Harry Potter and the Changing Curse

The Great Escape

August 3

"Welcome to tonight’s meeting of The Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said with his magically amplified voice. He looked over the seated crowd. He took in all of the familiar faces including Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Sirius, Remus Lupin, and Arabella Figg.

"We have gathered tonight because Voldemort has been extremely quiet. I only wish that we knew what he is planning. I have a plan but it’s risky of course. I am still waiting for the intelligence reports from Mundungus Fletcher. Who should have the inner circle reports on the Death Eaters anytime now. We have been playing the defensive for far to long, it’s time we turn to offensive techniques…" and so he went on.

Later that night, after the meeting…

"Have you heard anything from Mundungus?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"He's dead, and so are the others who were sent on that particular mission, I just received word," Dumbledore replied with a saddened voice.

"Oh no! That can't be, we had just communicated with him this morning and he was just about to go through with the operation…" Minerva rambled on as if she had every answer as to why he couldn't be dead.

"He is Minnie, and we'll just have to accept it, soon more than ever will we need Mr. Potter's help."

"Albus, what if Voldemort were to try to take Harry during this summer? Then where would we be?" she asked in a worried tone.

"It has been taken care of Minerva, Arabella will see to that," he replied.

Professor McGonagall seemed to regain some of her composure. "Well then when will we tell the boy of our plans for the Order?" she asked for the umpteenth time that day. "You know that we need his help to defeat the Dark Lord, and the only way is if he joins us. The Order of the Phoenix was established for the purpose of defeating the dark arts, and Potter has as much experience as any of us," she stated in a commanding tone.

Albus Dumbledore looked his Professor over and simply said, "When the time comes Minerva, when the time comes."

Meanwhile…

Harry couldn’t stop running. He looked back and saw those red venomous eyes. He could sense the evil behind him, and wanted to put as much distance between him and whatever Voldemort wanted to do to him. He felt the pavement slapping at his bare feet, and the freezing cold air hitting his face like shards of glass digging into his skin. He was terrified. He knew he couldn’t do anything but keep running, and run he did. He was running faster than he thought was possible for him, but no matter how fast he ran, he heard that high pitched laugh right behind him.

He reached the house on number four Privet Drive, his scar began to burn so badly that he couldn’t take the pain and fell to the ground.

Harry hit the hard wood floor next to the bed. His breathing was shallow and he was sweating profusely. He realized he must have been dreaming and had fallen out of bed. For some reason, he was still in his robes, thinking he just forgot to take them off he looked around. That wasn’t his bed. And this wasn’t his room.

Harry shook off the wave of sleepiness and shoved on his glasses and immediately went searching for his wand. He looked under the bed, in the drawers, even in the trunk by his bed, but nowhere was it to be found. Oh no, he thought, I’m doomed. "Wait a second," he said aloud and looked at the trunk again. That was his trunk!

He headed toward the door of the bedroom and found that it was being opened by a little old woman holding a wand in each hand. Harry was startled for a second then recognized her, "Ms. Figg?" he asked.

"I’m glad you’re awake. You had quite a fall last night," she stated this in a matter-of-factly tone. "You are very lucky that I came along when I did Mr. Potter. Wand in hand, an Amplus Bag full of wizarding things, what would the muggles have thought if they found you?" she continued muttering about the youth of today.

"Oh yeah," Harry felt completely stupid, "Thanks for…" and then it hit him. "Ms. Figg, if you know about all of that… you must be a witch," he stated, his mouth hanging open.

"Well I should hope so," Ms. Figg growled in her usual fashion. "If I wasn’t, then who was looking after your arse for these past fifteen years," she scolded him and tossed him his wand, "Didn’t Dumbledore tell you that you were protected on Privet Drive?" she questioned.

"Yes," Harry replied, realization dawned on him. This was the Arabella Figg Dumbledore was talking about at the end of last year.

"Well, I’m it. Ex-Auror and all," Ms. Figg, or Arabella Figg stated. Harry was surprised at this, little old Ms. Figg is an ex-Auror. He couldn’t believe it. "So are you going to tell me why I found you in the middle of the night on my doorstep Mr. Potter," she examined.

