Chapter 4: To the Burrow

A couple weeks passed, and Harry was still trying to wrap his head around life with Uncle Severus. To his relief, his uncle hadn't mentioned anything about finding him rifling through the letters in his attic, and seemed to be pretending it had never happened. He knew that, had it been Aunt Petunia instead, he would have been grounded for weeks and given about a million chores. Uncle Severus didn't make Harry do chores at all; he simply used magic to handle all of the cleaning. He basically allowed his nephew to do whatever he wanted with his time, though Harry knew better than to push the limits by going snooping around the house again. As for Uncle Severus, he seemed to spend a lot of time in his study. Harry wasn't entirely sure what he was doing in there, but supposed that it wasn't strange for a teacher who was only a couple weeks away from the new school year to be spending time on administrative tasks.

On this particular day, Harry was doing some administrative tasks of his own, of a sort. Namely, he was answering letters from his school friends. This correspondence was his biggest lifeline when it came to surviving Summers with his family, especially because, up until very recently, he'd been living with muggles who hated magic. They barely allowed him to write to his friends, much less to read any magical newspapers, and as a result Harry felt very isolated from the magical world while at home. Of course, another benefit of moving in with his wizard uncle was that Uncle Severus had a subscription to The Daily Prophet, the biggest magical periodical in all of Great Britain, and he allowed Harry to read it as much as he wished. Still, this Summer had been so strange that talking it over with his friends was one of the few things keeping him sane. And he hadn't even shared with them anything about the mysterious stranger at the Ministry, or the locket he'd given him. He would save that story for when he was finally able to see his friends in person to ensure that that information didn't fall into the wrong hands should his letters be intercepted.

Harry slid the first letter closer to himself, one written by one of his best friends, Hermione Granger. He could always count on Hermione to send lots of letters and still find plenty of things to say in each one.

Dear Harry,

The new term is starting soon and I still haven't received my supply list yet. Has it taken this long for them to send those out in previous years? It seems like they're going out late. I hope the owl carrying mine didn't get lost, have you gotten yours yet? Perhaps I should send a letter to Dumbledore to ask. Or at least to inform him that I won't be home to receive it at this rate, I'm to be spending the last couple of weeks of Summer at the Burrow with the Weasleys. I know Mrs. Weasley is going to be wanting to have you over as well so I hope to see you there soon.

It's still so strange to me that you're living with Professor Snape. It's weird to think about our teachers having a life outside of school, even if he is your uncle. I can't believe your aunt kicked you out like that, she really does sound like a horrid woman. And to kick you out right after you were attacked by dementors and then nearly kicked out of school for it is outrageous! I know I said the same thing in my last letter but I can't get over it.

I need to go pack for the Weasleys' now but I meant what I said; you simply must join us. Ron should be writing to you soon as well, I suppose with a more formal invitation. I'll write again soon if I don't see you at the Burrow before then.

With love,

Hermione Granger

Harry smiled and set Hermione's letter aside before picking up the other letter on his desk, written by his other best friend, Ron Weasley, who was much more brief and to the point.

Harry,

Come and spend the rest of the Summer with us, Mum has already set up the extra bed for you in my room. You don't even have to write ahead, just come through the Floo Network as soon as you get this.

Ron

Harry sighed, wanting nothing more than to meet up with his two best friends at the Weasley home. It had become a bit of a tradition for them to do so, and the Dursleys had always been pleased to have Harry out of their hair a couple weeks early. And he was sure that Uncle Severus would be fine with it as well, more than fine even if it meant a couple weeks of solitude before the start of the new school year. The trouble was that Harry found it difficult to ask his uncle for things, or to initiate conversation with him at all. With Uncle Severus being as introverted as he was, Harry almost felt guilty for disturbing his peace to ask him questions. But for the opportunity to spend the last couple weeks of Summer with the Weasleys, Harry would simply have to be brave.

As usual, Uncle Severus was in his study, bent over some papers on his desk. Harry walked up to the door three separate times before finally ushering up the will to knock. There was a brief pause before the answer.

"Come in," said Uncle Severus. And so Harry opened the door. He'd only been inside his uncle's study a handful of times. There wasn't really much to see; just a desk, a chair, and a bookshelf. Simple and practical, with decent lighting to avoid straining one's eyes when reading.

"Sorry to bother you, Uncle," Harry said. Uncle Severus only stared at him silently, waiting for his nephew to proceed. "Um, you know my friend, Ron?"

"I'm familiar with Mr. Weasley, yes."

"Right. Well, his family has invited me to go and spend the rest of the Summer with them. If that's alright with you, of course."

Harry asking his uncle's permission for things was something that was a bit strange and new to both of them, but, to Harry's relief, Uncle Severus nodded. "Very well. Will you be needing an escort?"

Harry relaxed a little, a sense of calmness washing over him now that the hard part was over. "Thank you, Uncle. No need, I can just use the Floo Network."

"Alright, then. Be sure to pack everything you'll need for school before you go."

"I will."

"I'll pick up your books once your list arrives and have your things sent up to your dormitory."

