Harry Potter and the Eight Defenders of the Light

Chapter 1

A Summer of Sorting

The train had pulled into platform 9 and ¾. Harry, who had been in a cabin with Ron and Hermione, was remarkably quiet during the journey back to London. His scar was still aching from the encounter that had brought Lord Voldemort back to life only 3 nights ago. Staring out the window the whole trip back, Ron and Hermione had tried to make conversation with him, but it always soon faded into silence. Harry was not interested in conversation; he was still trying to sort out the events of not only three nights ago, but also the whole year. After saying his good-byes to Ron and Hermione, he saw Mr. Dursley waiting for him, looking more like a buffoon than ever.

"So, you return alive again this year I see. You know, you really are lucky that your Aunt and I have agreed to take you in again after that stunt your friends pulled last year," Uncle Vernon puffed. This made Harry wince. He had totally forgotten about the Weasley twins' "Ton Tongue Taffy" that had engorged Dudley's tongue to resemble a small Buick. "That is why there will be a few new rules this summer..."

The new rules that Harry thought he would dread actually made his stay at number four Privet Drive a little bit easier to tolerate, they were, none the less, slightly confusing. Rules like, he could communicate with all of his friends and teachers from Hogwarts, as long as the owls agreed to come and go at night. If his friends called on the Telephone, he was allowed to talk to them, but only for 5 minutes, but Harry didn't think at that time that they would call at all, considering that they had tried in the past with disastrous results. Harry wondered if Dumbledore had a hand in what was happening with the new rules, but decided that it couldn't have been, as there were strict rules on meddling with Muggles.

Privet Drive looked as it always had the ideal Muggle house with its neatly trimmed lawn and freshly painted fence. Upon arriving, he went straight up to his room (the smallest in the house) and flopped on the bed. He couldn't believe how tired he still was from the events of three nights ago, how his scar still ached, and the fact that Dumbledore insisted that he return here.

Harry was just getting settled when Dudley burst into his room, eager to catch up on the bullying that he had missed during the past nine months. Harry was sure he was going to get a good beating, since the last time he had saw Dudley, Aunt Petunia was trying to yank his engorged tongue out of his mouth. Dudley had lost some of his girth from the previous year, but what he had lost in girth, he had gained in height and muscle.

"So Potter, I see that you're well, unfortunately," Dudley sneered. "I should give you a good beating for what your wizard friends did to me last summer. How was I supposed to know that a piece of candy would do that to me?" He lamented. "How about we start with a good old fashioned head down the toilet eh?"

"Maybe it taught you a lesson that you can't let your stomach rule your existence," Harry countered.

Dudley then tried to jump him, but Harry evaded the assault, and ran out of the room. It appeared that Dudley was still as slow as a sloth, and that Harry's relative speed and lack of height still worked to his advantage.

Taking refuge in the back yard, Harry got back to thinking.

Why had Dumbledore insisted that Harry should come back to number four Privet Drive? Harry had trouble seeing why Dumbledore thought that this ordinary house was safer for him than the magically protected Hogwarts, or even staying with the Weasley's. In his last encounter it took all Harry had to just get away from Voldemort, but he had inflicted little or no damage upon the resurrected Dark Lord. Wouldn't it have been safer for him to stay with wizards who could protect him? He would have trouble fighting off any of the Death Eaters, let alone Voldemort himself. Not to even mention that he was still classified as an underage wizard, as he had not taken his OWL's, and was not allowed to practice magic away from Hogwarts. Harry could not imagine why he was left to fend for himself at the Dursley's for the summer, but he accepted it thinking that being allowed to communicate with Ron and Hermione was much better that he could have hoped for.

"Albus, I want to know exactly what your plans are for the Eight Defenders of the Light. I know what the prophecy states, but I need to know who the Defenders are so I can send them notice of the plans. We have to educate them, but keep them a secret," Minerva McGonagall said as she was walking into the room.

"Minerva, I can assure you that plans are already in place, after all, it is those 8 youths that hold the key to defeating Voldemort." Minerva shuddered at the mention of Voldemort's name. Dumbledore sighed at her reaction. "Minerva, one more thing, this 'You Know Who' needs to end now. We need to show the students that he is just another wizard, a mortal like you and I."

"Still Albus, I don't know if I can bring myself to say his name. The terror that man has caused..."

"It may take a couple of years, but right now we can only set our plans in motion. The Ministry is not helping us in denying that Voldemort has risen again, and they will continue to deny it until a tragedy happens I'm afraid." Sighing, Professor Dumbledore stared out the window of his office. "Very well, here is the list of the names that are the chosen seven. I trust that you will take care of the arrangements Minerva?"

"Of course, but how do you suppose we get all of them to the Castle at Frizbourg?" Minerva asked of Dumbledore.

