It was a nice, cloudless day over Number Four Private Drive. But to one boy sitting inside the very house, it seemed like the dark and dreary clouds would never lift for his god father (the only person ever close enough to be a parent to Harry) had died and he believed it to be his entire fault.
More enough to his god father dieing; his aunt and uncle weren't quite what you would call supportive in his time of need. His cousin Dudley had started beating up on the younger children as soon as he go home from Smeltings; Harry had rightfully hidden away so he wouldn't be marked as one of the younger children.
It was roughly three weeks after he had gotten home when he distinctly heard a very loud rapping at the door. He quickly dried his eyes and rid himself of his smelly clothes as quick as possible if it was one of the members of the order checking up on him. Crouching near the door, with his window wide open as an escape (there was a small patch of roof underneath his window), he quietly listened to the conversation going on down below.
"I am here on behalf of one Dudley Dursley and one Harry Potter," said a gruff male voice.
"What has he done this time?" bellowed his Uncle, making himself heard.
"Which one?" asked a different, more feminine voice. Harry quietly opened up his door and crept to the staircase to hear better and get a look at the two people. These two different people were dressed very much alike; so very much alike in uniforms.
"Which one?" his uncle asked. "By! The Potter Boy! What could my son have done?"
The woman pulled out a small notebook and read, "On June sixth, we had a report from several people who wish to remain nameless that a boy by the name of Dudley Dursleyhad beaten up three of their children. When brought in, the three children quickly denied saying such when told that legal action would have to take place. They then changed their story to one Harry Potter beating them up. Upon further investigation, we found out that several other parents also had complaints about Dudley and not Harry Potter."
The male continued. "From one Mrs. Figg, we had a report that when your family went on vacation, you left said Mr. Potter there in not so stable condition where she had to then take care of him. According to her, he looked under fed most of the time and was rather quiet compared to Dudley, whom you wouldn't let near her for some unbeknownst reason."
"For said reasons," continued the female, "we will need to be taking them both down for questioning and, if we find that these charges false, we will return both of the boys to you promptly."
"There are two ways we can do this," interjected the male once more, "you can hand them over to be taken now or we will bring in our reinforcement and physically take them out of your house now. It is your choice."
His uncle stood aghast and his mouth was flopping like that of a fish.
"And one last thing," said the lady, turning two more pages in her notebook, "some group called the Order of the Phoenix, still under investigation, told us that they have not seen Harry Potter for some time and are getting quite worried. If he does not wish to communicate with them, we will not force him to."
"Potter, what the hell did you do to my son?" His uncle finally bellowed. "Get your two damned arses down here this second if you want to live to see tomorrow!"
"Take them," he said more calmly, "but if this turns out to be fake, just watch your back.
The woman scribbled furiously on a piece of paper and she turned and said, "just a moment, sir," and handed him the piece of paper.
"What's this?" he asked,his face turned a livid purple.
She smirked. "For threatening an officer. Now, where may we find these two?"