Harry Potter and the Death of Fear

Chapter One: Departures and Arrivals

In the darkness, Privet Drive looked peaceful, serene and quiet. The intimidating row of suburban houses stood stationary and noiseless. Number Four, however, was anything but. The kitchen lights were on, and a large, potato-shaped man could be seen through the window, waving his arms in the air dangerously and the back of his neck becoming increasingly red.

Inside the kitchen, Uncle Vernon’s eyes protruded so far out of his head, that Harry, (being at the receiving end of Uncle Vernon’s monstrous tantrum) feared that they would soon pop out.

“NOW, boy!” Uncle Vernon roared, “I will NOT have any of your STRANGE BUSINESS in my house! How dare you even THINK that you could outsmart me? You know DAMN WELL what trouble you would bring to Petunia if you decided to RUN AWAY!”

He was, of course, in Harry’s eyes, over-reacting and being extremely unreasonable to his attempt in leaving Number Four, Privet Drive.

“Well, Uncle Vernon,” replied Harry, knowing full well that his uncle hated Harry calling him by his name, “what would you rather me do? Send a letter to my friends informing them how well you’ve been treating me, or, me leave this God-awful place? What a hard choice for you, since you like me so much.”

Uncle Vernon stared at Harry, his mouth open, a horrible ragged breath escaping his nose. Harry merely sneered at his great, ugly moustache and the strands of spittle that had collected there.

Suddenly, with uncharacteristical speed, Uncle Vernon raised his great ham of a hand and whacked Harry over the head. Harry, dizzy with pain, fumbled for his wand in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Oh no you don’t, you stupid boy.” Uncle Vernon mumbled and snatched Harry’s wand from him, and, snapped it, right under his nose. At that instant, a jet of red sparks erupted from the crack, causing Uncle Vernon to stumble back in fear on his fat legs and drop it. A strange hissing noise came now from the wand and Harry watched, unable to do anything, as his wand burnt with a blood red flame until there was nothing left.

Harry stood rigid. He looked at Uncle Vernon, who was whimpering at the sight of the magic, picked up his trunk and Hedwig cage and, seething with anger, stormed through the front door, and into the cool air in the street. He was furious. How dare that fat oaf break his wand. How was he going to get a new one?

Harry willed the Knight Bus to come. To come and take him away from this living nightmare. He didn’t care what kind of danger he was in now that he had left Privet Drive, but he knew that he was never going back. He would go and live at the Burrow with Ron. Or at the Grimmauld Place with Sirius. Harry suddenly felt as if his heart stopped. No, Harry thought, not with Sirius. Sirius is dead. Harry felt hollow. His grief for his godfather flooded his concentration and he slumped down onto the pavement. Sirius is dead...and I forgot. Harry lowered his head and tears trickled down his cheek. I am so stupid. What was I thinking? Why did I think I could just leave? I have caused so much trouble.

Harry’s plan, as Uncle Vernon called it, was decided the night of his sixteenth birthday. Harry, having become increasingly excited at the thought of returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had decided to catch the Knight Bus to The Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley.

The thought of seeing his friends again after no contact throughout the summer, burnt brightly in his mind. He had not dared to try and contact Ron or Hermione, as he knew that the owl post was more likely to be intercepted now, more than ever. At the end of fifth year, and during the summer, the Daily Prophet had headlined that Voldemort had regained his full power and his following. Harry knew, for certain, that Voldemort had somehow heard the whole prophecy of his and Harry Potter’s fate, and this thought brought fear and despair to Harry’s soul.

*

That night, of the 31 July when he’d told the Dursley’s that he was off to bed, and they gave him odd looks, he went up to his room and took out the parchment that he had devised his planned escape on.

This was mostly done under his duvet at the dead of night the week before. He glanced over the scrawl on the parchment, said ‘happy birthday’ to himself, then quietly packed up all his school things. Hedwig, cooed softly in her sleep, and Harry felt strangely confident. On top of his trunk lay the letter he had received from Hogwarts the day before, informing him of the new books he would require for the new school year, and, what Harry had been dreading since he left Kings Cross Station with the Dursely’s at the end of his fifth year; his OWL results. He picked up the letter and read it over, for what seemed the hundredth time.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Regarding your return to Hogwarts for your sixth year, and considering your lesson choices for NEWT level, you will require the following books, certain objects for practical demonstrations and several items for your reinstated position as Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Books

Defence Against the Dark Arts: New Guide to the Dark Arts Volume Six
Charms: Magical Charms and Incantations - Reviewed
Transfiguration: Students Handbook and Notes Volume Two
The Art and History of Transformation
Potions: Advanced Potions for the NEWT Student
Care of Magical Creatures: The Bigger Book of Beasts and Creatures

We understand that you will find all these books at Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley.

