Harry Potter and the Dragon’s Eye
Chapter One: The Birthday Card From No One
By: Joyleaf Sídhe
Harry Potter crossed off another day on the chart above his bed, which he used to count the summer holiday before he would return to school. Harry let out a long sigh as he sank back under the sheets. There was a time, not long ago, when the thought of going back to school made him happier than anything else in the world. But now, after what had happened at the end of the last school year, Harry thought that even staying with his horrible Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon might not be so bad.
Last year, Harry had been made to compete in the Triwizard Tournament after someone had snuck his name into the Goblet of Fire. After successfully completing every task, Harry was transported via portkey to a graveyard where he witnessed the death of his schoolmate, and fellow champion, Cedrick Diggory and the rebirth of the evil dark wizard, Lord Voldemort. Harry had narrowly escaped his duel with Voldemort and took the portkey back to the school, with Cedrick’s body in tow.
There were still nights when Harry would relive those horrible events in his dreams, but the nightmares were lessening with time. Still, Harry wondered what new horrors this year would bring, now that Voldemort was back. He had thought about not returning to school; thought that he might just lock himself in the cupboard under the stairs until Voldemort came for him. But he couldn’t do that. Harry knew that his friends would be returning to Hogwarts on the train when the holiday was finished. They would be brave and Harry had to be brave too. No use waiting around for the end, right?
Harry had written to Sirius Black, his godfather, and was expecting his letter soon. Sirius would know for sure what to do. The Dursley’s were no help, never were, and they were ignoring him more than usual. Harry needed some reassurance. “Surely, Sirius’ letter will arrive tomorrow,” Harry thought, “I will wake up in the morning and Hedwig will be in her cage with a letter tied to her leg.” And, with that, Harry fell asleep.
**********
Harry slapped the snooze button with his face still buried in the pillow. He groaned loudly. He didn’t want to get out of bed, but if he didn’t get up, he’d miss breakfast. Harry lay there for several more minutes, willing the sun to go away. Then, half-dreading, Harry glanced towards Hedwig’s cage. There was a soft rustling of feathers as the snowy-white owl perched atop the cage shifted its wings about.
Harry immediately jumped from his bed, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. But, when he put on his glasses, he realized that this snowy-white owl was not Hedwig. It was a bit larger than Hedwig with a few more black patches. He hooted pleasantly at Harry and motioned toward an envelope sitting on the desk. Harry rubbed the owl’s beak and then reached for the envelope. It was addressed to him in silver ink and fancy letters. It was sealed with green wax, stamped with Celtic knot work.
Carefully, Harry opened the envelope, not really wanting to break the seal. Inside was a card. “A birthday card?” Harry thought, “My birthday’s not for another week.” He took it out and looked at it. On the front was a picture of a small, two-storied stone cottage with a thatched roof, sitting on a cliff over-looking the ocean. Harry looked at it for a long time, committing the image to memory. It was such a peaceful looking place, with a gentle breeze blowing through the grass and trees. The ocean was waving calmly, despite the gathering rain clouds.
“I’ll bet it’d be nice to live there,” Harry said to the owl. “I wouldn’t have a care in the world.”
The owl hooted quietly, as if in affirmation. Harry opened the card. The inside was written in the same fancy silver writing and said, simply, “Happy Birthday, Harry.” Harry looked at it curiously. No signature, no return address. And Harry didn’t recognize the handwriting at all. Who could it be from?
Harry suddenly became aware of a brown parcel sitting on his desk. “Must still be sleeping,” he thought, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Standing the card up carefully, he reached over and unwrapped the parcel. It was a book with a hard, red leather cover. The writing on the cover read, “Dark Arts Around the World; A Study in Defense. By: Betty Berry.”
Harry figured that this must be the new year’s text book for Defense Against the Dark Arts. The problem with that class was that every year there was a new professor teaching it. So, the students never knew what to expect. Harry wondered what the new teacher would be like, and hoped that it wouldn’t be Professor Snape, the professor who taught Potions and loathed Harry more and more each year. He didn’t have long to think about it before he realized he was missing breakfast.
“If you’ll wait here a bit, I’ll bring you some toast.” Harry said to the post owl, who hooted softly as he watched Harry go.
**********
Mealtimes had become the only time Harry left his room. The Dursley’s didn’t mind at all, they preferred it when Harry was not around. Aunt Petunia ignored him as he entered the kitchen. Uncle Vernon glared at him from over the top of his paper and grunted unpleasantly. Dudley, Harry’s fat cousin, gave him a nasty look and continued to poke a spoon at his grapefruit.
Harry sat down and started his grapefruit breakfast. Despite all of Aunt Petunia’s best efforts, Dudley had still not managed to lose much weight and they were all forced to stick to his diet. “Soon,” Harry thought, “I will be back at Hogwarts and eating more delicious foods than I can stomach.” Soon? Very soon in fact, and Harry still had to buy his supplies. “I’ll have to go to London soon.”
“What’s that?” Uncle Vernon spat. Harry looked up to find the Dursley’s looking at him unpleasantly. Oops…He hadn’t meant to say it aloud. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know how he was going to get to London. His friends the Weasley’s had been busy all summer, so were the Granger’s. Could he possibly ask the Dursley’s? They would surely say “No”, they hated everything to do with Harry, especially his school.
