Harry Potter and the War on Stone

Late Night Arrival

The Dursleys had always ignored Harry, but even more so now. It was mostly because they were afraid of him. However, this time, it was not because of their fear of Harry, but because of their fear of Harry's friends.

At the end of Harry's last term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he was greeted at Kings Cross Station off of Platform Nine and Three Quarters by an Ex-Auror, Alastor "Mad-Eye Moody, an Auror and Metamorphmagus, Nymphadora Tonks, and a werewolf, Remus "Moony" Lupin. During a short meeting off these wizards with these Muggles, Moody growled threateningly to Harry's Uncle Vernon, "If we get any hint that Potter's been mistreated in any way, you'll have us to answer to."

Number Four Privet Drive was kept relatively quiet except for the occasional morning breakfast arguments about Harry's owl, Hedwig.

"You had better find a way to shut that thing up, you hear me, boy."

"She's just needs to get out of her cage. She's been cooped up for too long," explained Harry impatiently, for he had told them this many times before.

"I don't think so, boy. I know what happens when you let that thing out. You write to all those freak friends of yours," snarled Uncle Vernon.

"Oh, you mean like my friends that you met at the train station. You remember them, the ones that told you mot to mistreat me, or else," retorted Harry, with a slight smirk.

With this comment, Uncle Vernon's skin changed in a way that Harry had never seen. His thick neck and face flushed bright purple in rage, but at the same time his skin grew pale from fear.

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN ME IN MY OWN HOUSE! GET UP TO YOUR ROOM, NOW!" bellowed Uncle Vernon as Aunt Petunia stared at him, lips pursed as usual, and Dudley cowered, whimpering, behind her, which hardly did anything because Aunt Petunia was a skinny woman and Dudley was a large child who had almost doubled in size since Harry had seen him last summer.

Harry stormed upstairs, but deep down he was incredibly happy. When he got upstairs, there was a tiny, hyperactive owl pecking at his bedroom window.

"Pigwidgeon!" shouted excitedly as he ran to open the window. The tiny owl, which belonged to his best friend, Ron Weasley, fluttered through the window and landed gently on top of Harry's unmade bed.

Harry gave Pigwidgeon a small owl treat and took the roll of parchment from his leg.

Dear Harry,

I've got great news! Mum said that I could invite you over for the rest of the summer. Hermione's coming with her parents, too. Send Pig with a reply. See ya soon, mate.

Ron

P.S. Tonks and Hermione are supposed to be sending you owls as well.

Harry looked up only to realize that a large grey and black owl had just swooped in Harry's room and landed on Harry's desk, knocking off Harry's copy of History of Magic Grade Six by Bathilda Bagshot, as well as another couple of schoolbooks. Harry unrolled the parchment from the owl's leg and began to read.

Dear Harry,

I'm coming to get you around midnight tonight. Be ready with all your things packed and your broom out. We'll be flying to the Burrow. See ya then.

Tonks

P.S. This is a Transylvanian Screech Owl. I suggest that you feed it before it explodes. I doubt the Muggles would like that.

Harry picked up his head slowly, horrified. He turned to Tonks' owl, and just as Tonks had said, the owl's chest had puffed out as if it were going to pop. Harry snatched up an owl treat and rushed over to give it to the owl. The owl's chest deflated as it chewed, giving off a faint whistle. Harry glanced back at the letter and continued to read.

P.S. I know that you took an interest in Metamorphmagus abilities when we first met, so I've sent Othello, that's my owl with some of my old books.

Harry searched the desk where Othello had landed, but could not find any books until he saw a few stray parcels hidden under his fallen schoolbooks.

They were sloppily wrapped in brown paper and were held together by, what Harry thought to be, a Temporary Sticking Charm. Harry hastily unwrapped the books, which were worn, black leather bound books and were labeled with silver ink. Each heading read Metamorphosis Grades One, Two, and Three by Leopold Frost.

Harry began to write a reply to Ron that read:

Dear Ron,

Thanks for the invite. I'd love to come. Tonks says he's coming at midnight, so I'll see you soon.

Harry

Then, another owl flew in through his window. This owl was golden brown with light blue eyes. Harry thought it was a barn owl, but just to be safe, he gave him an owl treat anyway. He unraveled the parchment and read.

Dear Harry,

Ron's just written to me. He's supposed to write to you, too, and Tonks is supposed to take you to the Burrow. See you then.

Hermione

Harry then sent off Tonk's and Hermione's owl, and then sent off Pigwidgeon, having tied his reply to the tiny owl's leg.

