(Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any other characters from the Harry Potter series of books are not my characters, I just borrowed them for the purposes of this story. I don't plan to make any money with this story, and I don't want to print it either, except for personal backup purposes. The other characters however are mine, and I'll do with them as I please. Although I'm going to do that with JK's characters too I guess, but yeah, don't sue me.)
Harry mentally prepared himself for the confrontation he was sure he was about to walk into. He entered the living room to find a sight that was most unexpected though; Aunt Petunia was sitting on the large sofa, her legs curled underneath her, shaking like a leaf so that the cup of tea she held in her hands sloshed over the side, but she didn't seem to notice. There were silent tears streaming down the sides of her face, which had gone a pasty colour of white. Harry hurried over to her, and took the cup from her hands, and as he did so he saw that Aunt Petunia's fingers were a nasty red, but she didn't seem to notice that either.
"Aunt Petunia, I know it's been an eventful day, but you've burnt your fingers! See, look, they're all red now," said Harry, in what he hoped was a soothing voice.
"This sort of thing happens to you often doesn't it? Or you were at least expecting it," whispered Aunt Petunia.
"It happens fairly often I suppose, I usually get into trouble at the end of every school year, but Voldemort has been exposed now. He and his followers have no reason to hide. I'm going to get you some water to bath your hand in, and some burn cream ok?"
Aunt Petunia nodded, so Harry got a bowl of water, a cloth, and the burn cream. He came back to the living room to find his Aunt hadn't moved, and even when he placed the bowl of water in front of her, she sat as still as a statue. Harry gently placed his Aunt's hands into the bowl. She winced slightly.
"Aunt Petunia, I wrote a letter to my school's headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, and I sent it with the most secure form of transport I could think of. Hopefully he will reply soon. The main thing is that we are alright, we got home safely, and we'll stay that way. Voldemort probably knows roughly where I'm staying, but as far as I know he can't come near this house, so he probably got tipped off by someone, and sent a few low level Death Eaters to check it out. I'll know more when Professor Dumbledore replies."
Aunt Petunia nodded again, but stayed silent.
"Are you ok Aunt Petunia?"
Before she could answer, there was a sharp knock at the door, and Harry thought he could hear Fawkes 'humming' a tune from somewhere nearby, so ignoring his Aunt's startled yelp, and the water that had sloshed out of the bowl, he jumped up to answer the door. When Harry opened the door, it was to see an old man with a bushy beard, half-moon spectacles, a walking stick, and a parrot perched on his shoulder. If that wasn't bad enough, he was wearing a bright red suit with white trims. Harry noticed that a few of the neighbours were looking out of their windows at the strangely dressed man on their doorstep, so Harry invited him inside.
When the man stepped inside, Harry quickly closed the door behind him.
"Thanks for coming Professor, maybe you can help me with something since you're here," said Harry. Dumbledore frowned.
"You knew it was me? Oh well, what gave it away?" asked Dumbledore, his clothes, appearance and Fawkes changing back to their 'normal' state.
"I don't know anyone else who would knock on the door dressed as a cross between a pirate and Santa Claus, sir," replied Harry, not quite managing to keep the grin off his face.
"Oh dear, I knew there was something off about my outfit. Ah well, maybe next time. What can I help you with?" asked Dumbledore curiously.
Harry motioned towards the living room, where Aunt Petunia was still sitting with her hands in the bowl of cold water.
"Oh dear. Oh dear dear dear! This wont do. Not at all! Have you been confunded dear? Were you hit by a stray curse? Hmm. Maybe she has been petrified Harry, I'll-"
"No! She's just scared Professor! She has every right to be too! I need you to help me explain about this protection, but like I said, I can't explain it if I don't know the details myself. I know the protection lasts for a year and has to be renewed by my staying here, but other than that, I'm not sure," said Harry rapidly.
Dumbledore took a clean hanky out of his pocket, and wiped some sweat from his brow.
"Perhaps some tea is in order," said Dumbledore heavily.
Harry made to go to the kitchen, but was stopped.
