HP Magic Biography

I've just been attacked by a dementor and may be expelled from Hogwarts.

I want to know what's next and when I'm going to be kicked out of here.

Once Harry was back at his desk in his darkened bedroom, he copied the above words into three separate sheets of parchment.

He sent the first letter to Sirius, the second to Ron, and the third to Hermione and Van Lin.

Harry's owl, Hedwig, is now out foraging, her cage on the table is empty.

Harry was pacing up and down the bedroom waiting for Hedwig to come back, his head feeling like it had been pounded, and although his eyes were itching and stinging from overwork, his brain was sleepless from hyperactivity.

His back had been aching since carrying Dudley home, and Harry's head was throbbing with the two bumps left on the window combined with Dudley's punch.

Harry paced up and down, passing the time in anger and frustration, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists.

Every time he walked to the window, he looked out angrily at the empty, star-studded night sky.

Dementors are delivered to him, Mrs. Figg and Mundungus Fletcher are secretly stalking him, and he is then deferred from Hogwarts and told to appear before the Ministry of Magic—worst of all until Now no one is telling him what else will happen.

There's also the matter of the wizard's howling letter.

Whose voice was so terrifying, so malevolent, as it echoed through the kitchen? Why does he still stay here without getting any news? Why does everyone treat him like a naughty child? He's just asked to stay in the house and not use any more magic.

He kicked the school suitcase when Harry passed by, but far from venting his anger, it just made him feel worse, and as it was now, he had nothing but pain in other parts of his body. My toes also ached sharply. Just as Harry limped past the window again, Hedwig flew in through the window on soft, rustling wings like a little ghost.

What time! said Harry angrily as Hedwig stood on top of the cage, Put that thing down, I have work for you! Hedwig had a dead frog in her mouth , staring at Harry with its huge round, amber eyes, reproachful.

Come here, said Harry, taking the three little parchments and a leather strap and wrapping the letter around Hedwig's foot. Send these directly to Sirius, Ron, Van Lin and Hermione,

And don't write back without getting a reply of sufficient length. If you get there just keep pecking at them until they write a response of considerable length. do you understand?

Hedwig made a dissatisfied sound, still holding the frog in her mouth.

Let's go, then, said Harry. She set off immediately.

The moment Hedwig flew away, Harry collapsed on the bed, staring straight at the pitch-black ceiling. Among other painful feelings, he now felt guilty for having treated Hedwig so roughly.

Hedwig was his only friend in number four, Privet Drive.

Harry decided to make amends to Hedwig when she returned with letters from Sirius, Ron, Valin and Hermione.

They'll be sure to write back soon: there's no way they'll ignore a dementor attack. Because of his quick response to the Ministry of Magic, maybe tomorrow when he wakes up, three bulging envelopes filled with various sympathies and plans will be in his hands.

With this comforting thought, sleep swept over Harry, and all further thoughts were silenced.

But Hedwig didn't come back the next morning, and Harry stayed in the bedroom all day, leaving only to go to the bathroom.

Three times that day Aunt Petunia passed food in through the cat hole that Uncle Vernon had installed three years earlier.

Every time Harry heard his aunt approaching he tried to ask the wizard about the howling letter, but every time it sounded like he was asking the doorknob.

Otherwise, the Dursleys let him stay in the bedroom. Harry couldn't see the power that being with them would give him, nothing more than the possibility of making him angrier to perform more illegal magic.

This situation lasted for three days. Harry was so overwhelmed with excess energy that he couldn't do anything about it, and every time he paced the bedroom he was furious at the people who left him in this messy, sweltering hell , while every once in a while he'd lie in bed for an hour, staring numbly into space, thinking about the Ministry hearing with a kind of dreadful pain.

What if their ruling was against him? What if he was expelled and his wand snapped in two? What can he do? Where can he go? He couldn't go back to the days when he lived with the Dursleys every day, and now he was not like he used to be, he knew another world that he really belonged to.

Maybe he could move into Sirius' house, as Sirius had suggested a year ago when he was cleared in Dumbledore's office?

But Harry is underage, can he be allowed to live alone with his godfather? Or where he's going will determine where he goes next?

Or maybe his breach of the International Statute of Witchcraft Secrecy was serious enough to qualify him for a room at Azkaban?

Whenever these thoughts arise, Harry always slips out of bed and starts pacing the bedroom again.

By the fourth night of Hedwig's departure, when Uncle Vernon entered the bedroom, Harry was in one of his most apathetic phases, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his terribly tired mind blank.

Harry looked at him slowly. Uncle Vernon was in his best clothes, with an expression of extreme affectation on his face.

We're getting ready to go out?

Feel sorry?

Let's say, your aunt, Dudley and I are getting ready to go out.

Fine, said Harry dully, eyes returning to the ceiling.

You're not allowed to leave the bedroom while we're out.

no problem.

You're not allowed to touch the TV, the stereo, or anything that belongs to us.

Can.

You are not allowed to steal food from the refrigerator.

OK.

I will lock your door.

You just do it.

Uncle Vernon stared at Harry, clearly suspicious of the lack of arguing, before he stomped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Harry heard the key turn in the lock, and Uncle Vernon's heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

A few minutes later, he heard the garage door open, the roar of the engine, and finally the actual sound of the car pulling onto the road. Harry didn't feel any particular about leaving the Dursleys.

