With a heavy gasp, Harry woke up in the middle of the night. Darkness flooded his room, and the only sound was that of his agitated breathing, like every early morning, during these five weeks, he wakes up with his scar hurt as if a red-hot iron was pressed on his forehead.
Somewhere in his room, he heard Hedwig's ululation and fluttering of wings. Harry slowly regained his composure and looked down at the clock on his nights table. The clock struck 3:30 in the morning. with the withered dream, Harry turned on the light in his room.
"I'm fine, Hedwig," Harry said with a tired smile.
The pain in his forehead slowly dissipated. Harry lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Every night was the same situation. Since the battle in the cemetery, Harry suffered repercussions in his body and mind. For weeks, he had been having strange dreams—dreams of places he had never been or dreams where he had sex with women.
But the worst were the dreams where he tortured and killed people he had never met in his life. Harry watched every night vividly as he murdered a mother, a son, and a daughter without any mercy with the vilest and darkest magic that could exist. Every night he committed horrendous acts; he roamed the world like a snake to Albania, Germany, and Britain, sometimes he would fly through the skies. Other times, he dreamed he was at Hogwarts, but fifty years ago, in his dreams, he was with a group of Slytherin's students sitting at a table. And Harry was always the leader of that dream.
There were times when Harry could no longer identify whether it was a dream of his or a memory of Voldemort. The most horrible thing was that he was always angry—angry with life, with the Dursleys for giving him a miserable life, and with his friends for not answering any of his letters. He had sent a dozen letters to Hermione and Ron, but none of them had answered, leaving Harry alone, alone with the Dursley and his conflicted mind.
He also tried to communicate with his godfather, Sirius, expressing his feelings, but his godfather, like his friends, didn't answer his letters. The more time passed, more darker dreams came to him, and there was nothing he could do to avoid those horrible memories. Every moment Harry closed his eyes, a new memory of Voldemort's life played in his head.
"Avada Kedavra," murmured Harry with a blank stare; He knew that curse from head to toe. With his finger, he made the movement to cast the killing curse. In his dreams, he used that curse hundreds of times, to the point where Harry could conjure the curse without any problems, just like the Cruciatus Curse.
But it wasn't all bad. Harry continuously, he dreamed of a beautiful witch with crazy eyes and wavy hair giving him a blowjob. He didn't know that woman at all, but her eyes, the feeling of her warm and wet mouth on his cock, and her tight pussy squeezing his cock made him hard. Harry experienced firsthand the times Voldemort had sex with women; he recalled when he watched Riddle's lost his virginity on his seventh year with a witch named Matilda Avery, a pure-blooded woman with brown hair and cute, cheerful tits.
But not all the times he dreamed having sex were pleasurable; there were times when he saw Tom abuse some women to the point of murdering them. Harry got out of bed and walked to his bathroom. Since what happened in the cemetery, Harry no longer has to wear glasses.
He turned on the light in the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. The heavy, dark circles under his eyes were marked by a lack of sleep. Harry frowned at the sight of himself. He hated himself for having allowed Cedric to die. "There is no right or wrong. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it." Harry muttered, looking in the mirror.
That phrase had been repeating in her head for days, every time she had conflicts with the Dursleys or when the intrusive thoughts told him to kill Vernon or his damned son.
There had been times when Harry was hard when he saw his Aunt Petunia when she wore her short strapless dresses or when she did yoga in her tight leggings that stuck in her pussy and showed a sexy cameltoe. Harry had fought the urge to corner her, lift her skirt, and shove his cock up her pussy, like he'd seen Voldemort do in his dreams.
He was so angry all the time that when he looked at Vernon, Harry fought the urge to pull out his wand and put Vernon under the Cruciatus curse until he saw him lying there in pain and losing his mind from the pain inflicted by Harry. Then he left the house, burned it down using the Fiendfyre, and fled on his broom.
recalling in the loneliness of his bathroom, since one week ago, something has changed in his relationship with the Dursleys. Harry didn't remember what he had done, but now the Dursleys feared him, Dudley had stopped insulting him and treating Harry like a garbage, and Vernon rarely bother him.
And his aunt Petunia, there were times when Harry regained consciousness and was on his Aunt Petunia, harassing her, pressing his cock against her ass and massaging her tits, she was washing dishes, shaking, and crying. His trust in them had also changed, and since then, Harry has taken advantage of the Dursleys' fear of him.
Harry washed his face with cold water to clear his mind. Looking up at the mirror, Harry had grown up at the beginning of the year; he had always been a thin and small boy, measuring only 5' 7" at fifteen years old, but in just a couple of months, he was now 5' 11".
"Could it be because of the connection between me and Voldemort?" Harry asked himself, looking in the mirror. " How could I know? Everyone has abandoned me." Harry growled with immeasurable anger.
No one had sent him a letter or a gift for his birthday; he had been abandoned. Harry felt like he was in his fourth year, being treated like a pariah by everyone.
He came out of the bathroom and looked at his owl. Hedwig howled sadly at the sight of him, furious. "It's not your fault, girl," Harry muttered, walking toward her.
He opened Hedwig's cage and took it out of its confinement. Hedwig prostrated herself on his arm, and he placed it in the writing. "I've been abandoned," Harry confessed, stroking Hedwig's white plumage.
