Harry Potter and the Age of Deceit

Chapter 1.1 Visions

Harry woke with a start, pain racking his body. He put his hand into his mouth and bit it hard. He couldn't scream, his aunt was murderous the last time he woke her. He waited until the pain had subsided. The scar on his forehead was still throbbing as he reluctantly got out of bed to record his dream. He shook off the last dregs of sleepiness, sat down at his desk and began writing. What had the dream contained?

He remembered a young man, not much older than himself, who had been brought before Voldemort (Harry winced at the thought of the monster) and had been asked - ordered really - to swear loyalty to him. The young man had done so but that had not satisfied the dark lord who had obviously doubted his sincerity. Harry wiped tears from his eyes as he recalled what had happened next. The young man had been asked to verify his honesty via a potion and had after a pause, lunged at the nearest Death Eater. It had been a futile effort as Voldemort had his wand pointing at the man and had not hesitated in killing him, which had caused enough pain to wake Harry. Harry hung his head; the man had died defying the Dark Lord, which Harry couldn't help but admire but he quickly wiped the thought from his mind. It had been a brutal slaying of which nothing good could be said. Harry looked down at the parchment in front of him. It was complete enough, he supposed, except for the reddish smudges. It was then Harry realised he was bleeding.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed as he grabbed his hand, which was still weeping blood. He'd bitten hard enough to draw blood, enough that he needed a bandage or at the very least a plaster. He winced as that meant going to the kitchen and that meant risking waking the Dursleys. He swore once more, although this time beneath his breath as he didn't want to compound matters any further. He took a long look out of the window at the sky, it was stormy and Harry shook his head bitterly as he stood up. It was yet more evidence of what he was starting to believe. Life was not fair. Still, it had to be done and with that thought, he ever so carefully edged his door open and peered into the gloom. He didn't dare turn on a light for fear of waking one of the Dursleys and so had to pause a moment to convince himself that the loud snoring he could hear meant that the coast was clear. Very carefully he crept towards the kitchen praying that he didn't trip over anything in the darkness.

Things would have been fine if he hadn't been interrupted. The light in the kitchen flickered on and Harry turned in fright to see his cousin Dudley looking at him, his expression quickly turning to one of fright.

"Argh...you're a-a VAMPIRE! --MUMMY!" Dudley hollered as loud as Harry thought possible. Ordinarily, Harry would have been amused at Dudley's fearful call for his mummy but, right now, he was trying to steal bandages that his precious mummy would never willingly provide.

"Quiet," Harry hissed at the cowering Dudley "You'll wake-" Too late. Harry heard a roar from above and thundering footsteps coming down the stairs.

Uncle Vernon burst into the kitchen.

"Boy, what have I told you about- AHH!" Vernon stopped suddenly, gaping at Harry.

They all stood speechless for a moment while Harry wondered what was going on. The two of them where looking at him with a mutual look of terror on their faces.

"I cut myself," Harry ventured. Vernon and Dudley remained silent, transfixed upon Harry's face. Harry put his hand up to his forehead and felt a sticky wetness. His scar had been bleeding, though not too much. He felt around his mouth, some blood was there too. He understood now why Vernon and Dudley might be speechless. He must look terrible and the Dursleys only ever thought the worst of him. Harry considered trying to explain further, but quickly dismissed the idea. He couldn't be bothered with such a futile gesture.

"Er, I'm going to go to my bedroom now," Harry said as he grabbed a few plasters and walked straight past them. Vernon sputtered something at his back that sounded threatening but Harry didn't catch what it was.

He needed sleep and, lying down in his bed, he hoped for peaceful dreams - or better still, no dreams at all.

*****

Harry was floating in a dark place. He looked about him and saw nothing, although he could still make out his own form. A sound to his left made him turn. An immense horde of angry-looking animals was gathered there and had Harry attempting a scream, only to find he had no voice in this place. The animals looked as if they were standing on something firm, but invisible. They struggled and cried as if they wanted to come right at him but were being held back by some force. Harry twisted away in panic and was confronted with an even worse sight. Spread before him, stretching sideways as far as he could see, was a writhing mass of darkness - darker even that the void around him. Instinctively, he feared the mass. His fear was pure and unadulterated. The mass was death and he tried valiantly to move away from it but found all he could do was spin about. He did so and faced the animals once more, but his fear deepened. He imagined the mass reaching behind him and turned to find that it had. He tried to scream once more and move from the tentacle of darkness that was probing the space before him. He found himself helpless and his fear overwhelmed him as he realised the void was alive. The concept was hideous but every fibre of his being said that it was true; it was alive; it was a something, a very evil something that hated all life. He found himself shaking uncontrollably with fear as he gazed onward at the mass. He tried to close his eyes and deny that the mass existed but found that his eyes could not be closed. His sense of hopelessness increased. He was defenceless; knowing only that if the mass touched him it would rob him of his life.

