Harry Potter And The Secret Of The Scar

 
 
Harry picked up the envelope and watched as the owl gave a dignified hoot and flew of into the darkness. Why was Hogwarts writing to him so early? He usually didn’t get the letter from Hogwarts until around the second week of August. Curious, he ripped open the envelope.
He was even more surprised to see that the list didn’t contain the usual list of books and supplies. He diverted his eyes from the letter (that was the only thing in the envelope), and cast an eye over the gleaming new broomstick that lay on his bed, as though this would tell him why the letter was being written. It was a moment before he remembered that he had eyes with which he could read the letter.
 
Dear Harry,
 
I would like to give you some very important news, and it is best I do so without much preamble. Voldemort tried an attack on Hogwarts today.
 
Harry gulped. Everyone said that Albus Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort was ever afraid of, but it looked like he was slowly gaining courage. He had received owls from Ron and Hermione (Ron especially) during the holidays, and every single letter had contained news about Voldemort killings. This was the first time he had tried an attack on Hogwarts, though.  He read on:
 
By a fortunate circumstance of events, no one was hurt, and he escaped. I am sure that you know, and even if you don’t, you are old enough to know, that his prime target is you. He has not tried anything for the two years since his rebirth, but I cannot say when he will attempt to shorten your life span. Thus, in your best interests, The Order of The Phoenix has passed an order asserting that you undergo SPIT (Socket-Popping Intensive Training) till the start of the school year. One can never be too careful. Please be ready at 5 pm today (July 31^st). We will be arranging transport for you.
 
Yours sincerely,
 
Albus Dumbledore
 
Harry frowned. He really wasn’t in the mood to have his sockets popped. But still, Voldemort could kidnap him for Hogwarts…He was lost for a moment, remembering their last encounter in his fourth year. He comforted himself with the thought that The Order of The Phoenix (The organization started by Dumbledore to battle Voldemort) had not yet taken a wrong step, and this may not be the first time they would do so. And with that, Harry threw himself onto his bed and sank into a troubled sleep.
 

* * * * *

The next morning, Harry suddenly realized that he hadn’t any idea what schoolbooks he was going to need. “Oh well”, he thought, “if I get killed by Voldemort they probably won’t insist I do my last year.”
 

* * * * *

Harry sat nervously on the living room couch. He glanced at the clock above the fireplace. Five minutes to 5 o’clock. He suddenly wondered why he wasn’t feeling all that scared. It wasn’t as though discovering that Dark wizards were after his life was a part of his regular routine. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were shooting resentful looks at him. Dudley was nowhere in sight. Harry chuckled softly. Dudley had emerged from his previous two meetings with wizards (other than Harry) with a pig’s tail and a three-foot long tongue respectively.
 
Something suddenly occurred to Harry, and his heart suddenly gave an enormous leap, and almost immediately after that, sank. This was going to be his last year at Hogwarts, so after that, he was free to choose his career in magic. But where would he stay? He knew Ron would be glad to take him in, but he didn’t want to impose on Mr. And Mrs. Weasley.
 
“You!” Harry was suddenly jolted out of his reverie by Uncle Vernon’s harsh voice. “ Who’s coming to get you?”
 
“Oh, I dunno,” he replied. “Like you care,” he added in an undertone.
 
“How’re they getting here?” he demanded.
 
“Dunno.”
 
“If they get here like they did last time, I swear I’ll… I’ll…” He was swelling up like a balloon, and he looked remarkably like a very fleshy beetroot with hands and legs.
 
 A high-pitched scream suddenly erupted from upstairs.
 
“Dudley!” screamed Aunt Petunia, and she bolted from the room. Uncle Vernon grabbed a flower vase, and flinging the flowers to the floor, hurried after her.
 
Harry’s curiosity got the better of him, and he followed.
 
Just as he’d reached the landing, he heard voices from Dudley’s room, or rather, one voice and Dudley’s intermittent whimpers.
 
“ Shut up, yeh great prat, yeh don’t want a curse, do yeh?” Harry’s heart leapt, and grin spread across his face. It was Hagrid, and he was clutching a torn newspaper in one hand and was holding Dudley by the ear with the other. Harry realized that he must have arrived by Portkey.
 
“Let go of him you… you…” Uncle Vernon gave up trying to string words together and went at Hagrid with the vase, letting out a cry very much like the trumpeting of a wounded elephant, though wounded elephants would have been disgusted on knowing that they had been compared with Mr. Dursley.
 
However, it was very much like an ant trying to attack an elephant (no relation to the wounded elephants mentioned earlier; just a figure of speech: Vernon Dursley was no ant, though Hagrid might’ve been able to hold his own against a few elephants), Hagrid calmly grabbed him by the front of his shirt and flung him across the room.
 
“Shut up Dursley, and don’t give me an excuse to twist yer head off, I don’t attack unless, I’m provoked, and yer big fat loony son went for me with a cricket bat.”
 
Hagrid spotted Harry at that moment, and his frown twisted upwards to form a smile.
 
“How yer doin’ Harry? Them Muggles givin’ you a hard time?” He didn’t even wait for Harry’s reply. (To Harry’s dismay; he had had a nice sarcastic reply to that one) “ Ha! Well, Harry, yeh say bye ter them, ‘cos yeh’r not going ter come back here are yeh?” No, yeh’ll be a fully qualified wizard!   
 
“Ah, well, can’t afford ter waste me time, gots ter take a rubber glove in five minutes ter Hogsmeade, and walk up ter Hogwarts.”
 
He fished around in his pockets for a minute and extracted from one of them an old and worn out rubber glove. He beckoned Harry forward, and Harry caught one end of the glove while Hagrid caught hold of the other end.
 
“Er. Well, bye then,” said Harry uncertainly.
 
The Dursleys looked as if they had just been told that they were the Royal Family of England. A lifetime devoid of Harry Potter was hard to believe, but they had just heard Hagrid say Harry wasn’t ever going to Privet Drive.
 
“Well! Bye, my jolly good fellow!”
 
“Yes, bye Harry!”
 
“Does this mean I can have his room back?”
 
And Harry, feeling quite astonished, felt the telltale jerk behind his navel, and whooshed off, landing on his back a few moments later on top of Hogsmeade Mountain.