There was still about ten minutes to go but he was pacing nervously up and down.
What if he didn't show up? He had promised to be there but what if he didn't show up? This was his ticket out of here and he had no intention of letting it go.
He only hoped the Headmaster would keep his word.
If you had asked him about it till this summer vacation, he would have categorically told you that he trusted the Headmaster in all aspects.
That he had never had reason not to fully believe the man.
But now, Harry wasn't so sure. Oh he knew that he was trustworthy. It was just the level of trustworthiness that needed to be determined.
And at the moment he was unsure where Dumbledore stood on that scale.
Deciding to pursue that matter for a later time, he focused on making sure that he had left nothing behind. He did not want to give Vernon and Petunia, his Uncle and Aunt, the pleasure of throwing anything away of his which would no doubt have been precious to him. (Every single item he had was a treasure to him and he had no intention of ever parting with any of it)
Assured that he had cleaned out his cupboard and whatever was beneath the loose floorboard, he looked over at Hedwig's cage.
He had sent her off earlier in the evening, as he knew that she would appreciate a long flight, a workout and a chance to hunt after having been cooped up for the vast majority of the holidays.
As he thought of Hedwig, he had the rather odd thought that perhaps she could read. He had no way to prove it and he wasn't sure if it was imagination or not, but he was sure that Hedwig had become more affectionate and protective of him after he had gotten Sirius' letter. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him, because he thought he had seen her reading the letter and then giving him a sad look as she finished it.
That whole thing had been weird.
Shaking his head, Harry came back to the present. The whole set of things that he had done had lasted about five minutes, giving him about the same amount of time to take his stuff down and await the arrival of the Headmaster.
His trunk wasn't heavy, but it was still quite a chore to bring it to the ground floor. His instructions had been very clear - under no circumstance was he supposed to drag the trunk along the floor.
Left with no choice, and balancing the rather bulky trunk awkwardly, he had just managed to bring it down the stairs when the five minute timer went off and the front doorbell rang, both at exactly the same time.
Vernon's shout of "Boy!" very nearly had him dropping the trunk onto his foot, but at the last minute he managed to right himself and place it down correctly.
And then placed Hedwig's cage on top of it which he brought down first in a rare moment of foresight.
Thanking whatever god had given him that advance warning, Harry hurried to open the door. He did not want whoever it was on the other side (and that would most likely be Dumbledore himself) to ring the bell a second time.
After all it was close to midnight and so, for probably the first time in his life, Harry agreed with his uncle that it was perhaps the worst time to pay a visit.
Looking through the peephole showed him an old bearded man, who looked extremely tired and had had probably very little sleep. At the moment he wasn't looking at the door but seemed to be peering at something in the bushes (Harry had no idea what he was looking at though, given the lateness of the hour, it would be very difficult to see anything there). He was dressed as always in robes whose colours would have been welcome at a circus, but not in general use. But then again that was how the man had always dressed. So it wasn't much of a surprise really.
Harry opened the door quickly. While it wasn't winter yet, standing outside at around midnight was never the best thing to do.
The minute the door opened, the Headmaster's eyes and body swiveled to face Harry with his wand outstretched.
For a moment Harry cursed himself. He had his wand in the back pocket of his jeans (something he knew would have driven Moody crazy) and not in his hand as the situation would have merited.
There was nothing spoken between the two for a short second. After which, Dumbledore while still pointing the wand straight at Harry asked in a voice that was filled with authority and which he had never heard directed at him.
"What happened to the phoenix in my office the first time you were in it?"
Harry barely paused before answering, "It burst into flames. I was very worried when I told you that I had done nothing when you chuckled and told me that Fawkes was approaching his burning day and that you were asking him to get a move on"
Dumbledore held Harry's gaze for just another second before nodding and putting his wand down.
In a flash, Harry had drawn his and pointed it at the Headmaster. He might have convinced the Headmaster, but he wanted to be doubly sure before he was.
Thinking long and hard, Harry asked him a question, the answer to which had always puzzled him.
"When I asked you what you had seen in the Mirror of Erised, what was your reply?"
Dumbledore too did not pause in his reply, "I told you that I saw myself getting a pair of woollen socks. I had bemoaned that year after year people kept giving me books and all I longed for was a pair of good quality woollen socks."
Satisfied with the Headmaster's answer, Harry put his wand down but still gripped it tightly.
He might be convinced that this was indeed Albus Dumbledore. He might be convinced that this was amongst the greatest wizards that the magical world had seen.