"Well all we would have to say to some is that they have been chosen for extra schooling, am I right? The others, I am sorry to say, will be having tragedy befall them in the next week or so, including Mr. Potter." Staring out the window again, Dumbledore knew in his heart that the Death Eaters were planning an attack on the Dursley household, as the fidelius charm that had protected Harry for fourteen years had been broken to let Arabella Figg out of retirement.

"Very well Albus, I will get ready making the preparations." Minerva left the office and glanced at the list of the Eight Defenders of the Light.

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Virginia Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Justin Finch-Fletchey, Susan Bones, and Cho Chang

Well that is certainly an interesting group, Professor McGonagall thought to herself. She also privately wondered about the choice of Draco, but she put her fears aside, as Narcissa Malfoy had been an undercover agent for years, and Draco's knowledge of Voldemort's followers would undoubtedly prove useful.

Suddenly it was time for supper and Aunt Petunia had ventured into the back yard to yell at Harry to come help with supper.

"Harry, you unthankful little mongrel, come in here and help with dinner!" Aunt Petunia shouted.

Not wanting to create more conflict, he silently went into the kitchen and watched over a sauce that Aunt Petunia was making for dinner.

"Make sure that sauce doesn't burn! Stir it constantly, and if it burns, you won't eat," Aunt Petunia barked, reminding him of Snape in potions class.

This thought make Harry smile--to be back at Hogwarts, yes, even Snape's class would be better that standing over some sauce that he probably wouldn't get much of at the dinner table.

It was status quo at the Dursley dinner table, with Uncle Vernon puffing about work and Aunt Petunia fussing over her ickle Dudleykins, and Harry getting the least amount food of anyone at the table, barely enough to half-fill the ravenous cavern that was his stomach. Harry seemed distant at the dinner table, and didn't notice that Uncle Vernon had been speaking to him

. "Harry, you ungrateful snob, you will acknowledge me when I talk to you!" Uncle Vernon fumed, slamming his clenched beet red fist on the table.

This startled Harry, and snapped him out of his thinking once again.

"Sorry Uncle Vernon, I was just thinking." Harry apologized, but inside he was gleaming at the fact that the Dursley's had actually noticed something about him. Uncle Vernon wasn't done scolding however.

"Thinking? What does a runt like you have to think about? You don't have any problems, for goodness sakes, you don't even go to a real school!" Uncle Vernon retorted.

That was the last straw. Furious, Harry's green eyes had started to twinkle, and he clenched his teeth. Harry's temper had reached the limit after 14 years with the Dursley's he couldn't tolerate the ignorance anymore.

"YOU don't even know what I went through this year! I nearly died three days ago! The worst Dark Wizard known to earth kidnapped me and returned to full power using my blood. I had to return here to YOU, the worst Muggles known to human kind, for reasons that I can't fathom nor understand!" Harry countered angrily.

"YOU will not use that tone of voice with me! DO NOT talk about magic in this house! The world would be loads better off without you, Mr. Harry Potter, and we wish that you actually had succumbed to this...this 'Dark Lord' three days ago!"

Still in a rage, Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him upstairs. While writhing to get out of his grip, Harry felt something snap in his arm. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Uncle Vernon threw him in his room, slammed the door and locked him in. Partly out of pain, and partly because he was still weak from his encounter with Voldemort, Harry passed out.

Harry awoke many hours later to the soft hooting of Hedwig. It was well into the night now and Harry tried to push himself up, his left arm working fine, but his right arm throbbing in pain and bent at a strange angle. Great, just great he thought as he straightened his glasses. He now could see what Hedwig was hooting about; Errol, the Weasley's owl, had arrived and promptly passed out, as he was extremely feeble and not up to long trips. Taking the note attached to his leg, Harry unrolled it and read.

Harry,

I hope you got back to the Dursley's without incident. Things in the wizarding world are strangely quiet and most don't seem to believe that "You Know Who" has returned. Ron wanted me to tell you that he will be trying to use the public telephone in town to call you in two weeks to check up on you. If you need anything, or if the Dursley's aren't feeding you properly, let me know and I will send food. Also I will be in touch with Professor Dumbledore about when you can come to stay with us. Oh and one more thing darling, attached is the Daily Prophet article about your win in the Triwizard Tournament, but not one mention about Cedric or the cup being a portkey, I'm afraid. Send return with Errol that you got in safely, and I will be in touch.