Harry turned about several times in panic trying once more to move before finally accepting it was utterly futile. He tried to calm himself and look at his situation in more detail. He realised he was in the middle of some kind of confrontation and he felt some degree of relief as he wasn't the target of either side. It took several long moments before he realised it was more or less a stand off. The animals appeared to be stuck, unable to advance and the mass appeared to be unable to approach the animals. He felt more comfortable until fear struck him again as the mass reached out one slender strand and struck down an animal, a small cat, which disappeared after it had fallen. The animals surged but could get no closer to the mass. They were chaotic, with most panicking and all unable to move forwards. Some were lashing out at those creatures near them though he could not tell for certain if that was caused by fear or malice.

Harry looked toward the mass once more as it writhed and struck down countless more animals. He wanted to help to fight the dark mass but found he was still unable to move closer to either side. An animals' cry had him turning slowly to face a new scene. Three creatures had advanced forward from the others. A monstrous bat-winged horse, a large white serpentine creature and a small copper dragon. With them was another creature, Harry realised, but he couldn't quite work out what it was. It was a surrounded by a haze and looked almost like it was several creatures superimposed upon one and other. His attention was drawn elsewhere as the great serpent was attacked by the mass. The other creatures did nothing and he tried once more to yell out to warn them. Mute, he had to watch as the serpent was quickly enveloped by the darkness and then freed although Harry knew it had succumbed. It was a pawn of the darkness now.

Almost at once, it turned and began to attack other creatures behind it. Several beasts fell to it and the darkness before finally the other animals noticed the serpent and attacked it. The serpent was quickly overwhelmed and defeated. Too late the creatures seemed to realize it was one of them. The horse, which had seemed to give the telling blow, nudged the unmoving form of the serpent moments before it vanished in a swirl of purple flame. Slowly, the horse turned to face the beasts and reared up on its hind legs. At its feet appeared grass, spreading to give footing to the beasts. It turned, facing Harry once more, emerald green eyes glowing with hatred as tears fell to its feet form an expanse of grass that stretched out towards the darkness; it neighed defiantly and charged the darkness before it. The other animals moved as one in its wake.

*****

Harry was wide-awake. The image of the horse was fading from his mind rapidly as if it was something he wasn't supposed to know.

"What the-" He muttered. He reached over to his bedside clock. It was four in the morning. People were not supposed to wake up at four in the morning, Harry was sure of that. Something felt very strange, so much so that Harry quickly got out of bed. "If only Hedwig were here to provide company," a small part of him thought.

He shook himself. He was going mad, definitely mad. He was sure normal people didn't have dreams as bizarre and, he searched for the right term, as surreal as the one he had just had. He laughed jerkily. Who was he to call himself normal? And as for the dream, he found that he couldn't even remember it. He shrugged and rubbed his head. His scar wasn't hurting so it probably wasn't important. "Maybe that's what a normal dream is?" that small part of him mocked. Harry suddenly felt very tired and decided to go back to sleep. He'd remember what it had been about in the morning...and he could write about it to Sirius.

The next day Harry sat at his desk reading the letter Hedwig had returned with. Hermione was still going on about her parents' decision to not allow her to visit Viktor Krum in Bulgaria. She had felt insulted by her parents considering her too young and immature to go, and as if that wasn't enough, they thought Viktor was too old for her. She didn't explain what exactly was meant by too old for her although the idea that it involved dating occurred to Harry. That thought sickened him and he felt very supportive of her parents' stance. She had included a photo and asked Harry if he thought she looked immature. Harry gazed at the photo and did a double take. The young woman in the photo was Hermione? "When did that happen?" he wondered. He couldn't imagine that Hermione had used magic to alter her appearance, so he was left with the rather unsettling conclusion that the photo showed the new Hermione. She looked so mature - more mature than he felt anyway. Would she still be friends with him and Ron? He just couldn't imagine life at Hogwarts without Hermione. Harry shook himself; he was being silly. Hermione would never cease to be his friend. He, Ron and Hermione were going to remain friends for the rest of their lives.