But after recent events he sure as hell was not going to let his guard down. Nor did he trust the Headmaster completely.
It was always better to be safe than to be sorry.
The feelings coursing through Harry were mixed. On the one hand he had felt relieved that Dumbledore had kept up his promise and had arrived arrives exactly as promised and he was glad to see him.
On the other hand though, it was still hard for Harry to digest some of the things that Dumbledore had and hadn't done.
And it was going to take a while before his emotions could settle.
Dumbledore too seemed to realize that. While his eyes had been steely the time he had asked his questions, they were now tired and resigned. It seemed like the proverbial wind had been knocked out of the man's sails.
Realizing that they were still standing outside in the cold and surprised that his uncle hadn't yelled at him yet, Harry hastily ushered Dumbledore into the house.
Vernon, who had been getting impatient with the worthless boy's slowness in attending to the door, was striding angrily in the direction of the entrance when he froze.
Dumbledore had just walked into the house.
Vernon knew that Dumbledore would be visiting today. He had informed them well in advance. And while it had irritated Vernon to no end, he was glad for it.
It meant that the brat would leave and they would have completed their end of the bargain for this year.
Nevertheless it was still overwhelming for Vernon Dursley when he faced Dumbledore.
Oh it was not about the power contest. That one there was arguably one winner.
It was the way the man dressed and the way he seemed to flaunt his freakishness that caused Vernon to pause.
He remembered the time from five years ago when that man calling himself Hagrid had decided to transform Dudley into a pig. Both father and son still had nightmares about it.
No, while he was glad that the freak would be out of his hair soon, it was unnerving to have a bigger freak in the room.
Harry had watched with interest. He had expected his uncle to blow his top, but surprisingly the man seemed to have frozen.
Interesting.
Dumbledore for his part seemed to pay no mind. He cheerfully looked around, although his eyes still retained their tired look, bade Vernon a good evening and continued surveying the house. One would think that he had come to inspect the house and enquire if it were for sale rather than having to escort a teenage boy somewhere else.
Dumbledore started humming a tune to himself. Harry had no idea what tune it was and wasn't very keen to find out.
What he was keen to find out was why his Aunt Petunia had not come down to the living room. Dudley he could understand, his cousin was still very scared of wizards, particularly ones that radiated power and could change you into a pig at a whim.
But his Aunt? He had no idea.
Finally, after what seemed like a long time, but in reality was just a couple of minutes, Dumbledore turned his full attention to Harry. Raising an eyebrow, which seemed to ask the question in itself ("Are you all set and ready to go?") and receiving a nod in response, Dumbledore too nodded back.
His attention then turned to Vernon Dursley, who seemed to be building himself into a rage and whose face was turning more and more purple with every passing minute.
Dumbledore's voice, when he spoke, was ice cold and it was interesting to see the shock and the colour drain from Vernon's face at Dumbeldore's words.
"Listen Mr. Dursley, and listen well. I am not going to repeat myself. For far too long you have seen me as an extremely soft-spoken person. But always remember that the ones who are most effective are the ones who talk softly and carry a big stick. Being a wizard, I daresay I have to remind you that I do carry the latter.
I had asked you and your wife all those years ago to take good care of the child left at your doorstep. Was it wrong on my part to have just left the baby at your doorstep with simply a letter by means of explanation? Yes, it was. I have no qualms in admitting that now. I did what I had thought was best at that point of time. Given a chance to revisit it, I would have done it better.
But know this Dursley. I would have still left that child, that stands beside me as a fine young man today, with you. Not because I wanted to sentence him to a horrible life. But it was the only way to ensure both your safety.
Yes Mr. Dursley. The very reason that you are still alive is because I had placed young Mr. Potter here and invoked ancient protection. Were it not for that, you would have been dead that very night Voldemort had fallen. Make no mistake about that"
Turning to Harry, Dumbledore continued, "I must apologize again Harry. I should have done this in a much better way. But I did it in a way I thought best and in the most time-efficient way that I could think of. I see now that I should have had far more checks and balances in place. But I still stand by what I told your uncle. That you both remain alive only because of the ancient magic that was invoked when I placed you here the first time. The protection that stems from the common blood that the Potters and the Dursleys share - the blood of the Evans."
Harry said nothing, his face remaining stoic and impassive. Dumbledore, not used to not receiving a reaction from Harry, but happy nonetheless that there had been no shouting, continued just before Vernon was about to open his mouth in rage.
