Intersections

Chapter 5: Discoveries

Lingering nervously at the front door of his house and trying fruitlessly to pat his hair down, Harry waited for Hermione to pick him up for the party. He had dressed in a green jumper, black slacks, and pair of shiny black shoes that felt very stiff on his feet, and he hoped that it was appropriate. The only thing Harry knew about parties were those that his aunt and uncle sometimes attended. Uncle Vernon would bulge out of a suit and tie, while Aunt Petunia would always wear a frilly purple frock, which Harry thought made her look like an old, wrinkled version of Alice in Wonderland. Of course, he had never said that to her face.

Harry had spent the entire day cleaning the house. He'd forgotten about his cousin's return from Smeltings until Aunt Petunia had woken him up at eight o'clock sharp to scrub the kitchen floor. Under the condition that he'd be allowed to attend Sara's party if he finished all of his chores, Harry had complied with his aunt's order with a sigh, along with several cases of eye-rolling behind her back. Still, he had to admit that keeping himself occupied was better than thinking about his nightmares for hours on end. Ever since that rush of flashing experiences in the shower, Harry had been dreaming every night about terrible things. At first he couldn't remember his nightmares - he would just wake up shaking, sweating, and exhausted. Towards the end of the week, he'd started to make a conscious effort to record them. All seemed to contain some aspect of the magical world that he'd never seen before, though of course he couldn't be sure. Harry had dreamed of magical wands numerous times, as well as flashes of light accompanied by phrases in Latin, hissing noises, lots of screaming, and the image of the skull and snake that he'd seen on the newscast. Although Aunt Petunia still refused to give him any more information, Harry hoped that his dreams, coupled with Hermione's ongoing research over the holidays, would help them solve the mystery of the magical world.

Naturally, none of this information helped him with the round of mock exams he'd had to take before the term ended. Harry had studied for them half-heartedly. Less than two weeks ago, he would have tried his hardest to do well in his lessons, but figuring out magic felt so much more important right now than revising for GCSEs. Harry knew he'd probably regret this mindset later, but he had another six months to correct his priorities.

A car pulled up to the front door of the house, but Harry's heart dropped when he saw that it was only Uncle Vernon and Dudley returning from the train station. He had hoped to conveniently miss their arrival by heading to the party a little bit earlier, but it looked like he was not that lucky. Harry tensed as he heard Dudley come in through the back door, being greeted by Aunt Petunia with several exclamations of "Oh my Dudders! You've grown so handsome, popkin!"

Dudley finally lumbered into the hallway where Harry stood waiting. "Why aren't you in your cupboard?" Dudley asked nastily. "Take my trunk upstairs, you runt."

"Can't," Harry said stiffly, staring resolutely through the window. "I've a party to attend."

"You? A party?" Dudley laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. "I don't believe it. Who would want you at a party?"

"A friend," Harry replied, whirling around with his fists clenched. His blonde cousin still towered over him as he'd done when they were kids. However, Dudley had also got loads wider since the last time Harry had seen him.

"You haven't got any friends," Dudley smirked. "I made sure of it."

"I do now," snapped Harry, readying himself for a fight and praying that he wouldn't get into one so close to the party time. He bit back a sigh of relief as he heard knocking on the door, and he wrenched it open before Dudley could get a punch in. Hermione stood on the front steps, looking at Harry expectantly. Her parents' little blue car was waiting on the side of the road.

"Are you ready?" she asked cheerfully, her cheeks pink from the cold. She rubbed her gloved hands together and shivered.

Harry nodded and put on his coat, grinning at Dudley's flabbergasted face before slamming the door shut. He crammed into the backseat of the car next to two boys he didn't know. One was short and bulky with long, dark brown hair and dark eyes, while the other was tall and weedy with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes.

"Harry, these are my friends Daniel and Richard from my old school, Witsford," Hermione said, pulling on her seatbelt as her father drove to Sara's house. Her hair was pulled back into a long plait. "Daniel, Richard - this is Harry."

"Hello," said the weedy boy, shaking Harry's hand. "I'm Daniel."

"Pleasure to meet you," Harry answered, as the bulky boy - Richard - simply nodded with a grunt.

"I'm so excited to be going to the party," Hermione said brightly from the front seat. "Aren't you?"