Harry looked at the rest of the letter. Viktor was coming over to Hermione's for a visit since Hermione couldn't go and see him. For some reason, he found himself sympathising with Ron's view of Krum. Krum was an unwelcome intruder. Harry sighed, he couldn't tell Hermione what to do but he could discuss the matter with Ron. He decided to add this in the letter to Ron that he had just about finished. He looked at the photo of Hermione once more. Shaking his head in disbelief he pinned it up on the wall above his desk.

That night, and the several following, Harry found his dreams contained more of Hermione and less of Cho, who kept blaming him for the death of Cedric. The new dreams disturbed him however and he found himself longing for the old ones as being blamed for killing Cedric was far more preferable to dreaming about Hermione. That was wrong somehow and he couldn't shake the idea that all he'd have to do was look at Hermione the next time they met and she'd know. That thought weighed heavily on his mind seemingly every time he thought of his dreams which he tried to do as little as possible. If he ignored them they'd go away and he'd eventually dream about someone else.

Harry woke up and grimaced. All of his clothes were dirty and as he was being forced to do his own laundry that meant running the gauntlet of the Dursleys. They would no doubt be annoyed at being reminded of his existence but that was preferable to the stench that was coming from his clothes.

After dressing in some very badly fitting Dudley cast-offs, Harry picked up his dirty laundry and headed downstairs. He was still rather surprised that the Dursleys didn't have him doing all of the laundry but that, he smiled, was before his nightmares. The Dursleys had been truly scandalized when he had begun screaming loud enough to wake most of the street. He had expected more out of Petunia when, to her horror, the next-door neighbours (to the right) moved out complaining of the hideous screaming. Instead she simply didn't speak to, or do anything for Harry anymore. She did, however, give him a hateful look whenever Harry was nearby. Vernon twitched as if he wanted to strike every time he was near him but he always held back with a fearful look upon his face. Dudley had been forbidden to go near him, something Harry wholeheartedly approved of, and they didn't see much of one another. Harry spent most of his time in his bedroom, only leaving to go to the bathroom or to do laundry. He did sneak food from the kitchen every so often, but this was only to supplement the food sent to him by his friends via owl post. The Dursleys had stopped feeding him after the neighbours had left.

Harry thought that both he and the Dursleys were waiting for the new neighbours to leave but nothing had had happened so far. He'd thought about this and decided that the neighbours were deaf or just didn't mind the piercing screams at three in the morning. Or, perhaps Dumbledore might have had a hand in ensuring his screams weren't heard any farther than the outside wall of the house. Harry wasn't sure if this could have actually happened without his knowing, but it seemed as good an explanation as any. If only he could enchant his room so that his screams never reached the Dursleys.

Harry mumbled dejectedly to himself as he did his washing. He hurriedly hung it out, as Petunia did not like Harry going outside where anyone could see him, before rushing back to his bedroom. It was lonely without Hedwig but she'd be back soon. He grabbed his copy of fourth year spells and started reading. He had found out, much to his horror, that there were only so many times he could read his favourite book Quidditch though the Ages before it became uninteresting. Still, he supposed it couldn't hurt to read his spell book and then wish he were allowed to cast them.

This had become the standard sort of day for Harry. Sleeping, dreaming of Voldemort or Hermione, doing laundry, reading his books and every couple of days reading and replying to letters from his friends.

Harry sat at his desk smiling at the world despite himself as he recounted his latest encounter with the Dursleys in a letter to Ron. Dudley had confronted him in the kitchen as Harry was sneaking food and had threatened to tell Petunia. Harry, already irritated after a very bad night's sleep, had retaliated by threatening to tell Aunt Petunia about Dudley doing just the same.

Dudley had run off screaming and Vernon had sentenced Harry to a week in his room. It had taken Harry a while to realize what had happened. From what he'd overheard Dudley complaining about, he had been speaking Parseltongue. Previously, this had required him to be in front of a snake or snake-like object. Dudley didn't look like a snake at all. In fact, despite the diet, Dudley still looked like a small whale. That incident had led Harry to the conclusion that he didn't need a snake to speak Parseltongue.