"Harry, you may be underage and restricted, but I haven't been for a very long time. I also happen to be a wizard who can conjure tea. Sit down my boy, this could take a while."
Dumbledore looked resigned at this point, and looked at his watch for just over a minute. Harry was just about to ask if the old man was alright, when Dumbledore nodded to himself, tucked his watch into a random fold in his robes and cleared his throat.
"That watch I was just looking at is keyed to the protections that exist around you and your relatives, Harry, some of which are my own and some of which are controlled by something that exists within you."
Harry was confused already at this point, but nodded for the old Professor to carry on, hoping that things would become clearer. Dumbledore looked down at his hand and frowned, then with an "Ah!" he raised one crooked finger at Harry and started rummaging in his robes for something.
"If you're looking for your watch sir, you put it in that fold there," said Harry, pointing towards the fold that he'd seen the watch disappear into only a minute before.
"Ah thank you Harry, there are so many pockets in this thing… all bottomless too…" and after a few more rummages, the watch was back in the old Professors hand.
"Usually it's on a chain you see, but I lost the chain in my pocket this morning. I could conjure a new one, but conjured chains don't tend to be as durable. It's better to buy these important things, but I just haven't had the time… Anyway, this first face here, shows the strength of the wards that I cast on this house myself, a few nights after you were placed on the Dursley's doorstep when I realised that Voldemort's followers would come looking for you. Now these wards are keyed to you Harry, your Aunt-" Dumbledore nodded towards Petunia, "-and your cousin. They couldn't be keyed to your Uncle Vernon, as for some reason the magic wouldn't let me. I had to build the wards to incorporate your blood you see, because the sacrifice your mother made left a trace of itself in your blood. That is how Voldemort couldn't touch you, until he made himself a new body using your blood."
"Sir, it just says 'Three Quarters', what does that mean?", asked Harry.
"It means precisely what it says Harry, the wards I placed on this home are three quarters renewed. When it says 'Full' that is when I begin making plans for you to be transferred somewhere else, as my wards cannot be fully charged until the magic that resides in you is satisfied. The more interaction you have with this family, and the more you are welcomed, the less time it takes for the wards to recharge. The less confident your magic is that you will be safe, the longer it takes for my wards to take effect to their full power. Your magic recognises your mother's blood however, so your magic strengthens my wards to the level they need to be anyway, in order to protect its own. Unfortunately, you have not been welcomed into this home, so instead of taking hours to recharge, the wards take weeks."
Aunt Petunia looked guilty at this. She lifted her head and looked Dumbledore in the eye.
"We didn't ask for him to be left here, and you didn't ask us. I know why your wards don't work so well. I also know why Vernon isn't keyed in properly. Harry's magic stops anyone that means harm from coming to this house, but it can't stop Vernon because he lives here. Harry's magic is like Harry, it wouldn't throw a person out of their own home," Aunt Petunia said quietly, never removing her gaze from Dumbledore's eyes. Harry was completely shocked that his Aunt Petunia would know even the tiniest bit about magic, whereas Dumbledore just nodded, as if he already knew.
"Aunt Petunia, how can you know that?" asked Harry.
Harry's Aunt shifted her gaze so that it now rested on Harry's eyes.
"When you were a baby, Vernon tried to stop you from destroying the house. You said he was a bad man, and your eyes flashed. It was two days after we found you; you woke up screaming, calling for your Mummy…
--
November 1981, The Dursley Household
Petunia and Vernon Dursley were sitting in the living room of their new three bedroom home, playing with their son, who was now eighteen months old. The child was large, but was cute in his own way, with a round face that lit up with joy when he was thrown in the air, and then caught by his father. Suddenly there was a loud noise from upstairs, where another child was supposedly resting.
Petunia quickly ran upstairs, followed by Vernon who was still holding little Dudley. Petunia went inside the room first, and what she saw made her stop in her tracks and stare at the destruction before her.