Practical Demonstrations

Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Forgerer’s Pendant
Charms: Nothing is required
Transfiguration: Invisibility Cloak
Potions: Standard Cauldron, Size 14
Care of Magical Creatures: Nothing is required

Quidditch Requirements

All Quidditch Team Seekers are required to own the new Silverstar broom, to ensure that both Seekers in opposing teams have an equal and fair chance of catching the Golden Snitch.

In regard to the OWL exams you took last year, here are the awards you gained:

History of Magic: Poor - Awarded ‘P’
Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations - Awarded ‘E’
Potions: Exceeds Expectations - Awarded ‘E’
Charms: Acceptable - Awarded ’A’
Herbology: Acceptable - Awarded ‘A’
Care of Magical Creatures: Exceeds Expectations - Awarded ‘E’
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding - Awarded ‘O’
Astronomy: Acceptable - Awarded ‘A’
Divination: Dreadful - Awarded ‘D’

We eagerly await your return to Hogwarts on September the first.

Harry’s chest swelled with pride. He knew he’d worked hard for his exams, but he really didn’t see this coming. ‘Exceeds Expectations’ in Potions, Harry couldn’t wait to see the look on Snape’s face when he told him what he’d got. Harry grinned at the thought. He also grinned at Hermione’s reaction because it was her that pushed him to study most of his fifth year.

Harry folded the letter up and put it in his pocket. Grabbing Hedwig’s cage and his trunk, Harry crept silently out of his tiny room and onto the landing.

Motionless, Harry stood there, his heart beating hard against his chest, listening to the loud rhythm of Uncle Vernon and Dudley snoring. Harry felt a calm sense of cool, as he quietly stole down the stairs. Making no noise, he passed the entrance to the kitchen, and standing in the doorway stood a dark figure, its red eyes gleamed through the blackness. Hedwig screeched, making Harry jump and the figure disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

Upstairs, Harry heard uncle Vernon start ranting about an “idiot boy” and “middle of the night”. Before Harry had a chance to run for the front door, the great shape of his Uncle came plodding down the stairs. At the sight of Harry, Uncle Vernon’s fists clenched and his pace quickened.

“I can explain,” Harry said.

“Oh, I don’t doubt THAT,” Uncle Vernon barked, his triple-chin wobbling. “I know EXACTLY what has happened. You and that ruddy hocus-pocus has been bothering me and my family for TOO long. I WILL HAVE NONE OF IT ANYMORE!”

Harry said, “Fine with me,” picked up his belongings and made for the front door. But Uncle Vernon was too quick and grabbed Harry by the ear, making him wince and pulled him into the kitchen.

*
Harry sat on the cold stone wall of the neighbouring house, his face in his hands. He was stuck in he muggle populated Little Whinging with no where to go. He couldn’t face going back to the Dursley’s and begging them to take him back, more for his pride than anything else. He just hoped the Knight Bus would come. And then it did. A blur of bright purple and a racket of noise came to a halt right at Harry’s feet.

“Where to laddie?” asked the driver. Harry was shocked as he had expected the spotty faced Stan Shunpike, but instead was greeted by a well-bulit Scottish man with a shock of orange hair that looked very Weasley-like.

“Eh, Diagon Alley, sir,” Harry answered, flattening his fringe, remembering Stan Shunpike’s reaction to who he was.

“Six Sickles, laddie,” said the driver as Harry counted out what wizarding money he had in his pocket.

Harry stepped onto the all-too-familiar bus, and saw beds strewn about the bus haphazardly, with many spilt cups of coffee. Harry saw a comfortable looking armchair, and made his way towards it when the bus suddenly lurched forward into motion and Harry ended up flat on his face, sprawled on the gum-ridden bus floor. Some of the other passengers stifled a giggle when Harry frowned at his misfortune. Picking himself up, he fell into the cosy armchair and fell asleep almost instantly, with Hedwig cooing at his side.