Just then, Uncle Vernon, who had evidently heard the crash of the fallen books and the low whistle of Tonk's Transylvanian Screech Owl, burst through the door just in time to see Harry sending off Pigwidgeon and the other two owls soaring through the air in the distance.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" screamed Uncle Vernon, his face flushed purple again. "I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT YOU WRITING TO THOSE FREAKS!"

"They're NOT freaks!" snapped Harry, his head filling with rage.

"THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD ENOUGH! YOU'RE NEVER GOING BACK TO THAT SCHOOL OF YOURS, YOU HEAR ME BOY!"

With that, Uncle Vernon snatched the letters from Tonks, Hermione, and Ron out of Harry's hands, and tore them up into small pieces. He then grabbed his copy of Which Broomstick and shredded up all the pages. As he turned around to throw the ripped pile of book into the hallway, Harry manifested all his anger and strength and shoved his uncle out of his room and bolted the door closed. Uncle Vernon kept on screaming and banging on Harry's door, but Harry just ignored him and pushed his desk and dresser in front of the door as an extra blockade.

He then rushed around his room putting all of his stuff into his trunk, wishing he knew how to do the self-packing charm that Tonks had shown him last summer. He threw in his robes, which were rather worn and tattered, all of his old schoolbooks.

He had not yet been to Diagon Alley to purchase all of his new schoolbooks and robes. He wasn't even sure if he had any money left to buy them. He rummaged around in his trunk until he found a small leather pouch. Harry then emptied it out onto the floor and found that he only had a couple of Gold Galleons, Silver Sickles, and Bronze Knuts. He would have to go to Gringotts, the wizard bank.

He was about to put his wand into the trunk, but decided to put it into his pocket instead, even though he knew he wouldn't use it because there was a law against underage wizards doing magic. Once in a while, Harry would peer out through the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of an airborne broomstick in the distance.

Harry changed out of his Muggle clothes and into his robes. He took his Firebolt out from the back of his dresser and leaned it against the blank wall next to the window. When he looked at the clock, he was amazed to find that it was only ten o'clock.

So to pass the time, Harry reached into his trunk and pulled out the black leather Broomstick Servicing Kit that Hermione had given him for his birthday before their third year at Hogwarts. He unzipped the case, pulled out the Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare, and began to read. Some of the pages he skipped, and on some of the others, he just skimmed because since his third year at Hogwarts, he had read this several times. After slipping the handbook back into the case he pulled out the remaining contents, which included the large jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, the gleaming pair of silver Tail-Twig Clippers and a tiny brass compass. Harry began to polish his broom and when he had finished, he clipped on the compass, for he did not know how far away the Burrow was. Then he reached for the Tail-Twig Clippers and cut off some stray twigs. When he was done he leaned the newly serviced Firebolt back up against the wall.

Midnight passed and there was no Tonks. Harry was beginning to get worried. Perhaps this was some practical joke that they were playing on him. He started pacing around his room, making sure to step softly, not wanting to wake the Dursleys. Another hour past and it was a few minutes past one o'clock in the morning when Harry heard the familiar humming of an incoming broomstick. Harry stood up from his bed just as Tonks came gliding into Harry's room through the window, just as the owls had done. Harry smiled as her Bubble Gum Pink hair glowed in the moonlight.

"Sorry about my timing, Harry. There were a bunch of Muggles stargazing, so I had to take a rather long detour. What are they called again, silentists?"

"Scientists," corrected Harry, trying desperately not to laugh, but apparently Tonks had not heard Harry's correction, for he kept on talking.

"Anyway, hope I didn't get you into too much trouble with Othello," said Tonks sympathetically.

"Nope," replied Harry, not wanting to waste his breath to explain what had happened.

"So, got your trunk and you Firebolt ready then, do ya?" asked Tonks.

"Yeah, right over here," replied Harry as he tried to mount his heavy trunk onto his broom.

Noticing that Harry was struggling, Tonks suggested, "Here, let me help you with that." And before Harry had had a chance to respond, she waved her wand at Harry's trunk. The trunk glowed white for a short instant and suddenly, without warning, became as light as a feather, enabling Harry to strap it to his broom with ease.

"Okay then, let's mount up." With that Harry and Tonks got onto their brooms, kicked off, and headed towards the Burrow.

It had been so long since Harry had ridden a broom. He had forgotten how good it felt. His heart was racing and he could feel the fresh wind on his face. At last, he was free from Number Four Privet Drive until next summer.

As they were approaching the Burrow, Harry noticed a cluster of small lights in front of the house. He decided to ask Tonks what they were.

"That's your welcoming committee," said Tonks smiling.

They landed and Harry realized that those lights were actually wands that had been lit using the Lumos spell. All of the Weasleys, except Percy, Bill, and Charlie were there and all of the Grangers, all of whom had there wands lit except for Ron, Ginny, and the Grangers.