Harry's smile grew as he tired to speak more Parseltongue. He spent the rest of the day practising and was pleasantly surprised to find that all he needed to do now was think of a snake and he could speak Parseltongue as well as he ever had.

Harry added a section all about this newfound ability to the letter as well as a promise to try it out on Ron (who seemed to not like such things) when they next met. He also added a quick reminder of his upcoming birthday, hinting that a Quidditch related present would not go amiss.

*****

Considering all the thoughts of snakes, it was hardly surprising that the night should be filled with Voldemort. The Dark Lord sat down, surrounded by a ring of standing Death Eaters. He was obviously displeased as he called forth each Death Eater in turn and asked if they had found what he sought. Each in turn said no and was punished with the Cruciatus curse. Those that delayed or tried to rephrase their failure received lengthened punishment.

Harry woke from this dream sweating but thankfully not screaming. He thought to himself that he'd have to tell Dumbledore about the dream, although there wasn't that much to tell. He knew only that Voldemort was looking for something and hadn't yet found it. Harry did not know what the thing was. Anyway, Hedwig was taking a letter to Hermione and it would be a while before she returned. Harry tried to get some better sleep during the night remained but had only disturbing dreams of dead owls.

*****

The next day Harry found that Vernon had locked the door. He smiled. Since he'd talked about his constant communications with Sirius, the extra locks and bolts on his bedroom door had been removed. Vernon must have locked the door with the original lock and that presented no obstacle to Harry, who still had the pocketknife from Sirius. He smirked slightly, it was better that he maintained Vernon's belief in the lock's usefulness. He would wait until he was reasonably certain that the Dursleys had left the house or were otherwise preoccupied before risking an excursion.

That condition was met late in the morning and since Harry was hungry he decided to make a trip to the kitchen and appropriate some food. He cautiously used the knife on the locked door and made his way to the kitchen. The house appeared deserted. Nice of the Dursleys to tell me that they had gone out, Harry thought as he decided to make the most of it and have a proper albeit early lunch. Making a large sandwich and pouring a glass of orange juice, Harry sat at the kitchen table.

*****

"AHHHH!" Someone's high-pitched screaming woke Harry up. He was in the kitchen and the half eaten sandwich was still in his hand. Dudley was cowering and retreating out the doorway all the while squealing that Harry was possessed.

Harry instantly felt uncomfortable, as he couldn't remember falling asleep. All that he remembered was sitting down to a nice, peaceful, if forbidden, lunch and then waking up to his cousin's wails.

Harry shook his head but that didn't help him remember what had happened. He didn't feel sleepy or groggy, just rather strange as if a small section of his life had been removed.

Vernon burst into the kitchen wearing an angry look. Spying Harry, it turned malicious.

"Boy! What are you doing out of your room?" Vernon screamed. "What have you done to your cousin?"

Petunia put her head around the kitchen doorway muttering what sounded like "Unnaturalness!" before hissing "Keep you're voices down. What will the new neighbours think?"

"He's possessed. I've seen "The Exorcist'. He's possessed," Dudley whimpered.

"What?!" exclaimed Harry and Vernon simultaneously, as Petunia went whiter, muttering, again, what sounded like "Unnaturalness."

"What happened?" said Harry, worried. "Did I say..." Harry was interrupted by Vernon who started pulling him out of the kitchen.

Harry struggled to get free causing Vernon to grab him from behind and, lifting him off the ground, continue out the kitchen. Harry was about to give up and go peacefully to his room when he heard a tearful Dudley telling Petunia of Harry's unnatural voice and strange rolling eyes. It suddenly occurred to Harry that that had been what had happened to Professor Trelawney when she was giving her genuine premonition. What if he had done the same? If he had had a premonition he had to know what it was.

"Stop! Gerroff me! Letmego!" Harry resumed his struggling with Vernon, to no avail. "STOP!" Harry virtually screamed and he stopped dead.

Vernon walked into the back of him, pushed hard and then backed off rapidly. Harry turned around and lowered himself to the ground. Vernon was twitching as he backed away as far as he could.

"You're not allowed...you're not allowed!"

Harry walked right up to a cowering Dudley.

