The Battle of Privet Drive

Harry

There were no teachers anywhere. They all looked, but the castle seemed to be without supervision. No McGonagall, Sprout, Snape, or Dumbledore. Still, they had been given direct orders to not go, so they did the next-best thing. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Rosalie holed up in Dumbledore's office.

And they made BINGO cards.

"Yours will have to be different from ours," Hermione told Draco and Rosalie while Harry paced the carpet underneath the Sorting Hat. "Because we're already so far into the year. Actually, should we make all new ones? I'm not sure."

"I'm not sure how we can top what's already happened," Rosalie said.

"Fair," Hermione agreed. "Alright, Ron and Harry and I'll keep our old ones, and we'll make new ones as a group. I'm only one off a BINGO anyway… I've just got to visit the hospital wing again."

"Knock on wood," Rosalie said. "This is a bad night to make that request out loud."

Harry grumbled and turned around again in the carpet. Draco watched him. "I've never been in this room without one of you lot," he said. "If I could go back in time, I'd let myself know that being friends with Harry Potter is too much work."

"Some Hufflepuff you are," Ron said.

"Fight me, Weasley."

By the time Harry'd completed another lap, Ron and Draco had begun arm wrestling. Rosalie was sitting in Dumbledore's desk chair. Hermione was sitting on the steps up to his room.

Rosalie examined the instruments on the desk quietly and poked at them with her wand. Harry was half expecting one to blow up. But they continued whirring and humming as if nothing had happened. "Do you think it's possible to create a horcrux detector out of the one horcrux we have?" she asked. "Like a metal detector?"

"I have no idea," Draco replied.

"I was kinda talking aloud to Hermione. Sorry, Draco."

Hermione tapped her fingers against the railing of the stairs. "The horcrux has to emit some sort of energy," she said. "Because we can feel that one in the diadem. If it emits, then it can be tracked, right?"

"Right," Rosalie replied. "I wonder if it radiates?"

"That's a good idea!" Hermione said. "We should-"

One of the metal instruments on Dumbledore's desk turned a violent red. At the same time, Harry's scar flared up and he stumbled to his knees, grabbing it. He heard Hermione get up and felt her take his face, but the pain was so intense that he just kept moving to a crouch.

"Do you see anything?" Ron asked. "Is he there?"

"No," Harry said. "No… I…"

"Harry," Draco said. "Your mind is a mirror. Make your mind a mirror."

Harry caught sight of a mirrored cabinet in the corner of his eye and pictured a mirror in between his scar and his head. And he imagined the pain coming through his scar reflecting off the mirror. It lessened, and he was able to see properly.

"Put the mirror around your whole brain," Draco instructed. "All the way around."

Harry did so, and the pain faded to an intense prickling in his scar. As if thousands of tiny creatures were stomping across his scar. He sat up.

"This is red," Rosalie said, prodding the instrument on Dumbledore's desk. She picked it up and examined the wood underneath it. "It's definitely been covering the desk for a while, but he cleans regularly. There's only a little dust. Funny it would go red right when Harry's scar acts up."

"We were told to stay here," Hermione said. "Dumbledore would-"

"Dumbledore!" A voice suddenly screeched into the room, making them all jump. "Dumbledore! The Dursleys are under attack! Death Eaters have just broken the wards down!"

Harry recognised the voice of his next-door neighbour. "Ms. Figg?" he asked. Hermione pointed to the fireplace. In the coals was the outline of Ms. Figg's face.

"Is there anyone already there, Ms. Figg?" Harry asked. "Can you see anyone?"

"Mr. Dursley is in the doorway!" Ms. Figg cried. "They got him… he's in the doorway!"

But she suddenly pulled out of the fire and vanished. Harry felt sick to his stomach. He did not love Uncle Vernon. He did not like him. Even just a little bit. But he did not want him to die like this.

Hermione seemed to read his thoughts. "Dumbledore," she said. "Underage magic? Harry?"

Then a voice came into his head, very clear. "But you know what you have to do, don't you?"

Harry looked up. The sword of Gryffindor was set by the Sorting Hat. Had it been the hat that spoke? But no, an image was coming into view just beside the fireplace. Little pinpricks of light floated up from the floor out of nothing and put themselves together in the form of a man in front of Harry. Laced up boots and thick legs… the outline of Godric Gryffindor was heavier-set than Harry imagined him being. A bit like Neville, instead of him.