"Again Dursley, listen good. The terrorist Voldemort is back. And unfortunately for both your family and Mr. Potter, he used the blood of Mr. Potter to resurrect himself. I do not know the details of the ritual nor do I think it is necessary for you to know.
What you need to know is that your lives are in danger. One can argue that your lives were in danger since last year, the end of Mr. Potter's fourth year, when he came back to a body form. But the past year, all through Mr. Potter's fifth year, he had been moving very stealthily.
But now his cover has been blown wide open. And he was confronted and defeated again by your nephew who stands before you. Your nephew, who you deem to be worthless and a freak has been the reason why the terrorist has been kept at bay.
And now he is out in the open. You will be a target. He doesn't know you and doesn't care if you sympathize with him in your mutual hatred for Mr. Potter.
But he will use you, torture you to get Mr. Potter to come to your rescue and then kill you.
Make no mistake about that.
The blood protection that I had invoked will no longer stand if he decides to attack your house.
And again, make no mistake.
He has enough spies in the Ministry to know where exactly you live.
That is how your son, Mr. Dudley Dursley and Mr. Potter were attacked before the beginning of Mr. Potter's school year.
Take my advise.
Move somewhere else. Somewhere far away.
If you don't, it is as good as signing a death warrant for yourself."
On that ominous note, without even pausing to see what Vernon had to say, Dumbledore turned towards Harry and began to take a few steps in his direction.
That was when Mount Vernon erupted.
"You fool! It is all your fault! If you, this freak over here and all your freak friends hadn't entered our lives, we would have been so much safer! And now you have the audacity to tell us that we are in danger because you endangered us and we are supposed to flee our homes? Are you out of you f****ing mind? Who gave you the right to make decisions for us? I should have insisted to Petunia that we leave the boy at an orphanage! But no, she had to overrule me on that one and now we are in danger! All for something we don't believe in and are not a part of! You absolute bastard!"
Vernon took a couple of steps towards Dumbledore who hadn't moved a muscle nor had the expression on his face changed. When Vernon went to grab the Headmaster's left hand (the hand that was closest to him), he pulled back and it was in that moment that the hand was revealed.
Vernon, who had been walking towards Dumbledore with determination in every step stopped in shock.
Harry, who was still standing next to his trunk, too looked on in utter bewilderment.
Where there normally was a full length arm flesh coloured arm, there was one that seemed to have shrunk and had at the same time been blackened. The robes had done such an admirable job of hiding the issue that neither Harry nor Vernon had noticed anything amiss.
Now though, it was a different story.
Seeing that both the other occupants of the room were now focused on his arm, Albus cleared his throat to bring their attention back to him.
"As you can see Mr. Dursley, that is not the hand I would want to battle you with. If it will help you, you may throw a punch at me. But please spare my nose. It has been broken too many times that I fear that one more punch on it and even magic will be powerless to help." Here he paused, hoping his attempt at some self-deprecating humour would work. It didn't.
Both continued to stare alternatively at him and at his left hand, although it was clear that Dursley's shock was slowly evaporating and rage once more was taking its place.
"Again Mr. Dursley, you heard only what you wanted to hear. You assumed that you were brought into danger because of my actions and because of young Mr. Potter here? Did you even hear what I had told you properly? Clearly you did not. For if you had, I had mentioned very clearly that the only reason you are still alive and haven't been attacked is because of Mr. Potter's magic and the Evans blood. Let me tell you that if Mr. Potter were not here, then it would be next to impossible to hide you from the allies of Voldemort and you would have been hunted down faster than you can count from ten to zero."
"I have said it once and I will say it again. I hope I do not have to repeat myself again after this and that everything will be crystal clear after this chat", Dumbledore said with authority in his voice while peering over his half moon glasses. Seeing as he had limited options, Vernon nodded jerkily. The old bearded man had stayed consistent in his story - even the first time he had mentioned that the survival of the Dursleys was only possible because of the presence of the brat. And while his rage had been genuine, Vernon had also been hoping to catch the Headmaster off guard and see if he would balk and spin a different tale under pressure. Credit to him though, that his story had remained the same as ever. Which meant one of two things - He was either an exceptional actor capable of reacting to people's emotions effortlessly, or he was telling the truth.
Vernon couldn't figure out which was worse.
