Three Wandering Stars

Chapter 6:

The weeks leading up to the first of September were extremely tense in the Dursley household. Harry could sense that with every passing day, his Aunt and Uncle were anticipating the day that he would finally leave for Hogwarts, which would give them a break from him until next summer. Or at least, that's what they thought.
Harry had decided that, once he left number four Privet Drive, he would not return, regardless of what anyone, including Ben, said. He had had enough of this negative atmosphere. He could sense that if he continued to live here, it would become harder and harder for him to keep control of the darkness within him. He didn't care where he went, he could live on the Falcon for all he cared, he just wanted out.
He told this to Ben, a few days before it was time to leave.
"Ben," He began. "You know how I will be leaving soon?"
"Yes?" Ben replied.
"Well, I have decided," Harry continued. "I will be leaving this place, permanently."
Ben was silent, so Harry continued.
"I don't care what anyone says. Not even you can stop me from leaving this horrible place."
He sucked in a deep breath.
"I... I don't want to have another TV incident. I feel as if the darkness will only become stronger if I remain here."
"Harry."
"You can't stop me, I've made my decision. This is what's best for everyone."
"Harry," Ben interrupted. "I am not going to try to convince you out of this decision."
"Your not?" Harry asked, surprised.
"No." Ben replied. "I too, believe that it is in your best interest to leave here. You need to live where you can remained as balanced as possible during your training. This is not a good place for this. I thought that you might wish to leave, so I am not surprised at your decision."
"Errr, thanks." Harry replied.
"But where will you go?" Ben replied.
"Errr," Harry said sheepishly. "I was thinking of just... Errr... Living in the Falcon and errr... Going where the wind takes me."
Ben chuckled.
"As long as you don't go on a joy-ride."
Harry pouted.
"This is only for during the summer when I'm not at Hogwarts. I would by my own place with the giant moment of wizard money I've gt in Gringots, only I want to save it for school stuff and I highly doubt that anyone, not even in the wizarding world, would just let an eleven-year-old by his own home. And anyone, I don't even know how to fly the Falcon."
Ben chuckled again.
"Yes, I do suppose that you will soon need to learn to pilot a ship."
Harry immediately jerked up in excitement.
"Really?"
"Next year." Ben replied, which caused Harry to deflate.

On August thirty-first, he approached Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.
"Excuse me?"
Both adult Dursleys instantly jerked in shock.
"W What?" Aunt Petunia stuttered.
"Tomorrow, I will be leaving for Hogwarts." Harry began. "I need to catch a train at King's-Cross station at 11:00 a.m. I was wandering if you would take me to the station."
"F fine." Replied Uncle Vernon.
Harry continued.
"After I leave tomorrow, we will never see each other again."
"What?" Aunt Petunia screeched. "B but you can't. D Dumbledore..."
"I don't care." Harry replied. "After what happened last month with the TV, I think it's best if I leave, permanently."
He looked at his relatives with a gaze full of contempt.
"For almost ten years, you have treated me poorly. You physically and emotionally abused me, treated me like a slave, fed me hardly enough food to survive... I have had enough. So, after tomorrow, we will never see each other again. If Dumbledore or anyone else says otherwise, tell them that I left for my own free will for mine and everyone else's well-being."
And with that, he walked back to his soon to be former bedroom, leaving the dursleys shaking in fear.

The next day, Harry woke up bright and early. He quickly checked his trunk to make sure he had everything he needed. The night before, he and Ben had gone to the Falcon to gather as much of the Jedi training equipment as they could. He had managed to fit several of the training orbs and training lightsabres in his trunk. He had decided to grab multiple lightsabres, as he hoped to find others at Hogwarts who he could teach the ways of The Force.
In addition, he also had a training sabre attached to his waistband, hidden by his overly bagging clothing. He hoped to be able to hide it with his robes, once he got to Hogwarts. He believe it would be best to carry a weapon with him in this new environment, as you never new when you might need to defend yourself. While the training sabres could not do as much damage as the actual thing, they could still severely hurt someone when turned to the right settings, as Harry had had to learn the hard way.
