Harry Potter and The Tomb of Hogwarts

Harry Potter and

The Tomb of Hogwarts

Chapter 1

Grief and Solitude

The weather in Surry is always nice and sunny during the summer. So when it started raining in the second week of July, it was understandable that many of the residents on Privet Drive were unhappy. Some much more than others.

Vernon Dursley arrived home at number four, Privet Drive nearly two hours late from work. From the moment he walked into the house, he began to fuss about how bad the traffic was.

His wife, Petunia, was no happier. She loved this time of year, as she was able to work in her garden and, what was more important, she could eavesdrop for any gossip.

Their son Dudley was just a little less unhappy, as he did have his video games to play with. But the weather had stopped him from going out with his friends to smoke and harass any kids having the misfortune to walk across his path.

There was, however, one young man at number four, Privet Drive who could not have cared less about the weather. Harry Potter lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and smiled for the first time in days. He was listening to the raindrops tapping on the roof and couldn't help but let a small grin cross his face. He thought about how his Aunt, Uncle, and cousin would be so unhappy. If he was going to be miserable, at least they were too.

He had been depressed ever since he left the King's Cross Station. His friends from school had seen him off, and now he was stuck with the Dursleys for the next two months.

Harry Potter was a tall lanky young man, though puberty had finally begun to assert itself over the past year. He began to notice a real change in his voice, his muscles were more tone and shapely, and he'd grown more than half a foot, something that had eluded him in past years. It was only when he got back home and got into bed that he'd realized just how much he had grown. He also noticed that his hair had grown a bit longer too, and he rather liked it. He had even considered growing it into a ponytail.

Harry had spent only one day home before he was ready to go back to Hogwarts. His only reprieve was the prospect of going to The Burrow where the Weasleys' live. Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend, had promised Harry that he'd do whatever it took to rescue Harry as soon as possible.

Hermione Granger, his other best friend at Hogwarts, went on a trip with her parents to the United States, so going to her place was out of the question. Hermione was always going on some trip during the holidays.

So, while Ron was still at home with his family and Hermione was off in the United States, Harry's was stuck spending at least part of the summer at the home of the Dursleys.

Harry wasn't the only one unhappy about him having to stay at Privet Drive. His Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Cousin Dudley were never happy about having Harry stay with them. But they had agreed to take Harry in after he was orphaned as a baby, and now they were stuck with him.

Since arriving back at Privet Drive, Harry had been spending most of his time in his room. He only came out of his room to use the bathroom or to get something to eat. After what had happened the past year at school, he didn't feel particularly social, especially with the Dursleys. This was fine with them as it meant they had fewer reminders that Harry was there.

There had been some improvements to his daily life back home. Before Harry left King's Cross, several members of the Order of the Phoenix had spoken to the Dursleys. They told Uncle Vernon specifically that they expected a positive report from Harry every few days, and if he seemed unhappy, they would drop by for a visit. Since then, the Dursleys had felt it best to simply ignore Harry whenever possible.

In previous years, if Harry had so much as mentioned magic, the entire family would flinch, Uncle Vernon would yell at Harry before sending him to his room. Now, they just ignored him completely.

When Harry got home, Uncle Vernon had a very quick talk with Harry.

"Listen here boy," he started. "I want to make sure we are clear on the rules this summer."

Harry just stared at the ground. He wasn't much in the mood for a lecture.

"Are you listening to me boy?" Vernon asked.

Harry just nodded.

"I want things to be clear. I don't want you getting in our way. The only time I want to see you when it's time to eat. I expect you home no later than seven each night, and after dinner, you'll be spending the rest of the evening in your room. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied somberly.

"You obey the rules and tell your friends that we are treating you well and..." Uncle Vernon seemed disgusted with himself, and his voice seemed to give out, but he continued on. "And you can read those ruddy books of yours inside your room."

"You can let that stupid bird of your out each night, but I don't want to see any owls near my house during the day. And I don't want you bringing any of those things out of your room. Break any of the rules and I'll boot you out of this house before you can blink an eye."

His voice had risen so that Harry was sure the entire block had heard him. After a moment, he seemed to calm down a bit.