The cot that the child had been placed in was bent and twisted out of shape, the bars melting into each other in places. Toys were in pieces on the floor, walls, and in the air, and there was a small frightened child tucked into the corner of the room. Pieces of stuffed toys were floating around his head, and the child had a wild look to his eyes, and was clearly panicking. He looked Petunia in the eye.
"Wan' Mummy. Mummy Mummy Mummy! Mummyyyyy!" and with that, the child dissolved into a mass of sobs, and started rocking back and forward. The toys started spinning faster, and a piece of stuffing set alight.
"Bad man. Bad! Geen. Bye bye Mummy."
Petunia got as close to the child as she dared, and spoke softly to him.
"Harry, Mummy and Daddy passed on. They've gone to heaven now. They're up there with everyone else who has passed on, they're not alone, and neither are you. We'll look after you now," she said, stretching her arm out towards the child.
Harry's breathing had gotten harsher, and it seemed that on some level the child understood that he would never see his mother or father again. Harry retreated inside himself, and was shaking uncontrollably by now. He was choking back sobs, tugging on his messy hair, and he flinched as the toys around his head started losing control, and started either launching themselves across the room or exploding inches from his face. There were no burns on the boy, though, and he didn't even blink.
At this point Vernon had turned a strange shade of puce. He looked around at the mess in the room; the broken toys that had been bought only the day before for the new child, and the scorch marks on the floor, walls, and ceiling.
A vein on the side of his neck started pulsing. Dudley started crying.
"ENOUGH!" he roared at Harry's shaking form. The toys stopped flying and exploding, fires were extinguished by themselves, and Harry stopped rocking. Harry looked up into the eyes of his Uncle. Vernon tried to look away but couldn't, as he seemed to be locked in place by an unseen force. Harry was unmoving by this stage. He just kept on staring straight into Vernon's eyes. Suddenly, the small child's irises flashed a dazzling silver, with flecks of colour swirling in their depths, and then reverted back to their usual emerald green. Dudley was lifted out of Vernon's arms and floated across the room to Petunia, who had started whimpering herself at seeing those eyes, and Dudley hanging in mid air. Dudley started screaming when he realised this wasn't part of a game. Vernon however, was lifted into the air and slammed into the wall behind him, pinned in place by Harry's magic.
"Bad man. No 'urt 'arry," whispered the small child.
Vernon started sputtering nonsense from his place on the wall, all the while getting angrier and angrier at the child that was still sitting in the corner. He could safely say he hated the child by now, first spending all that money on the little freak, then seeing everything destroyed only a day later because his stupid parents had gotten themselves killed, and landed his respectable family with this… well, freak. He'd known it wouldn't be long before some hocus-pocus happened, but this was unacceptable! He wouldn't have the neighbours finding out about this abnormality, and condemning the whole family for this one mistake!
"Harry! Please child, let him down!" pleaded Petunia.
Vernon slid to the floor in a heap. He calmly walked across the room towards Harry, and slapped the child soundly across the face.
"Don't you ever use your silly tricks in this house again you little freak, you understand? You live with US now, you follow OUR rules! You parents are dead, they're not coming back! You're stuck here until you're old enough to be thrown out. You're not getting this room, look what you did to it, you don't deserve it! You're not getting any toys either, look what you did to those! You don't deserve anything. We're taking you in out of the goodness of our hearts, just you remember that boy!"
Vernon seemed to forget that he was talking to a 13 month old magical child who had just seen his mother murdered in front of his eyes. Vernon grabbed the terrified child's arm, and dragged him forcefully down the stairs, bumping him along the way, and threw him into the cupboard that was to be the little boy's home for the next ten years of his life.
"You will stay in there boy, there isn't much you can break in there, have fun!" Vernon aimed a kick at the boy before slamming the door shut and padlocking it.
Petunia was still upstairs having heard everything, but not knowing what to do, and trying to quiet her son. In truth she felt sorry for the little boy who had caused this chaos, and as she looked around at the destruction, and then at her own infant son, she knew she had to protect her own first.
