Chapter Four by Morsmordre

A/N: Wow… thank you so much for all of the reviews!!! And to those of you who were confused why it suddenly went down to three chapters, it's because I decided to rewrite the first six chapters and turn them into two (chapters, I mean). I also edited some parts. Now, this took a really long time because I didn't feel like writing what happened in Order of the Phoenix in my own words, but I finally did anyway. PLEASE REVIEW!!!

-Morsmordre

Anonymous Review Replies:

S. S. – Thank you for the review!!! I suppose the first few chapters were OK, but I reposted them anyway and edited some parts, and now I think it's better than before. Please review!!!

Person – Thanks! I never get tired of reviews that say things like "very good, update soon"! LOL. R&R!!!

Jenny/Jen C/Jennifer C/Jenny C/whatever you want to be called – Jeez… Thanks!!! (I'm sorry, but that's all I can think of to say…) Here's the update!

Oh, and one review on my story is from myself—I just used it to say that the author's note was supposed to be all in bold, not just the "I hope" bit. But then, I deleted the chapter that was the author's note, so… yeah. Sorry if that confused ya!

Hope you enjoy!

P.S. I have an AU story called Starting Over in a New World, which is about Harry and Neville winning the final battle but because everyone they love are dead, they travel to an alternate universe, one where there is no Boy-Who-Lived and one where Voldemort is still alive, to start over. Plus, my little sister, Clara, has a story called The Marauders' First Year at Hogwarts, and the title is pretty much self-explanatory. Just click "Morsmordre Justin-Tim-E Clara" at the top of the page to see the stories. Just thought you might like to know! ;)

"Popkin! I was getting worried; you were taking rather long—POPKIN! What's the matter?"

Harry ducked into the house and slipped silently toward the stairs; the Dursleys—including Uncle Vernon, who had just entered the room—didn't notice him, which suited him just fine. It was better to get upstairs into his room before the Dursleys came and blamed him.

There was a retching sound and Harry winced as he heard something that sounded suspiciously like vomit hitting the floor. (A/N: Ew…)

"Vernon, he's sick! What's the matter, Popkin? Can you hear me? Dudley?"

"Dudley, what's the matter?! Did you have food poisoning?"

Harry was almost at the top of the stairs when he heard Dudley finally speak. "Him."

"BOY! GET BACK HERE!"

Harry winced and came down the stairs to face his furious uncle, worried aunt, and sick cousin.

"Now," Uncle Vernon growled, his face red with suppressed rage, "what did you do to Dudley?"

"Nothing," Harry responded, although he knew that Uncle Vernon would believe him about as much as he would accept food from a wizard.

Translation: He wouldn't believe Harry.

Sure enough, Uncle Vernon's mustache quivered indignantly. "Do you expect me to believe that?" he spat.

"Yes," Harry answered, knowing that he would pay for his cheek.

Surprisingly, Uncle Vernon didn't do anything but glower at him. Then, apparently deciding that he was going to make sure his son was all right first, he turned to Dudley. "Dudley, what did he do to you? Did he use his… his thing?"

Dudley nodded, shivering.

Uncle Vernon rounded on Harry, his mouth open and ready to shout, but he was interrupted from a BANG coming from the window nearby. A brown-and-white owl had just crashed into the window and looked extremely ruffled, and miffed as well.

"I WILL NOT TOLERATE OWLS HERE!" Uncle Vernon roared, but Harry had already walked to the window and let the owl in. The owl dropped an envelope on the countertop before flying away.

Harry ignored his uncle's rant about "effing owls," as he so kindly called them, and opened the envelope to read the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-nine minutes past six this evening at a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle.

The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand.

As you have already received an official warning for a previous offense under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the twelfth of August.

Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

Harry read the letter through five times, and as his emerald green eyes scanned the sheet of parchment a sixth time, he felt a numb sensation: a tightening feeling in his chest, as if an ice-cold hand was gripping his heart. He was expelled from Hogwarts, and he would never be going back.

His brain dimly registered that his uncle and aunt were now discussing something quietly, but he didn't even hear what they were saying—he could only hear their voices.

Harry clenched the letter in his fist and crumpled it into a small ball. He tightened his hold on the parchment.

"Now, I won't say this again, boy," Uncle Vernon growled, turning back to Harry. "What did you do to Dudley?"

"I didn't—" Harry began, but was cut off by Dudley.