This gave Harry pause. He'd always just purchased his own school supplies using his inheritance money from his parents. The Dursleys had certainly never concerned themselves with whether or not Harry was prepared for the school year ahead. "Oh, you don't have to do that, Uncle, I can get them."

Something like surprise flashed across Uncle Severus's face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "I am your guardian, I will get your school supplies."

It was a huge surprise to Harry that he suddenly felt like someone was actually taking care of him for the first time in his life, that he hadn't just been left to his own devices to figure everything out for himself. This certainly wasn't a feeling he would have ever expected from a conversation with his uncle. He didn't even know what to say, so simply resigned to saying, "Thank you, Uncle."

Uncle Severus nodded. "Give my best to the Weasleys."

Harry struggled down the stairs under the weight of his newly repacked trunk, not wanting to bother his uncle again to ask for his help. But he managed, hauling his belongings down from his room and stopping in front of the fireplace.

The Floo Network was a magical form of transportation that connected many fireplaces in the Wizarding World. One simply had to enter one fireplace, vocalize their destination, and they'd emerge in the fireplace of their choice. Harry grabbed a handful of the Floo powder witting on the mantle, pulled his trunk behind him into the fireplace, and said, "The Burrow." And as he dropped the powder, he was transported from his uncle's dark, dreary sitting room to a much warmer one, filled with natural light and some actual color.

The Weasley home, or, the Burrow, as it was called, was an architectural marvel. As the family of nine gradually expanded, so did the house, vertically, in a haphazard manner. The furniture had also been acquired on a needed basis, and, as a result, almost none of it matched. And, most importantly it was the most homey home Harry had ever been in.

His journey complete, Harry stepped out of the fireplace, taking care not to get soot on the colorful, but faded, sitting room rug. "Hello?" he called out as he wandered into the kitchen where the delicious scents of Mrs. Weasley's cooking hung in the air.

"Is that you, Harry dear?" said Mrs. Weasley as she suddenly appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. She was a short woman, slightly plump, with eyes that could go from warm and inviting to stern in an instant, a byproduct of her years of parenting her seven children. Like everyone in the Weasley family, her hair was a vibrant red, though hers was curlier than most.

"It's me, Mrs. Weasley," Harry confirmed as Mrs. Weasley wrapped him up in a crushing hug. The first hug he'd had in months, he realized. "Thank you for inviting me to stay for a bit."

Mrs. Weasley waved a hand dismissively. "You're welcome any time, Harry, absolutely any time. I wouldn't hear of letting the Summer go by without having you stay over. I'll bet you're hungry, you look entirely too thin! Dinner will be ready in just a bit, why don't you go and find the others?"

Harry smiled at the joy of being fussed over, something that only Mrs. Weasley ever did for him. He hadn't had the opportunity to go off in search of the house's other residents, however, when he heard voices calling down from the stairs above them.

"Is that Harry?" said Ginny Weasley, the youngest Weasley child and the only daughter.

"Oh good, he got my letter," said Ron.

"Harry's here? Wicked," said Fred Weasley, one of Ron's older brothers, a seventh year this year.

"Now we can finally get a decent game of Quidditch going," said George Weasley, Fred's twin.

"Harry!" Hermione cried out as she came running down the stairs to pull Harry into his second hug of the day. "I'm so glad you made it, I just can't believe the Summer you've been having, it's outrageous!"

Before Harry knew it, the Weasley children had joined them downstairs and he found himself surrounded by an outpouring of love and a sense of being wanted And it wasn't long before Mr. Weasley walked through the door, home from his job working for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department at the Ministry.

"Hello, family!" Mr. Weasley called out with a wave as he went to give his wife a kiss. "Ah, Harry! Are you here to spend the rest of the Summer with us?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry said with a grin.

"Good! I'm glad you seem to still be in one piece. That was a nasty business, that dementor attack. I don't know where they got off, charging you with unauthorized underaged magic like that. It seems like the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been making a lot of strange decisions as of late."

"They certainly have," Mrs. Weasley agreed. "I don't know where they get off throwing charges around like they have been over the past few months."

"There have been other strange cases lately?" Harry asked. Thinking back to his hearing, things did seem a little strange. There was quite a large group present for a simple case of underaged wizardry, Dumbledore practically had to threaten the Minister to get them to drop the charges, and that one woman had almost seemed personally offended at the Minister's decision.

"A few," Mr. Weasley confirmed. "But it's nothing you need to worry about, Harry. They dropped your charges, and that's what matters." Harry nodded. "The strange thing is that they wouldn't allow me to attend your hearing."

Harry's ears perked up at that. "You tried to attend my hearing, Sir?"

"I thought you could use a friendly face," Mr. Weasley said with a wink. "I work in the building too, you know. Different floor, of course, but I thought I might take an elevator over to see you. But they wouldn't allow it." He shrugged. "Just odd policies all around coming from that department as of late."

While this certainly was strange news, Harry mostly found himself feeling grateful that Mr. Weasley was thinking of him during one of the most difficult days of his life. "Thank you for trying, Sir."

Mr. Weasley smiled warmly. "It would have been my pleasure to offer my support, Harry." He placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder for emphasis.