--
"I'm sorry Harry, I knew you were terribly upset, but what should I have done? I'm just a muggle. Even as a child you were so powerful, you could have levelled this house with your distress, and the only thing we could think of was to literally stamp it out of you. I didn't agree with the way Vernon did things, I always thought he was a bit harsh, but I hardly ever hit you did I? I… I just tried to ignore you - I thought that if I pretended you didn't exist, it wouldn't feel so bad… I wouldn't feel so bad. I was scared of what you could do, what it could do to the family. Vernon thought that if we could teach you that there was no such thing as magic, then you wouldn't think to use it. Even as a baby you were right though, Vernon was and is a bad man. I do love him though. I would never leave him. I see the good parts of him. He works so hard for his family." Aunt Petunia was in tears.
"Aunt Petunia, I'm sorry for what I did, but I can't even remember doing it. I was a baby, and although I understand you were scared, so was I. You could have given me a break when I was older! Or at least during the day when he wasn't here!" Harry exclaimed.
"No I couldn't Harry, by that time things had gotten into a routine, and even Dudley was involved. If we had treated you boys the same, Dudley might be a better person, but unfortunately he's taken after his father. It all spiralled out of control. I felt bad sometimes, but I admit I saw you more as an inconvenience than part of the family. There were times that I thought that maybe if we treated you really badly, more of your kind would come to take you away. The more that went wrong with this family, the more we needed to blame on you. I know we were wrong. I'm the one that convinced Vernon that we had to be nice to you from now on, I got some money from him to buy you new things, and he agrees that you should take evening classes too. I know it can't make up for your childhood, but at least we're trying to make the rest of your stay as pleasant as possible."
Harry was looking down at his feet, and was barely heard when he spoke.
"Better late than never eh? Years in a cupboard, not being let out to go to the toilet, being treated worse than an animal, being starved and hit… you've got a lot of unpleasantness to make up for. As far as I'm concerned, I don't want to be disturbed by any of you, I'll eat my meals downstairs, but otherwise I'll either be outside or in my room. The fact that your husband is a pig, and your son will end up in jail, and you will end up alone, is punishment enough – now that your conscience has kicked in. In trying to 'squash' my magic, you've made me a better person, and turned yourselves into monsters in the process."
Dumbledore had been silent through the exchange, he'd looked solemn the whole time, and when Harry had finished speaking, there was a tear slowly making its way into his beard.
"Harry, your relatives are not the only ones to blame. I should have checked on you. At the time I knew you were special, and I too was saddened by the loss of your parents, but please understand you were not the only orphan from the first war, and I didn't check on any of them either. To me you were a future student that had been placed in the care of your relatives, that had a nasty prophecy over his head, and I thought that I had protected you to the best of my abilities. I'm sorry to admit that I failed, and for that, you have my sincerest apologies. I will help you as much as I can on the path that you are fated to walk, and not just because I feel guilt. I feel that over the last few years, I have gotten to know you as a person, and I admire you for who you are, not for doing something that you can't even remember, even if it changed the world for the better. Again Harry, I am sorry." Dumbledore looked straight into Harry's eyes as he said the last sentence, searching for forgiveness that he felt he didn't deserve. He had told the truth, and waited for Harry's reply.
"I understand your reasoning Professor, but someone should have checked. I'm a magical child that was placed with muggle relatives, who had just been through some severe trauma. Aunt Petunia was right, if I had completely lost control, there's no telling what I could have done. There should have been a system in place to support my Aunt and Uncle."
"I know that now Harry. I only checked the watch to see the level of the wards, and since you were living there all the time, they were always full, so I assumed that you were alright. Obviously I was wrong. There is no department within the ministry that deals with magical children raised in a muggle environment, but after hearing about what happened when you lost control as a child, and the effects of that on both yourself and your relatives, I feel that it's time that such a department existed. I also happen to have a lot of influence within the ministry, so as soon as Minister Fudge starts to see sense, I will make the proposal. Do you mind if I use your experience as an example? I will not name you, seeing as I know you don't particularly like the attention."
Harry thought that Dumbledore sounded sincere with his words, and he wished he had Shara with him so that he could tell for sure, but Harry decided to trust the old man.