Harry looked around to see who was having the same crazy dream he was. Everyone was frozen and cowering. Rosalie was leaning away from Gryffindor in the chair like she was about to fall out of it.

Godric leaned down. "Don't tread on these sacred grounds," he said, little lights moving in his lips has he spoke. "Don't climb these ethereal walls. For the hand that war surrounds-"

The words were pulled from Harry's mouth without him really thinking about it. "Is the hand that hardest falls," he breathed.

Godric Gryffindor picked the sword of Gryffindor up off the mantle and turned it around to offer Harry the handle.

He thought about it. Remembered he was not supposed to go. But Ms. Figg should have seen the Order, shouldn't she have? And if he didn't go and Aunt Petunia and Dudley and Vernon all died… could he forgive himself?

No, probably not, because he was like Godric Gryffindor. At the end of the day, when everything was right in his life, the thing he prioritised the most was going to fight for others.

Without even thinking about it, Harry wrapped his hand around the sword. The outline of Godric Gryffindor began to dissolve and all of those little lights started to surround Harry, tracing his wrist and fingertips and knees and feet. He got to his feet and reached for the floo powder beside Dumbledore's fireplace.

"Harry!" Hermione said. "Wait!"

But he was a rolling stone already in motion and threw the powder into the fireplace. "Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging," he said, and stepped into the flames.

Harry felt himself siphoning through time and space and being squished into a million spaces when he came to a rough stop in between drywall and boards. He heard screaming on the other side of the drywall.

Unfortunately, he'd stopped horizontally and was rather squished up. He braced his free arm above him, grateful he hadn't stabbed himself with the sword yet, and forced his feet through the drywall. A hole appeared and Harry was able to drop out of it and onto the floor beside the electric stove in the Dursley's kitchen. Behind him was Aunt Petunia, who had been hiding there. And in front of him were three Death Eaters, who didn't know what to make of him appearing in the line of fire.

Harry didn't waste a moment. He swung the sword.

Never in a hundred years did he think he'd be fighting with a sword against a person. Fighting against the Basilisk had been surreal enough. But a real person… he wasn't sure he could do this.

The moment that the doubt sunk in, an invigorating feeling of bravery rushed through him. His hand practically raised itself and sunk into the wand arm of one of the Death Eaters, who yelled and dropped his wand. Harry stomped on it. The stomp seemed much more powerful than anything that could have come from him, and the tile floor cracked under his foot. The wand was left in splinters

Harry swung again and caught another Death Eater in the chest, who collapsed and covered the wound. Harry, who still had one foot braced from stomping one wand, kicked out with the other and sent the Death Eater out cold.

There was a rush from the fireplace behind him and Hermione appeared with her wand drawn. She had a green light all about her and Harry guessed that aside from all the little lights that were clinging to him, he probably looked the same. She yelled "Stupefy!" and the last death eater was sent through the window of the kitchen and through a pile of clean chinaware.

Ron came next through the hole. Then suddenly, Rosalie was there. "You got a car?" she asked Aunt Petunia. "Yeah – is that a yes? Well, where are the keys?"

A scream came from up the stairs. Harry leaped into action and dashed into the hall. He ran headlong into Professor Lupin and it was only by a miracle that he didn't slice him open – a knowledge that was not his own seemed to be wielding the sword for him.

"Harry?" Professor Lupin shouted.

"Dudley!" Harry shouted back and jumped up the stairs. Was it possible to take the stairs three at a time? It seemed he did. He skidded down the hallway – were all modern floors this slippery – and used the sword to catch himself on the door frame to Dudley's room.

Dudley was on the floor and the same witch Harry had seen grinning in his vision two hours ago was on top of him and using her wand to carve something into Dudley's face. Harry leaped forward, wielding the sword like a baseball ball, and knocked her to the side of the room with the flat side. Lupin appeared behind him, huffing. "Harry, what are you doing?"

"I saw Godric Gryffindor, and he gave me this sword and the floo powder…" Harry was half babbling, he knew, but was in too much of a frenzy to really explain everything as he got a hand under Dudley's arm and tried to lift his cousin up. "Dudley, come on, we've got to get to the car now…"

Ron skidded into view. "Harry!" He shouted. "Dumbledore's out front!"

"Excellent! Go get him!"

"No, Harry, Dumbledore's out front fighting!"

Harry got the message. They were on their own. Dumbledore was holding them off.

