Responsibility
Harry awoke the morning after his birthday in a panic. Too much had happened too soon. Not only had he been given his own class and club to instruct, he had been set up as the new leader of the Order of the Phoenix. A class and club he could handle, but the Order, he couldn’t handle it. No matter what his friends said, he didn’t feel as though he could.
He pulled himself up so he was sitting up against the headboard. Fawkes was asleep with his head tucked under his wing; Hedwig was in the same position. Sirius was asleep at the base of the bed, one head with one eye open. Harry swung his legs over to the floor and stood up. Looking around the room, he made his way over to the three trunks of his mum, dad, and Sirius.
Opening Sirius’s, he found the wooden box with The Marauder‘s Box .
He tapped it with his wand. “More Mischief.”
Etchings started to appear in the wood on top of the box.
Messrs. Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs
Purveyors of Aid to Magical Mischief-Makers,
And Makers of the Marauder’s Map
Are proud to present
THE MARAUDER’S BOX
Warning: Any bodily harm that befalls the user of the box is not the responsibility the Marauders.
Harry was eager to see the contents of the box. He opened it quickly and three objects flew at him. A bag containing a sticky substance in soared up and burst over Harry first, then a bag of feathers flew and exploded, the feathers sticking to Harry head and torso, and the last was a large bag of Dungbombs. The bombs hit Harry squarely on the forehead and burst. From the smell that was now engulfing Harry’s head, Dungbombs grew more effective over time.
Harry stood, shaking his head, and stumbled to the bathroom. Looking in the bathroom cabinet mirror, he saw that he resembled a large chicken.
“Bugger. I’m going to kill Remus.”
He marched down to the room he knew Remus was using. “REMUS, GET YOUR MARAUDER ARSE OUT HERE!”
Harry heard movement behind the door. After a few moments, the door opened and Remus appeared, looking very startled.
“Harry, what’s…oh,” he said, catching sight (and smell) of Harry.
“That bloody box.”
Remus was having a hard time keeping his face straight. “I should have warned you James and Sirius liked planting booby traps for each other in the box. Judging from the Dungbombs and chicken feathers, I’m going to have to say, Prongs has struck for one last time.” Remus grinned at Harry. “Ruddy hell, Harry, you stink.” At this, Remus could no longer resist breaking down into hysterical laughter.
“Thanks for the support and offering to help me get washed up, Remus, I really appreciate it.” Harry grinned at the hysterical man.
“Sorry, Harry.” Remus waved his wand and the feathers and sticky substance disappeared; however, the smell of Dungbombs hung in the air. “I bet James and Sirius are up there right now laughing their heads off,” said Remus
Harry grinned and walked off to have a very overly scented bath. Once he got out, he walked back to the Box. He cast a quick shield around himself and opened it. Nothing else jumped out.
Inside the box was larger than the outside. Scattered around were books, rolled up parchment, vials of potion, and a large bag. Pulling up one of the books, he saw on the cover, the diaries and journal of Mr. Prongs . Harry gaped at the book. Pulling out the three other books he saw there was a diary and journal for each of the Marauders.
Harry grinned. For the next few days he was going to have some very interesting reading material.
Narcissa Malfoy was on her way to meet one of the Carrows. The walk over the Salisbury plains had taken a while and she was approaching Stonehenge. Alecto Carrow had found the location of Draco from the Dark Lord and Narcissa need to know her son was safe and sound. She new that Voldemort would most likely torture him for not fulfilling his task, but he would not have been killed.
The night was dark and the new moon shone down onto the flat fields and woodland of the plains. Stonehenge stood dark shadows with a glowing light in the middle. The sight was highly peculiar to see.
She stepped over the wire the Muggles had placed around the monument and approached the centre. It was then she saw it -- a pure white stag stood proudly in the middle, at its feet lay the torn, trampled and mangled body of Alecto Carrow. She was breathing, but only just.
“Malfoy…run!” the broken woman yelled with the last of her strength as her head fell and she spent her last breath.
Narcissa turned and ran. She couldn’t Apparate because of the ancient wards surrounding the monument and the surrounding seven miles.
She turned and tripped, landing face down in the mud. She heard a bark that sounded like laughter. She looked up into the gleaming eyes of a large bear-like dog. She stood, staring at the dog. There was something eerily familiar about it. It was then she heard a stamp of a hoof behind her. Standing behind her was the stag. Its large hazel eyes bore into her own.