"It should be fun," Daniel replied blandly. Richard grunted again. Harry was beginning to think that he didn't speak at all.

"I met Harry on my first day at Stonewall," Hermione continued. "He was the first friend I made there." Harry felt himself flush as both pairs of brown eyes swiveled toward him. He still wasn't used to such focused attention.

"How'd you two meet?" Daniel asked. "In lessons?"

"In the form room," Harry said. "We're in the same one."

Daniel let out an "ah" and fell silent. Harry fidgeted with his hands throughout the awkward car ride, as Hermione unsuccessfully tried to engage the boys in conversation. Finally, they arrived at Sara's house, which was decorated to the brim with glowing Christmas lights and reindeer. Harry took a deep breath of the cold winter air, his heart pounding as he watched Hermione ring the doorbell.

Loud music and laughter filled the air as Sara opened the door and greeted them. They followed her inside, taking off their shoes and lining them up on the hardwood floor as she requested, and then joined the group of people chatting with each other in the large living room. The living room connected to a kitchen, where people were pouring each other cups of punch from a very large bowl and making other drinks using a loud, buzzing blender and a variety of bottles and juices on the counter. Harry felt himself get dizzy for a moment. Privet Drive and school were so quiet compared to this place.

"Harry!" Lina sidled up to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him close. Harry practically fell down on top of her. He caught Hermione's eye, who looked at him with both amusement and exasperation before turning back to her London friends. "Harry!" Lina exclaimed again, releasing him with a giggle. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Er...sure, Lina," he answered. He watched her go into the kitchen toward the punch bowl, then he removed himself to the farthest corner of the room. A pretty Chinese girl was sitting on the couch, talking quietly to a boy with light brown hair and a warm expression. The girl caught sight of Harry and stood up, smiling.

"I'm Cho Chang," she said, holding out her hand. The boy stood up next to her. "I'm Sara's cousin."

"And I'm Ralph Ross," the boy said quickly. "Arianne's older brother. We board at the same school."

Harry shook both their hands, blinking a little as he tried to wrap his head around that connection and wondering briefly why Arianne didn't also attend the school. "I'm Harry," he told them. "Harry Potter."

Cho and Ralph both drew back in shock, gaping at him.

"What?" Harry asked nervously, running a hand through his hair. Their eyes flickered to his forehead until his fringe fell forward again.

"It's nothing," Cho said, her face pale. She gave him a strained smile.

"Harry, would you - excuse us for a moment?" Ralph asked firmly.

Harry nodded, backing toward the wall. He could hear the couple's conversation if he strained his ears a little bit.

"...to think he was living as a Muggle this whole time!"

"Maybe he's a Squib? The curse scar might have left him powerless."

"Dumbledore..." Harry leaned forward, trying to listen to Ralph. "...desperate to find him since You-Know-Who is returned..."

"Can you send a message to him after the party?"

"No, I need to send it now...don't worry, I just need quill and parchment - I mean pen and paper - "

A pair of wide brown eyes suddenly stuck themselves in front of Harry's face. "Hi, Harry!" Lina said brightly, holding out a cup of punch.

Harry took it, his eyes following Cho and Ralph. They were leaving the living room and heading toward the kitchen. Harry handed the cup back to Lina quickly. "Sorry, I'll be right back," he said, pushing past her and quickly following the couple as Lina pouted. Harry went through a door at the side of the kitchen, which connected to a small room containing a desk, a chair, and several stuffed animals. Cho and Ralph looked up when he entered.

"Harry?" Cho said with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I told you to excuse us," Ralph said, nonplussed, his right hand resting on his jeans pocket. He was sitting down at the desk.

"Look, I -" Harry hesitated, then he felt something inside of him rise up, urging him to continue. "I know about magic. I don't know much about it - I just know that I have it. My aunt - she showed me this letter from years ago, from Dumbledore. There was something about a school, Hogwarts, and how I'd been accepted there. Hermione - my friend who's also here - she knows too. She found the same letter in her house."

Ralph's eyes narrowed. He stood up quickly and whipped a stick of wood out of his jeans pocket - a magic wand, Harry recognized from his dreams. Ralph and Cho both pointed their wands at Harry and backed him up against the door. "How do we know you are really Harry Potter?" Ralph asked.

"My - my National Insurance number," Harry said, raising his hands slowly. "It's in my purse in my pocket."