When Uncle Vernon was ready to take him to King's-Cross, he grabbed his trunk in his left and, so he could have easier access to his sabre. He had opted to use his lightsabre in his right hand and his wand in his left, as the former was more of a close-quarter weapon, which he preferred to have in his dominant hand, while the latter was more of a long-range weapon.
His snowy owl, whom Harry had named Hedwig, flew onto his shoulder. He had decided not to put her in a cage, as he did not wish to imprison anyone, even if she was only an owl.
Harry did not look back as he left the door of Number 4, privet drive for the last time. He just calmly put his trunk in the boot of Uncle Vernon's car and slid into the back seat.
The drive to King's-Cross was tense. Both occupants of the car were relieved when they finally reached the station.
After Harry got his trunk out of the boot and onto a trolley, he looked at Uncle Vernon for the last time.
"Well, good by then." He said. "I would say it's been nice knowing you, but..."
And with that, he turned away. As he walked into the station, he could sense Uncle Vernon leaving at a very fast speed. He did not look back.
"Now, where did Professor McGonagall say to catch the train?" He muttered to himself.
He pulled out the ticket that Professor McGonagall had given him and looked at the platform.
nine and three quarters.
He looked at platform nine, then platform ten.
"What do you think Ben?" He muttered quietly.
"Open your senses." Ben replied. "Let The Force guide you. It may be an allusion."
And so Harry did. He closed his eyes and focused upon the two platforms. The Force guided him to the barrier in between platforms nine and ten. With hesitation, Harry put a hand on the barrier, only for his hand to go straight through it.
Sucking in a deep breath, he walked through where the barrier was. He soon found himself on a platform full of families, whom Harry could sense were all strong with The Force. Looking to one side he could see a scarlet steam engine.
Sucking in a breath, he could feel the air seeping with The Force just as Diagon Alley had been.
After a moment of him clearing his mind from the overwhelming amount of Force energy, he began to push his trolley to the train, weaving through the many witches and wizards that were gathered, saying their fare-wells to their children.
For a second, Harry felt a strong sense of sadness and longing. He wished that he could have a family of his own. A mother to hold him when he was sad and comfort him when he needed it, a father for him to look up to and who will protect him from all that would harm him. Maybe even siblings for him to play with. It was at times like this, when he saw happy families, that he felt alone.
He shook his head.
He was not alone. He had Ben. And anyway, his parents were always with him, as they were one with The Force.
Finally, he boarded the train, using The Force to help him lift his trunk off of the trolley, and went into an empty compartment. Using The Force, he lifted his trunk into the luggage rack and sat down.
As he waited for the train to leave, he meditated.
He could sense The Force surrounding him and the platform. He could sense hundreds, if not thousands, of people, the vast majority of whom were Force sensitive. He supposed that the few non-Force sensitive were the parents of students whom came from non-Force sensitive families.
There were so many of them, he wondered if this was what it felt like to walk through the old Jedi temple. Though, he doubted that there would have been so many wield emotions, as the Jedi apparently believe that to much emotion could lead to the Dark Side.
He was so absorbed in his meditation, that he was surprised when he could sense that the train was leaving the station, as he could feel that many of the presences were quickly drawing further away.
Harry decided to focus less on The Force surrounding him, and more on his memory of what he had read so far from his text books.
He found many of them interesting, especially the many ways that these wizards had found to manipulate The Force.
He remembered that Professor McGonagall had told him that she taught Transfiguration. Harry was curious as to how exactly The Force could be used to change the form and mature of one thing into another. He was also interested in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, as they both seemed as if they could be used in combat.
Something that had peaked his interest was potions, as it sounded very similar to cooking. Over the years, though he had originally been forced to cook for the Dursleys, he had actually come to enjoy it. When Aunt Petunia wasn't breathing down his neck, he found it quite relaxing and sometimes even therapeutic. He was interested to see how Potions was in comparison.
Soon, he could sense someone approaching his compartment. From what he could sense, it was a boy around his age.
He opened his eyes just in time to see the compartment door open to reveal a red-haired boy.
"Hello?" The boy said hesitantly. "Can I sit here? Everywhere else his full."
"Sure." Harry replied.
After putting his trunk in the luggage rack, the boy sat on the seats opposite him.