"Your doorstep?" Harry asked blankly. Then it hit him, he must have ran to the wrong house. "I ran to the wrong house, Voldemort was out there and I think he might have cursed me." He said all of this wondering why he ran to Ms. Figg’s house. Ms. Figg looked confused.

"Well…" she said. "The reason you ran to my house were for safety reasons. If you were in mortal peril, then you would have come to me. The reason I’m worried is that he was able to come onto Privet and attack you like that." At this he noticed a clock on her wall, not unlike the Weasley’s. This, Harry noticed, only had his name on it.

"Well actually…" Harry started, "I went out to the crossing, I thought I heard something," he said, then realized how stupid he was and his gaze met his shoes ashamed.

"Now you say that he might have cursed you, what did it look and sound like?" Ms. Figg glared at Harry for doing such a thing as going out into the middle of the night, especially with Dark Wizards about.

Harry tried to remember the happenings of last night, but they all seemed a little blurry. "I remember a black flash," he said this and noticed the skeptical look she gave him. "I know it sounds weird but, it was a black flash. There was also some sort of a black cloud that clouded around me." He tried to remember the words but the more he tried, the more they slipped away from him. "I don’t know for sure, but I thought I heard the words muto or something, I don’t know but it was definitely some sort of chant."

"Well, it definitely sounds like Latin, but I’m not sure. I think muto, in Latin, means to change," Arabella muttered. "If it is a spell, I’m going to need to look it up. You might as well put those new books of yours to good use as well," she added.

"Ok… wait how do you know about the books?" Harry questioned, "Are you the one to give them to me, with Dumbledore’s permission?" Harry asked again.

"Yes that was me Harry. But, you are not to tell other people about your extra curricular activities. Dumbledore asked me to ready you if you were to face Voldemort again. We don’t want another ‘last year’s fiasco’," she stated in a-matter-of-factly tone.

"You also might have noticed that you can do magic this summer." Harry remembered healing himself. Actually he had been thinking about that but just put it off as a safety precaution because Voldemort was back. "Well it’s because now that Voldemort is back, we don’t want you worrying about getting expelled when faced with death." She chuckled at this.

"Ms. Figg?" Harry asked. "I thought the Ministry didn’t believe that Voldemort is back." Harry thought back to how Fudge reacted when he was told at the end of last year.

At this Ms. Figg sobered. "The Ministry does not control that Harry. They send the official warning yes, but it’s actually Hogwarts who receives the warning from some very nifty magic detectors. Dumbledore has been gracious enough to allow me to tutor you this summer…I hear you’re not particularly strong in potions," she added with a wink. Harry blushed at her words, well of course he wasn’t ‘particularly strong in potions’, how could you be with Snape as the teacher.

"So I’ll be teaching you to duel and other valuable things. Including potions," she explained. "And no, don’t even go telling your closest friends," she added, keeping her eye on him. Just before she said this, Harry was actually thinking that the first thing he should do was owl Ron and Hermione.

"Yes, alright. I should tell you, I’m leaving for Ron’s on the 18^th," Harry replied sounding exasperated. It’s all for the best, he told himself, even though he didn’t like lying to Ron and Hermione.

She gave him a hard calculating look. "Harry, I want you to come around my house everyday until you go to the Weasleys," she informed him. "Before you go home, I will inform the Dursley’s that you managed to trample my flowers the other day and that I am going to have you doing chores and such around my house," she said, then added. "By the way, you will pay for my prized azaleas." She smirked.

"Yes, Ma’am," Harry managed to stammer out. "I guess I’ll be going then," he muttered making his way towards the door.

"Oh and Harry? Bring your books tomorrow, a quarter past seven," Ms. Figg told him.

Harry exited the Ex-Auror.’s house and walked down the street to number four. Just as he reached for the door handle, the door swung open very fast and very hard. Aunt Petunia stood in the doorway looking as angry as ever.

