Harry Potter and the Ancient Secret of War

Harry Potter and The Ancient Secret of War

Chapter One

Life at 4, Privet Drive

"Sirius!" Harry Potter sat up in his bed, feeling drops of sweat coursing their way from inside his skin through to the exterior. He tried to calm himself by inhaling deeply but was clearly finding it difficult to do so. So many things had happened, especially in the past year and a half, that his head ached whenever he tried to recollect the incidents during that time period. Yet Harry felt those thoughts rippling to the surface of his mind whenever he did not want to remember them. It was even worse when he tried to ignore or forget those memories, which were etched into his mind. These memories haunted him mostly at night while he slept, which meant that he was suffering from insomnia, albeit of a mild nature. Evidently, his dreams stopped him from sleeping for more than four hours a day; and that was hardly enough for an about-to-be sixteen year old.

It had been happening every night since he had returned from school. Last year, his dreams had been about Cedric Diggory's death and the long corridor through to the Department of Mysteries. This year, the dream of passing through the corridor had been replaced by those dreams where he saw Sirius Black - his godfather - dying. Tonight's version had been more accusatory. Harry had seen Sirius scolding him for having led himself and his friends into the hands of the enemy. While chiding him for his irresponsible and reckless behaviour, Sirius was saying, "You could have checked me up with the help of the mirror. I thought I had told you precisely that about its purpose." At that moment, a curse hit Sirius right in the chest and he died, falling through a veil that stood on the dais where he and Harry were standing.

It seemed to Harry that Sirius had fallen into another world altogether. He had tried to call out to him from the right side of the veil but his godfather didn't come back. He was still calling out to Sirius when Harry's dream gave way to the world of reality and he woke up with a start, still calling out the name of his godfather and sweating profusely all over.

It had been the same all through the holidays. Harry really wanted to go back to his school - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was a wizard, albeit a student only, but he could do quite a bit of magic with his wand. He was sixteen years old and was without doubt, the most famous teenage wizard of all time. Not that he cared though and the irony lay precisely in that fact, because Harry was famous for something that had happened so early in his life that he did not even remember that incident.

Apparently, the peace of the wizarding world had been disturbed considerably some forty years ago when Lord Voldemort - the most powerful Dark wizard of the century - had started trying to capture power. He had raised a formidable army of Death Eaters (Dark wizards faithful to himself) and many other dangerous creatures like Dementors and the giants. At that time, there had been widespread turmoil in the wizarding world with Voldemort and his Death Eaters killing most of the wizards who stood against them. Even the wall that separated the non-magical world from the magical world was threatened. In fact, it was breached on several occasions when Voldemort and his supporters committed mass murders of Muggles (non-magical people). What with covering up such massacres and fighting Voldemort, the Ministry of Magic was finding it very difficult to maintain order among wizards.

During the height of Voldemort's power, a prophecy had been made about Harry being the only person who could overcome the Dark Lord for good. Having heard the prophecy, Voldemort had decided to kill Harry. He went to the house were baby Harry (he was one then) lived with his parents. After having murdered both his parents, Voldemort had tried to kill Harry. However, the killing curse had deflected back from Harry and rebounded upon Voldemort, who had to flee from the scene, in the form of a spirit without any physical form. That night onwards, there had been an uneasy peace in the wizarding world and Harry had earned the reputation of being 'The Boy Who Lived'.

After his parents' death, Harry had lived ten long years with the Dursleys - his only living relatives. Petunia Dursley was the only sister of Lily Potter and that meant that Harry had been condemned to living with her family till he came of age. He had to spend his time at the Dursleys being ill-treated and neglected. At the age of eleven, he had received an owl from Hogwarts telling him that he was a wizard. Harry had never looked back since then and had now completed five years studying magic along with his best friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Still, he had to return to his aunt and uncle every summer and even though he knew the reason for having to do so, Harry did not find the prospect too comforting.

Although Lord Voldemort had lost his physical form, his spirit had lost none of its potency. He was still as cunning, evil and deceitful as ever. It was this form whom Harry had stopped from regaining power while still being in his first year at Hogwarts. But things had definitely taken a turn for the worse during Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts. At that time, Harry had been a witness to the restoration o0f Lord Voldemort to his old body. Voldemort had killed his fellow student - Cedric Diggory and Harry had barely managed to escape back to Hogwarts, along with Cedric's dead body.

The Ministry of Magic had been oblivious to all that was going on with Voldemort and had taken apart the images of Harry and Dumbledore in a bid to deny the return of Voldemort. It had spent the whole year trying to suppress the truth. Then last month, Sirius had died in the Department of Mysteries. Harry had been confronted by Lord Voldemort yet again and had escaped him (again) - for most part due to the protection provided by Dumbledore.

Ah yes! Albus Dumbledore! Harry's Headmaster at Hogwarts and without doubt, the greatest wizard alive. As the days were crawling by, Harry found himself wishing more and more often that he were powerful like Dumbledore, who had made a life-threatening duel with none other than Voldemort, seem like a casual stroll in the park. Harry wished it so that he could face Voldemort and fight against him as one on par or above him. He desperately wanted for this war between good and evil to end. But he also knew that it was not possible until either he or Voldemort, killed the other. It was destined to be so, according to the prophecy made before Harry's birth.