For a long time, they both just sat in awkward silence. Harry was not sure how to interact with children his own age, as Dudley had been sure to scare away anyone who could have potentially become his friend. So he was not sure how to begin a conversation with this boy. Thankfully, the boy began it for him.
"So," The red-head began. "This your first year too?"
"Yes." Harry replied.
"Okay." The boy replied.
Another long silence.
"I'm Ron Weasley." The boy finally blurted.
"Harry Potter." He replied.
Instantly, the boy's eyes widened.
"Really?"
He nodded.
"Do... Do you have...?"
"Yes, I have the scar." Harry replied.
"Blimey." Ron said.
Harry could sense that Ron was shocked.
"Please, don't act like that." He said. "I am just like everyone else."
"But... But you..." Ron began.
Harry lifted a hand.
"I do not remember exactly what happened that night. Please, I don't want anyone treating me differently because I'm apparently famous. Really, I only found out about how exactly my parents died less than a month ago."
Harry could see Ron become slack-jawed and could sense his ever increasing shock.
"But... How can you not know?"
Harry shrugged.
"I was raised by my non-magical relatives, who were not exactly forth-coming with information."
He looked at Ron seriously.
"Please, I'm only here to learn magic and make friends. If you are only interested in me for my fame, then please leave. But, if you genuinely want to be my friend, they feel free to stay."
Ron remained in his seat, and Harry could sense that he was still shocked, but that he genuinely wanted to be his friend.
"So," Harry began finally. "Tell me about yourself."

Ron told him about many things, including a sport called quidditch, and his favourite team, the Chudley Cannons. Then, he talked about his large family. Harry could sense that Ron felt slightly jealous of his elder brothers, and as if he has to try extremely hard so that he would not be overshadowed by them. He could also sense that Ron felt embarrassed about being poor, but Harry was quick to comfort him about this.
"You know," He began. "I actually think you are quite rich."
"You do?" Ron asked, surprised.
"Yeah." Harry replied. "Yes, you might not be financially rich, but at least you are surrounded by people who love you. I will I had so many siblings and two parents who loved me so much."
"Oh," Ron said, blinking. "I... I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay." He replied.
There conversation continued, with Ron talking more about the wizarding world, mostly of Quidditch, until their conversation was interrupted.
The compartment door slid open to reveal a bushy-haired girl with rather large front teeth.
"Excuse me." She began in a somewhat bossy voice. "Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one."
"No." Harry replied. "But would you like some help looking for it?"
"Yes, that would be good, thanks." The girl replied.
Harry got up.
"Wait here." He said to Ron before leaving.
He used The Force to guide him, searching for an escaped toad. Eventually, he found the toad near the front carriage. Clutching the still riving toad, he turned to face the girl, who had followed him.
"That... That was incredible." She said. "How did you..."
Harry shrugged.
"Just a little trick."
The girl began to lead him back to the boy who had lost the toad.
"So, what's your name?" Harry asked after they had returned the toad.
"I'm Hermione Granger." She replied.
"Nice to meet you." He said. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."
"Are you really?" She asked.
Harry could feel her becoming excited.
"I've read all about you..."
Harry cut her off.
"Don't believe everything you read." He said.
"B But..." Hermione stuttered. "It's in a book, written by a professional..."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, and often non-fiction books can be influenced by the author's own bias." He remarked. "Tell me, what exactly do the books say about me?"
"They say that you defeated You-'know-Who, when you were only a baby." Hermione began. "And that ever since Albus Dumbledore has been raising you in a secret location and training you and your powerful gifts."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me Hermione, does it look like I've been getting special training for the past ten years?"
"Well umm... No." Hermione replied.
"Well then." Harry continued. "I would ask that you not make assumptions of be, based on books written by people who know nothing of me."
"Oh, sorry." Hermione replied.
Harry could feel the girl becoming very embarrassed.
"Hey, do you want to come and sit with me?" He said.
"Sure." Hermione replied, instantly cheering up.
After returning to the compartment and introduce Hermione to Ron, they all sat began talking about their home life. Hermione apparently came from a non-magical family, and was extremely excited when she found out she was a witch.
However, only a few minutes after she had joined the compartment, the door slid open again. Harry looked up to see the boy from Madam Malkin's.
"Hello again." Harry said. "Fancy seeing you."