“I was just thinking that I’ll need to go to London soon. You know, to buy my school things.” Harry noticed them shudder when he mentioned school and suddenly got an idea. “I’ll need to buy some new spell books, and a lot of quills.” Aunt Petunia squealed while Uncle Vernon began sputtering. Dudley’s face went white. Harry picked up his spoon and went after his grapefruit. “I just don’t know how I’ll get there, everyone’s away this holiday. I don’t have any floo powder and my trunk won’t fit on my broom…” Dudley ducked under the table.
“That’s enough of your crazy talk,” Uncle Vernon boomed. Harry looked up to see that his uncle’s face was now comically blue. “What makes you think that you’re even going to school this year, eh?”
Harry shrugged. “Well, I could always have my Godfather come and get me.”
That did it. Uncle Vernon’s face flushed and he settled down. There was a long silence in the room, during which Harry was able to finish his meager breakfast. Finally, Uncle Vernon went back to his paper and said quietly, “We’ll be going to London next week Petunia.”
Harry grinned and left the kitchen with some toast.
**********
Back up in Harry’s room, Hedwig was in her cage getting a drink of water. The other post owl had moved to perch himself on the window sill. Harry smiled. “Hello Hedwig,” he said pleasantly, rubbing the top of her head with a finger. She hooted at his and grabbed at a piece of the toast in his hand. Harry chuckled and went over to the other owl, giving him the other piece. The owl hooted his thanks and quickly ate the toast.
Harry went back over to his desk where he found a letter from Sirius. Hurriedly, Harry opened it. It read,
Dear Harry,
I’m glad to hear that your holiday has been uneventful. I myself have been very busy. I’m sorry, I don’t have much advice to offer you. Just be careful when you go to the train station. Hogwarts will be the safest place for you, so be certain you get there. I have to go now. Stay strong Harry! Oh, and happy birthday!
Snuffles
Harry chuckled at his Godfather’s code name. He couldn’t very well use his real name since he was still on the lamb. Harry felt better just knowing that he was alright. He put the letter in a drawer in his desk and sat down. The birthday card he had gotten that morning was sitting on his desk. It was raining at the cottage now. Harry smiled longingly at the peaceful scene. He wished he could live there so badly. He wondered where it was. Suddenly it occurred to him that he should probably write a thank you note, but when he turned to the window he found that the other post owl had already gone. He couldn’t send a letter if he didn’t know who he was sending it to. Instead, Harry decided it was time to get back to work on his papers for school.
**********
A week later, Harry found himself in London. Uncle Vernon dragged Harry’s trunk to the door of the Leaky Cauldron before speeding off without a goodbye. Inside the tavern, Harry waved to toothless owner and explained he’d need a room until the train left, but first he had to go to Gringotts, the wizard’s bank. He went through the back of the tavern into Diagon Alley and some money out of his bank vault. He had gotten his letter from Hogwarts, along with a few more birthday cards, just before he left and spent that whole day buying supplies before returning to the tavern to sleep.
In all the time he was there, he didn’t see Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger in Diagon Alley. He did, however, run into Neville Longbottom, looking as nervous and awkward as ever, shopping for supplies with his Grandmother, a strict old witch who always wore a stuffed vulture on her head and a red handbag. And he saw Seamus Finnegan, who was very excited about trying out for an opening on the Quidditch team this year. Harry and Seamus had some ice cream together while they talked about playing Quidditch again. Harry was Gryffindor House’s Seeker, but last year Quidditch had been cancelled to make room for the Triwizard Tournament. Harry couldn’t wait to play Quidditch again.
Not seeing Ron and Hermione made Harry a little nervous, but the day finally arrived. Harry got some muggle money from the bank and took a cab to King’s Cross Station. He had just settled into a cabin on the train when Ron stuck his head in. “Alright there Harry?”
Harry smiled wide. “Ron! Where have you been?”
Ron sat down across from him. “Dad’s been really busy at the Ministry and Mum’s been a nervous wreck. She had us running around like mad dogs all summer. She even forgot to make us sandwiches for the trip.”
They both laughed at this. Mrs. Weasley always made Ron the wrong sandwiches anyway and Harry would trade him sweets for them and toss them out the window. Harry then told Ron about his most uneventful summer in years, up until he received the birthday card from no one. “Wait a minute,” Ron interrupted. “You don’t know who sent it?”
Harry shook his head. “No. It wasn’t signed.” Ron’s eyes widened. “What?” Harry asked.
“You don’t think it was from You-Know-Who, do you?” Ron whispered.
Harry couldn’t believe it, he hadn’t even thought of that possibility. What if it was? What if it had been a trap? How could he have been so careless? He decided not to tell Ron that the card was in this trunk. Just then, Hermione walked in.
“What are you two looking so sullen about?” she asked, plopping herself down next to Ron.
“Nothing,” Harry lied. “How was your summer?”
The train started out as Hermione told them all about her family’s trip to Portugal, but Harry wasn’t listening. He couldn’t stop thinking about the card and what might happen if it had been sent by Voldemort. The trip to Hogwarts seemed too long. Harry wanted to get there quickly, he needed to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore. Couldn’t the train go any faster…?
On to Chapter Two...