Voldemort didn't know the complete contents of the prophecy and that had been his undoing when he had tried to kill Harry as a baby. But Dumbledore, on the other hand, had told Harry everything after Sirius' death. However, knowing the secret, that connected Voldemort to him and vice versa, with Voldemort being partly in the dark about the same was, according to Harry, not a thing to be very proud of.

As Harry thought about all these things (he was sitting up on his bed), he caught his breath and calmed down a little. Maybe it was the thought of Dumbledore being on their side - the side of good. Harry knew that Dumbledore would never let anything bad happen to him, if he had the chance. All these thoughts calmed Harry down. However, despite his calmed fears, he knew that he could sleep no more that night.

The repaired alarm clock on Harry's bedstead showed the time to be four in the morning and Harry knew from the experiences of the past few days that it was no good trying to go back to sleep. So he got up and went down to the bathroom to take a shower. He felt that the cold water running down his body would help him forget all those dreams that he'd been having.

As Harry walked down the landing to the bathroom, he was forced to pass by Dudley's room. Harry had to endure listening to his cousin's massive snores. He tiptoed past the rooms to the bathroom, holding his breath and trying in every way possible, not to disturb the Dursleys. Harry preferred the Dursleys asleep because in their woken state, they were bound to shoot nasty glances at Harry, or say unkind or cruel things to him.

As Harry stood in the shower, cold water running down his body, he wondered how it is to live a normal life. Then he laughed at that thought as he realized that there was no such thing as 'normal' in his life and that it would possibly be so as long as he lived. Harry believed that if it hadn't been for his friendship with Ron and Hermione, he would have become mad ages ago. What with a murderous maniac after him, he didn't have anything in his life except for his friendship with Ron and Hermione without the fear of death hanging over his head. That is why his friendship was the only thing that he liked about his life. But he knew that for his friends to be safe, he would have to break his friendship with them. He didn't like the prospect and felt a pang of guilt in his chest every time he thought about it but he believed that it was for the best.

Harry suddenly realized that neither Ron nor Hermione had written to him since the last week. They had been particularly careful about writing to Harry everyday, presumably in the aftermath of Sirius' death. Harry had never bothered replying to their letters. If he wanted to get away from them, that would definitely be a start. Still, they had never stopped writing to him till last Saturday. The letters had abruptly stopped at that time. Harry often wondered why and if both of his friends were alright. But something told him that their silence was either due to the fact that he had kept quiet all through or that something that they had mentioned in their last letters had come through.

In his last letter, Ron had written:

Dear Harry,

Hope you are alright and hanging on with the Muggles. Don't worry. Dad has asked Dumbledore about getting you out of there and we will fetch you as soon as he tells us we can. Till then, hang on there mate.

You know, I have finally asked Hermione if she wanted to go out with me. She agreed. Do you believe it? Your best friends are going out on a date! I have decided to Floo to her place and pick her up. I think I will take her to a Quidditch game in London and then we can go have dinner at a wizard restaurant I know of in Diagon Alley. Do you think she will like it mate?

Hang in there Harry. I will be writing to you soon.

Bye.

Ron.

Harry was always amused by the way Ron began his letters. The opening lines were always the same with assurances about taking him away from the Dursleys as soon as possible. He had also not been surprised by Ron asking Hermione out. He had had a crush on her ever since their fourth year and although Ron hadn't said anything, Harry definitely knew that he was attracted to Hermione. Harry was happy for his best friends and hoped that their relationship would work out well. He believed that being together would help them get over his trying-to-break-our-friendship attitude and its aftermath. But Hermione's letter that day had not been very helpful in making Harry believe so. She clearly wasn't enthusiastic as she had written:

Dear Harry,

Hope you are alright. I know it must be difficult for you to live with your aunt and uncle, but you know Dumbledore thinks it is for the best. I hope you understand.

I don't know if Ron told you, but he asked me out for a date tonight. He tells it is something special that he has in mind but I just don't think that something that Ron thinks special will be good news. I mean the only things he thinks special are Quidditch, money and joke shop material. I hope our date has nothing to with any of those. Really speaking, I don't fancy going out with Ron. I mean it is nothing against him, but I just don't think that both of us are cut out for each other. In fact, it is more like the fact there can't possibly be two persons who are so opposite to each other. Still, I hope I am wrong. Maybe I have just evaluated him differently than was required.

Harry, I want you to know that I am incredibly worried about you. You have not been replying to any of my letters and I have heard from Ron that you have given him the silent treatment as well. I hope that nothing is wrong. Harry, please reply to this letter soon or I think I will have to send you a Howler and knock some sense into you.

Love,

Hermione.

Harry was much amused by Hermione's letter. Poor Hermione! She wouldn't have enjoyed Saturday. Harry knew that she hated flying and that she had never flown in the air since their third year when they had rescued Sirius on a Hippogriff. And add to that the fact that Ron was going to take her to a Quidditch game. Well, the less said the better, he thought.

