifetime. After what seemed like hours in silence, a voice came from behind Harry.

"What're you staring at?"

Harry spun around to see Dudley giving him a menacing look.

"This stone thing here," Harry sputtered, unsure why Dudley was asking him about something he had just been observing as well, the "Crusader's Heart" or whatever it's called." Dudley frowned.

"Someone's heart? What the hell are you talking about?" he questioned, moving towards Harry, "Is this one of your stupid magic tricks?"

Harry could feel himself becoming annoyed. Dudley was mocking him, he was sure of it. He turned around to face the stone again.

"It's just right-"

The stone heart moved. Harry shook his head to make sure it wasn't some kind of mind trick. At a second glance Harry could clearly see the stone had actually begun beating. Stepping back in horror, Harry watch as a bright ring of light erupted from the object like the shockwave of an explosion. The force of the light knocked Harry to the ground. As he scrambled back to his feet, he looked around. Nobody else seemed to be affected by this phenomenon. Either the eerie light was a common scenario in the exhibit, or no one else could see it.

Just as Harry looked back at the now very alive heart, he was shoved violently from behind. The force of the blow sent him sailing into the piece's protective glass case, sending it crashing to the floor, with himself not far behind. After a moment his vision cleared, and Harry, sill on the floor, turned to face his attacker. It was his cousin.

As Dudley closed in on him, Harry noticed that this wasn't the only extraordinary event going on. The entire room had sprung into chaos; at least a dozen other fights had broken out, people were running in every direction, children were crying and the priceless artifacts of the museum had become projectiles that the fleeing people had to avoid.

Dudley's voice brought Harry back to his own quite dangerous situation.

"Well, well, the magician's lost his wand. Whatever is he going to do?" Dudley chortled at him, imitating a helpless child. Harry felt the anger rising in him. He knew Dudley had been waiting for a moment like this since the day Hagrid had told Harry of his heritage in front of the Dursleys. Harry didn't think Dudley much of a threat when he was carrying his wand, but now, without it, the overgrown boy towering over him seemed quite a problem. Harry decided that the best course of action was to try to talk his way out of this.

"Dudley, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia wouldn't want-" Harry started, but Dudley quickly cut him off.

"Mom and Dad will be glad I did this. They've never wanted you with us. If your freak show parents hadn't died and forced you on us…"

Harry didn't even let him finish. In a surge of blind fury, Harry charged at Dudley. It seemed like at that exact moment, the bizarre occurrences of the past few minutes suddenly hadn't happened. The room fell silent and the only sounds heard were the scream of Dudley as he was hit, followed by the smashing of glass, as the two boys went flying through it. As soon as Harry had realized what had happened, arms were upon him, dragging him to his feet.

He surveyed the room. All the people who had been rioting only moments before were now staring at him in utter disbelief. The room also seemed to be in perfect order again. Nothing was smashed or thrown about. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dudley shrieked as he was helped up by a security guard. Opening his mouth to attempt an apology, Harry was silenced by the enormous guard who had subdued him.

"Save your explanations for the police boy," he bellowed. He shoved Harry towards the stairs. As they were leaving the room, Harry turned back to get one last glance at the Crusader's Heart, the mysterious object that had caused him to attack his cousin. It was no where to be seen. A few benches and some plants had replaced the stone heart's exhibit. It had vanished.

Harry couldn't believe it. How could something vanish out of thin air without a witch or wizard casting a spell? He took a quick glance around the room, but quickly realized that if a witch or wizard was among the now thickening crowd, there would be no way to pick them out. The object must be magical to have caused that sort of reaction in people. Then again, what if he was just imagining things? Had the Crusader's Heart even been there at all? What if he was just going mad?

All these thoughts crossed Harry's mind as he sat in the hall across from the security office. Dudley was inside the office getting his injuries attended to. The Dursley's came around the corner, escorted by two police officers. Uncle Vernon's face was a deep maroon, matching the colour of the jacket he was wearing. Magical mystery or not, one thing was for sure, Harry was in big trouble.