The owl let out a sad ululation and pecked his finger gently. "It's just you who I've got left now," Harry confessed, anger in his being.
Harry returned Hedwig to her cage and proceeded to try to sleep; although he knew it would be difficult, he went into her bed and turned off the lights, shrouding him in darkness. Without much hope, Harry closed his eyes in one last attempt to sleep and finally had a happy sleep.
"Oh, Tom!" a woman's voice echoed in his head.
Harry opened his eyes and looked at a beautiful woman below him. She was cute with red hair and freckles. "She looks like Ginny," Harry thought, pumping the girl's pussy.
Harry leaned over and kissed her possessively, biting her full lips and inserting his tongue into the girl's mouth. She moaned his name in the kiss and wrapped her legs around her waist.
The heat and humidity of her pussy made Harry speed up his dresses. "Who's your master?" growled Harry, pulling his cock out of her pussy and rubbing it against her wet entrance.
The girl let out a moan of despair and threw her head back. "You, Tom, only you are my master; you own me and my body!" The girl exclaimed, rubbing her slippery and throbbing pussy against his cock in an attempt to penetrate her. "But please fuck me, fuck me hard, and put an end to this torture!"
Harry smiled wickedly, feeling the power of having a woman under his absolute control. With a thrust, Harry penetrated her and began to fuck her again, pumping in and out of her. Until the sound of an annoying voice woke him from the memory.
"Mom!" his cousin Dudley's annoyed voice woke him up.
Harry opened his eyes furiously and watched the sun slid through the curtains of his room. His cock was hard and erect from the dream he had just had. "Bloody bastard," he growled at being awakened by such an incredible memory.
There were few times that he had pleasant memories of Voldemort, and now that he had one, his fucking cousin woke him up.
Harry got out of bed, furious as usual, and went straight to take a bath and brush his teeth. As he came out of the bathroom, Harry looked for some clothes to wear; all his clothes were inherited by Dudley, so now that he had grown up, Harry had nothing left.
"Shit," Harry growled, seeing his old, torn, and faded clothes and his shoes not getting better.
Knowing that his clothes would pass to Harry's hands, Dudley purposely ripped them, and the soles of his shoes he scuffed against the floor. "I'm not wearing that shit," Harry growled, closing the closet.
He just wore his gray pants and a light blue shirt. Harry freed Hedwig to fly, grabbed his wand, and went down to breakfast with his horrendous family. Leaving his room, he found with his aunt Petunia in the hallway.
She wore a low-cut floral strappy dress that showed off her long sexy legs. "Good morning," Harry greeted her, with a flirtatious smile, the same smile that Harry saw Tom show when he talked to women.
"P-Potter!" his aunt Petunia stuttered, when she saw him.
She still couldn't get used to seeing him so changed. "Aunt Petunia, I need you to do me a favor," Harry said, walking toward her slowly, as does a predator hunting its prey.
"What do you want?" she asked nervously.
"I need you to take me to the mall to buy clothes," Harry said, a few inches away from her, pushing Petunia further and further into a corner.
Petunia kept looking at him nervously, waiting for any attack from Harry. Every time he interacted with his Aunt Petunia, a flame inside Harry lit up, an anger filled with lust at the sight of that woman who had made his life impossible for years.
As the connection between Harry and Voldemort increased, his self-confidence and anger also increased, to the point where Harry didn't know if it was Voldemort controlling his body or if he was just a puppet.
Petunia was red with embarrassment as she watched her nephew hover over her. His aunt could feel Harry's breathing, and he could feel her heavy breathing in his face. "Why do you want to go to the mall?" she asked, breathing heavily.
He smiled and fought the instinct to fuck her right there. "I want to buy clothes; I'm afraid Dudley's clothes aren't my size anymore," Harry explained, getting a little closer.
Petunia squealed as she felt Harry's body on top of hers. "Get away from me if your uncle or cousin catch us!" Petunia begged quietly, with fear in her voice.
Harry laughed, and his aunt shivered as she heard his laughter. "What will happen if they find us?" asked Harry, his rock-hard cock pressed against Petunia's belly, who squealed and quickly covered her mouth with her hands so her son and husband wouldn't hear her.
"Petunia!" shouted Vernon from the kitchen.
"Yes, Vernon?" asked Petunia, blushing loudly.
"The food, we're hungry," Harry's uncle shouted.
Harry smiled wickedly with his cock pressed against his aunt. "I'll be right away, honey," Petunia said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Let me go, please."
"Tch, tch, tch," Harry clicked with his tongue. He leaned his face close to his aunt, his green eyes meeting Petunia's similarly green eyes. "I won't let you go unless you tell me you will take me to the mall."
Harry could feel Petunia's breath on his face; the smell of mint and perfume flooded his nose, and his cock continued to press against her. "Okay, I'll take you after your uncle goes to work!" shouted Petunia softly. He nodded. "But please let me go!"
Harry brought his face close to her ear. "You see how easy it was; you just had to say yes from the beginning." he whispered in his aunt's ear.
Filled with lust, Harry licked his aunt's earlobe and traced his tongue down to her long neck. The delicious taste of her skin, made him growl. "Your skin taste so fucking good, Aunt Petunia," Harry growled, pressing his cock harder against her.
