chapter:2 "Red Dawn"

"Ah, good evening Harry. I hope you had a good summer."

The arrival of his nephew managed to prompt Vernon back from his horrified trance, cutting short any answer Harry could have given. The large man stood a little straighter as he gritted his teeth and menacingly brought an index up to Dumbledore's face.

"Now listen here, Mister. I don't want to be rude but-" He began to talk in a tone devoid of all civility.

"Unfortunately, accidental lapses in politeness happen more often than we'd like." Dumbledore briskly interrupted. "Ah, and this must be Petunia."

The sound of the kitchen's door opening betrayed Aunt Petunia as she appeared in the doorway, still wearing rubber gloves and a dressing gown put on in haste atop her nightgown. Her horse-like face was distorted in an awkward mix of shock and distaste at the sight of the unwelcome guest.

"Albus Dumbledore, we know each other by correspondence." The headmaster said while lightly raising his hat from his head. Quite a way to call a letter with an abandoned baby and thousands of others exploding all over her living room. "May I say that your African lilies are quite gorgeous. I must admit, I never managed to grow anything myself." He added in a playful tone.

"Now, I know my coming this late into your home unannounced must be a burden and I am sure we all have pressing matters to attend to. That is why we will not be taking any more of your time than necessary." continued Dumbledore, as if talking to friendly acquaintances around a cup of tea. "If Harry can show me to his room, we will gather his belongings and be on our way." He added, turning to face Harry and motioning him to lead the way.

Not wanting to wait for his uncle to explode, Harry nodded and quickly climbed back upstairs. He heard Dumbledore excuse himself and follow after him as he reached the first floor. Down the hall, from behind his half-opened door, Dudley was watching him with a quizzical look. He seemed about to ask him something as Harry continued toward his room, when his expression turned to surprise and fear. His eyes had moved to watch something behind Harry, no doubt catching sight of Dumbledore, but soon disappeared as he closed the door in a hurry. One less awkward goodbye to worry about, he supposed.

He got back into his room and started piling up his trunk, cage and boom. As he turned to bring them to the hallway, he found Dumbledore, smiling calmly at him while small butterflies of lights of vibrant colours flew away behind him. The numerous locks usually pending on the side of the doorframe were nowhere to be found.

"Are all your affairs in order?" Dumbledore asked as he let his gaze wander in the small and impersonal room.

"Almost. There's still one thing I can't find. A white stone. It's ... important to me." Harry was sure his hesitation to say too much about it was painted all over his face. There was a reason he never played poker with Seamus since third year.

Chuckling softly as if he had caught a grandchild causing mischief red-handed, Dumbledore took out his wand in a swift motion. A rounded triangular rock flew from behind the desk at high-speed, only to slow down and gently stop itself in the headmaster's other hand. As Dumbledore put away his wand in a pocket, Harry noticed that what little he could see of his right hand underneath the ample sleeve of his robe was nauseating. The fingers were shrivelled and the skin had turned a sickly black, making it look like a dying spider.

"Sir, what happened to your..." Harry began to ask, concerned.

"Ah, it is certainly an interesting story, but one that is best left for later. I would not want to spoil it by telling it before you understand everything. Do not worry, however, as you will have your answer sooner than you think." Dumbledore said with a soft yet sad smile as he extended his good hand, the stone within it. "Was that all?"

"Yes, thank you, sir." Harry said, taking back the stone and attaching it to his chest. He made sure to power it off quickly before any sound or chatter escaped from it.

"Then I believe we are all set to go. We best not tarry here. There are a few things we need to do before I leave you in the eager care of your godfather." And with a tap of his wand, the trunk, cage and broom glowed brightly for an instant before shrinking and wrapping on themselves in a mad whirl before disappearing.

They got out of the house quickly after that. His aunt and uncle did not bother to see them off, preferring to stay in the living room with the TV's sound as loud as they could without inconveniencing the neighbours. Even Dumbledore did not mention them as they stepped outside. They walked up to the street without sparing even a glance toward the house. When they stopped on the sidewalk, Harry took the arm Dumbledore offered and with the sensation of being squeezed through a straw, they were gone. Leaving behind them the perfectly normal and orderly Privet Drive and its suffocating heat.

They appeared in a park, somewhere in London. A few green hills, dotted with trees and bushes, were separated by a dirt path. The place appeared deserted and, after making sure Harry was alright, Dumbledore started to walk at a leisurely pace along the path, motioning him to come along. They walked like this for a few minutes, in complete silence.

Harry did not know what to say or even why they were there. He'd known Dumbledore wanted his help with something before dropping him at Grimmauld Place, but there wasn't anything or anyone here. He would also be hard-pressed to admit it, but he was feeling nervous. This was the first time he'd had a real conversation with Dumbledore without it being the result of his daily misadventures and it was off to a bad start ... Or not starting to be exact. He'd had a few hopes while they were still at his relatives' but now ... was he ignoring him again?