Harry had no intention of going to the Wizard Bank, as he walked down the cobble stone road. He knew it would be a stupid idea, considering the fact that he had no money there. He also found several large gold coins on the road, and pocketed them. He could tell by the inscriptions on the front that they were money, because they were very similar to the inscriptions on the silver coins that he already had.
“Where should I go now?” Harry asked the voice under his breath, so no one around him could hear.
For once, the voice was silent. Harry smirked, knowing that he was being terribly annoying to the voice. Just the fact that he was fighting back made him feel stronger. Harry listened for a minute, and was pleased when the voice didn’t make another sound.
Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by a several terrified, high-pitched screams. He turned around quickly, his eyes searching for the source of the screams. The town was so crowded that, in spite of his efforts, it was impossible to see past the sea of people.
He shoved the people around him, trying to go towards whatever lay ahead of him. He was unsure of why he was running towards the screams, because all his life he’d been much more timid and shy. All Harry knew, as he ran closer and closer, was that he had to find out what was causing the screams of terror.
As he pushed and shoved through the crowd, Harry accidentally knocked over several people who were in his way. When he reached the end of the road, Harry saw a crowd of people running amuck, as wizards in long dark robes holding thin wands walked among them, shooting spells in every direction.
Harry pulled out his own wand, a rush a bravery running through him, and thrust it out in front of him. “Incarcerous!”
Ropes that materialized out of thin air instantly tied the cloaked man nearest to him. He let out a cry, and struggled to get out. Harry fell back, hoping the cloaked man’s comrades wouldn’t notice him…at least not yet.
Retreating behind a nearby wall, he pulled out the spell book that he’d bought only an hour or so before, and opened it to a random page. Inside, there was a list of spells. Searching frantically, and glad he was hidden, Harry looked at the first spell that caught his eye: Flipendo.
Even though he had absolutely no idea what the spell would do to one of the cloaked men, Harry threw himself out from behind the wall, and thrust his wand forward.
“Flipendo!” he yelled with all of his might.
For a second, Harry thought that the spell hadn’t worked. Then, he felt the air condense, and the cloaked wizards nearest to him were blasted into the air by a swift wind. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the air returned to normal.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and pointed his wand at the next group of cloaked men, muttering the spell under his breath. The effects weren’t as drastic as the first time he’d tried the spell, but he wasn’t disappointed. The entire group was knocked off their feet, and fell into the dust in a heap.
Startled, they looked around for the culprit of their misfortune, and they set their eyes on Harry. He instinctively took a large step back, barely avoiding the first out of a sea of spells heading his way. He ducked behind a corner, and began to run as fast as he could away from the men.
The spells were barely missing him, and most of them hit and smashed windows of the stores. Harry turned a corner, hoping to throw them off. He pointed his wand over his shoulder awkwardly, and began shouting all of the spells he could think of.
“Incarcerous! Flipendo! Aguamenti!”
Harry could hear the rush of wind and water together, as he turned another corner and continued to move quickly. He kept running, making sure that he avoided people on the street who were unaware of the danger behind him. When he was absolutely sure he’d lost the strange men in cloaks, he stopped, taking in deep breaths.
He hadn’t realized how far away he was from the inn, and because he took so many turns, he had no idea where he was. He looked around, hoping to see something he recognized, but there was nothing in sight that he remembered.
Trying not to panic, Harry began to walk quickly down the street he was on, wondering where he was. After a moment or two, he saw a row of little shops. After taking a look closer, Harry drew back. None of the shops had the cheery welcoming air that the shops in Diagon Alley had. In fact, all of them seemed to be saying, stay back and don’t come near.
Harry wandered down the cold, uninviting road. There was no sign of any people anywhere, and Harry didn’t blame them. He wouldn’t want to spend his free time in on a street like this either. A battered, broken sign at the end of the street called it Knockturn Alley.
Harry began to feel extremely tired, so he sat down on a bench that was beside a huge pillar of stone. He wished that there was some way he could get back to the Leaky Cauldron, and be safe in his room. He screwed up his forehead in concentration, trying to ‘magic’ himself away.
Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. Something was squeezing him into a giant rubber tube. He felt his lungs beg for air, and he gasped. As soon as he had the chance to panic, he felt the tube around him loosen. Harry blinked, and pushed his glasses up on his nose.
Somehow, miraculously, he ended up back in the Leaky Cauldron, just outside his room. Harry looked around cautiously, then looked at his wand in amazement. Not only could he perform magic spells, but he could also whisk himself away to any location!
“I love magic,” muttered Harry happily under his breath, admiring the magic wand with an air of awe.
Harry opened the door to his room, and was surprised to see that a brownish owl was sitting on his bed next to Hedwig. She looked rather surprised herself, and Harry was pleased to see that the brown owl had a letter attached to its leg.
Harry walked over to them, and pulled the roll of parchment off its scaly leg, and hastened to open the letter from the unfamiliar owl. It was longer than any of Ron’s letters, and the handwriting was much neater.
Dear Harry,
I know you are probably tired of getting messages, but I hope you’ll read this if you get it. Ron told me that he and Hermione were sending you letters, so I thought I’d give it a try too, even though you haven’t replied to any of them.
First of all, where are you? I’m really worried about you. I miss you a lot too. I we agreed that you weren’t coming back this year, and that we weren’t going to be together anymore, but I want to know that you’re all right.
Sixth year is going fine. I received mostly O’s and E’s on my O.W.Ls in all of the practical subjects, and I got a P and a D in Divination and History of Magic.
The Quidditch team isn’t the same without you. Ron is the captain of the team now, and Dean is playing Chaser for Katie Bell. A fifth year named Amy took over my place as Chaser, and I’m the new Seeker. We’re just behind Slytherin for both the House and Quidditch Cups, but Ron is confident that we’ll win the next match. I sure hope so, because if we win then we’ll be in first place for the Quidditch Cup.
We have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Her name is Professor Moonstone. She is nice, but extremely strict (kind of like Professor McGonagall). Once, I got something in my essay wrong, and took off half of my points! We also have a new Transfiguration teacher. His name is Professor Grainy. He is really meek, and he lets us do whatever we want. By the way, Slughorn is the new head of Slytherin.
If you could see Hermione, you would laugh. She’s been studying like crazy trying to prepare for her N.E.W.T. test, and she’s driving Ron crazy too. They are Head Boy and Head Girl. By the way, I am a Prefect now! I was really surprised, because usually Prefects are named in fifth year, not sixth.
McGonagall is the new Headmistress, and she seems a little stressed out. We hardly ever see her, except at meal times.
Anyway, please write me back as soon as you can. I know Hermione told me not to worry, because you’re probably fine, but it would be really nice if I got a response from you.
Ginny
While Harry was reading the letter from Ginny, he felt a different feeling in the pit of his stomach than he did when he read Ron’s short letter. Ginny’s letter, although he understood very little of it, made his stomach jump for joy at every word. Something about her letter was familiar to him, and something about her made him smile for the first time in the past few hours since his duel with the cloaked wizards.
“Who am I?” he whispered to no one in particular, “Why is this happening to me?”