Petunia let out a drowned moan. "Harry!" moaned Petunia.
For the first time in her life, she didn't call him a freak. Harry turned away from her and watched complacently, his aunt blushing loudly and trembling with teary eyes. Harry left her and went downstairs to the kitchen. "Where's your aunt, Freak?" asked Vernon.
Harry threw him a murderous stare, and Vernon turned red with fear. "I mean, your aunt, where is she?" asked Vernon, changing his tone of voice. Dudley didn't even look him in the eye and just looked at his plate.
"She's upstairs," was all Harry said.
Two minutes later, Petunia nervously lowered herself. Harry watched her serve breakfast, and once served, they proceeded to eat. Breakfast was quiet as usual, and at the end of breakfast, Vernon said good-bye to his wife, and she followed him to the door, leaving Dudley and Harry alone.
He looked at his cousin, trembling with fear. "So, Dudley, how many children have you beaten this week?" asked Harry quietly.
He knew he had hurt his cousin, but Harry couldn't remember what he had done to Dudley. His cousin was startled to hear that he was talking to him. "I, I, I don't know!" cried Dudley fearfully.
Harry heard the voices in his head and made a grimace of annoyance that his cousin looked at. Dudley began to cry, and Harry looked at him strangely. "Don't hurt me," Dudley pleaded.
"What?" asked Harry, confused.
"Leave me alone," Dudley pleaded, getting up from the table and running out of the house.
Harry was confused by his cousin's reaction; he heard his aunt call her son, but Dudley left without looking back. A few minutes later, Petunia returned, pale as a ghost. "What's wrong with Dudley?" asked Harry.
Petunia looked at him, half angry and half frightened. "Don't you remember?" she asked. Fearful, Harry shook his head. "You gagged him with the wires."
Harry looked at her, confused. "Me?" he asked.
"You were furious one morning because Dudley had woken you up," his aunt said fearfully. "You hissed something in a strange language, and suddenly the lamp wires wrapped around Dudley's neck and you yelled at him to let you sleep and then went to your room," Petunia said, on the verge of tears.
Harry didn't remember any of that, so that was why the Dudley's feared him. "I did it, or was it Voldemort?" Harry asked himself, and suddenly he felt furious that he didn't know what was happening to him. "Take me to the mall," Harry ordered, rising from his chair.
Petunia looked at him in horror and nodded fearfully. They both left the house, and Harry looked at Mrs. Figg in her yard. "Good morning, Mrs. Dursley, Harry," Mrs. Figg greeted with a smile.
Petunia greeted the woman with an awkward smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Figg," Harry greeted her with a wide smile.
They both got into the car, and Harry watched Mrs. Figg watch them throughout. Harry looked at his aunt's legs, and seeing her tanned skin made him growl. Harry placed his hand on his aunt's thigh, and she let out a squeal of surprise. "Harry!" cried Petunia, surprised.
"What's the matter?" he asked, stroking the soft, delicate skin.
"You must stop; I'm driving," Petunia exclaimed.
"So, if you weren't driving, would you let it continue?" he asked, smiling wickedly.
Petunia didn't answer and just continued driving. "Tell me, Aunt Petunia, when was the last time my uncle fucked you?" Harry said, stroking his aunt's pussy with his fingers.
She let out a small scream as she felt Harry's fingers in her cunt. "You... You can't do this... I'm your aunt," Petunia moaned.
Harry felt the wetness on his fingers. "Really?" Harry sneered, looking at her. "So, what kind of aunt allows her husband to beat up her nephew and lock him in a fucking closet?"
She didn't say anything. "I guessed it," Harry growled, continuing to massage his aunt's pussy, his fingers pulling the clothe away and finally touching her pussy. "Are you waxed?" mocked Harry.
Petunia closed her eyes and struggled not to moan. "You're so wet," Harry sneered, tracing circles in her lips.
All the way, Harry caressed her vagina and clittered, teasing her, mimicking the moves Tom made with women in his youth.
Arriving at the mall, Harry and his aunt went into several clothing stores to change Harry's wardrobe. For two hours, she and he went into a dozen Muggle stores, looking for shoes, pants, and shirts.
When they reached the last shop, where he would buy a couple of coats for the winter, Harry and his aunt browsed the aisles of coats. There were few people in the shop that day, as it was Monday. Harry pulled his aunt into a corner and tucked her into a dressing room. Petunia gasped as he forced her inside.
"Fuck, you look really good in that dress of yours," Harry growled, grabbing her waist. All day long, he hadn't stopped staring at her long legs and ass.
"Harry!" she moaned, terrified.
"What?" he asked, kissing her neck, grabbing her thigh, and lifting her leg. "Since I've been making fun of you, you've started wearing more and more provocative clothes," he said.
Petunia didn't say anything and just tried not to moan. "It's not true," she gasped, feeling Harry's mouth on her lips.
"You wear shorter and shorter skirts; you show me your ass; when you do yoga, you do it to provoke me; isn't it?" he asked. Pressing his cock against her pussy, his aunt moaned and pulled her neck up. "You didn't answer my question a while ago; when was the last time my uncle fucked you?".
