Unofficial Portkey Archive

Owl Post, Yet Again

"Wake up!" Came rising the snappish voice of Harry Potter's aunt, Petunia Dursley.

Harry woke up and looked around himself, not quite sure what had happened. The last thing he remembered doing was writing a letter for both Hermione and Ron, which was asking both of them to get him out of Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging. Then the next thing he knew, he was back at the Department of Mysteries and the last thing he saw before being snapped awake was his godfather, Sirius falling backward into the veil, and the laughter, the terrible laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange. He felt is face; he was drenched in what was undoubtedly cold sweat.

"Wake up!" The hissing voice came rising up to his room once more.

Groggily getting up, Harry placed his glasses on his face. Looking at once toward the cage of his beloved snow owl, Hedwig, he noticed she was gone.

"Get down here boy!" The voice this time was not of Aunt Petunia, but his uncle. A wide, large mustache wearing man named Vernon Dursley.

Trying to flatten his untidy hair, he opened the door and went down the stairs, arriving at once in front of the three Dursleys. Uncle Vernon stood there, his face already a light shade of purple as he finished yelling. Aunt Petunia, a tall, bony person with entirely too much neck, looked Harry over with a sneering glare. Dudley, Harry's cousin, was still wide, but he had finally grown taller than he was wide, and was wearing a suit which suggested to Harry that they were going somewhere and without him at that. He closed his eyes as he imagined himself heading over to Mrs. Figg again. She was the lady the Dursley's always gave Harry to whenever they went somewhere. Harry always thought her to be nothing more than a batty, cat-loving, old lady. However he found out last year during a Dementor (former guards of the wizarding prison Azkaban) attack that she was actually a Squib, or a person who wasn't magically inclined, but participated in the magical world. She had been watching him ever since he had been placed on that doorstep in Privet Drive 15 years ago. Even though he now knew this, he doubted she would change her ways about trying to conceal to the Dursley's that Harry might actually be able to enjoy himself at her house, which was the last thing the Dursley's wanted, for him to ever be happy.

"What did you want?" Harry asked somewhat upset at them, he hadn't wanted there company ever since he had gotten back.

Sirius' death weighed heavy in his heart still even though it had been a month. He had tried to repress it so much that he forgot he wouldn't be getting a cake or card from Sirius that summer when the rest of his birthday things had come. Ron had gotten him a large assortment of different pranks from Fred and George's joke shop which Harry had helped pay for. Hermione, ever studious, even in the period they were in had gotten him something that greatly surprised him. Somehow, she had sent him a somewhat large picture of just the two of them with a note that said how much she missed him and she hoped he, Ron, and she would soon be together again. He had scanned the picture several times, as if looking for some hint of Ron. Upon looking at the back of the note, he had found that the picture had been taken in their fourth year by Colin Creevey, a positively ecstatic Harry-fan who was a bit too enthusiastic. Harry had almost forgotten they had had that picture taken during the time Ron and Harry were at a bit of a row spouting from Ron's jealousy of Harry being placed in the Triwizard Tournament, a competition between the three largest wizarding schools in Europe. They had tried hiding themselves, but Colin found them in the end. Thinking of the picture brought a strange smile to Harry's lips. Apparently, that fact didn't slip past Uncle Vernon.

"What are you smiling about? No matter, I'll tell you this only once boy, we are leaving to go attend to Marge, and we're leaving you in this house. Now we expect to find this place in one piece when we return, we'll be gone for a week." Said Uncle Vernon who looked through the small slits his eyes made in the great fat face of his.

"A w..week?" Sputtered Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, a week free of the Dursley's.

"Yes... a week, now I told you, no... none.... of that business that you do at that freak of a school you attend, you know what I mean boy, don't do it."

"Promise." Harry said this automatically, he had wanted to get that letter off quickly, the quicker he obliged, the quicker they were gone.

Uncle Vernon could sense the anticipation Harry had, but thought better to leave it alone as he turned and ushered his family out of the house, turning to Harry one last time.

"I warn you boy, one slip-up, and you'd wish those dementy-whatsits had gotten you last year." Uncle Vernon said with a slam of his own door, leaving Harry completely by himself.

"Me, free?" Harry looked at his hands as if he had done something to grant this wish.