Dumbledore continued, "So as it stands, it is in your best interests to move out of this location quickly. Personally, my opinion is that you should move out of the country itself to reduce chances of being attacked. Make no mistake. He will come. He will take you and use you as bait to lure your nephew. And then he will kill you. So move, when you still have the chance. Before it is too late. It is time for you to decide Mr. Dursley, which you value more. Your family and its safety on the word of the people you consider freaks or to be so stuck up in your ways of thinking that you would risk your family for the petty reason that you don't trust wizards and magic?", he finished, sounding rather ominous. With that Dumbledore turned in a flourish to Harry. Seeing that he was still gaping a bit at both the arm as well as the whole scenario that had played out on him, Dumbledore shook his head and waved his right arm in front of his face.
Harry snapped out of the daze that he had been and looked at the face of the Headmaster with some shame. He had not meant to get so lost thinking about what had just transpired but that had precisely been what had happened.
Nodding to Dumbledore, more from wanting to do something than stand and look around awkwardly again, Harry picked up his trunk and began to haul it off towards the main door.
Just as he was about to open the door, his Aunt Petunia came down the stairs and into the living room. From the look on her face, it was pretty easy for anyone to tell that she was mightily annoyed. And Harry couldn't fault her.
Uncle Vernon had very nearly yelled at the top of his voice when he was venting at Dumbledore. Harry was sure that it was very possible that at least a couple of neighbours had heard the monologue that Vernon Dursley had spewed. Not that they would have understood much anyway. They would probably have thought that Vernon was either being threatened or that he had finally lost it.
It was Harry this time, who couldn't decide which was worse. Not that it really mattered to him. Quite a few interesting points had been thrown up during Dumbledore's impassioned plea to the Head of the Dursleys to save themselves.
Harry only hoped that they would pay heed to the warning.
Petunia took one look at Harry and Dumbledore, still standing in the confines of their house, and started shrieking, "Why are you freaks still here? And what have you said to my Vernon that caused him to yell at you? Did you threaten him? You, boy, after all these years that we have protected you, looked after you and sheltered you, you have finally shown your true colours haven't you? What did they say Vernon? DId they threaten to turn you into a pig or something like they did to Dudders all those years ago?"
Now facing Dumbledore, but without pausing to take a breath she continued, "And you. Lily had the highest respect for you. I should have known that the only type of people that Lily would respect are people who threaten others. Just because you have an ability that I don't have and the woman I hate to call my sister had, you think you are so great aren't you? Get out of the house this instant! Both of you!"
"And you, freak, you are no longer welcome in this house! Get out now and never darken our doorstep again!"
Although Harry had never felt that Privet Drive was his home, it did gall him at some level that he was effectively being thrown out of the place he had grown up for fifteen years. And while he didn't agree with it, his mind could understand why the heart felt an ache as his only living relative banished him from their home. Dumbledore sighed. This was what he had hoped would not happen. True, he was going to get Harry out of here but the Dursleys had just committed the world's biggest faux pas.
One that definitely couldn't be undone. One that magic would refuse to put back no matter how hard anyone tried Slipping back into authority mode, he locked eyes with Petunia this time round, "Petunia Evans-Dursley, you have just committed a huge blunder. For your sake I would hope that nothing transpires in the next couple of minutes. For if it does, then God save you my lady, for neither Harry nor I will be able to protect the three of you. I assume your son Mr. Dudley Dursley is in his room, hiding from us?"
His tone grew a little cold and it was easy to see that it was laced with anger, "Due to your foolishness in your rage, you have uttered the words I had hoped you would never utter, at last not for the next couple of years when the whole thing could have been resolved more peacefully. All this while, your house was a soft target for Voldemort and his group. What you have done by effectively banishing Harry out of this home is that you have painted your house in flourescent colours and made it much more visible to be under attack. I hope you have a plan of action, because I fear that if we don't all leave from here within the next fifteen minutes, the next time we meet each other will only be in the afterlife, which for you and your family I am afraid Petunia, seems to be pretty soon"
If the situation wasn't so serious, it would have been comical to see Petunia Dursley's face. The colour had receded from her face and she was now left gaping like a fish in the corner. Vernon on the other hand seemed to oscillate between being angry and despairing as he thought of some solution that his family seemed to have gotten into.
After about five minutes, when neither Dursley adult had moved, Dumbledore had decided enough was enough. All those years of leading people to fight against the darkness had given him a keen insight into motivating people to get off their rears and do something productive.
"Vernon, Petunia, grab your essentials, along with a couple of things for keepsake and memory and meet us back here in a couple of minutes. Clothing wise, take only the bare essentials. We do not have time for you to sort through and pack everything. Dudley also does the same."
