Chapter 2 - The ties that bind

Those two words shut a door

Between me and the blessed rain

That was never shut before

And will not open again

(Edward Thomas, Go Now)

The little house of number four, Privet Drive, was ordinary in every way. It was the last place one would expect strange or mysterious things to take place, its owners had made sure of that. So when prospective buyers had come to view the place, there was no nonsense to be found. Not in the attic, or the spare bedroom that housed a giant empty birdcage, for some reason (decorative, the owner s wife assured anyone who d notice), and least of all in the cupboard under the stairs that was stuffed with the most impressively sized leather suitcase ( A family heirloom, from travels to America, Petunia Dursley would say).

The boy who sat in the spare bedroom, however, was anything but ordinary. He d be seventeen soon. He had never been as tall, or as grim faced, and his black hair had never been as unruly. At first glance, he was just an angry teenager whose most impressive features were his green eyes and a scar on his forehead, in the shape of a lightning bolt.

His name was Harry Potter and he had more scars, of course, but he wasn t in the habit of showcasing them. Not the little one on his arm from that one time he d annoyed his snowy owl Hedwig too much. Or the long, jagged ones on his arms and legs, barely visible, roughly healed, from playing the wizarding sport of Quidditch. Least of all he liked a long, continuous scar on his hand that formed the words I must not tell lies, a remnant of his second least favourite teacher of all time, Dolores Umbridge and her twisted ideas of detention. The scars his absolutely least favorite teacher, Severus Snape, had left behind were nothing you could see, exactly, unless you happened to sneak into the boy s room at the exact moment when it hit him, again, how alone he was, how unprotected.

Nevertheless, it was the forehead-scar that people tended to recognise. He didn t particularly like being pointed and stared at, but after six years of people making a fuss, he was used to it. He d hated it less before he knew what burden the scar would cause. People had used to see it as a sign of triumph over a fallen enemy now they knew better.

Harry jerked up in a sudden fit of panic, as he heard a soft clink in front of his bedroom. He rushed to the door, his wand in his hand. Opened it. No one was there. When he looked down to locate the source of the smell, he could see a cup of steaming fresh tea in front of his right foot. Peppermint, this time. It was the same cup every morning, as aunt Petunia had packed up most of the china already. Harry picked it up and expected today s biscuit Lemon Sprinkles with curiosity. Aunt Petunia was not speaking to him these days, but it seemed she d found a clever way to keep him out of their way during breakfast time. He d been assigned a bathroom schedule and a stay-out-of-my-packing-process set of instructions when he d arrived at their doorstep a few weeks ago, packed into a car with a giant trunk closet, an owl cage and an assortment of former and present aurors (members of the Order of the Phoenix) in more or less convincing muggle outfits. Ever since, he d spent hours in the garden, pretending to read muggle newspapers alongside an even less convincing Dudley, who d refused to make much eye contact, while the buyers toured Petunia and Vernon Dursley s sparkling clean home. Vernon had hated the prospect of selling his house, rejected the idea that it would be dangerous to stay, until he d looked up the real estate prices in his area. Now he couldn t wait to move, although he hated not being able to tell the curious neighbours where he was going.

Harry sipped his tea, wand still close by his side, when he heard the first moving cars arrive. There was a lot of noise downstairs, voices, shuffling footsteps, furniture being moved. He didn t react, just kept staring at his packed suitcase in the empty room he d been living in with nothing but a mattress, as his furniture had been sold two weeks ago. When the door knocked, about an hour later, he almost dropped his tea. He hadn t expected a good bye.

Yes, come in.

He hoped it was not a confused mover. Aunt Petunia would not be pleased one bit. It was not. When the door opened, his confused eyes met those of a grinning Ron Weasley, his best friend in the world, who was wearing a mover s uniform overalls with a truck-shaped logo for some reason. Behind him, he spotted a young witch with bright blue hair, who waved at him and said, Wotcher, Harry!

Harry jumped up in surprise. What are you doing in here I thought tomorrow?

Ron stepped up and hugged Harry briefly. It was a strange, gentle gesture. They didn t hug, usually. Maybe after a Quidditch game but this? Ron must have noticed it, too, as he blushed and stepped back. Sorry, I we

We don t hug, Harry said.

Yeah, Ron answered, staring at his shoes.

Boys, a girl with bushy brown hair exclaimed in an exasperated voice, stepping forward to hug Harry herself. He s been worried sick about you well, we all have! But it was Ron she looked at, with a tenderness on her face that made Harry feel like he stepped into a private moment. And far from being embarrassed this time, Ron gazed back at her with a facial expression that reminded Harry of the time his best friend had accidentally eaten chocolates containing a love potion.