"What did I say?"

"Stop!" squeaked Dudley.

"Before that Dudley. Tell me now."

"I don't know," he whimpered in response. "You were talking when I walked in."

"Leave him alone," Vernon's voice fell off as Harry glanced up at him.

"Try harder," Harry tried for a less threatening tone with Dudley, which seemed to work.

"You said the messenger and stuff were going to d-d-die and something about it was going to happen before midday today..."

Harry looked up at the clock. It was just before eleven o'clock. He turned back to Dudley.

"Try harder. Who did I say was gong to die?"

Dudley looked terrified, but did seem to try harder. It was almost amusing watching Dudley trying to think hard about something. Petunia was muttering something to Vernon in the background about unnaturalness and Vernon protecting them all from it. Vernon, however, didn't sound too eager to intervene again.

"The messenger of the chosen one," Dudley began with a frown, "will fall to the darkness that can not be named, or something, before midday today and, er, friends with a boy who lived, or something... and death... and it would, er, something, like the age of the seat. I didn't hear that part...honest." Dudley's voice had risen steadily as he had said this. "Please mummy! Don't let him hurt me!" he added in a high-pitched wail as he tried to hide his considerable bulk behind Petunia.

"Hedwig!" Harry exclaimed out loud. That could be the messenger, he was the boy who lived, and Voldemort was the darkness that couldn't be named. Was he the chosen one as well? It sounded like the premonition could have been that Hedwig was going to be killed by Voldemort, but he needed more information. He banged his head with his fist. If only he remembered what he had said. "Did I say my owl-er-- the messenger of the, um, boy that lived was going to fall?" Harry stood over a cowering, whimpering Dudley. "Well did I?" Harry snapped impatiently.

Petunia started to say something but shrunk back under Harry's stare.

"N-no the friend of the boy...I don't know...I don't remember," Dudley said timidly.

Harry snorted in disgust. Dudley was useless. He shook himself slightly, ignoring the Dursleys for a moment. It seemed that maybe the messenger was a friend of him...that left only Hedwig...and he couldn't get to her as she was at...

"Hedwig is at Hermione's!" Harry yelled loudly. She was a friend, what if Dudley had been mistaken? What if she was--it was too horrible to think about. A sick fear gripped him as his panic grew. He needed Hedwig to warn people...No she would be to slow...he only had...he looked up at the clock...it was eleven. He had one hour to prevent the death of a friend.

Harry bolted for his room as Vernon bellowed that he do just that. Once there his dilemma hadn't lessened. He needed a quick way to reach the Grangers or someone else. The solution hit Harry fast. He was an idiot, he decided, for not seeing it straight away. Hermione had a telephone; he knew her number. He ran down stairs ignoring the renewed screams of the Dursleys. He rang the number...a busy signal, again...a busy signal...could they be out? Were they on the phone? Were they already dead and the phone off the hook or already destroyed?

Harry recalled Godric's Hollow. Harry shook himself it didn't really matter right now. He needed to do something else and so rang the only other number he could think of, Ron's.

Busy signal...Harry looked down at the phone in his hand for a moment, was it broken? He tried again without success. Despair wrenched at Harry's innards. What was he to do now? He banged the phone handle hard against the wall

"Boy you stop that now!" Vernon yelled, approaching Harry menacingly, "You're going to get it!"

A part of Harry snapped at Vernon's interruption.

"AHHHGHHH!" Vernon screamed and Harry looked up in shock, distracted by a very loud thud. He turned and saw Vernon picking himself up off the floor. The wall behind him had a sizeable indent where he had hit it with quite some force.

"You're going to be expelled from that precious school of yours boy. I know they can tell when you're doing unnaturalness...I haven't forgotten."

Harry realised that that was true...the ministry knew when he was performing magic and casting spells...if he kept doing some they'd come and investigate...if he used powerful spells perhaps they'd come sooner.

Harry smiled and looked at Vernon, who went very pale and backed away tripping over his feet. Once down, he kept moving until he was back up against the wall, right beneath the indent. Harry paused for a moment before realising he was smiling rather evilly.