Turning to Harry, he asked, "Would you mind helping your cousin? I am sure your Aunt and Uncle will have their own hands full at the moment. It is no easy task to pack up and leave from a house that one has stayed in for over fifteen years"
Seeing Harry nod and move towards the stairs in the direction of Dudley's bedroom had still evoked no reaction from the elder Dursleys.
It was now time for Plan B.
"VERNON! PETUNIA! NOW! MOVE MOVE MOVE! LET'S GO GO GO!", shouted Dumbledore in his best military trainer voice.
That seemed to have had the desired effect as both reacted almost instantaneously (granted, their reaction had been like they had just received an electric shock), but they did run around in circles a little bit before hurrying towards different parts of the house.
It seemed like that they had discussed this eventuality a long time back, for they moved rather seamlessly.
Within ten minutes of the army sergeant's call, the elder Dursleys had gotten everything they thought they needed and had placed it near the front door. Harry and Dudley in the meanwhile were hauling a suitcase containing Dudley's things down the staircase.
Harry was surprised. He had no idea that his Aunt and Uncle could react so quickly when tasked with this kind of an overwhelming situation. He had exepcted Uncle Vernon to rage and rage till the cows came home and to be resolute in his decision to stay back and not trust the "freaks". Apparently not. Apparently, his uncle was willing to believe the very people he loathed, to protect his family.
Interesting.
He had expected Aunt Petunia to also shriek and cower and try to protect Dudley from Dumbledore and himself. Yet there she stood, face streaming with silent tears as she seemed to understand the situation that had been placed on them and the finality of it. While Harry had known that she would most likely have trusted the "freaks" sooner than her husband, he was still surprised to see that there seemed to be no caustic and cutting remark forthcoming from her. Again, she too had placed the priority of her family before everything else.
Dudley had remained quiet when Harry had entered his room and had explained the situation. He had certainly not been asleep, not wanting to take a chance and presenting an unguarded opportunity that wizards could take on him.
At first he had been very skeptical about what Harry had told him. But the longer Harry spoke, the lesser had become Dudley's suspicions. The serious nature with which his cousin was conveying the message let him know that this was no joke.
Or if it was, then it was an extremely elaborate and well-planned out one. If their roles had been reversed, Dudley might have played such a prank on Harry.
Might have. That was the key and operative word. After what had happened around last June, he had realized that it was going to be plainly stupid of him to be cruel and vicious to someone who had pretty much saved his life.
Dudley could still remember that day and on particularly depressive nights, it was the visions that he had seen during the attack of this invisible demon things that haunted him in nightmares.
And Harry had single handedly defeated those creatures, had somehow managed to get Dudley up and had brought him home.
No, there were so many ways that Harry could have played a prank on him if he wanted to.
And no, this was no set up either. He had had countless opportunities to get back at Dudley. And Harry had not used a single one of them.
Which meant that this was no false alarm.
Which meant that he had about ten minutes to pack up a lifetime worth of goods.
Which meant he had to get started on it right now.
And for which he couldn't move a single muscle at the moment. His brain was sending him a dozen signals at the same time and if it were possible, he would have split himself into different parts heading in different directions like they used to show in the cartoons.
He heard Harry sigh and knew that he was wasting precious time.
Shaking his head vigorously, he got out of the temporary daze he was in and got to work.
Harry watched in amazement as his cousin moved with a certainty and confidence that he had never seen before. Well outside of bullying people to do things for them, but at that time he wasn't under any time pressure, and was always accompanied by a crony or two.
It seemed there was more to Dudley than met the eye.
Much like his parents downstairs (something that Harry was unaware of), Dudley moved quickly and decisively. He seemed to know what exactly he wanted, though Harry had no idea how Dudley had matured so much. He wondered if camping and evacuation were subjects that were taught and practised in good detail at Smeltings.
The backpack that he had pulled up was filled very quickly as well. And as Harry noted, unlike the Dudley of four years back, who had demanded that they take the television with them as they tried to avoid the tsunami of mails that Harry had been getting, Dudley left most of what Harry would have considered his prized possessions behind.
The only exception was a card collection that Dudley was very proud of. And a couple of photos that had been taken through the years.
Dudley was done in about eleven minutes and once done turned to Harry expectantly awaiting the next instruction in the evacuation procedure.
Nodding to him, Harry pointed in the direction of the door and down the stairs.
Dudley nodded in response and began to walk in the direction indicated, with Harry in front of him. As he passed the door, he turned around and gave a final look at his room, and hesitating to turn back to the direction of the stairs.