"You never told me you were Harry Potter." The boy retorted.
"You never asked." Harry replied calmly. "Now, if are here because you want to be friends, primarily because you wish to leach off my fame, then I would ask for you to leave. Otherwise, feel free to take a seat."
The boy just stood there for a long time. Finally, he entered the compartment and sat down.
"I have... Been thinking about what we discussed." The boy began.
Harry could sense the unsurely coming off of the boy.
"And?" Harry asked.
"And," The boy sucked in a deep breath. "I am... Willing, to hear other opinions."
Harry smiled.
"Good. So, what's your name."
"Malfoy." The boy replied. "Draco Malfoy."
Ron snickered. Instantly, Draco scowled.
"Think my name's funny, do you? It's not hard to see who you are..."
Harry could sense the growing hostility growing between the two.
"Am I missing something?" He asked of the two boys."
They both turned to him.
"His family and my family famously don't like each other." Ron began.
"Why?" Harry asked.
They blinked, then turned to each other.
"I... Don't know how it began." Ron began.
"Nor do I." Draco agreed.
"Then why are you still arguing?" Hermione asked. "If you don't even know what your fighting for?"
"It's a family thing." The both replied.
"The sins of the father are not the sins of the son." Harry replied. "Just because your ancestors started this feud, does not mean that you have to continue it."
Both boys looked to him, then each other.
"I suppose he has a point." Draco conceded.
He extended a hand to Ron, who shook it hesitantly.
Harry grinned.
"Good, now kissing and make up."
Both boys immediately flinched back from each other, disgust on their faces. Harry laughed.
"Joking."
Both boys calmed down. Draco then turned to Hermione.
"I still do not know who you are." He said.
"I'm Hermione Granger." She replied.
Draco began to sneer at the obviously non-magical name, but Harry quickly shot him a look to remind him that he was supposed to be open to opinions.
"It is, nice to meet you, Hermione." Draco managed to say.
"Thanks." She replied. "It's nice to meet you too."
They all fell into silence, not sure of what to say. Finally, Hermione brought up the subject of the Hogwarts houses.
"I think I'm going to be in Ravenclaw." She began. "Though I wouldn't mind being in Gryffindor."
"My entire family has been in Gryffindor." Ron said. "So I'm probably going to be there too."
"I am most likely going to be in Slytherin." Draco began.
Harry could instantly feel Ron become tense.
"You mean the same house that You-Know-Who was in?" Ron asked darkly. "I've heard that there's not a witch or wizard that was in Slytherin that hasn't gone dark."
"Ron," Harry said warningly. "Please do not judge an entire house due to the actions of a few. Do you believe that all Germans are Nazis?"
Ron shook his head.
"Sorry." He muttered.
An awkward silence fell upon the compartment.
"So," Hermione began. "What house do you think you'll be in Harry?"
Harry shrugged.
"I don't know, nor do I care."
"You, don't?" Ron asked, blinking.
Harry shook his head.
"I find it a bit ridiculous, to tell you the truth." He replied. "Separate people based on personality traits of all things? And anyone, we need all sorts of people to make a society work."
The three other children blinked.
"You know, he makes a point." Hermione finally said.
The two other boys nodded in agreement. Harry smiled.
"I think we should make a promise." He began. "No matter what house we get put into, we will still at least try to be friends."
He put his hand in the centre of their group. After much hesitation, they one by one put their hands on top of his.
Harry smiled. This friends making business was easier than he had thought.

For the rest for the journey, the four new friends talked about various things together. Eventually, the sky grew darker and the three boys changed into their robes while Hermione, who had already put on hers, waited outside. Together they left the train and walked over to where a giant of a man was yelling for all of the first-years. They climbed into one of the many boat and sailed with the rest of their classmates over the incredible lake.
Harry was once again amazed by The Force energy which flowed through the great castle of Hogwarts. It was ancient, powerful, almost sentient. Harry felt as if The Force was practically singing to him.
Finally, they reached the other side of the lake. The giant led them to the front doors, where Harry could both see and sense Professor McGonagall. After leading them into the castle and telling them about the houses and the standards of the school, she left them in a side chamber for a few minutes.
Harry could sense the excitement and nervousness seeping off of the gathered students in waves. Harry just calmly stood and waited.