The stag took one step towards her, and she slipped on the mud behind her and fell down hard. The dog gave another bark, which sounded just as mocking as the other bark had. She realised where she had heard that laugh before -- her cousin used to laugh like that, but he was human, and he was dead.
She again stumbled to her feet and ran, slipping and sliding. She could hear the pounding of the stag’s hooves and the padding of the dog’s paws. Her heart was in her mouth as she ran.
She dove into the undergrowth, fighting her way through to the wooded area. Looking behind her she couldn’t see either the dog or the stag. It was then she heard the stamping, and looking forwards she saw the stag running towards her, its head lowered. It hit her shoulders, pinning her against a tree. She felt the warmth of her own blood trickle down from the puncture wounds the stag had caused. It threw her.
She hit a tree and crumpled into a heap. She ran again, not caring where, as long as she was away from the creatures hounding her. She tripped and rolled down the hill, she landing on her face down on the smoothness of the concrete and tarmac. Looking to her left, she saw light, and the rubber and metal of a tyre as the truck wheels went over her head.
From the side of the road, the stag and dog looked at each other, a silent agreement passing between the two. She would be the first of many Death Eaters to do down.
Harry had enjoyed reading his dad’s journal. He had only reached Christmas of James’s first year at Hogwarts, but they had already challenged Snape, fallen in love, and gotten a prefect in to trouble. Harry couldn’t wait for James’s latter years to begin.
Harry had gone down to the kitchen at seven and was reading the diary propped up against the milk jug. He chuckled as he read one of his dad’s many attempts to woo Lily Evans.
12th December 1971
Lily, Lily, Lily. I have fallen in love. I‘m only eleven, but I have met the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Sirius is telling me to get real, Remus tells me to find someone else, and Peter just shrugs. I‘m sending her roses for the days leading up Christmas, building up and up. I‘ll see how it goes.
21st December 1971
My head is smarting, but compared to by ego and feelings, it is nothing. Lily figured the roses were me. She got flowers, I got bloody thorns, by that I mean a big scene in the common room, I got a slap and she marched up the stairs. I won’t see her until after New Year. Maybe Dad will be able to help a little.
Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the nerve of his dad. As Harry snorted into his cereal, Remus and Tonks walked in.
“Hey, Harry, what’s up, another Dungbomb accident?” Remus asked, he ruffling Harry’s hair.
“No, something with flowers, Christmas, and pretty red head.” Harry hid the book behind his back. He wanted Remus to guess what he was on about.
“Already planning on how to woo Ginny at Christmas Harry?”
“No, this redhead was known as Lily Evans and someone by the name of James Potter sent roses to her over Christmas. Your first year.”
Harry watched as Remus face went from confused, to a grin, to laughing. “Bloody hell, I forgot about that. And your mum threatened to dunk him in to the lake.”
Harry brought the book round and scanned through it. “He doesn’t say about that.”
“Is that James’s Marauder diary? I totally forgot we had those. Were they in the booby-trapped box?”
“Yeah, I’m still going through Dad’s, then Sirius’s, then yours, and then I might go through the rats.” He grinned.
“Well, in first year, the others didn’t know about my ‘Furry little problem’, so they were just private journals. In fifth year we all figured the others were keeping them, so we just banded together to keep them.” Remus’ eyes grew misty-eyed as he remembered.
They spent the next hour discussing the Marauder days, when the flames of the fire turned suddenly to the emerald ones of a Floo activity. Ginny slid out. She got to her feet, brushed herself off and looked around. The sight of her caused Harry’s heart to flutter.
He smiled, and beckoned to her. “Call me when the meeting starts, Remus. And if Ron and Hermione arrive, please send them to my room. I have something I want to show them.”
He and Ginny walked up to Harry’s room. As soon as he shut the door they were in each other’s arms.
“So, Mr. Potter, what did you want to show me?” She flashed a flirtatious smile and kissed him on the cheek.
“It isn’t anything like that Miss. Weasley, so get your mind out of the gutter. Aren’t you hot, Ginny? I mean, wearing that in this weather.” Ginny was wearing a large, black cloak.
“Well, yes. I just didn’t want Mum, Dad, Remus, or even Tonks to see what I’m wearing.”
“And just what are you wearing?”
She took the cloak off and flung it to the bed. Harry felt his face going red and his eyes roamed her body. She wore a knee length skirt and a low cropped top, both of which clung to all her curves.
“Harry, you look like a fish. But I take it you approve?”
