Searching for the Truth

Part Five

Harry spent most of the cab ride from the airport staring out of the window. Connie smiled, amused by his amazement. She supposed he had never gone on a trip with the Dursleys. Finally, the cab slowed to a halt. Harry could only partially see what was beyond the wrought-iron gates. As far as Harry could see, his aunt's entire property was enclosed with a large wall that was covered in ivy.

"I really should get rid of that," she noted, pointing at the ivy. "It doesn't really go with the rest of the landscaping. Well, Harry, welcome to Celestial Gardens." She pulled open the gate, and Harry could immediately tell why Connie had chosen that name. Scattered throughout the vast, manicured lawn were several fancy bushes that Connie had had shaped into crescent moons and clouds. Around the base of each bush were circular beds crowded with dark blue flowers interspersed with yellow. At the edges, silvery plants grew, giving the illusion of a misty glow. In the middle of the garden stood a large angel-shaped marble fountain, which was currently turned off.

"It's..." Harry started to say something, but found himself speechless.

"I'll take your lack of words as a compliment. Do you see the doors up there, that go onto the balcony?" Harry gazed up at the silver gray mansion and nodded. "That's my room. Yours is at the back of the house. I've got ten acres back there, nothing special, just a pool and other things, but I think you'll like the view." Harry could only stare as they made the long trek up Connie's drive. "You remind me of me when I first arrived at Hogwarts when I was thirteen. I just walked around gaping at everything."

"Aunt Connie," Harry said suddenly, pointing at the house. "If you're the only person here, why do have this huge house?" Connie's answer was only half true.

"Well, I grew up on the East Coast. After my mother died, I came into a large inheritance. I decided to sell the house and move out here. Since everything is so much cheaper in Nevada, I was able to get this place. I really don't need the space; it's really quite empty in there. But try telling anything to a stubborn sixteen year old with a load of money." By this time, the had climbed the front steps leading up to Connie's front porch, which featured six giant pillars that Harry supposed were supporting the balcony.

"I know what it's like. I have to be careful not to spend all my inheritance. I had a hard go of it when the Firebolt came out. I would stand outside Quality Quidditch Supplies and stare at it everyday." Connie giggled as she opened the tall steel doors.

"You know, I think that's the most I've ever heard you say." Harry stepped into the entrance way. After Connie had turned on the lights, Harry could see the gleaming walls, which appeared to be made of some sort of white wood. The source of light was an enormous golden chandelier, with what looked like hundreds of glass crystals hanging down. At the back of the entrance, two staircases wound down opposite walls. "Well, come on then, Harry." Connie led Harry up one of the staircases and down the hall. At the end of the corridor, Connie turned and opened a door on the right. Harry's room had to be at least twice the size of his cousin Dudley's. The walls were a warm shade of blue, and a queen-sized four poster bed stood against the far wall. The floor was hard wood, with a plush area rug over it. Harry looked around and grinned.

"This is the second-best house I've ever been in." Connie, who had crossed to the eight-foot tall window, turned to face Harry.

"I know," she groaned, "this place is so sterile. Sometimes I can't even stand it. But does Ron's room have a view like this?" As she was speaking, Connie drew the dark blue curtains. Harry looked out. Beyond miles and miles of flat Nevada land, Harry could see the sun setting, turning the sky a deep blue, orange, and red. "When it gets dark out, you can see Las Vegas," she added.

"Are we going there?" Connie laughed.

"Maybe when you turn twenty-one. You're a little young to be gambling yet." They stood looking at the sunset in silence for a while. "Do you know anything about horses, Harry?" When he answered no Connie continued. "Well, it's about time you started learning. We'll start tomorrow. So how 'bout a tour of the house?"

"Good idea. Otherwise I might get lost."

"You manage to get around Hogwarts, don't you? Celestial Gardens isn't nearly as big. We'll start with the bedrooms. Then we can decide where to put Ron and Hermione when they come." Besides Harry's and Connie's, there were six other bedrooms to see, all in different colors.

"How 'bout putting Ron in the red room?"

"Are you serious?" asked Harry, "We'd never find him in there. He'd blend right in."

"Maybe we'd better let them pick their own rooms," Connie said, laughing. "Though I'd love to see the expression on Hermione's face if we put her in the tan room, with the leopard prints." Next, Connie disclosed the locations of the five bathrooms. The master bath included a whirlpool tub big enough for four people. "Lucky for me, this place was built by a celebrity of some sort. I got a lot of extras, like that tub. It's awesome." After touring the upstairs, they went back down stairs.

