Harry Potter and the Sphere of Demsildinh

In the few weeks that passed since he first laid quill to the pages of the diary, Harry had grown more determined and confident. His fear and the recurring nightmares from the previous confrontation with Voldemort had started to wane. However, that did not make the fact that he'd have to face Voldemort again in the near future any less terrifying.

With Sirius' guidance, Harry kept on practicing defensive spells. He had learned a great deal from the words of his godfather. It was much better to learn from Sirius' words than from textbooks anyway, since from Sirius he got repeated encouragement, which textbooks could hardly provide.

Meanwhile, Harry still kept up correspondence with Ron and Hermione, both of whom were delighted to know that Sirius was still with them in one form or another. However, Hermione did not think that talking with Sirius' diary was such a great idea.

Harry chose to ignore her. He did not feel like arguing.

Besides, he was convinced that it was Sirius. Only the real Sirius would have been able to tell him more about his parents, and only the real Sirius would be able to relate the adventures of the Marauders. Hermione did not know what she was talking about.

So, it is in the evenings that Harry would sit down with Sirius' diary and spend hours reading his godfathers words. It was always very interesting. Harry especially liked to learn more about his parents.

One evening, Sirius decided to tell Harry about his parents' wedding. From Sirius' descriptions, it sounded amazing...

When Harry finished reading this, he closed his eyes and tried to picture it all in his mind. As he did so, a smile spread across his face.

Suddenly, there was a loud cracking sound, as if a dry twig was snapped in two.

Harry opened his eyes and quickly grabbed his wand up from the table. Jumping off the chair, wand at the ready, he proceeded to scan the room for anyone or anything, but he could see no one.

He made his way slowly over to the window. Raising his wand to eye level, he was about to look out and see if someone had aparated outside the house, but then he heard a thud behind him, a sound of something hitting wood. He spun around, startled.

The sound had come from the wardrobe. Harry swallowed hard and started to inch his way toward it. When he figured he was close enough to see inside it, he waved his wand and spoke the incantation -

The wardrobe doors suddenly burst open and there was a rush or wind from inside. Harry shielded his head and ducked as a good amount of clothing (pants, shirts and socks) soared over his head, through the air and onto the floor behind him.

When the rush of air stopped, Harry looked inside the wardrobe but found that it was completely empty except for the few hangers with jeans and shirts which were not blown out by the spell.

Harry felt a tug from the back. Someone was pulling on his t-shirt. He quickly turned his shoulder and just started to cast a stunning spell, ("STUPE-") when he recognized the short, thin figure standing in the pile of clothes on the floor. It was Dobby the house elf.

"Dobby! What are you doing here!?" exclaimed Harry, letting out a deep breath. "You scared me half to death!"

The house elf adopted a very apologetic expression on his face.

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter," he said, brushing himself off. "But Dobby comes on very important business, sir. He carries a message for Harry Potter."

This was not the first time that Dobby unexpectedly showed up in front of Harry with what he said was an important message. However, Dobby's messages were often cryptic and usually spelled trouble. Harry couldn't help but wonder what it was this time.

"Alright, Dobby. Who is this message from?"

"It is from Professor Dumbledore, sir," pronounced Dobby, lifting his nose in the air. "It is important that Harry Potter receives it tonight."

"Dumbledore? You've got a message for me from Dumbledore?"

"Oh yes, Harry Potter. Dobby is working for the Order of the Phoenix now that Kreacher is gone. Professor Dumbledore asked Dobby to bring a message to Harry Potter. Dobby was glad to be chosen for this task. Dobby is always glad to see Harry Potter."

"Err... thanks..."

But something did not quite make sense to Harry.

"Wait a minute Dobby... Kreacher is gone?"

"But I thought Harry Potter knew... Kreacher went to serve Dobby's former masters... terrible people... the Malfoys, sir."

This new bit of information caught Harry a bit by surprise.

"But, why would Kreacher leave Sirius' home? Isn't he bound there?"