After dinner, Harry finally had an opportunity to speak with Ron and Hermione alone upstairs in Ron's room. It was there that he finally told them about the strange man who had cornered him right before his hearing. He told them how the man claimed to be in disguise because he thought that Harry would fear him if he saw his true face. He told them about how the man thought he was in danger and that the dementors had been specifically sent to attack him. He told them about how the man seemed to have known about him his whole life, even if they'd never met. And, lastly, he showed them the locket the man had given him, and the note that had been tucked inside.

"Is that… the symbol of Salazar Slytherin?" Hermione asked as she took a closer look at the locket.

"That's Slytherin's symbol, alright," Ron confirmed. "It looks old, too, really old. What was this bloke doing with something like this?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "But check out the note, it was written by my mother."

Hermione paused her inspection of the locket. "Your mother? Are you sure, Harry? I understand that it's quite a coincidence, but-"

"I confirmed it," Harry said. "I compared the handwriting to some letters I found in Uncle Severus's house. He caught me looking at them, actually, he was pretty upset about it."

"Yikes," Ron said with a wince. Most students at Hogwarts were terrified of getting on Professor Snape's bad side.

"So, if your mother wrote the note," Hermione said, thinking through the implications out loud. "Then you're the 'Harry' she mentioned, but then… the man who gave you this note has to be 'T.'"

Harry shrugged. "He could be."

"Think about it," Hermione insisted. "I mean it would make sense that that's why he had the note in the first place, because it was addressed to him. But he also said that he never thought he'd see you in person, right? And in the note your Mum says that she's reaching out to him for the last time, meaning she never thought she'd see or hear from him again."

"Wow, you're right, Hermione," Harry said. Hermione beamed.

"But if he's such a great guy, why wouldn't he be allowed to see you? And why would you be afraid of him if you saw who he really was?" asked Ron. "I don't trust the guy."

"I'm not entirely sure if I do either," Harry admitted. "He did seem very happy to finally meet me, though." He could still remember the way the man's eyes lit up as he took a moment to really look at him. "I wish we had more to go on."

"Well, he said he'd be in touch soon, right?" Hermione pointed out. "Maybe we'll find out more then."

"Up! Everyone up!"

Harry awoke in the middle of the night to the sounds of people yelling from down below. About a week had passed since he arrived at the Burrow, and so far it had been a very lovely and peaceful visit. But it seemed that that was all about to change.

"What?" Ron muttered from the bed next to his as he slowly sat up. Harry rubbed his eyes and looked out the window, where he could just make out a few strange dark shadows flying around through the night sky. His blood went cold.

"Let's go," Harry said urgently as he pulled back Ron's covers and grabbed his wand.

"Everyone up! Everyone downstairs!" It was Mrs. Weasley.

Ron finally seemed to catch on that something was wrong as he shot out of bed and followed Harry out to the landing and peered over the rail. Mr. Weasley was down below, a housecoat tied around his waist and slippers on his feet, as he kissed his wife and ran out into the night. Fear shown in Mrs. Weasley's eyes as she turned around and saw them looking down at her.

"Come quickly," she urged them, beckoning them down with her hands. "Everyone to the cellar."

"What's going on?" Ginny asked as she and Hermione came up behind them.

Harry placed a hand on each of their backs and guided them toward the stairs. They all ran down, Fred and George following close behind them.

"To the cellar!" Mrs. Weasley repeated. Everyone else followed her instructions, but Harry ran for the door.

"Harry?" Hermione called after him.

"I'll be back!" Harry said as he ran outside.

The dementors were just as menacing as he remembered them from his encounter weeks ago, even more so grouped together as they now were. Harry estimated that about five had wandered to the Weasley property, and were now swooping around overhead in large arks. A wave of despair washed over Harry as soon as he stepped out, the air as cold as a Winter night. Mr. Weasley was in the middle of it all, clutching his wand tightly in his hand and sending up a shield to block the nasty beasts whenever one dared to fly low enough.

"Behind you!" Harry shouted as one tried to sneak up on Mr. Weasley in a very un-sportsmanlike manner. Mr. Weasley turned quickly at Harry's warning and blocked the dementor just in time, sending it back into the sky. Harry ran out to meet Mr. Weasley and guard his back.

For what felt like an eternity, Harry and Mr. Weasley stood back-to-back, producing shields to block dementors as they approached. Harry could feel the efforts draining him until he barely felt like he could lift his wand arm. "Alright back there, Harry?" Mr. Weasley called.

"Hanging in there," Harry lied. He couldn't keep this up much longer. With a deep breath, he tried to clear his mind, and, with every ounce of energy he had left, he pointed his wand at the sky and said, "Expecto patronum!" Miraculously, the white stag burst forth from his wand, chasing away every last dementor. Warmth settled over the garden like a soft blanket.

Mr. Weasley cheered. "That's how it's done! Well done, Harry! Well done!" But Harry, having been drained by the joy devouring dementors, collapsed. Mr. Weasley hastily grabbed for him, catching him before he hit the ground, and managed to help him limp into the house before he blacked out.