章 414: 0413 The Last Day
The Last Day of July
The relentless heatwave that had gripped the area for the past fortnight reached its peak on this scorching day, the final one of July.
The scorching temperature caused the beautiful lush raspberries in the garden outside Number Four, Privet Drive to droop their heads listlessly. Even the lush green grass on the lawn had taken on a yellowish tinge.
Despite the suffocating heat, the road outside remained impeccably clean, as though even the dust dared not settle on its surface. The air shimmered slightly, creating an almost mirage-like quality to the deserted street. Not a single soul ventured out into this furnace-like day; the residents of Privet Drive had wisely retreated into the sanctuary of their air-conditioned homes, leaving the outside world to bake in eerie silence.
Within the stifling confines of his small bedroom at Number Four, Harry lay sprawled on his bed, feeling as wilted as the plants outside. Though he hadn't caught sight of his reflection in a mirror, he was certain his spirits must be as low as the drooping flowers in the Dursleys' garden. The cause of his wasn't solely attributed to the fact that the blazing sun had rudely awakened him well before six in the morning. No, there was another reason, one that he found difficult to express even to himself – today was his birthday.
For the first eleven years of his life, prior to his life in Hogwarts, this supposedly special day had held no real significance for Harry. The Dursleys, his only living relatives, had never once acknowledged the occasion. In fact, it often seemed as though they got a perverse pleasure from assigning him extra chores on this day, as if to emphasize just how little he meant to them and how insignificant his existence was in their eyes.
However, the past three years since his entry into Hogwarts, his birthday had finally gained some semblance of meaning and joy. His best friends, Ron and Hermione, along with Hagrid, never failed to remember the date. They took great care in preparing something special for him, be it heartfelt cards, thoughtful gifts, or in Hagrid's case, a somewhat questionable but undeniably well-intentioned cake.
This year was no exception. A collection of birthday cakes, cards, and carefully wrapped presents had already arrived, buried away under a loose floorboard in his room.
This year was even more special because earlier in the year, something he had dreamed of for fourteen years had finally come true—he now had a real family member.
Just a few days ago, Sirius, who had been missing for half a month, had finally sent word. In his reply to Harry, he said he would arrive at Privet Drive before the last day of July to take him away from this house.
Since receiving that letter, Harry had been consumed by eager anticipation. His mind constantly wandered to vivid daydreams of celebrating his fourteenth birthday surrounded by warmth and genuine affection – with Sirius and the loving Weasley family. However, as the hours of his birthday ticked by with no sign of his godfather, a creeping sense of disappointment began to take hold.
Despite his unwavering emotional faith in Sirius– the harsh reality of the situation was beginning to weigh heavily on his heart. As much as he tried to rationalize the delay, to conjure up plausible explanations for Sirius's absence, he couldn't help but feel a bit disheartened.
The ancient clock on Harry's bedside table, a hand-me-down from Dudley like everything else in his possession, showed it was approaching half-past eleven. It was going to be Lunchtime, yet the usual shout from Uncle Vernon summoning him to the dining room remained conspicuously absent.
Harry knew, however, that if he didn't make an appearance downstairs within the next ten minutes, Aunt Petunia would invariably materialize outside his door. With cat's steps, she would approach, leaving a plate of food. A timid knock would follow, and before Harry could even respond, she would hastily retreat, leaving the meal as though it were an offering to appease some temperamental deity.
Sigh—
A deep, weary sigh escaped Harry's lips as he surveyed his messy room. Clothes lay strewn about, spell books were piled haphazardly on his desk, and owl droppings from Hedwig dotted the floor near her cage. With great reluctance, he hauled himself off the bed and trudged towards the door slowly.
If circumstances beyond Sirius's control had indeed delayed his arrival, Harry thought that he would at least make an effort to assert his presence in the house. He was tired of being treated like a ghost, mute and invisible, for the rest of his time under the Dursleys' roof.
As Harry descended the stairs, the sounds and smells of the Dursley family's lunch wafted up to greet him. The three members of his adoptive family were already gathered in the dining room, a scene of domestic normalcy that always seemed to exclude him.
