Harry Potter and the Lost Brother

HARRY POTTER AND THE LOST BROTHER

CHAPTER TWO

THAT STRANGE BEHAVIOUR

Harry woke up, still clutching his scar and screaming his throat hoarse. Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley were all standing above him. Aunt Petunia had a glass of water in her hand. Apparently she had thrown some water on his face to wake him up. As he got up, he felt cold sweat mingled with water on his face. As he raised a hand to wipe it away, the Dursleys backed up away in fear.

"Are you all right, boy?" asked Aunt Petunia.

"I-I think so," was all Harry managed to croak out. "What happened?"

"We would rather like to ask that question from you, boy," said Uncle Vernon sharply. "Petunia, I have strong suspicion that this boy is hooked on to drugs."

"What happened, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked again, pointedly asking Aunt Petunia to prevent Uncle Vernon from rambling on. She, however, looked quite unable to say as much as on word. He was about to ask again when--

"Well, you fell asleep on the couch over their watching Star Wars. And then you were mumbling something in your sleep and then suddenly, you clapped a hand to your forehead and started screaming like mad," said Dudley. "Then naturally you toppled over the sofa and started rolling on the floor, clutching you scar and screaming."

The Dursleys had all straightened up. Harry, who still sitting on the floor, tried to stand up. He just got to his feet, but overbalanced and nearly toppled over, but just in time, Dudley caught him and dragged him over to the couch and dumped him there.

"Di-did you get what I was mumbling?" asked Harry, very shaken.

"Something about, I don't know, Death Eaters or something like that and nothing much, just mumbling, you know," replied Dudley.

"Here," said Aunt Petunia, thrusting a glass of water in his hands. Even though thoroughly shaken, he was still surprised at Aunt Petunia and Dudley's behavior.

"Thanks," he croaked, drinking the water. "I-I'll got to my room now. I've got to finish and send a letter if Hedwig's back." Suddenly all the remaining color left the Dursleys' faces and they stood there stark white and scared.

"What?" Harry shot at them before going up to his room.

"What are you writing in that letter?" asked Uncle Vernon, his voice shaking slightly. "We've had our best behavior with you boy and if you tell them any lies--"

"I'm not telling them anything. But I have to tell them about the dream and my scar so they can tell Professor Dumbledore. This is important and he and has to know."

"Very well then," said a tight lipped and white-faced Aunt Petunia. "You go off and finish that - that letter of yours boy. Dinner will be in fifteen minutes. Make sure you get here by that time."

"Yeah, sure," said Harry. He got unevenly and walked to the foot of the stairs. There he held on to the banister for a moment to balance him then he started up the stairs. He was trying to keep all the details of the dream in his head. But the more he tried, the more the details kept slipping away like thin, silky strands of thought.

He went up to his room, closed the door and sat down at his desk. He held his head in his hands for a moment, and then pulled out the letter he had just written from under a few books. After the P.S. he had written he hurriedly scribbled P.T.O. He turned the parchment over and wrote:

I just fell asleep in the lounge and had another one of those dreams in which I see what Voldemort is doing. It wasn't that long or anything but I still think that you should tell Dumbledore about it.

Just as he put his quill down, a hoot came form his window and he turned to see Hedwig sitting on the sill.

"Hedwig!" he said and sprang up from his desk. "Listen, Hedwig. I know must tired, but this is important. I want you to take this straight away to Grimauld Place and give it to anyone who's there, all right? Try to give it to Lupin, but if he's not there, give it to Mr. Weasley or Tonks or Moody or anyone, OK?"

The owl hooted in response. "Just go as fast as you can and come back straight away, get it?"

Another hoot. "Safe flight then. And be very careful, Hedwig!" She gave Harry an affectionate nip on the finger and took off through his window. "G' bye!"

He stood at the window looking at the white form of Hedwig in the dark. She was flying quite fast and was shrinking rapidly. He still hadn't forgotten how she had been injured last year when Sirius was sending him his message of talking to through the fire.

Even though last year had proved disastrous due to the faults of not only Professor Dumbledore but other people as well, he had decided to tell everything to Dumbledore. Whether it be scar aches or bad dreams or foul teachers attempting to open up the back of his hand with a Blood-Sucking Quill, he had firmly decided to tell it all to Dumbledore with a hope that he might tell him something between his explanations and advice.