"You, you…" She seemed to be at a loss for words, "you will go everyday and help that poor old woman with her flowers. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" she shouted at him. "If it wasn’t that your mother and I were sisters…I…I…I wouldn’t…even…let…trash…like…you…near…my…house." She seemed to spit each word out of her mouth as though it had a foul taste. "GO!" she said pointing inside and up the stairs.

Harry marched up the stairs and went inside ‘his room’. Unluckily for him he had finished his homework, thinking he was taking a leaf out of Hermione’s book at the time. Now, he had nothing to do. He decided to look over today’s copy of the Daily Prophet. Nothing new or anything remotely connected to the Dark Lord’s rise; undoubtedly Minister Fudge had something to do with that. Mostly he looked at the Sports section; it looked like England had a chance at the Quidditch World Cup this year.

Sighing, he decided to look over his brand new yet tattered book from Ron, Heavenly Heroes. Then he would look over the books he had gotten from Ms. Figg because his ‘training’ would start tomorrow, Harry decided.

The Burrow

"By the way, did you get the package I sent you?" she asked.

"No," Ron answered. "Maybe you forgot to send it, I never got anything."

"Hmmmm…well that’s strange, maybe I did forget…" she said thinking to herself.

"Do you think we should tell him about us?" Ron asked. He was sitting on the bed in his room, at the top of the Burrow. His parents were at the grand opening of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Fred and George’s new shop in Diagon Alley, they somehow had managed to get their hands on a very large sum of money from an "anonymous donor", as they put it. . They also had some of their creations at Zonko’s.

His parent’s were gone for a whole 3 days, and everyone else was gone, except for Ginny. Other than Ginny, he and Hermione had the weekend allalone together. Hermione had sent a letter to him, asking to come over because her parents were at a Dental Convention in Huntly that weekend. He had agreed right away and just yesterday she arrived by Floo Powder.

"I don’t know Ron, do you think he’ll be upset, sad, alone, I just don’t know. Maybe we should wait at least until we see a good time. Definitely not when my parents and I go to pick him up on Friday," Hermione replied.

"I know you’re right, but I just don’t like lying to him, we’ve always told him everything," Ron pointed out. They were both right in a way. They had been discussing the issue of Harry knowing about their newly found relationship for a couple of week’s now.

"We’ll just play it by ear, I guess," Hermione said in her matter-of-factly tone. She looked up over the book she was reading. "And until then…" She leaned over and allowed Ron to kiss her, he leaned her back onto the bed…

Over the next couple of days, Harry had to go to Ms. Figg’s house to study. She made him duel her until one or the other was on the floor giving in. Harry had never bested the old witch. After about the three hours of dueling, she would make him study his books or criticize him that his stance was all wrong or his curses weren’t strong enough or he should have ‘seen that one coming’. He liked her. He now knew some very powerful hexes and spells. This was supposedly all for his training for something, he didn't know what for.

Apart from that, everyday when he returned to Number Four at 3:30, he was forced to do yard work. This would’ve been a problem all by itself since he was already weary without it being one of the strongest heat waves Surrey had ever seen. Harry took to taking off his shirt and at his rest times, he would just lay there on the grass and let the heat spread over him. By the time Friday came Harry couldn’t wait to leave. Ms. Figg told him to be careful and to not come back in pieces, she was giving him the day off, she also told him of a surprise at Hogwarts. Great, he thought, just what I need, more surprises.

To his extreme disappointment, the Dursley’s made him work on Friday. They knew he was going to the Weasley’s and they wanted to make him as miserable as possible before he left. When he was told the chores he had to do outside, he refused which got him nothing but a black eye and a couple of bruises on his sides. A weeding of the garden, mowing of the lawn, repainting of the fence, cleaning of the gutters, washing of the windows, and car wash later, a green Jaguar approached the house of Number Four Privet Drive.

Harry had taken his shirt off and was lying on his back with his eyes closed. It had to be one of the hottest days ever recorded, he thought to himself. Soon Ron would show up, one way or another and he would grin and tell Harry to put his shirt on because he was scaring everyone away. He didn’t feel like getting up yet, otherwise he would've heard the car pull up onto the drive.

