Harry Potter and the Violet Chain

Chapter One

Harry woke up breathing heavily, cold sweat dripping down his forehead. He looked around and saw the familiar room of Four Privet Drive. He looked out of the window and saw the starry sky, Privet Drive quiet and still.

He wiped his sweat with a brush of his hand. He had a bad dream. He had been having bad dreams nearly every night since he got back to Privet Drive. Harry was a wizard who learnt all his wizardry skills from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was summer now, so he was back with his only relatives, the Dursleys.

The Dursleys were muggles, or non-magical people. They hated anything different from normal, including Harry. They tried to pretend that Harry was normal until Harry's eleventh birthday when he learnt that he was a wizard and went to Hogwarts.

This summer had been slightly different from the other summers Harry had. The Dursleys did not lock Harry's school stuff in the cupboard under the stairs like they normally do until last year, to forget about magic. But it was not because they we afraid of Sirius, Harry's godfather, who was also a sought after criminal on-the-run. They knew that Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts was keeping a close eye on Harry this summer, and they had enough brains in their head to know not to mess with him.

A few months ago, Lord Voldermort had risen in front of Harry's eyes, using Harry's blood, and tried to kill Harry. Harry escaped, just barely, and everyone knew that Lord Voldermort would do anything to get hold of Harry.

Since then, Harry was having nightmares and images of Voldermort or death-eaters came bursting into his room. It was not that he was afraid of them, but he was worried that he could die without having a chance to defend himself.

He tried to go back to sleep. He knew that he would be safe in Four Privet Drive, Dumbledore had assured him that. But then, he was not even safe at Hogwarts, but he knew Dumbledore never had wanted anything to happen.

Harry glanced at the calendar on the wall, which he ticked off day by day until it was time to go back to Hogwarts. Nine more days, he would be going back for the fifth year. Half his heart dying to go back, the other half was afraid to see what was waiting for him there. He had enough nightmares of Voldermort taking over Hogwarts to last him a lifetime.

But then again, he kept reminding himself, Hogwarts was the only place he wanted to be in. Professor Dumbledore was there, and his best friends would be there. He would rather die near his friends than in Privet Drive with the Dursleys.

His best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had written very frequently to Harry this summer. They knew each other so well, that even through writing, Ron and Hermione knew that Harry needed company. They could not come to him, so the best they could do was to write loads of owl posts.

Their letters were always fun to read. They mentioned nothing of the sad things that happened or going to happen. Hermione kept talking about her holidays and her homework and how much she needed to read as OWL's (Ordinary Wizarding Level) next year. Ron's were more entertaining. As he had so many siblings, there were always something funny or absurd that happened in the Weasleys. Fred and George playing practical jokes on Percy, Bill bringing home a girlfriend whom Mrs. Weasley liked more than she liked Bill, which got Bill all jealous. Harry knew that every time they wrote, they tried to make Harry happy, and he was very glad for their effort.

He had fewer letters from Sirius though, as he was hiding, Harry supposed, and his letters took quite a long while to be sent and replied. He knew that Sirius was busy helping out Dumbledore and he was even glad to receive only paw prints from his godfather, as a note to say that he was alive and well.

There was one thing which Ron wrote that was not making him very happy, though. Every time, at the end of his letter, Ron would write:

Mom had written to ask for you to stay at the Burrow. Will let you know when there's a reply

After about a month, it was:

I think it will be soon they will reply, Harry. They didn't say no, just not the right time yet!

And recently:

I'm sorry, Harry, Don't know what is holding them back. Dad's pushing them, though.

Harry was not mad at Ron, or the Weasleys or the Ministry. He knew that everyone was worried about his safety, and it was best for everyone that he stayed at Privet Drive. He would probably endanger the Weasleys if he was to go to the Burrow. No one was safe with him, especially now that Voldermort had risen. He would probably kill anyone out of his way to reach Harry. His heart sank when he thought of Cedric Diggory, who died because he was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Cedric died because he was with him, Harry Potter. No matter how everyone told Harry, how it was not his fault, that no one ever wanted that to happen, Harry could never accept that. He did not blame himself, but he could never get rid of the fact that Cedric died because he asked Cedric to lift the Triwizard Cup with him.