Wondering idly to himself if he always did that as he was planning serious bouts of rule breaking, he rushed up to his room. He grabbed his wand and started randomly stupefying parts of the wall. It seemed like an eternity before anything happened and when it did, it was only Vernon coming up to his room. He didn't get out the first syllable before Harry had turned and stupefied him. Petunia's scream rang out shrilly down below. Harry shook slightly, he was going to pay dearly for that lapse and, even though it had been immensely pleasurable, the consequences...he shuddered slightly...it was best to not to think about such things.

A knock came at the front door. Harry jumped, gasped and ran all at once. He passed a white, shivering Petunia on the way to the door. Opening it, he was greeted with two official looking wizards.

"Ministry of Magic officials," said the taller one.

"Improper Use of Magic Office," said the other. Both held out some thing too briefly for Harry to catch what it was. I.D., he supposed.

"I need to speak with Dumbledore!" Harry said.

"Eh?"

"I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore," Harry repeated slowly "Quickly! It's a matter of life and death. There not much time left."

"I beg your pardon?" began the other.

"Out of the way!" someone behind them commanded. They parted to reveal Mrs Figg...with a wand.

"Where are they Harry?" she said, as she tried to catch her breath.

"Who?"

"The Death Eaters, of course," she said impatiently. The officials jumped nervously at this and produced their wands as well.

"There aren't any here, are there?" Harry said getting quite confused. What was Mrs Figg doing with a wand? "Ah, Mrs Figg?" Harry added. He felt the question did need to be asked.

"You stupefied someone here."

"Ahh, umm, yes that was, umm, my uncle Vernon," Harry confessed guiltily "Sorry."

"What is going on here then?" By her tone, Mrs Figg was rapidly losing any remaining patience.

"I um need to talk to Dumbledore...um...I had a premonition...a real one...my messenger...I think that's my owl, is going to be killed before midday and she's currently at my friend Hermione's place. They've got to be warned. Hurry please."

Mrs Figg took an uncertain step backwards with a puzzled expression on her face as she tried to get her mind around what Harry had just said.

"Couldn't you have just used...say a telephone?" Harry thought she sounded quite like Professor McGonagall.

"It didn't work...I need to speak-"

"Yes," Mrs Figg interrupted, reaching into her dress pocket for something. "You have an invisibility cloak. Go and get it," she said to Harry. You two," she looked at the officials, "tend to the muggles in the house. Move! All of you!"

Harry not knowing quite what to do did as he was told and went to get his cloak. It didn't take him all that long, but when he had returned a surprise awaited him.

"Professor!" Harry cried out and ran towards Dumbledore before noticing he was not alone, "Hermione!" Harry ran toward her instead, but stopped just before her. She kept her head low as he approached her. "Hermione?" he asked uncertainly as she didn't move. She'd been crying heavily.

"Oh Harry!" she cried softly, as she looked up at him briefly before resuming her downcast gaze. Harry followed her stare downward and saw she was holding something. A black charred something with darkened burnt feathers that had once been white. Snow-white, Harry realised, his head reeling. It was Hedwig.

Harry took a step backwards in disbelief.

"N-no!" He looked up into Hermione's eyes for some reassurance that this was not- could not be happening. A strong reassuring hand grabbed Harry shoulder causing him to look at Dumbledore. He looked grave and worried.

"H-how...why...no. Not Hedwig."

It was only Dumbledore's reassuring touch that was preventing Harry from being sick right there on the spot. Images of Cedric's lifeless stare filled his mind, tormenting him.

Was he responsible for yet another death?

"It's not your fault Harry," Dumbledore said slowly, guessing Harry's thoughts.

Harry winced in pain as tears blurred his sight. "How? Why?"

"M-my home. They burned my home down...Hedwig was found outside in the street...oh Harry they tried to-to-to..." Hermione couldn't bring herself to say it.

"What?" Harry exclaimed, his grief for Hedwig momentarily forgotten.

"Yes, oh, Harry, they tried to kill us all," She moaned slightly and backed away from Harry. Looking around a bit, she settled Hedwig's corpse onto the ground before launching herself at Harry, sobbing madly. Harry felt uncomfortable as Hermione crushed his ribcage and showed no signs of letting up. She continued for several minutes as Harry held on to her, hugging her back.

He eventually found his voice again. "I tried to warn you," he whispered into her ear. "I tried to stop it." Harry felt guilt once more, he had tried, but he'd failed...yet again. Hermione seemed to take a while to grasp what he had said.