Uncle Vernon's considerable bulk was mostly hidden behind the morning's copy of the "Daily Mail," his fat face just visible over the top of the newspaper. The rustle of pages turning was mixed with occasional grunts and muttered comments about the state of the world.
At the kitchen counter stood Aunt Petunia, her horse-like face pinched in concentration as she meticulously divided up the family's lunch. With practiced precision, she placed half of the bacon and grilled sausages onto Harry's designated plate(this wasn't the rule before, but since the start of this summer holiday, Harry had his own plate). This equal distribution was also a recent development; prior to this summer holiday, Harry's portions had been significantly smaller. Whether this change stemmed from fear of Sirius or a grudging acknowledgment of Harry's growing needs, he couldn't be sure.
Of the remaining half, Aunt Petunia allocated two-thirds to another plate – undoubtedly Dudley's – while the final third was split equally between two smaller portions, presumably for herself and Uncle Vernon.
Dudley sat at the dining table; his beady eyes fixed on Aunt Petunia's every move. It was clear from his expression that he was acutely aware of which portion was destined for his plate. His face bore an even sulkier expression than usual, if such a thing were possible. Despite being on a diet mandated by his school nurse, Dudley seemed to be taking up more space than ever, his massive frame stretching the limits of the sturdy dining chair.
The tension in the room was palpable as Aunt Petunia prepared to bring the food to the table. Dudley, realizing this was his last chance to protest the unfair (in his eyes) distribution, finally erupted.
"It's not fair!" he roared, his multiple chins quivering with indignation. "You always give him the most!"
Aunt Petunia's pursed lips trembled at her son's outburst. Her eyes, already watery from the strain of the past few weeks, began to overflow with tears. "Oh, my sweet darling," she began, her voice wavering, "It's not because... we've discussed this before. The school nurse thinks... well, she thinks you should control your nutrient intake appropriately."
This explanation, rehearsed and repeated countless times over the summer, couldn't convince Dudley at all. His face reddened, nearly matching the hue of the bacon on his plate. "But that freak can't even finish it!" he shouted, jabbing a pudgy finger in the direction of Harry's portion.
At this latest outburst, Aunt Petunia's composure finally crumbled. Tears began to stream down her bony cheeks as she wrestled with the conflicting desires to appease her beloved son and sticking to the diet plan. The stress of the summer – caught between Dudley's new dietary restrictions and the unwelcome boy in the house – had taken its toll. She had lost countless hairs, and dark circles had taken up permanent residence under her eyes.
But regardless of her personal turmoil, the problem at hand needed addressing. Clutching her chest dramatically, Aunt Petunia opened her mouth to attempt another round of persuasion. However, the words died on her lips as her gaze fell upon Harry, standing silently in the doorway of the dining room.
Dudley, puzzled by his mother's sudden silence, caught the shift in Aunt Petunia's expression. A flicker of confusion passed through his small, watery eyes. The act of turning around seemed to require an excessive amount of effort for someone of Dudley's size. After much grunting and shifting, he finally managed to spin in his seat. The moment his eyes landed on Harry, the intimidating expression he had been wearing vanished instantly. Harry could practically see the fear taking root in Dudley's scrunched-up features.
How to describe the scene before him? Harry thought internally. Despite the general misery of his situation with the Dursleys, he had to admit that the expressions on Dudley and Aunt Petunia's faces were quite amusing. It seemed that the fact that the 'murderer' Sirius was his godfather had indeed terrified the Dursley family.
"I think Dudley is right," Harry said, his voice cutting through the tense silence. He shrugged nonchalantly, his emerald eyes pointed towards his designated plate on the kitchen counter. "The portion is indeed too much for me."
Harry's sudden interjection nearly catapulted Uncle Vernon out of his chair. The large man finally lowered his newspaper, his bushy mustache quivering non-stop like an agitated caterpillar on his upper lip. His beady eyes darted between Harry and the rest of his family, unsure of how to react to this unexpected development.
