Harry Potter and the Dementors Unleashed: Harry's Sixth Year

Dear Harry,

          Happy birthday! How are you? What have you been up to lately? How is your Summer going? Mine is going great! Would you like to share a compartment with me on the Hogwarts Express this year? Send your owl back with an answer, please! Thanks!

     Love from Cho

     Harry set the letter down. He went to throw it away, then sat back down, thinking better of it. He really did not know what to tell Cho apart from that he really did not like her much anymore, apart from the occasional twinge of jealousy when she spoke to Roger Davies. He reread the last line. "Love from Cho". It was very ominous. Harry decided to deal with this new nuisance later. Turning around, he walked over to the window and stared out, his mnd now full to the brim with thoughts. Very much wishing he had a Pensieve, Harry fell back onto his bed, thinking. Voldemort was back, he had no other birthday wishes from his friends besides that of Cho's, and...

     The thing his self conscience mind had been dwelling on all summer came back to him in a rushed sentence: Sirius is gone. Tears of anger formed in Harry's eyes. Voldemort was going to pay for this. He was going to pay for Harry's parents, and Neville's parents, and Cedric, but most of all, he would pay for Sirius....

     Suddenly, a swoosh, clunkfwump sounded from the window. Harry leapt to his feet, immediately alert. Errol, Ron's extremely old owl, lay on the floor. Relaxing, Harry picked him up and set him in Hedwig's cage. Carefully unwrapping the envelope that had been strapped to Errol's leg, Harry sat back down and unfolded the letter.

     Hey, Harry!

     Happy birthday! How's your summer going? Mine's not going too well... Mum keeps crying. She says all her children hate her because Fred and George moved out and Percy still won't apologize, and really, it's getting annoying. And she's convinced you hate her from last summer. She says she was being too over protective of you, and now you don't like her anymore. We don't know what to do, if you say anything that even hints that you don't like something she did, she cries that you hate her too. If you don't speak to her, she'll say you're being rude on purpose.

     I sware, my family.... oh, and I think you'll be recieving a love letter from someone any time now. I caught Ginny in her room, scribbling something down on parchment. I saw "Dear Harry" at the top. She's been in her room for days. Looks like we're gonna be brothers-in-law! (Just kidding)

     Pig is out delivering a letter to the Ministry, Dad's ill so he needed to send in a notice. Don't worry, he'll be fine. We just have to find a Pepper-Up Potion. By the way, I can't send your present with Errol. He might not even make it to your house with the letter, I don't know.

     Best Wishes,

     Ron

     Harry frowned. He felt guilty that Mrs.Weasley thought he hated her. He flipped Ron's note over and went to write back when something caught his eye on the back of his letter.

     Approved by Ministry of Magic Officials

     Harry stared at it. Anger welled up inside him. They were checking his mail! Fudge, whom he came very close to despising, was sorting through his mail! Harry took a deep breath. He did not want to get angry over this. So what if they sorted through his mail? Then his mind exploded with what-ifs, - what if they took out important information? If the Daily Prophet wasn't going to report about Voldemort, who else could he count on but Ron and Hermione? What if -

     Harry forced his mind to settle. He heard a soft noise by the window and looked up. Hedwig and a very proper looking tawny owl sat on the windowsill. Harry walked over and untied the letter from the tawny owl's leg. It took off immediately. Harry recognized at once Hagrid's untidy scrawl on the front, and he could not help but notice that there was no package with this letter, either. He set the letter on the bed, then walked over to Hedwig, who carried two letters but no parcels.

     Harry untied them both. One was from Hermione, - her neat and tidy writing was easily recognizable, and the other Harry did not know, though he had a growing suspicion. He sat down and opened Hagrid's first.

     Harry -

     how are you? Happy birthday! Enjoy your present and your muffins!

see you in a few weeks!

     Your pal Hagrid

     Harry stared. "Enjoy your present, and your muffins!" He looked around, as though expecting to see them floating in the air, then looked back at the letter. He didn't see any muffins, nor did he see a package of any kind. He snatched the envelope off the bed, searching it in case he missed something. He flipped it over and suddenly understood.

     Approved by Ministry of Magic Officials

     The Ministry had his packages! Harry wanted to scream. The Ministry was going to keep those packages in case they were cursed... this was stupid. He knew that they were doing this as a precaution but, well, this was Hagrid, he wouldn't send him anything like that. He decided to put this, along with Cho's letter, on his bedside table. He went to open Hermione's, then flipped over the envelope and saw the same red print. Angrily, he opened her letter.