Hermione was with her parents when they went to pick up Harry. They had taken the Jag, and Hermione was glad. That car was so nice and luxurious not to mention quiet and smooth. Hermione made it clear as possible to her parents that she didn’t think Harry wanted them staying too long. She told them all the horrific stories Harry had told her about his relatives, but her parents just waved it off and told her that he was just over exaggerating it, and that no one could be that mean.

As they approached she said to her father, "I think this is it Dad, Number Four." At first she thought she must have been wrong. From what Harry had told her, she was ready for a trashy horrible little shack. What she got was a clean welcome looking house, that was plain, but not horrible looking.

As the Granger’s pulled into the Drive they saw Harry stretched out on the lawn. Hermione’s mouth went dry. He was just laying there on the grass, without a shirt! She could see the sweat glistening on his chest and saw that his eyes were closed. He had really changed, he looked more muscular and tanned. This is one of those times that I consider whether I chose the right boy, she thought to herself, then realized what she was thinking and snapped out of it.

"OH MY!" Hermione’s mother breathed. Hermione only nodded when her mother voiced the very thoughts in her head. And then she came to her senses.

"Mother!" she said exasperated, as if she was suddenly disappointed.

"Would the two of you stop drooling?" Her father said looking very amused. "I would hope that your boyfriend and husband, were enough!" He feigned a hurt expression.

"Oh I’m sorry dear," Hermione’s mother cooed. She and Hermione took on that sad puppy look with their bottom lips puffed out.

"Oh fine…you know I can’t resist that look from my girls."

Just at that moment he opened his eyes. He looked startled for a second, then he seemed to recover. He quickly covered himself with his shirt, and called out to them.

"Hi Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," Harry said, looking slightly embarrassed. "I wasn’t really expecting you…er…" he blushed slightly, "…I…um…thought Ron would be coming for me."

"Um Harry these are my parents, my father David, and my mother Elisabeth. Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter." Hermione squeezed out all this very fast. Blushing slightly and biting her bottom lip. When Harry was fully covered, she asked, "Harry, we should get your trunk," she said, getting right to business.

"Oh…yeah…that…well actually I have this." Harry, still blushing furiously, pulled out the little black leather bag. Upon seeing Hermione and her parents’ confused faces he explained that it could actually hold a lot more than it’s size and made everything light, "…it’s called an Amplus bag," he finished.

Just at that moment, Petunia Dursley, came shrieking out of the house with a broom waving it in the air like a madwoman. She was swatting at Harry and the Granger’s trying to get them to get away, clearly thinking that they were all witches and wizards.

"I think we should be going, don’t you Lizzy?" Mr. Granger asked his wife, dodging yet another swipe from Aunt Petunia.

"Quite right, dear!" Mrs. Granger half shouted half laughed. Even though it was not a laughing matter. Uncle Vernon came out looking as if he could kill.

Harry was getting very tired of this, and as soon as Uncle Vernon came out he had had enough. He quickly grabbed the broomstick out of Aunt Petunia’s hands, which happened to be his Firebolt, and made for the car. Harry's uncle made a beeline straight for Harry, he raised his hand as if to hit the boy, but Harry didn't flinch or back down. He looked sternly into Vernon Dursley's dark brown eyes and stated, "You touch me again and I will kill," Harry said this in a whisper, but was sure that everyone on the lawn heard it. Mr. and Mrs. Granger stopped laughing immediately to look at Harry, as if in a new perspective, a strange one.

The black glint in Harry's eyes told Vernon that he was not joking. He was pretty damn sure that if he even patted the boy's shoulder as a goodbye, his nephew would indeed kill him.

Harry calmly walked to the car with the Grangers. The breeze starting to pick up but he could still hear the surprised little squeak from his Uncle.

Once they were all in the car, all was quiet. Hermione noticed a malicious glint in Harry's eyes that as soon as she blinked was gone. He was looking at her again with a small smile on his face, as if nothing had even happened. She let a small forced smile creep onto her face. What the hell was that back there, she thought. And with that they took off down the little road towards Ottery St. Catchpole.