"You have a piano in the den," observed Harry, "and now in the living room, you have an organ. I don't think you have these here for decoration."

"I don't play as much as I used to," replied Connie, "But once in a while I get the urge to just let loose. It's kind of like therapy for me. I also play guitar."

"I never knew that."

"There's a lot that you don't know about me, and vice versa. But we have all summer to learn."

"Lupin said I was named after you."

"You were. He was there when your parents decided on it. He had the happiest look on his face when he heard my full name was Constance Harriette Longsworth. I thought he'd never stop making fun of me." Connie opened the last door, which led into the kitchen. Of course, Harry had already seen it, but after seeing the rest of Celestial Gardens, he saw it in a whole new light. The kitchen didn't fit the rest of the house at all. Every other room had almost a contemporary décor, while the kitchen was country. Harry glanced around at the oak cabinets and trim, the blue flowered curtains and wall paper, and rested on the butcher block table. He blinked his eyes.

"The office chairs don't exactly fit, but for some reason, my guests all migrate in here, so I got comfortable chairs. I'm used to the staring, don't worry."

"You are the most...I can't even find the word...person I've ever met. I mean that in a good way though," he added quickly.

"I get that a lot. No one can describe me beyond the physical attributes. Thanks, anyway. Are you hungry? I can fix us something."

"Sure, Aunt Connie. What do you feel like?"

"What do you want? You're the guest. And don't say whatever I want."

"Crisps, I guess."

"In American, please."

"Potato chips."

"You got it. I can't believe we speak the same language and we can't understand each other sometimes." Connie dug into her pantry and came out with a bag of chips, then conjured some onion dip. Then Harry pointed to a door off to the side.

"Where's that door go to, Aunt Connie?" He knew very well where it led to, but decided to ask just in case she was on to them breaking in.

"That's the basement. Now, listen, I don't care what you do, or where you go, you've had enough oppression at those monsters Dumbledore calls your relatives. But the one thing I'm asking of you is to stay out of the basement. Don't ask questions about what's down there. It's something I'd rather leave dormant."

"At least for now?" Harry asked hopefully. Ever since Remus had told him about Connie, he had been eager to hear his aunt sing.

"No. It's been dormant too long, and it's staying that way." Harry knew the subject was closed.

"Tell me more about you and my parents."

"Well, the first student I met at Hogwarts was your mother. She tried from the first to make me feel welcome. We hit it off right away. Due to uncontrollable circumstances, I didn't meet your father until a few days later. We shared the prankster mentality."

"What do you mean?"

"The first time I met Jay was in Hogsmeade. My friend Frank and I had spent the day playing jokes on people. One particular wizard, I planted a large booger on his nose. When we had met up in the pub, he mentioned it, and of course Frank and I started laughing. When I told him about it, he said, 'I like her.' We put numerous plans together, but we never did get around to pulling them off."

"Was that all there was to your relationship? Pranks?"

"No. This was well before I'd even thought about us being related of course, but we did share a special bond. I wouldn't even be here right now if it hadn't been for your father. He saved my life once."

"You mean like Snape?"

"Yes. From the same person."

"Professor Lupin?"

"Yes, it was the night I found out about Ray being a werewolf. I had been in the Forbidden Forest, knocking down trees trying to work through a power surge."

"Power surge? What's that?"

"Well, you know how I do magic with my hands?" Harry nodded. "When I get very angry, I get a power overload. I get a build up of extremely powerful magic, but destructive. I can break a wand from ten feet, and level Hogwarts with the slightest movement. Anyway, there I am, with my hands all glowing, and I hear this noise. I turn around, and there's Ray, only I don't know it's him. I was so scared I forgot I had powers, forgot I was an Animagus, forgot everything. So then this deer shows up, and fights the werewolf. The deer gets knocked out, so I'm like 'I'm gonna die' but then I remember that I was a witch. So I throw poor Ray against a tree. Then I healed the deer. I have healing powers. Then the deer gets up. I look at it, and I see your father in the deer. I'm like 'Jay?' and he turns into himself."

"They called my father 'Jay'?"

"No, only I did. It was my nickname for him. I had names for everyone, except for Sirius."

"That's some story. Do you have anymore?"

"Oh yeah, I've got loads." The reminiscing lasted until well after one in the morning. "OK Harry, I know it's summer, but I'm tired. Besides, I've gotta teach you about horses tomorrow." Harry went to sleep feeling like he had just heard the legacy left behind at Hogwarts by his parents and their friends. He had always heard a brief mentioning or two, of course, but never any details.