“Y…Yes. But Jesus, Gin, please don’t let Ron come in and find you dressed like that. Never mind Voldemort, Ron’ll kill me with his bare hands.” Harry quickly put a warning charm on his door and walked over to Ginny. “Now I can take advantage of this situation.”
He put his hands on Ginny’s waist and pulled her into a kiss. Her hands slowly made their way around the back of Harry’s neck and played with the hair at the nape. His made their way up the back of her shirt, feeling along the soft, velvety skin. And very slowly he ran his fingers gently up and down her spine.
They had just fallen back on to Harry’s bed when the room was filled with a soft buzzing.
“Damn. Ron and Hermione are here.” They stood up, smoothing their clothes. “Here, just so Ron doesn’t get you into trouble with your mum, and I don’t get into trouble with your brothers.” He flicked his wand towards her, and the top and skirt were replaced with a t-shirt and jeans.
Just as he put his wand into his back pocket, the door opened. Ron’s eyes flew to Harry, then back to Ginny. He looked as if he was trying to figure out what had happened before he had arrived. Convinced nothing dodgy was occurring between the two, he nodded and became less tense. Hermione smirked slightly.
“Harry, Remus said you and Ginny were up here, we, or rather, Ron thought we had to get up here quick for some reason.” Hermione smiled apologetically towards Harry and Ginny.
“You said you wanted to show us something, Harry.” Ginny looked up at him.
“Urm. Yeah. Here, look.” He walked to the cloth-covered bike and ripped the cover off. “It’s mine since Sirius left everything to me. What do you reckon?”
“Blimey, Harry. You never told us that Sirius had a bike.” Ron looked at the bike lustfully. “For a Muggle vehicle, it looks good.”
“I read the manual that was in Sirius’s trunk. It’s a Harley-Davidson Pan Head. And Sirius added some features that’ll take you and me back a bit, Ron. Do the words Ford Anglia mean anything to you?”
“It can’t, can it?” Ron looked like he had fallen in love with the bike.
“From the foot notes Sirius, my dad, and Remus made in the manual it can.” The two girls were looking at Harry and Ron in puzzlement.
Finally Hermione spoke up. “What are you two on about?” Ginny nodded, desperate to know as well.
“Do you two remember how we got to school in our second year?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, you drove Dad’s c…ar.” a look of enlightenment fell upon her face. “It doesn’t?” Harry nodded.
“What? I still don’t get it. You flew Mr. Weasley’s car…” she trailed off. “Oh,” was all she said.
“Hermione, you’re the brightest one here, so how come it took you longest to get it?” Ron looked at her.
“I have other things on my mind, Ron,” Hermione said quickly.
“Like-?”
“Enough, Ron,” Ginny said.
Harry noticed Hermione give Ginny a thankful look and turned. “We’d better get down to the meeting.” Hermione left the room with Ron trailing her.
Harry turned to Ginny, “What was that all about?” he asked.
“Hermione has a crush on Ron, Harry,” She said. “This may come as a- what are you laughing at?”
Harry was bent double laughing. “About time, she only just realised how she feels about him? I saw this coming since that row in fourth year over Krum.”
They left the room laughing about their love struck friend. Now, all it needed was for Ron to realise it, Harry thought bitterly.
Harry arrived in the kitchen just as the remaining Weasleys arrived. Professor McGonagall indicated he should sit down in the chair at the head of the table. A lot of familiar faces looked up at him: Flitwick (the charms professor), Hagrid, Moody, Kingsly Shacklebolt, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George Weasley, Neville’s grandmother, Mundungus Fletcher (whom Harry didn’t like as he had been caught stealing old stuff of Sirius’s), along with Remus, Tonks, McGonagall, and a lot of other people Harry didn’t know.
McGonagall stood. “We are here to induct four new members into our midst, and assign our new leader. Will Harry James Potter, Hermione Jean Granger, Ronald Bilius Weasley and Neville Longbottom, please come up here?” Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville approached McGonagall. “You are now enrolled into the Order of the Phoenix--” There was a loud trill and Fawkes flew in and settled on Harry’s shoulder. “--The first and last line of defence against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” she continued. “The conditions are you will not tell anybody of what you know, you will not betray anyone in this room, and as long as there is a breath in your body, you will fight against You-Know-Who and his followers. You will sign your name on this contract with your wands and state what your wand is made of. This will be done in anti alphabetical order. Weasley, you first.”
Ron stepped forward, and spoke while signing his name. “Fourteen inches, willow, unicorn hair.”
“Potter, you next.”