     Hello Harry,

     Happy sixteenth birthday! How are you? I'm fine, I'm staying at the Burrow with Ron, and Mr. Weasley will be there to pick you up on the first in the afternoon. I hope your aunt and uncle don't mind, - he'll be traveling by car so as not to upset them too much. Don't get mad, I just got here yesterday. I noticed Mrs. Weasley has been a little upset lately though, and without Fred and George and with Ginny locked in her room it's basically just been me and Ron, who I'm not speaking to anyway. You would think he'd be over that whole Victor Krum thing, but no. I mean, I told him Krum sent me an owl the other day, and he exploded!

     Harry decided this was why Hermione was not mentioned in Ron's letter. Shaking his head, he kept reading.

     Anyway, it's mayhem over here with out you, I can't wait for your arrival. Hope you are well!

     Love from Hermione

     Harry did not think it strange that even though Hermione had ended her letter quite the same way, it's meaning was much different than Cho's. For one thing, he knew his and Hermione's friendship was a very platonic one, and that Hermione would never like him like that. And Cho had, which made the feelings behind the signature all the more different.

     Standing, he stretched and looked at the clock. 4:07 PM. He made to leave the bedroom then stopped. Whirling around, he marched back to the bed and scribbled on the bottom of Hermione's letter, 'Got it. Will see you then. Harry' then slipped it into the envelope, along with Ron's letter. He attached the parcel to Hedwig's leg and she took off, cuffing his head as she left. Harry made to leave when he remembered the last letter. Turning around, Harry stared at the unfamiliar writing. Sitting down, he ripped it open.

     Dear Harry,

     Happy birthday! I hope you are enjoying your summer, and that everything's O.K. at your house. I'll be seeing you soon, I suppose, because Dad'll be picking you up any day now.

     I wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to share a compartment with me on the Hogwats Express this year, because I wanted to ask you something important. I would like it if you gave me an answer when you came over. I'll be in my room. Thanks.

     Love,

     Ginny

     Harry sat there, too appalled to speak. Two girls had just asked to sit with him, two girls he really didn't know very well, two girls that both ended their letter with the word love. Harry, however, was not thinking about which to pick, rather, he was thinking how to break it to Cho and Ginny that he honestly did not have romantic feelings for either of them. He was contemplating his options when -

     "POTTER!"

     Harry jumped. Standing, he threw Ginny's letter onto the bed and ran downstairs, wondering what he could have possibly done this time.

     Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were standing on chairs in the living room with looks of horror on their faces; Uncle Vernon's chair was staying together with great difficulty. Harry's cousin Dudley was hiding under the kitchen table. For a split second, Harry was completely bewildered as to what they were hiding from, then he heard a loud ripping noise from the kitchen and Aunt Petunia screamed.

     "You, boy! Get that thing out of my house!!" spat Uncle Vernon. Harry slowly went into the kitchen.

     Sitting on the table was a brown box. Or at least it had been. It appeared that the ripping noise was the box falling apart, and now -

     The niffler crawled over the table and began ripping apart the Dursley's kitchen, searching for shiny objects. Harry ran towards it and grabbed it round the middle. It immediately began to nuzzle his face.

     Prepared for a bad punishment that could involve no supper for a long time, Harry slowly tread back to the kitchen, fearing the worst.

     Uncle Vernon was purple in the face and Harry saw the vein throbbing in his temple. He stared warily at the small black fuzz ball in Harry's hands. "What is it?" he snarled.

     "It's a Niffler," replied Harry calmly. This seemed to make Uncle Vernon even angrier.

     "But what is it doing in our - in our - here?!" he demanded furiously.

     Harry blinked. What was it doing here?

     "Answer me, boy! I won't have this, I won't tolerate this, I -"

     Suddenly, a tawny owl that Harry recognized as the school's swept through the kitchen window and promptly dropped a package directly onto Uncle Vernon's large, pudgy head with a sharp crack! that filled the room.

     Aunt Petunia screamed. Uncle Vernon, apparently unconscious, fell off his chair and onto Dudley, who's large bottom was protruding from under the table. Dudley began to kick and scream. Aunt Petunia, still in shock, tried to lift Uncle Vernon off of him, but no luck, as Uncle Vernon must weigh at least, if not more, than Dudley himself. Harry stood, not sure what to do. Uncle Vernon was starting to wake, and Harry was sure to be in some of the worst trouble he had ever been in. Harry, thinking quickly, seized the package, niffler still in his right hand, and took off out the front door.