"Are we clear, boy?" he finally asked.

"Yes sir," Harry replied. "I don't say or do anything outside of my room."

"Very good. Now go to your room. I don't expect dinner will be ready for at least an hour. I better not see or hear from you before then. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Harry repeated. He had gone up to his room that night, crawled into bed, and had not come out of his room except to eat or use the bathroom.

None of the Dursleys had tried get into Harry's room. When it was time to eat, Aunt Petunia would just knock on the door and tell him to come down to eat. This was usually the most he spoke to the Dursleys during the day. He would just stay in his room, read his schoolbooks or do homework, and he was finally able to get the Daily Prophet delivered to him without worrying about getting caught.

So Harry lay on his bed reading the front page of the Daily Prophet. Harry needn't bother reading the entire paper. Instead, he just quickly looked over the front page to see if there would be any news of Voldemort. Today there was another big article talking about Voldemort and, to Harry's dismay, he was mentioned.

*Silent Roar of You-Know-Who

By Skeeter Steelhead

"He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named has not been seen or heard from in over a week since the fight with Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and the young Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. There have been, however, two more sightings of Death Eaters in lower London. Yesterday, several Muggles reported seeing two figures in robes and hoods waving sticks and making other muggles floating in mid-air. A prominent Wizarding family also reported seeing a pair of Death Eaters levitating a group of Muggles down an alley just two blocks east of The Leaky Cauldron. Several other reported sightings of the Dark Mark have been made throughout Europe. Thus far, authorities have refused to comment of the escalading signs of Death Eater activities.

*

Harry could not read any more. It had been the same story every day now and he was getting tired of it. He had learned he was a wizard 5 years ago and began going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This was his first taste of fame, and it did not agree with him. But by the end of his first year, things had calmed down and he was able to get along with nothing more than the random stare from the passing Witch or Wizard.

Then, two years ago, the Daily Prophet began to write about Harry, and as time went on, stories about Harry seemed to get increasingly worse, to the point where the Prophet began attacking him every chance they got. Of course, much of this was due to pressure from the Ministry of Magic. Harry had been telling everyone that Voldemort had returned, and the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had made a big show of telling everyone that Voldemort had not returned and that Harry was making up stories to get attention. Of course, all Harry wanted was to be left alone, but that was not going to happen.

But now that was all over. Everything had changed since Harry had gone to the Ministry of Magic two weeks ago. Lord Voldemort had sent his Death Eaters to set a trap for Harry. He'd fallen for it, and when everything had settled, several Death Eaters were arrested and sent to Azkaban and Fudge had personally seen Voldemort and Dumbledore fighting inside the Ministry. Since then, the Prophet had been writing all about Dumbledore, Voldemort, and of course, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.

What bothered Harry most was all the publicity the Prophet was giving him, making him out as some kind of hero for telling the world that Voldemort was back. Harry felt nothing like a hero. How could he be a hero when he was responsible for his godfather's death?

Every one of Harry's friends had told him not to blame himself. They kept telling him that Sirius's death wasn't his fault. Nonetheless, Harry could not help punishing himself. He felt so stupid for falling for that trap.

Harry did not accept Sirius's death at first. It was only after Professor Dumbledore told Harry that Sirius was in fact dead that Harry began to accept that he would never see his godfather again. Even still, it was difficult to accept. Twice before leaving Hogwarts Harry had tried to find any way to contact Sirius, but to no avail.

Now that he was back at Privet Drive, it was becoming painfully clear that he would never see Sirius again. So it really felt right that even in the middle of summer it should be raining, as it was today. It fit Harry's mood, and it was comforting in some odd way to know that other people out there today would be as miserable as he was.

Harry had been back from school for four days now and the Dursleys were already beginning to become annoying. He had always wished that they would just let him be, but it was uncomfortable to be completely ignored. Between that and thinking about all the people he had lost; Sirius, his Mum and Dad, and even Cedric Diggory, another Hogwarts student Harry had seen killed just over a year ago; rest and relaxation was not something he was getting much of.

