Harry Potter and the Pandora's Box

Harry Potter woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, dripping in sweat. He tried to grab at the frays of the dream he had been having but it was like holding water; pointless.

He remembered that it had been about a girl with light blonde hair. She had been trying to tell him something. What was she trying to say? Harry swung his legs out from underneath the covers and sat up. Immediately, the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something was not right.

He looked across his room at his empty owl cage. Hedwig was out for the night, so he could not send an owl to his friends Hermione and Ron. He glanced at the clock which told him it was just after three o'clock.

Sprawled across his floor were an odd assortment of books and parchment and quills. A dead mouse lay abandoned near the foot of his bed. Lying on top of the mess, were two important letters. The letters were unopened as Harry had not yet had the time to open them. One was from Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and was a school booklist.

The other was unknown, Harry didn't know who it had come from nor where. He was unsure whether to open it without checking for curses first. Because Harry was not an ordinary boy, he was the Boy Who Lived. He had fought Lord Voldemort only a few months ago and was still wary of things that could be dangerous.

Standing up, Harry heard an odd sound coming from the other side of his door. He took a step backwards keeping his eye on the door. Fumbling behind him, Harry grabbed his wand. There was no way Harry would go unprotected when he felt so exposed.

Harry heard another odd sound and light footsteps running down the hall towards the staircase. All was silent. After a moment, there was a strange giggling sound and more footsteps running down the hall.

Harry crept to his closed bedroom door and leant his ear against it. He could no longer hear any sounds.

Slowly, he opened the door, wincing as the door creaked slightly. Outside his room however, he could not see anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps he was still dreaming when he heard those sounds. That would be it. He only imagined those sounds.

Relieved he pulled open the door the entire way. That's when he saw it.

The chaos.

On the floor were smashed photo frames and torn photos, the carpet was ripped and stained in places, the dresser at the end of the hall was tipped over with one of it's legs snapped off and the highly polished staircase was scratched and dented. He walked to the top of the stairs. He looked down and saw more mess and destruction. Harry stood perturbed.

The television was in the downstairs hall, the cord teared, the screen smashed. There were more broken photo frames, smashed plates, twisted cutlery and torn fabric which Harry assumed came from the lounge room couch and curtains.

What had happened?

Aunt Petunia screamed and Harry winced thinking that she thought he had made this mess. He turned quickly to tell her he didn't, no, would never do this.

She wasn't behind him. And she hadn't stopped screaming. He watched her stumble backwards out of her room. Her night gown seemed to be covered in blood. Harry instinctively ran into her bedroom.

It was dark. Aunt Petunia's screaming had set him on edge. The was a great lump in the middle of the bed. He knew it to be Uncle Vernon. He reached out a hand and gently shook Uncle Vernon's shoulder.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry whispered, rolling him over.

Harry dry retched and barely managed to keep himself from screaming. Uncle Vernon was... Was not Uncle Vernon any more...

His face and upper chest was nothing but a bleeding mass of torn flesh. But... But he was still breathing.

"DUDLEY!!!" Shrieked Aunt Petunia.

Harry scrambled out of the room. What could he do?

The next minute passed in a blur. Harry managed to pull a hysterical Aunt Petunia into the bathroom and locked them securely inside. He didn't know what to do.

Harry couldn't think straight and Aunt Petunia had nearly passed out with shock. Her face was stark white and she was breathing extremely fast.

He couldn't do anything. What had happened? Harry thought this house was still protected. But it was not possible. Nothing like this could have happened if the house was still protected. What were those things that sounded like small children? How could something that sounded so eerily innocent cause so much destruction?

Harry just sat there. He was still and in shock. There was so much blood. How could Uncle Vernon still be alive?

"What was that?" gasped Aunt Petunia.

Harry pricked his ears. They couldn't be back could they? Footsteps sounded down the hall, coming towards the bathroom. No, these footsteps were much heavier than the ones he had heard previously. Could it be someone from the Wizarding world?

"Harry?" came a tentative voice.

Harry recognised the voice; he could have fainted with relief. Dumbledore. Harry jumped up and unlocked the door.

Dumbledore must have seen the pain and confusion in Harry's face because his next words were: "We have the house surrounded with Aurors, you are perfectly safe now." Dumbledore had half directed his words of reassurance to Aunt Petunia. "Come now, we must get you out of this house. Some of the Aurors are ready to take you to a safe house. Sirius and Molly will be waiting for you there. I assure you they will take care of your immediate needs. Go now, quickly."

With Aunt Petunia clinging to his arm, Harry walked cautiously downstairs, avoiding debris, and into the protective ring of Aurors waiting outside the front door. They enclosed Harry and Aunt Petunia and together they Apparated them to the porch steps of a seemingly abandoned house. The Aurors quickly pushed them inside, shutting and locking the door behind them.