The Final Year

Chapter 1

Good Bye Privet Drive

It had been the worst summer ever, Harry thought as he threw his robes and supplies into his trunk haphazardly. It had been the first summer, in a long time that he had had to spend entirely at Privet Drive. Although Harry knew he had been confined there for his own safety, it didn't make matters any better.

He stopped packing for a moment and went to the opened second story window of his bedroom, gazing out at the velvety, midnight blue sky. This, he thought, will be my last night with the Dursleys.

There were many things Harry Potter was uncertain of in his life, but this was not one of them. He had just turned 17 and this was going to be his last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As soon as he graduated, he would be a free man. Well, not exactly free, he was still bound to the prophecy that had been revealed to him at the end of fifth year, but freer in many ways then he had ever been.

He had agreed reluctantly, at the end of term, to Dumbledore's request that he stay at Privet Drive for the entire summer. In fact, he told him point blank, that he would not be returning after graduation. Dumbledore had tried to remind him of his mother's lingering protection in the home of his Aunt, but Harry didn't care. 16 years with the Dursleys treating him as if he was something foul they had discovered on the bottom of a shoe had been quite enough. No, tonight would be his last night.

That was the only thought that had sustained him over the last few months, especially as it became apparent that neither Ron nor Hermione were going to come and visit him during the holiday break. He had felt quite alone, and had quickly begun to sympathize with how Sirius must have felt during his imprisonment at Grimmauld Place. He still couldn't believe that neither of his two best friends could take the time to come and see him, especially knowing he had not been allowed off the postage stamp-sized Dursley property in months.

It was true that Harry had been receiving regular owls from not only Ron and Hermione, but from Fred and George too, telling him how well Weasley Wizarding Wheezes was doing, but it wasn't the same. He also received occasional owls from Tonks, Lupin, and, of course, Hagrid. However, there was such a concern that the owls would be intercepted, that no real information could be sent. And since the Dursleys had permanently cemented up their fireplace (after the fiasco with the Weasleys showing up via Floo Powder), Harry couldn't even use that to find out what was going on.

His only news sources, other than muggle television and newspapers, was the Daily Prophet. That, he knew from experience, was a highly untrustworthy source. Two years ago, the Daily Prophet had refused to acknowledge all the signs that Voldemort had returned. They had instead painted Harry as some sort of raving, attention hungry, lunatic, and Dumbledore as an old codger that had finally gone off his rocker. Now, however, they had totally flipped.

Seeing sales skyrocket every time a Voldemort sighting was reported, the Daily Prophet had decided to make every inane incident out to be the work of the Dark Lord and his Death Eater followers. Harry glanced over to the bottom of Hedwig's litter strewn cage at yesterday's headline. In big bold letters it read, "HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED SUSPECTED IN STRANGE RASH OUTBREAK AT MUGGLE SECONDARY SCHOOL IN LONDON". Of course upon further reading, Harry immediately recognized the "strange rash" as merely teenage acne.

Then there had been the owls he had received a few weeks ago. One from Ron. One from Hermione. Both arriving within minutes of each other. Those owls had contained news, but it was news that had caused his heart to plummet into his stomach, and he wasn't certain why.