Lupin helped Dudley sit upright. Three hideous letters were written into his left cheek and another cut was on his nose, where a fourth had been started. They read "MUG".

Lupin's gaze suddenly focused on the witch Harry had swung at. "Protego!" He bellowed and deflected a curse she'd fired at them. She apparently had not been knocked out, but merely winded, and now was recovered enough to fire upon them. "I'll take her," Lupin whispered. "You get him out of here!"

Harry made a furious gesture to Ron. "Feather-light charm!" he gasped. "Come on!"

Ron took Lupin's place and began to mutter furiously, but the charm wouldn't take for some reason. Harry couldn't tell if it was Ron's spellwork or his cousin's mass. But after a few seconds of trying, Dudley was hardly any lighter, and Ron was glancing to Lupin.

"You taught us to fight," he said. "I know how to do that. I'll join Lupin. I'm sorry, Harry."

"Be careful," Harry said, then turned to Dudley. "You awake?" he asked.

Dudley nodded.

"Great." Harry pushed his glasses up his nose. "We need to get to your mom's car."

Dudley got onto his fat knees and began to crawl to the door, looking like a panda heading for bamboo. On the way out, he grabbed a shirt from his closet and pressed it against the cuts on his face. Once in the hall, he got to his feet, only for a stray curse to hit the doorframe. Harry pushed him out, holding the Sword of Gryffindor in between him and the fight. Only one other spell bounced out of the room, and Harry deflected it.

Dudley stopped halfway down the stairs and began to whimper. Harry dug his elbow into his back. "Move it!" he bellowed.

"Harry?" Hermione came around the corner from the kitchen. "Harry, who's up there?"

"Ron and Lupin," Harry said. "Hermione, help me get him to the car-"

"Careful Harry!" Hermione ducked out of his line of sight. The front door was open and Harry was aware of a large fight going on in the front yard. Different spells were flying and car alarms were sounding and Harry could hear the neighbours shouting in fear.

Then Hermione came back into view, hauling the body of Uncle Vernon, who she'd evidently just charmed for feather-lightness. She laid him in the living room. His skin was grey. Harry's heart fell to the pit of his stomach. He had not even seen Uncle Vernon in his haste to find Dudley. He met Hermione's eyes in horror. "Is he…?"

Hermione moved Uncle Vernon's neck around and put her fingers to his neck. She moved them around, leaned down to listen for breath, and then looked back up at Harry. "His mom's in the car," she said. "Rosalie's driving. Come on – let's get him out of here."

Harry dug his elbow into Dudley's back. "We've got to move. I'm sorry; move now!"

Dudley put his feet down on the next stair and began moving again. As they moved around the door, Harry slammed and locked it. Upstairs, someone hit the floor with an 'oof!' Harry's blood ran cold. "Ron?" He yelled. "Professor Lupin? Ron!"

Hermione took hold of the stairs and wretched herself up. She disappeared in seconds and Harry had to hope that he hadn't just seen one of them for the last time.

Harry hustled Dudley past his father's body and into the kitchen and out the back door, into the garage. Rosalie was in the driver seat, face white, key in the ignition ready to go. Aunt Petunia was in the passenger seat, crouched down. Harry, on a whim, pointed Gryffindor's sword at the back seat door. "Alohomora!" he yelled, and even though the spell was only supposed to unlock the door, it burst open. Harry pushed his cousin to the door.

A shadow appeared in the door they'd come from and someone yelled "Crucio!"

Harry heard the word and braced himself for the pain. He remembered it well from his time in the graveyard last June. He was ready for it this time.

But then he heard Rosalie screaming in the front seat of Uncle Vernon's BMW. And the air around his vicinity grew very, very red. He turned, and felt taller, wider, more powerful. He glared down at the Death Eater casting the curse, who had very long blonde hair behind his mask.

Before Harry could do anything, though, he saw a yellow light behind the Death Eater's head, and then he suddenly collapsed, as if he'd decided to sleep on the spot. Harry expected a crunch when the Death Eater hit the ground, but he suddenly slowed, and then was lowered gently down.

Draco's head appeared in thin air above his father's frame. He had black stuff – charcoal? – spread all over his face. And he had Harry's invisibility cloak, which Harry had no idea how he'd found it. And he was lit up brighter than Harry had ever seen him with yellow – so bright it was leaking through the folds of the cloak.