Harry had thought about writing to Ron and getting him to cancel the Quidditch match and take Hermione to see a movie or a play instead. But he knew that was no good. The letter had come in the afternoon and it would be evening before Ron would get his letter. Harry sincerely hoped that Hermione would not mind what Ron had planned for them. After all, he was really excited about the date.

Since it had been a week since he had heard from both of them, Harry believed that they really had a good time and had decided to get together. After all, there is no time better than the holidays to enjoy being with your girlfriend or boyfriend. Not that Harry knew really for he never had a girlfriend. The closest he came to having a girlfriend was being with Cho Chang last year but well, that had ended up in nothing short of disaster for him.

Harry stood in the shower for a full thirty minutes as he tried to sort out his thought process. By the time he turned off the shower and went back to his room, it was a quarter to five - about two hours before any of the Dursleys decided to wake up. Harry decided to read one of his school books in order to while away his time, but after a few minutes of doing so, he decided that wasn't working.

What should I do? He thought to himself. He still had five hours before he could go to work. Yes, he had taken a summer job this year to distract him and keep him busy. He was working in a local ice-cream parlour. He did not think that was a bad job. The owner treated him well and he got a good salary, at least he thought so. The job occupied about twelve hours of his time daily and he was glad for it.

Finally Harry decided to go outside for a run in the morning. First light was just starting to creep in from the east and he thought it would be a good time to go for a run, without attracting the notice of the snobby residents of Little Whinging.

* * * * *

Harry returned to the house after the run only to find that the Dursleys had woken up and were having breakfast. They saw him but didn't make an attempt to notice him. Harry, too, did not try to strike up a conversation. He was well used to this silent treatment that he got from them. At least, they were being civil to him, no doubt due to the threat delivered to him by the members of the Order at the beginning of the holidays.

Harry showered quickly and went down to have breakfast. He grabbed a quick bite and with a polite 'I'm off to work' to his aunt and uncle, he walked off to the ice-cream parlour. He had a good day at work. There was a big crowd around and that meant that he was always pre-occupied with something or the other and had little time to think about anything else.

Harry remembered that it was his birthday the next day and he decided to take the day off from work and celebrate it. Okay, the Dursleys wouldn't notice and he would have to spend the day pretty much alone, but Harry decide to do so anyway. He could go watch a movie, and then he could have a nice dinner by himself afterwards. So he asked Mr Rickman, the ice-cream parlour owner, whether he could have the day off. He complied to his request on hearing that it was his birthday and Harry was left with the prospect of celebrating his birthday for the first time since he came to Little Whinging.

As Harry walked down to the Dursleys again towards the night, he felt a sudden sense of dread around himself. He did not know why but it seemed to him that someone, who shouldn't be there, was near him. He started walking quickly and breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the confines of Number 4, Privet Drive.

Harry could have sworn that he hadn't imagined the feeling. But he was surprised when it passed just as he entered the house. Maybe, someone was following him, indeed. Over the past one month, Harry had always practised Moody's famous words - 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE'. He was sure that he was being followed around and not just by the members of the Order but by someone else, maybe someone from the Ministry, or worse still, someone from among the Death Eaters.

Harry always had this pricking feeling in his scar nowadays. He knew that it had to do something with the things that Voldemort had been planning in order to capture power. He did not write to anyone about this feeling since he felt that the occurrence was expected now that Voldemort had returned and the news of his return had been accepted by the Ministry. Knowing a bit about Voldemort and having escaped him four times, Harry knew that he must be planning something big in order to get at him. But he was glad at least for the fact that he had not put that plan into motion yet. He felt that his scar would warn him in case anything out of the ordinary happened.

It was actually unnerving. Now that the Ministry had accepted the facts about Voldemort's return, Harry expected something to happen daily. Yet they did not. It seemed that Voldemort had just withdrawn into a shell, since the news of his return broke out in public. Harry felt a bit apprehensive thinking about this for he had expected Voldemort to do something big everyday in order to disturb the uneasy peace that lay over the wizarding world. But that did not happen. Surely the Daily Prophet would have reported if something out of the ordinary had happened. It was all the more obvious since even the cases of Muggle toilets bursting due to some kind of magic were being attributed to Voldemort and his group of Death Eaters. Harry had quite a laugh reading that article (it was probably the only time he had laughed during the entire holidays) and he couldn't help but wonder if Luna Lovegood's father had taken over the Editor's post of the Daily Prophet as well. Harry was sure that whatever evil Voldemort was up to, bewitching Muggle toilets was certainly not one of his plans.

* * * * *

Harry woke up the next morning, feeling a little dizzy. The dreams had disturbed him yesterday night as well, but he was so tired that he had slept uneasily through them. He dressed and went down to the kitchen to have some breakfast. The Dursleys were already there. Uncle Vernon was sitting with a toast in one hand and the paper in the other. Harry almost laughed seeing that a crumb had lodged itself firmly in the midst of his very bushy moustache.