     He raced down Privet Drive and onto Magnolia Crescent. He kept running until he hit Magnolia Road, then sped down the street before collapsing in front of a new house that was currently under construction. He panted, trying to catch his breath. The niffler, thoroughly shaken, was struggling to get out of Harry's hands to inspect the package Harry had tossed onto the ground.

     Harry set it down and it began to tear open the package, which, after close inspection, revealed to be Hagrid's muffins. He guessed this was why Uncle Vernon was unconscious; Hagrid's cooking was terrible, though no one told him so. Harry stared at the niffler, then at the muffins. He suddenly realised the reason that they had not come with Hagrid's letter - they had to be inspected first, and apparently packages took slightly longer. He supposed that Hermione's gift should be arriving any time now, and sure enough -

     A large barn owl soared through the air, dropping a small parcel onto Harry's lap. Harry tore it open, though not without help of the niffler, who was growing quite restless. Hary stared at Hermione's gift in awe.

     A small book entitled So You Want to Be An Auror sat inside the brown packaging. Harry opened it and flipped through the pages. It described the classes you needed to take, the training you'd go through, the requirements, and included the greatest Aurors of all time. Harry grinned. He couldn't wait to show this to Ron.

     Suddenly a thought came to Harry. He would have to go back to his house sooner or later, his things were there and Mr. Weasley would be there tomorrow to pick him up.

     Harry's stomach dropped. He had not told the Dursleys what was going on tomorrow; though they wanted desperately to get rid of him, they definitely would not approve of a wizard in their house, even if Mr. Weasley did drive a car over. He sat there, his mind reeling, when a soft noise above him made him look up.

     Pigwidgeon, twittering like mad, hit Harry in the head with the force of a small tennis ball. Beside himself with happiness, he flew around Harry's head, hooting like crazy. It occured to Harry that he should not be sitting on a street in a muggle neighborhood with an owl, a niffler, and a book about fighting Dark wizards. Snatching Pigwidgeon out of the air with his Quidditch reflexes, he stood and grabbed Hagrid, Hermione and Ron's parcels off the ground. He ran into the play park which was thankfully empty and sat down. The niffler, which had been tagging along behind him, layed down and curled into a ball.

     Harry, sitting on the edge of the slide, opened Ron's parcel. Inside was a small box containing what looked like regular quills. Harry read the small note attached to them.

     Harry - these are Quick-Quotes Quills. I figured we'd need them since I told Hermione that we weren't going to need her stupid notes anymore. - Ron

     Harry sighed. He supposed he could try to actually take an exam without Hermione's help, but....

     Harry could not help but laugh. Hermione and Ron's constant fighting was annoying, yes, but all the same, he could not help but think that Ron might -

     "THERE HE IS!! THERE HE IS!!"

     Harry's head whipped around. Dudley stood not twenty yards away from him, pointing at Harry with a look of triumph on his pudgy face. Harry stood completely still. Uncle Vernon marched toward him. Aunt Petunia, apparently, was still at the house.

     "You, boy," said Uncle Vernon, his eyes narrowed, "You're going to tell me now what that is" - he pointed directly at the niffler - "and you're going to tell me what in God's name fell into my kitchen!"

     Harry replied, very calmly, "This," - he picked up the niffler - "is a niffler. And this is what fell on your head." He lifted the muffins off the ground and brandished them at Uncle Vernon, who took a step back and screwed up his face.

     "What is that? Something else - " he lowered his voice considerably but showed no signs of calming down -"magical?"

     Harry suppressed a laugh. Trying to keep a straight face, he replied, "No, they're muffins."

     Uncle Vernon shook his head. Harry stared at him, waiting for his punishment. Uncle Vernon seemed to be trying to calm himself. It mustn't have worked because suddenly he exploded.

     "First owls, then dementoids, now Snifflies! I won't stand for it, it won't be tolerated, not in my house, boy! If it weren't for those -"

     But what those were, Harry did not find out. Pigwidgeon chose this time to start flying around Uncle Vernon's head, twittering insanely. Harry grabbed the niffler and took off in the opposite direction. He had a plan forming in his head - he would hide somewhere near Number 4, then, when Mr. Weasley arrived, walk into the house with him as though he'd been there the whole time. Uncle Vernon would have no choice but to deprive from punishing Harry, which Harry decided after rethinking the summer before last.

     Harry passed Number 4, thinking. Where would he go? He could not do any magic, and this neighborhood didn't exactly welcome Harry into their yard.