The thought of Dumbledore's follies and other peoples' (including his own) mistakes, made him think of the last year once again. He was about to dwell on the events and grief once again when he heard Aunt Petunia hollering that he only had five more minutes to come down. He snapped out of his reverie and hurried downstairs feeling hungrier than he had felt all the summer. While sprinting down the stairs, he made a mental note to write down all that he could remember about the dream the moment he had finished dinner.

***

That night he ate the first proper dinner in the whole summer. While getting up to get a glass of water, though, he was surprised to see a slight smile tugging at Aunt Petunia's lips. He was still very shocked at her behavior. First, she was worried that he didn't eat properly and that he stayed locked up in his room. Then, she actually gave him a glass of water when he nearly fainted. And now, she was actually almost smiling at him! Weird!

He knew that they were treating him well only because of Moody's threat at the end of last term. But to actually worry about him and smile at him was totally shocking. Uncle Vernon was very gladly and conveniently ignoring him at all times, except this evening. Dudley didn't normally bother with him except for picking fights which he wasn't doing this summer. He hurriedly finished his dinner and went up to his room to write down about his dream.

He fished out a piece of parchment from his trunk, took out a quill, an inkpot and sat down at his desk to write. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly to recall everything he possibly could: dark corridor? No passageway... turned right into a large room...two people...huge fire...cloaked man and woman...abnormally tall man...bright red eyes...laughter...Voldemort.

"Ouch!" his scar panged painfully at the last thought. He rubbed his scar for a moment and then began scribbling furiously in case he forgot again:

Moving down a dark corridor with stone and wood walls. Turned right at the end of corridor into large room with a high ceiling. Voldemort in front of fire. Talking to Bellatrix Lestrange...

At the sound of this name, sharp anger and sadness swept through Harry, this was the woman who'd killed Sirius. Before he could start on Sirius again, he forced himself to continue writing.

... About all the Death Eaters in Azkaban and the Ministry recruiting more Aurors. Told Bellatrix that they needed to recruit more Death Eaters to compete the growing number of Aurors. Told Bellatrix to resort to any means necessary and to use the methods used previously. And after gathering enough forces, follow the plan to capture and kill...me!

Isn't that ironic thought Harry Of all the things to do, he STILL wants to kill ME. He folded up the piece of parchment he was writing on and put it under a few books laying on the table. He dropped the quill next to the books, leaned back in the chair and yawned, thinking longingly of going to sleep. It had been by far the most active day of the summer. Strange, he thought getting up and going to his bed, how quiet everything has been throughout the summer. I never noticed this before. Except for the sound I heard this evening, (come to think of it, it sounded like a crack of apparition), and the dream I had, nothing else has been happening.

WRONG said that annoying little voice at the back of his mind LOOK BESIDE YOUR TABLE. SEE THE STACK OF NEWSPAPERS? Harry turned his head to see the place. YOU HAVEN'T BEEN READING ANY OF THEM. HOW CAN YOU SAY NOTHING'S BEEN HAPPENING WITHOUT READING THE PAPERS? True, Harry agreed, sitting on his bed, I'll read them all tomorrow morning. I'm just too tired right now to read. Just wish I could get some dreamless sleep...

He took off his glasses, put them on the bedside table thinking of the dreams he'd been having almost everyday since that eventful day in the Department of Mysteries, even before he'd come back to Privet Drive. His mind would replay all the horrid things happening there: all six of them, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna, suddenly surrounded by Death Eaters from all sides in the Hall of Prophecies; half of them in the Time-Room, running and the other half nowhere to be found; Hermione being hit by the curse fired by Antonin Dolohov and he thought her to be dead, scared out of his life for being responsible for another friends' death; Neville getting kicked in the face and breaking his nose; all six of them meeting back in the Circular Room, Ron half crazed, babbling his head off; Ginny with a broken ankle; Luna flying across the room and landing on the other side, clearly fainted; Ron getting entangled in the Brains' tentacles of memories, nearly suffocated; himself falling over the stairs in the Death Chamber, feeling as though every bone had cracked; Neville being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, screaming as though every bone in his body was on fire, he knew that feeling only too well having suffered it twice or more times. And then the worst bit of it all: Sirius. This bit was the worst, always. He always saw the whole thing as vividly and brightly as though he was watching it at that very moment and not just dreaming it. Sirius being hit in the chest with Bellatrix's curse, his body curving into an arc and then falling into the archway. Harry was lying on his bed half asleep. He woke up with a start at this thought and quickly looked for something else to think about.

