Chapter Three

The Errand

At quarter to eight that evening, Harry opened the front door to the Dursleys house with Uncle Vernon hot on his tail. The police officers had determined that the incident at the museum was a matter of "family affairs" and that as long as the damages were paid for, Harry was free to go. Uncle Vernon had managed to keep his cool at the station, and agreed to pay for the damages; but from the moment they had left the station, Harry had heard almost every insult the book had, as well as few new ones Uncle Vernon had made up on the spot.

Starting up the stairs, Harry pretended he didn't hear his uncle shouting.

"YOU GET BACK DOWN HERE BOY! I'M NOT FINISHED!" The pictures lining the walls of the staircase shook with the sound of Uncle Vernon's voice. Finally, on the second step from the top of the stairs, Harry turned and faced his uncle.

"What is it? I said I'd pay for the damages, I have plenty of Galleons. I'll just have some transferred from Gringotts-" Harry managed to spit out before getting cut off again.

"I don't want your damned wizard money! I want real currency! And on top of that, I want you OUT OF THIS HOUSE!" His uncle bellowed, turning red in the face.

Uncle Vernon had threatened to kick Harry out before, but this time the situation was different. Harry had just cost his uncle at least a thousand pounds, and had injured his son in the process. There didn't seem to be much hope that Harry would be staying here tonight. He glanced over at his aunt, who looked as if she were about to faint, and then turned back to his uncle.

"Fine then, I'll go live on the streets!" He yelled. Just as the sentence left Harry's mouth, there was a knock on the door. Harry froze. He knew who was behind the door. He'd forgotten to mention to the Dursleys that he'd be leaving tonight. He hadn't expected to be gone for so long, he wasn't even packed and yet Dumbledore was here to pick him up.

Muttering something under his breath, Uncle Vernon turned to the door, and swung it open. Standing there, looking calm as ever, was Albus Dumbledore.

"Good evening Vernon," He started, eyeing Harry's uncle as if he had just committed a crime. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything." Harry rushed back down the stairs as his uncle stepped back from the door in a mix of horror and disbelief. Petunia pulled her husband away from the door and into the living room to sit him down. Reaching the door, Harry stepped into his headmaster's view.

"Ah, hello Harry," Dumbledore exclaimed, looking very happy to see that Harry was indeed alright. "Would you mind some company for a short while?"

Harry smiled and nodded, then moved out of the doorway so Dumbledore could enter. Finally catching a glimpse of Dumbledore, Dudley ran into the living room and hid behind the couch. Harry chuckled at this, and led Dumbledore into the living room as well.

Stopping in front of the fireplace, Harry directed Dumbledore to a leather chair his uncle usually occupied at this time of night. Kindly nodding, Dumbledore sat down and conjured up a bottle of mead, offering glasses to Harry and the Dursleys. Harry's uncle declined rather abruptly, but Petunia nodded and took the glass that floated ever so softly across the room towards her. Harry took hold of his glass, and took a sip.

"I assume you're not packed yet Harry?" Dumbledore asked him after a moment.

"Err…I kind of lost track of time sir. I can pack right now if you-"

"It's alright," Dumbledore replied, cutting Harry off. "Pack," he exclaimed suddenly, and Harry could hear noises coming from upstairs. He knew the supplies he would need for the school year were neatly organizing themselves into his trunk. When the noises ceased, Dumbledore spoke again.

"Well now that's out of the way there is something I wanted to show you Harry." Pulling a piece of parchment from his robe, he handed it to Harry. "That is your godfather's will. He has left everything to you. I want you to read over it, as there are some things you will need to do quite soon." Taking the will in his hand, Harry had to fight back tears. Seeing this paper was like admitting that Sirius was really gone.

Ever since his godfather had fallen beyond that veil in the Department of Mysteries, Harry had always clung to a small thread of hope that he'd see him again someday. It was now quite clear that his godfather, the only person left who had truly made him feel safe, was gone forever. Choking back a sob, Harry gazed into the fire.