It was about eleven am when Connie opened the door to her private stables. Inside, one could find horses of every breed. The one at the very back, however, caught Harry's attention. It had a beautiful glossy black coat, but that wasn't what made it so interesting. The horse had giant wings folded at its sides.

"Like the Thestral, do you Harry? Many wizards consider them unlucky, but I've had no trouble with Blaze. Don't think you're riding him today, though. I'm going to start you off with...Stella. She's that reddish-one over there."

"But I've ridden a Hippogriff. Why can't I ride the flying horse?"

"Who put you on a Hippogriff and had you flying around?" she asked as she pulled a saddle down from the wall.

"Hagrid, in Care of Magical Creatures, our first lesson, in third year."

"I should have known. I suppose he didn't realize he could have broken your neck?"

"Right after, the same Hippogriff I was riding slashed Malfoy's arm open. He almost got fired because of it." Connie laughed.

"Of course, it's never funny when a person almost loses his job," she lectured Harry. "It's just funny when a little rat nearly loses his arm. I really dislike that kid."

"You and me both. Er, how d'you get on this thing?"

"Oh, right. Put your foot in the stirrup, and throw your other leg over." Harry easily accomplished this. "Right. Stay here Stella. I've gotta saddle up my own horse. Mr. Potter, I shall return." Connie added the last line with a dramatic flair. She returned some minutes later on a white horse. "This is Bryce. What you've got here is an English-style saddle, reins, etc. I'm teaching you English riding."

"Does this have anything to do with my being English?"

"No, it's just a lot easier to learn. By the time Ron and Hermione get here, you'll be riding western. I'm a good teacher."

"So when Ron and Hermione are riding western, I'll be riding the Thestral."

"Will you give it a rest with the damn horse already? Pick up the reins. Hold them with your thumbs and middle fingers. Keep them even at all times. Pull your right hand to go right, your left hand to go left, and pull both back to stop."

"How can I stop the horse when I don't even know how to get it started?"

"Good point. To start the horse, just give it a kick in the stomach. Don't worry about hurting her, or you'll never get anywhere. Show Stella who's boss, Harry." Harry gripped the reins, and tried to remember steering Buckbeak when he had rescued Sirius from the Dementors. To his great surprise, he managed to get Stella to do what he wanted.

"I'm doing it," he exclaimed.

"You sure are," Connie replied, amazed. "Maybe Hagrid was getting at something with the whole Hippogriff thing. You're a natural, Harry."

"So can I ride the Thestral?"

"We'll see, Harry, we'll see." They spent an enjoyable afternoon riding through Connie's ten acres. It was about three in the afternoon when they finally dismounted.

"I never knew horseback riding involved muscle. I hurt in places I didn't even know I had." Harry was walking a bit bow-legged.

"Maybe I shouldn't have taken you out so long. We were riding for about four hours." She glanced at Harry's jeans. "Harry, I know baggy pants are the style, but I think you're over-doing it a little. I'm surprised they're staying up."

"Well, it happens when you get hand me downs from your cousin who's four times your own size," Harry said glumly.

"I take it the Dursleys refused to spend more money on you than was necessary," Connie said sharply. "Don't worry about it, tomorrow I make up for all the missed birthdays and Christmases."

"Can we ride to the mall?"

"It's one hundred miles away. It'd take us two days to get there. I've got a car, we're taking that." Early the next morning, Connie opened her garage. Inside, Connie had a silver convertible.

"Awesome," Harry breathed. "This almost makes up for not letting me ride Blaze."

"I'm not trying to make up for that," she said as they clambered in. "Buckle up," she added, "I drive fast." They reached the mall in one piece after streaking down the highways at eighty miles an hour.

"Hermione would be angry at you for that," Harry speculated.

"I suppose she would. But you can never know for certain unless you try," she responded mischievously.

"You wouldn't," Harry dared.

"It won't kill her. She needs to lighten up a little. I'm just going to help her in the process."

"She's lightened up a lot since I've known her. When we first met, Ron and I couldn't stand her. She was such a bossy know-it-all."

"And she's not now?" Connie asked, eyebrows raised.

"Well, she's not as bossy."