     It took Harry a second, but suddenly he remembered - Mrs. Figg! He ran as fast as he could up her steps - Mrs. Figg would understand, Mrs. Figg would help him -

     He pounded on her door. "Mrs. Figg! Mrs. Figg! Mrs. -"

     The door swung open to reveal Mrs. Figg and several of her cats. "What is it, boy?" she asked, looking worried.

     "It's the Dursleys, I am not going back there, they are insane," Harry panted. Frowning, she led him into the house.

     "What did you do now?" she sighed, then suddenly became alert. "You didn't use magic, did you, boy?"

     Harry shook his head furiously. "No," he said. "I'm not that stupid. It was this birthday present - there was a niffler - then the Dursleys blew up, they really didn't like the thing because it tore apart the living room -"

     "A niffler, you say?" she inquired.

     "Yeah, I'll show you, he's - " Harry paused. Where was the niffler? He looked around. "Oh, - be right back," he said distractedly. Mrs. Figg opened her mouth to question him but Harry started toward the front door. Thinking about the last time he saw the niffler, he opened the front door.

     Uncle Vernon stood on the bottom step, hand raised, ready to knock on the door. For a moment they stared at each other. Then Harry's niffler wound it's way up the stairs and between his uncle's legs and he snapped.

     "THAT'S IT! GET OUT HERE, NOW!" screamed Uncle Vernon, and with that, he grabbed Harry by the shoulder and yanked him outside. Harry, who was struggling to free himself from his uncle's iron grip, looked to Mrs. Figg for support.

     "Help!"he choked out, flailing around.

     Mrs. Figg quickly complied. "Um, Mr. Dursley, really, we shouldn't be so harsh toward the child, I'm sure whatever he did was out of line, yes, but not that -"

     "I will punish him as I see fit!" hissed Uncle Vernon.

     Harry miserably waved goodbye to Mrs. Figg, who stood in her doorway, cuddling the niffler behind his uncle's back. He was dragged back to the house, shoved up the steps and thrown into the house. Harry fell through the Dursleys' doorway and onto the tiled floor. Groaning, Harry looked up at his uncle, who had a sort of manic glint in his eye.

     "Get up, boy!" he barked. "Now!"

     Harry leapt to his feet. He would not put up with this. "I didn't do anything wrong!" he snapped. "I can't control owls or my friends or nifflers! I can't control what happens here and if that's what you think you're wrong!"

     Uncle Vernon stood there, surveying Harry as though he were something particularly nasty stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "Well," he said, and there was a tone of forced calm in his voice, "I guess you may - er - go to your room."

     Harry stared. "You're not going to punish me?" he said disbelievingly.

     Uncle Vernon seemed to be struggling with something inside himself. "No, no, just go to your room and, uh, and write to your friends, then. Go on.," finished Uncle Vernon with great difficulty. A look of dawning comprehension fell on Harry's face. He smirked.

     "Yeah, maybe I will, but, my arm sure hurts from when you grabbed me there," said Harry, just to see his uncle's reaction. And indeed, his reaction was very comical, his look was that of pure terror.

     "No, - really, I'm uh," he paused, as though searching to find a different word than the one he was being forced to use. For a second he stood there, thinking, then, accepting defeat, said, "Sorry. It - won't happen again."

     Harry decided to take advantage of this opportunity. "Oh, and also," he said, still smirking, "tomorrow, Mr. Weasley is coming over to take me for the rest of the summer. He's coming by car, so the neighbors won't get angry."

     "THE NEIGHBORS?!" cried Uncle Vernon. Harry, taken aback, stood stock still and faced his uncle. Veins throbbing in his temple, Uncle Vernon rose to his full height, (which wasn't that impressive as he was slightly shorter than Harry), and began to shout about whatever he could think of that had anything in the slightest to do with Harry, - owls flying through his window like it was their own front door, dementors coming very close to sucking out his son's soul, nifflers tearing apart his bedroom, and the threat from "those idiotic robed men" a.k.a. the Order. None of this was Harry's fault, naturally, but Uncle Vernon seemed to have been suppressing his anger for at least a month now. Of course, Harry had not sent anything to the Order that said he was being severly mistreated, but just the fun of taunting the Dursleys with this idea kept Harry from being in most arguments. He decided he wouldn't be in this one, either.

     Harry waltzed over to the stairs and slowly retreated to his room. He heard his uncle's ranting ("You just wait for next summer, boy, you won't have those people to protect you, -") and shut the door on it. He needed to think, he needed to get away from the Dursleys, but most of all, he needed Hogwarts. Hogwarts was his home, his sanctuary, and all he needed to live was just that.... And with that thought resounding in his head, he fell asleep.