His right hand began to massage his aunt's left breast; he could feel her hard nipples. "Years ago," she whimpered.
"Mmmh!" growled Harry, feeling the darkness inside him intensify. Something inside him was changing, and having people at his mercy was starting to like it.
He liked that the Dursleys feared him, that his uncle and cousin didn't look him in the eyes, and most of all, he loved that his aunt was vulnerable in front of him. Harry's green eyes flashed, and he grabbed Petunia's face. "You're needy, aren't you?" sneered Harry, his thumb stroking his aunt's full lips. "The poor aunt Petunia, she had to take care of her sister's son against her will; she let her husband hate and beat him for years. What would her sweet sister say about how her older sister treats her nephew like a monster?"
Petunia tried to look away, and Harry held her tightly, his fingers marking her face. "Look at me," Harry ordered, frowning. "Things have changed now; as you have seen, you now belong to me; you will do what I say."
"I," Petunia murmured, afraid.
"I, I, I," he said mockingly, mimicking Petunia's voice. "This body of yours is now mine."
Harry slipped the strap off Petunia's shoulder, releasing his bare breast. Petunia fought the instinct to scream and just looked at him with a blush on her face. "You may look terrified, but I bet your pussy is a mess; all these weeks I've teased you, must be torture for you."
Harry let go of his grip on her face and slid his hand to her bare breast. With his thumb and index finger, they grabbed the pale salmon nipple and began to slowly twist and stretch it, making his aunt moan with pleasure and roll her eyes. "You owe me for all the shit you've put me through; with you, I'll take all the years of abuse by your husband," Harry growled, squeezing the nipple so that Petunia began to moan in pain. Tears began to filter out of Petunia's eyes. "If you don't want me to hurt your husband and son, do as I say, shall we?"
Harry released the pressure from his nipple, and Petunia breathed a sigh of relief. "Will you leave my family alone?" she asked.
Harry smiled at her stupid question. "Oh, dear aunt," Harry murmured, licking the skin of her nipple, the sweet taste making him growl. "You have my word."
"Only one person per dress room," said a woman's voice outside of the dressing room.
Her aunt turned pale instantly and widened her eyes; Harry quickly pulled away from her; and Petunia covered her partial nudity. "I'm sorry, my aunt was helping me choose between this coat or this one," Harry apologized, as if nothing had happened coming out of the locker room.
The store worker was a thin woman in her twenties or thirties, with dark skin and dreadlocks. The woman, seeing that Harry was a student, nodded. "Oh, no problem, but don't let it happen again; it's the local's orders," she warned, looking at Petunia, who was trying to regain her composure.
The worker walked away, leaving them alone again. "We'd better go," he ordered, his brow furrowed.
Harry paid for his last purchases, and they proceeded to leave the mall. As they arrived at the house, Harry felt a sepulchral cold in the world; the sun was gone, and now there were only gray clouds. The voices in his head began to echo. "Fuck!" Harry growled, trying to shut them up.
"It's too cold," Petunia murmured, shivering and turning on the heater.
The car turned to the right, and Harry watched four black shadows fly over the car. "Dementors!" growled Harry, watching the creatures make their way home.
"What?" asked Petunia, unable to look at the creatures.
As they approached, Harry watched as the dementors crowded into the courtyard of the house. "Dudley!" shouted Petunia. Harry watched as the Dementors fed on Dudley and Vernon, who were on the ground.
Petunia stopped the car and got out of it. "Don't get out of the car, you idiot!" Harry growled.
But his aunt didn't hear him; he watched as the dementors surrounded Petunia and began to feed on her. Harry grunted, quickly got out of the car, and pulled out his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" shouted Harry.
The spell didn't come out of his wand. "What's wrong with me?" asked Harry, confused. "Expecto Patronum!" he shouted a second time; like the first time, the spell did not come out of his wand.
Harry watched Petunia fall to the ground. He grunted and gritted his teeth in anger. "Expecto... Patronum!",
A wisp of silver vapor came out of the tip of the magic wand, and the dementor slowed his pace, but the spell hadn't worked well. Harry cast the spell at the dementors attacking Petunia and pushed them away, retreating a little further as the dementor pounced on him. The hatred and whispers in his head clouded his mind.
"Focus," he thought.
A pair of grays, slimy, crusted hands came out from under the dementor's robe and headed toward Harry, a sound of greed piercing in his ears.
"Expecto Patronum!"
His voice sounded loud and clear. Another wisp of silver smoke, stronger than the previous one, came out of the wand. He could no longer do it; he could no longer make the spell work; he did not know why. The silver stag rushed towards the dementors, tormenting Petunia.
The Dementors let out an atrocious scream and flew away from her through the skies. Harry looked at Dudley and Vernon, who were slowly being drained by the dementors. "Let them die." Voldemort's voice echoed in his head. "They've hurt you; let them die."
Harry twisted his head, his scar hurting, and voices were echoed by the hundreds in his head. "To them!" Harry finally shouted after a couple of minutes.
The eyeless faces of the Dementors were barely two inches away from Dudley and Vernon when the silver horns struck them. The dementor was thrown into the air and, like his companion, flew away and was sucked into the darkness. Then the stag galloped to the end of the street and dissolved into a silvery mist.