Finally, Professor McGonagall returned and escorted them into the Great Hall.
He looked around in amazement. He could sense the hundreds of students around him. He could sense the powerful presences of the teachers at the head-table. It was almost overwhelming.
Finally, the arrived at the front of the hall. Professor McGonagall pulled out a three legged stool and an old hat.
At first look, the hat seemed like just another old hat. However, after examining it through The Force, he could feel something old, wise, powerful, within the hat.
Finally, a rip appeared in the hat, resembling a hat, and it began to sing.
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The hall applauded. Harry joined in, though his mind was thinking over the song. It was rather informative in regards to the four houses. Though, he was still not sure which house he would be in.
Professor McGonagall pulled out a long list and began to read off names.
When she called out, "Granger, Hermione", the bushy-haired girl nervously walked to the stool. Harry shot her a reassuring smile.
She sat on the stool for a long time, before the hat finally called:
"Ravenclaw!"
Smiling, Hermione got off of the stool and walked over to the Ravenclaw house table.
The hat had only just touched Draco's head when it yelled out:
"Slytherin!"
Harry smiled as his blond friend walked over to the Slytherin table.
After only a few more names, it was his turn.
As soon as McGonagall called out the name "Potter, Harry", the entire hall fell into silence. Harry could sense that they were all waiting in excited anticipation, wondering where he would be sorted. He did not need The Force to tell him that they were all staring at him. Harry ignored them and walked to the stool. Though Harry wouldn't admit it, he was slightly nervous. He could sense that the house he was sorted into would greatly affect how people saw him.
The last thought that he had before the hat was placed on his head was,
"Oh, I hope this thing doesn't have head lice."
As soon as the hat fell upon his head, he could sense a presence attempting to penetrate his mind. After scanning it for any ill-intent, he allowed it into his mind.
[Hmm, how strange.]
Harry jerked, but then realised that it must be the hat.
[Such power.]
The hat remarked.
[There's courage,, definitely. Oh, and there's intelligence here too. And ambition... You wish for people to see you as you truly are... You wish to not be alone...]
The hat continued.
[You wish to help others who can't help themselves... You wish to put your powers to good... You wish for a family who loves you... You do not care for sides, you only wish for people to stand together... You have a kind heart, and are very loyal to those you love. I see now, you belong in...]
"Hufflepuff!" The hat called.
Harry removed it and gave it back to McGonagall.
The entire hall was silent for a long time. Then, the Hufflepuff table erupted into applause. Smiling, Harry walked over and sat down.
He watched as the remaining first-years were sorted, and smiled as Ron walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat near some red-heads whom Harry assumed were his brothers.
Once the feast began, the entire table broke into several conversations. Many of the older students greeted him and the first-years warmly.
Harry could sense the warmth and joy which seeped off of the Hufflepuff table. Every single last member seemed welcoming. This made Harry feel happy. He lost track of how many people talked to him. At first they mostly asked him questions such as:
"Are you really Harry Potter?"
Harry quickly informed them that he did not feel comfortable talking about the night his parents had died, and that he only wished to be treated like everyone else. They all quickly calmed down and smiled understandingly.
As Harry explored the hall through The Force, he took his awareness to the staff table. For some reason, one of the teachers was glaring at him. He could feel the hatred rolling off of the man in waves.
"Hey, who's that?" He asked a fourth year boy who had introduced himself as Cedric Diggory.
"Oh, that's Professor Snape." Cedric replied. "He teaches potions."
Harry frowned.
"He doesn't seem to like me."
Cedric shrugged.
"He doesn't like anyone that much. It's best to be careful around him."
"Thanks." Harry replied.
He returned to exploring the staff table. What drew his attention next was... Oh, Force...
He could sense a high amount of concentrated Dark Force energy radiating from one of the teachers. The teacher seemed jittery, with a purple turban. Harry had to steady himself. For some reason, it felt familiar, but he did not know why.
He decided to stop looking at the staff table after this.

After the feast, the prefects led them down to the common-room, which was near the kitchens. After showing them how to enter the common-room, they were led to there dorms.