Harry tossed and turned for the whole night as he could not get back to sleep. Before he knew, the sun was creeping through his window. He thought it would be better for him to go down for breakfast since he could not get another wink. He stood up and stretched, and then he heard a flutter of wings entering his room from the window.

'Pig!' cried Harry, as a palm-sized owl fluttered excitedly near Harry's shoulder. Pig was Ron's owl, a present from Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, back in year three.

Harry quickly untie the post and brought Pig to Hedwig's cage, Harry's white, snowy owl, for a drink. Harry unscrolled the letter and read:

Hi Harry!

Guess what? We will pick you up tonight! The ministry finally replied and all cleared! Dad and I will come in the ministry's car (part of the agreement of your stay, tell you more when you are here) at 7pm. Tell your uncle that he need not worry about opening up the fireplace!

Love,

Ron

Harry quickly wrote a quick reply and sent Pig back to Ron. He then changed and tucked his letter safely in his pocket grinning from ear to ear. He had never felt so light for a long time. He was so happy that he nearly skipped down to the kitchen.

The sight of Harry with a grin on his face seemed to trigger the angry fuse of Uncle Vernon's, which was left dormant for quite some time already. He barked at Dudley, Harry's cousin, for eating too much grapefruit, snapped at Aunt Petunia for giving Dudley too much, and shouted at Dudley for not touching his grapefruit.

Uncle Vernon did not find fault with Harry. Or rather, Uncle Vernon pretended that Harry was not there at all, or invisible. Harry could come in to the kitchen and eat anytime he liked, wander around the house or watch any television programs - no one would stop him or be in his way. The Dursleys would just walk away at the sight of him.

Harry did not care if they gave him any attention at all. He knew that Professor Dumbledore had told them about his near-death experiences, though camouflaged with the word 'accident'. Harry could not imagine what their reactions would be if they knew that Harry was the 'most wanted' by the most powerful dark wizard of their time. Harry knew that deep inside, the Dursleys were hoping that Harry was killed in one of the 'accidents', but they did not show any signs of that and instead, contented to leave him alone. Harry was grateful for that as he needed those times to pick himself up and recover from all the things he had been through.

Harry cleared his throat and said 'I have something to tell you.'

The Dursleys stopped doing what they were doing before Harry talked, in unison. A piece of grapefruit was hovering in midair at the end of a fork, a few inches from Dudley's wide, opened mouth.

'I'll be going to Ron's house tonight,' continued Harry, as none of them seemed to be moving. 'They are coming by car, not the fireplace,' added Harry quickly when he saw the horrified look on Uncle Vernon's.

'What time?' snapped Uncle Vernon, shifting at his seat uneasily.

'After dark, at seven tonight,' said Harry. He could see that Uncle Vernon's face eased a little bit.

Uncle Vernon picked up his coffee and took a sip. Aunt Petunia continued cleaning the dishes and Dudley stuffed the grapefruit into his mouth. Harry took all the actions as a 'yes' to his leaving the house that night.

At 6.30, Harry took all his belongings to the foot of the stairs. He had to make a couple of trips as he had a huge trunk, some parcels which could not fit in the trunk, a broomstick and a cage with Hedwig in it. Even though Harry had grown taller and stronger, and he could now carry his trunk without dragging it, to manage all at one go was still too much. Unless he could use magic. But he could not, just like all Hogwarts students during the holidays.

Harry had barely sat down on the steps, when there was a knock on the door. His heart leapt and lifted as he waited for Uncle Vernon to walk to the door to let him out. Uncle Vernon emerged from the living room, looking ghastly but calm.

'Early this time,' he muttered to himself. Harry could see Dudley's belly sticking out of the living room door. He bet that Aunt Petunia was hidden by Dudley's frame, and both of them were too shaken to come to the door.

Harry leapt to his feet as Uncle Vernon unlocked the door and held it back.

'Arrggggghhhhh!'

Harry stood frozen on the last step of the stairs. He wanted to shout like Uncle Vernon but he could not find his voice. Standing at the door, was a tall figure in a dark grey cape, its hood shadowed most of the face.

And he was holding a wand.