The only thing he had to look forward to was the letters he received from Ron and Hermione. They had each sent a couple of letters, each one telling Harry what they were up to. He replied to both of them, saying that things were going well, and that he was looking forward to seeing them later in the summer.

He had just begun to think about what he and Ron would do at the Burrow when there came a small tapping at the window. Harry sat up and looked over at the ledge.

There stood a large black owl. Harry opened the window and let the owl inside. Immediately the owl hopped inside and shuddered its feathers, spraying a blast of water all over Harry, who quickly ran to his closet and grabbed a clean towel. He quickly dried himself off and then ran to dry the owl as well.

As soon as it was dry he removed the small parcel tied to its leg and led it over to Hedwig's cage to give it some food and water while he read. Harry hoped that Hedwig would not get mad at him for letting a strange owl use her cage to eat and drink. Hedwig was always very protective of her cage and was always jealous whenever Harry had used other owls in the past. Luckily, Hedwig was on her way to the Burrow to give Ron Harry's latest letter and would not be back for at least a day or two, so her cage was empty right now

As the black owl began to eat, Harry opened the note and read.

*Dear Harry.

If you are reading this, then I am sorry to say that I have died. It pains me to think that I may not have had the chance to watch you grow up to be the man I know you are destined to become. There were so many things I had hoped to do with you, and I only hope that I was able to accomplish some of them before my death.

I want you to know that no matter what happens, I have always loved you as though you were my own son. I know that they were still alive, your parents would have been proud of the young man you have become, as I know I am. I have faith that you will make it through whatever comes your way, as you have already proven yourself against the odds. You have survived things that would have been the end of lesser men, and I couldn't be more proud. Never change and I expect you will become a wizard that legends are made of.

In case of my untimely demise, I have taken certain liberties in case something happens to me before you come of age. Very soon, you will be hearing from professor Dumbledore, and he will be taking you to my home. There he will go over my last will, and I can only hope that it is enough to help out.

Please remember that I will always love you, and I wish you all the happiness in the world. Take care Harry, and I wish you all the luck in the world.

Forever with you,

Sirius.

*

Harry read the letter three times, his face covered in tears. He had deeply cared for Sirius. He was the closest Harry had had to a real father figure. Of course, there was always Albus Dumbledore, but Dumbledore had his limits since he was Headmaster of Hogwarts. This meant that he had always had to keep his distance from Harry so that he did not seem to favor him over any of the other students. This, along with always seeming to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, usually meant that Dumbledore could not be there for Harry most of the time, and Harry understood.

Sirius, on the other hand, was more willing to break the rules, and was therefore easier to talk to than most other adults. Harry had truly begun to love his godfather.

Harry had not felt as bad about the death of his godfather as he did just then. The tears were flowing freely and Harry had no intention to wipe them from his face. For the first time, all he wanted to do was cry.

He cried for what seemed like an hour. It was only when he became too tired to cry that he heard a second owl knocking at his window. He shook his head, wiped the tears from his eyes, put down the letter, and opened the window again.

The second owl simply dropped a letter from his mouth, turned, and flew back out the window again. Harry closed the window and opened the letter quickly. It was even shorter than the first.

*Dear Harry

I will be coming to your house at nine o'clock A.M. on July 12th, and will be picking you up to bring you to your godfather's house in accordance with his wishes. I know you have many questions Harry, but please wait until tomorrow to ask. Everything will be explained to you then. I will see you soon.

Yours Most Truly,

*Albus Dumbledore.

He was shocked. He read the letter again. July the twelfth. That was tomorrow. He had hoped to get out of the Dursley house before the end of the summer holiday, but he had never imagined he might leave before the end of his first week back. Moreover, Dumbledore himself was coming to pick him up. This was incredible news.

Harry went to bed that night feeling better than he had in weeks. In less than twenty-four hours, he would be at Sirius' home, and maybe be able to see some of the members of the Order there.

The dream was always the same.

*Voldemort's Death Eaters had lured him to the Department of Mysteries. He, Hermione and Ron, along with three other Hogwarts students, had all gone there in an attempt to save Sirius from the Death Eaters, only to find that it had been a trap.

