Harry Potter and the Reign of Darkness

Harry Potter and the Reign of Darkness

Chapter 1 - Goodbye, Privet Drive

Privet Drive. Little Whinging, Surrey. A soft, ambient glow from the streetlights covers the quiet, suburban neighborhood. The homes are well kept and nearly uniform in construction. The beating of snow white wings interrupts the peaceful evening as an owl, a peculiar sight for this sleepy neighborhood, goes unnoticed as it comes to rest on the second floor window sill of Number Four, Privet Drive, which just happens to be a boy's room. Not just any boy, however, because not every boy receives the post from an owl at two in the morning, but then again, Harry Potter isn't just any boy. Harry Potter is a wizard, and a fine one at that.

A clicking noise slowly worked Harry out of his slumber, and his eyes, blurry without his glasses, noticed a white blob perched outside his window. Scrambling out of bed, Harry quietly slid open the window and the owl scooted inside, a piece of parchment attached to its leg. "Thanks, Hedwig," Harry yawned out, the owl returning a brief coo before settling into her cage. Removing the wax mark bearing the silhouette of a Phoenix, Harry flipped open the parchment.

Harry,

I will be at the Dursleys at midnight tomorrow night. Have your things ready. Things here have been quiet. Ron and Hermione say hello. Hope all is well.

- Hagrid

Harry couldn't help but smile for the first time in days. He knew that the Order was intending on taking him back to their London headquarters before the start of his final term at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but he never thought that he'd be leaving so soon. He was particularly happy to be able to spend his birthday, only two days away, in the company of friends, a first. The Dursleys, Harry's legal guardians, never celebrated Harry's birthday with gifts or cake and ice cream. Such grand events were saved for the Dursleys' son, Dudley, a portly boy with a foul temper to match. Harry had lived with the Dursleys as far back as he could remember, and had only learned recently that his blood relation to his Aunt Petunia was the only thing that kept Voldemort from reaching him at Privet Drive. Despite the hardships the Dursleys pushed on Harry, nowhere, not even Hogwarts, was safer than living with them.

Scanning over the letter again, Harry was also surprised to hear that "things" were quiet, although Hagrid may have been trying to keep things vague for messages coming by post. The end of the past year at Hogwarts had been the hardest Harry had yet faced. The Dark Mark, the sign of the Dark Lord and his followers the Death Eaters, had risen in the sky three more times since the incident at the Quidditch World Cup. First at St. Mungo's, where two nurses were killed and the parents of fellow Gryffindor Neville Longbottom, long driven insane by the Lestranges, twisted servants of Voldemort, had been tortured at length with the Cruciatus Curse before being murdered as well. Neville had left Hogwarts for over a month as the truth about what had happened to his parents spread like wildfire around Hogwarts. Ever since his encounter with the Death Eaters at the Department of Ministries, Neville had slowly been becoming more and more confident, but even after his sabbatical, Neville was more shy and clumsy than ever. Even Snape had left him to his own devices, rarely even acknowledging his existence, a far cry better than how he usually adressed him.

The second and third incidents, however, had been at Hogwarts itself. While the first incident remains unsolved, Ron swearing that it was Draco Malfoy acting in accordance with his parents' wishes, the second time had been very real. On the final day of the term, Voldemort's loyal followers staged a coup at the wizard prison of Azkaban. The guards of the prison, vile creatures known as Dementors, pledged themselves to the service of Voldemort and released the prisoners kept within. Shortly thereafter, before a proper warning could be sent out, a swarm of Death Eaters had attacked Hogwarts itself. Throughout the siege, Harry, Ron, Hermione and other members of "Dumbledore's Army" put their Defense Against The Dark Arts training to good use. In the heat of battle, the Dark Lord himself, flanked by a legion of Dementors, appeared and confronted the headmaster and the only wizard Voldemort feared: Albus Dumbledore, who had been away at the Ministry when the attack began. As Harry had rounded the corner, he was confronted only by a flash of green. The Dementors had held down Dumbledore and Voldemort, with a chilling laugh of triumph, took his life. Harry barely remembered what happened next, but Hermione and Ron had told him that Harry had produced a Patronum so powerful that some of the Dementors actually melted before its power. Seemingly blinded and weakened by the sheer power of Harry's charm, or so his friends believed, Voldemort fled. However, the rest of his loyal Death Eaters had continued the battle. Soon, however, a distant rumble spelled doom for many of Voldemort's legion. Over the horizon marched dozens of Giants, and at the forefront marched "Prince" Hagrid and his brother, the new Gurg of the Giants, Grawp. With the assistance of the Giants, many of the Death Eaters were either captured or fled with their master, but the damage had been done. By the time the full strength of the Order had arrived, Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age and head of the Order of the Phoenix, was dead.