"I'll take your word for it. Here we are. You're not five anymore, so I'm not going to dress you. I need to pick up a few things, so I'll just get that over with, and meet you back here later. Go wild, you deserve clothes that fit, and I'm behind on birthday presents." She strode off, leaving Harry to his own devices. He amused himself coming up with odd combinations for a while before grabbing things in his size and throwing them in a shopping cart he found. Connie returned a bit later, and pointed out that since Nevada got so hot, it might be better if he got a few pairs of shorts as well.

"Central air is good for inside, but I'm not letting you stay in all summer. When it hits 100 degrees in the shade you'll thank me." They ate a late lunch at the food court then drove home.

"Thanks a lot, Aunt Connie."

"Don't mention it. It was the least I could do." Harry and Connie spent the next week or two going to movies, horseback riding, and many other things. Harry had a lot of fun, but was beginning to grow anxious for his friends' arrival. Two weeks before his sixteenth birthday, he decided to ask his aunt when they were coming.

"I know, it's boring always hanging around with the same person. Actually, I just sent owls over a few days ago. They'll be here soon. Just try to bear it a few more days, ok?" It was early in the morning a few days later when Connie's fireplace spontaneously burst into emerald flames. Seconds after, a human shape appeared in the fire.

"Hello Mr. Weasley," Connie rushed forward to shake his hand. Mr. Weasley had no sooner released Connie's hand when Ron popped out.

"Ah, great to be ba-umm here at last," he finished brightly. He had nearly let slip about the Easter Holidays.

"Are you so glad to be rid of us, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley now stepped from the fire place. Connie shook Mrs. Weasley's hand as Hermione appeared in the fire.

"Hello," she glanced around the living room. "Harry! Your clothes fit!"

"Oh yeah. I took the liberty of catching up on birthday presents. Those Dursleys shouldn't be considered proper guardians." Mrs. Weasley must have had the same feeling, as she smiled broadly at Connie.

"So you really are Harry's aunt? I've heard so much about you. And I must say, Fred and George's Defense Against the Dark Arts grades were the best ever. You really got through to those two."

"I'd heard a lot about them before term, I was a bit worried. But they paid such close attention, and never caused a speck of trouble."

"Yeah, that's because they had a crush on you," Ron burst in. Everyone laughed.

"So, are you two staying the day?" Connie asked the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley noticed the look and her husband's face when he saw the television and VCR.

"We might as well, thank you. Arthur has a great interest in Muggle things."

"Of course. Let's go get those two settled in their rooms." Everyone except for Mr. Weasley (who was too busy examining the lamps) went upstairs. Connie opened the third door on the right. "This is Hermione's room. It has an adjoining bathroom. I figured we wouldn't have to worry about anyone bursting in on you." Hermione's room was pale green.

"It's nice. I love the color," she said. She deposited her bags by the foot of her bed. The party then meandered down the hall to Ron's room, which was directly across from Harry's.

"It was Harry's idea. He said you'd like it," explained Connie.

"I do, it's the Chudley Cannons' colors," Ron breathed in awe. "Thanks Harry."

"Don't mention it. Hermione should thank me too. She almost got the leopard room."

"I thought she would have liked it," Connie said defensively.

"I like the one I've got very much. Especially for the private bath."

"You know, Aunt Connie, that isn't quite fair."

"I have five bathrooms. Take your pick." The group spent an enjoyable afternoon touring Celestial Gardens. Mrs. Weasley admired the horses, but looked a little worried when Connie mentioned that the children would be learning to ride. However, she trusted Connie enough that she didn't leave any warnings when she and Mr. Weasley Disapparated back home that evening.

"All right, now the fun begins," Ron said excitedly.

"I don't think so," Connie said seriously. "You're spending the summer doing schoolwork." Ron looked at her incredulously. Hermione looked as though she'd died and gone to heaven.

"Where's the Floo powder? I'm going home." Connie burst out laughing.

"Got ya! What do you three want to do tomorrow, horseback riding or amusement park?"

"Can I ride that flying job?" Ron asked.

"Absolutely not."

"Amusement park, then."

"I'll say amusement park too," Hermione said, looking at Ron. "What about you, Harry?"

"It's unanimous. We're going to the amusement park." Connie woke them early the next morning. It was a long way to the park, as it was with nearly everything in Nevada.

"The only thing I miss about the East Coast is how close everything is. It can be a pain getting someplace."

"Then why do you live out here?"

"Well, Ron, it may be inconvenient, but it's dirt cheap. The house I had back there was about a third of the size of Celestial Gardens, and about a hundredth of the yard space."