"What did you say? You knew?" There was no accusation, just an edge of puzzlement in her distressed voice. She gazed up at Dumbledore, who was talking intently to Mrs Figg. He seemed to notice her stare and turned to face them.

"I feel it is necessary to discuss the events of today with both of you, if you're up for it."

Both Harry and Hermione nodded. Dumbledore turned to Mrs. Figg, "Arabella, talk to the Dursleys. Try to get a better rendition of the premonition. It could contain valuable information."

Turning once more to Harry and Hermione he gestured towards the living room. "Sit," he asked once they had followed him there. Dumbledore conjured a nice comfortable leather chair for himself and sat facing them.

"Harry," Dumbledore began, "please recount this mornings events."

"I was thirsty. I came down for a drink. I sat at the table and woke up, or something like that, with Dudley screaming at me. He said, um, after we, ah, talked about" Harry felt a slightly uncomfortable blush developing, "He said that I had said that my messenger was going to die. I thought that was Hedwig and consumed by darkness did not sound good and then I remembered Hedwig was going to Hermione's. I thought that the darkness that could not be named was Voldemort and that he was going to go around to Hermione's house," Harry shuddered slightly at the thought of Voldemort trying to kill his friends. "I tried to warn them by phone but I couldn't get a hold of them...I tried to phone Ron but-" A very bad thought occurred to Harry.

"The Weasleys are fine as well, Harry," Dumbledore stated bringing relief to Harry.

"But why couldn't I get through?"

"That I do not know. I'm sure it will be answered later. Now please continue."

"Er, where was I? Oh, yeah. I started trying to summon Aurors by casting stupefy spells at the wall. I thought that if I used a lot of magic someone would turn up, but I didn't expect Mrs Figg," Harry gave a slight reproving stare to Dumbledore.

"And your uncle Vernon?" Dumbledore questioned with a twinkle in his eye. Harry rued Dumbledore's swift avoidance as he felt a blush forming.

"He, er, interrupted," Harry tried to downplay what had happened. He wondered briefly if that would suffice.

"So you stupefied him." Dumbledore finished Harry's statement for him. Harry winced. It didn't sound good when put like that.

"You did what!" Hissed Hermione accusingly.

"I had no..." Harry began in his defence, then he realised that he had no defence and hung his head low.

"I take it that it was not much later when the ministry officials and Arabella, Mrs Figg turned up?" questioned Dumbledore. Harry nodded weakly wondering how much trouble he was going to be in. It had seemed worth it at the time, in fact he hadn't even considered the cost to himself, but he did now. He shuddered slightly as he wondered if it was enough for an expulsion. Could he get - would there be detentions awaiting him at Hogwarts?

"Harry?" Harry looked up. "Good. Now, Hermione, can you recount what happened to you?"

Harry looked up at Hermione who was still giving him disapproving glares. She composed herself slightly as if preparing for a lengthy speech.

"We were, that is my parents and I, were out shopping and were coming home when we had a flat tire just one block from home. A kid had thrown tacks out in front of us and run off. My father and I got out to change the tire while mother called the police to report the little b-, um, person who had been so, ah-bad," Hermione blushed slightly...what had she been going to say, wondered Harry. It was rare for Hermione to even consider swearing.

"Then we heard an explosion. We looked up and could see some smoke rising. We heard a man screaming a lot and we went to investigate. Dad thought it looked close to home and wanted to make sure the house was okay. When we got to our street, we saw that it had been our house. It was on fire and was already completely destroyed. We called the fire service and then I made my parents hide...I thought it was odd that our house should be bombed and thought it might be the work of dark wizards. Then, some wizard, an Auror I think, came over and gave Hedwig to me. He said she'd attacked the Dark wizards who had been responsible but had been hit by them. He said we should still hide until the area was secured. More Aurors came, then you arrived, Professor and then my mother passed out. I just had to bring Hedwig to you Harry. So we came here."

"So where are your parents then?" Harry asked.

"My mother felt woozy, I think it was too much for her. She and Dad are being looked after by wizards at the ministry."

"Well-" at that moment, Dumbledore was interrupted by a small tawny owl that dropped a letter on his lap before flying away. Dumbledore read the letter silently, his face getting decidedly gloomier as he muttered, "This explains much," to himself.

