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Kairos Devan: Last Born Goddess of Writing

Chapter One: Nothing Remains The Same

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Harry is back at Pivet Drive with
several. . .minor. . .changes.

The last images Harry Potter remembered were the huge stones falling down on the girl.  The girl, already dirty with her robes torn, had been screaming at someone when the stones fell.  After that, Harry woke up screaming.  Petunia Dursley came running in.  “Harry?  Harry, what is it?  Should I send for Albus?”

 

If Harry had not been scared out of his wits for the girl he would have laughed.  When he came back to Pivet Drive this summer everything had changed.  Aunt Petunia would talk to him for hours about the magical world and what she remembered for she had confessed to have being a member and giving it up for Vernon Dursley, her husband.  It was one thing she regretted when Harry came to live with them.  She knew she would have to act a certain way towards him because Vernon would never go for “that nonsense”. 

 

“No, Aunt Petunia, nothing is incredibly wrong, I don’t think.  Did you fix the fireplace?  Will it work now?”  Harry started getting out of his bed and finding his glasses, excited by his own idea.  Aunt Petunia had only nodded and started to say something before Harry flew past her and down the stairs to the living room.  Aunt Petunia was right behind him trying to talk to him. 

           

The fire was roaring at its place by the farthest wall.  Harry went over and kneeled at the fireplace.  He turned around to face Aunt Petunia.  “Harry, I’ve been trying to tell you.  I have a pantry over here where I’m going to keep stuff like floo powder.   Vernon and Dudley will not be able to get into it.”  She walked Harry over handed him the floo powder and went to start breakfast before Vernon got up. 

           

Harry took a bit of the floo powder and called on Arthur Weasley, hoping he had caught him before he left for his office at the Ministry of Magic.  Harry’s head was now all the way in The Burrow and Molly Weasley almost jumped at the sight of him.  “Harry, dear, so good to see you.  Are you looking for Ron, love?”

           

“No, Mrs. Wesley, I was wondering if Mr. Weasley had left for work yet?”  The look from Molly had told Harry a few things: she was scared for what Harry needed to ask and that no, Arthur had not left for work.  She left and returned with her husband shortly after. 

           

“Harry, good to see you, what can I do for you?”

           

“I was wondering if you caught word of a girl missing.  I believe she belongs to the magical world by her clothes.  She looked like she was about die.  I last seen her when there were huge rocks falling on her.”

           

“Harry, how did you see this?  In a dream?  Like with the snake, with me?”  Arthur asked, excitedly.  Harry nodded.  “You found her, Harry.  You found Aurora!  Wait till I tell Kingsley.  We were wondering if we were going to find her.  Harry!  Harry, do you remember where she was?  Nevermind.  Come to the ministry with me.  Tell Kingsley yourself.  Aurora!!  Goodness, what an exciting morning.”  Arthur started to talk to himself and get ready for work.  “Oh, Harry, meet me at your fireplace in ten minutes.  I’ve got to. . .”

           

With a goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, Harry brought his head back to Pivet Drive.  Aunt Petunia came in with a plate of sausage and eggs.  “Harry, dear,” she whispered, “eat this.  Moody is coming by today.”  Still not use to Aunt Petunia’s sympathy and interest in him, Harry ate up and decided to wait till Moody showed up or ten minutes to ask Aunt Petunia.  Swallowing his breakfast down in about three bites, Harry went to find Petunia when the doorbell rang.

           

“I’ll get it,” Harry said, sitting his plate down on the table and running to get the door.  Revealed by the open door, Alastor “Mad Eye” Moody stood there with his bowler cape and usual robes.  “Hello, Moody, come on in.  Aunt Petunia and I have been expecting you.”

           

“Harry, you never know if someone could be in disguise.  How did you know it was me?”  Mad Eye limped in and settled himself down on a chair.

           

“Well, I can smell your flask.  Firewhiskey.  You’re also wearing the pin that Hermoine, Ron, and I made you.  Since it’s the only one ever, I figured it was you.  If it’s not, I blast you with my wand that happens to be in the back pocket of my jeans.”

           

“Harry, I’ve told you not to keep your wa. . .oh, you’re kidding.”  Alastor gave Harry when of his rare, lopsided smiles.  “Where is your Aunt Petunia, anyway?”
           

“In the kitchen, Moody, I’ll go get her.”  Walking towards the kitchen and picking up his plate and cup and going into the kitchen he told his Aunt that there was a visitor for her.

           

“Damn it, Harry,” Vernon Dursley said, “we’re eating breakfast.  You go tell them to go away.”  Aunt Petunia gave Harry a knowing look and went on pretending to agree with Vernon.  Harry knew she would slip away the moment the time was right.  He went back to the living room and told Moody to wait.  Then he went into his dream and telling Arthur about it. 

           

“He said that I saw Aurora,” Harry finished.  Alastor “Mad Eye” Moody paled.  “Who is she anyway?”

           

“Arthur said to meet him in fifteen minutes?” 

           

Harry nodded.  “Right here at my fireplace.  Will you come to the ministry with us?”  Although Alastor Moody sometimes scared him, he needed someone he could trust.  Alastor was definitely that someone. 

           

“Harry, tell your Aunt I’ll come see her later.  I have an idea. . .” Alastor stopped mid-sentence as Petunia Dursley walked in, smiling.  “Petunia, I’ll have to come talk to you about the. . .uh. . .arrangements another time.  I have a pressing matter that I need to attend to.”  This did not sound like Alastor Moody.  Petunia read the odd look Harry was giving her and retrieved her wand and softly sent a spell at Alastor’s retreating back.  Nothing happened. 

           

Alastor turned around.  “I know this isn’t like me,” he said, “if there’s any chance. . .I promised.  . .”  Without another word, he left.             

           

Petunia shook her head.  “That man. . .” she busied herself in the living room as Harry told him about Arthur Weasley’s plans.  “Sure, Harry, if it’ll help Arthur’s endless search.  Go stay with them for a while.  I’ll come to the Burrow and see you soon.  I think Vernon and I need to have a talk.”

           

“Talk about what?” Vernon asked, coming into the living room, kissing Petunia’s cheek and scowling at Harry. 

           

“I’ll be upstairs,” Harry said and ran for his room.  Moments later he heard his Uncle Vernon.

           

“YOU’RE WHAT!!  NO WAY AM I GOING TO LIVE WITH. . .”  Uncle Vernon had gone quiet.  Harry would bet 20 galleons that it hadn’t been on his own accord. 

           

Harry quickly packed all that he owned and packed Hedwig, his snowy white owl, into her cage.  He took both trunk and cage downstairs.  Vernon was pacing around the living room, in utter disbelief.  Showing no expression on his face, Vernon walked right past Harry and out the door.  Petunia walked back into the living room.

           

“Looks like I’ll be moving out,” she said, “can’t stand it here anyway.  Didn’t want him to find out like that, though.  Life goes on.”  Petunia muttered to herself as she tided Harry up for his trip.  “I’ll tell you where we’re living when I find a place.  Who knows, something may be available in Godric. . .Off you go, Harry.  Say Hello to Molly for me.”  Petunia disappeared back into the kitchen.

 

Shaking his head, as if to clear it, Harry retrieved so floo powder and thankfully went to “The Burrow.”

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Last Born Goddess of Writing: Kairos Devan