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“Boy, when we get home you’re going to clean your room. Your Aunt Marge is coming over for the
summer. You will remove all notice of your unnaturalness from your room and sleep in your cupboard,” said Uncle Vernon as he drove Harry home from King’s Cross.


“Yes sir,” said Harry, not really paying attention. He was too consumed by grief over the death of his godfather and anger at Dumbledore for controlling his life with little regard for what was best for him.


“I don’t want any funny business. If this visit any thing like Marge’s last visit you’ll wish you’d never been born,” warned Uncle Vernon.


“I already do,” muttered Harry, so low no one could hear him.


“I won’t be intimidated by that bunch of freaks,” declared Uncle Vernon as the car pulled into the driveway at 4 Privet Drive.


After cleaning his room for three hours, Harry was exhausted. Closing the bedroom door, he heard the front door open as Dudley and his gang entered. Harry groaned and tried to sneak his way into his cupboard, but was stopped as he hit the bottom stair.


“Hey Big D, look who it is,” said Peirs Polkiss. “We haven’t been Harry Hunting in a long time.”


Harry ran upstairs but was tackled before he could barricade himself in his bedroom. Dudley held his cousin down while Peirs delivered a hard uppercut into Harry’s gut. After Peirs connected with several more punches to the face and chest, Dudley let go of Harry and he dropped to the floor bloodied and winded.


“My turn now,” said Dudley, grinning stupidly. Peirs then held Harry down while Dudley displayed his boxing skills, using Harry as a replacement for his punching bag. Dudley and his gang soon became bored with their activities and left Harry crumpled on the floor, coughing up blood. Before Harry could even pick himself up off of the ground Aunt Petunia came up the stairs.


“Clean up your infernal mess this instant,” hissed Petunia.


Harry forced himself off of the ground and realized he was still bleeding. Heading downstairs to get the cleaning supplies, Harry used the first aid kit to bandage the cuts on his face and stuffed some gauze up his broken nose to keep it from bleeding.


With much effort, he managed to clean the blood off the floor, though it took him about an hour to do so with the pain. Finished, Harry limped towards his cupboard, his mind a pool of angry thoughts. What had he done to deserve this? He wished, more than anything, that he had Sirius to write to, but Sirius was gone, and it was all his fault. Why had he gone to the Department of Mysteries? Why hadn’t he learned Occlumency? Why hadn’t he checked to make sure that Sirius was safe? Thoughts about Sirius led Harry to begin thinking about Dumbledore. It was he who hadn’t told him about the Prophecy until it was too late. It was he who had left Harry here as a child and it was he who had forced him to return to the hell that was Privet Drive year after year. Dumbledore had controlled Harry’s life, if little more than 15 years of pain and suffering could even be called a life. Harry had really never had control over anything in his life. For his entire life, Harry had been nothing more than Dumbledore’s little weapon. The Headmaster had kept Harry just angry enough that he would be able to kill Voldemort and fulfil the prophecy. It was at that moment that Harry decided that he would no longer be whatever he was told to be. The days of being a prisoner to Dumbledore’s whims were done. Starting today he was his own man.


The first step in being his own man, Harry knew, was to get away from the Dursley’s. How to do this, however, would be a problem. Harry knew the Order had people watching his house who would stop him from leaving if they saw him. The key was to escape without being seen. Harry knew his invisibility cloak would hide him unless Mad Eye was on duty, but Harry knew this was unlikely. Moody was too experienced, too valuable. However, before Harry could leave he had to know where to go. The last time he ran away to the Leaky Cauldron, where the Minister was waiting for him. Harry knew that was too popular to be a hide out. He considered the Hogs Head, but didn’t think it would be safe enough. No, Harry knew that he needed a place where no one would consider looking for him and no one could possibly stumble across him. Suddenly he knew just where to go, though he didn’t have any idea how he would get there - the Shrieking Shack. It may not be the most sanitary place, but it was liveable, more so than Privet Drive, at least. With some hard work he could clean it up, though he would have to find a way to get his hands on a good mattress and some bed linins, but those could be borrowed from Hogwarts.


With that decided, Harry came across two additional problems. First, his trunk was much too large to carry in his condition. His nose was broken, he had a black eye, he thought that he might have a cracked rib and his stomach was bruised. In short, he felt as though he had just attempted to walk blind-folded into a room full of Bludgers. Intending to go through his things and discard anything he could do without so as to lighten his load, Harry saw a note taped to one of his textbooks.

Harry,

We thought we had a something of interest for you. You see, when we were younger and needed to charm our products without getting caught by our dear Ministry we created a means by which to mask all magic done by wand. Ginny took the liberty of casting the charm on your wand for us before you left. That should make your summer a bit more sufferable until we can get you back over here. Do us proud.