He must have noticed at Harry looking at him in such a bemused expression, since he bellowed, "What are you looking at, boy? Don't you have business to mind?"

Harry sat down quickly. He did not want to start his birthday with a confrontation with someone, even if that someone was one of the Dursleys. He quickly gobbled down his breakfast while thinking that at least he got proper food this summer. Evidently, Dudley had lost quite a bit of weight (though he still looked like an over-sized hippo than a fully-grown elephant) and his school nurse believed that that much weight loss was sufficient to be going on with. So, Aunt Petunia had gone back to her argument of feeding Dudley up in order to prepare Dudley for the upcoming National Junior Boxing Championships and they had gone back to normal food, at least for the present.

After his breakfast, Harry uttered his usual, 'Going off to work' excuse and ran out of the house. He had not been foolish enough to tell the Dursleys that he had taken the day off. He decided to go to Mrs Figg's house and meet her. Since she was a Squib, Harry could at least talk to her about the magical world.

But on reaching her house, Harry found that Mrs Figg was not at home. He wondered where she was but could find no answer to his question. So he decided to go to the movies as he had planned. They were showing 'The Lord of the Rings : The Return of the King' and having seen the first two movies last year in London, Harry felt that he could, might as well pay a visit to the third instalment. As it was, he had found the films wonderful.

So he began walking back in the direction of the theatre, which meant that he had to pass through in front of the Dursleys' house. He was quite careful while passing by. He didn't want the Dursleys to catch him like that.

As Harry rounded the corner down the next block, Dudley and his minions came into view. Dudley's gang had been worse than usual. They had taken to vandalising Little Whinging during the day as well. Although the parents thought that their children were perfect little gentlemen, Harry knew otherwise. He had seen the gang yesterday mugging a young man who was obviously strange to those parts. The weirdest part was that Dudley and his gang were never caught red-handed by anyone which meant that there was no proof that they had done something. (Not that it would matter really, the Dursleys usually turned a deaf ear to all the complaints against their 'Ickle Dudders')

But today, it was not Dudley's gang that caught Harry's attention. It was the person who was standing in their midst. The gang had obviously surrounded the woman with the intention of harassing her. She looked vaguely familiar to Harry, who was staring at the group from across the block. She was obviously angry, since she was shouting at Dudley's gang, who were just laughing at her.

Harry walked slowly towards the small crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of who the woman was. He was shocked when he saw her clearly.

Harry gasped as he recognized her. There was still a gap of about half a block between them, but there was no mistaking who she was.

'No, it cannot be. She cannot be here. This isn't real,' Harry muttered to himself.

But there she was, standing and looking threateningly at Dudley's gang. A look of steely determination was on her face. But Harry still could not understand how she was there.

At that moment, she noticed Harry and said, "Hi, Harry! How are you?"

Harry swallowed. No doubt it was her. But his mind were full of questions. How could she be here? How could she be here, in Little Whinging?

Chapter Two

The Birthday & Afterwards

"Hermione!" Harry said breathlessly.

She nodded. "And who exactly were you expecting if not me?" she asked him playfully.

Harry had almost forgotten about the presence of Dudley's gang there. He was brought back out of his stupor into reality when Dudley asked him, "You know her?"

Harry nodded. "She goes to school with me. You know what I am talking about," he replied, trying to put on his most cheerful voice.

Dudley gasped. He obviously knew what Harry was talking about. He realized that the girl was a witch. He didn't want to annoy her so much so that she would turn him into a pig and so, he let out a whimper and took off down the street. His gang looked confused at seeing their ringleader take off like that; they just stared foolishly at Harry and then at Hermione. Deciding that something must be terribly wrong to have scared Dudley, they too took off after him, calling out 'Wait, Big D' at the top of their voices.

Harry started laughing and so did Hermione. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had laughed like that. They watched as Dudley and his cronies took a left turn down the street and disappeared out of sight.

After that, an awkward silence followed as Harry tried to sort out his thoughts. He obviously loved Ron and Hermione as his best friends and that is why he had decided to separate himself from them. That is why he had not written them any letters in reply to their missives. But here he was, standing with Hermione right in front of him, wanting to greet her and talk to her like the old times but refraining from doing so, so that he could stick to his resolve.

At long last, Hermione said, "Harry, are you just going to stand there and stare into the ground or are you going to ask me what I am doing here?"

Those words were enough to initiate Harry's response. Words began tumbling out of his mouth as he asked, "Hermione, what are you doing here? Where is Ron? Why are you here in Little Whinging? Is everything okay?"

Hermione laughed at this. She said softly, "Calm down, Harry. Calm down. Let me catch a breath first."

She smiled at him as she said this and Harry thought that she looked quite pretty. She was wearing blue jeans and a pink coloured sleeveless top over it. Her hair was less messy than usual, probably because she had had it cut to about three inches below shoulder length. She had, in fact, tied it in a ponytail. Harry took in her sight. She had obviously matured. She was still slender and seemed to have developed all the right curves. She had grown taller too. Harry was marvelling at how much she had changed in one month before her next words brought him back to daylight.

"Harry, are you listening?" she asked as she walked towards him.