"Did," he whispered unexpectedly.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon immediately rushed to his side. "Tell me, Dinky, what did he do?" Aunt Petunia asked tearfully.

It was all Harry could do to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"Pointed his… thing at me," Dudley said in a hoarse, rather high voice.

"Yeah, but I didn't use it—" Harry snapped, but he was cut off by Uncle Vernon this time.

"SHUT UP!" he snarled, and then breathed heavily before turning back to Dudley. (This looked as though it took a great deal of effort.) "Go on."

"Then… then h-he—"

A screech owl swooped into the room through the window and dropped an envelope on the floor before flying back out again.

"I WILL NOT HAVE OWLS IN THIS HOUSE!!!" Uncle Vernon glared daggers at Harry, who stared back defiantly until Uncle Vernon turned away and looked back at Dudley, urging him to continue with his story.

Harry tuned them out for a moment to read his letter. It was actually two letters in one envelope—one from Mr. Weasley and one from Sirius.

The one from Mr. Weasley read:

Harry –

Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.

-Arthur Weasley

Dumbledore was trying to sort it all out? Did that mean there was a chance he would be let back into Hogwarts?

Harry stuffed the parchment back into the envelope and read the second letter.

Arthur's just told us what happened. Whatever you do, don't leave the house again.

Harry clenched his teeth in anger. Wasn't anybody going to tell him exactly what was happening, and why it seemed as though everyone were together at the same place? What about single-handedly driving off two dementors? Wasn't a single person going to say good job?

Harry crumpled Sirius's letter as well and stuffed it in his jeans pocket, just to hear Dudley recount to his (Dudley's, that is, not Harry's) parents, "Went all cold… h-heard… things in my… h-head…"

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon exchanged a dark look. On the list of things they hated the most, people hearing voices was definitely near the top.

"Like what?" Aunt Petunia asked breathlessly, tears of worry in her eyes.

But Dudley shuddered and shook his head, refusing to speak.

Harry had to wonder—Dudley had led a perfect life (perfect to him—Dudley, at least), being Mama's boy and always getting what he wanted. What was Dudley's worst memory?

"So," Uncle Vernon said, rounding on Harry. "So… you made him hear… things in his head, did you?"

"It wasn't me!" Harry snapped, beginning to feel very irritated by now. "It was four dementors!"

"And what are these… dementor things?"

"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban."

Harry gaped at the person who had spoken: Aunt Petunia.

"How do you know that?" Uncle Vernon demanded.

Aunt Petunia looked horribly flustered, as if she had just spouted a swear word instead of a fact. "I… I heard… that boy telling … her about them… y-years ago," she stammered.

Harry was, needless to say, shocked. How had his aunt grasped onto this fact and kept it for years, when she spent most of her time pretending the wizarding world didn't exist?

Just as Uncle Vernon was about to say something, a brown barn owl swooped into the room and dropped another letter on the countertop.

"ENOUGH WITH THE EFFING OWLS!!!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, his face now purple with anger.

Harry ignored him and bent down to pick up the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Further to our letter of approximately fourteen minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on the twelfth of August, at which time an official decision will be taken.

Following discussions with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry had agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further enquiries.

With best wishes,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't expelled after all. Not all of his fears and worries were gone, though… it would all come to the twelfth of August.

"What do these dementoid things do?" Uncle Vernon demanded, breaking up Harry's thoughts.

"They make you remember your worst memory," Harry replied dully. "If they get a chance, they Kiss you."

"Kiss you?" Uncle Vernon repeated, his eyes bulging slightly out of his head.

"That means they suck the soul out of your mouth."

Aunt Petunia screamed and grabbed Dudley and shook him a bit, as if that would ensure that he still had his soul. "They didn't… he still has…"

"Of course they didn't get his soul; you'd have known if they had," Harry interrupted impatiently.

"So you drove them off, did you?" said Uncle Vernon, a bit too loudly.

"Yes, they would've got his soul if I didn't use magic—"

With all the excitement (not that it was particularly exciting—just exhausting), Harry had forgotten about the Dursleys' unspoken rule.

"DO NOT USE THAT WORD IN MY HOUSE!!!" Uncle Vernon howled.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, insincerely. "I'll be going now…"

Nobody bothered to stop him as he hurried toward the stairs to get to his bedroom, where he could lie down on his bed and think in peace.