"I don't mind you using it, just be sure nobody knows it was me. The last thing I need is the newspapers getting a hold of any of this. Do you have any idea who would run such a department sir?" Harry asked curiously. He had a person in mind, but wanted to see if Dumbledore knew someone else that would do a better job, although he doubted it. Aunt Petunia even looked interested in the proposal.
"I was thinking that a certain Arthur Weasley would be ideal for the job. I know he loves his children dearly, and the compassion that he and his family have shown you has astounded me. He has raised his children well, and I think that in any situation, Arthur would be fair and try to help everyone, not just the child, as he will understand that most muggles fear what their magical children can do," said Professor Dumbledore confidently.
"I agree sir, I was thinking of him too. Anyone that can raise Fred and George without being permanently maimed, or at least disfigured, deserves some respect sir."
Dumbledore chuckled, and turned to Harry's Aunt.
"Petunia dear, are you feeling any better?"
"Yes thank you, it's a load off my chest, and I can only wish that something had been available to help us all those years ago," and indeed, Petunia had a bit more colour in her cheeks, and had started to apply the burn cream to her hands herself.
"In that case, we should go back to the subject at hand. Like I said, the first face on this watch shows the status of my wards protecting number 4 Privet Drive. Now if I push this button here, there is another face."
Dumbledore held out the watch on the palm of his hand, and sure enough, as he pushed a button on the side of the watch (the one usually used to move clock hands), the first face dissolved and was replaced by a second face, which wasn't so much a face, as a pool of swirling colours. The pool was mostly green, with strands of purple, blue and red swirling through it, much like a small multicoloured pensieve.
"To be honest, I haven't figured out what all of the colours mean yet. I know that mainly green means that your own innate defences are dormant, and that the purple, blue and red symbolise different functions of your innate wards, and I have an alarm set for if the watch were to change colours. It has only done so twice if I remember correctly, and the most recent was when you were at school. Do you remember the time you were being chased by bullies, and you ended up on the roof Harry?"
"Yes sir," replied Harry, annoyed that the incident had been brought up in the first place.
"That was your inner defences. Your magic sensed that you were in danger, and transported you to the nearest place where it thought you would be safe, which unfortunately happened to be the roof of your primary school."
"So what you're saying is that my magic doesn't just protect me from Voldemort, but anyone who tries to hurt me?" Dumbledore nodded.
"So what about Uncle Vernon, he hurt me loads of times, and nothing happened, except that first time?" asked Harry sceptically.
"Like your Aunt mentioned before, your magic wouldn't do anything to harm the people from your own household, it recognised that you were a… shall we say 'guest' in their home, and therefore refused to act on your behalf. Voldemort on the other hand… Before you entered your first year, I had no idea what your magic would do. I didn't anticipate you being able to literally turn him to ash with your hands, but then age makes you complacent… I should learn not to be surprised really. I knew that your magic would protect you, but I never imagined that it would attack him."
"Do you know why my magic is different professor? I don't seem any better than anyone else in my year." said Harry.
"Your magic is different, not better. I believe that your magic is more in tune with its surroundings than even my own is. Your magic sensed that Voldemort had killed the person that had protected you and loved you since birth; it sensed the life and magic leaving her body, and awakened a part of you that would have stayed dormant had you grown up without that horror. At the same time, your mother's magic sacrificed a part of itself through the amount of love she held for you, and her piece of magic merged with your own to form the level of protection needed to resist the killing curse, effectively turning it back on it's caster, leaving you with that scar, and rendering Voldemort as nothing more than a mere spirit. Your scar is what both links you to, and protects you from, Voldemort.
"Each time you meet him, your magic is heightened to amazing levels, even though you may not notice it, or be able to use it yet. The residual magic left in your scar is a permanent reminder to your magic of exactly who killed your mother, and that is why you are the only one who will be able to rid us of Voldemort for good. Your magic despises him so much that one day when you meet him; something will happen that will prevent Voldemort from ever returning to this existence."
