Disclaimer: The following story contains characters and language used in J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series.


Chapter One: Privet Drive Rebel

Privet Drive was one of the dullest places to live in all of Little Whinging—let alone all of England—but as beige normalcy was the deepest desire of its occupants, contentedness settled over them with the fulfilled promise of a mild summer. Except in the case of a particularly extraordinary pre-teen, currently climbing carefully down a perfectly manicured tree in the backyard of house number four—home of the well-respected Dursley family. The boy in question was Mrs. Dursley's nephew, but the neighbors could never quiet consider him part of the family despite his residence there since infancy. Perhaps it was due to with how his parents had died, said to have been a tragic driving accident caused by Mrs. Dursley's inebriated brother-in-law. In the first reporting of the story, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had implied that both parents had been irresponsibly foolhardy in life and they feared their nephew would become just the same despite their efforts. Privet Drive had concluded that it was perhaps for the best that he had come to live with upright citizens, rather than his troubled parents, but in case nurture could not out do nature, they warned their children from becoming too friendly with the odd child. This warning paid off over time, as troublesome and impossible events seemed to always happen around the boy. It was a relief to many mothers in the area to learn that his guardians had sent him to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, far away from their own impressionable children. The parental warnings to avoid the boy lessened from a daily basis to the start of the summer holiday, when he would return to Privet Drive like a threatening storm cloud. They would have been surprised to know, however, that Harry James Potter was just as disinterested in making friends with the neighbors and put out to be at Privet Drive as they. It was fair to say that his location was just one of the many reasons he hated summer holidays.

Three other reasons (in the form of his last remaining blood relatives) had announced their irritated departure from the house by the slamming of three car doors. From his hiding perch, Harry had witnessed them frantically search for him inside of the house for almost an hour with a derisive smile. The red tint in Vernon Dursley's face had grown as the clock ticked closer to the leaving time needed in order to make a business dinner, announced earlier that morning. Per usual, Harry hadn't been invited to the dinner with the rest of the family, but was instead promised a great deal of trouble if he was not home in time to be locked inside his room for the night. In a rebellious and very bored moment, however, Harry had decided it would be a more entertaining evening if he were to ignore the threat and watch the show from outside.

Although he was always punished for ignoring instructions, ignoring them was on its way to becoming a habit. Three years ago Harry would never have disobeyed his aunt or uncle's decrees for fear of punishment, but being at boarding school had given him independence and a strong distaste for boredom. He didn't attend St. Brutus's as his relatives had told the neighbors, but Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as had his parents, Lily and James Potter, before their deaths at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Everything his aunt and uncle had told Privet Drive had been a convincing lie, one that Harry had believed as well until his eleventh birthday, when he received a letter of admittance to Hogwarts and learned that he was a wizard. Three years at Hogwarts had given Harry his first friends, the joy of flying a broomstick (and Quidditch), dangerous adventures beyond compare and, very recently, a godfather.

For a very brief moment at the end of the last school year, there had been a shining chance that Harry would never have to return to Privet Drive again. Sirius Black was one of James Potter's best friends and Harry's godfather, and despite popular belief, he hadn't betrayed Harry's parents and committed mass murders. He had escaped, after twelve years, from Azkaban (a terrifying and impenetrable prison for wizards) with the goal of protecting Harry from the real threat: Ron's pet rat, Scabbers. Only Scabbers wasn't really a rat, but the wizard who had spied for the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, and given information of Harry's parents' location: Peter Pettigrew. It had been a confusing year, but just as everything was becoming perfect, Professor Lupin (another friend of Harry's parents and that year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor) turned into a werewolf and Pettigrew escaped, so there was no proof that Harry's godfather was innocent. Sirius was on the run from the Ministry of Magic again and had to stay far away from Harry to avoid being arrested and losing his soul to Dementors, the guards of Azkaban.

Harry had come back to Privet Drive very reluctantly, despite his friends' attempts to cheer him up with the promise of letters and the Quidditch World Cup. In the first week Harry had enjoyed the terrified looks his family had when he talked about Sirius, but his obese cousin, Dudley, had asked the optimal hit question: "If you have a godfather that's so great and powerful, why don't you live with him?" Thus began Harry's release of justifiable frustration by finding the most inopportune times to act reverse of the Dursley's desires. It was fantastic, really, how quickly he could get a rise out of his family (especially Dudley), and as he had watched all three members wind up at his missing state he had wondered distantly how he could have ever been frightened of them.

For some absurd reason, his family never bothered to look for Harry in their own backyard, which made it the safest place to be if he wanted to avoid their long list of household summer chores. Although this time Harry had to thank his Aunt Petunia, who's face had caught an ugly shade of pink to match her dinner dress, from stopping her husband before he could have stormed outside and made a scene in front of spying neighbors. Harry would probably have to find a better hiding spot than the backyard tree the next time he wanted to escape their orders but for tonight he was safe and the angry show they had put on by locking all of the windows and doors before driving away had been mildly entertaining.

It's all pretty pointless, really, since if they never lock the window to my room, Harry thought as he reached the ground. After he had been locked out of the house the first time—the Dursley's had gone out to eat to a nice family dinner without him—Harry had learned the necessity of a plan to get back into the house and began to keep his bedroom window open. The plan's process was foolproof if a little irritating in its number of steps and the length of time associated with executing the plan. It started with picking the lock of the backyard shed, a skill Harry had learned from the Weasley twins (Fred and George) in his second year, to retrieve the ladder needed to get to the second story bedroom window. He then had to return everything to its right place to avoid suspicion later on. What Harry would do once inside the house, he hadn't made a plan yet, but as he had several hours with which to do anything he liked and he desperately hoped his uncle hit heavy traffic coming back to the house and extended Harry's time without them. Better get started, Harry thought, bending over the padlock with a nicked bobby pin; it was a testament to the number of times Harry had worked this lock that his hands moved automatically and he tuned out the world until he heard the sharp pop associated with the opening of the lock.

