Chapter One

Surprising Letters

Harry fell down on his bed with a sigh, landing face-down in his pillow and really not carrying much to move. It was a hot, blistering day outside. They said that this summer was the hottest that Surrey had ever seen, and he did not doubt it for a second. He only really went outside when it was absolutely necessary, such as when he wanted to listen to the news on the telly without Uncle Vernon glaring at him in suspicion.

The afternoon news was over though, and nothing suspicious was reported, thankfully. Nothing that would indicate that Voldemort had begun attacking yet.

Twilight was setting in now, and Harry highly doubted anything useful would be on the evening news either. With the air conditioning cranked up as high as possible, a luxury ickle Diddykins could never go without, Harry was tempted to just lie about in his room for the rest of the night.

Besides, Fred would owl him immediately if something happened.

He smiled as he thought about the redhead. His first letter had come as a shock to him, but it was very much welcomed.

My dearest esteemed friend, it had begun in an overly pompous greeting.

It has come to my attention that my illustrious brother and I have been remiss in the past in our correspondence with you. I, for one, prostrate myself before you in apology and beg your forgiveness. George just says hi. He's being a git, though, because Angelina hasn't owled him back yet.

And no, I am most certainly not apologizing just because you gave us a thousand Galleons. It is very rude of you to accuse me of that. I am actually going against express orders in writing to you, so you may want to be a little grateful. Though, really, what did they really expect when they have us RULES to follow? Tsk, tsk.

Our dear little brother, though, is likely to follow the rules to the letter, of course. We blame Hermione's influence. Heaven knows, it's not yours. The point is, the other letters you get are not likely to have much information about what You-Know-Who is up to. To be fair, Ron and Hermione don't know much information to pass on, and what little they do know is under enchantment to keep it secret. I can't give you that information either. I am, however, sneaky enough to give you hints. Ronnikins, bless him, doesn't have a subtle bone in his body, and Hermione wouldn't bend a rule expressly given to her by the very important and wise Headmaster Dumbledore.

Lucky for you, though, I haven't met a rule yet that I'm not willing to twist into a pretzel for a good cause. So have no fear! You concentrate on not going crazy living with those awful Muggles, and I'll feed you any information George and I can get our hands on. We haven't got much, yet obviously. We're just settling into Snuffle's place for the summer. The old crowd has been gathering here, but they keep us "kiddies" separate, despite the fact that some of us are of age, thank you very much.

I hope this letter finds you up to no good.

Your devilishly handsome spy,

Fred

The letter left him smiling every time he read it, and he had reread it and all of Fred's letters an embarrassing amount of times. It was just so refreshing to correspond with Fred. The other boy never pestered him about how he was doing like Hermione sometimes did, and the letters they exchanged always seemed to have more substance than the ones he exchanged with Ron and Hagrid did. And he felt he could be honest with Fred without being afraid he would worry him too much, which set them apart from his letters with Sirius and Remus.

To tell the truth, he had probably told Fred things he had never told anyone before. He didn't feel self-conscious about it, though, because Fred seemed to do the same with him.

Which was probably how they ended up exchanging so many letters throughout the summer, despite the fact that there was nothing new to report on the Voldemort side of things.

Oh, Fred had been useful in giving him some information. He had also kept him from being too upset with Ron and Hermione for not telling him anything. Ron was terrible at being sneaky, and Hermione did have too much respect for authority at times.

He knew Fred did have more information than he was putting in the letters, a fact that the other boy had given him freely. Apparently he and George had created a new invention—Extendable Ears—which allowed them to listen in on meetings Dumbledore was having at Sirius' house. Harry had, of course, cautioned him to keep the invention tightly under wraps, not even telling Ron, Hermione, or Ginny. Fred had promptly agreed with him, informing Harry that no one even suspected yet and that he and George were keeping detailed notes for him to go over when they saw him next, which hopefully would be soon.

But aside from these things, their letters had mostly been filled with talking about their lives.