He looked around the room looking for something to think about before he fell asleep. He noticed that his room was very, very messy, too messy, in fact. Books were strewn all over the place. Clothes were trailing half in, half out of his trunk, which was placed in one corner of his bedroom. A bundle of clothes also lay bunched up at the foot of his bed. His broomstick was propped up inside his cauldron, which lay outside his trunk. Even though he didn't get up to see, he knew that this was very much the condition of his cupboard as well. He made a mental to tidy up his room tomorrow after reading the almost tottering pile of Daily Prophets and the other side of his bedside table. He smiled to himself, thinking Ron's room would be much like this but Hermione's would be clean and neat as a pin.

He was on the brink of sleep but just before drifting off he wished he would, for once, have a peaceful and restful night, without nightmares, of course.

***

Harry woke up next morning feeling strangely, though blissfully, rested, comfortable and happy. He put off his alarm, stretched in his bed and looked out his window at the upcoming dawn. The bluish-pinkish-gray sky looked beautiful. A slight breeze was coming through the open window, slightly moving the curtains and the calendar on Harry's window was flapping as well. For some reason it was a very relaxing scene. In a world soon to be torn asunder by war and bloodshed, a simple breeze and rustling calendar seemed very relaxing indeed.

Harry remained in bed staring out his window in a kind of stupor and enjoying the whether very much. He was suddenly jerked out of his trance by the appearance of an owl at his window. It was the Daily Prophet delivery owl. Harry took the day's copy; put a Knut in the little pouch tied to its leg and got out of bed. He decided that first he'd take a bath and then get on with the chores he had decided to do today. So he went to bathroom and took a long bath.

He came back to his room, scrubbing his head with a towel; he was surprised to see Hedwig perched on the window with a note tied to her leg. He threw the towel on to his trunk and went to take the letter from Hedwig. The owl flew to her cage and started drinking some water. Meanwhile, Harry went to his bed and sat down to read the letter.

Harry,

Good thinking to tell me immediately! I have already contacted Dumbledore who his currently busy but will come over as soon as possible to discuss this matter. Don't go and do anything harsh, Harry. I know all of this might seem very familiar to last year, but it is still the right thing to do. Do not leave the house and try as much as possible to stay inside after dark!

We are all fine and currently at the place of which you already know. Your friends will be arriving soon as will you. Hedwig wanted to leave at night, but since the situation is currently quite unsafe, we decided to send her first thing in the morning.

Yes, we all miss Padfoot a lot as well, but as much I grieve saying it, there is nothing we can do about it. We will have a talk soon, Harry. And trust me, much sooner than you expect.

Take care Harry,

Moony

Harry read the letter once again, taking special notice that Professor Lupin had been using code words like 'Padfoot', 'Moony', 'your friends', and 'this matter'. He stared at the words 'situation is...unsafe'. What did he mean by that? Harry surmised he could only find an in the pile of newspapers next to his table. So he got up and attempted to comb his hair, looking in the mirror on the inside of his cupboard, which was quite unsuccessful.

Even though Harry had lost quite a lot of weight due to nearly continuous lack of food, he had still grown quite a bit. So he had to bend his knees a bit in order to look at his face properly. He stared at his reflection for some time; he had dark circles and bags under his eyes, his thin face, though now more angular as compared to his childhood curves, was extremely pale. His vividly green eyes stood out very sharply against his pale skin, as did the scar on his forehead.

He went and picked up the stack of newspapers from next to his table, sat down on his bed and started going through them, reading the headlines of all the articles and just going over the text for something eye-catching. There wasn't much in the earlier editions except the Minister urging the Magical Community to remain calm and that all-possible efforts were being made to track down suspected Death Eaters and their possible hideouts. It also said that any attempts being made by the Death Eaters to recruit new members were being closely monitored and would be stopped at the soonest point in time. But as the copies got more and more latest, there were reports of minor skirmishes between small groups of Death Eaters and Ministry Aurors. These became more and more frequent as the dates of the newspaper came closer to the present date, but these attacks were always far away from Little Whinging.

However, Harry also learned that as the Dementors had revolted from Azkaban, the prisoners were now kept under extremely strict security under the guard of specially hired witches and wizards accompanied by a handful of Aurors and Security Officers from the Magical Communities of other countries. Word was being spread throughout the world about the return of Voldemort and his threat and thankfully these countries were assisting to their best efforts. The Ministry, which had hardly hired any Aurors for nearly three years, had increased their efforts to acquire more Aurors almost threefold.