Ralph pointed his wand downward and whispered something. Harry's purse flew into Ralph's hand, and the brunette boy opened it carefully, pulling out Harry's documentation and scanning it, all the while keeping his wand fixed on Harry. "All right," Ralph said, and he lowered his wand. "Sorry about that, mate," he said, clapping Harry on the shoulder and handing him the purse.

"Look - is there a way I can contact this Dumbledore person? My aunt told me to do that, but she wouldn't tell me how," Harry said, looking between the two.

Cho and Ralph exchanged glances. "Ralph's just sent a message to Dumbledore about you," Cho answered, "so I expect you'll hear from the headmaster soon."

"Wait," Harry said desperately, as Ralph reached past him for the door handle. "Is there anything else you can tell me? Hermione and I have been trying to find out about magic for ages, but nothing's turned up."

Cho looked at him nervously and licked her lips. "We're both students at Hogwarts," she answered after a long moment of hesitation. "Dumbledore is the headmaster. If you and Hermione received letters, then you're definitely wizards."

"That's all we can tell you," Ralph said sharply, cutting her off. His voice softened. "But listen, Harry - like Cho said, Dumbledore will probably contact you soon. Take care of yourself, and keep your head down. A lot of people are looking for you, and not all of them are good."

"Who's looking for me?" Harry asked, remembering the phone call Hermione had received. "Tell me. Please!"

Ralph shook his head apologetically. "Just don't go to London," he said, and he opened the door to a very red-faced Lina, who was still holding two cups of punch.

"Harry!" she cried shrilly as Ralph and Cho slipped past her to join the crowd in the living room. She smelled vaguely like alcohol. "You owe me my dance," Lina pouted, and then she giggled. "Here's your punch." She waited until he took it, then pulled him by the arm into the living room. "Come on," she said, setting her cup and his down onto a nearby table, "let's dance!" She started to gyrate wildly against him, flailing in time to the music, her curls bouncing against his face. Harry felt color rise in his cheeks as her motions sent an unwelcome but pleasant reaction throughout his body. Raising his eyes above her head, he saw Cho talking to Hermione, who glanced at him and smiled a little before continuing the conversation.

"Oh - you really like her," Lina said breathlessly, twisting around and looking toward Hermione's direction. Harry hadn't even noticed that the music had stopped. "Well -" Lina looked disappointed for a moment, but she smiled brightly again as she took a huge swig of her punch. "That's all right. Thanks for the dance, Harry. Good luck." She patted Harry's hand and plopped down next to Katharine on the sofa.

Harry went over toward Hermione, who was standing alone now, watching her friends from London mixing drinks in the kitchen. "Hi," he said.

"Hi, Harry," she said, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Cho told me what happened. You'll be receiving a letter from Dumbledore, then?"

"I suppose," Harry said, "though I think it's only fair that he send you one too."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, Harry," she said, her eyes straying toward Daniel and Richard again as she frowned. "Go on, enjoy the party. I'll be here."

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"It's peculiar," Ralph confided to Hermione as he sipped the punch, making faces at its taste, "seeing my baby sister with a boyfriend." He nodded toward Arianne, who was swaying to music in the middle of the living room rug with her arms wrapped tightly around Will. "Do you know if they've shagged each other yet?"

Hermione choked on her water, appalled at the inappropriate question. "Pardon?"

"Hmm," Ralph muttered darkly, glaring at no one in particular, and he stalked over to the kitchen to pour himself more punch. Hermione's eyes wandered around the dimly lit living room. Cho and Harry were sitting on the sofa, chatting awkwardly. Harry was blushing red from a few cups of punch and Cho's proximity. Daniel and Richard were still making drinks in the kitchen, as they had been doing the whole night without ever stopping to talk to her, and Lina and Katharine were on either side of a couch, snogging two separate boys with varying amounts of tongue. Hermione recognized one as the freckly-faced boy in her physics class. Sara, meanwhile, was acting as a gracious hostess, visiting and chatting with the few groups of strangers that Hermione didn't know and pleasantly ignoring the couples scattered about her living room with a smile.

"How are you, Hermione?" Sara asked, taking Ralph's spot next to her.

"I'm fine," Hermione said, though in reality she was quite bored and wanted to go home.

Sara gave her a smile. "Now that I've made my rounds, I think I'll keep you company."