The Death Eaters had chased them throughout the Department of Mysteries, eventually trapping them inside an amphitheater like room surrounding a large, stone archway draped with a large veil in the center of the room.

When all looked lost, several members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived, including Sirius Black. A fight broke out and curses were sent everywhere. It seemed that the Death Eaters were winning when Dumbledore arrived, and, in a matter of seconds, the battle was over.

Only Sirius and Bellatrix Lestrange continued dueling.

Harry watched as Bellatrix sent a jet of red light over Sirius's head. Sirius began to laugh, taunting and mocking her, calling out, "Come on, you can do better than that."

Then, suddenly, a second spell had hit him dead center in the chest.

Time seemed to slow to a near halt. Sirius began to fall backwards, just as he had two weeks ago.

His eyes went from amusement to utter shock. His eyes were wide and completely dilated. But that's when things changed.

This time, while still falling in mid-air, Sirius turned his head and looked straight into Harry's eyes.

"Why did you do this to me Harry?" Sirius asked with a sad look on his face. "Why did you have to come here and get into trouble again? Why couldn't you have just listened to Hermione? Why do you always have to play the hero?"

Harry felt the tear of guilt grow in his gut. His eyes began to water, but Sirius continued.

"Dumbledore had told you to continue your Occlumency lessons? If you had worked harder on them, you wouldn't have fallen for their trap, and I would still be alive. How could you have fallen for such an obvious trap? And you think you can be an Auror? There must have been some kind of mistake. The prophecy should have been about Neville. I bet he would have gotten it right."

An overwhelming laughter began to fill the room. It was a high-pitched laughter that Harry had heard before. The high-pitched laughter of Lord Voldemort.

Harry turned to look at Lestrange. Only, Lestrange wasn't there. Instead, there stood a tall thin man with thin slits for eyes, a flat nose, and a look of absolute pleasure on his face. Then Harry saw two bodies lying at his feet. James and Lily Potter looked up at Harry with the expression of combined sadness and betrayal.

"This is all your doing," Voldemort laughed. "First your father dies to save your life, then your mother, and now your godfather. How many more lives will you give me before you finally realize, you cannot beat me. Nothing you can do will stop me. How many more will suffer and die before you give up?"

Hermione walked through the door at the top of the steps.

Again there was a sudden flash of green light, and Hermione fell over, dead.

Ron walked in behind her, and a second later, he was dead too.

Then the twins. Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley. Percy. Lupin. Hagrid. Dumbledore.

*

Harry woke with a scream. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest as though trying to get out.

He sat up and caught his breath. Slowly his heart rate began to slow to a normal pace. He was sweating profusely.

After a few minutes, Harry got out of bed, went to the bathroom, and cleaned himself up.

When he got back to bed, he lay there for more than an hour before finally slipping off back to sleep. The rest of his night went undisturbed.

Harry woke up the next morning at five thirty AM. He did not feel very well rested, but the moment he remembered that Dumbledore was coming to pick him up that day, he could not get back to sleep. By six thirty, Harry had taken a shower, changed, and headed down to the kitchen for breakfast.

When he walked through the kitchen door he was immediately hit with the smell of brewed coffee. He knew this meant that Aunt Petunia was getting everything ready for Uncle Vernon, but that was fine with Harry, because he still had to tell them that he would be going with Dumbledore to Sirius' house.

He fixed himself a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. He made sure not to get into Aunt Petunia's way, as she would be home when Dumbledore arrived. While waiting for Vernon to come downstairs, Harry went out and got the newspaper, hoping that if Uncle Vernon had his paper first thing in the morning, he would be in a better mood.

Half an hour passed before Vernon came down for breakfast. Harry waited until he had his cup of coffee and cantaloupe half. He offered his Uncle the paper. Vernon's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What do you want boy?" Vernon asked.

"Well sir," Harry began, "The Headmaster from my school would like to come by today to pick me up and take me to my godfather's house."

"Dumbledore is coming here?" cried Petunia. She drew her hands to her mouth the moment she said it.

Harry looked at her amazed for a moment, but recovered quickly. Vernon, on the other hand, was speechless. After half a minute he finally spoke.