"Dobby cannot say why for certain, Harry Potter, but he guesses that after Sirius was gone, Kreacher felt that he no longer had to serve the house of Black."

This news, Harry could tell, was not good. If Kreacher no longer felt bound to serve in Sirius' old house, then was he still bound to keep secret everything that he'd overheard the members of the Order talking about? He made a mental note to talk to Ron and Hermione about this later. Feeling impatient, he urged Dobby to deliver his message...

"Ok Dobby. What was that message from Dumbledore?"

The house elf dug his small hands deep into the pockets of his tunic (undoubtedly a present from Hermione, Harry figured) and after a while of throwing all kinds of weird objects onto the floor, his hand emerged with a scroll of parchment. He handed it over to Harry with a slight bow.

"Thanks Dobby."

"Well, Dobby must be off now, Harry Potter. There are more duties that await him back at the Order of the Phoenix headquarters."

Then, without so much as a warning, Dobby ran up to Harry and hugged his legs, but before Harry could even acknowledge the house elf's affection, there was a loud *crack* and Dobby was gone.

After throwing his clothes back into the wardrobe, Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and unrolled the scroll to read Dumbledore's message.

Harry was entirely surprised by the second half of Dumbeldore's letter. Check under my bed? What?

Curious beyond belief, he dove underneath the bed and sure enough, there was a nice-sized package, wrapped in bronze-colored wrapping paper. Wondering how exactly Dumbledore had managed to do that, he pulled the package out into the middle of the floor and began to rip open the packaging, still wondering what it could be, when he suddenly remembered something...

It was his birthday! Of course. How could he have forgotten? He had turned sixteen that day! But then again, in between practicing defensive spells, conversing with Sirius and being tormented by nightmares, his mind was quite overwhelmed lately.

As he tore off the last bit of wrapping paper and opened the flaps of the box, he discovered a spherical object about the size of a bludger lying inside. It reminded Harry of a small desktop globe, except that the sphere that sat on the stand was not that of the Earth but something that resembled a crystal ball he'd used in Divination.

When Harry picked it up out of the box, it began to glow in a very relaxing shade of blue as tiny neon lightning bolts started to dance around inside. Harry stared in amazement. He had not seen anything like it before and therefore had no idea what it could be.

Harry grabbed his quill and some parchment and quickly sent a letter off to Dumbledore via Hedwig, asking him what the spherical glowing device was all about.

As Hedwig flew off into the evening sky, Harry noticed something else approaching his window from a distance. A few moments later, three owls fluttered into his room, carrying packages wrapped in brown paper. Harry jumped back in surprise, but when they settled onto his bed he recognized two of the owls. One was Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, who had grown noticeably. One of the others was a Hogwarts owl, which Harry recognized because Hagrid often used this particular one. Although he did not know the third owl, he figured it must have been a rented owl from Hermione. Harry's birthday presents from his friends had arrived!

Presents from Ron and Hermione, to Harry's relief, were not as mysterious as the one from Dumbledore. Ron's package contained yet another book on how to become an Auror (from Ron), an abundance of treacle tarts (made by Mrs. Weasley), a year's subscription to Quidditch Monthly (from Ginny), and a gift certificate to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes good for a year's supply of Skiving Snackboxes (obviously this one was from Fred and George). A note was attached:

Hermione had apparently decided to go with muggle gifts that year - she sent a birthday card, some nice shirts (he did not know how but she got his size right), and a walkie-talkie. Harry could not understand where she was going with the walkie-talkie, but in an attached note she wrote that she'd explain it all later. Although he could picture no conceivable use for a walkie-talkie, he decided to leave it alone for the moment..

Hagrid had sent Harry an owl grooming guide, which he was sure Hedwig would appreciate. This was by far better than Hagrid's present from the previous year - a book that had almost succeeded in biting Harry's hand off.

Harry slept surprisingly well that night, and he finally had a good dream - a first in a long time. He dreamt that he was flying on his broom, soaring high above the clouds.

Over the next few days Harry received even more presents. He even got gifts from several members of the Order, including Lupin and Tonks. This was, Harry decided, the best birthday ever, despite the fact that he was still stuck with the Durselys.