"Thanks," said Hermione, feeling honestly relieved. She turned to the girl next to her. "Do you have parties every year?"

Sara shook her head. "This is my first one. My parents finally decided to go on holiday this year, leaving me alone with the house. They didn't really feel comfortable with that, though, so they asked Cho to watch over me for the week. She's a bit older than I am." She glanced across the room at her cousin. "Harry seems to be enjoying her company," she remarked with a laugh.

Hermione nodded her agreement, watching as Cho stood up abruptly and strode quickly to the kitchen, her long black hair whipping behind her briefly before covering her very red face. Harry ran a hand through his hair, looking as if he were trying to calm himself in more ways than one. He looked around the room, caught Hermione's eye, and then looked away toward the wall as if he were embarrassed.

"Does Cho have a boyfriend?" Hermione asked, watching Harry closely.

"Yes, she has one from school," Sara smiled knowingly with a wicked gleam in her eye, "a boy named Cedric. He's good friends with Ralph, I think."

"I see," said Hermione, strongly suspecting that Harry had just tried to kiss Cho and failed miserably. She pondered whether or not she should ask him later, suppressing a smile as he crossed the room toward her and Sara, still looking mortified.

"Hello, Harry," Sara said with laughter in her voice. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"It's - it's great," Harry stammered feverishly, his face still very red as he tugged at the collar of his jumper. "It's a bit hot in here, isn't it? I think I might take a step outside."

"There's ice in the kitchen," Sara offered.

"You might want to put some on your face before my parents pick us up," Hermione added.

Harry nodded distractedly, looking at Cho, who was still in the kitchen talking frantically to Ralph.

"I'll go and get you some ice," said Sara, suppressing a laugh. "Sit down, Harry."

Harry followed her orders, looking down at the ground with a hint of misery. Hermione felt a touch of pity and patted him on the shoulder awkwardly. "I'm sure she wasn't a very good kisser anyways," she said sympathetically.

Harry jerked upward and looked at her, horrified. "You - you saw?"

"Well, I - not exactly," Hermione said, flustered. "She left so suddenly, so I suspected..."

Harry looked as if he didn't know whether to be relieved or more embarrassed. "Er, yeah," he mumbled, his cheeks turning an even deeper red.

"Here's the ice," Sara announced, coming over and handing Harry a very cold plastic bag wrapped in a paper towel, which he pressed to his right cheek with a sigh of relief. "Hermione, I told your friends from London to drink some water, they're starting to look a little bit drunk."

"Thank you," said Hermione, knowing her parents would not be pleased to find her friends smashed even if she were sober. Daniel and Richard were staying the night at her house, after all.

"It's getting late, so I'm going to put the punch away," Sara said, rising again. "Come and let me know when you're leaving." She smiled and left. Hermione realized suddenly that this was probably the longest conversation that they had ever had.

"Hermione," a voice said behind her. She turned around and saw Daniel looking at her very seriously. His cheeks were a little bit pink, but that could be blamed on the cold weather outside.

"Yes?" she asked, concerned.

"I saw your parents' car coming down the road. Is Harry sober?"

Next to her, Harry moved the ice pack from his right cheek to his left and nodded drowsily. "I'm fine," he said, yawning with the ice against his jaw.

Daniel shot Harry a concerned and slightly contemptuous glance. Hermione frowned - she had never seen such an expression on her friend's face. Usually Daniel was very considerate. Shaking her head, Hermione stood up to find Sara, who was attempting to dispose of all of the empty cups in the kitchen. Harry followed.

"We're leaving now," Hermione said, touching Sara's shoulder softly.

"Oh! All right. Thank you for coming to the party."

"Thank you for inviting me," said Hermione sincerely, and she started as she heard a faint knock on the front door. "Those must be my parents."

"All right. I'll see you at school then. Have a good holiday, Hermione," said Sara with a smile, and she pulled the girl into a quick hug. "You too, Harry." She grabbed the ice pack from Harry's hand, nodded at Daniel and Richard, and they grabbed their coats and opened the door.

"Hi Dad," Hermione said brightly. "We're all ready to go."

Mr. Granger looped an arm around Hermione's shoulders, leading her to the car as the three boys followed. "Did you have fun?" he asked.