"Harry," started Dumbledore, "your godfather was a fine man, and a great friend to me. I know that he'd have been the first person to tell you that you need to keep moving forward, no matter how hard life may seem. He wouldn't have liked to see you clinging to his memory like this." Making sure he was facing away from Dumbledore's gaze, Harry wiped a tear from his cheek.

"I know. It's just a little overwhelming sometimes. I'll be alright." He said, wishing he could just let every thought, every emotion he'd felt in the past few weeks pour out of him. This however, was not the time to be mourning loved ones.

As Harry took a seat across from Dumbledore, there was a loud crack to his right. Harry jumped before turning in his seat to see a ragged looking house elf giving him a nasty look. The Dursleys gasped and jumped back onto the couch as if the floor had suddenly caught fire.

"This is nothing to worry about," Dumbledore said to them in a comforting voice, "he cannot harm you." The Dursleys apparently hadn't heard what Dumbledore had said for they did not move from the couch, nor did they take their gaze from Kreacher who was now pacing the floor in the middle of the room.

"Kreacher," Harry seethed, remembering how badly the house elf had spoken of Sirius and his friends last year at Grimmauld Place.

"Kreacher is now your servant Harry," Dumbledore said as the house elf made a rude gesture in his direction, "or so it would seem."

"Kreacher has been given a new master, a master most unworthy," the elf said, bowing ever so slightly towards Harry, "what would Kreacher's mistress say if she knew Kreacher was serving this filthy friend of mudbloods? Oh she would be most angry!" and with that Kreacher burst into a tantrum, yelling and cursing unseen persons. Dumbledore turned his gaze back to Harry.

"Kreacher has indeed passed into your service," He said speaking over the now wailing house elf, "I believe this presents a slight problem." Harry knew what Dumbledore meant by the comment. Kreacher had been the house elf for Sirius a long time. He had overheard many conversations between members of the order, and had seen many things that could be used as information against them.

"Kreacher, shut up!" Harry screamed and the house elf instantly fell silent. Harry looked back at Dumbledore. "What do you suggest we do professor?

"Well," Dumbledore replied as he pulled on his beard, "we could send him somewhere that would be easy to keep an eye on him." Harry thought for a moment but came up with nothing.

"Exactly where would that be sir?" He asked quietly, not enjoying the fact that he wasn't in the know.

"You've seen the kitchen at Hogwarts Harry, you know what goes on there," said Dumbledore, as he looked over at the Dursleys who still had not removed themselves from the couch. Vernon was now swinging wildly at the glass floating around his head.

"You're right," exclaimed Harry, remembering the many elves that ran the kitchen at school. Judging by the amount of work he had witness those elves doing two years before, it seemed like the best place to put Kreacher. "Kreacher," Harry said turning to the elf, who seemed to be enjoying the fact that he was frightening the Dursleys a great deal, "you're to go and work in the kitchen at Hogwarts." Kreacher turned around slowly, and began bowing as he spoke.

"Kreacher does not like his new master but he must obey," and with that, there was another crack and Kreacher was gone.

For a moment there was silence which was however, broken by the sound of Harry's uncle cursing the glass of wine that had still not been touched. Dumbledore waved his wand, and the bottle of wine and the four glasses disappeared instantly.

"You could've at least had a drink," he said, giving Vernon a stern look before turning back to Harry. "Alright then, are you ready Harry?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied, feeling quite anxious to leave. He jumped out of his seat and moved for the stairs to retrieve his trunk.

"There'll be no need for that Harry," Dumbledore said, knowing what Harry was thinking, "I've taken the liberty of sending your things to the Burrow already."

"Well, say goodbye to your relatives then, and I'll be waiting outside."

Harry muttered goodbyes to his aunt and uncle and didn't even bother looking at Dudley as he walked past him and out of the door.

Harry met Dumbledore halfway down the driveway. Dumbledore turned and joined Harry as he quickly marched by.