The moon, the stars, and the street lamps came back to life. A warm breeze swept through the street. In the neighborhood gardens, the trees rustled, and the prosaic murmur of wind heard again. Harry stood still, all his senses tense, trying to take in the abrupt return to normalcy. After a few moments, he realized that his shirt was stuck to his body; he was drenched in sweat. I couldn't believe what had just happened—dementors there, in Little Whinging.
Dudley and his father lay curled up on the ground, as was Petunia, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up, but then heard loud, running footsteps behind him; instinctively raising his wand again, he spun on his heel to face the newcomer.
Mrs. Figg, their batty old neighbor, came panting to get out of her house. Her grey hair had come out of her hairnet and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. Harry scrambled to hide his wand, but... "Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!
"What?" growled Harry, somewhere between confused and annoyed.
"He's left!" Mrs. Figg said, wringing her hands. ""Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr. Tibbies on the case! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!"
"What are you talking about?" he asked, The revelation that his batty old cat-obsessed neighbor knew what dementors were was almost as big a shock to Harry as meeting dozens of them down the street. "You're — you're a witch?"
"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off dementors? He left you completely without cover when I warned him"
"Has this Mundungus been following me? Wait a minute, it was him! He disappeared in front of my house!" he asked.
"Yes, yes, yes, but luckily, I'd stationed Mr. Tibbies under a car just in case, and Mr. Tibbies followed you to the mall, but it seemed he got lost, but when dementors came, I couldn't' do anything, being a squib — and now — oh, what's Dumbledore going to say? You!"
Upon hearing the name of his headmaster's name, Harry felt an enormous anger that consumed him inside. "Do you know Dumbledore?" asked Harry, staring at Mrs. Figg.
"Of course, I know Dumbledore. Who doesn't know Dumbledore? But let's go now because I won't be able to help you if they come back; I've never transformed even a tea bag." Mrs. Figg bent down, grabbed one of Petunia's arms with her parchment hands, and pulled her it up. Harry, in turn, picked up Dudley. Petunia who recovered, in a few steps ran to her son.
Harry looked disgusted at Vernon, who was on the ground helplessly and staring up at the sky. "They're very wounded," Ms. Figg said.
"They were exposed to the dementor's for a long time," Harry added.
"Oh, my little one, Dudley!" cried Petunia, seeing that her son did not react.
Harry picked Vernon up with a little effort and carried him inside. Mrs. Figg and Petunia sat Dudley on the couch. His cousin was pale, and his eyes were spinning like sockets. Harry tossed his uncle to Dudley's side.
"Why didn't you tell me you're a Squib?" Harry asked Mrs. Figg. "All those times I came round your house — why didn't you say anything?"
"Dumbledore's orders. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything, you were too young. I'm sorry I gave you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they'd thought you enjoyed it. It wasn't easy, you know… But oh, my word," she said tragically, wringing her hands once more. "when Dumbledore hears about this, how could Mundungus have left, he was supposed to be on duty until midnight, where is he? How am I going to tell Dumbledore what's happened, I can't Apparate"
"I've got an owl, you can borrow her," Harry groaned, wondering whether his spine was going to snap under Vernon's weight.
"Harry, you don't understand! Dumbledore will need to act as quickly as possible; the Ministry have their own ways of detecting underage magic, they'll know already, you mark my words."
Harry let out a slight grunt at the whispers that were tormenting him. ""But I was getting rid of dementors, I had to use magic — they're need to be more worried what dementors were doing floating around Little Whinging!"" growled Harry, causing Mrs. Figg to freak out at the sight of him angry.
"Oh, my dear, I wish it were so! But I'm afraid... MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"
There was a loud crack and a strong smell of mingled drink and stale tobacco filled the air as a squat, unshaven man in a tattered over coat materialized right in front of them. He had short bandy legs, long straggly ginger hair, and bloodshot baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look of a basset hound; he was also clutching a silvery bundle that Harry recognized at once as an Invisibility Cloak.
"'S' up, Figgy?" he said, staring from Mrs. Figg to Harry and the Dursley. "What 'appened to staying undercover?"
"I'll give you undcover!" cried Mrs. Figg. "Dementors! Useless, thief, lazy!"
"Dementors?" repeated Mundungus in horror. "Dementors, here?"
Harry heard Mrs. Figg and the man arguing; the noise of them and Petunia's crying, plus the voices in his head, were driving him crazy. "Silence!" shouted Harry, full of anger.
The three of them were silent and looked at him. "I don't care if Dumbledore sent you to protect me; I don't care if the ministry knows if I've used magic, but I want you out now," he ordered coldly.
Mundungus looked at him full of fear, and Mrs. Figg just played with her hands nervously. "Of course, Harry," she said, tremblingly.
Harry watched them leave the house. He closed the door and looked at Vernon and Dudley. "Fuck!" Harry growled.
He walked up to them and inspected them. "What happened to them?" asked Petunia, through tears.
"Dementors," Harry pointed out, taking Dudley's face. "Dudley," he said, snapping his fingers in front of his cousin face.
His cousin didn't seem to react to anything. "Look at my finger, Dudley," Harry ordered, wagging his finger in front of him, but still, Dudley didn't react.