"Loads," Hermione half-lied. It had been a little fun to see her friends from Stonewall, but she had barely talked with Daniel and Richard, which she had been hoping to do. Although the two boys had arrived at her house right after lunch, they'd only spoken with her for less than an hour before claiming that they needed to take a nap. Daniel had explained flatly that they hadn't slept all week due to exams, and Hermione acquiesced after seeing the very dark circles under both boys' eyes. Still, she thought resentfully, they ought to have been well-rested by the time of the party and talked to her there more than once.

At least she and Harry had found out a little bit about magic. It wasn't fair that the headmaster of Hogwarts would only contact Harry, but she was certain that Harry would show her Dumbledore's letter once he received it.

"How about you fellows?" Mr. Granger asked, looking behind him. "Did you have fun?"

Richard grunted in agreement, while Daniel replied "yes." Harry said "yes, sir," sleepily, and he clambered into the car, pressing his cheek against the window as Mr. Granger drove to Privet Drive. Hermione looked behind her. Harry looked like he was dozing off, while Daniel and Richard's faces were blank. She frowned, pondering her old friends' standoffish behavior. Even though she had never been as close to Daniel and Richard as to Matthew and Cecilia, they had shared several good memories in their four years of friendship. A mere two weeks of absence couldn't destroy such camaraderie. She hadn't even been involved in the fight over Cecilia's music that Matthew had mentioned on the phone, so they couldn't be angry at her over that. Hermione chewed on her lip, puzzled. What had she done to make them treat her so coldly during their visit?

Hermione watched as the car pulled up to Harry's house and he stumbled through the front door. He hadn't seemed that drunk after the Cho incident, but perhaps the adrenaline had kept him coherent. She turned her attention back to the boys in the backseat. They were still staring at her blankly, very unlike the warm and lively friends she'd once known. She resolved to talk to them once they arrived at her house. Something was definitely wrong, and she needed to find out.

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"Speak," Hermione commanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She blocked the doorway to the guest room and glared at the two boys in front of her.

"About what?" Richard grunted, looking irritable as he unzipped his bag and pulled out a pair of pajamas with pictures of computer mice, looking at them with disgust.

"About why you're treating me like this!" Hermione exclaimed furiously.

Daniel gave her a smile that did not reach his normally warm brown eyes. "We're sorry, Hermione, we're just a little tired," he said coldly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. She didn't believe that at all. "I let you nap for the entire afternoon."

"Look - it's just the exams," Daniel said, his expression softening slightly, though his eyes remained chips of ice. "They've been really rough this year, and we haven't slept this week at all."

"I know how difficult the exams are! I went to your school, in case you don't remember. That's never stopped you from talking to me before," Hermione shouted shrilly, frustrated, and hoping her parents wouldn't wake up at the noise. "You two barely said a word to me at the party!"

Daniel and Richard exchanged exasperated glances with each other.

"Hermione," Richard began with a pleading expression that turned into a grimace, "could you please let us sleep?" He checked his watch, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Not until you tell me what's going on," she answered with a scowl, her cheeks flushed with anger. "I thought you would be excited to visit me. You came all the way from London, for God's sake! What's changed? Why won't you talk to me?"

Daniel muttered something under his breath as Richard cleared his throat. "Hermione," Richard said, his fists clenching, "it's very late and we're very, very drunk. If you don't leave the room this instant, we might just have to cur--"

"--kick you out," Daniel finished with a glare at Richard.

Hermione stared at her old friends, her jaw dropping at the threat as she tried to calm her racing heart. "First of all," she said scathingly, adopting the tone of voice her mother used when she knew Hermione was lying to her, "you cannot kick me out of my own house. Secondly, I will not leave this room until you tell me why you've been treating me so atrociously. And thirdly, if you use exams as an excuse one more time, I will not hesitate to hit you upside the head. Hard!"

Both boys looked taken aback as Hermione stood there, her chest heaving with anger. Daniel's eyes flickered. "You'd have to still be in London to understand," he said stiffly, and he turned away.

"Please leave," Richard repeated, sounding genuinely tired, "it's for your own good." He grabbed the door handle and slowly swung it toward her direction, forcing her to back up into the hallway. The click of the lock echoed loudly in her ears as she stood outside the door, stunned and hurt. She tried to press her ear against the door to listen to what they were saying, but all she heard was silence. Pushing back the tears forming in her eyes, she ran upstairs and threw herself on the bed, gripping the covers with shaking hands as the conversation replayed over and over in her head, pulling her into a fitful sleep.