Harry put away day before yesterday's newspaper and opened up yesterday's. He received a huge jolt as if he'd just got an electric shock. There, right on the front page was a huge picture that covered almost covered the whole front page, showing a neighborhood in which more than half the houses were utterly destroyed and smoking. And looming on top of them was the Dark Mark looking thoroughly eerie even in the black and white picture. On top of the picture was the heading declaring:

MASSIVE DEATH EATER ATTACK: NEIGHBORHOOD JUST NORTH

OF LONDON HIT

Extensive casualties, Muggles attacked, Three families of wizards hit.

According to eyewitness reports as well as survivors, a small town north of London was hit by the largest Death Eater attack since the destruction of the Dark Lord almost 15 years ago. The attack took place mid-evening when apparently a few Death Eaters went to the Tonguebloods in order to recruit two of their children into the fold of Death Eaters. The sole survivor of the Tongueblood family, 25-year-old Emily Tongueblood, told The Daily Prophet reporters about the incident.

"There were three of them at our front door. My brother, who had finished Hogwarts only last year, opened the door. And there they were... three hooded men were standing there, all pointing their wands at him." Reported a sobbing Emily. "He asked them what they wanted and they told him that they wanted to recruit him as a Death Eater and he said he'd rather die. I immediately knew what was coming so I ran out the back door and Apparated to the end of the street and from there I saw them kill all my family and then the Hit Wizards and Aurors showed up and during the fight, more Death Eaters showed up and then they were attacking all the houses and it was horrible..."

Living in the same neighborhood, the Bones and the Andersons also suffered heavy losses as well. Mr. Timothy Bones lost his life and his 19-year-old son suffered severe injuries and had to be admitted in to St. Mungo's. Mrs. Bones was unavailable for comment, however, from her incoherent talks, our managed to get the picture that she and her daughter Susan Bones, who is currently about to start her sixth year at Hogwarts, were away at Diagon Alley when the attack place.

However, several Death Eaters were also captured and many of them were killed though with losses of Aurors and Hit Wizards..."

And so the article went on. So this is what Lupin meant by bad conditions, thought Harry. He was thoroughly shocked. He never expected anything like this to happen. 'Of course something was bound to happen. You should have prepared yourself for the unexpected. At least now you should,' Harry thought to himself. He quickly skimmed through the rest of the newspaper hoping to find some information at the same time hoping he would not receive any more shocks. There was nothing more in the paper except for condolences to the families who lost members.

Harry put away yesterday's newspaper and picked up today's paper with shaking hands. Before opening the paper, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself for anything unusual or shocking. He opened the paper. As he half expected, he saw another picture with the Dark Mark looming above the not only burning but also totally destroyed houses.

The headline read: "SECOND DEATH EATER IN TWO DAYS: MINISTRY UNDER PRESSURE TO TAKE SOME ACTION". Harry read the article with a half-open mouth. This time three families had been hit and out of 12 people only two survived, one of them being a ten year old who would now be sent to the Wizards Orphanage until he was old enough to attend Hogwarts. It stated that the attack took place further South of the previous attack. Meaning closer Little Whinging. It looked like the Death Eaters were after him again. Harry wondered why he didn't feel more scared.

He read the line about the orphaned boy again and felt a pang of guilt sadness. Only one child had been orphaned yet, in a sea of countless others who still had their Mums and Dads to love, before they were also cruelly taken from them by one or the other of Voldemort's minions. Harry's anger and sadness were fighting each other inside him to take the higher position, to put more influence on him. Eventually his anger won out and he looked around the room angrily. He raised his hand to throw away the paper when his eyes fell on the clock. It was nearly seven o'clock. He had been reading the newspapers for nearly two hours continuously! He quickly flipped through the newspaper in his hand. Upon finding nothing, he threw it on his bed and started going downstairs.

He was about half way down the stairs when Uncle Vernon's voice rang through the house. "HARRY POTTER! GET UP AND GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

"I'm coming," he replied. He went into the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. He was half way to the table when the doorbell rang.

"Get the door, boy!" spat Uncle Vernon at Harry. Harry turned to the door leading to the hall to see who was at the door. 'Who in the world would come to the Dursleys so early in the morning,' he thought to himself. A sudden though struck him and he took out his wand and held it in front of him, just in case.

"Who is it?" he yelled through the door.

"Harry, it's me. Please open the door quickly. And you had better put that wand away, I'm not going to kill you," said an all to familiar voice. In a daze, he lowered his wand and opened the door.

"Hello, Harry! It's great to finally see you after so long," he said.