Harry signed his name and spoke, “Eleven inches, holly, phoenix tail feather.” Harry stepped back.
“Longbottom.”
Neville stood up and spoke like the others while signing. “Twelve inches, cherry, unicorn hair.”
“And finally, Miss Granger.”
Hermione scribbled her name and spoke clearly. “Nine inches, vine wood, dragon heartstring.”
“Very good. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom, you are now members of the Order of the Phoenix.” She allowed herself a rare smile. “I know you’ll do us all proud.”
She turned to the other members, “Now on with business. Professor Dumbledore has expressed the instructions of the Order as of follows; in event of his death, he has insisted to place Mr. Harry James Potter as leader of the Order. Unless Mr. Potter can think of a reason not to be put in leadership.” She turned to Harry, “Bear in mind, Harry, that it can be a big responsibility.”
Harry took a deep breath. “That’s just it, Professor, I can’t I have too much responsibility laden on me as it is. A class and club to instruct, and now the leadership of the Order. I’m only seventeen and I can’t hold such responsibility. Maybe when I’m older and wiser. I would still like to know what is going on, and I might have things to say about some choices. Professor Dumbledore left me something to do, and it is imperative that I do it. I might need help, and I might ask assistance from the Order. But apart from that, could you possibly take the position Professor McGonagall?”
“Harry, are you quite sure about this?” McGonagall asked him, her eyes boring in to his.
“Yes, Professor. But as I said, as long as you keep me up to date on what is going on in the Order.”
“I will be happy to do that.” She turned to the assembled crowd. “And I believe that is all we had to discuss today. I will alert you to the date of any future meetings ASAP.”
It was nearing one when Dudley and Aunt Petunia came downstairs. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were talking loudly about Harry’s new teaching position.
“I still can’t believe it. Me, a teacher.” Harry still wasn’t sure weather he’d make a good teacher or not.
“Harry, you’ll make a brilliant teacher! If it weren’t for you, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna, and I wouldn’t have lived this long,” Hermione was arguing. “You’ve duelled Voldemort himself and lived. How hard can a class be?”
It was then the Dursleys entered. Dudley walked in confidently, while Aunt Petunia peered warily around the door and entered slowly.
“Hi, Duds, Aunt Petunia. Do you know anything about Uncle Vernon?” Harry tried to look concerned.
“Not yet,” said Aunt Petunia mournfully. “Oh, and Harry, I understand it was your birthday yesterday. I have a present for you, whenever you’re ready for it.”
Ginny looked shocked. “YOU DIDN‘T EVEN KNOW WHEN HIS BIRTHDAY WAS? WHAT KIND OF FAMILY ARE YOU?” Harry was pleased to see his aunt cower under the rage of his girlfriend. “FROM WHAT HE’S TOLD ME, YOU DIDN’T EVEN THROW HIM A PARTY OR CELEBRATE HIS BIRTHDAY AT ALL! YOU AND YOUR HUSBAND ARE MONSTERS TREATING A SMALL ORPHAN THE WAY YOU DID! AND IF YOU THINK MY YELLING’S BAD, JUST WAIT TILL MY MUM GETS HERE!”
Aunt Petunia seemed to be sizing up Ginny. “And just who do you think you are?”
“I AM HARRY’S GIRLFRIEND! AND YOU ARE SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T EVEN DESERVE TO KNOW HIM!” Harry was trying hard not to laugh when he got between the two.
“Okay, Ginny, chill, she’s trying to be nice to me for a change. Aunt Petunia, if you yell at my girlfriend one more time, I will have to jinx you. Now play nice and say sorry, or I’ll have to jinx both of you.”
They both looked down at the floor. “Sorry, Harry,” Ginny muttered looking at her feet; Harry could tell she was humouring him.
“Sorry, Harry.” Aunt Petunia’s was more of a whisper, but it was an apology.
“Now, Aunt Petunia. Where is the present? I’ll see it, and then Mad-Eye and i will take you to see Vernon.”
Aunt Petunia nodded. “Here, follow me, I redid your garden it now looks semi-respectable. I had a little help from her with the pink hair and her husband.”
She led them out into the back garden. It was very long and wide. Around the edges there were thick bushes, at the end there were three small wooden buildings, and in front of them there was a small Quidditch pitch, carpeted in ash felt. Then there was a large pool, and the rest was lawn and patio with lawn chairs and tables littered about.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked around in amazement.
“Uh…Ron, reckon we should call your brothers and test out that pitch?” Harry could see Ron had his mouth open.