We had to wait downstairs for the Polyjuice to wear of. Got here in disguise, same way we re leaving. Just the trunk, then? interrupted the blue-haired witch, who seemed to sense that everyone but Ron and Hermione was a third wheel at this moment. Harry nodded.

When they stepped downstairs, he was happily greeted by Arthur and Bill Weasley, Elphias Doge, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin and Harry could barely supress laughter Minerva McGonagall, who looked stranger than anyone he d every seen in a workman s uniform.

Ready? Moody growled at him. Wand in your overalls, Potter!

I m not wearing overalls, Harry informed him, still trying not to look at his old Transfiguration teacher.

Well, change then, but make it quick, growled Moody. You don t need to know much, he informed Harry through the closed living room door, as Harry quickly took of his jeans and slipped into the uniform. We arrived with Polyjuice potion and we ll leave the same way. Real muggle moving company. They all called in sick today and Arthur s done a little something with the cars. Your aunt and uncle will be following the only real moving van with their own car. Ours have empty boxes. We have extra protectors stepping in, if some or all of us should be killed on the way.

Alastor, really, McGonagall interrupted him curtly. I don t think this is the attitude that will inspire confidence.

Yes, Mad-Eye, Tonks agreed, but her voice sounded harder and less cheerful than it once had been, we ve done this before. Just give him the necessary info and let s get out of here!

Just staying realistic, Moody grunted. Anyways, Potter, you ll be with me, Kingsley, Tonks and Minerva. Your friends will be in the other car, just in case someone knows who s who they ll assume you d be with your little buddies and bam distraction, he ended, satisfied.

Could you not speak about the kids this way, Arthur Weasley interjected, just when Harry opened the door and was handed a glass of strange, familiar-smelling dark blue liquid. Drink this, Harry. As you might remember, Alastor, he took his own drink and winced quickly, Molly and I are not thrilled that they are involved, they re too young and-

We re adults, Ron interrupted his father, holding an empty little bottle of his own. Hermione and I chose to do this, for Harry. We re with him all the way and that is our decision!

Hermione nodded strongly, gripping Ron s hand firmer. It looked strange to see his best friends like this, holding hands, as a couple would, Harry thought. A minute later it looked even stranger, as they both transformed into broad-shouldered, beard wearing movers with an assortment of faded tattoos.

Drink, Arthur Weasley s voice repeated behind the face of another mover with a very broad nose and bushy dark brows.

Harry gulped down the Polyjuice Potion. It tasted like chewing tobacco, salty pretzels and old coffee at the same time. He choked. Around him, everyone had already changed. Their voices now sounded different, aswell.

Right then, one of the movers, who, based on his grim enthusiasm must be Mad-Eye Moody, said, as Harry s potion set into effect. Your stuff s in the car, let s get going.

They stepped into the evening sun. The heat was still blistering, even at this time. A bit further away, Harry could see his aunt, wistfully looking at her home, whispering something to uncle Vernon, who nodded. Dudley looked less sad, but definitely anxious and peeked at every mover, probably trying to guess where Harry was.

Right, said the one was Arthur Weasley, Harry guessed, as they reached the street. He handed Harry a clipboard, while the others climbed into the moving trucks. We have everything ready and we ll send it to your new Canadian address in shipping, he said loudly and then added quietly, act as if you re reading from the clipboard while saying your good byes, Harry.

The Dursley s eyes opened wide in surprise. Vernon Dursley took a step back in discomfort. This was that unnatural magic nonsense he d always hated and he wanted nothing to do with it! He seemed if that was even possible even less comfortable with the two movers he d seen holding hands as they left the house.

No need, Harry could hear the strange voice that was not his own answer, they don t care what happens to me, they thin waste of space, actually.

I don t think you re a waste of space, Dudley piped up, to everyone s surprise. I you saved my life from the the Mentors!

Not your life, exactly. It s your soul the Dementors would have attacked, Harry corrected his cousin, while aunt Petunia broke out in sobs, attempting to hug her son.

Dudley ignored this, stepping up to Harry and holding out a hand. I don t understand that, he said, but I know that you saved me and I hope you you ll be safe wherever you re going. I thank you, he ended lamely.

Harry grabbed his hand, awe-struck at the longest sentences he d ever heard his cousin speak, while his aunt patted her eyes dry and uncle Vernon entered his car, growling at the stranger he knew must by Harry.