"Uh-huh," Harry grunted.

"I will take that as a 'no'."

"So what are you doing here?"

Hermione was now by his side and she reached out to him and hugged him tightly. She let go of him then and said rolling her eyes, "I happen to remember that today's is the sixteenth birthday of my best friend and so, I came by to wish him a happy birthday. Isn't that reason enough?"

Harry was rather flattered by this remark. He blushed as he realized that Hermione had come over only for his birthday. But he hid his happiness. He knew he had to be strong. He could not go on with their friendship, since it was bound to hurt her and Ron in some way or the other.

She didn't seem to have noticed his discomfort in hiding his feelings. She reached over to him, kissed him on the cheek lightly and hugging him once again said, "Happy Birthday, Harry."

He stared at her, his emerald green eyes boring into the back of her head, "I think you should go. You are not safe here, alone with me."

She looked at him once and seemed to understand. Just like Hermione, he thought, seems to know everything every time.

She spoke to him softly, "Harry, could we go somewhere less conspicuous. I want to talk to you. How about the ice-cream parlour over there?"

She pointed out to the ice-cream parlour up the street. It was the same one in which Harry had started working.

Harry nodded at her, meaning that he accepted her suggestion. He led her up to the parlour. As they entered, one of his colleagues, Mark, yelled out to him, "Hey, Harry! What's going on? Heard today is your birthday. Happy Birthday, mate!" He held out his hand to Harry who took it and grinned at him. Mark's eyes then landed on Hermione and he gave a low whistle. "And who is this pretty friend of yours? Don't tell me you already have a girlfriend."

Hermione blushed at this, but Harry shook his head and said, "Actually, she is just a friend, from school."

Mark nodded but he didn't seem too convinced. He however didn't say anything and asked simply, "So, what would you guys want to have?"

* * * * *

A minute later, Harry and Hermione were sitting together in a booth, concentrating on their ice-creams. In fact, Harry was the only one concentrating on the ice-cream. Hermione was looking closely at him, her face etched in concern.

Hermione asked him, "Harry, are you okay?"

Harry nodded. He still didn't want to speak anything, knowing that once he started getting friendly, it would be too difficult to stop.

Hermione peered at him once again and said, "Of course, you aren't."

"What do you mean?" He lifted his head and looked straight into her eyes, trying to challenge her to saying what she meant.

However, she didn't back down either and merely said in a low and friendly tone, "You feel you are responsible for Sirius' death. No, wait ...let me finish first," she lifted up her right hand as Harry opened his mouth to speak something. "You feel that your friendship with Ron and me is going to endanger us and so, you have decided to break our friendship, not caring if we wanted to do it or not. That is why you haven't been replying to our letters. That is why we have not heard of you this entire vacation. Isn't this the truth?"

She said all these things very carefully and clearly by stressing all the right parts. It seemed to Harry that she had rehearsed this speech many times earlier. 'Just like Hermione,' Harry thought, 'Just like the one to tackle everything head on'

He felt like cowering under her piercing gaze, which reminded him so often of the hawkish way in which Professor McGonagall looked at troublemakers. But knowing that he mustn't give the feeling away, he merely replied, "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Of course you do, Harry Potter. You know very well what I am talking about."

"I don't know what we are talking about here and why."

"We are talking about Sirius. We are talking about the fact that you are not responsible for his death. And we are talking about all this because it is important for you to realize that you have never been responsible for hurting anyone. It is important for you to realize it so that you don't hurt anyone else, for example, Ron and me. You don't understand Harry but you are withdrawing into a shell and that is not a good way to live your life. If you think you are keeping us safe by withdrawing, you are wrong. It is your indifferent, confused and unfriendly behaviour that is hurting us. It is this that has disappointed us."

"Don't tell me how to live my life. I-" Harry began hotly.

"I am not telling you how to live your life. I am not trying to direct you or command you. I am trying to help you. You don't realize this Harry but do you know how much you have hurt Ron and me by not replying to our letters. Here we are writing everyday like mad, hoping to get your response and you choose not to write. And we are just left wondering whether those relatives of you have kept you alive or dead? And you think that you are doing the right thing?" As she was saying this, the colour rose in Hermione's cheeks and she looked positively livid.

Just as she said this, Mark came over and said, "So what are you two quarrelling about?"

Harry said, "Please Mark, we are not quarrelling. Why don't you go back and do some work. I believe those boys over there are asking for something."

As Mark departed to the other booth, Hermione asked, "So, how do you know him?"

"I have taken a summer job here in this ice-cream parlour. The Dursleys don't mind since the Order warned them last year and I can keep busy by doing this," Harry replied dully.

Hermione nodded in understanding. She reached over and took Harry's hand in her own. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and said, "Harry, you have to come out of your self-imposed shell. You have to live life as you once did. You have to go out there without fear or apprehension. That is what you need to do. That is why you need to get over Sirius' death."

"And just who are you to tell me what I need in my life?" Harry spoke coldly and as he said this, a cold light flashed in his eyes. Hermione was suddenly scared. It was as if someone else was sitting before her and not Harry.