He did not look at Harry though. The second his father was safely on the ground, he ran to Rosalie and put his hands on the glass to stare through the window at her. She was trembling, but she rolled down the window to say, "I'm fine!"

Harry seemed to be back to normal height now. He forced the last of his cousin into the backseat and slammed the door. "Start the car!" he bellowed. He ran to the garage door opener on the side of the garage. Draco and Rosalie finished a furious conversation, and then Harry saw Draco lean through the door of the car to kiss her. He almost exploded then and there. "START THE CAR!" he yelled and hit the opener.

Draco leaned back and pulled the invisibility cloak into place. Rosalie leaned into the back seat and Harry saw her mouth, "Buckle up, now." The engine came on and the car went into gear and the moment it was up enough, the car flew out of the garage.

Two unlucky Death Eaters had seen the door moving and come to stare curiously at what it was. One was hit head on and flown up, up, over the roof of the car as Rosalie shot into the driveway. The second went under the car and Harry looked no further. He ran into the front after the car, sword still drawn and funny lights still flickering around him, though he seemed to have lost a few.

Rosalie was a good driver, he knew this, but bloody hell, could the girl drive like a bat out of hell. No sooner had she exited the driveway than she veered back into the yard and everyone fighting on the lawn was forced to dive away. Except… she didn't drive on the lawn. She somehow managed to begin turning left out of the driveway, swerve into the road, flip the car one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, and got the front right wheel caught in the road swell. Then she put the car into two-wheel drive and floored the gas like some sort of commercial with a "Trained Stunt Driver: Do Not Try At Home" sticker at the bottom of it and the car's rear end made an arc one way, and an arc the other way, and an arc the first way again.

A fan appeared under the car wheels. Aunt Petunia's prize-winning lawn was destroyed in about three seconds. Harry didn't understand why she'd done it until he saw something slithering into the flower beds. Nagini had just gotten away.

Death Eaters fired at the car and Harry heard Aunt Petunia screaming. Rosalie put the car into reverse and backed up into the fight, then shot off down the road. She pulled an arc in front of the house again and all the Death Eaters fired to the left side of the street, thinking that was where she was headed. Then she spun a donut once, twice, twice and a half and then shot off to the right of the house. She was gone in seconds, with no one else fast enough fire after her.

The surprise and the distraction was enough for the Order to get the jump on the Death Eaters. Voldemort's servants, seeing that their target had just left, began to disapparate rather than fight. Harry saw Dumbledore and Tonks and Mr. Weasley there. He ran after the snake, but there was nothing in the flower beds. He took the sword and cut underneath all the stems. Only dirt appeared.

"What are you looking for?" Draco's voice came from nearby.

"The snake!" Harry said. "The snake… Rosalie tried to get the snake!"

"I got the snake, Potter. I'm leaving now, before I'm caught."

Harry looked up and around, but Draco was nowhere to be see. Duh, that was the point of the cloak. He hadn't even thought about it in the chaos, but if Draco were caught, at the very least, he'd be cut off. At the most… his father could be killed for passing information about this raid to them. And Draco himself could be hunted down by the Dark Lord.

His friends were putting their lives on the line for his family. Rosalie had just endured the Cruciatus Curse. Hermione and Ron and Lupin were upstairs and at least one of them was on the floor now.

That thing started happening again. Harry felt taller and stronger, and his limbs felt thicker than he was used to having them. He heaved the sword in his hand and remembered how it had felt massively, impossibly big to twelve-year-old him.

He aimed the sword at a Death Eater facing Tonks. "Expelliarmus!" He bellowed, and the Death Eater's wand flew directly up into the sky. Tonks glanced his way and jumped. Harry levelled his sword at another Death Eater. "Expelliarmus!"

The two disarmed Death Eaters disapparated with a crack. There were only two left and they were both fighting Dumbledore. Harry was ready to help when, out of the house, came even more screaming.

Maybe it had been happening for a moment, but the sounds of battle had drowned it out. But the moment the sound hit Harry, he recognised it as Hermione's.

He turned and ran into the front door. Didn't even open it – just ran through the wood. He took the stairs three at a time and crunched the steps down into each other wherever his feet touched the board.

At the end of the hall, Professor Lupin lay against the wall, groaning. His fingers were flinching towards a wand that was not there. Just inside the door was Ron, petrified. And that same crazy witch had picked up her wand and was putting into Hermione's bicep the same thing he'd stopped her doing to Dudley. And she was using Hermione's own wand to do it.