It made no difference to him whether they were at home or not. He didn't even pull himself up to get up and turn on the bedroom light.

The room around him grew darker as Harry lay in bed listening to the sounds of night through the window that was never closed, and now he was just waiting for some blessed moment when Hedwig would return.

The empty house creaked around Harry. There was a gurgling sound from the pipes.

Harry lay in bed in a half-comatose, thoughtless state of mind temporarily oblivious to pain. Then, distinctly, he heard a crash in the kitchen below. He sat up straight and listened carefully.

There was no way the Dursleys would be back, the time was too short, and he would have heard their car anyway.

There was a few seconds of silence below, and then voices rang out.

His thought was that there was a burglar coming, and his foot slipped off the bed—but the second he realized that burglars would lower their voices, and whoever was moving around the kitchen certainly wouldn't do so to give Get yourself into trouble.

Harry grabbed his wand from the bedside table and stood facing the bedroom door, listening as best he could.

The next moment, his bedroom door opened with a loud click of the lock, and Harry jumped to his feet.

Harry stood motionless, staring through the open doorway at the dark landing upstairs, straining his ears to hear more noises, but no one came up. He hesitated for a moment, then moved quickly and quietly out of the room, to the top of the stairs.

His heart suddenly rose to his throat.

There were people standing in the shadows of the living room downstairs, their silhouettes silhouetted by the street lamps filtering through the frosted glass, eight or nine as far as he could see, looking up at him.

Before you blow someone's eye out, lower your wand, a deep voice growled. Harry's heart was beating uncontrollably. He recognized the voice, but he didn't lower his wand.

Professor Moody? he asked uncertainly. I don't know a professor, the voice replied. I never taught you anything, did I? Come down here, we want to see you.

Harry lowered his wand slightly, but held it firmly, and didn't move. He had every reason to be skeptical. The guy he had thought to be Mad-Eye Moody for the last nine months turned out to be not Moody at all, but an imposter, twice, to be exact. Two impostors, and to make matters worse, he tried to kill Harry before he was unmasked.

But before Harry could decide on his next move, another, slightly hoarse voice came upstairs.

It's all right, Harry. We'll take you away.

Harry's heart was beating rapidly. He also recognized the voice, even though he hadn't heard it in over a year.

Professor Lupine? he asked incredulously, Is that you?

Why are we standing in the dark? said a third voice, completely unfamiliar, a woman, Lumos!

A wand flashed, and the living room was illuminated with magical light.

Harry blinked. The people below were all crowded at the foot of the stairs, staring intently at Harry, some even tilting their heads up like Scottish herring to get a better view.

Remus Lupine stood closest to Harry.

I don't need it, Tonks, you know, I can see it. An unfamiliar voice sounded, which made Harry a little excited.

Fan Lin, is that you? Harry suddenly said loudly.

Oh, if there are no accidents, Harry, I think you should pack your luggage and give it to me. We should go. Fan Lin said with a smile, and squeezed up from the corridor.

Oh, he looks just as I imagined him to, said the witch, holding her wand glowing from above.

Tonks?

She had a pale face, black shining eyes, and short, spiky hair purple in a violent shade.

Merlin's beard...

Yes, I know what you mean, Remus, said a balding black wizard who stood furthest back - he had a deep, slow voice and wore a golden ring -

He looks a lot like James.

Except for the eyes, said a panting, white-haired old wizard standing in the back, that's Lily's eyes.

Mad-Eye Moody, the old man with long, gray hair and a chunk missing from his nose, was eyeing Harry suspiciously through his mismatched eyes.

One of his eyes was small, black, and bead-like, while the other was huge, round, and iron blue—a magic eye that could see through walls, doors, and the back of Moody's own head.

Are you sure it's him, Lupine? he growled. It would be nice if we brought back some goddamn impersonator. We should ask him questions that only the real Potter would know. Otherwise, unless someone has brought Veritaslam Potion.

Harry, what shape is your Patronus spell? Lupine asked. A stag, Harry said nervously.

That's him, Moody, Lupine replied.

You should believe me, Professor Moody, I have lived with him for four years, in the same dormitory. Fan Lin said helplessly, And, at the Dursleys' house...

You can't relax your vigilance, kid. Although your ability is good, you still lack exercise, otherwise Dumbledore wouldn't have brought you here...

Is your trip over? Harry leaned over and asked in a low voice.

I'll explain to you later that after your accident, Dumbledore called everyone back. Fan Lin said helplessly, Get ready to go, we're going to a place where Hermione and Ron are both here.

Okay. Harry nodded hastily, Nice to meet you, Fan Lin.

Me too, go down first, Hedwig is already waiting for you.

Harry swallowed.

With everyone still staring at him curiously, Harry walked down the stairs, tucking his wand into the back pocket of his jeans as he stepped forward.

Don't leave your wand in there, boy! roared Moody. What if it catches fire? Wizards better than you burn their hips, you know!

Do you know anyone who has their butt burned off? the purple-haired witch asked Mad-Eye Moody with great interest.

It's none of your business, you just get your wand out of your bum pocket! roared Moody. It's basic wand safety, and nobody's going to bother with it.

But he stumbled on the way to the kitchen, and I saw it!

Moody added angrily when he saw the witch roll her eyes to the ceiling.

Lupine held out his hand and shook Harry's. How are you? he asked, looking at Harry very closely.

I'm fine, Harry said. It's just that there are some...