Years of living under the Dursley's roof had conditioned Harry to instinctively brace himself, expecting Uncle Vernon to roar at him for his unannounced appearance. Indeed, Uncle Vernon's face contorted with fury, his complexion shifting rapidly from red to purple. But then... nothing happened.
The small dispute in the kitchen quickly dissipated under the tacit understanding of the Dursley family. Aunt Petunia, her hands trembling slightly, swiftly brought the food to the table. Dudley, intimidated by Harry's presence, stopped his tantrum and lowered his head, suddenly finding great interest in carefully dissecting his sausages. Uncle Vernon, after muttering "What a sight" under his breath, also began attacking his food with knife and fork, avoiding eye contact with his nephew. Just like that, they had reverted to ignoring him again.
The familiar impulse that had been welling up in Harry's heart frequently this summer surged once more. He could feel the magic thrumming beneath his skin, responding to his turbulent emotions. His face turned ashen, jaw clenched tightly as his chest heaved with rapid breaths. He found himself desperately resisting the temptation to pull out his wand and give Dudley another pig's tail, or perhaps make antennas sprout from Aunt Petunia's forehead.
Just as Harry's internal struggle reached its peak, the shrill sound of the doorbell pierced the tense atmosphere.
In past, Uncle Vernon would have immediately roared, "Go answer the door, boy!" But today, he laboriously hauled himself up from his chair and waddled towards the hallway himself, muttering under his breath about unexpected visitors and the inconvenience of it all.
Regardless of the change in routine, Harry knew he couldn't let the dark thoughts swirling in his mind manifest into reality. If he stayed in this charged environment any longer, he was certain the Ministry of Magic would be sending him another stern warning about underage wizards using magic without permission. He cast a fleeting glance at the food allocated to him on the kitchen counter but made no move to take it. Instead, he turned directly towards the stairs.
However, just as he placed one foot on the bottom step, a roar of fear and anger suddenly erupted from the hallway!
It was Uncle Vernon!
The sudden outburst froze Dudley and Aunt Petunia in the kitchen, their forks suspended midway to their mouths. Harry, after a brief moment of shock, quickly regained his senses. Professor Watson's rigorous physical education classes had honed Harry's reflexes and agility. Without a second thought, his right hand lightly touched the handrail, and with a slight push, he effortlessly vaulted over it.
Before Harry could rush towards the source of the commotion, a terrified Uncle Vernon came charging down the hallway like an out-of-control bull, his face a mask of pure panic. "Hide quickly, Petunia, Dudley!" he roared, eyes wild with fear. "It's that murderer!"
The front door stood wide open, allowing the dazzling midday sunlight to flood the entryway. Silhouetted against this brilliant backdrop were two human figures, their features momentarily obscured by the intense light.
Harry's heart raced wildly, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through his veins. Amidst the subsequent terrified screams of Aunt Petunia and the whimpering of Dudley, Harry felt as if he'd been jolted by electricity.
Step by step, he walked towards the hallway.
As his eyes finally adjusted to the intense light, the faces of the two figures standing in the interplay of light and shadow became clear. A grin of pure joy spread across Harry's face.
"Sirius, Professor Lupin!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of relief, excitement, and sheer happiness. At last, his birthday was about to take a turn for the better.
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章 415: 0414 The Dursley's
After the eager shout, Harry couldn't help but blink rapidly, afraid that his eyes were playing tricks on him. But as the familiar figures drew closer, he dismissed this ridiculous notion and sprinted towards them, his feet barely touching the ground as he covered the distance in two long steps.
Sirius stood before him, looking remarkably well considering his past. His skin had taken on a darker, weather-beaten appearance since Harry had last seen him a month ago, testament to whatever adventures he had been on. In stark contrast, Professor Lupin stood beside him, presenting quite the opposite picture. Harry knew he had spent nearly six months at St. Mungo's. Due to the long absence of outdoor activities, Remus's complexion looked somewhat pale, but his eyes were much brighter.