Harry shook himself out of his stupor and realized tears had been running down his cheek. He quickly wiped them off with his pajamas and flicked off the light, tucking the letter back in its envelope and placing it on the nightstand. Harry had wanted to attend Dumbledore's funeral with Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Order, but Professor McGonagall had flatly denied him, thinking it far too dangerous. Dumbledore's ashes had been scattered to the winds high above Hogwarts, the school he loved. Sighing, Harry tried to take comfort in the fact that tomorrow night he would be among friends. The gentle breeze that swept in over his covers soothed his skin, but his sleep would be troubled all night, much as it had been all summer, filled only with a symphony of screams as a lullaby and a flash of green in his dreams.

The next morning, Harry was awoken by the ruckus being made by his cousin Dudley as he trampled down the stairs. Despite his Aunt and Uncle's best attempts to put Dudley on a diet, he seemed to only become more and more rotund with age. Convinced that the school nurse at Smeltings was biased against their "Duddykins", the diet had been called off earlier that summer, much to Dudley's delight. As Harry brushed the sleep from his eyes and reached for his glasses, the shrill voice of his Aunt Petunia cried out.

"Harry Potter! Get down here this instant!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Harry muttered to himself. As he dressed himself, Hedwig cooed apologetically before settling back in to a well deserved rest. Harry glanced at the opened letter on his nightstand before heading downstairs, smiling briefly before forcing a blank expression on his face as he prepared to greet the Dursleys.

The crackle of bacon and a talk show argument greeted Harry as he entered the kitchen.

"Take care of the bacon, boy," Aunt Petunia spat out as she brought a mound of pancakes over to Dudley and Harry's Uncle Vernon. "Blueberry today, Duddy!" Aunt Petunia cooed.

"Oh lovely, Petunia," Vernon muttered over the top of his paper as Dudley scooped the pancakes onto his plate. "Hurry with the bacon, boy."

"Coming, Uncle Vernon." Harry placed the bacon onto a plate and put it down on the table as Aunt Petunia took her seat.

"Orange juice," she demanded.

Harry walked back over to the refrigerator and brought back the juice before taking his seat. As Harry reached for the last of the blueberry pancakes, Dudley quickly speared it with his fork and sneered.

A deep man's voice coming from the television caught Harry's attention. "We interrupt this broadcast for a special news bulletin. Escaped mental patient and suspected murderer Thomas Riddle has been sighted in the greater London area. This juv-"

"Turn that up!" Harry blurted out, his eyes now transfixed on the television screen.

"Quiet, boy!" Uncle Vernon commanded. "What's the commotion?"

"That man's a wi...." Harry's voice trailed off as Uncle Vernon's paper slowly lowered to reveal his face, veins popping out of his forehead.

"There will be no mention of your....world, boy. Is that clear?" Vernon reached for the remote control resting next to his plate and quickly changed the channel before Harry could glean any details.

Harry frowned as Dudley stuck his tongue out at him. Voldemort had been sighted in London? Harry knew that Dumbledore had alerted the Muggle Prime Minister of the danger the Dark Lord posed to wizards and Muggles alike, but Voldemort barely passed for a human. Harry glanced at the clock. It was only nine in the morning. Burying himself in his dry toast, Harry began counting the minutes to midnight when Hagrid would arrive and fill him in.