# # #

The following week was largely uneventful. Harry tried to heed Dumbledore's suggestion and did not go outside to practice magic. Instead, he stayed in his room and read the two books about becoming an Auror. The more he read, the more certain he became that Aurorship was the right career path for him. It sounded both exciting and important. Harry couldn't wait.

Any day now, the results of the OWLs would come in and he would know for sure whether he qualified to be an Auror. He knew that he hadn't done that badly on the OWLs, but kept his fingers crossed anyway. All he needed was five NEWTs to become an Auror, which for Harry, meant that he needed something above 'Acceptable' in any three subjects, an 'Exceeds Expectations' in Transfiguration, and an 'Outstanding' in Potions (from what Professor McGonagall had told him). He wasn't quite sure about Potions. It was perhaps the only OWL that he was nervous about - extremely nervous about.

On the last Friday in July, the results finally came.

Harry was having dinner at the kitchen table, while aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon were in the living room as usual, watching TV. He heard a clicking noise coming from the window and turned to see an owl perched on the windowsill. Cracking the window just high enough, Harry retrieved the rolled up piece of parchment. It was addressed to him - Harry Potter, Number Four Privet Drive, The Kitchen. He opened it quickly and found the following message:

Harry skimmed over the attached list of possible career paths. Sure enough, Auror was listed there. They must not be familiar with Snape's requirements, he thought.

He finished his dinner and went upstairs to write letters to Ron and Hermione. He would tell them about his OWL results and ask them what they thought he could do about Potions. His friends had never let him down, but Harry was uncertain how and whether they would be able to help him out of this predicament. If worse came to worst, he would have to face Snape and convince him to be in his NEWT class. He wasn't quite sure how he would do that exactly. Snape was the one Professor at Hogwarts that Harry hated most, and the feeling between them was mutual.

Snape had always held a grudge against Harry ever since he laid eyes on him. This owed to a long-lived rivalry between Harry's father, James Potter, and Snape while they were still students. Not too long ago, Harry had looked into Snape's worst memory in Dumbledore's pensieve, and that memory involved James Potter and Sirius picking on him and embarrassing his in public.

At first, Harry thought that his father was as bad as Snape made him out to be, but after talking to Sirius and Lupin, he discovered that Snape pretty much deserved everything he got.

When Harry finished the letters to Ron and Hermione, he sealed them and was going to send them out. Unfortunately, Hedwig had gone out hunting. He figured that she'd be back in a few hours and he'd send her on her way then.

Meanwhile, he picked up Sirius' diary off of his night table and sat down with it at the desk. He wanted to see what Sirius would say about his OWL grades.

Sirius' words gave Harry some encouragement as always, and they also gave him hope. Not receiving an 'O' on his Potions OWL didn't seem as daunting anymore. He would talk to Dumbledore, and Dumbledore would recognize that Harry had worked hard to achieve that 'E' and that he deserved to be in NEWT Potions. Dumbledore, he was sure, would show leniency where Snape would love to sack Harry's plans of becoming and Auror.

Feeling much better about everything, and still basking in the delight of getting so many great presents from everyone, Harry turned off the light and sank into bed. Before he fell asleep he thought he hear a distant hum coming from somewhere outside, a street lamp probably. It sounded soothing, and he fell asleep in no time. That night again he had no nightmares. He had a dream about his parents celebrating his birthday with him. He felt happy.

# # #

The following morning, Dumbledore's reply came in a very peculiar way, and the mystery of the strange spherical device was at last unveiled.

Harry had just woken up and was throwing on some pants and a shirt when he heard a strange noise coming for the bed. He directed his attention that way, but then noticed that the noise was not coming from the bed at all, but from the strange spherical device that was the present from Dumbledore. And what was more, the sphere of the device was now pulsating in rapid busts of blue light.

Warily, Harry approached the device, wondering what it was doing. But as he was certain that it wouldn't harm him since it was from Dumbledore, he did not fear it.

