Harry Potter Book 7

~Chapter One~

The Emergency

The sinister crescent-shaped moon sat silent in the darkness amass the sea of dimming and twinkling stars that shone down on Privet Drive.

The air was hung with a frosty chill that was not associated with the cold of the eerily silent night.

There were no squares of light shining through the windows of the moonlight-bathed houses of the suburban street, houses as icy and silent as the night itself.

The exception was number four, where an upstairs window was illuminated by an orange glow.

Harry Potter was lying on his bed in that very room behind the only lit window on the entire street.

There was a dead weight in his stomach that had been there from since the end of term at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.

Harry stopped gazing miserably at the ceiling and looked around his room.

It was as untidy as it had been almost a year ago, when Harry had been lying in his bed just like he was now and had been as equally miserable as he was at the present.

The floor was strewn with spell books and pages from various recent editions of a newspaper; the Daily Prophet, littered with robes, jeans and shirts and covered with quills and pieces of parchment that had been apparently scrawled and scribbled upon, then tossed untidily onto the floor.

The pages of the most recent Daily Prophet, lay jumbled at the foot of his bed. The headlines of the front page read:

CONCERNS OVER THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

Growing concern continues to increase with the recent death of the famous and most greatest wizard of all time, Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore, most recent and deceased headmaster of Hogwarts school.

A harassed Rufus Scrimgeour was forced to make a statement today to the wizarding community to reassure them that the Ministry still stands a good chance of stopping You-Know-Who from taking over, despite the devastating blow of the loss of Dumbledore, the only person You-Know-Who ever feared as rumoured, and urges the community to remain calm, but alert.

Critics remain sceptical that the Ministry has enough power to bring You-Know-Who and his supporters to justice and are resting their hopes on the Boy Who Lived; Harry Potter, the person who is the last chance of stopping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named once and for all and may be "The Chosen One", destined to destroy You-Know-Who.

Others declare that with Dumbledore's death at the hands of the Death Eaters, there is nothing to stop You-Know-Who from taking over now and that the world is doomed to a life under the reign You-Know-Who and his supporters. Among these people is self-proclaimed Seer, Sibyll Trelawney, a Divination teacher at Hogwarts who declares that "Judgement Day" is nearing and that the entire earth is destined to a horrific fate.

"While I was mourning in my tower, the fates sought out and contacted me through a vision and revealed the startling and terrible future of humankind! I was presented with a scene of terror and despair; of grim death and pain; of sorrow and wailing! We are faced with the catastrophic inevitable that is our unavoidable doom!" Professor Trelawney told a Prophet reporter hysterically.

Meanwhile, there has been no sign of Harry Potter though it has been confirmed that the Ministry has selected a handful of elite Aurors to guard his place of residence in the Summer holidays, number four, Privet Drive of Little Whinging.

His new guardian, temporary headmistress of Hogwarts after the death of Dumbledore, Minerva McGonall has forbidden reporters to approach the house for fear out of an attempted murder by You-Know-Who.

"Harry has already suffered enough hardship and tragedy as it already is and he does not need reporters to jeopardize his already perilous situation. You can be sure that Harry is now on top of You-Know-Who's hit list and he certainly will be looking for any opportunity possible to cross Harry off that list. We must do all we can to protect Harry from suffering at the hands of You-Know-Who," the headmistress explained to reporters sternly.

The article of another page read:

SEVERUS SNAPE STILL AT LARGE

Severus Snape, a key Death Eater, a previous teacher at Hogwarts school and the person responsible for Dumbledore's murder is still at large the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.

The Ministry and Aurors are currently still working around the clock to locate the most-wanted Death Eater and arrest him. Anyone who may have seen him recently or have any leads on his whereabouts are urged to come forward.

"We are doing all we can to track down Snape, but his past records have indicated he will be extremely hard to catch and we can only be successful with the cooperation of the public," said Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror office. "If you see this man, do not approach him on any account as he his extremely and capably dangerous and alert the Auror office at once."

Snape was last seen fleeing from Hogwarts after reportedly having murdered Albus Dumbledore and escaping with a number of other Death Eaters that had managed breached the school's security and enter the building (cont. page 3 column 1)

On top of the mess of newspapers laid a letter in neat, slanting letters written on a piece of parchment.

Dear Harry,

On the thirty-first of July, a number of Aurors and I will be calling at your place of residence, number four, Privet Drive, Little Whining, to escort you safely to The Burrow where Mrs. Weasley has invited you to stay for as long as you see fit. Please be ready and packed by eight-thirty pm on the night so that you may be escorted without hassle or delay.