The rest of the morning passed without incident. After the breakfast dishes had been washed, Harry had shut himself in his room and quietly began to pack his things. With Dudley over at a friend's for the afternoon, he had to keep extra quiet or else his Aunt and Uncle would suspect him of being up to something, although it was the rare occasion that they didn't. At around four in the afternoon, as Uncle Vernon was attending to some light yard work, Harry noticed first one, than two police cars whiz past, sirens blaring. Harry's face was soon pressed against the window, and a few minutes later an ambulance roared by as well. Was Voldemort near by? What was the ruckus? Harry always hated being stuck at Privet Drive, but he couldn't decide if living with the Dursleys or being out of the loop was worse. When Dudley arrived home around six, he quickly made up his mind that the Dursleys were much, much worse.

Harry kept so quiet at supper that even Uncle Vernon had little opportunity to mock him. He had simply come downstairs when called, served the Dursleys, eaten quietly, done the dishes, cleaned up and headed for his room. As the lights across Privet Drive slowly went out, Harry began to get butterflies in his stomach. Hagrid would be due very soon, and then Harry could go back to the world where be belonged. As midnight showed on clock on the wall, Harry had flung open his window, Hedwig's cage and his trunk close at hand as he watched the night sky for Hagrid. Five minutes later, he noticed a single light coming up Privet Drive, which soon revealed itself to be a massive figure on a motorbike.

Hagrid came to a stop on the edge of Number Four's driveway, looking up at the Boy-Who-Lived in the window staring down at him and beckoned with a huge hand.

"Locomotor Trunk," Harry whispered out, and with a flick of his wand, the trunk began to float in the air, out the window and then glide gently over to where Hagrid idled on the bike. Harry then climbed over the window sill himself, balancing Hedwig's cage in his right hand, and dropped himself down to the right of the bushes in front of the family room window. Summer after summer of sneaking out had allowed Harry to make escaping the Dursleys an exact science. Creeping over to Hagrid, he quickly embraced his friend.

" 'ello Harry! Y'eh look real fine." Hagrid beamed at Harry, obviously pleased to see him.

"Hi, Hagrid," Harry whispered, smiling back. "Let's go home."

Hagrid removed a helmet for Harry to put on his head and then, after adjusting his flight goggles, revved the engine and sped off.

"Hold on, there, 'arry!" Hagrid belted out, and not a second later the motorbike took to the air. "Real mem'ries, this bike an' this place. S'ow I got y'eh here, y'eh know!"

Harry smiled. His godfather, Sirius Black, had told him the story of Hagrid bringing him to the Dursley's, all part of Dumbledore's plan. Now they were both gone. Hagrid had taken Dumbledore's death extremely hard. When no one believed that Hagrid hadn't opened the Chamber of Secrets during his time at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had given him a second chance. After the siege on Hogwarts, Hagrid had cradled Dumbledore's lifeless body, repeating the phrase "Great man, Dumbledore, a great man.." over and over again.

Harry squeezed Hagrid a little tighter for a moment, and Hagrid looked back with a soft smile he was famous among Harry, Ron and Hermione for. "Ron and H'mione are real excited for y'eh to be c'min back." Harry smiled even wider. Hagrid leaned back slightly and Harry moved in closer. "Ginny too." Hagrid winked. Harry pretended to ignore it.

"You said it's been real quiet lately, Hagrid? What about that report on the Muggle news tonight?" Harry said quizzically.

"Nothin' doin', 'arry. Just a false report. Y'eh know how it is."

Harry nodded solemnly. Any news on Voldemort's whereabouts was vital for the Order.

They rode on over the lights of civilization below, which grew thicker and thicker as they approached downtown London. As Harry lost himself in the lights, however, the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up on end. Under his sweater, goosebumps began to form on his skin. He suddenly realized he was cold. Very cold.

"H-Hagrid?" Harry cried out.

"I feel it t'eh, 'arry. What cou-" Hagrid stopped abruptly. Harry's vision snapped ahead of them. A silhouette, illuminated by the headlight of the motorbike had appeared and was swooping towards them. Harry knew that shape from anywhere.