But she didn't get bogged down. She knew she must persist, for the good of her best friend, for the good of everyone who knew him and looked up to him.

"I am your friend, Harry and I am trying to help you," she said.

Harry looked at her. He could see that she was a bit scared at what he had said. He was sure that he had not intended to speak what he had spoken. 'Voldemort! It must have been him,' he thought angrily.

His features softened once more as he spoke, "Sorry, Hermione. It's just that I don't feel like talking about this now. I don't think I am ready yet."

"All right, Harry. If you want that, I suppose it's your own decision. But I want you to know that if you ever feel the need to talk to you, I will be there for you, so will Ron and Dumbledore and Lupin. You don't know Harry but there are so many people around who care for you. You just have to give them a chance to show it"

Harry nodded at what she said. He understood. He felt his resolve of breaking the trio evaporate into thin air. He decided to play the part of the procrastinator and postpone it for sometime later. He decided to just have a good time on his birthday with his friends.

Another period of awkward silence followed in between them. Harry was rather surprised at this. For one, he had never had any problem talking to Hermione, or to Ron for that matter. In fact, it was always Ron and Hermione who sometimes, felt awkward around each other. This was a new phenomenon and Harry was not sure if he liked it.

So, in a bid to break the silence, he asked her, "So where is Ron?"

Not for the first time since Hermione had met him that morning, she looked worried. She merely shrugged her shoulders and said, "I don't know. He was supposed to come here by Floo powder. We had decided to be here by ten. But I don't know. Do you think he is all right?"

"Knowing Ron and his family, I daresay he will be all right. Anyway if he is travelling by Floo powder, he should be all right. I mean he has used it many times before, hasn't he? He has even been in Little Whinging once-" he broke off suddenly and groaned as he remembered the time when the Weasleys had travelled to the house by Floo powder.

Hermione looked surprised, "What's the matter, Harry? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, it is. At least, I hope so. Come quickly. We have to rush. No time to explain," he grabbed her hand and made his way to the counter where Mark was. Harry was about to pay him but Mark stopped him.

"Go on, mate. Just consider it a birthday gift."

"Thanks mate," Harry smiled at him and taking Hermione hand, he took her out and started walking quickly towards Privet Drive.

"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione was asking, but Harry just seemed to ignore her. He continued to lead her quickly to Number 4. When they reached there, Harry told Hermione to stand there quietly while he went inside and checked things out.

He went inside the house on tiptoe, careful not to let Aunt Petunia know that he was there. He went quietly to the living room and surveyed the fireplace. There was obviously no sign of anything out of the ordinary having happened, so he heaved a sigh of relief. Evidently, Ron hadn't chosen to come by their fireplace. He went back outside and nearly dropped down dead in shock when he saw Aunt Petunia leaning over the fence and talking to no one other than-

"Hermione!" Harry muttered to himself. "Now what am I going to do to get her away from the gossip?"

Fortunately, Harry did not have to worry about that as Hermione politely detached herself from the conversation and made her way towards the direction of Wisteria Walk. Harry was thankful that she was doing so. It would be a few steps lesser that way.

After successfully avoiding his aunt, Harry rejoined Hermione about half a block down. She was shaking her head and muttering something to herself. Harry came up from behind and asked her, "What's the matter?"

She looked up at him and asked, "That your aunt?"

Harry nodded. She said, "Well, I talked to her for about one minute and it took me half that much time to realize how horrid she is."

"What do you mean?"

"She started asking me about who I was and what I am doing here and to whom I am related and all those things of that sort. She was about to introduce me to some Dudders, I think that would be your cousin, (Harry nodded) so that I could enjoy some quality company during the time that I am in Little Whinging," Hermione shuddered at the very thought of spending time with Dudley. She was already hacked off at him for the way his gang had tried to harass her when she had asked him directions for Number 4, Privet Drive.

Harry grinned at her reaction and said, "Glad to see that you met my relatives and found them interesting."

Hermione did not say anything but gave a snort. Harry burst into laughter just as Mrs Figg's house came into view. Hermione followed suit and soon they were bursting with laughter. They had to catch hold of the fence in order to prevent themselves from falling to the ground and rolling to the ground.

Someone inside appeared to have heard their laughter as they realized that the door to the house opened and a shadow fell across the ground.

"Harry! Hermione! Thank God I found you at last," came Ron's voice.

They looked up to see Ron standing in the drive of Mrs Figg's house, grinning at them.

"So, Ron," Harry asked, "A little late, are we?"

Ron looked sheepishly at him and said, "I got kinda caught up with Mrs Figg. She insisted on hearing everything that was going on."

"What does that-" Harry started but he interrupted himself. "Wait, how do you know her?"

"Well, you see she was a friend of my mother's," came Ron's reply. "She insisted on hearing everything that was going on with her. In fact, she was laughing to the fact about how Mum reacts to Fred and George's antics when I heard your laughter and came out."

Harry beamed at him; evidently all the thoughts that he had harboured of breaking the famous trio had been evaporated and passed into the next century.