A strangled moan came out of Ron’s mouth. “Crap, Harry. This is brilliant. I wish this was my house.”
That gave Harry an idea. “Well, I was going to invite your family to live here, until the end of the war, anyway. Too many people know the location of the Burrow. And you’re all targets. A.) you’re my family,” both Ginny and Ron blushed at this, “and B.) Your family are one of the biggest bunch of blood traitors there has ever been. Do you reckon they’ll agree?” Harry was hoping beyond hope that Ron would say his parents would agree. He wanted his family in one place, Ginny especially.
“Well, the thing that might do it is the protection, but if you do the whole ‘you want your family in one place’ thing, she buckle at once.” Ron was smiling as if Christmas had come early.
“Harry, did you say you’d take us to see Vernon now?” Aunt Petunia spoke from behind the four teens.
“Yeah, I’ll go get Mad-Eye.”
Harry, Mad-Eye, and the Dursleys approached the receptionist at St. Mungo’s. They could only see the top of her head. She was reading Witch Weekly. Harry could see that the page she was reading had a large picture of himself on it.
Potter of Age
He rolled his eyes and approached the desk. He felt awkward talking to the top of the girl’s head. “Urm…Hi. Here to see Vernon Dursley.”
“Name?” she asked, not looking up at him and sounding bored. Harry felt like he knew the voice.
“Harry Potter. Now could I please see my uncle?”
The witch looked up sharply. Harry now knew why he knew her.
“Cho? How long have you been working here?” he looked at his ex-girlfriend in astonishment.
“Harry! I’ve been here for about a week now. How are you?” She looked nervous.
“Not bad. You?”
“It gets boring here. Not much to do but read.” She tried hiding the article she had been reading under some paperwork on the desk.
“Potter of age, huh? Wonder how long it took them to come up with that?” He grinned.
“Y…Yeah. You want fourth floor, spell damage.”
They left her. Harry shook his head. Why had his ex-girlfriend seemed so nervous around him? He bent and spoke to Mad-Eye. “Hey, Alastor. When we get time, we need to pick up a copy of Witch Weekly. I want to see what got her so worked up.”
Mad-Eye nodded. “Yeah, can’t be that bad, can it?”
“Depends if it was written by Rita Skeeter. If it is, then it will be bad.”
Moody chuckled. “Fair point. Once called me a blind, paranoid cripple, if you can imagine that.”
“When was that?”
“About a week ago.”
They laughed. “How do the press know I’m of age?”
“Ministry. We can just thank Merlin the Ministry don’t know about the prophecy, otherwise the press will be all over it, like leprechauns to gold.”
They eventually found themselves on the fourth floor. There was another receptionist. Harry was sure last time he was here there had only been on reception point and no security. Pointing this out to Mad-Eye he got growled at. “Ministry thinks now we are at full war we need security everywhere.”
Harry walked up to the witch, who was about three years older than him, he was glad to see there wasn’t a Witch Weekly in sight.
“Harry Potter to see Vernon Dursley,” Harry said.
“Harry Potter? For real? I… I mean my sister loves you. Can I get an autograph?” The witch grinned hopefully.
“If it’ll get us in to see my Uncle quicker, sure.”
She opened a drawer and pulled out a copy of Witch Weekly. The large photo of him on the cover smiled reluctantly out. He picked up a pen and scribbled his name over the cover.
“There, can we go in now, please?”
“Sure. Follow me.”
They followed the witch down a long corridor; Harry glimpsed Alice Longbottom shuffling around the closed ward. They came to door which read: Private.
“He woke up yesterday. He’s been through a lot, and he’s a bit confused. He won’t be permanently damaged, but he is quite weak and unable to get out of bed,” she said as she opened the door. “He’s asleep at the moment, but if he should wake up, don’t get him too excited. He doesn’t really like magic, does he?”
“Not a lot,” Harry replied.
They shuffled in. Uncle Vernon was pale and waxy. It looked strange, as Harry was used to him being red and purple. His eyes were closed. The magical monitors next to him were recording his vitals and brain activity. Dudley and Aunt Petunia sat next to his bed Dudley was trying to keep his tough front on and Aunt Petunia was sobbing into a handkerchief, while Mad-Eye and Harry held a whispered conversation.
“Alastor, I really feel like I should interrogate Snape. If I’m there, I can make him loose his composure and he might let something slip,” Harry said to Moody.