"Connie, could you please slow down!" Hermione yelled.

"Sorry, can't hear you. I'll go faster, then you can tell me when we get there." Connie quickly increased her speed to ninety. When Hermione climbed out of the car, weak kneed, she turned to Connie.

"I asked you to slow down," she said as politely as possible.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Connie replied, choking down a laugh, "I won't go so fast on the way home." Harry pulled Ron closer so he could whisper in his ear.

"She did that on purpose. She knew Hermione wouldn't like it. I didn't think she'd dare do it, though."

"We should have done the horses instead," Ron whispered back. Hermione wouldn't go on any of the roller coasters, so Harry, Connie, and Ron all took turns sitting out. It was after Harry and Connie got of a particularly wild one that they found Ron and Hermione kissing on a bench. Harry gaped at them, then turned away, blushing. Connie sensed the awkwardness and led Harry to a nearby gift shop. There, Connie tried to cheer Harry up by making fun of some of the merchandise, but Harry was only half listening. He was very quiet for the rest of the day. He's just like me when I'm upset, Connie thought. I don't think he's in love with Hermione, so what's bothering him? I'll have to talk to those two later.

Conveniently, Harry went up to bed almost as soon as they got home. As per usual, Ron, Hermione, and Connie migrated into the kitchen. Connie wasted no time with hinting around.

"So, how long have you two been a couple?" Ron and Hermione looked aghast at her. Hermione finally answered.

"Since right after Christmas."

"And you never thought of telling Harry, why?" Ron fielded that question.

"We always meant to, but never knew how to tell him." So that's why he's upset, Connie thought. He didn't know.

"You could have talked to me about it, you know. Lots of students ask for advice."

"Now that you've said that, it seems obvious."

"Of course it does, Ron. Now, I suggest that the two of you just talk to Harry tomorrow. Tell him the truth. And one more thing. You are both to stay in your own rooms. I don't need any little Granger-Weasleys running around."

Harry's mood lifted the next morning when Connie informed him that she would be teaching him western-style riding that day. Connie yanked open the door to the stables.

"Ok, Harry, do you want Stella again?" Harry nodded. "Right. Now, I'm riding Bryce. Ummm...Ron, see that yellow-gold one? That's Argon, he's yours. Hermione, I'll give you...the gray...her name is Morgan."

"D'you think it's a coincidence that my horse's name sounds like Filch's?" Ron asked Harry. He didn't answer. Connie had shown him how to saddle the horse, and he instead crossed to get the saddle he normally used.

"No, Harry, that's an English saddle. You want a western," Connie explained.

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes, but for unexplainable reasons. It's strange; one would use a different saddle for a white horse than for a brown one."

Harry didn't quite get the hang of one-handed riding that day. However, he was pleased to see that Ron and Hermione had had difficulty riding two handed. Connie noticed his smugness as he dismounted. She pulled him aside.

"You know, Harry, if you had blond hair I could easily mistake you for Malfoy," she whispered in his ear, "Try not to be so smug." An ocean away, the real Draco Malfoy walked into his father's study.

~

"You wanted to see me, Father?" Lucius Malfoy stood up.

"Draco, the Dark Lord needs information. Do you have any idea where Potter is staying this summer?" Draco sneered.

"Probably with those Muggles Dumbledore sent him to."

"Do you think he's fool enough not to look there?" Lucius glared at his son.

"I heard a rumor that he went to America with the Dark Arts witch."

"Why would he go with her for the summer?"

"She's supposed to be his long lost aunt or something. Apparently, old man Potter had an affair and had Longsworth."

"How can you be sure?"

"It's just a rumor. If you want to know so badly, ask Professor Snape. If he doesn't know, ask someone else."

"You idiot. Professor Snape is working against the Dark Lord. He will not give us information leading to where Potter is hiding, much less the existence of another Potter. No, there must be another way. Oh yes, I know who we can contact." He chuckled evilly. "Go, Draco. I've business to attend to." Oh, yes, I'll find you, Potter, he thought sinisterly. Then the Dark Lord will do away with you and your aunt, and I will move up in the fold. I will be second in command. The Malfoys will be all powerful, and we can do away with those damned Weasleys. He chuckled even louder and Disapparated.

~

Harry was lying on his bed moping when a knock came at the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's Aunt Connie, can I come in?"

"Sure, hold on, I'll unlock the door." Harry sprang from his bed and crossed to his door. Connie was standing on the other side, along with Ron and Hermione.