Harry levelled the sword at her and yelled, "Stupefy!" and the witch went flying through the wall. She did not go all the way through, but she punched a hole in the sheetrock and bounced off the insulation protecting the outside of the house.

Harry did not stop there. Two more stupefies and a full body bind followed before he bothered to check that she was down. Hermione's wand had been abandoned beside its owner.

Finally, he dropped down beside her. "I'm so sorry I left," he whispered. He looked over the bloody gashes in her arm. They didn't spell "Muggle", but instead spelled, "Mudblood". "Hermione? Can you hear me? You're going to be alright."

He was not prepared for Hermione to blearily look up at him and ask, "Who are you?"

A million of the worst-case scenarios rushed through his head. Had she been tortured into insanity? Like the Longbottoms? Had she had her memory erased?

But then Nymphadora Tonks appeared in the doorway, wand drawn, and said "We appreciate your help, sir, but who are you?"

"What?" Harry asked. "It's me."

Dumbledore appeared behind Tonks. "Yes, I thought so," he said. "And didn't I tell you to stay at school?"

"School?" Tonks repeated.

"Ms. Figg called and said my uncle was down in the doorway! The wards were broken!"

Dumbledore nodded. "You were right, of course, to come," he said. "We couldn't have saved them without you. There were far more than we expected."

The room seemed to be growing a bit bigger around Harry. He felt he was getting smaller. What had all that been? Some crazy adrenaline rush? Tonks was staring at him with her mouth open and her hair had gone its normal brown colour from the shock.

"Harry," Dumbledore said patiently. "The person we saw down there was not you. The person we saw down there was Godric Gryffindor."

Bellatrix Lestrange was the only Death Eater they caught alive. The one Rosalie had driven over was dead in the driveway. Every other one, from Malfoy Senior in the garage door entrance to the one that had gone over the top of the car had disapparated while still unconscious. Bellatrix had to be taken to Saint Mungo's though, and within an hour, had mysteriously vanished.

Rosalie had found them by starting a barbecue in a park and putting floo powder in. She was a city away and Dudley was still bleeding badly. Instead of taking him to a Muggle hospital, Dumbledore convinced Aunt Petunia to let him go to Saint Mungo's. They arrived around the same time as the aurors supposed to be guarding Bellatrix arrived and the news of her disappearing leaked out. Disappointing, was the only thing Harry could think. After three stunning spells, too.

Draco was fine. Ron was fine – only needing to be revived and treated for bruising. Harry was glad that it had been Mr. Weasley and not Mrs. Weasley to be there, because Mr. Weasley handled the situation much more gracefully. Lupin had a concussion, but was otherwise alright. It had been Ron Harry had heard hit the floor.

Rosalie had some lingering shakes from the Cruciatus and seemed absolutely terrified out of her wits. She stayed in the hospital wing, sipping calming drought and whispering to herself lists of things she was trying to keep organised. Some of it was horcruxes. Some of it was spells. Some of it was homework. Some of it was potions ingredients. Draco sat beside her in a tender way Harry had not ascribed to him before, wrapping her chilly fingers in his when they shook and kissing each of the fingers one by one until she was taking deep breaths.

Hermione had also earned herself a stay in the hospital wing. Bellatrix had put some sort of smoke in the air during their fight that had made her short of breath and her arm would not stop bleeding until Madam Pomfrey had negated the spell Bellatrix Lestrange had used to carve. By that point, the ugly word had bled too long to simply fade away. Madame Pomfrey dressed the wound and let Harry sit beside her while she slept.

Harry traced Hermione's right hand as he sat, then opened it to examine the green Slytherin written on her thumb line. Hers was a more elegant font than his was. Though he suspected it wasn't a font at all. It was likely the handwriting of the founders themselves.

Four beds down, Rosalie began to hyperventilate again. "Too much… it's too much!" she gasped.

"Hey… hey." He heard Draco whisper in response. There was the sound of a kiss on a fingertip. "One." Another. "Two." Slowly, he got her to count along with him. Every one of her fingers. By six, Harry could hear her taking deep breaths again. Then, on eleven, when she'd run out of fingers, he heard her chuckle a little bit. He didn't need to turn around to know how that one ended.

Harry threaded his fingers through Hermione's.