"You really came!" Harry exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion, a lump formed in his throat as he struggled to contain his joy. "And Professor Lupin, I didn't expect to see you here!"
Harry couldn't fully suppress the excitement bubbling up inside him. It coursed through his veins, making him feel light-headed and giddy.
Sirius's gaze fell upon Harry, taking in the changes that just a month had made. The boy had shot up several inches, now almost matching him in height. A fond smile spread across Sirius's face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. With a familiar gesture that spoke of years of missed opportunities, he reached out and ruffled Harry's perpetually unruly hair.
"How could I possibly miss your birthday, Harry?" Sirius's voice was warm and reassuring, tinged with a hint of mischief. "Breaking promises isn't my style, you know. I'm a man of my word, even if the rest of the world might doubt it."
Sirius's words made Harry's cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. He couldn't help but grin foolishly, feeling the joy radiate from every cell in his body.
"By the way, Harry—" Remus's voice cut through the moment, as gentle and measured as ever. Always considerate of others's feelings, he glanced over Harry's shoulder towards the house, his tone tinged with slight worry. "That Muggle who just ran inside—that's your uncle, isn't it? I think we should probably apologize to him. We did show up rather unexpectedly, and he seemed quite... startled."
"Oh, don't bother with that nasty Muggle, Remus," Sirius said dismissively, clearly not giving two Knuts about the lack of invitation or the propriety of their arrival. With a casual air, he draped his arm around Harry's shoulders and strode towards the hallway. Behind them, Remus could only shake his head with a mixture of resignation and helplessness.
"I really think we should at least wait for the homeowner's permission before barging in, Sirius—" Remus's protest was halfhearted at best, knowing full well it would fall on deaf ears.
"Oh, you might be waiting until the next century then, Professor Lupin!" Harry chimed in, unable to keep the grin off his face. The thought of his aunt and uncle willingly inviting wizards into their home was so absurd it was almost laughable.
"I'm not your professor anymore, Harry. Just call me Remus, please." A wry smile tugged at the corners of Remus's mouth. "Well—" He trailed off, clearly aware of the Dursleys' attitude towards anything magical. Hearing Harry's comment only confirmed what he already knew. With a helpless shrug and a resigned smile, he followed the pair into the hallway, his footsteps echoing in the unnaturally quiet house.
The Dursley family had disappeared somewhere; they weren't visible in the kitchen. Harry knew Sirius and Remus wouldn't be very curious about the Dursleys' house, so he led them directly up the stairs to the second floor.
When they reached Harry's room, it was clear that tidiness had not been high on his list of priorities. The space was a chaotic jumble of magical items, textbooks, and clothes strewn about with reckless abandon. It was evident that Harry had been far too preoccupied with anticipation of Sirius's arrival to bother with something as mundane as cleaning.
With three people suddenly crammed into the small space, there was hardly room to breathe, let alone sit. Sirius didn't seem to care about the mess in the slightest. He perched himself on the edge of Harry's cluttered desk, grinning as he watched frantically trying to pack up.
Thankfully, Remus was more practical in his approach. With a casual flick of his wand, Magical objects and wrinkled clothes began to sort themselves out, leaping through the air as if possessed and neatly arranging themselves in the open trunk at the foot of Harry's bed.
"Oh, I really wish I could use magic during the summer holidays—" Harry said, his tone tinged with mild resentment. But he quickly pushed that thought aside and looked eagerly at Sirius. "Tell me about your adventure with Professor Watson, Sirius. Where exactly did you go?"
"Oh, that—" Sirius surveyed the gradually tidying room, looking slightly dissatisfied as he smacked his lips. But he didn't voice any criticism. Hearing Harry's inquiry, Sirius raised an eyebrow and smiled, "How to put it... It was extremely exciting, Harry. I can't tell you exactly what we experienced—I promised Bryan to keep it secret. But I can tell you this much: it was an adventure unlike anything I've ever experienced before. A thousand times more awe-inspiring than when I first laid eyes on Hogwarts castle all those years ago!"
"But what exactly was it?" Harry pressed on eagerly selectively ignoring Sirius's mention of secrecy. Things involving Professor Watson were always particularly interesting.