“I think you’re right kid. And if all else fails, we could force feed him Veritaserum. What I want to know from you, Harry, and I’m being deadly serious, is how you beat him. He is a very powerful wizard and an expert in duels.”
“There’s an old magic. Blood magic. Using the blood magic, you can bind your wand to you. It makes it more powerful and gives you more control. I did it after Dumbledore died. The curses I used on Snape had my whole power put behind them. If you do that hardly, any shield known will be able to block it. That’s why I was so breathless afterwards.”
“I think it would be better if we kept this to ourselves. You might want to advise Hermione, Ron, and Ginny to do the same, though, it would help protect them.” Moody had a thoughtful look on his face
Harry nodded, “Yeah, I was going to. I was also going to show a few of the key members of the Order. McGonagall, you, Remus, and whoever you see fit.”
“Yeah, I can see why Dumbledore wanted you to take leadership of the Order, you have some good ideas.” Moody smiled.
The two Dursleys stood. “We could do with a drink, or something,” Aunt Petunia told Moody, he face looked as though it were on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
“Right. Harry are you okay to stay here, while I take these two up to the restaurant area?” Harry nodded.
Moody took Harry’s cousin and aunt out of the room. Harry walked up and looked into his uncle’s large face. He had liked Vernon least of all out of the Dursleys, unless he counted Vernon’s sister, Marge. Looking down at the sleeping man, it seemed foolish to Harry that this was the man he had feared for most of his life.
At that moment Uncle Vernon moaned, he then opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Harry. They bulged alarmingly.
“YOU!” He tried to push himself up, but lost the strength and fell backwards.
“Hello Uncle. And no need to thank me for saving your life and sanity.”
“You ungrateful little-” But Harry had had enough.
“No, you’re the ungrateful one, VERNON. Two years ago I saved your son’s life, and yesterday I saved your entire family‘s life.” Harry stared with complete hatred at his uncle. “After all the crap you people have put me through, I should have let the greasy haired git kill you, and then I could have saved my own life.”
His uncle’s face was slowly gaining more and more colour, but Harry really didn’t care. “You made me sleep in a cupboard, for Merlin’s sake, Vernon. You let your bitch of a sister torture me every time she came round. You made me do everything you didn’t want to do. Your son only got off his fat arse to tease me and best the crap out of me. Well guess what? The Death Eaters know about your family, and now they aren’t going to leave you alone. You are now living in MY house. And you are going to follow my rules. If you don’t, you can go back to Privet Drive and die for all I care.” Harry’s temper was slowly draining. He had wanted to say this stuff to his uncle for years.
A loud sniff came from the door. Harry and Vernon turned to see Aunt Petunia with Dudley behind her. She was looking at Harry with, Harry gasped, could that be pity?
“Is that really how you feel, Harry?” she asked her voice was quivering.
Looking at her face Harry could tell she was truly sorry, he didn’t care. He was sorry, sorry his mother had had a sister. “Yes. Now say goodbye to your pig of a husband, we’re leaving. I have business to attend to.” He turned on his heel and left.
Dudley and Aunt Petunia had gone upstairs the minute they returned from St. Mungo’s and hadn’t come down. Harry was fuming. He was out in the garden, swinging a Beaters bat, while two Bludgers rocketed around.
He had tears in his eyes. He had gotten off all the pressure that had built up over the years at Privet Drive. But now the look on his Aunt’s face kept coming back to haunt him, he could not help but feel guilty, but then he reminded himself of what she and her family had put him through since arriving on their doorstep.
A Bludger came flying towards him, and he swung and hit it head on. It flew towards the house and embedded itself in the wall. As it freed itself, the dent in the wall closed up.
Moody had warned Ron, Hermione, and Ginny about Harry’s mood. They knew from experience to let him blow off steam before approaching him. Floating off into his thoughts, he suddenly got hit in the chest, throwing him backwards and into one of the tables his Aunt had set up.
He had completely forgotten about the Bludger. It turned and to attack him again, but he turned and hit it skyward. As it flew back down, he lunged at it and, while restraining it, strapped it back into the box.
Feeling better, Harry went into the house to help Ron, Ginny, and Hermione get settled in to their respective rooms.
A/N: Next Chapter: warning: overly emotional. Child abuse.
Chapter Four: red and George looked as though they had been slapped. “Blimey even we didn’t take our first shot that well.”
“Well Harry’s first shot was when he was two months old. Sirius and James thought it would be funny, baby Harry loved the stuff. Lily wasn’t too happy though.” Said Remus.