When Harry had asked Fred why George was sulking about Angelina when Fred had been the one to ask her to the Yule Ball, Fred had laughingly replied (and he could always tell what parts of the letters Fred had laughingly wrote) that he had only asked her out to get George off his arse.

They shared their hilarious stories, such as the time Fred and George had tricked Endora (a fake name Fred had given to a clumsy young witch that Harry knew was part of the Dumbledore's "old crowd" and who was apparently related to Sirius in some way) into believing they caught Sirius and Remus snogging in the hallway, which had her casting them sidelong looks for days before coming back to the twins and telling them to not say anything because she was sure they were in love and she would not have them ruining that with their pranks.

Of course, Harry knew Sirius and Remus were in a relationship, as Sirius had told confided in him last summer that they had reconnected the summer before and things had quickly escalated, which only made Fred's story even funnier to him. Poor Sirius probably had no idea he had been accidentally outed to his relative. He had wanted to tell Fred the truth, but figured it was a secret that really wasn't his to tell.

Instead, he had regaled him with the story of Aunt Petunia's belief that Dudley was having high tea every afternoon with his friends when in reality he and his friends were going around beating up ten-year-olds.

Of course, some of their letters were of a more serious nature.

When Fred had asked about his nightmares after he mentioned them in one of his letter, Harry had told him about that night in the graveyard and about how he blamed himself for Cedric's death even though he knew it was Voldemort and Wormtail's fault. And Fred hadn't tried to tell him to not feel guilty. He had told him that he understood and that he knew Harry would probably feel like that for a while even knowing it wasn't his fault, but that it would get better and that he was always there for him if he needed to talk about it. At times it seemed that Fred knew exactly what to say to make Harry feel better.

Unfortunately, Harry did not feel nearly as equip to help Fred. When Fred had confided in Harry that sometimes he was afraid he wasn't seen as an individual person apart from George, Harry had no clue what to say. In the end, he had simply spoken from the heart, telling him that he understood the fear because people did lump them together a lot, but assured him that he definitely saw Fred as his own distinct person, and that he was very honored to call that person his friend.

He did manage to calm Fred down a bit when the whole Percy fiasco happened, a feat because Harry himself didn't think he had ever been so mad, which was mostly due to how upset it made Fred. Apparently, Percy and Mr. Weasley had had a massive row after Mr. Weasley had told Percy that his new position in the Ministry was just an excuse for Fudge to spy on their family and their connection with Dumbledore. This ended with Percy packing his bags and essentially disowning his family.

How could Percy turn his back on his family like that? Didn't he realize how lucky he was? His anger, though, had quickly turned to guilt as he realized that he had caused the rift. Some of his guilt must have leaked out into his response, though, because Fred had been quick to dispel that notion, telling him that it had always rankled Percy that their family was poor with no political clout and the pompous arse was just putting his ambitions above his family.

The thing was, Harry didn't really think that was true. If he thought about it, Ron and Percy were similar in some ways. He was sure that if Ron had come to him excited about a position he had been appointed to, and Harry had told him that it was given to him only because of their friendship, Ron would have reacted much like Percy. Oh, he would have regretted it right away, much as he did after the whole Goblet of Fire incident, but still…

He told Fred as much. Well, not about Ron being similar because he didn't want his best mate catching heat from his brothers over something that had never happened, but he did say that he probably already regretted what happened but was too proud to come back. He was positive that Percy would come around eventually though.

And of course, there was the disaster that came about when Harry, hoping to change the subject to a lighter topic, had teasingly asked Fred if there was a special girl at Hogwarts he fancied. Fred had shocked him by admitting he didn't fancy girls all that much.

Harry didn't care, of course, and had written back as much, but the thought of Fred fancying blokes had stuck in his mind.

Why wouldn't the thought let him alone? His jaw clenched at the thought of Fred kissing another boy, but he wasn't homophobic. He was thrilled for Sirius and Remus, knowing they both deserved happiness after the hell they'd been through. Everyone deserved happiness, no matter where they found it.

So why did the thought of Fred finding it with some random bloke twist Harry's stomach into knots?

He put it out of his mind.