They stood there, and Harry and Ron started talking about Quidditch. Evidently, the Chudley Cannons (Ron's favourite Quidditch team) had been taken over by some very rich wizard businessman from Russia and they had made quite a few signings. With the new players, they were going great guns and were on top of the Quidditch League. Ron was even more delighted to tell him that the support for the Tornadoes had halved overnight and most of the bookies now believed that the Cannons were the favourites to win the League for that year.

[A/N: In case you just wondered, yes, the take on the Cannons is inspired by Roman Abromovich's takeover of the English football club, Chelsea.]

Ron went on, ranting about the prospects of the Cannons and Harry found his attention wavering. As much as he loved to play Quidditch, Harry did not have Ron's extensive knowledge about the different Quidditch teams of England (being in the Muggle world did not help him) and so, he had much more difficulty in keeping up with who was who and what was what in the National Quidditch League of England.

Just as Harry was about to stop Ron, a voice came from inside the house, "Ron, are you going to just bore them off there or are you going to stay out there? I have to wish Harry a happy birthday, you see."

Harry thanked his stars that Mrs Figg interrupted their one-track conversation. He went inside and as he entered the house, his stomach did a back-flip. Enchanted balloons were hanging from the walls. Over the mantelpiece, he saw a large photograph of his and over that, it was written 'Happy Birthday, Harry.'

In Mrs Figg's living room, there were people crowded all around. Harry spotted Mrs Weasley along with Fred and George. There was also Remus Lupin and Tonks. Ginny was there and her boyfriend, Dean Thomas was there at her side. Neville was there as well. Harry noticed Ron clench his fist as he looked in Ginny's direction. Clearly, he was still not happy about her relationship with Dean. Hagrid occupied half of the room by himself and that made the place more crowded than it could possibly be. As Harry entered, flanked on both sides by Ron and Hermione, they yelled out loudly, "Surprise!"

Harry walked into a roomful of hugs as everyone wished him a happy birthday and gave him presents, and a lot of them at that. Soon, he was opening presents at everyone's behest. Harry never had so many presents in his life. Ordinarily, his birthday consisted of solitude and a few presents from his friends. But today, for the first time in his life, he was having a proper birthday.

There was a huge cake that had been baked by Mrs Weasley herself.

When he cut the cake, Hermione told him, "Make a wish, Harry."

Harry made his wish and blew out all the candles in one go. He cut the cake and with that, the party began in earnest. There was music and dance. Evidently, the party had been very well-planned.

And yes, there was food. Lots of it. Evidently, Mrs Weasley had been camping out at her friend's place since last night in order to help them prepare for the party. Harry looked at Mrs Figg and noticed that she looked happier than he had ever seen her (which was only about four or five dozen times). Everyone looked quite merry. In fact, the only people, Harry noticed, who were evidently feeling awkward were Ron and Hermione. Harry followed them for some time and he saw that they were walking around the room, talking cheerfully to everyone but always conveniently avoiding each other. Harry wondered what was with those two.

Fred and George were up to their usual antics. They had evidently made something called the Ghost Line which made anyone walking over it take up the appearance of a ghost for a minute. Neville was their favourite target, as he went about looking straight ahead. After about half an hour when they had succeeded in turning almost everyone into a ghost and had been threatened by their mother, they stopped and began using some other tricks.

Ignoring these antics, Harry walked over to where Ginny was standing. Dean was now engaged in a conversation with Lupin nearby. He greeted Ginny and she wished him a happy birthday.

He asked her, "What's the matter with Ron?"

Ginny smiled and said, "Oh, he is just angry that I brought Dean along to the party. Honestly, everyone has accepted that he is my boyfriend but dear old Ronald just refuses to acknowledge that fact."

Harry listened to her but this was not the answer he was looking for. He shook his head and said, "No, not about that. I am asking about what's up with Ron and Hermione?"

A look of comprehension dawned on Ginny's face. She said, "I don't know. I mean, ever since Ron came back from their date, he has been keeping to himself. I think the only time they communicated after that was when we started planning for the party. I think their date did not go too well."

Harry understood. That would certainly explain a lot of things. He decided to just let the issue rest for the moment. 'After all,' he thought, 'Ron and Hermione don't need by help in this. They can sort everything out themselves.'

"So," he asked Ginny. "What is the theory of this noon-time party?"

Ginny giggled. "That? You have to give credit to Mum. When she asked him about whether we could have you over today, Dumbledore told her that we had to wait for another day. But then, she decided that we had to celebrate your birthday under any condition. Apparently, Dumbledore told her that the only way she could celebrate the birthday with you was to through you a noon-time party and that is what she went about doing."

"So you mean that all this has been arranged by Mrs Weasley," Harry asked her, an incredulous look on his face.

Ginny nodded, "With some help from Mrs Figg of course."

"Wow," Harry exclaimed. "Now I know from where Fred and George got the genes to be what they are."

Ginny laughed at this remark. The party went on smoothly till about four in the afternoon. It was at that time that the doorbell rang. They were in the middle of dancing to some tunes played on the Wizarding Wireless Network that Mrs Figg had. Harry had noticed it for the first time. He was dancing with Hermione, who was equally bad on the floor - she was still avoiding Ron and vice versa.