When he d let go, he noticed his aunt had stepped up. Be safe, she said curtly, and shoved a brown paper bag into his hands. He smelled lemon and sugar. Dudley baked these for you.

Harry turned around on Dudley, who was already sitting in the car, looking awkwardly at his enormous fists. Did Dudley the tea I thought you

What tea? Petunia answered with a hoarse voice. I we must be going. You you ll let us know when it s safe to return, will you?

Harry nodded and watched, as she, too, climbed into the car, still crying whether it was over the house or him he had no clue.

Come on, he heard a voice and quickly climbed up into one of the moving vans. The door slammed shut behind him. Darkness. He was dragged to a seat and handed a seat belt, then the car started driving, slow at first, then with an increasing speed that seemed unusual for any car in Privet Drive. Harry wanted to alert the others of this suspicious fact, but remained silent. They d know what they were doing. After a while, with another roar of the car, a strange weightless sensation fell over it that Harry knew meant they were flying now. He waited in silence for what felt like hours. When the car was rumbling over a cobbly driveway again, he knew they had arrived at their destination.

He climbed out, greeted by the familiar scents of flowers, dried grass and freshly cooked food that could only mean one thing they had arrived at the Burrow. For a moment he was confused where both the moving vans and the Weasley s house had disappeared, as he was staring at a wide open field that Ron and Hermione back to their own looks now carried his trunk into. Then he realized that the cars must have turned invisible on their way, to avoid detection. They had been flying, after all.

Arthur Weasley stepped next to him. Fidelius Charm, he muttered, read this. He held out a tiny piece of parchment, which, in his wife s handwriting, stated simply The Weasley property is located at the very end of the narrowest path after Merry Lane, outside Ottery St Catchpole.

This was unusual. Harry, who was familiar with the charm assumed it must be phrased that way, as the Burrow might not be on an actual street or belong to any village, so his instructions had to be put in these terms. He hastily followed Arthur Weasley, and in despite the darkness he could see the gardens appear, where wilderness had been. The chicken and flower beds appeared in front of his eyes, as if they d always been there. And there it was crooked, shabby, windows lit with candles in the darkness the secondbest house in the world!

Mrs Weasley stood in the door frame, greeting everyone with an enthusiastic hug Harry noticed his lasted the longest. Oh, come in, come in! Did everything go right? Harry, dear, you must be starving, we prepared dinner. Oh, I m so glad everyone is safe!

Is there a place we can change, perhaps? Professor McGonagall interrupted her and Ginny Weasley, who had stormed down the stairs to greet everyone, barely suppressed a giggle, before she rushed towards Harry and pulled him into a hug he d been dreaming of for weeks warm, soft, her heart beating next to his and her hair smelling like flowers.

Welcome back, Harry, she whispered.

Yes, yes, the bathroom is upstairs, Mrs Weasley said, leading the way. Can you kids set the tables? she yelled over her shoulder.

I m not a kid, Ron muttered grumpily, while Hermione laughed softly at his indignation. He used his wand to float the giant soup pot outside and Hermione did the same with several bread baskets. Outside, Harry could see Bill and his fianc , Fleur Delacour, hang lanterns over a gigantic table.

Is this safe, he asked Ginny, who handed him a staple of plates, unsure of what else to talk about. So much remained unsaid between them these days. To be outside, I mean. Sure Mad-Eye will let us ?

There s no difference, Ginny explained. Professor Flitwick was here himself to put the entire house and garden under a Fidelius. Mum is secret keeper, because dad works outside the house for the Order. She stays here to communicate with everyone, relay messages and things like that. She s still worried mad, now that Hogwarts is closed and won t me leave her side. It sounded somewhat bitter. Harry remembered all too well that Ginny had wanted to join him, Ron and Hermione on the hunt for the cursed objects they needed to find. It must be hard for her, being contained to this place. Ginny might love her house and parents, but she also loved playing Quidditch, going on adventures, and none of that seemed like real opportunities at the moment.

So it s definitely closed, then?

Yes. The board of governors decided a week ago. McGonagall was going to fight it, but then they got some news they won t tell me about so now the castle is hidden for a while. Won t last though.

Why not, Harry inquired. He d never thought much about the scope of a Fidelius. Could only smaller houses be hidden? Was it a question of how many people or how much magic was contained in one place?

