Harry Potter and the Tome of Truths

Author’s Note: I’m pleased with the response I got on my first chapter, thanks a lot everyone. Sorry its taken me so long to get this chapter up; I’ve been incredibly busy job hunting (I have my parents threatening to kick me out unless I pay rent), so suffice to say, writing FanFiction isn’t deemed nearly important enough by the powers that be.

This chapter is hardly as exciting or entertaining as it should be; not in my mind anyway. I find it a little disappointing overall. Thanks for your exuberance ‘Lily Evans Potter’, your review was by far the most flattering I’ve ever received, but now I’m worried about disappointing you. Alas, here’s the chapter, the third chapter (The shortest I’ve written so far unfortunately) should be up within a week! Thanks for your support everyone!

Chapter 2: The Least Exciting Escape

The sheer emotional pounding Harry received from his Uncle that evening was beyond anything he'd ever experienced. Granted; Harry understood to an extent why someone wouldn't want to be awoken by painful screams in the middle of the night; but it wasn't as if he'd made the howler and set it loose in his room; and worse then that, it didn't make him feel any better when his Uncle tore up his letters from Ron and Hermione, clearly blaming them for the disruption. Harry attempted to point out that the lack of wailing from either letter should tell him they weren't responsible, but, as stubborn as he was mean, his Uncle Vernon burned them the first chance he got. Harry supposed he got off easy considering, but he still couldn't help but feel a little saddened at not having those letters as some form of reassurance anymore.

Then again, the Howler appeared to be some kind of blessing in disguise, if only because it occupied Harry's thoughts day and night. Of course he suddenly wished he was in Hermione's company, she could at least offer some tangible reason as to why someone would send a screaming letter to him. He supposed it was some type of joke, some horrible type of joke. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel that the voice was familiar.

Harry was a bit bothered too, by the fact that his bedroom window had been closed at the time, and for most of the summer because of the rain. All evidence showed that it hadn't been opened either; so Harry naturally wondered if someone had actually been 'inside' his room. He then of course remembered the dark shape he’d seen in the night, and immediately assumed it was an Owl who’d found a way inside; after all, that was all that made sense really.

It had been three days since the howler, and Harry was sitting for breakfast with the Dursley's for the first time since. Dudley, who actually didn't appear to have grown any wider; not to say he was any skinnier, was scarfing down all his greasy morning favorites while Aunt Petunia made a note of cleaning his chin with a rag every two minutes or so. Uncle Vernon, as always was reading the morning paper, keeping a running commentary to no one in particular about all the things that bugged him; his favorite of late was 'teenagers'; apparently he'd caught wind of some kids frolicking nude in the rain somewhere near Little Whinging.

In the nights Harry couldn’t sleep, he’d frequently hear whimpering from his bedroom; something about ‘Dismembers’. He occasionally felt sorry for him, but it tended to pass when he remembered punching him painfully in the jaw. His Aunt Petunia seemed even more hysterically frightened of the word ‘magic’ then she’d been in previous years; Harry figured she was trying to forget her little outburst the year before.

Harry bit into a piece of his toast and stared into the back yard, as a giant plaid table-umbrella came soaring out of the sky and crashed into their outside fire pit. He watched it spin, rising slowly again into the air, almost hypnotically, before it was carried by another updraft into some other persons yard further down the street.

It wasn’t much brighter out now then it was during the evening; the days and nights seemed to meld together that way. Harry carefully averted his eyes from the glare his Uncle was giving him while eating; he likely appeared more ratty, dirty and unkempt then ever, and if there was one thing you could say for Uncle Vernon, it was that he didn’t like anything remotely unclean, especially Harry. Turning his eyes back outside, Harry jumped suddenly from the table, sending his chair crashing to the ground, and ran to the patio door; pressing his nose painfully against the glass.

Squinting, Harry tried to make out what he was seeing; it was that same shape in the sky he’d seen a few nights before, and it was definitely no Owl; but his search was interrupted by a succession of very loud, obtrusive noises. First, there was what sounded like a tiny explosion, and as Harry spun around he saw a small ball of fire converging on itself before vanishing; there was Aunt Petunia letting out horrible shrieks; there was Dudley falling into the floor, causing more of a racket then any so far, and then of course his Uncle Vernon, wailing in indignation, flaying his arms all over the place as if it was raining inside the house now too.