He looked up at Harry and Hermione. "It would seem that we have grossly underestimated Voldemort's ability to find people. It appears he found out the location of your home Hermione and sent one or more Death Eaters to go there and kill you and your family."

"But-" began Hermione, "Wouldn't there have been a Dark Mark? We didn't see one."

"It was there, but was quickly dismissed. Aurors were on the scene very rapidly after they received an anonymous tip-off. It appears that fortune, or perhaps, fate has been with us this time. It could have been much worse."

"What happened to the Death Eaters?" asked Hermione softly.

"You heard," stated Dumbledore sadly, causing Hermione's eyes to widen.

"O-oh."

"Quite dead, they preferred to fight rather than surrender or flee. Voldemort will not be pleased at the loss of who we believe was a favoured assassin."

"What happens now?" murmured Harry.

Dumbledore hung his head looking tired. "You, Hermione, will stay with your parents at a secret location until school starts. Other arrangements may then be made. I'm uncertain as to what they might be at this time. You, Harry will continue to stay here."

"What?"

"It is still the safest place for you Harry."

Harry grimaced. The Dursleys were not going to like that at all.

"Arabella will remain and the Dursleys will be made to forget her true nature. It's for the best Harry."

Dumbledore's reassuring tone had no effect on Harry. The remainder of the holidays were not going to be pleasant.

"How am I going to have contact with you all? If I don't have Hedwig."

"Don't worry, Harry. That will be taken care of."

The thought of a new owl did not sit well with Harry. He'd had a perfectly wonderful owl in Hedwig...could another ever hope to compare?

*****

It hadn't been easy to convince the Dursleys to take Harry back. They considered him a dangerous criminal and Sirius' name had been brought up repeatedly by Vernon, much to Harry's embarrassment.

Eventually Dumbledore had somehow managed the impossible and Harry had been taken back. The only contact they had with him now, however, was to place a small amount of barely edible food outside his door twice daily.

Still Harry didn't feel too bad, as Dumbledore had provided him with a wonderful means of communication with him. Enchanted crystal balls that worked in pairs. Upon activation each person saw the other in his or her orb. Communication was instant and private. The only draw back Harry could find was that the balls only worked in specific pairs for security reasons and were apparently very expensive so he wasn't going to be allowed to keep his orb for long.

Harry had been forced to use Pig to communicate with both Ron and Hermione (The Grangers were staying with the Weasleys until other more permanent arrangements were made.) and he could only reply to letters from Sirius using the various birds that arrived with mail from him. This seemed very unsatisfactory to Harry, but he was rather powerless to change it.

His hopes of using the telephone had been dashed as the Dursleys had forbidden him from ever touching it again. They had had to get a new one as Harry had broken the last when he had hit the wall with it. Then he'd been informed that the Weasleys phone was in pieces anyway as Mr Weasley was investigating how it worked. He supposed that was why he hadn't been able to get though when he had wanted to. The idea, provided by Ron, of mail ordering a new owl was distasteful to Harry. Still he couldn't wait to pick out a new owl from the pet store when he went to go get his new school supplies. He didn't think he could bear to get one that looked anything like Hedwig. That would be too painful but he supposed he could live with any other one. Then again it was looking quite possible that he wouldn't be allowed to go shopping because of the risks involved. Harry tried to steer his mind from such bleak thoughts.

*****

Tomorrow was Harry's birthday and he was looking forward to Pig's arrival the next morning. This meant letters from his two best friends and, he smiled, more importantly, it meant presents and cake. His stomach rumbled at the thought. The Dursleys weren't feeding him enough and cake sounded divine.

Harry tried to ignore his complaining belly as he went back to reading his monster book. It had become a surrogate pet and companion in the absence of Hedwig. It wasn't much of a pet, but Harry had somehow tamed it a little in a remarkably short amount of time. He guessed that most people left their copies tied up at the bottom of dark trunks and then wondered why they were so vicious. His now acted like a small unruly dog and even seemed to enjoy playing fetch with him. Harry grimaced. It surely wasn't normal to have such a thing with a book...even Hermione would think it strange. He was going insane, he decided in disgust and, putting Snapper (his name for the book) on the bedside table, he tried to get some sleep. He wasn't helped by Snapper quickly diving off the table to scuttle about in the shadows but sleep eventually came to him as he thought idly, tomorrow would be better.