Dementors. The creatures that had once guarded Azkaban prison, these vial creatures had experiences with both Harry and Hagrid. Back in Harry's second year at Hogwarts, Hagrid had been accused of opening the dreaded Chamber of Secrets. Harry had exposed Voldemort to be the true culprit, but Hagrid had spent some time in Azkaban under their careful watch before his name was cleared. Harry had also had many run-ins with the Dementors during his third year, when he and the rest of the wizarding world was convinced that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban to murder Harry. While only the Order knew the truth about his dead Godfather, Harry had struggled to protect himself and Sirius from their wretched grasp.

" 'ANG ON 'ARRY!" Hagrid cried as the bike dove towards the London rooftops.

The chill of the Dementors clung even as the wind whipped over Harry's face. The bike rode nearly straight down, but as Harry glanced behind him, he counted at least three Dementors in pursuit.

"KEEP DRIVING HAGRID!" Harry bellowed and Hagrid nodded, keeping his eyes on the obstacles ahead. Harry removed his wand from his pants, closed his eyes and began to concentrate, searching for a memory filled with joy. It was hard, especially in the wake of Sirius' and Dumbledore's death. Harry and those around him had suffered greatly. "Now is not the time for that!" Harry thought to himself, and he concentrated harder.

A vision flooded his memory, one that he had lived and relived over and over in his head. His father, James, with the same unruly black hair gazing proudly at him. His mother Lily with her arms around him. The parents he had lost were also his greatest strength.

Harry's eyes shot open and he turned, shocked to see a Dementor nearly nipping his heels. Without hesitation, Harry raised his wand into the hood of the Dementor and roared: "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A silvery, ephemeral stag leapt forward from Harry's wand and the Dementor shrieked, forcing Harry to cover his ears. The wounded Dementor quickly abandoned the pursuit, but two more were still not far behind. Harry began to level his wand at the nearest foul creature when a sudden jerk nearly threw Harry off his seat. Harry turned around to see Hagrid moving in to fly between Muggle buildings and trying to dodge the advances of another Dementor doing its best to obstruct Hagrid's vision and move in for the kill. Harry turned, pointed with his wand and yelled out, "GET HIM!" and the stag once again leapt forward, goring the Dementor with its antlers. The creature shrieked and fell away from them. Hagrid quickly pulled up to avoid crashing into a building. Harry glanced behind him, and saw that the other two Dementors had apparently given up the chase.

"I think we're in the clear, Hagrid!" Harry sighed loudly.

" Oy, I think y'eh're right, Har-" Hagrid abruptly swerved to the right. A Dementor had swooped in front of the bike and Hagrid quickly dodged, but Harry wasn't expecting the sudden jerk and was thrown from the bike, clutching his wand.

"HAAAAAAAGRID!" Harry shouted as he began to fall towards the streets of London. As he twirled in the air, hurtling towards the Earth, Harry's wizarding instincts kicked in. "ACCIO FIREBOLT!" Harry commanded, hoping his charm was powerful enough to free his broom from his chest. It was his only hope. The glittering lights of London grew more and more as Harry fell through the night, overcome with the silence of his freefall, the air rippling over his oversized clothes. As he got close to begin to distinguish person's hair color on the streets below, a whistling noise broke the night sky and Harry saw the familiar outline of his Firebolt rocketing towards him. He reached out for it with all the strain of reaching for the Golden Snitch, whispering "C'mon! C'mon!", and as he wrapped his fingers around it, Harry pulled himself over the handle and willed himself upwards, mere feet away from the pavement.

Harry rocketed upwards, his eyes searching the night for Dementors but seeing only the headlight of Hagrid's motorbike and a very relieved Hagrid riding up to him.

" 'ARRY! Are y'eh okay! I'm so sorry, 'arry. Came outta' nowheres, y'eh know. I think they've gone f'eh now. Come on, jus' slide on here."

Harry slid back on to the seat of the motorbike, looking at the back of his trunk, which had been flung open.

"I can hardly believe that worked," Harry muttered to himself.

Hagrid turned his head around to see Harry's pleasantly surprised face. "Doesn't surprise me in the least, 'arry. Not in the least."

Harry tossed his Firebolt back in his trunk after a loving pat and slammed it shut.

"Hagrid, let's go home."

"Comin' right up, 'arry. Comin' right up."