I must not tell lies

Return to Privet Drive

Harry felt the bus slowing down while he was trying to reel in the magic that was bursting out of him, reacting to his rage. Luckily, being the constantly observed boy-who-lived teaches one to hide your emotions well, meaning that he had control over his external reactions to near perfection, so it didn't take long to stop his magic flying about with anger.

The boy stood up from his seat once the bus came to a full stop, slowly making his way down to the front in order to hop off. He offered the old men a nod in farewell, which was returned out of courtesy. He wished the bus driver a good evening, the bus had taken a long time it was around 6pm. 

Harry stepped off the bus and watched the doors close before it drove off into the evening. It was still the 1st of July so it was not very dark at 6pm. He sighed deeply before making his way to 4 Privet Drive, his personal hell. 

The walk was not very long, which was both a good and a both thing for the young 14 11/12 year old. He was thankful that he was spared of a lot of excercise when he was a tired as he felt; he was disheartened at the small amount of time he'd have away from the Dursleys.

Harry really did try to stall the inevitable for as long as possible, alas it was in vain as at the time of 7:04 pm, the boy-who-lived, saviour of the wizarding world, was knocking on the door of a small, decievingly homely, muggle house. 

There was a sound inside after he knocked, it reminded Harry of the jangling of keys that always followed the squib Hogwarts caretaker, Filch. It didn't take long for the door to swing open to a horse-faced woman with a clearly forced smile on her features.

The smile was completely gone when Petunia saw that it was her nephew at the door, and not one of the normal neighbours she relentlessly tried to impress. She glared at the boy before her, and then she yelled to her husband to deal with 'it' instead.

Vernon Dursley, a horrid walrus of a man, waddled up to the door and sighed when he saw the signature nerdy glasses and lightning bolt scar of the thing that inhabited a cupboard for ten years and now burdened them with his abnormal presence during the summer. 

Vernon sneered at the boy, grabbed him by the colar and threw him into his 'room', that was really more like a prison cell with the amount of locks on the door. Harry was glad that he released Hedwig for the summer and that he shrunk his trunk into his pocket, otherwise the man would have most likely taken the both of them.

Harry fell onto the dirty matress, ignoring the discomfort he felt at all the lumps- being at Hogwarts always got him used to comfy beds so the mattress gave him displeasure every time he lay on in.

Harry looked at all the second hand clothes that lay in his space, all of the once white shirts now stained red with evidence of the male Dursleys' past... fun. Harry felt himself getting frustrated once more when he remembered that the 'oh so great' Dumbledore insisted on him staying here as opposed to one of his friends or even a hotel of some sorts.

'Blood wards my ass' Harry thought as he recalled the headmasters reasoning for his original placement with the muggles. How had there been no other place for him to go where he would have been protected, his godfather was a Black, so surely there was somewhere he could have gone to with a member of the Black family. He refused to believe that Sirius was the last one left with any relation to the Blacks.

Also, Harry had felt the wards, they were pathetic, as a twelve year old, Harry would have been able to break through such weak protections. Also, the wards must have done something to letters because no matter what his friends promised, Harry never recieved or saw any owls that were not from Hogwarts.

He closed his eyes to go to sleep, hoping that he'd have some freedom this holiday. If he was going to lead a third side of the war, he needed a private place that he could do magic and be completely free, and that was not at 4 Privet Drive