Hoping to see you soon and wishing you a happy birthday,

R. Lupin

Harry gazed mournfully at his owl, Hedwig. She was a magnificent snowy-white and was presently looking back at him with unblinking amber eyes, sitting in her cage.

Since he had arrived back at the Dursley's house, he had been thinking, planning and grieving a lot.

Still, after weeks, the pain of Dumbledore's death was still fresh and raw within him. He felt abandoned and alone, knowing he would never see that calm, peaceful face, hear his wise and comforting words ever again he had grown so accustomed to and had taken for granted.

Dumbledore would never be there to protect and watch over him again. He was gone. Gone as Harry would have never believed. But deep inside him, Harry knew that Dumbledore had left and would not come back again.

And so, he had turned his mind to the present, to the future. He knew what he had to do.

Long ago, he had accepted that this was his path and he would have to travel it. He was determined to reach the end, where he might finally find all of Voldemort's Horcruxes and destroy them all. And maybe, he could destroy Lord Voldemort himself.

He knew now that there would be no one to guide him. No Dumbledore to answer his questions and show him the way. No Sirius to comfort and encourage him; to protect him.

But then, there was someone else. Someone he had forgotten.

No, some people. Who still cared for him. Who would stand beside him no matter how grave things became. They would always be there to support and help him.

And as this thought occurred, a memory, voices, floated into his head.

("We're coming with you," Ron said.)

("You said to us once before," Hermione said quietly, "that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?")

("I knew you would never be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much," Ginny said.)

Yes. Ron, Hermione and Ginny would be there to support him through the dark times that lay ahead of him. What he was afraid of most was that they might be killed fighting beside him or saving him. He had already lost the closest thing to a parent he had ever had and his greatest protector and a wise friend. What if he lost his best friends too?

Harry reached inside his pocket and drew out a heavy locket marked with a serpentine "S". The fake Horcrux he now carried with him always in his pocket which he and Dumbledore had managed to steal from Voldemort.

He opened it and stared at the message inside. The night that they had managed to steal the Horcrux, the night that Snape betrayed them, he had seen the message, but had given very little thought to it. Now, however, the initials that was the only link to this mysterious person, R. A. B. seemed strangely familiar to Harry. He felt like he ought to know who R. A. B. was, but that was impossible...

Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Harry slipped the locket back into his pocket and sighed.

As he glanced around his room, his eyes passed his alarm clock and with a jolt of surprise, he saw that it was eight twenty-two already. With a sudden flash of panic, he suddenly remembered he had entirely forgotten to tell the Dursleys about the arrival of Lupin and the Aurors at the house in seven minutes time.

He jumped off his bed as if though it had been electrocuted and ran to the door. Turning the handle and flinging it open, he sprinted across the landing and down the stairs.

His uncle looked up from the game show he was watching and spared Harry one indifferent glance before grunting and returning to the television as Harry came skidding into the living room.

Aunt Petunia merely sniffed in a disapproving sort of way, but did not make any comment or do anything else to suggest that her nephew had just entered the room.

Harry's cousin Dudley, on the other hand, gave Harry a look of pure horror and stood up so fast that he tripped over his own feet and fell to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, he waddled out of the room as fast as his bulk permitted him, throwing a terrified glance at Harry before he disappeared through the doorway within a remarkable time for his standard.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"What is it, boy?" his uncle grunted.

"It's just...well..." Harry found it difficult to explain the situation to his uncle who did not tolerate magic and feared it above all else.

"What is it?" Aunt Petunia snapped, turning her attention from the television to Harry who was at a loss of what to say.

"Well, it's my birthday today. And I turn seventeen."

"So?" his aunt and uncle said together.

"You-you remember the person who came last year?" Harry asked tentatively as he knew that it would likely be a touchy subject as since they did not even accept the word "magic" being mentioned.

His uncle turned a nasty shade of purple whereas Aunt Petunia's face reddened.

"What about him?" Uncle Vernon snarled.

"Well, remember he said that I come of age when I turn seventeen-"Harry heard his uncle mutter, "Absurd," but continued on. "-I can leave the house and I don't have to return."

There was a long silence in which his aunt and uncle stared in a strange manner at him and which he looked uncertainly back. At last, Harry decided to break the awkwardness.

"W-well?" he stammered.

