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Chapter Five
Harry woke up at February the fifth. He was slightly disoriented at first, but soon realized where he was, what date it was and what an important day it was. He sat up and smiled.
Today Voldemort was coming to take him home.
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Neville woke up to see Harry coming out from the bathroom, fully dressed and his hair damp. His glasses were sliding down his nose, and the teen jerked his head back so the glasses came up a bit. The teen crouched down and carefully packed some things. The clumsy teen realized Harry was packing his things because Voldemort would come.
He also had to do that. With that, Neville got up and yawned. He decided to pack his things before getting cleaned and dressed. Harry looked over at him, but neither spoke. They didn't have to.
Within a few minutes, Neville was done and rushed to the bathroom. Harry got up and put the shrunken trunk into his pocket. He left his old one behind, with all of his old clothes and all of his books. He also left some things the Weasleys and Dumbledore had given him; what was the point bringing them? Besides, he was supposed to die and therefore his things could not just simply disappear? Except for a few of them, but that could easily be explained.
Harry felt starved, something unusual since he was almost never hungry. Must be because of the child. He let one hand rest on his belly briefly before making it look like he was adjusting his robes. With that done, he sat down with his schoolbag to wait at Neville. The others would not wake up until at least a half-hour later.
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The two walked down to breakfast, accompanied by Hermione. She seemed angry about something, but avoided when Harry asked what was wrong. Ginny wasn't up, and the raven-haired teen thanked Merlin for that. She was really insufferable sometimes.
They sat down at the Gryffindor table, and Harry dug in. He knew Dumbledore was watching him, but did not care. He was hungry and so was his baby. Voldemort was going to pick him up just in time to lunch, and it would be a blood-bath.
This day kept getting better and better.
"Wow, Harry", Hermione said. "You're really hungry."
"Yeah", Harry said. "Dunno why, but it was about time."
The girl nodded. Her nervous eyes swept over to Dumbledore and Harry got suspicious. What was Dumbledore planning?
"Mr Potter."
He turned around to see his Head of House.
"Yes, professor?"
"The headmaster would want you to go to Madam Pomfrey after breakfast for a check-up."
His blood ran cold. His hand almost dropped the fork. He wanted to strangle someone. Quickly he regained himself and continued eating.
"Why?" he said with a shrug. "I'm fine, so he can't make me."
"Mr Potter, he's concerned about you."
"Then tell him I'm fine, and my health is not his concern, Madam Pomfrey's concern or anyone else's concern but my own."
"Mr Potter..."
"Don't spoil my appetite, professor", he said coldly. "And I'm not going."
McGonagall looked angry and walked away.
"Why did you refuse?" Hermione whined. "You know everyone needs a check-up..."
"Was it you guys who told him that I needed one?" Harry asked her. "And don't lie to me."