Harry had tears streaming down the sides of his face, he'd already seen what happened that night because of the dementors from third year, but to have it described so graphically and to have the actual images in his mind to match with the words made it a whole lot more real than it ever had been. Something told him that the old professor's hypothesis was entirely accurate.
"I saw and heard what happened when the dementors where near, but I didn't understand it. In a way I wish I didn't now," Harry choked out.
"Harry, what I just told you should not give you cause to be sad. What you saw in the mirror of Erised in your first year, your deepest desire was to have your parents with you. Now you know for sure that at least a little part of your mothers magic is with you always, and that it's been protecting you all these years. To me, that is reason to be happy. She's not with you physically, but before dying she gave you a part of herself, that will always be there, until the day that you yourself pass on. Hopefully that day is far into the future! Oh dear, I forgot all about that tea."
Dumbledore waved his wand, and a tea tray appeared in mid air. Another wave, and three teacups appeared. A flick and a twist, and tea started pouring out of the tip of Dumbledore's wand, directed by goodness knows what but the wand was nowhere near the teacups… and yet every last drop made it's way into them. A few more casual flicks and twists, a pot of milk and a few lumps of sugar appeared.
"Help yourselves! Lemon drop anyone?" Dumbledore asked jovially. Harry declined the offer, but Aunt Petunia accepted.
"Accio lemon drops! That should save some rummaging!"
Suddenly there was a great tearing sound, and a bag of lemon drops appeared from a newly formed hole in the front of Dumbledore's robes, revealing an off-white vest underneath. Dumbledore turned bright red, and looked over to where Harry was now collapsed back on the chair, holding his stomach, and laughing so hard that there were fresh tears in his eyes. Dumbledore just smiled at the sight, and tried to remember the last time the boy had laughed like that, before frowning back down at the hole in his otherwise rather majestic robes.
"Ah, no matter! Reparo," and sure enough, the next time Harry looked over, it was as if the hole was never there. Aunt Petunia was nervously hiding a grin behind her teacup.
Fawkes however, was gazing directly into Harry's eyes, and when Harry looked back at the phoenix, Dumbledore swore he'd seen the boy's eyes flicker silver for just an instant… but dismissed it as imagination, after all, that was one amazing story he'd just heard.
Once Harry had collected himself, he remembered that there were a couple of questions he needed to ask.
"Sir, my Aunt mentioned martial arts classes, and swimming and running too. Am I safe outside this house?"
"Once you leave the boundaries of this property, you are no longer protected by my own wards, but if you are with your cousin or your Aunt, then the blood protection still applies," replied Professor Dumbledore.
"That's fine, I'll sign Dudley up for the same classes as Harry, it should help him exercise and maybe lose some weight at the same time. That way if there's any trouble, they should both be alright," said Aunt Petunia.
"That should be fine Petunia," Professor Dumbledore said, nodding and smiling.
"Sir, I have another question. What would have happened if those Death Eaters had attacked us?" Harry really wanted to know exactly what his own protection was capable of.
"Harry, do you remember I said that the second face on this watch had only changed colours twice?" Harry nodded.
"What happened the first time, sir? I don't remember apparating except the incident that was mentioned before."
"I'll answer this one Professor, I was with him at the time," spoke Aunt Petunia in a quiet voice.
"Go ahead then Petunia." Dumbledore relaxed in his seat, and started refilling the teacups, which were all empty by now.
"There was one time when I was taking both you and Dudley to a baby group, when you were about two and a half. We didn't like the group that was close by, so I used to take you both to a baby group that was across town. There were always strangely dressed people that recognised you in the street, and stopped to say hello to you. I guessed at the time that they were witches and wizards of course. Well, one wizard recognised you, and you wouldn't go near him. You kept shouting 'No!' and hiding behind my legs, which was strange because you usually liked to talk to people. I hurried you past him and apologised, saying you were just grumpy. Five minutes later, a group of four Death Eaters with white masks came out of an alleyway further down the street we were on, and started shooting spells at us. Next thing I know, you grabbed me and Dudley, and a huge shimmering blue dome fell over our heads, and nothing they fired got through. Then some sort of energy started building up just inside the dome, and one of the Death Eaters was hit by what looked like lightning. The rest of the Death Eaters vanished after that, taking their fallen friend with them. Neither you or Dudley has ever remembered it." Harry couldn't help but be impressed by himself at this point, it sounded like something out of one of Dudley's comic books.