Harry noticed a letter had dropped into the middle of the table, directly below where Fawkes had appeared; He grabbed it and moved back a good few feet from his Uncle’s clenched fists.

'What is it this time boy?!' asked menacingly.

Harry eyed his Uncle with great dislike and opened the letter. He had expected it to simply be his OWL results; he then of course doubted why Fawkes would be used to deliver those to students. Reading it, a smile slowly playing on his lips.

Harry,

tonight; be ready to leave.

Be well.

- Albus

Overall, Harry found it slightly inadequate, but he wasn’t ready to complain about leaving the Dursley’s this early in the summer.

'Well? What’s the stupid grin for boy?'

Harry muttered something about 'leaving', and then dashed from the kitchen.

*

Harry decided he might just want to take a shower, as he hadn't been extremely hygienic in lying around his filthy room doing nothing. So he did that, organized the very few objects that had managed to escape from his school trunk and waited. He wondered why the letter had been so terribly short; perhaps Dumbledore was still cross with Harry for destroying huge portions of his Headmasters office. And he waited; staring out the window, wondering how best to shield himself from the downpour on the way to… ‘Wait’, he thought. Where ‘was’ he going? Surely not Grimmauld place he hoped. And still he waited; he also prayed he wouldn’t have to fly again; he’d surely die of pneumonia.

The anticipation was slowly driving him mad, and so he paced up and down the room, sending irritated glances at his clock. It felt like the clock had been stuck on for an hour, before Harry finally noticed that it likely had been. Mentally kicking himself, he turned around to open the door, but before reaching the doorknob it quickly burst open, sending Harry crashing to the floor. Though Harry was slightly perturbed by the fact that no one seemed to be there, he could feel a body sprawled on top of him.

Harry lay still for a moment, reaching for his wand, but before he had, the invisible figure was suddenly in plain sight.

'Oh. Alright there Harry?' asked the man, clearly unphased by his position on the floor, and carrying a silky robe in his right hand. He noticed Harry’s stare and added, ‘It’s Mad-Eye’s.’

Mr. Weasley slowly rose and offered Harry a hand. And only then did Harry hear the familiar shouts of his Uncle from just down the stairs. Harry looked at Mr. Weasley, and then at the muddy mess he'd apparently brought all through the house (Harry wondered what use the invisibility cloak was if he was going to destroy his Uncles house anyway). They shared a knowing look and quickly gathered Harry's things. Harry carried Hedwig and his broom, and followed right behind Mr. Weasley who had his trunk. Without so much as a backwards glance they exited the house, and Harry observed yet another reason for his Uncle's apparent unrest; it seemed Mr. Weasley was parked half way up the Dursley's lawn.

He silently chuckled to himself when halfway to the car, Harry discovered another reason why Mr. Weasley was so wet and filthy; beyond the now drenching rain; he managed to take an ungraceful plunge, face first into the Dursley's flooded flower bed. Unfortunately Harry's hands were full and he couldn't offer a hand - not that it mattered, Mr. Weasley got up with the dumbest grin on his face; Harry and he just laughed together, only stopping when they finally reached the trunk of a rustic red car and hastily tossed his broom and luggage in, next to another school trunk.

Harry, soaking and frowning, was half way into the back seat when he was accosted by a huge set of hair that appeared to have arms; quickly telling him who the other trunk belonged to.

'Her... Hermione let me get in the car first!' He laughed heartily.

She scurried back quickly and beamed at him as he sat down in the car. He smiled back. Far pressed be it for him to be miserable when sitting next to him was one of his best friends, smiling so widely he was sure he could count each individual tooth in her mouth.

'Alright there Hermione?'

'Fantastic,' She began, 'I mean, it was a mite boring sitting here alone on the car ride, Mr. Weasley was far too busy enjoying the driving, but with you to talk too...' She paused; then quickly launched into a barrage of questions for Harry; and he had the distinct feeling she'd rehearsed them thoroughly before he'd been picked up. Quick and eager to get off the subject of himself and his feelings, he inquired about her OWL's.

'Oh. Why? Did you get yours?' She asked; Harry quickly shook his head. 'No me neither,' and thinking this must be odd, Hermione did as she always does, she consulted an adult. 'Umm, Mr. Weasley, do you happen to know why we haven’t gotten our test scores yet?'