"Harry, you'll have to forgive my deception, but you three have to straighten things out. No one is getting out of here until you've at least aired all the dirty laundry." He's just as stubborn as I am, she thought as she shut the door behind her. In the room, Harry turned to his friends.

"You heard Aunt Connie, start airing," he said bitterly.

"Harry, you don't understand," Hermione pleaded, "It just happened. One day, you were at Quidditch practice, and we just looked at each other, and there it was."

"How long were you planning on keeping it from me?"

"We never knew how to tell you. It seemed kind of weird to just be like, 'Hey Harry, guess what happened while you were at Quidditch? We decided we want to be a couple'."

"Ron's right, Harry. Try to see it from our point of view. We didn't want you to feel like a third wheel."

"So you decided not to tell me because you didn't want to make me feel bad."

"That's not it at all," Hermione began. Harry interrupted her.

"You know, if you were having trouble deciding how to tell me, you could have asked Aunt Connie for help. That's what any decent friend would have done. Now get out." Ron and Hermione left the room and went somberly down to the kitchen. Connie had plopped herself down with a cup of tea.

"Didn't go to well, did it?" She indicated for them to help themselves.

"No. We told him everything, but he said we weren't good friends then told us to get out," Hermione explained.

"You're not bad friends, just protective of his feelings. He'll get over it; I wouldn't be to worried. He's just as stubborn as I am. Give him a few days."

~

Frank Baynes sat up suddenly in bed. He had heard a strange noise. He grabbed for his wand as he planted his feet on the floor.

"Frank, where are you going?" asked a sleepy voice.

"I heard a noise, Sheila, go back to sleep. I'm just going to go check it out just to be safe."

"Be careful, Frank," Sheila responded as she quickly returned to her undisturbed slumber. Frank lighted his wand and crept down the hallway. He saw the light on in his kids' room. What in bloody hell are they doing up at one in the morning, he thought. He opened the door.

"I thought I told you blighters to go to sleep..." he started. His kids were bound up and floating near the ceiling. Standing below them was a stranger in a hood and mask. He turned his blind face to Frank.

"Where is Longsworth?" he hissed.

"Who are you, what are you doing here?"

"I'll ask you again, Baynes. Where does Longsworth live?"

"Why do you want to know?" Frank recognized this man as a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's henchmen. If he told him where Connie was, he was sure she'd be in danger. But why he wanted Connie, he wasn't sure.

"Because I'm under a powerful master. And I'm asking you again, and if you don't answer, your children die. Where is Longsworth?" This cost Frank every ounce of courage he had, but he had no choice in the matter. Connie can handle herself, he thought.

"She's at her house in America."

"Where is it?"

"I've never been there, I don't know where it is," Frank pleaded, "Don't hurt my children, please. If you're not satisfied, kill me."

"One more question, Baynes. Is the Potter boy with her?"

"I don't know. I haven't talked to her for almost a year."

"For that I'll need to ask one more question. Is the Potter boy her nephew?"

"She mentioned it once, yes he is." The Death Eater chuckled. He snapped his fingers, and Frank's children were returned to their beds. Then he turned on Frank.

~

Dumbledore opened the letter that had just been delivered. As he read, his eyes widened in horror. He seized parchment and a quill and furiously wrote a letter.

'Dear Connie, I've just received an owl from Frank. He was attacked by a Death Eater in his home. He let slip information about you and Harry. Voldemort almost certainly knows Harry's with you, and that you are a Potter. He knows you are in America. Take every precaution necessary to ensure Harry's protection. I'll be in touch soon. Albus Dumbledore.' He rolled the letter and tied it to the leg of his Phoenix, Fawkes. As Fawkes soared out he window, he thought out loud, 'I hope it's not too late.'

~

Lucius Malfoy knelt down and kissed the hem of his master's robes.

"Master, I've located the Potter boy. He's in America, with his aunt."

"I thought I was rid of her years ago, well before I killed her brother," Voldemort thought to himself. "Where is the house?" he asked Lucius sharply.

"I don't know the exact location, Master."

"Well, well, we shall soon find out. Where are those friends of yours, Wormtail?" Peter Pettigrew trembled as he spoke to his master.

"I suspect that they are at the werewolf's, Master. I know where he lives."

"Good. They will lead us right to our young friend, and his aunt. We'll pay them a little visit, won't we Wormtail? They'll soon learn, no body can hide from Lord Voldemort. Especially when I now have the upper hand." The Dark Lord threw his head back and laughed maniacally.