Hermione woke the next morning to the sounds of faint conversation and clinking cutlery. Blearily changing out of her party clothes, she went downstairs, surprised to see bacon, eggs, and toast laid out on the table and Daniel and Richard chatting genially to her parents. Daniel looked up at her and gave her an apologetic smile. "Richard and I made breakfast to make up for our behavior last night," he told her, patting the empty seat next to him.

She sat down, eyeing him warily. "Thank you," she said, taking a plate and helping herself to some eggs. Her father was talking animatedly to Richard about the newest type of dental implants available, while her mother occasionally joined in with corrections. Richard, for his part, appeared to be interested, nodding in response as he wolfed down eggs at an alarming rate.

"Hermione tells me you're a genius with computers," her father said to Richard suddenly. "Maybe you could take a look at ours in the office. I've been having trouble using this new program called Windows 95. I expect you'd know all about it, though," he laughed.

Richard coughed and choked on his eggs, looking panicked. "Yes, sir," he stammered, "Windows 95, it's brilliant, it is." He hastily shoved more eggs into his mouth, sending a wide-eyed, imploring look at Daniel, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Hermione frowned. When Windows 95 was released a few months ago, he'd talked about it for weeks to anyone who had the patience to listen.

"How are you boys going to return to London?" Mrs. Granger asked, placing the last piece of toast on Hermione's plate. Hermione took a bite. It tasted like cardboard.

"My parents are going to pick us up near the library," Daniel replied calmly, "if you wouldn't mind dropping us off there."

"Not at all," said Mrs. Granger. "What time are they expecting you?"

"Nine-thirty," said Daniel, glancing at Hermione's watch. There was half an hour left.

"That's plenty of time," said Hermione's father. "Hermione, didn't you want to visit the library again today? Why don't you come with us? You can say your good-byes while you wait with them."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "That'd be lovely," she lied. Although she still wanted to figure out her friends' strange behavior, she felt uneasy at the thought of spending more time with them than she had to. There was something off about their entire visit.

After a silent car ride, Daniel pulled her into a stiff hug at the entrance of the library, releasing her at arms' length and stepping away quickly. Richard did the same, patting her back once before turning away. "I'll just be in the library then," said Hermione, looking around and noticing that no cars were waiting to pick the boys up.

"Go on then, we'll be fine waiting here," said Daniel.

Hermione nodded, turning around and slowly opening the front doors. Once she was inside, she heard a loud crack like a gunshot and whipped around to see if her friends were all right. No one was there.

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Harry frowned as he picked up the letter lying on the door mat, massaging his temples briefly to get rid of his headache. Post didn't come on Sundays. The envelope was addressed to Aunt Petunia, and on the back was a wax seal that Harry recognized from the Hogwarts letter. He frowned. Was Dumbledore trying to contact him? Why would he send a letter to Aunt Petunia instead of Harry?

Heading into the kitchen, he nibbled at a piece of a toast while his aunt finished frying the eggs. She hadn't made him cook breakfast this weekend as she normally did. Harry was enjoying not having to do chores all the time anymore. Perhaps he would be able to find a real job with all of this spare time.

"You have a letter," he said without preamble as she set down the eggs on the table.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped, "there's no post on Sundays."

"I know that," Harry said, annoyed, "but I found this on the door mat this morning." He handed his aunt the Hogwarts letter, impatiently waiting for her to open it. Her face went pale as she read. "What does it say?" he asked.

Aunt Petunia looked up, looking very irritable. "You managed to contact him then," she bit out, "Dumbledore."

"Yes, and a fat load of help you were," Harry muttered under his breath.

Aunt Petunia glared. "What was that?"

"Nothing, Aunt Petunia," replied Harry, trying to look innocent. "What does the letter say?"

"He's coming in the afternoon," she answered, gripping the letter so tightly that her knuckles went white. "At two o'clock."

"Oh. That's nice. Does he want to talk to me?" asked Harry, resisting the urge to stand next to her and read the letter himself.

"Yes," she snapped, "both of us. Now stop asking questions and go to your room."

