12 hours ago…
Before the Order left the headquarters.
When Dudley's stomach was weeping from hunger.
When Pig was alive.
When Harry Potter snapped.
And the letter that started the biggest manhunt after the fiasco of Black's escape from Azkaban.
The wind was particularly fierce that morning. It snapped, shook, and snarled at everything in its path. Weather forecasts had predicted a fine evening and a windy afternoon, but the way the winds were strutting, Harry had a feeling they were in for a storm.
Great, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his threadbare, hand-me-down elephant skins, which were already on the verge of collapsing. They were so worn and torn that Harry had started naming the holes in his shirt. His favorite pair were the ones by the cuff, and he'd christened them Brad and Chad.
He'd need to think of something to keep warm if the weather didn't calm down.
The windows rattled loudly, sending a shiver down his spine. Cursing under his breath, Harry tried to slam them shut, but the wind had already opened them wide. A sharp whistling screech tore through the gusts of wind just in time for the window to slam shut with an almighty bang.
On his table, a shivering brown mass—Pig—went through another round of painful convulsions. Harry sighed, looking down at the scrappy owl and pulling down the latch.
With a sigh, he picked up a napkin and crouched down, starting to care for the poor creature of his best friend. It was afternoon, but it already felt like nightfall, with the skies darkening and the wind wailing.
Pig looked up at him, its glassy eyes barely focusing.
Harry glared at the owl, untangling the letters tied to Pig's leg.
"Hedwig," he muttered, "looks like we have company."
Among the letters were ones from Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, the twins, and Gringotts. Harry opened the Gringotts letter first, tossing the others aside.
Hadrian Jameson Charles Potter
Heir Apparent
Ancient and Noble House of Potter
Your presence has been requested on the 10th of Merlian, Year 1399 at 5 AM, for the will reading of Arcturus Hyperion Black, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black.
Grimjaw,
Head of Black Accounts
Gringotts
Arcturus… Sirius's grandfather. Should he write to Sirius? No. Harry's lip curled in a bitter smile. Let them stew in ignorance like I have, he thought viciously.
But the storm was raging outside, and he knew members of the Order were still out there, watching him. Harry clenched his fists, unwilling to give in to the rising anger.
He followed his usual routine to keep up appearances, avoiding any suspicion. He wrote a single letter that he would send tomorrow, extinguished the lights, and leaned back, feeling the weight of everything bearing down on him.
The problem, of course, was that he didn't know whether Mad-Eye Moody was on duty today. He hadn't bothered to keep track of the guard rotations.
I've made a mess of this, Harry cursed to himself. The only escape would be once he was away from Little Whinging… he could summon the Knight Bus. But how would he even get there? He doubted pulling a stunt like he did in his third year would work with the Order watching him now.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps creaked around his room. Looking through the flap in his door, he saw Dudley, stubby cigar in hand, muttering to someone in the hallway.
"Babe, you know how it is. Promise I'll take you out tomorrow."
Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes. Well, look at that. Pig has himself a mate, he mused, unsure how to feel about it.
"Yeah, baby, I know," came the voice from outside, much to Harry's disgust.
Then Dudley's voice dropped, now serious, as he cleared his throat. "By the way, you left your dress here last night."
Harry raised an eyebrow. My my, Dudders is growing up, isn't he?
He couldn't help the dry chuckle that escaped. I hope they used protection, or Dudley's going to become another statistic in the teen parent club.
But that gave Harry an idea.