He whipped around on Harry and spoke in the soft controlled voice that was meant to intimidate people. Of course, Harry had looked Voldemort in the eyes, so his Uncle was no challenge. However, Harry did not want his Uncle to know that just now, so he cowered a few inches back as his Uncle spoke.

"What do you mean; your Headmaster is coming here? I told you before boy, I don't want your kind in my house. The last time you had one of your people here I had to spend the next two days cleaning up after them."

"I'm sorry about Mr. Weasley, but he didn't realize that you would have the fireplace boarded up. He is not used to mug... err, normal ways of doing things. I am sure that Professor Dumbledore will use the front door."

Harry knew that when a Muggle-born witch or wizard got their letter about going to Hogwarts, it was usually Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore that informed the new wizard or witch and their families about Hogwarts, magic, and how to proceed with life from then on. This meant that Dumbledore had to be pretty familiar with Muggle ways. This got Harry wondering how Dumbledore would look when he came to approach those future Hogwarts students.

Harry shook himself out of it. "I'm sorry. What did you say Aunt Petunia?" he asked.

"I asked you why Dumbledore is coming to our house," Petunia replied.

Harry noticed that his Aunt and Uncle both flinched at the name of his Headmaster the same way most people in the wizarding world did when they heard the name of Lord Voldemort.

"I think he is going to take me to Sirius' house. I'm not sure exactly why, but I got the letters last night and all it said was that he was going to be here at nine this morning.

"NINE THIS MORNING?" shouted Vernon. "You expect us to just welcome a stranger into our house with only two hours notice?"

"Aunt Petunia knows him. At least I think she does, don't you Aunt Petunia?"

Both Harry and Vernon looked over at Petunia. It was written in her face. Wide-eyed and pale white, it was immediately obvious that she did in fact know Dumbledore, but Harry was not sure how he even knew this. Then he realized that she spoke his name just a few moments before.

"Is this true Petunia? Do you know this, this Professor Dimpledoor?"

"It's Dumbledore, and yes, I know him." Her face contorted, sneering as she continued. "I met him when dear old Lily got recruited to that, that school of hers." She looked as though she was going to spew.

Vernon was taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Well I still don't want him near this house! I have had enough of your freakish friends coming to my house and I will not have it..."

"VERNON!"

He shot a startled and angry look at Petunia. Harry had never seen him give her that angry of a look before. Harry was used to getting that look himself, but he could never remember his Uncle getting this mad at Aunt Petunia before.

"Yes Petunia?" Vernon asked in that calm angry voice.

Petunia blushed, but stood firm. "Dumbledore is supposed to be the most powerful of their kind in the world. He's the one who sent that nasty letter last year. I don't think it would be smart to make him mad." She paused for a moment, thinking, and then continued. "Besides, if he's coming to pick him up" gesturing to Harry as if he were a piece of furniture "then it just means there is less of a chance for him to mess things up again this summer. I say the more often he's gone the better."

Vernon seemed torn by this new information. On the one hand, it seemed to be something the boy wanted, and it also seemed to involve information that Petunia had hidden from him for the better part of the past twenty years. On the other hand, she did have a point. Having even one more day without Harry was that much better.

After what seemed like ten minutes, although Harry was sure it was less than one, Vernon finally spoke again. It was again in a soft and controlled voice.

"Fine. If he wants to come and take you away, so be it. But he had better come the normal way, and I don't want him sticking around. He can just pick you up and be gone with the both of you. You can tell Petunia when you'll be coming back. Now if you will excuse me, I have a job to get to."

And with that, he stood up and walked out of the kitchen without as much as a goodbye. A few moments later Harry heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of the car starting up and pulling out of the driveway.

Harry turned to look at his Aunt. She was staring at the kitchen door as if it were something she had never seen before.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry called. "Aunt Petunia?" he called again.

Finally, she turned and looked at Harry, still the look of utter confusion on her face. Something changed, because suddenly her face had turned back to its normal scrunched up and angry look, as if a happy charm had been abruptly broken. When she next spoke, it was in her normal, disdainful voice.

"Well, what are you waiting for boy? Go pack your things. If you're leaving at nine, I want you prepared to leave by no later than eight thirty."

