Chapter 1
The sun had started to set over Privet Drive, casting the suburban neighborhood into light shadows. The warm summer air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant sound of crickets chirping. Harry Potter sat alone on a rusty swing in the local park, the chains creaking softly with each movement.
Harry's thoughts were a tumultuous storm of frustration and worry. The Dursleys had treated him worse than usual since his return from Hogwarts, and the isolation from his friends weighed heavily on him. He had written several letters to Ron, Hermione, and Sirius, but the responses were sparse and vague. The feeling of being cut off from the magical world was almost unbearable.
A sudden rustling noise broke through his reverie. Harry looked up to see Dudley and his gang—Piers, Malcolm, and Gordon—emerging from the shadows. Dudley's face lit up with malicious glee as he spotted Harry. The boy looked up at Dudley with a frown, knowing he was about to be mocked.
"Hey Big D, beat up another ten-year-old?" Harry asked with annoyance, his voice cutting through the still night air. Dudley smirked and then boasted.
"This one deserved it," he said, his tone dripping with pride.
"Five to one? That's very brave," Harry said sarcastically, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Dudley.
"Well, you're one to talk, moaning in your sleep every night. At least I'm not afraid of my pillow. 'Don't kill Cedric!' Who's Cedric, your boyfriend?" Dudley replied in a teasing tone, his words laced with cruelty.
Harry's face flushed with anger, his fists clenching at his sides. He tried to brush it off, but when Dudley started to mock him about his dead mother, something inside him snapped. He stood up in a rage, his eyes blazing, and pointed his wand at Dudley's neck. Though Dudley's gang laughed at the gesture, their laughter sounded hollow in the night air. Dudley, however, was visibly cowered, his bravado crumbling as fear flickered in his eyes.
The tension between the two boys hung in the air, thick and palpable, as the swing chains creaked ominously in the background.
But then a gust of wind picked up, swirling around them with sudden ferocity. The sky darkened ominously, and the temperature plummeted, sending chills through the warm summer late noon. Thick clouds rolled in, obscuring the already cloudy weather leaving the park in near-total darkness as the wind roared around the teens.
Panic set in among Dudley's gang. They shouted to each other in frantic yells, their voices barely audible over the howling wind. Pleas to leave the area filled the air as they turned and fled, their footsteps pounding against the ground in their desperate escape.
"What are you doing?" Dudley asked, his voice trembling with fear, his earlier bravado completely vanished.
"It's not me!" Harry said gravely, his eyes wide with alarm. He clutched his wand tightly, his senses on high alert as he scanned the darkened park, trying to pinpoint the source of the unnatural storm. The eerie wind whipped around them, and the sense of impending danger grew stronger with each passing second.
------------------
As the boys ran through a field, the sky continued to darken, the oppressive gloom closing in around them. They sprinted to a nearby tunnel, seeking shelter and a momentary respite. The echo of their footsteps and ragged breaths filled the confined space as they tried to calm their racing hearts. For a brief moment, they thought they were safe.
Suddenly, the tunnel lights began to flicker ominously, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The temperature plummeted at an alarming rate, and Harry could see his breath misting in the frigid air. Ice started to creep along the tunnel walls and floor, a stark contrast to the summer night outside.
Taking one final, steadying breath, Harry looked behind him. His eyes widened in horror as he locked eyes with a haunting hooded figure. The figure moved with terrifying speed, its skeletal hand reaching out to grab Harry by the throat, pinning him forcefully against the icy tunnel wall. The cold seeped into his skin, and Harry struggled to breathe.
"D-Dudley...RUN!" Harry managed to choke out, his voice strained and desperate.
Without a second thought, Dudley turned and bolted, his feet pounding against the frozen ground. His escape, however, was short-lived. An invisible force seemed to grip him, pulling him inexorably toward the other end of the tunnel. As he reached the opening, another hooded figure materialized from the shadows. With a swift, brutal motion, it pinned the terrified boy to the ground, its grip as cold and unyielding as death itself.
The figures, known as Dementors, which Harry recognized instantly, began to suck the life out of the boys. The air grew colder, and an overwhelming sense of despair washed over them. Harry's strength waned, but his hand instinctively fell on his wand. Summoning all his remaining willpower, he shocked the Dementor holding him. It recoiled, dropping Harry to the ground before retreating slightly.
However, the reprieve was brief as the Dementor charged toward him again.