Your Favourite Mischief Makers,
Gred and Forge


Harry grinned, knowing the twins would be very proud indeed if they knew what he was up to.
Next to the note was a mirror that Harry recognized immediately. It was the second half of the two-way mirror Sirius had given him after the Christmas Break. Harry quickly found the shards of the other mirror and murmured “Reparo.” The mirror quickly fixed itself. Harry repacked his stuff and made his trunk feather-light.


Scribbling a note informing his relatives of his intentions, Harry began to contemplate his second issue. While he needed to leave the Dursley’s as quickly as possible, he knew that Dumbledore was right in one respect. At Privet Drive he was less vulnerable to Voldemort. With Voldemort out of hiding, the war was about to begin in full force and he was the one target Voldemort absolutely had to have. If he was going to leave then he needed to make sure that at least one person knew where he was. He could use the mirror as a way to contact said person and send for help should the need arise. Harry knew he couldn’t tell any of the adults he knew. They were all members of the Order and would surely go to Dumbledore immediately. Ron and Hermione were the obvious choices, but Hermione would simply think Harry was losing himself to grief and tell every Order member she could find before running to the library to research how to cope with loss. Ron was never a good liar. He probably would be the first person anybody asked once the Order realized he was gone, and Harry wasn’t sure how well he would cope with the pressure of the entire Order baring down on him.


Fred and George were options; they certainly were never against a little rebellion. However, Mrs. Weasley could tell too easily when they were up to something (which was usually always). No, this person would have to be a much better liar than either of them. Suddenly, one person came into his head, Ginny. He had witnessed her lying to Mrs. Weasley without the Weasley matriarch being any the wiser. In his second year, she had kept secret from everybody the fact that Percy had a girlfriend for several months. She was certainly daring. It had been Ginny who had suggested breaking into Umbridge's office when he needed to talk to Sirius. The only problem was how to contact her. Owl post was too risky. Even if the Death Eaters didn’t intercept the owl, Harry suspected that the Order would be searching his mail. The only way would be to speak with her face to face. This would be risky in and of itself, but Harry found he had little other choice.


“Send these to Ron and Hermione and then wait for me at the Shrieking Shack,” Harry told Hedwig, knowing that if he didn’t write those two it would be suspicious. Harry figured that he had a three-day head start, as he had been instructed to write the Order every three days.
After making sure he had everything, Harry shrunk both his trunk and his Firebolt, placing them in his pocket, before slipping under his Invisibility Cloak. Quietly, Harry opened the door and walked out into the night. He needed to get a good distance away before calling the Knight Bus, as it would be anything but invisible when it appeared. The Order would surely figure out what was up if anyone saw it. Thinking it must be nearly 11 o’clock, Harry felt he should be out of reach of any guards watching Privet Drive. Cautiously, he stepped out from his cloak. No sooner had he raised his wand when the Knight Bus came zooming across the street corner.


“Welcome back to the Knight Bus, Mr. Potter,” greeted Stan Shunpike.


“Hey, Stan. Do you mind if I hide under my invisibility cloak while I ride? I don’t want to be seen, so don’t tell anybody you saw me okay?” asked Harry.


“Of course. Where’re you off to this late?” Stan asked.


“Ottery St. Catchpole,” said Harry.


“All righ’ then. You’re in for a bit of a drive but I’ll get there,” answered Stan. Harry stepped onto the bus, where Stan got his first look at him.


“Blimey ‘Arry, what happened to you?”


“It’s nothing, I’ll be fine,” answered Harry hurriedly. Harry settled on a near-by mattress, thinking that the rough bus ride would not help his injuries. After a sleepless night filled sharp turns and quick stops, the Knight Bus finally opened its door in an empty alley of the Muggle village that the Weasley’s lived in. Harry jumped off the bus and quickly covered himself in his cloak. The sun began to rise slowly as he made his way towards the Burrow.
It was noon by the time the multi-story cottage came into Harry’s view. Harry noticed Ron, Ginny and Charlie were enjoying the good Quidditch weather. Still hidden, Harry peeked into the kitchen window. Mrs. Weasley was busy with various household chores. The family clock showed Fred, George, Bill and Mr. Weasley’s hands pointing to “work,” though Harry thought that, in the case of the twins, running a joke shop could hardly be called work. With all the Weasley’s out of the house or otherwise occupied, Harry took the opportunity to levitate a letter through Ginny’s open window. With nothing else to do until midnight, Harry gingerly walked towards the edge of the Weasley property and sat down, doing his best to stay awake and hoping beyond all hope that Ginny would be willing to aid him in his plans. If she wasn’t, he would be in a lot of trouble.