When he was close enough to touch it, he reached out his hand and moved it over the surface of the sphere, not letting his fingers touch it. It felt cool, and when it throbbed again with blue light he felt a wave of energy pass over his hand. Then he felt a gentle tug and was suddenly drawn to the sphere. He touched it.

Suddenly, the blue light rapidly increased in intensity, so that Harry had to turn away from the device and cover his eyes. He took a few steps back, holding his arm over his face, shielding his view from the extreme brightness. But then the light subsided and was gone.

Harry noticed something in the center of the sphere. Where before there was throbbing blue light was now an image of someone. It was a face of an elderly wizard with half-moon spectacles and a long white beard. Dumbledore!

Harry ran up to the spherical device and bent down to see better.

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore's voice was pleasantly warm and welcoming.

"Err... Hi." Harry still couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Dumbledore's head turned and he looked around the room. "Had a pleasant slumber?" The question seemed a bit leading to Harry.

"Um... yeah, I guess... um... professor Dumbledore... Thank you for the present, but... what is it?" Harry pushed his question through. He was dying to know what was going on and what this object was.

"Oh, yes," replied Dumbledore, a smile forming on his face, "how silly of me. I guess these are the troubles of being old... always forgetting the important details."

Dumbledore's image became a bit larger; his head now filled the entire sphere.

"This, Harry, is the sphere of Demsildinh... an ancient device, crafted long ago, before age of Merlin, by the Wizards of Metenur. It is an artifact of great power, possessing many magical properties. I have passed it on to you as a means of communication, as you can now plainly see."

Harry's interest was now at a peak. He wanted to know more.

"Professor, who is Demsildinh?"

Dumbledore brushed his hand down the length of his white beard. "Who was Demsildinh rather, for I am sad to inform you that he is no longer with us. Passed on when I was still in school, I'm afraid."

It was quite difficult for Harry to imagine Dumbledore back in his school days. Harry had never even seen Dumbledore without the beard.

"Demsildinh," continued Dumbledore, "was a wizard of old; one of the great wizards of Metenur, an ancient race of magi possessing great power. The Metenur could do magic even without a wand. They were the ones that defined the uses of magic and explored its boundaries.

Demsildinh was also an avid dragonslayer. Quite a disagreeable hobby, if I can say so myself. As the story goes, when Demsildinh forged this very device that is now in your possession, he imbued it with the spirit of a blue dragon - a highly magical creature..."

"A blue dragon?"Although he was quite familiar with dragons, having to get around one two years ago in the Triwizard tournament, Harry had never seen a blue dragon before.

"Yes, a blue dragon. Blue dragons were the fiercest of all, and instead of flames they breathed icy air that would freeze anything on contact. However, they are no longer in existence, I am sorry to say. And while they were, they were frequently hunted for their magic."

Although he now had a clear picture of the origins of the device now standing on his bed stand, he suspected that it could do more than just be used as a means of communication. Why hadn't Dumbledore just sent an owl or even Dobby again? Why give him this device?

"Professor, I still do not understand..." Harry tried to phrase the question in a way that wouldn't seem that he wasn't grateful for Dumbledore's gift "Why do you wish to communicate through this device as a pose to by owl? Is there any other purpose to it?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry, you surprise me. But curiosity is not a bad thing if it serves the right purpose.

The sphere of Demsildihn indeed has many other uses. Like I have said, it is a device of great power. Some of its secrets even I do not know. The reason I have chosen to communicate to you through it is that it is one of the only means of communication, which, due to its unique properties, cannot be intercepted."

Harry still couldn't figure out why Dumbledore had given him the device instead of using it for the benefit of the Order.

Frowning in thought, he said, "But, professor... I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, but... why did you give me the sphere of Demsildinh? Couldn't it be put to better use serving the Order?"

"The Order of the Phoenix, Harry, has many other ways to communicate amongst its members. Besides, it was a birthday present." Dumbledore winked at Harry. "You must trust in my judgement to transfer it into your possession. I believe that you may make good use of it in the near future.