He glanced out the window to see that night had fallen and the moon had risen. He vaguely thought about heading outside again and hiding outside the window to listen to the evening news. The air conditioning was starting to be on the uncomfortable side of cold. He shivered as the cool air blasted out of the vents.

Going outside was definitely starting to be tempting. Hiding in the hydrangea bush, though, didn't really sound appealing. Maybe he'd go for a walk around the block. Might as well keep up the delinquent reputation his aunt and uncle had spread about.

Never mind that he wasn't the one going around beating up primary school kids.

He shivered again as he got up, the room seeming colder now that he wasn't lying on the bed. He crossed the room briskly, figuring the sooner he got outside, the sooner he'd get warm.

His hand was just over the doorknob, though, when it started to turn slowly.

He jumped back quickly and whipped out his wand, knowing that if it were any of the Dursleys, they would have just barged in.

The room grew colder still and he began hearing a high-pitched laugh in his ear as the door slowly swung open to reveal to black figures hovering in the doorway.

Dementors.

He felt the happiness being sucked from him and he shivered as they glided in slowly. He quickly thought back to the party after the First Task, when Ron and he had made up and Hermione had cried about their stupidity.

"Expecto patronum!" he shouted, the dementors crowding him in the corner with Dudley's broken toys, the nearest one already lowering its hood.

A light silver mist sprang from his wand, making the foul creatures pause but he knew it wouldn't drive them away.

His mind raced as he tried to think of a happier thought. Fred's face popped into his head, smiling as he and George lifted him up onto their shoulders after he faced the Horntail.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yelled, his silver stag bursting forth in a burst of light, chasing the dementors from the room and out of the house hopefully.

He panted lightly as he pushed himself from the wall, adrenalin still pumping through him. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could, needing to be sure his aunt and uncle were safe.

He may not like them, but he didn't want their souls to be sucked out either.

He met them in the foyer, both looking ashen as they stared out the open front door.

"What the blazes were those things?" Vernon asked faintly, shaking still as he clung to the wall.

"Dementors," Harry answered carefully, walking over and shutting the door. He was expecting Vernon to roar with anger at him for bringing such creatures here, but the large man only seemed able to look at Harry as if he had never seen him before. Petunia wasn't in any better shape, as she had closed her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Harry wondered idly what their worst memories were, but he thought it better not to ask.

He opened his mouth to ask if they were alright, but before he could, a persistent and urgent tapping came from the living room window. Harry peeked around the entrance, wand ready in case it was an unfriendly wizard, but it was just an owl. He rushed to the window and took the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty past nine and twenty-one past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area.

The severity of this breach of the Decree of the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand.

As you have already received an official warning for a previous offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 A.M. on August 12th.

Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

He felt as if dementors had swooped into the room again and sucked all the happiness from him as he reread the letter. He was expelled from Hogwarts. He'd never be able to go back.

Oh, Merlin, they were coming to destroy his wand. He couldn't let that happen. He needed his wand. He doubted very much Voldemort and his Death Eaters would leave him alone just because he didn't have a wand.

He'd have to run. But where would he go? The Weasleys weren't at the Burrow. He had no clue where they were. Same with Sirius and Hermione. He couldn't go to Hogwarts, of course, because he'd just been expelled.

Anywhere in the wizarding world, really, would be a risk, once he was on the run from the Ministry. He'd have to stick to the Muggle world, but he didn't have any Muggle money. He didn't have much wizarding money on him, either, for that matter.

An owl flying in the still open window distracted him from his desperate planning.

Harry—

Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry, and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.

Arthur Weasley

Dumbledore was sorting it out? Could he do that? And how the hell was Harry supposed to keep his wand without using magic if Ministry officials showed up to take it?

The front door banged open and Harry darted out, wand ready despite Mr. Weasley's warning. It was only Dudley though, who looked nervously from Harry's drawn wand to his frightened parents.

"What's wrong with Mum and Dad?" he asked warmily.

"We were attacked by dark creatures," Harry said succinctly, not in any mind to explain things to his cousin.

"What?" he cried. "Attacked! Are we still in danger?"