'What? Err, no, I... haven't any clue,' was all he had to say.

Harry knew Mr. Weasley too well to take his word for it, he may have been sitting behind him, but the shade of red his ears turned was unmistakable, but as so often Hermione did, she took his word for it (Harry half wondered why she was so trusting), and continued on discussing this years lessons. Harry casually zoned out, occasionally nodding and adding 'Go on' if she took a long enough breath. It was actually quite comforting sitting there listening to her ramble on about things he couldn't care in the least about; there were more important things then lessons.

Harry absentmindedly petted Hermione’s cat Crookshanks; who had very secretly slipped onto his lap. Harry glanced outside as Mr. Weasley backed up off the pristine lawn of , and started to drive off. Harry hesitantly rang his clothes and hair out with his hands; he hadn’t realized how wet his short trip outside had made him. He wondered how they’d be able to make it across the countryside without drowning. Driving passed Mrs. Figg’s, Harry saw a large plaid umbrella lodged halfway into her ceiling; with Mrs. Figg on her front lawn, slowly shaking her fist. He chuckled slightly, looking at his reflection in the window, just as a pair of eyes that didn’t resemble his own, looked back at him through the window. He jumped slightly at the sight of those familiar red slits.

'Harry?'

He snapped out of his daze and noticed Hermione staring at him in quite a scrutinizing manner.

'What?' he responded possibly more loudly and defensively then he'd intended.

'Is there something on your mind; you seem a bit preoccupied.'

Come to think of it, quickly pushing what he’d seen out his head; chalking it up to paranoia; Harry saw no reason not to mention the Howler he'd received, yet at the same time he cast a significant glance in Mr. Weasley's direction that wasn't lost on Hermione. She nodded in response and turned and stared quietly out the window for the rest of the trip; they passed long fields (Filled with oversaturated crops), through winding streets (Bristling with grumbling people), over monstrous hills and through forests (Crookshanks peering interestedly at the passing birds). The scenery changed so suddenly Harry feared he'd miss something interesting if he closed his eyes. He cautiously focused on his reflection and saw, to his immense relief, only himself staring back. He sighed and rested his forehead on the glass. Mental. Suddenly; and far sooner then he'd expected they approached the Burrow.

They hazardly parked in front of the Weasley's home and Harry half wondered if parking was Mr. Weasley's only problem when driving. Harry glanced over at Hermione and saw her wringing her hands together with a rather unsettled look on her face. He briefly thought to himself that he didn’t appear to be the only person who had something on their mind. She turned slightly to look at Harry and smiled at him, before the pair exited the vehicle; her bandy legged cat bolting as quickly as he could to the house, to avoid the rain.

Hermione, Mr. Weasley and Harry dragged their belongings through the lake that had situated itself around their home, and through the front door; tossing their trunks aside immediately when Molly came and continued the suffocation of Harry through hugs; though Harry was surprised to find Hermione have her a run for her money in that department. Hermione didn't look like she was spared from the wrath either.

'It's simply so good to see you dears; oh look at you all; you’re soaking. Here let me,’ and she dried the three of them off with her wand. ‘I'd been writing Dumbledore ever since the beginning of the summer to try and get you two over here, but you know as well as I do how he is sometimes,' Molly said with a slightly more bitter tone then they may have been used to, yet one Harry had heard more frequently as the years passed, 'Anyway, Ron and Ginny are upstairs with that strange Luna girl, they'll be quite happy to see you.'

Molly smiled at them then turned back and entered the kitchen, Mr. Weasley tagging along behind. Harry and Hermione shared a look and both silently decided to bring up their things later. They then made their way upstairs. Hermione couldn't hear anything coming from Ron's room but Harry knocked anyway and wasn't disappointed when he heard footsteps and the unlocking of the door. He was a bit taken aback when the ever dazed looking Luna Lovegood, who actually appeared more lost then usual, had been their first sight, but that quickly passed.

'Oh. Harry how good to see you,' she said dreamily, 'and you Hermione.'

Hermione nodded to her, and they both stepped in and realized why it was so silent, apparently Ron and Ginny were in deep concentration playing Wizards Chess; they both looked up, offered casual hello's and went back to playing, watching as Ron's bishop took a swipe and demolished Ginny's pawn; the sky rumbling and the wind howling all the while.