Any sign of concerned, docile woman from before was defiantly gone. When she continued, there was no sign of fear or courtesy. "What are you looking at boy? Get packing," she said angrily.

"But I don't know how much to pack," Harry said, submissively. The last thing he wanted to do was get aggressive with her. "I'm sorry. I just don't know how long I'll be gone for."

"You don't you know how long you will be gone for?" she cried. "Of course you don't. Why would you? Don't know anything unless it's spelled out for you, do you boy? Well, I expect you should be gone for at least three days if you are going to be picked up by the Headmaster of your school. So, get going. Start packing."

Harry turned and walked out of the kitchen as fast as he could. As odd as things had just been, all Harry could think of was the fact that in less than two hours, Dumbledore would be here, and Harry would be on his way out of here.

He ran upstairs as quickly as possible, and nearly knocked Dudley off his feet as he ran to his room. Once inside, he grabbed an old knapsack that he inherited from Dudley when he got a new one for his birthday. He packed three days worth of supplies into the knapsack, and put everything else that would fit into his trunk. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he could not ignore the fact that he might just be able to leave for the rest of the summer, and he didn't want to pass up the chance just because he was not ready.

Lastly, Harry went to grab his broom and put it next to his trunk. He looked over at his clock. He still had over an hour until Dumbledore would show up.

The next hour dragged on for what seemed like an eternity. Harry tried to spend the time using the broom kit Hermione gave him for his thirteenth birthday. He made sure to put the Westler all-purpose broom wax evenly over the entire broom handle. Then he straightened the bristles with some bristle mist and a broom brush, careful to keep them straight and together. He put the final touches on the bristles by binding them together with his Bristlebands to keep them in place.

He looked at the clock. It was only eight seventeen. Still another forty-three minutes left. Time just did not seem to want to move for him. He finally gave in, opened his History of Magic book, and began to read. The paragraphs seemed to merge into one continuous line of incoherent babble. Nothing made sense.

It was eight twenty four. He traded his History of Magic for Transfiguration. Again, nothing caught his eye.

Eight thirty one. He traded Transfiguration for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He looked over his notes from last year. He remembered the DA meetings he ran in the room of requirement. The meetings became necessary after Professor Umbridge, the new Defense teacher, had refused to teach them anything practical.

For the better part of the school year, Harry lead the DA, or Dumbledore's Army, in learning the more practical applications of magic for defense against Dark Magic. He remembered how far Neville Longbottom had come during the year. Neville was always a bit clumsy when it came to magic and it was a near guarantee that if Neville was casting the spell, something would go wrong. But after an incident during Christmas, Neville turned over a new leaf and worked as hard as anyone could imagine. In only two months he had gone from being one of the poorest in the class to being one of the best. When it came time to work on the shield charm, a spell to deflect minor jinxes, only Hermione learned it faster than him. He had come so far.

Many others had come far too, including the Weasley twins, Dean Thomas, Katie Bell, Lavender Brown, the Creevey brothers, even Justin Flinch Fletchley. There were more than twenty in all, and they all made incredible progress, and Harry could not have felt more proud. But all that was lost when Marietta Edgecombe went to Professor Umbridge and told her about the DA. Overall, it could have ended worse. Still, Harry was furious with her for it, and he was still a bit bitter about it all these months later.

Then there was Cho Chang. It was Cho that brought Marietta to the DA meetings in the first place. Harry had liked Cho since his first year, and was even going to ask her to the Yule Ball during fourth year. Unfortunately, Cedric Diggory had asked her out before Harry, and then Cedric had died, and everything fell apart. Then, last year, they had finally gone out on a Hogsmeade weekend. That ended up being a very short date, and things didn't get any better throughout the year.

It seemed that ever since Cedric asked her out, Harry always seemed to end up with more bad memories with Cho than good. Marietta was just the last straw. The funny thing was, on the train ride home from Hogwarts Harry had seen Cho and, for the first time in nearly two years, he actually felt comfortable around her. He guessed it was because he no longer had feelings for her. She was going out with someone else, and Harry was sure that next year he would start looking at other girls at school for dates.