Grabbing the last piece of toast, Harry shrugged and went upstairs, thinking excitedly about Dumbledore's visit. He contemplated ringing up Hermione to tell her about the visit, but decided that she was probably busy spending time with her friends from London. They hadn't seemed particularly friendly to Harry, but he was still adjusting to social situations. Maybe someone who had made friends before the age of fifteen could make good conversation. Harry knew he couldn't.

There was a loud banging on his door. Harry scowled, pulled it open, and came face-to-face with his whale of a cousin. "What do you want, Dudley?"

"Why aren't you cooking breakfast?" Dudley sneered.

"Your mum cooked," Harry answered, "but I bet you were too much of a bloody idiot to check before bothering me about it."

Dudley's small, squinty eyes narrowed, and he reached out and shoved Harry backward. Harry stumbled a little, but stood his ground, glaring. "Go downstairs and eat, Dudley," he said, "I've heard pigs like you need loads of food." He slammed the door shut in his cousin's enraged face and locked it for good measure, biting back a laugh Dudley banged on the door for another five minutes.

Uncle Vernon shouted from the end of the hallway. "Boy! Why are you making so much ruddy noise in the - oh. Dudley. What's the matter?"

"Harry won't let me into my old room," Dudley whined pathetically as if he were ten years old.

Uncle Vernon cleared his throat and knocked on the door. "Boy! Open the door this instant!"

Harry took a sharp, exasperated breath and threw open the door. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?" he said with a scowl. Dudley smirked nastily.

"You're to leave the door unlocked at all times," Uncle Vernon said, puffing his chest out.

Harry sighed, knowing that Dudley would barge in and destroy the room as soon as he got the chance. "Yes, Uncle Vernon."

Uncle Vernon cleared his throat and turned to his son. "Come on, Dudders, let's go and eat some breakfast. We'll bring our plates into the living room so we can watch the telly at the same time."

Dudley shot Harry a nasty smile, walking down the stairs. Harry rolled his eyes and sprawled out on top of his bed, savoring the freedom from school, his mind wandering restlessly as he thought about Dumbledore's visit. What would the headmaster tell him? Would he explain the strange dreams Harry had been having, the incident with Polkiss on the steps? What about the school, Hogwarts? Why were he and Hermione magical when their parents weren't?

Harry heard a shriek, followed by the loud sound of china shattering, and he jumped up out of bed, sitting down on the bottommost stair and listening to the argument in the kitchen.

"You mean to tell me that - that the boy - knows?" Uncle Vernon sounded horrified.

"I told him, Vernon," Aunt Petunia responded.

"Y-you - but why?"

"The attacks in London...I think it had to do with their world." The last part was said in a quiet, secretive way. Harry had to lean forward to hear it. "The boy - you read the letter when we found him on our doorstep, Vernon! He's a sort of - savior to their world."

"But Petunia, my dear, those attacks are just workings of an evil criminal gang! The bobbies will take care of it," said Uncle Vernon, though he didn't sound very confident.

"No," Aunt Petunia said in a rush, "I've seen that awful mark before, I know it's something to do with that freaky world of my sister's!" Harry's eyes widened. "I thought - maybe if we sent the boy back to them, he'd be able to put a stop to all of this - this crime."

"Well, I suppose you're right, dear," Uncle Vernon replied, still sounding uncertain. "But - suppose that he's not - a freak? I haven't seen any funny business from him since that time at the zoo. Perhaps we squashed it out of him after all with our chores."

There was a pause, as if Aunt Petunia were considering something. "Perhaps," she finally said. "Nothing has happened since he turned eleven, has it?" Harry thought back to Stonewall's front steps, shielding himself from Polkiss and the rain.

"So - so this old coot is still coming to our house? We can't stop him?" Uncle Vernon asked.

"He's insisted," Aunt Petunia said in a strained voice. "Vernon, dear, why don't you take Dudley to the sports goods shop at that time? It'll be good for you two to have some time alone."

"Yes - yes, I'll do that," Uncle Vernon blustered. "Wonderful idea."

Harry lay back down on his bed, his mind brimming with even more questions. Had his mother also been a witch? What did the snake-skull image mean? Why did his aunt and uncle want to stop him from being magical? The disappearing glass must have been magic, according to what Uncle Vernon said. Why hadn't they told him earlier? And most importantly, what did Aunt Petunia mean when she said he was a savior to 'their' world - the magical world?