However, you must be warned... the sphere of Demsildinh must not fall into the wrong hands. Keep it safe and always bring it with you wherever you may go..."

There was a flutter of feathers, and then Harry saw that Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, had flown into the picture in the sphere. He perched on Dubledore's shoulder and started nipping at his robes.

Dumbledore turned his attention to Harry and said, "You will have to excuse me now. As you can see, Fawkes is trying to tell me that he is overdue for his snack. If the need should arise, feel free to contact me through the sphere. You merely have to touch it and speak my name..." And with that, Dumbledore was gone.

Oh bludgers! Thought Harry. I was just about to ask him about Potions class...

# # #

Harry spent the rest of July doing what he usually did - reading his schoolbooks, sending back and forth letters to Ron and Hermione, and talking to Sirius via diary.

Both Ron and Hermione agreed with Sirius that Harry did pretty well on his OWLs. Although Hermione got all 'Outstanding' marks, she tried not to brag too much about it in her letters. This was good because Harry did not want to see Ron and Hermione have another major row. Ron managed only three OWLs. Even though he got an 'E' in Defense Against the Dark Arts, he received 'Dreadful' marks in History of Magic and Potions.

Regarding NEWT Potions, Hermione's answer was for Harry to go talk to Snape, while Ron agreed with Sirius that getting around Snape and going straight to Dumbledore was the best option. Although Hermione's plan had some merit to it, Harry was with Ron and Sirius. He didn't think that he could get Snape to budge. Snape had always tried to make his life miserable at Hogwarts.

Harry had also told his friends about Dumbledore's strange birthday present, and each one of them was in turn surprised. Not even Sirius had heard of the sphere of Demsildinh.

However, the story about the sphere seemed to have captured Hermione's interest, and she replied that she would definitely look into it and would tell him any information that she could find.

Harry kept on wondering, along with Ron, whether Dumbledore was in his right mind to have given Harry a device that supposedly held a lot of power. Harry could not imagine being a safe-keeper. If anything else, giving it to him would only attract attention. He hoped that Dumbledore had made a wise choice.

Meanwhile, he kept the device wrapped in an old t-shirt, stuffed into his trunk. He was glad that the Durselys didn't know about it because it would surely be in the trash already. Uncle Vernon especially did not like anything magical.

As Harry went down to the kitchen for dinner one Wednesday evening in early August, he noticed his cousin Dudley watching him instead of the TV from the living room.

Lately, Dudley was acting in a peculiar manner. He did not hang out with his gang as much, which was surprising in and of itself. It had been his number one pass-time for the summer. Also, Harry noticed Dudley frequently watching him with a distasteful smirk.

Aunt Petunia filled his plate and left the kitchen. At the same moment, Harry noticed Dudley leaving the house. Going out to meet with his gang, no doubt.

Harry finished his dinner and was about to head back upstairs to 'chat' with Sirius, when Dudley stormed into the kitchen. Harry looked up at him in shock. What was he doing back?

"Hey," said Dudley, his voice possessing a strange quality, "there's someone outside. Says he wants to see you."

Harry did not understand ...

"What are you going on about? Who wants to see me?"

"I don't know. Must be one of your

Yes, of course Harry knew Mundungus. He worked for the Order. But what did he want? Did he have a message? Why did he get Dudley to announce his arrival? These questions and others raced through Harry's mind.

He finally came to the conclusion that Dudley was trying to lure him out so that he and his gang could have a go at him. That would explain why he was giving him those dirty smirks earlier. 'But how did Dudley know about Mundungus?' he wondered. 'Well... he could have remebered what Mrs. Figg said after the Dementor attack last summer.' That at least made some sense.

"Where is he then?" Asked Harry.

"Waiting by Magnolia Crescent," replied Dudley, "that's where he stopped me and told me to get you."

Harry decided to go with it. His wand was in his pocket. He'd make them regret that they'd even thought of touching him.

"Why don't you lead the way."

He followed Dudley into the evening street. It was only a short walk to Magnolia Crescent, but it was getting quite dark already.

