It was the middle of the summer following Harry’s Fifth Year at Hogwarts. Having survived the horror of the night at the Department of Mysteries, Harry had arrived back to the relatively normal, albeit lonely existence of living with the Dursleys. While normally Harry would have been counting down the days until his return to Hogwarts by now, this summer was different. Harry actually welcomed the break from the wizarding world. He needed time to recover emotionally from what had happened.
For the first time ever Harry was beginning to properly appreciate the ancient magic that protected him as long as he resided with the Dursleys. He felt weak and susceptible to attack. In his current emotional state it was a relief to know that here he could find built in protection that did not require the use of his wand or his constant vigilance for that matter.
Harry, of course was still vigilant. Well, after everything that happened it was hard not to be. But at least he could rest relatively easy knowing that more than his eyes were keeping an eye on things. Despite the lack on contact with anyone from the magical world, Harry sensed their presence on Privet Drive and was comforted by it.
It was a rough summer on the teenager, once again having to cope with coming to terms with a major loss in his life. He found that the weeks spent at the Dursleys had not left him feel all that much stronger, emotionally at any rate. Harry had not heard from any members of the Order of the Phoenix as to when he would be removed from Privet Drive. He assumed that they would come for him when it was safe, and until then decided to spend his time enjoying the sheltered security of living with the muggles.
It wasn’t as if the Dursleys were any better behaved than previously. They were as obnoxious and rude as always. But this seemed to have less effect on Harry this year than previously. More often than not he did not rise to his cousin’s jibes, he didn’t feel irritated by Uncle Dursley referring to his magical abilities as an ‘oddness’. He didn’t even seem to truly notice Aunt Petunia’s obvious dislike whenever he ventured into the kitchen to eat with them.
Only once had Harry’s temper come to the fore while he had been staying with them. Uncle Dursley had been complaining as always about how scruffy he looked, how he was only half the boy that Dudley was (Harry felt a third would have been closer to the mark). Annoyed at Harry’s lack of response, he had loudly enquired as to why his Godfather had not requested that he stay with him for the summer, instead of landing him on their doorstep once again.
Harry had felt his temper rising when Uncle Dursley had inferred that perhaps even his Godfather could not bear his presence for two months every summer. Before he knew what was happening, the lights in the living room began to blink dangerously. The Dursleys had hopped up looking frightened and stared at Harry who was glaring back at them unblinkingly.
“You, you know what happened last time you did magic outside of school boy,” Uncle Dursley stuttered. Harry came to his senses just in time. Taking many deep breaths he calmed his anger and as he did so, the swaying, blinking ceiling lights began to steady and glow more normally. He had turned and walked back upstairs to his bedroom, leaving the Dursleys to stare at each other in fear.
Since then Harry had been careful never to let his anger get away from him. He knew that the Order of the Phoenix had enough to worry about without him being hauled up for violating the Underage use of Magic laws once again.
Two weeks before the end of August, Harry received an Owl. It read as follows:
I hope you are well H.
Please look after packing up your trunk and schoolbooks. Expect us tonight at 11 pm. Yours, Wolfsbane
Harry stared at the note for a moment, instantly recognising that it was Remus that was using the pen name of Wolfsbane. The note didn’t say where he would be staying for the next two weeks. Instead of bring filled with excitement and happiness at the thought of meeting his friends and returning to the magical world, Harry’s thoughts were clouded with the depressing image of Grimmauld Place. He didn’t see how they would take him anywhere else.
Above all, Harry didn’t want to return there. It was bad enough that the house itself was depressing, dark and gloomy, but it was more the fact that he knew his godfather had spent the end of his life living there, deeply unhappy and unable to do much about it. Harry hated to think of Sirius there.
Sirius had been through enough in Azkaban, for him to have spent his last few months in the gloom and oppression of Grimmauld Place upset Harry greatly. He did have some happy memories of Sirius there, like the Christmas when he, Hermione and the Weasleys had stayed there. But for every happy memory, Harry’s mind was assaulted with ten opposing ones.
Harry dragged himself upstairs and set about repacking his trunk. He had not had much interest in reading this summer so most of his schoolbooks remained untouched at the bottom of the trunk. When finished he sat on his bed until 10.55 pm and then dragged his case downstairs to the hallway.
He found Mr and Mrs Dursley in the sitting room and told them in a monotone voice that he would be leaving that night. He stopped their instant questions as to how he would be travelling and who would be coming to meet them, by telling them quickly that people would be arriving in five minutes and it would be best if they didn’t hear the Dursleys being in any way rude to him.
