Percy Jackson and the Order of the Phoenix (SEQUEL)

Chapter 3: Dementors in Little Whinging

The next two days nothing else appeared in the Daily Prophet. It seemed that the Ministry had just thrown an excuse in for last year, then simply tried to brush all of last year's weird occurrences aside. However, the next morning, and the day after, Harry had noticed a small column in the bottom corner of the front page which still remained, casually mentioning to wizards that they should be on the lookout for the "Deranged Di Angelo."

The front page was all Harry could stomach on a day-to-day basis before chucking it into the garbage bin. He didn't find any need to read anymore anyways. Surely any mention of Voldemort would be on the front page, wouldn't it?

Harry pondered the thought, "Yes, that seems logical," he thought, "Nico's article was on the front page..."

But still, the demigod's falsely accused crimes were all that Harry has heard of ever since he had left Hogwarts for the summer. Other than that, there wasn't a word mentioned about recent events.

Even in his letters to Ron and Hermione, they only responded with vague answers. "We can't give you the details... Obviously we can't talk about You Know Who... We're rather busy with what's going on..." They weren't telling him something.

He continued walking down the sidewalk.

Magnolia Road was much like Privet Drive. There were expensive, clean cars parked in almost every driveway, and most of the perfect cookie-cutter homes were the same boring beige as the Dursleys' homes.

"See ya around, Big D," Harry looked up, snapped out of his thoughts, to find Dudley and his gang at the corner of the street.

Piers and the rest of Dudley's goons began to depart, walking to their own individual houses.

Harry smiled, shouting out to Dudley, now alone, "Hey! Ickle Diddykins!

His cousin whirled around only to find Harry, with narrowed eyes and an irritated expression he replied, "Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Don't!" Dudley's hands turned into fists, marching over to where Harry was. The Boy Who Lived held his hands up in surrender.

Dudley clenched his jaw, but after a few moments his shoulders went slack, signifying that he wasn't going to start another game of "Harry Hunting" so late in the evening. The Boy-Who-Lived's only saving grace probably being that his cousin didn't have his friends to back him up.

The two were oddly silent, walking side-by-side back towards Privet Drive.

"So, who'd you beat up tonight then? Another 10 year old?"

"He was asking for it. He cheeked me," Dudley replied.

"Yes, because Merlin forbid 'Dinky Diddydums' can't best a 10 year old."

"I said SHUT IT! It's not like your any better! What? Do you feel tough when you carry that w-w-"

"Wand?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"-With you? Cuz' it doesn't make you tough... I've heard you in your sleep."

Harry missed a beat, standing still on the sidewalk, no longer walking in sync with Dudley,

"...What?"

Dudley wore a smug smile on his face, knowing he's gained the upper hand, "Yeah, talking in your sleep... Moaning, more like it..." his voice became high-pitched, an awfully inaccurate description of Harry's voice, "No, don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!"

His cousin continued to smirk, "Who's he? Your boyfriend?"

Harry's voice was dangerously low, "Shut up..."