"This is a lot, Draco," Rosalie whispered. "I thought I wanted this life, because I like you. But it's a lot."

Harry was no longer certain what he was listening in on.

Draco did not make a sound for several seconds. Was he aware Harry could hear them? Then he said, "Give it time, please, Rosalie? I know this last week has been hectic. Hogwarts isn't always this insane. You told me that it takes about six weeks to get used to a new situation, right?"

"Right."

"Give it six weeks. And if you still hate it… then we can write until I finish school. That worked out well enough, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it did."

"You were doing just fine being homeschooled."

"But… I'm over Ravenclaw now. I've never been a Ravenclaw and I'm over Ravenclaw and-"

Harry could hear her breathing hastening again. Once again, Draco broke in, "Hey… hey…" One kiss on a fingertip. "One." Another. "Two." They made it to five, and Draco said, "You didn't ask for this. And if you want to study elsewhere, I'll support you doing that. Unless you don't want me there…?"

"I do want you there," Rosalie said. "I know it sounds crazy, but the second I saw you, I knew I wanted to know you and what you were like. I like you."

"Eh," Draco said, as if this did not mean much to him. "You like everyone."

"But I don't like everyone the way I like you."

Draco hummed. "Well, I don't like anyone, but I kinda like you."

"Just a little, right?"

"This much."

They laughed, and Rosalie's bed squeaked as if they'd both laid down on it, which they might have for all Harry knew. It wasn't any of his business, he thought as he traced Hermione's thumbnail with his own. He was just sitting in the same room as them. Just waiting to see if the love of his life would wake up.

That was a bit melodramatic. Love of his life? They'd been dating for… the same amount of time as Rosalie and Draco sure, but they were all under seventeen. As far as he knew, the four of them had the same number of I-love-yous between them – zero.

Best friend, for sure. He'd finally started thinking of Hermione as his true best friend back in November, instead of Ron and her constantly sharing that spot. Girlfriend, absolutely. First love? Love period? Who knew?

He held his hand in between her own and warmed her fingers up slowly.

A hand landed on his shoulder. A bunch of silvery fabric fell into his lap. "This was left in my office," Dumbledore said. "I believe Mr. Malfoy thought you would return there."

Harry picked up the invisibility cloak and then turned to look at Draco and Rosalie. As he'd thought, they were laying beside each other in her hospital bed. She had her ear to his chest and was taking deep breaths as she, Harry assumed, listened to his heartbeat.

"I've put up a privacy ward, so they can't hear us, and you can stop having to hear them," Dumbledore said kindly.

Harry nodded. "Thank you, sir," he said. His mouth felt a bit dry. Dumbledore conjured a cup, filled it with water, and offered it to Harry. He drank slowly.

"It is good," Dumbledore said softly, "That that cloak allowed Mr. Malfoy to aide you all tonight. It… warms my soul to see it used in such a way."

Harry set the empty cup down. It immediately refilled itself. He took Hermione's hand. "It didn't all turn out well," he said. "Rosalie seems absolutely broken up."

"It seems to me that Mr. Malfoy is proving himself to be quite the Hufflepuff," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "For she is quite a unique find."

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion and looked up at Dumbledore. "What?" he asked.

"Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders."

"Yes, I know… why are you telling me this?"

Dumbledore pulled a kerchief out of his sleeve and smoothed it out over his lap. "I have a confession, Harry, and one that Ms. Granger deduced the moment she knew I had examined the cloak. Underneath such a powerful magical item… the night your parents died surely would have gone differently."

Harry felt every muscle in his body go still. When he looked up, Dumbledore had tears in his eyes and one rolling down beside his crooked nose. "Alas," Dumbledore said. "I asked to borrow it, only for three days. So that I could deduce its origin. I have regretted asking ever since."

Harry was not sure what to think. The anger that filled him was almost too much to hold all at once. He found himself taking deep breaths. Like Rosalie, but for a different reason.

Dumbledore blotted at the tears on his face. "I know there is no making up for what happened to your parents," he said. "But I am grateful the cloak aided in saving your aunt." He sniffed and stood. "I get the feeling you need time to be alone after this. Before I go, I have one more thing to say to you."

"What?" Harry asked, softly.

"I'm sorry for ignoring you the past few months. Please forgive me. And when you want to know why, come up to my office and I'll explain it to you."

The next chapter will be called Harry Declares War. I'll post it early if I get five reviews.