"Now, now, Harry. Stop prying—" Remus's voice cut through the air as he stooped to retrieve Harry's discarded Charms essay from the floor. He glanced at it briefly, an eyebrow rising in silent commentary, but said nothing as he sent the summer homework flying into the trunk with a gentle swish of his wand. "I've asked Sirius multiple times myself, but he's been frustratingly tight-lipped about the whole affair. To be honest, Padfoot, I'm quite curious about what method Bryan used to keep you so secretive. It's not like you were particularly skilled at keeping secrets to yourself back in our school days, were you?"
"Don't waste your breath trying to provoke me into spilling the beans, Moony—" Sirius retorted with a grin . "You know Bryan's temper as well as I do. He's allowing me to share some of the experiences from this adventure, but not just yet. If I were to start blabbing about it now, he'd be on us faster than you can say 'Quidditch', and both you and Harry would find yourselves with a few holes in your memories."
"Yes—" Remus couldn't suppress a chuckle, shaking his head. "Yes, he's absolutely capable of doing something like that."
Harry's mind flashed back to the previous summer when he had followed Professor Watson into the depths of Knockturn Alley's underground world. The wizards who frequented those dark corners were far from upstanding citizens, and for Professor Watson to move freely in such circles... Well, Harry wasn't naive enough to believe the professor was as law-abiding as Hermione would like to think. Considering the potential consequences of knowing secrets he shouldn't, Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He shrank back slightly, suddenly less eager to pry into matters that might be better left in the dark.
"I had thought Professor Watson might come with you, Sirius—" Harry's voice was tinged with a hint of disappointment.
Professor Watson was another wizard Harry had grown quite close to, and he had hoped that he might appear again on Privet Drive. Moreover, Professor Watson had a special status, his intimidation to the Dursleys wasn't just because he was a wizard. If he were willing to intervene on Harry's behalf, to have a 'chat' with the Dursleys, their attitude towards Harry would likely improve dramatically.
"Because of your dr—" Sirius started to speak but suddenly became alert and closed his mouth halfway. He clearly realized that discussing topics related to Voldemort in a Muggle house was unwise.
"He had originally planned to come and see you, Harry," Sirius continued, choosing his words more carefully. "But some urgent matters came up unexpectedly. After we came ashore from our... expedition, he parted ways with me rather abruptly. I had wanted to invite him to watch the Quidditch World Cup with us, but you know Bryan—he's not exactly the type to get excited about sporting events, magical or otherwise."
"In a sense—" Remus's gaze swept through Harry's room as he spoke, his tone thoughtful, "Bryan is what you might call a 'pure' wizard, in the most academic sense of the term. He's fascinated by the mystery of magic itself, which is one of the primary reasons he's achieved so much at his relatively young age. Well-"
After confirming that nothing was left behind in the room, Remus looked at Harry with a gentle smile, "We should probably get moving. We're heading to Arthur's house now. Unfortunately, we can't use the Floo Network for this trip, and Apparition is still a bit... challenging for me in my current state. We'll have to take the Knight Bus to get there, Harry. I trust you won't mind traveling this way?"
"Oh, if possible, I'd rather walk all the way to the Burrow," Harry said with a grimace, the memory of his last trip on the violently unpredictable Knight Bus making his stomach churn. His reaction drew a sympathetic chuckle from Remus.
Remus charmed Harry's trunk to float automatically, while Harry carried Hedwig's cage. The three of them went downstairs together.
"Wait—" Harry's mind had been whirling with thoughts of finally leaving Privet Drive and joining the Weasleys. But suddenly, Sirius, who was behind, came to an abrupt halt as they passed the stairs leading down to the ground floor.
"What's wrong, Sirius?" Remus asked, his voice sharp with sudden alertness, his hand instinctively moving towards his wand.
Sirius let out a contemptuous snort, his grey eyes narrowing as they fixed on a point just beyond Harry's shoulder. Under the confused and slightly uneasy gazes of Harry and Remus, he smoothly pulled his wand from his sleeve. With a casual flick, he aimed directly at the innocent-looking cupboard under the stairs.