He gazed around, his eyes conjuring images of the different things, happy and sad, that had happened in this very room.
He stood there for a couple of minutes before he realized that it would do no good to keep dwelling on the memories and on the past.
Tears streaming down his face, he refocused his attention on to the next task.
Ensuring that his family survived this mess.
Harry had reached the landing and had turned back to ask Dudley to put his bag next to the rest of the packed up stuff.
But Dudley wasn't there.
Harry was a little confused but then he heard sniffling come from above him and understood.
Saying nothing, but realizing deep down in his heart that this was what leaving one's home must feel like, he walked further into the living room and to let Dumbledore know that Dudley was also done. He only hoped that his Aunt and Uncle were also done.
He had heard his Aunt rush up the stairs to the master bedroom first, no doubt to collect whatever was needed.
Which meant that it was up to Vernon to take care of the lower floor, including the kitchen.
That made Harry pause momentarily. He had never seen his uncle spend more than a couple of minutes each day, apart from meals that he took there, in the kitchen. He had no idea if Vernon would even know what take.
Harry sighed and decided to help him out. After all, they had to get a move on and if one extra pair of hands helped then it would be good.
From the way the Headmaster had phrased it, Harry guessed that they really didn't have a lot of time. Whatever it was that he had constructed would apparently fail rather quickly.
Picking up his pace a bit, Harry changed direction to the kitchen. When he got there he realized that his uncle did seem to know his way round. Some of the essentials had been taken while others has been abandoned.
Harry's shock continued as he retraced his steps back to the living room and saw that his Uncle and Aunt were ready. He hadn't noticed coming down the stairs and into the living room, as he wasn't paying attention.
But now that he did, he saw that the two of them had packed everything they had deemed necessary and where now waiting only for Harry and Dudley to join them.
Harry quickly walked across to his trunk and made sure that he had not forgotten anything. Opening the trunk he double checked every single piece of item in there including the book by M.E. Mastor that Moody had given him. He rearranged it so that his invisibility cloak was at the top and could be taken out at a moment's notice if necessary.
The book he pushed further down. He didn't know if Moody had sent the book on Dumbledore's orders or had done it himself and at this moment Harry wanted to neither give the Headmaster any new information nor did he want to confirm its existence and receipt unless Dumbledore asked for it specifically. Once all that was done, Harry locked the trunk up once again. He was again glad that he had let Hedwig out of her cage and had asked her to fly on ahead wherever it was that Dumbledore wanted to take him. Hearing noises behind him, he turned to see Dudley coming down the stairs and into the living room rather morosely. Harry didn't comment anything but turned to face the Headmaster again, awaiting his instruction. At the moment he was calling the shots, but this time round, Harry was sure that he was going to dissect almost all of the Headmaster's instructions from this point onwards to see if it was the best thing to do.
Dumbledore noticed all the eyes were now focused on him and that all assembled had all their things ready. Satisfied with the progress, he nodded to himself and drew out his wand from its holster where he had put it back after questioning Harry and which he had subtly removed during the time of Vernon's rant.
The Dursleys visibly paled and stepped back in fright as they saw the old bearded wizard draw out his wand. Dudley in particular began to shake in fear, memories of the pig and the ton-tongue toffee coming to the fore. For his part, Vernon though still every bit as apprehensive as the rest of his family members, pulled the other two behind him and put himself in between them and the Headmaster.
Harry too had drawn out his wand, although it was a lot more subtly than the flourish that Dumbledore had employed. He wasn't sure what the old man was up to and it irked him that the Headmaster had drawn the wand with such pomp when he should have been careful about the effects such showmanship would have on the Dursleys. All Harry could attribute for his actions was that Dumbledore had drawn his wand while thinking of the next set of steps and so was not consciously paying attention to the flourish which accompanied the whole exercise.
Harry was right. Although Dumbledore's eyes seemed to be focused on something, his mind was racing at more than a mile a minute, thinking, analyzing and discarding the next couple of steps. He needed to find the safest course of action so that the Dursleys could be protected.
And since initially the main purpose of his visit had been to get Harry to the Weasleys with a stop on the way, and which now seemed to have become the second task, he had to find out a safe house for the Dursleys.
Which was in itself a most difficult thing, but which was further compounded by the fact that he had very little time to work with.
Deciding on a course of action, Dumbledore refocused his eyes on all those present to see a very strange sight - the Dursleys lined up one behind the other with Mr. Dursley at the head and Master Dursley at the rear and Harry standing to the side with his wand in arm pointed subtly in the direction of the Headmaster.