Everyone was wearing their night robes. However, Fred and George were wearing, over their night robes, their dragon skin jackets from their profits in Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were Muggles, had on regular pajamas. Everybody was droopy-eyed except Ron and Hermione, who were beaming and waving ecstatically.

When Harry got inside, there was a rag washing a grimy pan in the sink, which had obviously been enchanted to do so by Mrs. Weasley. She had also enchanted w scalding pot of porridge, which was being magically poured into a set of wooden bowls that lay at one end of the table. Beside each bowl were a rather large copper spoon and a steaming bottle of warm butterbeer.

"Fred, George, dear," asked Mrs. Weasley as Harry tugged his heavy trunk through the door. The Featherlight Charm had worn off by the time they had landed. "Could you bring Harry's trunk upstairs?"

"Thanks," whispered Harry when the twins came over to retrieve his trunk.

"Oh and Ginny, could you be a dear and put Harry's Firebolt in the broom shed," continued Mrs. Weasley.

"I can do it," interjected Harry, "I have to let Hedwig out anyway. Uncle Vernon wouldn't let me."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Mrs. Weasley with a small laugh. "Ginny will do it."

"So had a good summer, then Harry?" welcomed Mr. Weasley. "Hope the Muggles didn't give you too much trouble."

"The usual," replied Harry smiling slightly.

With that they all sat down at the kitchen table and their porridge, thoroughly discussing their summers so far. Afterwards, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went upstairs. Harry changed into his night robes and the three of them climbed into bed, while the adults remained downstairs, deep in discussion.

After a few minutes of lying in bed, Harry looked over at Ron, who was wide awake, staring at the ceiling. He then turned towards Hermione's bed only to realize that it was empty.

"Ron," whispered Harry, not wanting to alert Mrs. Weasley whom he had just heard creaking up the rickety old staircase, no doubt on her way to her own bedroom. "Where do you suppose Hermione's got to?"

"I'm over here," replied a soft voice, which startled both of them because it was a voice quite unlike Ron's.

Harry and Ron both whirled around in the beds to see Hermione sitting by the window, reading Standard Book of Spells Grade Six by Miranda Goshawk in the moonlight.

"Why aren't you in bed and what are you doing?" asked Harry.

But once again a different voice answered that was quite unlike Hermione's. "Studying, of course," answered Ron before he had given Hermione any chance to even open her mouth, let alone answer Harry's question on her own. "That's all she ever does."

Hermione frowned, but neither Ron nor Harry could tell because the room was so dark and the few moon rays that shone through the window were very dim and were either blocked by Hermione or practically faded before they could reach them.

"Maybe you should try it. It might have gotten you better results on you O.W.L.s," snapped Hermione. Harry could distinctly make out a low growl coming from where Harry thought Ron's bed was. But Hermione ignored it and continued. "Besides, studying's not the only the only thing I do. I do plenty of other stuff."

"Like what?!" continued Ron, fairly triumphant that, in his opinion, he was about to prove his point. "What do you do for fun?"

"Well, I...er...I read," said Hermione, giving up on trying to prove to Ron that she doesn't always study.

"Ha...I told you!" shouted Ron with a great big smile spread across his face, which Harry did notice because the dim moonlight from the window that did reach Ron, was shining off of his teeth.

"SHHH!" said Harry and Hermione together, hoping that neither Mr. nor Mrs. Weasley had heard Ron's outbreak of joy.

"Hey, wait a minute," whispered Harry, remembering the beginning of Ron and Hermione's quarrel about her obsession with studying.

"What is it, mate?" questioned Ron, looking worried, hoping Harry wasn't going to mention that his scar hurt, because that was always a very bad sign. Whenever Harry's lightning bolt shaped scar hurts, it means that the Dark Lord Voldemort was either close by or having some kind of strong emotion.

"What's the matter?" asked Hermione with the same tone of fear in her voice as Ron's.

"How do you know what you got on your O.W.L.s"

Harry heard two small sighs of relief, one on either side of his bed. "You really should learn to pay attention, Harry," spat Hermione. "Don't you remember, last year Professor McGonagall said that we would find out our O.W.L. results sometime in July."

"How come I never got my O.W.L. results?" asked Harry indignantly, not quite sure if he really wanted to know what he got because if he didn't do well, he knew that his chances of becoming an Auror would be completely demolished.

"They were sent here," explained Ron trying to stifle a laugh. "You didn't actually think that the Wizarding Examinations Authority would send your O.W.L. results to a house full of wizard-hating Muggles, did you?...did you?"

"Well no, but...what do you think they were talking about down there," asked Harry, desperately wanting to change the subject in order to draw away from the fact that he asked a completely stupid question.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other a big wide grin. "You'll see."