Child of Hogwarts: Part I

Chapter Four - An Early Return

CHAPTER FOUR

An Early Return

Harry stared up into the headmaster's face; still hardly daring to believe he was there, and more than a little embarrassed to have been found cowering in bed in the middle of the day. With Dumbledore griping his chin, he could not look away from those penetrating blue eyes. They seemed to bore into his soul as the professor waited for an answer. Harry swallowed nervously.

'It's nothing, professor,' he said, quietly, 'It was just an accident.'

The headmaster's eyes grew sad. He did not take his eyes from Harry, nor did he release his grip on the boy's chin. 'Harry,' he said, softly, 'This injury was not an accident. Tell me, child, who has hurt you?'

Harry swallowed again. On the one hand, he wanted to tell Dumbledore. He wanted to scream at the injustice of the whole situation. On the other hand, he knew the professor was probably here because of the warning from the Ministry. He was probably already angry because he thought Harry had used magic outside Hogwarts. And he didn't want to get himself into further trouble.

But Dumbledore was sitting there expectantly, and Harry didn't see a way out other than the truth.

'My Uncle Vernon, sir,' he said quietly.

Dumbledore released his chin, nodding once, his eyes still reflecting that cold fury that had taken residence when he first saw Harry's face. In one graceful movement, he stood from the bed and swept his wand around the room. The doors to Harry's little wardrobe sprang open, the drawers of the chest and desk popped out, and the tiny lock on Hedwig's cage flung itself across the room and pinged off the wall. Harry stared.

'Gather your things,' Professor Dumbledore said calmly to Harry. 'I am taking you from this place today.'

Harry scrambled out of bed at once, a little red-faced. He felt both elated at the prospect of leaving the Dursleys and a bit nervous to go with the headmaster. He was halfway to the open wardrobe when he remembered about his trunk. He turned toward Dumbledore again.

'Er, professor?' he ventured.

'Yes, Harry?'

'Well, my uncle... he didn't want me to use my school things, you see,' Harry said, worrying a frayed corner of his tee-shirt between his fingers as he spoke. 'So he packed them away. I think they're locked in my – in the cupboard. Under the stairs.' His face reddened a bit further at his almost-slip-of-the-tongue.

Dumbledore's eyebrows seemed to contract a bit, but otherwise he made no specific mention of the cupboard or Harry's obvious discomfort. 'That is not a problem. I will retrieve your things from downstairs. Gather what you need from this room and meet me in the front hall when you are ready. I shall take your owl with me now.'

Harry nodded, and began hurrying around the room as Dumbledore swept through the door, taking Hedwig with him. In less than five minutes he had retrieved what clothing he had in the bedroom and pulled the photo album of his parents that Hagrid had given him from under the loose floorboard beneath the bed. He did a quick sweep to ensure he had everything, and then hurried down the stairs to meet Dumbledore.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Albus left Harry's bedroom with the snowy owl, sweeping quickly down the staircase. He could feel his magic reflecting his fury – a pulsating aura of tension that longed for release. He tried to tamp it down so as not to frighten Harry, but he thought personally that Vernon Dursley was incredibly fortunate to have been out when Albus came to call. His control had not wavered in nearly seventy years, but at the moment he would not have bet on his own self-discipline in the presence of that Muggle. The feeling gave him a new appreciation for the terrible, destructive anger his own father had displayed so many years ago.