This quietened them down considerably. Moments later, Harry heard a distinctive popping sound in the backyard, following by an urgent tap on the back door. Drawing his wand out of his pocket, Harry opened the door cautiously. “Hello Harry, ready to go?” said a voice from the darkness. Harry felt relief creep over him when he heard Lupin’s voice. He quickly grabbed his trunk from the hall, dragged it into the backyard, and giving a final wave to the Dursleys, stepped outside the backdoor to rejoin his friends in the magical world.
The journey back to Grimmauld Place by broomstick was just as cold and uncomfortable as the last time that Harry had completed it. In some respects this trip was much more nerve wrecking though. Harry was fully aware of the risk he was under as soon as he left The Dursleys.
He was also acutely aware of the risk that he was putting those witches and wizards under as they strove to protect him in the night skies. He could see Tonks zooming past on the left, while Moody circled on his right. Lupin was up ahead “ his eyes scanning in every direction while a number of witches and wizards that he didn’t recognise continued to take turns on every side of him, switching and moving in formation “ all the time on high alert for anything unusual. Harry was extremely relieved when Lupin signalled the descent and almost fell forward on his numbed knees when his feet finally touched the ground.
Wearily he found himself in a tightly knit group of witches and wizards that made their way down the windswept street. “Harry “ I need you to repeat the location to yourself,” Harry heard Lupin whisper.
Harry understood immediately and whispered to himself, “The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."
Just as it had done previously, Number Twelve miraculously appeared between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen on the darkened Street. The bunch of witches and wizards hurried to the door and Moody let them in. Everyone remained quiet and tense in the hallway as Professor Moody magically resealed the door. Harry sensed that the house hadn’t lost any of its gloom in the time he had been away. If anything, a feeling of evil seemed to pervade it. Harry felt a hand on his arm guiding him towards the kitchen and he allowed himself to be steered along.
The kitchen felt warm “ there was a large fire burning in the grate. Harry found a chair near it and dropped into it, staring at its leaping flames. He remembered the time when he had appeared here to talk to Sirius and Lupin. He remembered how Sirius had knelt in front on the fireplace “ gazing at him in concern at his sudden appearance. He remembered the relief in finally being able to confess everything that he had seen in Snape’s pensieve to Sirius. He remembered Sirius trying to explain what his father had been like back then, trying to help him understand that his father hadn’t just been a complete bully, but a rather spoilt and uncontrolled teenager.
Then Harry remembered the last time he had made an appearance in the fireplace. He remembered calling Sirius’s name in panic, willing him to respond. Harry shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts. There was no point in reliving it anymore. It was enough that he relived it every night in his dreams.
“You okay Harry?” Lupin asked gently sitting in a chair opposite Harry. “I hope the summer wasn’t too severe on you.”
Harry smiled and shook his head. Lupin looked tired. His robes were as tattered as ever and he had a lot more grey hair than previously. There were shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep, or worry or grief, or maybe all three. Harry couldn’t really tell.
He shook his head again and replied, “I’m fine Remus, really. Its just strange being back here.”
Lupin sighed. “I know what you mean Harry. I find it hard to believe at times that I am here, and Sirius is not. While he never enjoyed being here, I have to say that I was always comforted by the knowledge that he would be here whenever I got back from a mission for the Order.”
Harry looked at Lupin sitting lost in thought as he gazed into the flames and thought once again of how much everyone had suffered over time.
He felt the weight of gloom that seemed to invade the house, begin to settle heavily on him, but before he had any more time to dwell on it, Mrs Weasley bustled in. “Harry!” she exclaimed dragging him from his seat into an enormous motherly hug. “Oh its so good to see you! My, how tall you have become.”
Remus had noticed it too. “You’ve shot up Harry, you must be a good 3 inches taller since last I saw you.” Mrs Weasley summoning them to help her with supper interrupted him. They all dutifully began helping her, setting the table, gathering glasses, knives and forks.
“You haven’t asked about Ron and Hermione, Harry. I thought you would be shooting up the stairs to catch up with them as soon as you got in the door,” said Lupin as he placed the dinner plates on the kitchen table.
Harry felt himself tense at the mention of his friends but couldn’t quite be sure why. “I thought I would just take a moment to get accustomed to being back here before meeting them,” Harry replied.
Remus seemed to accept this reply and continued to work on preparing the table for supper. “Well, they are bound to be hungry too, so do you mind going upstairs to call them?”
Harry dutifully left the table and headed for the hallway unaware that he was being watched closely by Lupin. A worried look crossed Lupin’s face as he watched the young teenager dejectedly leave the room.