The same thing happened with Vernon. "We need to take them to a hospital," Petunia said.
"No, they won't know what happened to them; Vernon and Dudley were exposed to the dementor's kiss; they ate from Vernon and Dudley's soul; we don't know how bad it was; it's better that they be treated in St. Mungus," Harry explained.
"This is all your fault!" cried Petunia, getting up and standing in front of him. "If you didn't live here, none of this would be happening." She raised her hand to slap him.
Harry growled and caught her hand in the air before she hit him. "Enough of this; none of this is my fault; don't exhaust my patience, woman," Harry growled, letting go of her hand. "If Dumbledore has me watched, someone will come for us and take your husband and son to a place where they will be healed."
Harry went to the kitchen, and he sat under the spotlight. For two hours, he sat in the chair while his aunt looked after her husband and son. "they've been watching me; they known everything that's going on with me, and Dumbledore done nothing to help me," Harry thought, his blood boiling. "I've written them letters explaining what's wrong with me, and they've ignored me."
Voices again echoed in his head for several minutes without stopping, telling Harry that no one loved him and that everyone had abandoned him. At that very moment, an owl flew like an arrow through the window, flew through the window, and grazed the crown of Uncle Vernon's head. Then he set down the large parchment envelope in his beak on the table in front of Harry, turned nimbly, lightly touching the top of the fridge with the tips of his wings, went out the way he had entered, and crossed the garden.
Harry opened the envelope and read the letter.
Dear Mr. Potter:
We have been informed that you performed the Patronus Charm at 9.23 p.m. tonight in an area inhabited by Muggles and in the presence of several Muggles. The severity of this breach of the Moderate Limitation of Witchcraft in Children Ordinance has led to his expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Soon, representatives of the ministry will travel to his place of residence to destroy his wand. Since you have already received an official warning for a previous violation of the Thirteenth Section of the International Confederation of the Statute of the Secret of Sorcerers, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic on August 12 at 09.00 hours.
Hoping you are well
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkins.
Harry crumpled up the letter and threw it on the floor. He couldn't hear anything; his mind was blank. He had finally been expelled from Hogwarts, all for helping his stupid family.
Harry heard his aunt Petunia's voice speak to him in the distance. "What did they tell you?" asked Petunia, after several attempts.
Harry didn't look at her; he continued to look at the letter. "I've been expelled," Harry muttered.
Vernon and Dudley are going to be able to be cured?" asked Petunia, with her eyes red from crying.
Harry glanced sideways at the Dursleys. "Yes," he said, sighing wearily. "If the dementors had taken out his soul, they would be an empty shell with no emotions."
"What were the dementors doing here? Aren't they the ones guarding Azkaban prison?" asked Petunia.
Harry looked at her strangely. After those words, there were two seconds of absolute silence, and then Aunt Petunia covered her mouth with one hand when she realized what she had said. "How do you know that?" he asked, standing up.
Petunia looked at him with eyes of terror. "Many years ago, I heard that boy who told Lily," she said.
This was the first time Petunia had said his mother's name, and he inspected her face and saw sadness in Petunia's green eyes. Except for a fit years ago, during which Aunt Petunia had shouted that Harry's mother was a monster, he had never heard her mention her sister.
"But why did they attack Dudley and Vernon?" muttered Petunia grimly. "They are not wizards like your mother or you, so why?"
Harry looked at her grimly. "He must have sent them," Harry remarked, a shiver invading his body at the mention of Voldemort.
"Who?" murmured Petunia quietly, almost in a whisper.
Harry's head was spinning, the kitchen light was bothering him, and the voices—the fucking voices—never shut up. "Lord Voldemort," Harry muttered.
Petunia's face turned pale, and her body began to tremble. "That was the one who..."
"He murdered my parents," Harry said.
Petunia shook her head. It was the first time Harry had seen a Muggle tremble in fear at the name of the most evil wizard in history. "No, he's dead," Petunia said, struggling to stay on her feet. "Dumbledore told me."
"He's back," Harry confirmed emphatically. "He came back a month ago; I fought him."
No more was said that night; Harry went upstairs to his room and left his aunt Petunia alone with her husband and son, trying in vain to help them, nor were there any other letters than the one from the ministry, saying that he was expelled.
Harry knew what that meant: the ministry would break his wand. Harry had one last hope that his friends or Sirius would send him a letter, but it didn't; no owls arrived.
Around 3 a.m., Harry went downstairs to the first floor, where his aunt was looking at her husband and son. There was no noise, the lights were off, and only the lamp in the room was on.
He looked at her from behind; it was the first time the house had felt like this. When he was about to say something, Harry clearly heard a noise in the kitchen. His Aunt Petunia was shocked, Harry quickly signaled for her to be quiet. Petunia covered her mouth with both hands so she wouldn't make a sound.
"Stay behind me," Harry whispered.
His aunt nodded and stood behind him. Harry took out his wand, and on his head, the dozens of spells he had seen in Voldemort's memories came to his head. "Death Eaters?" he thought.
His heart leapt into his throat. Outside, there were people. Their silhouettes stood out against the glare of the street lamps coming through the glass door of the street. His aunt's breasts pressed against his back, and he could feel her heart beating fast "Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," said a low, growling voice.