"I take it, Mr. Potter, that you have a good reason for picking that particular lock?" Harry turned sharply away from the shed at the calm, inquiring voice of Professor Dumbledore.

"Sir! What—what are you doing here?" The shock Harry was experiencing at seeing the Headmaster of Hogwarts in the muggle (non-magical) world made him momentarily forget his manners.

"Hello, Harry."

"Right, sorry, sir. I—I meant Hello. But is something wrong?" A layer of ice spread inside Harry's stomach, it wasn't after all normal for Professor Dumbledore to just stop by. "Is Sirius alright? No one's caught him, right?" It'll be my fault. They can't catch him. They just can't have.

"No. No, Harry, Sirius is quite alright." Harry thought he saw Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkle, but the ice in his stomach didn't leave.

"What about Professor Lupin? Is he alright?" He got sacked because Snape let it out that he was a werewolf. What if he can't find a job?

"Everyone is quiet safe, Remus included."

"Oh. Well, good." Ice melted and made room for confusion and Harry felt a strange pressure to awkwardly ask: "Um, are you okay?" Dumbledore chuckled heartedly at Harry's question and accepted the apprehension everyone felt when he came to call; it was a shame but people typically assumed that Dumbledore came to visit only when bad news need be reported.

"Yes, Harry, I am fine. I came, to answer your question, because I suspect that you wished you had more time with your godfather given circumstances rushed your first meeting." The hope that shined in Harry's eyes caused a small twinge in Dumbledore's gut. There was a strong possibility that what he was about to offer Harry might not be in the world's best interest, but... "Harry, how would you like to spend a week with Sirius and Remus?" Harry stared dumbfounded at the headmaster for a second. He couldn't mean...I would get to live with...

The twinge in Dumbledore's gut increased. "I know you were very happy to see your godfather and to learn that there were people who knew your parents very well. And I'm sorry we could not prove Sirius's innocence or convince Remus to stay at his post. After the school year ended, I managed to track down Remus, who is probably the only person able to find Sirius, and offer them one safe week where the three of you can get to know each other. It's little payment for the suffering Remus and Sirius have gone through these past thirteen years, but it is all I can give them." Dumbledore paused, but Harry could still only stare at Dumbledore in hopeful disbelief. "As I understand it, the Weasley family has invited you to join them at the Quidditch World Cup at the end of this month; it will a good match. So, I propose that all three of you can stay in a safe house for one week, in three days time. Does that seem fair?"

I'm dreaming. I've fallen asleep in that tree and I'll probably fall down and break something, but I don't want to wake up.

"Harry, this isn't a dream." Dumbledore said, kindly answering Harry's fear. "In three days, I can return here and take you to see Remus and Sirius. For one week."

"I-Yes. Yes, I'd love to stay with them."

"For one week." Dumbledore tried to emphasis on the time limit to appease his own guilt for the harm it might cause. "I can't give you more than that."

"Yes, sir. Okay. Thank you."

"Your quiet welcome. Now, Harry, to repeat my initial question: Why are you picking that lock?"

"Oh!" Harry nervously ruffled the back of his hair and looked guiltily at the shed. "I-uh, I kind of got locked out of the house. So I was going to get a ladder from the shed and uh-climb through my bedroom window."

"Ah, I see. Are your aunt and uncle not here then?" Harry thought he heard a note of censure in Dumbledore's question, but there were no signs on the headmasters face when Harry looked back at the Headmaster.

"No, they and my cousin left for Uncle Vernon's business dinner about twenty minutes ago." Harry paused and for a moment he was tempted to tell Dumbledore that he would have preferred that they never came back to the house, but he knew it would be the start of a much longer conversation. No point in going there, it's not like I haven't already told the Minister of Magic that I never wanted to return already, Harry thought bleakly before continuing their conversation with a half lie. "I didn't really want to go to the party, and I've stayed at the house along loads of times before."

"I see. I did want to speak to them about this plan, but I suppose you will have to do so upon their return. Be sure to tell them that I will be here at precisely 9:13 this coming Saturday morning." Harry nodded, although he doubted very much that his family were going to be present if he told them his headmaster was coming to their house for him.

"Thank you, sir."

"It is my pleasure, Mr. Potter. I will be off now to inform Mr. Lupin, who I'm counting on to inform Mr. Black, of the plan. Before I go, though, I think you will find that the backdoor has been miraculously opened." Dumbledore smiled and looked at Harry over his half-moon glasses. "Do try to not to lose your key between now and Saturday."

"Yes, sir." Harry responded with a grateful smile and ignored Dumbledore's incorrect assumption. In three days it won't matter what the Dursley's do; I'll be gone for another year.

"I shall see you on Wednesday, Harry."

"Goodbye, sir." Dumbledore gave a nod goodbye before disappearing with a loud pop, causing a surprised Harry to step back before giving a queer laugh at the use of magic on Privet Drive. As if knowing that something unusual had happened, Mrs. Next-Door-Neighbor came out to her own backyard, but only in time to see Harry replacing the shed's padlock. He caught her glare and couldn't hold back a smart smile or wave before walking into the air-conditioned house. He felt her glare all the way into the house, but he was no longer worried over any punishments the Dursley's might enforce upon their return now that he had Dumbledore's return as a threat. This is going to be the best summer ever.