They were still dancing when the door to the living room opened once again and Mrs Figg came in, followed by Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked grave. There was no twinkle in his sky-blue eyes and he was seemingly very tense. Harry took it as a bad sign. Evidently, something had happened that had unnerved him and Harry thought that the prospect was too scary for words.

As Dumbledore entered, everyone stopped in their tracks. He surveyed the room and then motioned to Hagrid, Lupin, Tonks and Mrs Weasley. As they came near, he whispered something to them. 'That is odd,' thought Harry. He had never seen Dumbledore being so secretive.

After the discussion had taken place, Dumbledore disappeared through the door along with Hagrid. Mrs Weasley, meanwhile, came back to the rest of them and said, "Harry, I am sorry, but we have to go. Albus told us to."

She cleared her throat loudly and announced, "Everyone except Harry, Hermione and Arabella here have to make way for Headquarters by using a Portkey. Harry, Hermione, dears, you have to stay here with Arabella. You can just go back to your uncle's place and collect all your luggage. Tell them that you are going away for the summer and come back here. Albus will tell you what to do next. Hermione, you are also to stay here. Do not leave the house, especially you, Hermione. Am I understood?"

She glared at all the occupants of the room as if daring anyone to ask a question. Everyone nodded. Even Fred and George were unexpectedly compliant. It seemed that they had realized the urgency of the situation.

"Harry, I think you should go now. Arabella, if he does not come within an hour, inform us immediately. You can do so, now that you have a Floo connection," Lupin said.

Mrs Figg nodded. Harry said goodbye and ran off to his house. He had thought about this day every day of his holidays. He always wanted to be free from the life at Privet Drive and now, he was sure that he was to go away until the next summer. He knew he should be happy, but something forbade him. Something gave him a strange sense of foreboding and apprehension. He was quite wary as he made his way to his uncle's house. He knew something had happened, something big.

It was afternoon still and so, the house was empty except for his aunt. Harry packed his things up and told his aunt that he was going away for the rest of the holidays. She did not seemed to mind in the least.

It was about forty-five minutes after he had originally left Mrs Figg's house that Harry returned there. He saw that the Weasleys had gone, along with Dean, Neville, Lupin and Tonks to 12, Grimmauld Place, the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione was sitting there alone in the living room, her head in her hands. She was visibly shaking from fear. Meanwhile, Harry could hear Mrs Figg working in the kitchen.

They waited there alone for what seemed like hours. Around eight, Mrs Figg asked them to have dinner. In spite of the sense of dread, Harry felt hungry. So, he got up with Hermione and had their dinner with Mrs Figg. After that they went back to waiting for the next instructions.

It was past midnight now, and Hermione was sleeping quietly with her head on Harry's shoulder. Mrs Figg was sitting across from them, pretending to read a magazine. But she was clearly waiting for some sign, some indication of what was happening and what would happen next.

Suddenly the doorbell rang and Mrs Figg sprang to life. She went to the door and let Professor Dumbledore in. Hermione was still asleep and Harry woke her up gently. She sat up and began rubbing her eyes.

"Hermione, I think it is time for us to leave," Harry told her softly.

She nodded. Just then, Professor Dumbledore came into the living room. He asked Harry, "Have you got your luggage?"

Harry nodded.

Dumbledore continued, "Very well, we will be leaving in five minutes."

"But Professor, where are we going?" Hermione asked him.

"You'll see. I am afraid I cannot say anymore just now," Dumbledore replied. Harry could have sworn that Dumbledore seemed weary and sad.

Just then, Harry heard an owl come through and it handed over a letter to him. He looked at Dumbledore with raised eyebrows. Sirius, Ron and Hermione had been the only person who corresponded with him. Dumbledore motioned him to take the letter. He was about to open it when he help up his hand and said, "Later, Harry."

After a couple of minutes, Dumbledore performed the levitating charm on Harry's trunk and took it in his hand. He did the same for Harry's Firebolt and Hedwig's cage. They were both held by Harry. (Hedwig had gone off to hunt for the night.)

Dumbledore motioned them to gather near the Portkey. It was a simple flower vase that was broken near the base. They grasped the vase together. Dumbledore was counting "Three...Two...One...Here we go."

Harry felt the now familiar jerk behind his navel and he soon found himself on the floor of a well-kept house. Hermione looked around and suddenly, she turned to Dumbledore and asked, "Professor, why have you brought us to my home?"

Harry understood now. So this was where Hermione lived. But Dumbledore did not seem to notice Harry's curious glances at the moment. He placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder and said softly, "Miss Granger, I am afraid your parents have met with an accident. And I mean a 'Death Eater' accident."

Hermione sank down to the floor. Harry felt his heart skip a beat. He was shocked and stunned. Suddenly, he remembered his wish while cutting the cake. He wished with all his heart now that he had not wished for what he did.

Hermione seemed to regain a bit of her composure and she asked with tears in her eyes, "Are they okay? Are my parents okay?"

* * * * *