Harry was just beginning to go through a mental list of girls at Hogwarts that he would be interested in when he heard the doorbell. His head swung instinctively to his clock. It was nine o'clock on the dot.

Dumbledore was here. Harry ran out of his bedroom door, down the hall, and took the steps two at a time. He was four steps from the bottom when he saw who was at the front door. He stopped. It wasn't Dumbledore. Harry had never seen him before, but he was definitely a Muggle, and therefore not Professor Dumbledore. Harry climbed down the rest of the stairs and headed for the kitchen.

"Harry," called Petunia, "your Professor is here."

Harry's head whipped around. He walked quickly over to Petunia and the stranger. He took a quick glance outside, expecting to see Dumbledore somewhere outside. When he was not there, he looked up at his Aunt with a slightly confused look on his face.

"Where is he?" he asked.

"What are you getting at boy?," she snapped at him. "He's right there in front of you."

Harry took another look at the stranger in front of him who was smiling broadly down at Harry. He was sure he had never met this man before in his life, and yet, there was something familiar about him. The man was at least six feet tall and did have a similar build to Dumbledore, but he didn't have the beard, his hair was short and dark brown, his nose was shorter at a bit fatter, and his eyes were brown, not blue. But there was an unmistakable sparkle in his eyes that shown as bright as the night stars.

"Professor?" said Harry in a soft and confused voice. The man's smile broadened a bit more.

"Hello Harry," came a low soft voice. Harry knew that voice at once. He looked up into the unfamiliar face of his Headmaster.

"May I impose upon you to come in for a moment, Mrs. Dursley?" Dumbledore asked.

"Please," Petunia replied in her coldest voice. Harry could tell that his Aunt wanted nothing more than to tell him no, but her fear of wizards kept her in check for the moment.

As soon as Dumbledore was all the way in the house, Harry took a better look at his Headmaster. Aside from the change in appearance in his face, he had also mastered Muggle clothes even better than Harry could have ever imagined. He was wearing light tan slacks, a white pinstripe shirt under a maroon sweater vest, and a beige overcoat, which lay over his left arm. He could have easily passed for a Muggle businessman.

Harry led him into the family room and offered him a seat in Uncle Vernon's chair. He smiled and took a seat.

"Absolutely amazing. Theses Muggle inventions just amaze me more and more. This must be the most comfortable chair I have ever had the pleasure of sitting in. I must look into getting one of these for my office. But alas, I did not come here to discuss Muggle furniture. I dare say we have more important matters at hand. However, I do not think this is the wisest of places to discuss this. I do apologize if I did not give you enough information in my letter, but there were reasons, which you will find out soon enough. Now, if you are ready?"

"Actually sir, I do have a question before we leave, if I may," Harry said.

"By all means," he replied.

"Well sir, I was just wondering how long I will be gone for. I didn't know if I needed to pack, or how much to pack, or anything."

"Oh my, I did forget to mention that, didn't I? Well, I think one day's supplies will do for now, but you may not want to unpack everything when you get back. But again, I am getting ahead of myself. If you don't mind, I would like a quick word with your Aunt while you go get your things," Dumbledore said with another broad smile.

"Of course sir," said Harry. He then turned towards the kitchen and called "Aunt Petunia?"

Her head curved around the wall separating the kitchen from the dinning room and family room. Her eyes narrowed.

"Yes? Are you ready to go?" she asked with a tone of impatience.

"We will be on our way in a moment. The professor said we'll only be gone for the night and will be back some time tomorrow. He also wants a word with you while I get my things," He said this last remark with a softer, more careful tone than he usually used with her, hoping she would not embarrass him in front of Dumbledore.

She stepped out from the kitchen, but did not make any movement towards the family room. She looked almost like she was waiting for an opportunity to run away were the need to arise.

"Yes?" she asked, in a very cautious tone.

As Dumbledore stood to speak with Harry's Aunt, he took the opportunity to run upstairs and grab his knapsack. He went over to the window and unlocked it, looking at the clouds overhead. The weather had cleared up a bit and it was supposed to clear up more over the next few days. He left it cracked an inch or so, in case Hedwig came back that night.