Mrs. Weasley

Harry had to think about how he would respond to this letter. Would he tell Mrs. Weasley that Uncle Vernon had gotten so angry over Harry trying to sort through his feelings that he had broken his arm? Should he tell Sirius or send an owl directly to Professor Dumbledore? "I wish that I could just go see Madam Pomfrey and it would be fixed in minutes," Harry mumbled to himself, and Hedwig acknowledged with a soft hoot and flew over onto his left shoulder. "It will take at least two months to heal the Muggle way, and I doubt that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia would take me to the doctor, as the doctors might ask unwanted questions," he muttered to himself, his arm throbbing in pain. Knowing that he would be locked in his room for probably the whole summer at this point, he decided to send Errol back to the Weasley's with news on what happened. Harry would then send Hedwig to Sirius, figuring that Ron would send Pigwidgon to Hermione and Professor Dumbledore would find out from either one of them or both. During the time Harry had rationalized what to do in his mind, Errol had recovered sufficiently, and was taking some of Hedwig's water and owl treats. Harry sat down and wrote to Sirius first, as he wanted to give Errol, as much time as possible to recover; he was likely to be used a lot in the next couple of days.

Sirius,

Just a note to let you know that I got back to the Dursleys OK, although I am still very tired from my battle with Voldemort. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon got mad at me at dinner tonight because I have been trying to sort things out in my head, and I didn't respond to him when he asked me something, and it blew up from there. He took me by the arm, and as he was dragging me up the stairs, my arm broke, and I am now locked in my bedroom with a broken arm. I just woke up a few minutes ago. I am not expecting any medical treatment from the Dursleys, as the Muggle doctors would ask too many questions. Send Hedwig back with a solution, and try to send food if you can, I doubt I will be getting much to eat in the next few weeks.

Also I have been wondering, exactly why did Dumbledore want me to come back to the Dursleys? I really cannot rationalize it. I am not allowed to perform magic out of Hogwarts, so how am I to protect myself? Just wondering if you know why. Get back to me soon.

Harry

"Hedwig, take this to Sirius as fast as you can, but please wait while I write back to the Weasley's, and make sure Errol gets there, it is terribly important," Harry said to Hedwig. Hedwig acknowledged by hooting softly, nipping at his fingers affectionately.

Mrs. Weasley,

To ease your worries, yes I did make it back to the Dursleys safely. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon and I had a spat at dinner, I was thinking about the events of the past week, and didn't realize I was being asked to do something. It just erupted from there, and he ended up breaking my arm while he dragged me up the stairs, and locked me in my room. Please send help and food, as I suspect that I will not be fed much over the next few weeks, and I am not expecting the Dursleys to take me to the Muggle doctor, because they often ask unwanted questions. Let me know what is to happen and don't use Errol too much as he passed out when he delivered your message. Have Ron send Pig to Hermione to keep her informed; the last thing I need is her wrath if she doesn't know about this.

Harry

He attached the notes to Hedwig and Errol's legs and sent them off into the black night. Exhausted, he flopped onto the bed and lay there. Harry, though trying, was not falling asleep; he was in too much pain from his broken arm. He got back to thinking about the events of the year. Harry no matter how hard he tried still felt guilty about Cedric's untimely death. "If only I hadn't insisted he take the cup with me." He felt a twinge of pain, thinking about this sore spot again. How he wished for a pensieve, so he could just siphon off the memories and deal with them when he was ready. Finally in the dead of night he fell into a fitful sleep, and dreamt about many things, including Cho Chang, and when he awoke from the dream, Harry was still thinking about her. Cho had gone out with Cedric the previous year. Harry felt responsible for Cedric's death, even though in his heart he knew there was nothing he could have done differently. Harry still had a crush on Cho, but knew that he would probably never go out with her for the sheer fact that he respected Cedric and did not want to diminish his name in death. Feeling slightly better, he fell into a deeper sleep, and did not wake until morning.

In the morning Harry awoke to the pounding on the door of Aunt Petunia sending a little food through slot in the door. Through the slot came two slices of bread with butter and a glass of water. He jumped on this, as he was extremely famished. The pain in his arm dulled with a slightly fuller stomach, and he decided to study some books until Hedwig returned. Harry was hell bent on studying this summer; since Voldemort was back, he figured that he'd better start studying ways to protect himself, from potions to transfiguration. He would study even if he couldn't practice it. Plus, he rationalized, it would help keep my mind off my pain.

Unfortunately, studying turned out to be the worst thing for him to do. He kept on thinking of Voldemort, and it seemed that each time he thought about him, his head hurt some, almost like the Dark Lord was watching all the time. Lunch came and went, but no food came through the slot for Harry, just another glass of water. The pain became unbearable in the afternoon so he lay down on the bed and tried to sleep again, but Aunt Petunia had other ideas. She burst into the room, and demanded that he come down and mow the grass and after that she might consider giving him some dinner.

"Out, out, go mow the grass, and make sure you do it right and before Uncle Vernon gets home, and sees you out of your room," Aunt Petunia ordered.