Harry's heart was pounding. He knew that voice, but he didn't lower his wand. "Professor Moody?" asked Harry confidently.
"I don't know so much about 'Professor,'" growled the voice, "never got round to much teaching, did I? now open the door, we want to see you properly."
But Harry never lowered his wand, nor did he move. He had very good reason to be suspicious. He had recently spent nine months in what he had thought was Mad-Eye Moody's company only to find out that it wasn't Moody at all, but an impostor; an impostor, moreover, who had tried to kill Harry before being unmasked. But before he could make a decision about what to do next, a second, slightly hoarse voice spoke.
"It's all right, Harry. We've come looking for you," said a voice he knew very well.
"Lupin?" Harry asked, his anger again starting to grow.
"Why are we out here?" asked a third voice, this time unknown, of a woman. "Alohomora!"
The door opened. Harry frowned and pointed his wand. The people showed themselves, staring at him. Some craned their necks to get a better look. Remus Lupin stood nearest to him. Though still quite young, Lupin looked tired and rather ill; he had more gray hair than when Harry had said good-bye to him, and his robes were more patched and shabbier than ever. Nevertheless, he was smiling broadly at Harry.
"Oooh, he doesn't look like I thought he would," said the witch who held her wand aloft. She looked like the youngest of the group. She had a pale heart-shaped face, dark, twinkling eyes, and short, spiky hair of a deep violet color. "Wotcher, Harry!"
"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," said a bald black wizard standing farthest back; he had a deep, slow voice and wore a single gold hoop in his ear. "He looks exactly like James."
"Except for the eyes," said a wheezy-voiced, silver-haired wizard at the back. "The eyes are Lily's."
"Are you quite sure it's him, Lupin?" he muttered. "What a problem we're going to have if we take a death eater pretending to be him. We'd have to ask him something that only the real Potter can know. Unless someone has brought Veritaserum."
"Harry, what form does your patronus take?" asked Lupin.
"A stag," Harry replied angrily.
Lupin looked at him, surprised by the way he responded. "It's him, Mad-Eye," Lupin said.
"Put your wand down, boy," Moody bellowed.
"Not until you explain to me who those over there are," Harry growled, referring to the woman and the others.
"Harry," Lupin murmured.
Everyone looked at him in surprise, apparently not expecting to find such a changed and annoyed Harry Potter. "She's Nymphadora Tonks; he's Kingsley Shacklebolt; this one right here is Dedalus Diggle. Emmeline Vance, and he's Elphias Doge," Lupin explained. "We're friends, Harry; there's no need for you to be alert."
Harry clenched his wand so hard that he thought it would break. "And these are Strugis Podmore and Hestia Jones," Kingsley continued, Harry looking at them all, remembering their faces.
"These Muggles need help; they've been kissed by Dementors; if you haven't come to help them, I don't know what you've come for," he growled, putting his wand down.
When he said that, the wizard Kingsley and Hestia ran to support Vernon and Dudley. "How long were they exposed to dementors?" asked Moody.
Harry watched as his cousin and uncle were inspected. "I don't know; we were arriving when the dementors were flying in front of us," Harry explained.
"They've been badly damaged," Hestia said, and upon hearing that, Petunia burst into tears.
"My family would be fine?" asked Petunia.
"We wouldn't know; we'd have to take them to a healer," Kingsley explained, helping Dudley to get up.
Diggle helped Hestia lift Vernon, who was very heavy. "A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you," said Lupin.
"Yeah, well, the more the better," said Moody darkly. "We're your guard, Potter." Harry let out a bitter laugh, and everyone looked at him strangely. "What's funny to you, kid?"
"You've done a horrible job being my guards," Harry laugh bitterly, pointing at Vernon and Dudley. "Placing incompetent wizards to protect me, and because of that, I was forced to use magic as a minor to save my family from dementors.
Lupin turned red with embarrassment. "Harry," the werewolf muttered.
"Five weeks," Harry growled grimly. "Five bloody weeks without knowing a shit."
"It was Dumbledore's orders," Moody said, looking at Harry seriously.
"They're lying," the voices whispered in his head.
"It doesn't matter anymore; I'm kicked out of Hogwarts now," Harry growled.
"The ministry can't kick you out of Hogwarts," Kingsley said.
"Dumbledore went to the ministry to speak so you wouldn't be expelled," Remus explained. "Didn't Arthur send you an owl explaining what happened?"
"Nobody's told a fucking shit!" Harry growled, his scar burning and his head pulsing like it was going to explode.
"Harry, we know you're upset," Diggle said in an attempt to calm him down.
"You don't know shit," Harry growled loudly, making everyone jump up. "You can't come here and pretend nothing has happened. If this has happened, it is your fault and incompetence. Look at putting an imbecile to watch me; that Mundungus went to buy stolen cauldrons; if you had put someone competent, I would not have had to use my wand; if you had told me what is going on in the wizarding world, none of this would have happened!"
Silence reigned in the house; he was agitated. "It was Dumbledore's orders."
Harry looked at Elphias Doge with murderous eyes. "If you mention Dumbledore's name again, I'll blow your fucking head off," Harry threatened him.
"Potter!" growled Moody. "We'll leave when they give us the green light; in the meantime, I suggest you calm down and you'd better go and get packed."