A/N: So… should I stop here? I mean, this chapter is plenty long enough for my standards. But then, you read the same thing that happened in this chapter in Order of the Phoenix, just in different words, minus the Howler and all. So… I'm continuing! Feel free to thank me, and all reviews are accepted and appreciated! ;) Plus, I'm sorry about putting this in the middle of a chapter; I won't do it again.

"Does Harry like Quidditch?"

The three men (Remus, Sirius, and James—refer to chapter two) were back at Grimmauld Place, in the kitchen. Sirius and Remus were filling James in on what they knew about Harry. They just hadn't told him about some of Harry's… greater accomplishments. They would leave that to Harry himself.

Dumbledore had Flooed to the Ministry, for some unknown reason. The three men were now sitting at the kitchen table, drinking butterbeer, and talking about everyone's favorite subject: Harry James Potter.

"Yes," Sirius grinned, answering James's question. "He made the House team in first year as a Seeker."

James choked and spat out his mouthful of butterbeer. "W-What?" he coughed. "No one makes the house team in first year."

"Apparently, Harry did," Remus replied, grinning.

"But… but it's against the rules to have a broom in first year! He can't have ridden one of those old brooms Madam Hooch has! It's been fourteen years, broom technology has to have improved! He couldn't have ridden an old broom during matches! And McGonagall would confiscate it if he had his own broom!"

Sirius smirked. "Apparently Harry was so good at flying that McGonagall made an exception in the rules."

"That's not fair!" James sulked. "Why did she have to disregard the first-years-no-brooms rule after I leave Hogwarts?"

Remus and Sirius both snickered.

"So… who's his Snivellus?"

Sirius and Remus glanced at each other. "Draco Malfoy," Remus finally replied.

James raised his eyebrows. "Draco Malfoy? Not that git Lucius Malfoy's son, by any chance?"

"That's the one," Sirius confirmed.

Just then the fire in the kitchen flared green and Dumbledore stepped gracefully out of it, while a tall, balding man with flaming red hair followed him. They both looked extremely grave.

"Albus, what happened?" Remus demanded. He could tell from the looks on their faces that the news was bad.

"Harry was attacked by dementors at Privet Drive," Dumbledore replied grimly, just as the other man asked, sounding confused, "Harry? Why are you here?"

"It's not Harry, it's James. James Potter," Sirius jumped in. "It turns out he wasn't dead after all."

The man looked shocked. (Understatement of the century.) Finally he managed to open his mouth and say, "Congratulations. I would sound happier, but this is an extremely important matter."

"Did you just say Harry was attacked by dementors?" James asked, a worry line creasing his brow.

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "He used a Patronus to drive them away, and he was expelled from Hogwarts because of that."

"What? Expelled???" James roared, jumping up and dropping his bottle of butterbeer with a crash. The glass bottle broke and the sticky amber liquid oozed over the floor, but James paid it no heed. "What do you mean, attacked by dementors and expelled? During your explanations you said that there were people who were keeping an eye on my son. Why weren't they there?"

"Apparently Mundungus Fletcher, assigned to watch over Harry at the time, Disapparated someplace and wasn't there," Dumbledore sighed.

"I'm going to kill him! How dare he—" James started a rant, but Sirius cut him off. "Did you manage to tell the Ministry to at least give him a trial?" he asked, staring at Dumbledore intensely.

Dumbledore nodded his head again. "It was hard, but I finally convinced them."

"Why wouldn't the Ministry give him a trial?" James snapped, tired of being left in the dark. "What's going on?"

Everyone ignored him. Sirius reached for a quill, a bottle of ink, and a piece of parchment and hastily scribbled something on it before handing to the red-haired man. "Here, will you mail this for me?"

The man nodded and pocketed the note.

"What are you all talking about?" James grumbled. "Can someone please explain?"

Remus, Sirius, and Dumbledore all looked at each other. "Harry has to explain it to you," they replied in unison.

James sighed. It seemed he wouldn't be getting any answers anytime soon. Not until he finally met his son again. It would be a long wait…

A/N: NOW I'm finally done with the chapter. Are you people happy? It's about 2,500 words, I'd say. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!! There are 40 people with this story on their alerts list, so if half of them review, I'll get 20 more reviews! I want at LEAST ten reviews, OK? That's one quarter of all the people with this story on their alerts list, so it should be easy enough!!! If I get reviews, I update faster because I have more inspiration. So please REVIEW!!!