As they approached the last house on Privet Drive, Harry suddenly felt his scar start to prickle. He shrugged it off as it normally happened every now and then and continued to follow Dudley.

They turned and walked on. Magnolia Crescent was now coming into view. Harry slipped his hand down to his pocket and gripped the handle of his wand. He was ready for anything Dudley and his goons would throw at him.

When they were finally there, nothing happened that he expected to happen. Dudley's gang did not jump out at him. Instead, Dudley kept on walking.

"Hey!" called Harry, a bit confused. "Where are you going? I thought you said he was waiting around here."

Dudley stopped and turned around. "Oh, he is. But not in plain view. He wouldn't want to be spotted by normal people."

Dudley kept walking, Harry following. In a little while they reached the familiar bushes, behind which Harry used to practice magic before Dumbledore's warning.

Dudley stopped and motioned Harry into the bushes. "He's in there."

Dudley turned and walked through the bushes and into the clearing on the other side. Harry took a deep breath, took out his wand and followed.

As he emerged on the other side, he froze in his tracks, terrified by what he saw.

In the middle of the clearing stood two tall, hooded figures dressed all in black. They were wearing masks - the same masks that Harry had seen in the Ministry of Magic in June. Death Eaters!

But how could Death Eaters be here? Most of them were now in Azkaban prison. Who were they? There are a lot more of them than Harry thought.

Dudley stood on the side, the expression on his face was that of dark pleasure. Suddenly, a third hooded figure emerged from a set of bushes to the left. He was shorter than the other two and something about him was familiar, but Harry could not tell who he was.

He walked toward Dudley and waved his wand. The smirk on Dudley's face vanished and was replaced by a look of shock and surprise. "Whe... where am I?"

"He has served his purpose," said one of the taller Death Eaters in a raspy voice and swung his wand toward Dudley, who was sent flying through the bushes, hit hard by something invisible.

The disarming charm had come from the other tall Death Eater. Harry's wand was sent flying out of his hand and back through the bushes into the street. Then, before Harry could run or even react...

...He was frozen. His body feeling numb and unresponsive, he fell to the ground unable to move a muscle.

"So, this is the famous Harry Potter," said the same Death Eater who had gotten rid of Harry's wand. "Hardly believable that this boy has stood in the way of the Dark Lord for so long, wouldn't you say?" He turned to the other two Death Eaters.

"Quit toying with him, Mulligan!" commanded the shorter of the three.

"Shut up, Pettigrew!" Roared the Death Eater named Mulligan, of whom Harry had not heard until then. "I will do as I please."

"The Dark Lord wants the boy alive and unharmed. He has need for him," stammered Pettigrew. It was obvious even from Harry's perspective that the other two didn't really like Pettigrew all too much.

"How would you know what the Dark Lord wants, you coward!" the Death Eater who had not spoken yet, suddenly burst out.

Pettigrew took a step back, cowering slightly. Harry noticed that one of his hands was gone - it was the hand that had given Voldemort a new body. "No... er... the Dark Lord told me himself. He needs him to extract certain information about the prophecy."

"And why would the Dark Lord tell you his plans with the boy and not us?" Mulligan took a step towards Pettigrew.. "We were only told to bring the boy to him."

Harry felt the stunning spell wearing off. This was his chance to run. The Death Eaters were not paying him any mind, arguing amongst themselves. He had to move! But his muscles were still not responding.

He willed his legs and arms to move with every bit of strength he had left. His arms moved, as if turned on by a switch. He picked himself up off the ground and onto his knees.

His legs finally listened and Harry stumbled through the bushes. His body was still somewhat unresponsive.

"Look! Potter is running!" Harry heard Pettigrew yell. Then there were sounds of feet hitting soft ground in rapid succession. They were now chasing after him. He had to move - run as fast as he could.

A red jet of light just missed Harry's shoulder. Trying to duck out of the way, he fell to the ground again.

His wand! It was lying a few yards away. If only he could reach it.

Muligan came to a stop and fell to the ground. That didn't matter. There were two other Death Eaters right behind the first.