Harry stared at them for a few seconds and then went to his room to get his broomstick. "I think he's angry," Harry heard Hestia say.
"I'll come and help you," Tonks said. She followed Harry into the hall and went up the stairs with him, looking around with great curiosity and interest.
"What a weird place," she said. "It's too clean; I don't know if you understand me. They went into Harry's room, and he turned on the light.
Harry paid no attention to her and set out to get his things ready. His room was tidy. " Wow, you're pretty clean; opposite with Ron and the twins." Nymphadora said, trying to cheer him up.
At the mention of his friend, Harry let out a grunt. "You are going to shrink the suitcases?" asked Harry, once he was ready. "Or will I have to do it?"
"Oh, right," Tonks said, and with a wave of his wand, the trunks began to shrink. "I was told you were a very kind person, according to Hermione and Sirius' words."
Harry ignored her and just grabbed his belongings and broom and walked out the door. "Hey," Tonks stopped, and Harry looked at her. "I know you're upset, but that's no reason to be rude."
"We'd better leave before it's late," Harry said calmly.
She let go of him, and they went down to the hall. Everyone was murmuring, but when he arrived, everyone kept silent. "Ready?" he asked.
"Yes, Sturgis and Diggle will take your uncle and cousin to Tonk's mother, who is a healer; she will take care of them. I'm afraid we can't risk going to St. Mungus'; otherwise, we'll go to a safe place," Lupin explained.
"What's about her?" asked Harry, looking at his aunt, who was silent.
"She's coming with us," Moody ordered. "Dumbledore explained us that You-Know-Who can't find you due of the blood you share."
Harry just nodded. His aunt wanted to reproach, but he gave her a biting look that made the poor woman silent. "Harry, we need you to put on a disappointing enchantment." Lupin said. "you have an invisible cloak, but it wouldn't do you any good while we're flying. This will disguise you better. Here we go..."
Moody slapped him on the crown of his head, and Harry had a strange sensation, as if Moody had crushed an egg on his head. Then he felt cold threads running through his body from the point where the wand had struck him.
"Let's go," Moody ordered.
The Auror began to give orders for the formation they would take to reach the burrow. "I would have preferred it to be a bit cloudy; we'll fly in close formation. Tonks will be ahead of you, so don't separate yourself from his tail. Lupin will cover you from below. I'll go after you. Others will surround us. We don't have to break ranks under any circumstances, understand? If one of us dies, the others keep flying."
"How do I get on that?" asked Petunia fearfully.
Harry explained, and his aunt awkwardly climbed on the broomstick. "Hold on tight to me," he commanded.
"Don't be so cheerful, Mad-Eye, or he'll think we're not taking this seriously," Tonks chimed in.
"I'm just explaining the plan to the boy," Moody growled. "Our mission is to deliver him safely to headquarters, and if we die trying...
"Nobody's going to die," Kingsley Shacklebolt said in his deep, calming voice.
"Ride the brooms; that's the first signal!" said Lupin, suddenly pointing to the sky.
Above them, in the distance, a shower of bright red sparks had burst among the stars. Harry recognized them instantly; they were wand sparks. He ran his right leg over his Firebolt, gripped the handle tightly, and felt the broom vibrate a little, as if it was wanting as much as he did to take flight once more.
"Second sign, let's go!" Lupin shouted as sparks flew again, this time green, above their heads.
They all took flight, some heading for Tonks' mother's house, while Harry and the others headed for who knows where.
They flew for a couple of hours, and due to Moody's paranoia, his aunt clung to him tightly and buried her face in his back.
Tonks was the first to land; a few seconds later, Harry touched down right behind her and dismounted on a patch of unkempt grass in the middle of a small square, Harry and Petunia looked around. The grimy fronts of the surrounding houses were not welcoming; some of them had broken windows, glimmering dully in the light from the street lamps, paint was peeling from many of the doors, and heaps of rubbish lay outside several sets of front steps.
"Where are we?" asked Petunia.
But Lupin said quietly, "In a minute." Moody was rummaging in his cloak, his gnarled hands clumsy with cold.
Moody was rummaging in his cloak, his gnarled hands clumsy with cold. "Got it," he muttered, raising what looked like a silver cigarette lighter into the air and clicking it.
The nearest streetlamp went out with a pop. He clicked the un lighter again; the next lamp went out. He kept clicking until every lamp in the square was extinguished and the only light in the square came from curtained windows and the sickle moon overhead.
"Borrowed it from Dumbledore," growled Moody, pocketing the Put-Outer. "That'll take care of any Muggles looking out of the window, see? Now, come on, quick."
Everyone walked from the patch of grass, across the road, and onto the pavement. Lupin and Tonks followed, the rest of the guard, all with their wands out, flanking them.
The muffled pounding of a stereo was coming from an upper window in the nearest house. A pungent smell of rotting rubbish came from the pile of bulging bin-bags just inside the broken gate, that it make Petunia gag.
"Here," Moody muttered, thrusting a piece of parchment toward Harry hand and holding his lit wand close to it, so as to illuminate the writing. "Read quickly and memorize." Harry looked down at the piece of paper. The narrow handwriting was vaguely familiar. It said:
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London