"Expecto Patronum!" Harry yelled, his voice echoing through the tunnel. A brilliant, silvery stag burst from his wand, charging at the Dementor and sending it flying before it fled into the darkness. Without missing a beat, Harry turned to where Dudley lay, pale and motionless, and cast the spell again. The second Dementor was driven away by the Patronus, disappearing into the night.
Breathing heavily, Harry rushed to Dudley's side, checking to see if he was alright. Dudley's eyes were wide with terror, but he was alive.
Harry then heard hurried footsteps approaching from the entrance of the tunnel. A tiny old lady emerged from the shadows, and Harry recognized her as his neighbor, Mrs. Figg. Worrying that she wouldn't believe what had just happened, Harry opened his mouth to explain.
But Mrs. Figg spoke first, her voice surprisingly firm.
"Harry, keep your wand out. They might come back again," she warned, her eyes scanning the tunnel for any sign of the Dementors.
Harry stared at her in shock but nodded, clutching his wand tightly, ready for whatever might come next.
As Harry finally started to calm down, a sudden rush of wind made the hairs on his neck stand up. The wind roared, picking up loose particles and spiraling into a vortex. The vortex shifted colors, glowing with a hue of blue as the wind grew stronger. Mrs. Figg ran to Harry’s side, positioning herself protectively in front of him, ready to face whatever threat the vortex might bring.
Suddenly, sparks and lightning began to form within the swirling mass, each flash louder and more powerful than the last. The sound was deafening, and the air crackled with energy. As the three watched in horror, a shadowy figure appeared within the portal, growing larger and more distinct as it approached. The figure was thrown violently onto the concrete ground, and with a final flash of light, the portal vanished. The boy who emerged looked to be Harry’s age, with bright pink hair and an exotic outfit that would be strange even to a passing wizard. He groaned from the floor, struggling to pick himself up. Harry noticed a strange red tattoo on the boy’s shoulder as he moved closer to examine him.
The boy opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings with a mixture of confusion and alarm. When his eyes fell on the trio, he glared at them, his eyes glowing with an intense, almost otherworldly light.
“Who are you?! What have you done with my friends?” the boy shouted weakly before fainting and collapsing back onto the hard, cold floor.
Harry, Mrs. Figg, and Dudley stared at the unconscious boy in stunned silence. The night had been filled with unexpected horrors, but this new arrival added a layer of mystery and urgency. Harry knelt beside the boy, checking his pulse and making sure he was still breathing.
"Mrs. Figg, we need to get him somewhere safe," Harry said, his voice steady despite the chaos.
"Let's hurry then," she replied, glancing around nervously. "We don't know if more Dementors or other dangers are nearby."
With careful effort, they lifted the pink-haired boy, carrying him out of the tunnel and into the uncertain night.
_____________________
As they approached the Dursley household, the tension in the air was palpable. Mrs. Figg took charge of the pink-haired boy, carefully guiding him toward her own home with the leviosa spell. Before leaving, she turned to Harry with a stern expression.
"Harry, be careful. The Ministry will not take this lightly. Be prepared for anything," she warned, her voice low and urgent. Harry nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. He then turned his attention to Dudley, who was still visibly shaken from the encounter with the Dementors. Supporting Dudley, Harry helped him towards the house, each step filled with reluctance. The thought of facing his uncle and aunt after everything that had happened was almost unbearable.
_____________________
As expected, Harry had been kicked out—more accurately, he had gotten up and left the house. He couldn’t spend another moment in that wretched household with those wretched people. On top of that, he had been expelled from Hogwarts via letter. When he read the news, his heart shattered, and despair took the place of hope. His uncle's mocking reaction had been the final breaking point, Harry gathered his things and stormed out. Walking the dark, deserted streets, Harry’s mind raced with thoughts about the day’s events. His steps were heavy with anger and sadness, and the night felt colder and more oppressive than usual. As he trudged along, he noticed a midnight black dog standing a few yards away, watching him. Though anxious at first, Harry quickly recognized the familiar form, and a smile tugged at his lips.
“Sirius!” Harry shouted, his voice breaking the silence of the night. The dog began to shapeshift, morphing into a human male with long black hair and a beard. The man’s lean figure and sunken face were unmistakable.
“Harry, my boy, we have much to discuss,” Sirius said with a gleeful smile. “But first, I recommend we go somewhere safe.” Harry nodded, relief flooding through him at the sight of his godfather. The presence of Sirius was a beacon of hope in his dark moment. Together, they moved quickly through the shadows, seeking refuge from the dangers that lurked in the night.