While Dumbledore wasn't shocked by the reaction of the Dursleys, Mr. Potter's stance, position and body language told him what he had been suspecting for a while now, right from the neutral reactions he had received from his this evening.
Harry Potter did not fully trust Albus Dumbledore.
Mentally sighing as he knew that this was bound to happen sooner or later, Albus decided to address all four of them in an attempt to soothe their nerves.
"My apologies to all of you, if my drawing out the stick put you on edge. That was not my intention at all. I was thinking about the different possibilities to ensure your safety and as I was lost deep in thought of that, I believe I ended up pulling out my wand in a manner that would have seemed hostile. You can be rest assured that I have no intention of harming you. Now I see that we are all packed and ready to leave, so let us do that next."
"Mr. Dursley", he focused entirely on Vernon as he spoke to him, "while I would prefer to travel entirely by magical means as it is faster, it will raise a lot of questions and it is always a risk when non-magical people such as yourself are involved. I think it is best that you drive for at least a short distance and we can figure out the rest as we go along. Travelling by magic would be traceable to someone who is so inclined and believe me, Voldemort can be very inclined to do certain things. No, I have no intention of using magic here and won't be using magic till we walk a fair distance away from the house and possibly into the neighbourhood."
Taking a breath, Dumbledore continued talking over what Vernon wanted to say. "Yes, it is a tough ask I know. And while I am probably going to spend precious time convincing you to see point of view, I think it is worth it. Before that though, Harry, I want you to stay prepared. Always have the wand in your wand arm and grip it firmly. Even when you are moving stuff, I would suggest you not loosen your grip on the wand. I maybe paranoid, but after being Alastor's friend for so many years the phrase, 'Constance Vigilance' does get to you doesn't it?", he asked with a slight chuckle, which Harry could not help but return.
Getting back to a serious mode, Dumbledore continued to speak , "Harry, as you may have noticed, I am not in the best of form to be able to wage any duels if we are caught in one. I can hold up, that isn't a problem, but I will not be able to help you and your family at the same time. So please, keep yourself on high alert at all times, and be focused on the task at hand. Here", he said digging into his robes and pulling out a small vial of liquid which Harry (despite being considered to be a dunce in Potions) recognised at once to be a Pepper Up Potion.
Harry raised an eyebrow even as he took the vial from the Headmaster. It seemed the old man had really come prepared for a wide range of scenarios and possibilities contrary to what he had claimed. Or that having to work on a bunch of different things one after the other with nary a break had taught him to keep supply of these potions readily available and accessible.
Downing the contents in one go, he winced as he remembered why this potion wasn't his favourite and how it had gotten its name. His face turned comically red and steam started to pour out of his ears, like the ones he had seen occasionally in cartoons.
All the while the Dursleys had taken a further step back and were looking at him with a mixture of amusement and fright. They weren't sure what exactly the potion would do and so were naturally worried that they would have to fend off a monster.
After a few seconds, though it felt a lot longer to Harry, his features returned to normal and the sweat on his face magically disappeared. In the meanwhile Dumbledore had asked the Dursleys to leave a letter with their neighbours that they had decided to go off on a holiday. Dumbledore instructed them specifically to not put in any dates nor places, even though the Dursleys knew that a note without much details in it would only serve as gossip fodder. But the Headmaster's idea had, at the very least, the advantage of letting their equally nosey neighbours know that they were on a vacation and were not away because they had committed some crime and so had to vanish without a trace.
Well, not entirely anyways.
Once that was done, Dumbledore opened the front door softly, making as little noise as possible to ensure that there were no surprise visitors loitering outside. Well, technically there was no point in him doing that as the noise level would increase the moment Vernon gunned the car's engine.
Harry and Dudley worked quietly and quickly to load all the luggage into the boot of the car. It was going to be a tight fit, even though the number of bags were limited. Vernon, whose shock over the events of the evening was wearing off and whose anger and irritation seemed to be building up again, focused on his usual pre-drive ritual - ensuring that the car was clean (he wasn't the only one in the family who was obsessive about cleanliness) on the outside, in the inside and that the windscreens (front and rear) were as clean as they could be.
He kicked the tyres of the car as well, to determine if there was enough pressure in them to ensure that he and his family had a good quality ride. It all seemed to be in order.