"Potter, what's with your arm? Let me see." Dudley rushed toward him and grabbed his broken arm, sending shooting, searing pain through Harry, causing him to cry out in pain. Dudley sneered.

"Dudley you big oaf, geroff me, get off of my arm so I can get back to my room," Harry exclaimed, almost in tears from the pain.

"Why should I let go, Potter? Serves you right for standing up to Dad."

Dudley let go, but watched Harry mow the lawn with one arm and pointed out every flaw in his work. An hour later Harry finished and Aunt Petunia sent him to his room with a little bit of dinner. It consisted of two pieces of bacon, and two slices of bread with butter and a glass of water. His mind drifted back to Hogwarts, and the "old crew" that Dumbledore had mentioned when he was in the Hospital wing. Exactly who was this "old crew"? Would they actually believe that the Dark Lord was back? Harry hoped that they would. He felt that the fate of the world probably depended on these good people getting back together to fight the forces of Voldemort. Spinning these issues around, Harry fell asleep, only to be awakened by his scar burning again.

He got up and looked in the mirror to find it glowing green. Harry knew that this could only mean one thing: Voldemort was up to no good. As the pain subsided, he turned to thinking about his parents again, and for not the first time wished they were still around. But, he rationalized, he would not be who he is if they weren't dead. Not that he liked the fame, but he as a core would not be himself without the tragedy he had in his past. Still, he wished that he knew more about them, more about his heritage. Harry continued to spin this thought in his mind until Errol arrived back with Hedwig. Errol, as usual, promptly collapsed.

Picking up the old owl, Harry retrieved the letter from his leg, and put Errol on the bed to recover. Harry then went to the desk to read the letter.

Harry,

Just sit tight for a few days while we contact Professor Dumbledore and see what the best course of action is. I am so worried about you, I am sending you a package right away. Ron has Pig out to Hermione, but he says that he will send Pig with food as soon as he gets back. Meanwhile, you can dull the pain of your arm with a deflating draught. You should have the ingredients to in your potion stores. Just mix it up and add some water to dilute it, and apply it to your arm to take away the swelling. Mr. Weasley is going to suggest to Professor Dumbledore that we use the Muggle routes to help you, like the welfare for children department. But I will send you word when I know. Let me know immediately if they do anything else to you. Muggles are easily taken over by Voldemort, but it is not easy for a Muggle to break a wizard's arm. Be careful, OK? I don't want to see your Obit in the Daily Prophet.

Mrs. Weasley

Harry hadn't thought about his potion stores. It was true that one could conjure potions without spells and without using magic, as long as it didn't require fire. He then turned to Hedwig, who was hooting at a third owl that had arrived while he was reading the note from the Weasleys. This owl was just an ordinary brown owl and it almost looked like a school owl. But Harry next turned to Hedwig and took the note from Sirius.

Harry,

Sorry I could not send food back with Hedwig, but I am rather short myself right now. I am closely following the whereabouts of Voldemort and I have to tell you to be very careful. It takes a lot of force for a Muggle to break a wizard's bone. As for you staying at the Dursley's without protection, I do know for a fact that, when Professor Dumbledore decided to leave you there, he made sure that there were extraordinary protections protecting you that I think still exist to this day. With this development of your broken arm, though, we may have to seriously look into your continued safety there. If your scar hurts at all, send an owl to Professor Dumbledore immediately! It could mean that you are in trouble. Just hang out and try some deflating draught mixed with water to help ease the pain in your arm. Hang in there and we will help you.

Sirius

Harry now turned his attention to the third owl. This was not the owl that Hermione usually used, so he suspected it might be from Dumbledore. The note read:

Harry,

Our cover at the Dursley's may be blown. When your parents were killed, I put in place some very powerful spells and charms to protect you and hide you from Voldemort. Send word back with Brownie here that you are okay. I am planning on sending some undercover wizards to pose as child welfare workers to get you and bring you to a new safe place where we will tend to your injuries and remain there the rest of the summer. This will occur within the next week or so while we do some research (with the help of Mr. Weasley) and get our people together. Hang in there, Harry. We will be there, and if you encounter any Dark Wizards, I have gotten the Ministry of Magic to overlook any transgressions that may occur, so be on your guard.

Dumbledore

Harry thought about what Professor Dumbledore had said. He was now extremely nervous as he crafted his return to Dumbledore and he told him of his scar glowing green, and how he surmised that it might be the Avadra Kadavra spell. He also told him to hurry with his plan, as he was still very weak, and with his arm he feared that he might not be able to hold of anyone for long. He attached the parchment to the brown owl's leg and got his wand out of his trunk. If anything was to happen he wanted to be ready. The wand was sitting on the night table as Harry fell off into a fitful sleep.