Chapter Three
Several hours - and many sticky tissues - later, Harry found himself sitting on his old, beaten mattress. The sun was still three quarters of the way through the sky so he thought five o’clock must have been quickly approaching. He rather resented going downstairs. It was something he had managed to avoid thus far. “Well, here goes,” he sighed, fighting the excitement welling in his abdomen. He wondered how Uncle Vernon would negotiate the feelings of elation that Harry was leaving and the anger at being in the presence of wizards.
“What are you doing down here?” bellowed Dudley (Diddykins to his mother). He had heard the horrendous thunk, thunk, thunkof Harry’s trunk coming down the stairs. Harry was saved from comment when Hedwig, stuffed into her cage, picked that moment to beat her snowy wings and screech in an attempt to get out. Dudley’s face blanched at the bird, who seemed to be more than a little mad, and he ran from the stairs.
Harry chuckled. Ever since Dudley had watched the movie The Birds a few weeks before, he'd been even more frightened of Harry's powder-white owl.
As Harry rounded the corner, his aunt, uncle and cousin were all standing together behind the couch, no doubt to put a bit of distance between them and the boy. All eyes were narrowed. “We’d prefer that you stay in your room,” said Vernon bluntly. He seemed to register something a minute later and continued. “Why is your trunk packed?”
Harry didn’t mistake Vernon’s question for anything except suppressed glee. Harry had never left this early. However, they didn’t want him there as much as Harry didn’t want to be there. “Well, I decided to move into the kitchen, you see-“
“Oh no you don’t!” screamed Petunia. Everyone knew the kitchen was still Dudley’s favorite room.
“I was kidding you. I’m leaving, in case you couldn’t tell by my packed trunk and the fact that I’m carrying my owl in a cage,” said Harry, annoyed with how slow they were to catch on.
Vernon’s eyes bulged, which was rather disquieting because his eyes were rimmed with red and bloodshot. “They’re . . . No! They’re not coming here!”
“Well, yes,” replied Harry coolly. “Seeing as how I’m here and they’re coming to get me. Hmm," he said, screwing up his face. ”Yep, makes sense to me.”
“Don’t you get smart with me, boy. If your aunt and I didn’t generously take you in, you’d be-“
“Dead, yes, I know. Big deal.”
Vernon seemed shocked at such a casual answer. Harry’s eyes met Petunia’s and for an instant he thought he saw sadness in her eyes. Just then a hard, echoing knock came from the back door in the kitchen. Vernon set his jaw- Harry could almost hear his teeth grind- and strode pompously toward the door. As soon as he unlatched the lock the door burst inward and in streamed four fully-grown wizards: Moody (with his roving magical eye), Tonks (who was looking quite ravishing with long blond hair and purple eyes), Kingsley (regal as always), and Arthur (looking nervous and apologetic).
Arthur Weasley stuck out his hand. “Mr. Dursley. We meet again. Sorry for the rush. We didn’t want to be seen and cause a commotion.”
Harry felt Moody’s eye on him.
The Dursleys were shocked into silence. Mr. Weasley seemed to be making a determined attempt to be pleasant to the Dursleys. The last time he was there he blew their fireplace all over the living room. However, in his defense, that was an accident.
“It’s no problem, Mr. Weasley,” Harry said. “Let’s just go.”
“Not just yet, Harry,” said Tonks. Harry groaned, waiting to witness another scene.
Moody, the one who threatened Vernon the most, stepped forward. “Why does Harry have a black eye?” he growled.
“What? I have no idea!”
Harry desperately wanted to see Moody set his uncle straight, but as he wanted to leave, he opted for the truth. “I fell earlier, Professor. The Dursleys didn’t do anything.”
“He’d better not be lying, Dursley. You and I don’t like each other much, “Moody growled. Dudley scoffed at this and Moody glared at him before continuing. “But there are things more important than your animosity. I’ll put it simply: The more helpful you are to our cause, the safer your family will be. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Vernon turned a pretty shade of puce. “You want MY help? You threaten my family in the first place by dumping HIM on my doorstep, and then try to say you can save me from the danger he brings us?”
“Enough, Dursley,” Kingsley said in a booming voice. “We think it’s time you recognize our kind and stop unleashing your misplaced anger on Harry.”
Petunia started, as if to say something, but then the sour look quickly returned to her face as Vernon bellowed, “GET OUT!”
Harry could tell his uncle would love to resort to physical assault at this point, but he knew he would not win against wizards. He contented himself with screaming over their shoulders while Mr. Weasley grabbed Hedwig’s cage. Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk, and the group scuttled into the back yard. The door slammed behind their backs. Fortunately they were safe from prying eyes by the thick shadows and the tall fence Vernon installed.
“I’m sure glad I made my backside small today,” said Tonks. “That door would have taken it right off!”
“This is no time for humor,” growled Moody. “These are dangerous times. Harry, have you learned how to Apparate yet?”
His blank look was answer enough. “Thought as much,” Mad-Eye grunted. “Over to the Frisbee then.”
The truth was Harry had read the Apparition Guide, but the words left only the vaguest impression on his mind. He was always thinking. . . about other matters.
“Ten seconds to go,” said Arthur, looking at his watch. “And three- two- one-“
The familiar feeling of a hook behind his navel took hold and off Harry flew through space.