He watched his aunt and uncle exchange glances.

"Does this mean we never have to see you?" his aunt demanded suddenly.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"Ever again?" Uncle Vernon asked with a strange glitter in his eye.

"Ever again," Harry echoed nervously.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia exchanged another glance before both turned back to the television with the same expression they had when Harry had came into the room.

"Fine," his uncle said. "You leave, then."

Harry was taken aback at his uncle's lack of surprise and abrupt acceptance. It was as if though it were nothing out of the ordinary.

He opened his mouth again. But before he could say another word, the doorbell rang.

Harry wheeled around, his heart beating wildly. They were here. And he still had not told the Dursleys.

"Who the ruddy hell is calling at this hour?" he heard his uncle bark.

Harry turned quickly around to face Uncle Vernon once again.

"They're wizards," Harry explained. "They're here to take me away so I can go back and live in my world. The wizarding world."

An extremely shocked silence greeted the end of Harry's statement.

"What?!" his uncle and aunt said together in tones of incredulity.

The doorbell rang again. A very familiar voice floated into the living room from outside. "Harry?"

"You invited people-people like you into our house?" his uncle hissed, his voice suppressed with outrage. Harry could see his uncle's palms twitching as if though there was nothing he desired more than to place them around Harry's throat.

Another deep, familiar voice to Harry floated to them from right outside the door. "It would be best if we be as quick as possible. We can explain later. Alohomora!"

Harry and the two Dursleys heard the lock of the front door click and the unmistakable creak of the door swinging open.

Uncle Vernon sat there, frozen, with a look mixed anger and fear on his face while Aunt Petunia simply looked shocked and frightened.

Harry turned around. He heard a voice, louder this time say reproachfully, "Really, Kingsley. We can't just break into their home. Harry's relatives, muggles, live here!"

"The statute of secrecy doesn't matter now," Harry heard the deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt reply in a low tone. "We have to get Potter out of here as soon as possible."

Then, a group of people emerged from the hallway into the living room where Harry was standing, rooted to the spot and the Dursleys were gazing at them in stunned disbelief.

At the front of the group was Remus Lupin, one of Harry's ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher with his wand in his hand. Standing behind him to the left was a tall, black man with a wand in his hand too; Kingsley Shacklebolt, an excellent Auror and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. There were four other people and Harry did not recognize any of them, but he guessed they were the other Aurors sent to escort him. The fourth of the Aurors he did not recognize was a witch with long, waist-length black hair.

"Ah, Harry," Lupin said, offering his wandless hand. "It's good to see you again."

"Thanks," Harry said, shaking Lupin's hand. He waved to Kingsley too and Kingsley nodded back at him.

"And this must be your aunt and uncle," Lupin said pleasantly glancing at the silent and terrified couple sitting on the couch behind Harry, their game show quite forgotten.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both too."

Neither Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia returned the compliment, but simply continued to gaze at them, apparently at a loss of words.

"I would explain everything now, but I'm afraid it cannot be so, for the current situation is dangerous and it would be best if we could get Harry to a safe place as soon as possible," Lupin addressed the dumbfounded Dursleys. "After we are entirely sure of Harry's safety, we can discuss what will happen between him and you in the future."

Uncle Vernon did not reply, but Lupin seemed to require no answer.

"Very well, then. Harry, is your trunk packed and ready?" Lupin asked.

"Er-well, the truth is," Harry said uncomfortably, but Lupin cut across him.

"I see," Lupin said lightly. He turned to one of the Aurors. "I daresay, would you mind?..."

The Auror nodded his head and disappeared up the stairs to Harry's room.

"Right," Lupin said cheerily. "Well, we should be ready to leave soon."

Harry asked, "How are we going to get to..."

"...The Burrow?" Lupin finished the sentence for him. "We have a Portkey ready to take you there. Grimshaw's got it."

One of the Aurors with a scar across his cheek and a tough-looking face raised a hand and nodded curtly.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Lupin asked concernedly, looking at Harry closely.

"Fine, thanks," Harry mumbled, not meeting Lupin's eyes and feeling a little embarrassed. "Couldn't we Apparate to The Burrow?"

"We could, but using a Portkey is much safer and convenient for our current purpose," Lupin replied and Harry nodded.

Lupin looked like he was about to say something else, but before he could do so, the Auror who went upstairs returned carrying Harry's suitcase in a hand and Hedwig's cage under an arm.