It conflicts with the other protection spells, Hermione, who had come back for cutlery, explained. Next to her, holding her hand again and looking as this was the best thing any person could be doing, was Ron. It s all laid out in Hogwarts, a History. Most spells were added in the early sixteenth century, but security was tightened around 1920, when the group around Grindelwald came to power. Since Dumbledore has become headmaster, they ve added so many spells that the author of the book couldn t even describe them. I don t think they re known spells. He must have invented them. I asked him once at Grimmauld Place and he said, he didn t know what I was talking about, but, you know

With the usual eye twinkling Dumbledore nonsense, Ron added. He seemed pleased you asked, though. That man loved his secrets.

Yes, Hermione answered quietly, avoiding Harry s eyes. Anyways, as far as we know, Slughorn is secret keeper, Hagrid is still staying there and so are the houseelves. We re told they re too scared to leave. And Kreacher can t, because you told him to stay there.

Harry nodded uncomfortably. He d never quite grown comfortable with owning an enslaved creature, let alone one as unpleasant as Kreacher, but at least he could comfort himself with the safety that was provided. He could find out how to free Kreacher without causing damage later, when it all was over. If I still can, he thought. What would happen to all his property, including Kreacher, he wondered, if he didn t survive this?

A little help would be nice, Bill yelled from outside. We re still waiting for that cutlery!

They grabbed everything they needed and hurried outside, where the Order had assembled, now wearing a variety of wizard s robes and, in some cases, T-Shirts and jeans. The table was loaded with a stew pot, bread baskets, pies and fruit bowls. As soon as they were handed their forks and spoons, everyone started eating hungrily. There was little conversation, if any, and Harry was glad of it. He wondered, whether Ron and Hermione were still holding hands under the table and, for a short moment, was disappointed he wasn t sitting next to Ginny. He d very much like to do the same.

When they d started with desert, Fred and George arrived from work, greeting Harry enthusiastically. They had sat down, when someone cleared their throat.

Harry looked up. Professor McGonagall had gotten to her feet, along with Remus Lupin. We thank you all, for inviting us into your home, Molly, for this meeting. We ve talked quite a while about the new applicants to the Order of the Phoenix. She nodded towards Fred, George, and Harry was quite surprised Ron and Hermione.

Some members were less pleased, Lupin added, and Molly Weasley frowned at him, But as me and my friends were permitted to join when we weren t much older, we have decided to let everyone of you everyone who is of age, he interjected, as Ginny s head perked up, join under the condition that you acknowledge that this is a group effort. No solo missions, Harry was sure he felt some eyes flit towards him, and no secrets that could get you into danger. Noone wants to treat you like children, but as we have more experience, you are required to accept our protection and guidance, if you want to join. He was now clearly looking at Harry.

No, Harry said quickly, surprising everyone but Ron, Hermione and McGonagall. I have to do this alone, Dumbledore said I should-

He never said you couldn t trust the Order, Hermione interjected. We could really get this done in a much safer way, if they helped. And quicker, she added hastily, as Harry was about to protest again. They ve promised us training that we need, and all the help, you just need to talk about everything.

Harry said nothing. To be honest, he felt a little betrayed by Hermione. He looked at Ron, who met his gaze. I m with you, mate. Whatever you decide, he said firmly, avoiding both his mother s eyes and Hermione s now. But we ve been talking, he nodded towards Hermione, and we don t know where to start, or how, or how to, he started whispering unnecessarily, do the destroying, you know. We figured the Order could help us track them down and, as Hermione said, it s definitely quicker. Think of all the lifes that are in danger while we wait. What if it takes us years? What, if he You know who - becomes as powerful as he was last time? We don t even know what it was like. But there s a reason no one dares speak his name. I don t and that s just because I ve heard the fear in my parents eyes. We can t let it get that bad again we know you re the one who has to do it in the end, but it couldn t hurt to have some help, now that you ve lost Dumbledore.

He s not the only one who s lost him, a familiar voice spoke up at the end of the table, as Harry wanted to protest.

Harry looked up and his heart stopped. An old man had walked up to the table in the darkness a familiar old man in a dusty, shabby looking travelling cloak that faintly smelled of goats. He had shock white hair, a long beard, very blue eyes and a seemed strange and familiar at the same time. His nose, Harry noticed, was not crooked. He wondered why this would stand out to him.

Then, as the man stepped closer into the light of the fireplace, recognition set in he had met the man before. It was the barkeeper from the Hog s Head, a strange little pub in Hogsmeade. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they had met there to start a rebellion against the insufferable Dolores Umbridge. Harry couldn t help but wonder what he was doing here. Was Madam Rosmerta coming, too? Had Hogsmeade joined the rebellion?

But before he could ask a question, someone else spoke.

Aberforth, said Professor McGonagall impatiently, you re late!