Walking back up the stairs, he looked over and saw that Hedwig had returned, but unlike her usual midnight flights, she hadn't returned with something dead in her mouth, however in her mouth was a letter. Harry took the letter and stroked Hedwig's beak a little before turning the letter over a few times and opening it:

Hey Harry,

So sorry about your godfather... but I've got extraordinary news Harry! While I was with my grandmother in Diagon Alley, I came across some very interesting news in Herbology and Beyond. Apparently, there is something called a Potterkey. Upon asking what it was, they told me that it was a key of some sort, a bloody good key at that Harry, because it can bring your parents back.

Harry stopped reading, he didn't know who this was from, but whatever they were telling him, he liked very much. He reread the last line several times before deciding to go on.

I asked the guy who was telling several other people this, he wore deep red robes, and he had his hood up, so I couldn't see his face. But he looked over to me, and told me that very few people knew. The other wizards and witches left, and he told me that it was hidden in London at the moment, and that several members of some sort of Muggle law keeping force, policemen or something like that, were guarding it. I think you could past them Harry, just think, your parents!

Just go for it,

Neville

Harry had still not put the letter down after reading it. Neville Longbottom? Neville was a round-faced, very forgetful boy who Harry had known for the five years he had gone to Hogwarts, both being in the same year and House, Gryffindor. However, for as long as he had known Neville, Harry had never known him to talk to strangers, or be so daring as to say to Harry that he should blatantly break the rules just to get a key that Harry wasn't even sure existed. However there was a pang of desire inside of him. What if it was real? A voice said inside of his head What if it was real? What if he could bring back his parents back? How much he would love to talk to them, to hug them, to just be with them. Then what about Sirius, could this key bring him back as well, then Harry's family would really be complete. His mother, Lily. His father, James. Their best friend, Sirius Black. As images of the three, most noticeably the picture of his parent's wedding, popped into his head, he looked up and noticed the large picture of himself and Hermione he had placed on the wall. Immediately, her voice pierced through the pictures and entered his head with so much force that he would have assumed she was in the room with him.

"How could you possibly take that seriously Harry? You don't even know who that's really from! Neville has never written you before, and you know how well V..Voldemort can manipulate people. You should send this to Professor Dumbledore, and I'll see if I can find anything about a key that can bring people back from life."

Harry could only smile as he remembered her voice, why was he still wearing that dumb smile? Looking back at himself in the mirror that was placed on the inside of his drawer door, he saw the smile. That was the smile that Uncle Vernon was very suspicious of. It was also the same smile that he had twice conjured upon his face as he thought of Hermione. The bushy-haired girl had been Harry's friend since their first year at Hogwarts, and she had been there for him when he needed her the most, specifically during a time in their fourth year when his best friend Ronald Weasley had deserted him out of jealousy. Then just as suddenly as Hermione's voice had entered his head, another voice rang out.

"There is no spell that can bring a person back from the dead." The voice belonged to Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry remembered him telling that to Harry and Sirius after Lord Voldemort's return in Dumbledore's office. A pang of sadness hit his stomach, Sirius being the cause. He had tried hard not to think about Sirius' death since it happened, but sooner-than-later, he realized he would have to cope with it. Or would he? What if this key, the Potterkey existed? It wasn't a spell, it was a magical object, so maybe it could bring his parents, and maybe even Sirius back to life. Sitting on his bed, he mulled it over and over. Looking at the chart he had created for himself to mark the days when he would return to Hogwarts, he could see that it was the third week of July. No one had come for him, though he wasn't sure why they would. Still clutching the letter from Neville, he realized that he had forgotten to finish his letters to Ron and Hermione. Releasing his grip on the letter, he walked over to his desk and finished writing the nearly identical letters, that had expressed how bored he was at Number Four Privet Drive and how he wished they would come from him. Oddly enough, he didn't describe the letter from Neville, or even the fact that he had gotten one from Neville. Deciding that he didn't want to worry the two of them about a letter that he himself hadn't taken seriously, he went to tie them to the legs of Hedwig when he suddenly looked at his alarm clock, the reflection showing him that picture of Hermione and himself. Sitting back into the chair, he sighed loudly.

"Am I mental?" He asked himself. "I must be, having these weird feelings for Hermione. I mean, she's my best friend, apart from Ron."

"Well, most find that talking to yourself is very mental." Answered a voice in his head. "But Hermione has always been there for you."

That was very true, and Harry found that at times, his thoughts lingered on Hermione, and he had found himself looking at that picture a lot. Grabbing Hermione's letter, he scribbled a few more words:

I've missed you loads too Hermione and I hope to see you very soon.

Finishing up, he tied the letters to Hedwig who took flight. Harry watched her until she disappeared.

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