He turned and headed back downstairs as fast as possible. He walked into the family room and stopped dead in his tracks.

Aunt Petunia was smiling, sitting on the couch, and actually having a conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Harry stood there in complete awe. After a few moments, Dumbledore seemed to take notice that Harry had come back into the room and stood up.

"My dear Petunia, it has been a pleasure. And the next time you go to London, I highly suggest you enjoy a cup of tea at the Prinns Café. You will not find a better cup of English Tea in all of Europe. Now, Harry, if you're ready?" he asked, turning to Harry as he began putting on his coat. All Harry could do was nod his head. He looked past Dumbledore to where Petunia stood, still drinking a cup of tea, and though the smile had faded from her face, she did not seem to have the standard growl that covered her face most of the time.

Dumbledore strode over to Harry and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, escorting him to the front door.

"Thank you again for your hospitality, and I will be sure to have Harry back here promptly at six PM tomorrow night. Until next time, I thank you again for all your help, and again for taking young Harry in. And please say hello from me to Vernon." He turned to Harry and whispered in a firm voice, "Don't you want to say goodbye to your Aunt?"

Harry looked over at his Aunt, still confused by the past few moments. "Goodbye," was all he mustered.

He turned and headed out the front door, Dumbledore following closely behind him.

When the door behind them closed, Dumbledore began down the walkway to the street, and Harry followed.

"Excuse me sir, but where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"Why, to Sirius's house, of course. Did you not receive my letter?" He asked in a pleasant, upbeat voice.

"Um, yes sir. But how are we getting there?" asked Harry.

"We will be heading over to Arabella Figg's house. She is expecting us."

Harry shook his head back and forth. He should have thought of that. He just wasn't thinking as well as he should. He'd been spending so much time feeling sorry for himself, he'd stopped thinking about anything else. He shook his head again, trying to snap himself out if it and start concentrating on what he was doing.

He looked up just in time to avoid walking straight into a sign post.

They continued down the street towards Mrs. Figg's house and got to her front door just a few minutes later.

She opened the front door quickly and ushered them in.

"Come in, come in. Please, have a seat in my living room. I will grab you a cup of tea. It's just freezing out there. Weather's not supposed to heat up until tomorrow at the earliest."

"Thank you Arabella, but I believe that I have delayed young Harry here for much too long as it is. If you don't mind, I would rather like to go over to Grimmauld Place as quickly as possible. You, of course, are welcome to come. I dare say Harry will be wanting as much company as possible, and since the Weasley family will not be coming out until Monday, I believe you will be most welcome when the time comes."

Harry began to feel his face flush. They were talking about him as though he was not there, and they obviously knew something he did not. He was very tired of everyone knowing what was best for him when he didn't know what was going on. And here they were, doing it again.

"Excuse me," he called, a bit louder than he expected. "Why will I want other people around, and why is the whole Weasley family going to Sirius's house on Monday. Would someone please tell me what is going on?" His voice had increased to a low roar by the time he was done.

"I am sorry Harry. We should not have been talking like that in front of you. But I promise, in less than an hour, you will be brought up to speed on everything we have been discussing here." Again he smiled down at Harry, and he felt his temperature begin to drop back down a couple of degrees, though he was ready to explode again if they started back up.

Dumbledore walked over to the fireplace and waved his wand. A roaring fire burst into flames, crackling as if it had been burning for hours. Dumbledore reached into his coat pocket and pulled out what looked like a combination of sand and ash. He threw it on the fire and the flames turned a bright blue.

"I will be right behind you," said Dumbledore.

Harry nodded to Dumbledore and stepped into the fire. He felt the light tingle that he always felt when he took floo powder anywhere. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said in his calmest voice, "Grimmauld Place."

Everything became a blur. Harry could see the living rooms of dozens of different houses pass quickly before his eyes. He was glad he didn't have to bring his trunk. It bumped into him the last time he had to take his trunk through the floo network, and he was not looking forward to having that experience again.

Finally, the swirling stopped, his feet hit the floor, and he tumbled out of the living room fireplace of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

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Coming Soon

Chapter 2

The Reading of the Will