Harry had to share a dorm with six other boys, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-fletchley, Zacharias Smith, Wayne Hopkins, Roger Malone and Kevin Entwhistle. He did not care, it seemed better than the Dursleys anyway.
The entire house seemed nicer than the Dursleys. They were all welcoming, for the post part. For the first time since Harry could remember, he felt as if he was wanted.
He thought about his new friends, Draco, Hermione and Ron. He could sense that, despite them all being in different houses, they would soon build a bound no one could break.
He went to bed, with a smile on his face, thinking about all that had happened that day.

Ben smiled as he watched his son fall asleep. He did not think he had ever felt the boy this happy. He was glad, to see his son finally receive the joy he deserved. He was content in the knowledge that, at last, Harry would be experiencing the joy that had been denied to him his entire life.
Satisfied that his son was safe and well, he went to where he could sense that McGonagall was in her office with a cup of tea and talking to another teacher, whom Ben recognised to be the head of Hufflepuff, Pomona Sprout.
"... Really nice of you inviting me here Minerva." Sprout was saying. "Though I must say, why have you invited me here so late?"
Ben could sense the tension within McGonagall.
"You see Pomona, I wish to speak to you about one of your new students. Young Mr Potter, to be exact."
"Oh?" Sprout asked quizzically. "I did hear that you were the one to take him shopping for his school supplies."
"Yes." McGonagall replied. "As you may recall, after James and Lily's deaths, Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom, thought it best if the boy were raised by Lily's muggle sister Petunia and her husband Vernon Dursley. Albus believed that they would give him the love and care he needs. Well, when I went to pick him up, I am afraid that I learnt some very... Troubling things concerning his home life."
"Oh really?" Sprout asked. "It must be bad if you are so frazzled."
McGonagall sighed.
"Pomona, if you were there... It took every bit of strength I had not to take him away from there at once."
"What is it, Minerva?" Sprout asked, concerning pouring off of her.
McGonagall sighed again.
"It began when he showed me the exact address of his letter. Do you recall how the address even shows the exact living quarters of the student in question?"
"Yes." Sprout asked, confused.
-Well, right where it should have said his bedroom, it said the cupboard under the stairs."
Sprout almost spilt her tea.
"The what?" She asked in horror. "Do you mean to tell me that..."
"His relatives have been making him sleep in the cupboard under the stairs for the past ten years." McGonagall finished.
"But that's no place to keep a child." Sprout said in outrage. "It... It is so small, and dark... And there could be all kinds of spiders and other insects..."
"It gets worse." McGonagall said.
"I do not see how it could..." Sprout began.
"Mr Potter informed me that, from the age of five at least, he had been made to do practically all of the housework, including the cooking." McGonagall continued.
Sprout was becoming pale.
"The poor boy knew nothing of our world, not even of how his parents died."
"Well, you couldn't expect them to tell a child that his parents had been murdered by a dark wizard." Sprout began.
"Yes, but what they did tell him was possibly even more atrocious." McGonagall retorted.
"What?" Sprout asked, clearly dreading the answer.
McGonagall sucked in a breath. Ben could sense the anger still pouring off of her.
"They told him that they were drunks who died in an accident involving a muggle form of transport called a car."
This time, Sprout actually spilt her tea.
"Well I never... Telling that... To a child..."
McGonagall sighed.
"And now you see why I called you here."
"But, surely Albus could..." Sprout began.
"Albus was the one who put him there." McGonagall retorted. "He thinks that Mr Potter is actually safe there, even after I told him everything."
Sprout's hands were shaking. Ben could sense her temper rising.
"Well, we have to do something." She said.
"Yes, I am aware of this." McGonagall agreed. "I was hoping that you could help me."
"What can I do?" Sprout asked.
"As Mr Potter's head of house, I need you to keep an eye on him." McGonagall began. "Make sure he is alright. I will try to convince Albus to listen to reason. If not, then we may have to go to the ministry itself."
Sprout sighed.
"I am willing to do anything. I will not stand aside while one of my students is suffering in a place that he is forced to call home."
McGonagall smiled.
"Thank you."
Ben also smiled. Dumbledore could not so easily manipulate the situation now. With any luck, the Dursleys will face the justice they deserve. He was now curious to see how the two witches will react next summer, when Harry executes his plan of living on the wind.