CRASH!
The cupboard door burst open with explosive force, nearly flying off its hinges. In a tangle of limbs and terrified yelps, the Dursley family—who had been conspicuously absent for the past half hour or so—tumbled out onto the hallway floor. The sight was so unexpected and absurd that Harry could only stare in utter astonishment.
This cupboard had once been Harry's bedroom. He knew exactly how cramped and claustrophobic the space was, and it boggled his mind to imagine how Uncle Vernon and Dudley, with their considerable bulk, had managed to squeeze themselves in there.
Dudley, his face as pale as Nearly Headless Nick, struggled to extricate himself from the tangle of bodies. It took several attempts before he could stand upright, and his legs wobbled like jelly as he gasped for air. Aunt Petunia, her horse-like face contorted with fear, immediately threw herself over Dudley like a human shield. She whimpered softly, her eyes brimming with terrified tears as she stared up at the wizards looming over them.
"Get out of my house this instant, or I swear I'll blow your ruddy heads off!" The unexpected show of bravado came from none other than Uncle Vernon. Despite the way his multiple chins quivered with fear and the sweat beading on his brow, he still managed to raise his prized double-barreled shotgun—the very same one that had been twisted into a pretzel by Hagrid years ago. His pudgy fingers trembled on the trigger as he aimed the weapon at Sirius.
Completely disregarding both Remus's warning look and Uncle Vernon's empty threat, Sirius took a step closer to the stairwell. He stuck his head into the cupboard, peering into the dark, cramped space. When he pulled back, his face, which had been tanned by weeks of wind and sun during his recent adventure, had turned an alarming shade of purple.
"No, Sirius—don't!" Even Harry could see the dangerous glint in Sirius's eyes. He knew that Sirius was about to do something rash. With a cry of alarm, Harry dropped Hedwig's cage (earning an indignant hoot from the owl) and lunged forward, grabbing Sirius's arm with both hands.
"Bryan told me everything, Harry," Sirius's grey eyes were full of anger as he glared at the Dursley family. "He told me they made you live in this... this broom cupboard for years!" Sirius's grip on his wand tightened, his knuckles turning white. "If you're willing, Harry, I'll make them live in there for a few days—see how they like it! It's the least they deserve after what they've done to you!"
"Don't do anything foolish, Sirius!" Remus's normally gentle tone became much sterner. "Do you want to go back to Azkaban?"
"I don't care!" Sirius shouted, his neck stiffening with anger.
Seeing that thin stick pointing at him, Uncle Vernon broke out in a cold sweat. His two brawny arms seemed to have turned into willow branches, soft and trembling, and the shotgun in his hands clattered to the floor.
"Don't do it, Sirius!" Harry emphasized again. He looked at Aunt Petunia, who was still sprawled over Dudley, and at the trembling Uncle Vernon. His emerald green eyes showed reluctance.
"That's all in the past now, Sirius!" Harry said, panting. "Since you last spoke with them, they've been... well, they've been very decent to me this summer. Really, I can swear it. They've changed their ways!"
At Harry's unexpected defense, Uncle Vernon's face froze in an expression of utter disbelief. His small, watery eyes widened to an almost comical degree, darting between Harry and the wand still pointed at his chest. Even Aunt Petunia, who had screwed her eyes shut in anticipation of some horrific magical punishment, cautiously opened one eye to stare at Harry incredulously. It was clear that she, like her husband, couldn't quite believe that Harry would cover for them after everything that had happened between them over the years.
"Is that true?" Harry's words had an effect. Sirius's raised arm was no longer so firm. He slowly lowered his wand, looking at Harry dubiously. "They've really been treating you better?"
"I promise you!" Harry said 'firmly'.
"Well then—" Harry seized the moment of hesitation to pull Sirius behind him and tried to force a smile at the dazed Dursley family. "I suppose this is goodbye until next summer, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley. I... I hope you have a pleasant year."
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