The boys were now unloading some of the bags, as they sought a means to fit in Harry's muggle universe unwieldy trunk into the boot. Veron very nearly shouted out, but caught himself just in time. They were all heading in the same direction for a decent distance as far as he could tell. And while he still disliked, no, abhorred magic, from the way the conversations had taken place, it was evident that the only chance of survival for his family was in the hands of the old bearded man and the freak, he meant nephew, not freak, nephew.
He knew he would probably never like Harry, and he also guessed the feeling was mutual, but at the moment the least he could do was be civil to him. Again, because it seemed likely that the boy would be putting himself in danger trying to protect the three Dursleys.
He turned around to call for Petunia and had very nearly called for her before he stopped himself. It was clear to him what was happening but he did not know what to do. He began walking slowly towards her though.
Petunia was on her knees, on the garden, looking at what had been their home from the time she had married Vernon with tears streaming down her face. She had not doubted what Dumbledore had told her. Even though she disliked Lily quite intensely and stayed away from her as much as possible, it was impossible for her to not chance upon some conversations of Lily's, a fair few of which focused on Voldemort.
And then Lily had been killed by the very same Dark wizard.
While Petunia didn't like her sister much, she was pragmatic enough to realize that Lily was the smarter one of the two sisters, while also the one with a fiercer temper. And if Lily, who had been thrown into a whole new world at the age of eleven and had still managed to top it could not find a way to get past this monster, then Petunia certainly had a less than zero chance.
And to improve her odds, she had to leave what had been her home for the foreseeable future.
What mattered to her was that her husband and more importantly, her son had to be kept safe.
If the situation needed her to sacrifice herself, she would do it without a second thought.
The only thing that she dreaded was Lily's temper on the other side.
Standing up while brushing off the tear tracks, she turned around to see Vernon walking towards her. From the expression on his face, she knew that he wasn't sure what to say to her or how to help her.
It didn't matter.
At the moment, the three of them were safe and they needed to get a move on to continue to remain safe.
She quickened her steps and walked towards Vernon, tapping him slightly on the shoulder and indicating for him to turn around to the direction of the car. He too seemed to have been lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't heard or seen Petunia approach him till she tapped him on the shoulder.
He too turned and together the married couple moved towards the car. They were pleased to see that all the unloading and loading had been done and the boys were standing next to the car looking alert.
Dumbledore, who too was standing next to the car, seemed to look extremely old and tired. But when he realized that the everyone was now done with their tasks and were looking to him for the next course of action, he moved with the speed of a man about half the age of Vernon.
"Right. We are all good to go. Mrs. and Mr. Dursley, if I could request you to deliver the letters to your two closest neighbours, 6 and 2 Privet Drive I believe, yes? Good. If you could drop the mail on their door, we can then be on our way."
"Actually, let me and Mr. Potter do it. Again, this way is a little safer. The three of you get into the car but don't start it yet. We want to make as little noise as possible."
The Dursleys quickly got into their car. The seating arrangement was different from what Harry had traditionally seen the family adapt, but there was no doubt that this would be the most efficient way.
Dudley had joined his dad in the front row, while Aunt Petunia had placed herself behind her husband in the car.
"Right, now let us quickly do this and then we can be off. Every additional minute we spend, just increases our chances of being attacked"
Moving in opposite directions, the Headmaster and the Boy Who Lived, dropped the messages through the flap on the door of the two houses and got back at about the same time.
Dumbledore followed Harry into the car, grimacing at its rather tight confines (made slightly more difficult for him by the face that Dudley had pushed back his seat a fair bit to accommodate his bulk), but still managing to sit in a very dignified manner. Harry had the temptation to ask Dumbledore if he had ever taken a ride in a car before or if this was the first time, but figured that it would be a better question for later.
Vernon started the car and within moments, they had pulled out of Privet Drive and then out of Magnolia Crescent. Not having been told explicitly where to to go, Vernon figured that it would be wise to stick to the coastal regions at first and then if necessary double back and take the Chunnel.
A couple of hours later, still early in the morning that it was, and when the night was at its darkest, a couple of distinct pops could be heard and along with that a couple of figures clothed in robes of darkest black with silver masks on their faces appeared.
To those who didn't know who they actually were, the masks would seem similar to ones that they would see in the movie Scream, a few months down the line.
But to the ones who knew who they were, there were only two options available to them - fight or flight.
The Death Eaters had arrived at Privet Drive.
It would not be an isolated incident.
Death Eaters had spread over to different parts of the country at the same time as well.
One of which was at Crawley where resided the resident bookworm of Hogwarts and the possibly the best witch in her batch – Hermione Granger