As quick as he could, Harry summed his strength, pulled himself onto his feet and started to run.

Two jets of red light nearly missed him again. They were gaining on him too fast. He still could not run at full speed.

He turned around and cast another impediment spell aimed at Pettigrew. It missed.

Harry suddenly remembered Dumbledore's words. I have to get to my aunt's house!

Pettigrew had recovered and sent a spell directly at Harry's chest. Harry reacted just in the nick of time. "PROTEGO!" Pettigrew's spell bounced off, doing no harm.

Harry turned and started to run toward Privet Drive. He had to make it!

He felt his legs regaining strength and picked up his pace. He was breathing fast in huge gasps of air. His heart was pounding hard in his chest. He ran like he never ran before.

He turned on to Privet Drive. Only a little more...

Harry was hit in the back, right between his shoulder blades. He felt a freezing ache spread quickly though him. He was slowing down. His legs were beginning to feel like pieces of solid lead.

He was so close... only a few houses away. If he could only get his feet to move a little more. Just a bit further...

"Get Him!" yelled a Death Eater somewhere from behind.

The spell was too strong. He felt it pulling him down, making him stop, draining him. He had to think fast. Then he remembered a spell he had practiced at D.A. meetings. This particular spell pushed objects with a lot of force. There was only one chance...

He aimed his wand at the ground and yelled, RICTUSEMPRA! The spell hit the pavement right under him and Harry was thrown off his feet into the air by the recoil. He hoped that his aim had been right.

The last thing he remembered was being thrown forward toward number four Privet Drive. Everything became dark as his consciousness waned.

# # #

Harry awoke a few hours later, his head hurting. He was lying in the Durseleys' living room. The window through which he flew was shattered. Cold wind was rushing in.

Lupin and Mad-eye Moody were standing over him. Aunt Pentunia and Uncle Vernon were standing in the hallway nearby with Dudley, who seemed miraculously unhurt. Uncle Vernon was noticeably furious. Aunt Petunia trembled in fear.

Harry tried to lift himself up but felt a sharp pain in his side and fell back down.

"Relax. Remain still," said Lupin in a concerned tone of voice. The healer should be here shortly. You have broken a few ribs."

Moody directed his attention at Harry. "Err... you're lucky to be alive, Potter. You could have killed yourself."

Harry had to tell them what had happened. But when he tried to talk, his voice came out in painful gasps. "Death Eaters... Pettigrew..."

"Shh..." Lupin halted Harry from talking. "We know. Mrs. Figg had seen it. She alerted the Order as soon as she could. I must say, you handled yourself quite well."

The healer arrived in another five minutes. She was a slender woman, probably in her mid-forties. She reminded Harry a lot of Madame Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse.

Harry's external wounds were mended by wand, but for his broken ribs he had to drink a dreadful tasting potion. It almost made him vomit.

"Harry, after you collect yourself, Professor Dumbledore would like a word with you. You may use the sphere of Demsildinh to speak to him."

Harry did not know what he was going to tell Dumbledore as he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. He swung the door closed behind him and sat on the edge of his bed. Touching the sphere with his fingertips he said, "Professor Dumbledore."

Suddenly the sphere lit up and Dumbledore's head popped into view.

"It is good to see you well, Harry. When I head the troubling news, I dispatched Remus and Alastor right away. I am glad that it was not too late."

Harry could not really speak. He simply didn't know how to reply.

"I feared that Voldemort would try to get to you in order to learn the end of the Prophecy which he had never heard. I suspect it is still driving him mad not to know. And when he discovered that he could no longer invade your mind, he resorted to other means... holding sway over your cousin in order to lure you out into the open."

"I think it best that you spend the rest of your summer at twelve Grimmauld Place. I believe that your friends are eager to see you there."

Harry only nodded. He didn't feel all too well. He knew that he had just been that close to being captured and tortured by Voldemort. How many more close calls would he have?

When Dumbledore's image vanished from the sphere, Harry began to pack his trunk. At least he'd get to see Ron and Hermione soon.