Dudley's eyes darted around alertly, his arms flexing as his hands closed into fists. Harry rolled his eyes at the thought of Dudley trying to fight off dementors with his fists. A lot of his fat had been transformed into muscle when he began boxing at school, but he still wasn't any match for dementors.

Though considering the spoiled life his cousin led, Harry doubted the dementors would even have any effect on him.

"Maybe," he said honestly. "Come on, help me get your parents to the living room."

He took his aunt by the arm and led her to the sofa as Dudley prodded his father to sit next to her. Harry sank into the armchair nearest the door, despite knowing that the Ministry would likely Apparate in and not use the door at all. Dudley sat carefully in the chair across from him, still keeping oddly alert.

They carefully avoided looked at each other for ages. After a while, another owl swooped in, causing Dudley to jump. Harry shook his head as he took the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Further to our letter of approximately twenty-two minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on the 12th August, at which time an official decision will be taken.

Following discussion with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further inquiries.

With best wishes,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

"What is it?" Dudley asked urgently. "Is someone coming to help us?"

"No, just a letter saying that I'm not being expelled yet for using magic to save my life," he said, feeling more relief than his words let on. Things weren't settled yet, of course. He knew from Fred that the Ministry and the Daily Prophet had been spreading about that he was some crazy attention-seeking brat. That would probably work against him in the hearing. But there was still a shot, right?

And it at least gave him time to figure out where he could hide if he had to run. It'd give Sirius time to let him know where he was if nothing else.

Hedwig and an owl he didn't know flew in and dropped two more letters in Harry's lap. The unknown owl flew right back out, while Hedwig perched patiently on Harry's armrest.

He recognized Sirius's writing on one and opened that one first, frowning as he took in the short message.

Arthur's just told us what's happened. Don't leave the house again, whatever you do.

He hadn't left the house in first place, he thought with a scowl. Why was everyone treating him like a misbehaving child? He was in his room minding his own business, for heaven's sake! How could this possibly have been his fault?

And wasn't anyone going to tell him "good job" for fighting off two bloody dementors that had apparently just decided to stop by for a spot of tea and a side of Harry?

He opened the other letter roughly, wondering who else was blaming him for what happened.

Harry,

Dad told us what happened. Everyone is freaking out here. Are you alright? Of course you're alright. You single-handedly drove off hundreds of dementors a year ago. Two were probably child's play. Please be alright.

They're making plans to bring you here. Just sit tight and don't worry for now. They're saying the wards around your family's house will protect you. I'll see you soon!

Best,

Fred

Fred's note calmed Harry a little bit, and gave him enough presence of mind to think. They thought the attack happened outside the house? Why? Probably because there were wards on the house itself to protect everyone inside, but those wards were apparently not as good as Dumbledore's group seemed to believe.

Harry grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the end table, not having time to rush upstairs and grab parchment and a quill.

Fred,

They attacked me INSIDE the house! I was in my bedroom. Whatever wards are in place are not working!

Harry

"Girl, I need you to take this to Fred right away," he told Hedwig urgently. "Sorry I can't give you time rest."

She looked at him for a moment before holding her leg out. She flew off as soon as the letter was secure.

Panic was beginning to set in now. He felt like a sitting duck now that he knew his aunt's house was no longer safe for him. But he couldn't go anywhere because nowhere was safe. At least here there were people who knew where he was and could get to him if he needed help.

Another owl flew in, but this time, a red envelope was dropped on the coffee table in front of his Aunt Petunia.

She blinked down at it, tears still falling from her eyes but at a more sluggish pace. She and Vernon had yet to say another word. If it hadn't been for Vernon's early question, Harry might have thought that the dementors had Kissed them.

When nobody opened the Howler, it burst into flames and a terrible voice rang throughout the living room.

"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA!"

If it fazed his aunt at all it did not show on her face, and Harry was left wondering what it meant and why it mattered.

He had bigger problems to worry about, though, than strange Howlers sent to his aunt.

He was positive that he would get no sleep that night.

Tbc…