"Unfortunately I never found out who those Death Eaters were, and although difficult, lightning strikes are a lot easier to fix with magic, so I assume the other Death Eaters healed him rather than leave him to be taken to St Mungo's, where he or she could expose them all. They couldn't have just killed him either, as the disappearance would have been too coincidental," said Dumbledore regretfully.
"Sir, do you know how the Death Eaters knew where we were today?" asked Harry.
"I've asked my spy in Voldemort's ranks, and he assures me that no action of the sort you described was ordered by Voldemort himself, so it seems to me that this scenario was similar to the last encounter. If Voldemort had sent those Death Eaters after you, they would have been far more skilled and you would have probably been forced to defend yourselves. I think that a random Voldemort sympathiser recognised you for who you are, and got a couple of his friends to try to kidnap you to gain favour with their Lord. If you wear a hat when you're out, it should help a bit. It's the hair and your scar that give you away the most you know, your eyes are unique but people do not tend to remember the colour of a person's eyes when they walk past."
Aunt Petunia gave an exclamation from where she was sitting, and quickly jumped up and started replacing things on the tea tray.
"Vernon will be home soon! Harry, you must not speak of this to him! He wouldn't like it at all! Professor, I'm sorry, but it would be best if you left. Thanks for the tea, and for the explanations. A lot of things are clearer now, and I think I understand Harry a bit better for it, but you really must go before Vernon gets back! He's due any minute! Harry, see your Headmaster to the door, then it would be best if you go to your room, at least for a little while. You have a lot to think about anyway."
Harry jumped up as Dumbledore started vanishing the tea set, and Aunt Petunia started bustling around, straightening furniture and putting the kettle on for when Uncle Vernon got home. Harry showed Professor Dumbledore to the door, and when he turned round to say his goodbye's to the Professor, he saw that Dumbledore's suit was now a plain brown, although Fawkes was still a parrot, and the beard and walking stick were the same.
"Thanks for explaining sir. I have a lot to think about. Your clothes are better this time by the way, although it's a shame that muggles aren't allowed to see Fawkes as he truly is," said Harry quickly as he opened the door.
"Thank you Harry, I too have learned a lot this day. That doesn't happen often to an old man you know! In fact I might even need a nap… One thing before I go. I have asked Fawkes to answer you if you call for him; it seems he had already planned to do so, but now… If you need him for anything at all, just call and I'm sure he will answer. Even if you just need your spirits lifted, Fawkes loves sharing his beautiful music… Until next time Harry!"
Harry watched as Professor Dumbledore turned out of the Dursley's front garden and walked past the house next door, and then disappeared behind the next garden's hedge, swinging his stick along the way.
Harry quietly closed the door, and ran upstairs to his room. He closed the door behind him and opened his window a bit further. As he did so, he saw Dumbledore disappear round the corner at the end of the street, just before Uncle Vernon's car turned in.
"Uncle Vernon's back!" Harry shouted to his Aunt. He could hear her rushing to start dinner, and Harry decided that it would be nice to just lie on his bed and think of nothing after all he'd been told. He'd think about it all later, after his brain had rested, and his stomach had at least been filled. He lay down, pulled his pillow out from under his head and stuck on top of his face instead. Harry sighed, and two minutes later, he was snoring.
"Busy day for your brain huh? Sucks to be you," and with that, Saera carried on reading her book.
(A/N: Yes, I know that seems like a hell of a lot of info for only the fourth chapter, but since there's a hell of a lot of plot to come, I decided that a) Harry deserves to know for once, and b) it helps to explain how magic works in my own mind, for later use in the story. The plot will be a lot easier to digest - hope you don't get constipation - if you readers know how the hell the stuff works in the first place.)