"Good," Lupin said, looking up. "We're ready to leave now. Williamson will leave first with your luggage."

The Auror carrying Harry's trunk and cage nodded and with a loud crack, was gone.

Aunt Petunia screamed and Uncle Vernon swore.

Lupin turned to them.

"After I escort Harry to The Burrow, I will return to discuss matters that concern him with you, do you understand?"

Vernon looked furiously at Lupin at being addressed in such a commanding manner, but was apparently too intimidated by the presence of many wizards and merely nodded.

Lupin hesitated, then turned to Harry.

"Since this is most likely the last time you will ever see you uncle and aunt again, I suggest now would be a good time to exchange your goodbyes."

Harry looked at Uncle Vernon.

"Well then...goodbye..." Uncle Vernon said finally, giving Harry a last and dismissive nod.

"Bye," Harry replied and turned towards the hallway. Lupin gave a final nod to the Dursleys before turning too.

At that precise moment, there was a loud crash from upstairs and the scream of Dudley.

Harry looked at the ceiling, his heart beating fast in his chest. Lupin's face turned marble white.

Panic whirling in his mind, he could here a commotion going on upstairs...the sound of voices muffled by the ceiling...it couldn't be...not here in Privet Drive...

"Harry, follow Grimshaw, take the Portkey and go!" Lupin told him, raising his wand and holding it ready, pointing at the staircase that lead downstairs.

All the Aurors were drawing their wands too and Harry saw Kingsley tense.

Grimshaw grabbed Harry by the shoulder and started pushing him to the door with one hand, wand in the other.

The Dursleys were as white as Lupin, gazing up fearfully at the ceiling too, their mouths agape in terror.

As Harry continued to be pushed roughly towards the door, he turned.

"But-"

"Go!" Lupin said fiercely.

The next thing he knew, Grimshaw had opened the front door and stepped outside. The black-haired witch shoved Harry outside after Grimshaw before exiting herself, followed by another Auror.

Grimshaw turned around to face Harry, drawing an empty glass phial from his pocket.

"Are you ready?" he asked Harry briskly and Harry nodded.

But as he held the phial out for Harry to take, a jet of scarlet light hit him squarely in the back.

Grimshaw let out a mixed cry of surprise and pain and was blasted forwards. He fell face-first onto the ground and was motionless, his eyes closed.

Harry let out a gasp of horror.

The spell had been cast by a hooded figure who was masked and black-cloaked, gleaming eyes shining through the eye holes of the mask. The figure had its wand out and was pointing at the spot where Grimshaw had been standing a moment before.

In the swish of a cloak, two more Death Eaters had Apparated on either side of the first one, wands drawn too and pointing directly at Harry.

As Harry plunged his hand into his robes, he saw out of the corner of his eye the witch on his right raise her wand.

She fired a cursed at one of the Death Eaters but they deflected it by slashing at it so that it ricocheted off their wand and hit one of the shrubs on the Dursleys' lawn which burst into flame.

"Avada Kedavra!" the Death Eater in the middle cried in a harsh woman's voice that Harry recognized with a stab of hatred.

Harry flung himself forwards onto the grass of the Dursleys' lawn in time and the blast of green light soared over his head and hit the Dursleys' house. There was a loud bang followed by an explosion of bits of splintered wood and paint.

Harry raised his head a few inches to see the two Aurors battling with two of the Death Eaters.

However, the middle one with the harsh woman's voice, stepped forward, away from the fight, raised a hand and tore her mask off.

An arrogant sneer, heavy-lidded eyes, it was Bellatrix Lestrange; Sirius's killer.

Harry pushed himself to his feet, hatred throbbing in his head and raised his wand just as Bellatrix yelled, "Mafiola!"

As Harry opened his mouth, he was suddenly knocked out of the way and then realized it was Lupin who had pushed him away.

Lupin deflected the spell that Bellatrix cast and turned to Harry.

"Grimshaw has the Portkey. Grab it and go, Harry!" he shouted and then ducked a jet of green light Bellatrix had shot at him.

Harry had no choice. He quickly turned to the lifeless body of Grimshaw lying on the lawn and kneeled down, ignoring the flashes, jets of light and Bellatrix's scream of frustration as Lupin stood in the way of her preventing Harry from escaping.

Grimshaw still had the phial clutched in his hand. Harry prised it out of his grip.

At once, he felt the familiar sensation of being lifted off his feet and sent hurtling forwards in a rush of blurred colour, the wind howling wildly in his ears.