"You know they do have good intentions Harry," Harry kept moving. No matter what Dumbledore thought of the Dursleys, he didn't have to live with them for two months a year. He was glad he only had to put up with it one more time.

A little ways down the road, Harry suddenly remembered the incident that had occurred at the museum earlier that evening. He was sure that if anyone knew something about that Crusader's Heart thing, it'd be Dumbledore.

"You have a question you want to ask me, do you not? Dumbledore said before Harry was even finished deciding what it was he actually did want to say.

"Sir, do you know of something called theCrusader's Heart?"

"I've never heard of it," Dumbledore answered quickly, a smug look on his face. "What makes you ask?" Harry told him about what had happened at the museum that evening, as well as the dream he had had the night before. Dumbledore listened intently, but said nothing. After a few minutes in silence, Harry grew anxious.

"You have nothing to say sir?" Dumbledore looked at him for a moment.

"I don't believe that this is of any significance at the moment," he said before continuing ahead of Harry, "A marked boy shouldn't worry about such things while he walks down the street in the middle of the night."

"I-but," Harry started, but quickly sighed and continued after Dumbledore.

He had almost forgotten how dangerous his life had become recently. After the Department of Mysteries, Harry and his friends had become marked targets of Voldemort and his followers. Thinking about it now, he was quite surprised that nothing had happened while he was staying at the Dursleys. He suddenly wondered if Neville and Luna had been as lucky. They did not have a safe place to stay like the Dursleys or a powerful wizard like Dumbledore keeping an eye on them. Remembering the suffering his friends had gone through in his dream, Harry could help but worry. Dumbledore stopped suddenly, and Harry, still lost in thought, walked straight into him. Confused, Harry looked up at the headmaster.

"Professor, why did you stop?" He asked, adjusting his glasses. Dumbledore circled the entire area with his eyes before turning to face Harry.

"Alright, this should be good. I take it you've never apparated before Harry?" Dumbledore asked, rolling his left sleeve up. Before Harry could answer, Dumbledore continued. "It is fine, I can assist you. Just grab a hold of my arm here, and hold on tight." Harry placed his hand on Dumbledore's arm. Suddenly all the air was sucked out of Harry's lungs. He closed his eyes quickly, and strengthened his grip on Dumbledore's arm. He felt a peculiar sensation, like being forced into an invisible tube and being pulled towards its other end. But just as it felt like he was going to shrink into non existence, the feeling was gone. It was over. He felt normal again. He had just apparated for the first time in his life, and the feeling of it left him wondering if they could've taken brooms instead.

Opening his eyes and releasing his grip from the headmaster's arm, Harry was greeted by some very different scenery. When his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Harry took a good look around.

While he and Dumbledore had been in the middle of a suburban neighborhood only moments before, they were now definitely in the countryside. A large cornfield spanning acres to the south of them, swayed in the brisk breeze. An ominous looking forest, much like the forbidden forest at school laid only a few hundred feet to their left. The most disturbing sight lay directly in front of them; it was a house. The roof of this place however, seemed to be upside down. It looked as the living quarters were reversed. This seemed to be where they were going. Dumbledore had already started towards the place. Suddenly feeling a little woozy, Harry stumbled a bit as he began to follow Dumbledore.

"What is this place?" Harry said trying not to sound like the apparition that had just taken place wasn't affecting him. Dumbledore turned back towards him, looking disappointed in himself.

"I'm sorry; I forgot to mention something before. There is an errand that you and I need to run," he replied, causing even more confusion for Harry.

"What kind of errand?" Harry asked. Ron hadn't mentioned any of this in his letter. What exactly were they doing in the middle of nowhere? It seemed to Harry that this was an unnecessary risk to be taking while the Dark Lord was running rampant causing chaos.

Dumbledore stood there for a minute, deep in thought. Then, looking at Harry with a slight grin, he said,

"We've come to visit an old friend of mine."

As they reached the house, Harry saw that he had been right. This house was upside down. He followed Dumbledore up a ladder to a balcony on the second level of the house. It may have been the first level though, he wasn't too sure. He wasn't even sure that the building was a house until he saw the inside of the place through a window next to the ladder. The room he was looking into resembled a quaint living room; a fire roared in the fireplace and it looked as if someone had recently been sitting in the rather disregarded armchair only a few paces from it. Continuing to observe the room, Harry heard a sudden knocking. Looking up to see an empty ladder, Harry knew that Dumbledore had reached the balcony, and was knocking on a door. Harry clamored up the ladder and crept up behind Dumbledore just as the door opened.

Standing in the door was a very mysterious looking girl. She couldn't have been any older than seven, and that was pushing it. She barely reached Harry's waist, and the sight of two much taller, much older people at her door was obviously causing some tension.

"Can I help you mister?" She asked, her grey eyes gleaming in the light of the moon. Her arms were shaking; Harry guessed they didn't receive company out here very often.

"I'm here to see a friend young lady," said Dumbledore, crouching down to the girl's size, "I believe you know her. Her name is Cagja Yewdine." For a moment the girl seemed to be lost in thought, looking as if she were trying to remember something from a long time past. Harry stood in silence. He was feeling very out of place. It was becoming a bit ridiculous; traveling to suspicious looking houses, climbing up ladders to reach the top or bottom of the place, then watching the greatest wizard he'd ever known talk to a child as if nothing was wrong in the world.

"Sir," Harry began, but before he could get anymore out, the girl had come to and was speaking again.

"Yes," she said, moving her silver hair out of her face, which Harry noticed looked quite excited, "Miss Yewdine is here. She is expecting company; I'll take you to her Mr. Dumbledore."

Harry followed Dumbledore through the door, and into an odd looking room. It appeared at first glance to be a kitchen; the usual stove, sink and dining table set about the room. It wasn't until Harry felt a drop of water from the ceiling that he looked up and saw it. The ceiling of this room was enchanted, looking almost identical to its larger counterpart in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It was raining, according to the ceiling, which explained the water hitting him in a way, but also left Harry confused; the ceiling at Hogwarts mimicked the weather outside, it didn't create its own weather. And on top of that, the ceiling in Hogwarts didn't cause rain to fall inside the house. This ceiling, Harry thought to himself, must've been created with very powerful magic.

"Sir, have you seen the ceiling?" He asked Dumbledore, who was now well into the next room.

"Yes, very interesting isn't it?" Dumbledore said quickly before gesturing Harry towards him, "we mustn't keep Miss Yewdine waiting Harry, please, come along now."

Disappointed with the answer he received and weary of being left alone, Harry obliged.

They crossed a narrow hallway, and turned left, ending up in the living room Harry had seen on the ladder only a few minutes before. The little girl ran ahead towards the fireplace, and scrambled into what Harry assumed would be the lap of this 'Miss Yewdine' who would now be occupying the once empty chair he'd seen a few moments before.

Dumbledore crossed the room to the chair opposite the one the girl had climbed onto, leaving Harry standing at the entryway without a place to sit. Noticing this, Dumbledore quickly conjured a chair and directed Harry to sit down. As Harry crossed the room, a beautiful voice that made Harry feel completely relaxed and at peace sounded from the chair the little girl had just sat down on.

"It has been a long time Albus," the voice said and Harry was surprised to see a smile had formed on the headmaster's face. "I come to you with dark tidings as well as a request." Suddenly very interested to see the person this amazing voice belonged to, Harry hurried along. He reached the chair Dumbledore had set for him and turned to sit down. At this point his mouth fell open.

"S-sir," Harry gasped in disbelief, "that's Miss Yewdine?"

"Oh, heaven's no my dear boy," Dumbledore said, sitting back and reaching into his robe for a pipe, "this little one only plays her part."

Harry fell back into the chair Dumbledore had conjured for him. He continued staring, open mouthed, as the little girl turned to him and spoke with the same lovely voice he had heard only moments before.

"Hello Harry Potter," said the little girl who now had a very peaceful look on her face, "I am Cagja Yewdine."