"You-Know-Who doesn't care whether you're from a respectable family or not. I'm merely giving you a warning."
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow and spoke calmly.
"Don't you have magic? Can't you deal with that You-Know-Who fellow?" Uncle Vernon roared.
Anyone who suddenly discovered that they had become the target of a terrorist—especially one capable of using magic—would probably react this way, or perhaps even more dramatically.
"I'm afraid they possess magic as well, and they are far more powerful than we are," Professor McGonagall replied calmly, though a hint of helplessness could be heard in her voice.
"Where is that old man with the white beard who came here before?"
"He's dead."
Professor McGonagall answered without hesitation, though a trace of sorrow entered her voice.
"Ha…"
Vernon still remembered the sharp gaze hidden behind the old man's glasses. Now, he felt even more suffocated.
"Then what are we supposed to do?"
"Dumbledore's protective magic will remain effective until next year. Until then, this place is actually the safest location available. If You-Know-Who has still not been defeated by that time, you may have to relocate."
Vernon's fingers trembled. He wanted to point at Professor McGonagall and say something, but then decided it would be impolite. The woman standing before him was clearly not someone he could easily intimidate.
"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a place to live?" he muttered as he sank back into his chair.
"It seems we've reached an agreement."
"Let's go, Harry."
"But my luggage, and…"
"You have approximately five minutes to prepare."
Professor McGonagall glanced at the old-fashioned quartz clock hanging in the centre of the living room.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Harry waved at his relatives before following Professor McGonagall outside.
The two of them walked along one side of Privet Drive. Evening had arrived, and a row of streetlights had already been switched on, stretching towards the opposite end of the street. Their warm yellow light spread through the lane, creating a faint sense of comfort.
Their shadows alternated between long and short as they moved, as though they were constantly passing from one pool of moonlight into another.
"Where are we going now, Professor McGonagall?"
"First, we'll go to Diagon Alley."
"If we purchase your textbooks now, you won't need to prepare anything else when the start of term approaches."
"Why are we going so early?"
"If we wait until closer to the beginning of the term, You-Know-Who will be keeping an eye on you."
Professor McGonagall explained this as though she already knew what Harry wanted to ask.
"But the nearest Floo Network connection is over there…"
Harry pointed in the opposite direction from the route they were taking.
"We won't be using the Floo Network. Besides, look—we're already here."
A bright purple bus pulled up in front of them.
The Knight Bus.
As a means of transportation, it was currently considered relatively safe. The most dangerous period had not yet arrived.
"Two passengers, two tickets… All right. Do you need toothbrushes?"
"No, thank you," Professor McGonagall replied politely.
Harry nodded in agreement.
Before long, they arrived at Diagon Alley.
The street was now deserted, with barely anyone walking around.
Some of the more perceptive residents had already heard the rumours and sensed that something was wrong.
And the start of the school term was still some time away.
Shop windows that had once displayed spellbooks, potion ingredients, and crucibles in dazzling colours were now almost entirely covered by large notices issued by the Ministry of Magic.
The notices were purple and looked ominous. They came in various forms, some showing figures with their faces obscured and bodies hidden beneath cloaks.
The descriptions beneath them identified the figures as Vampires who had attacked several innocent Muggles and wizards.
Werewolves also made up part of the group. Their posters depicted them grinning menacingly, their sharp teeth fully exposed.
There were giants as well, though they had not harmed anyone. They had merely destroyed several buildings.
Several shop windows had been boarded up, including those of Florin Fortescue's ice-cream parlour.
Meanwhile, a number of shabby stalls had suddenly appeared on both sides of the street.
The nearest one stood beneath a stained, striped awning outside Flourish and Blotts. A cardboard sign had been nailed to its front:
Amulets: Effective protection against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi.
The main entrance to Flourish and Blotts was closed. Only a small, movable door in the lower-right corner remained open, much like the entrances of most shops along the street.
Professor McGonagall and Harry hunched over slightly as they entered.
"Buy the books first. Then you won't need to come here again."
"The Weasleys are waiting for you. You'll have a wonderful time during the second half of your holiday."
"Add this one as well."
Professor McGonagall included a brand-new copy of Advanced Potion-Making among the books.
"Although the results haven't been released yet, I don't think I'll be able to get into the Potions class," Harry said helplessly.
"Don't give up hope."
Professor McGonagall ignored his protest.
"Take it. It will be useful later, and you may be pleasantly surprised."
"But before that, there are two people you need to meet."
After leaving Flourish and Blotts, they walked down the street towards another shop.
A brightly coloured sign hung above its entrance. It featured a cartoonish little boy making a face, with the word WEASLEY written in red gradient lettering above his head.
It was the Weasley joke shop.
"We're among the few shopkeepers brave enough to open our doors today," George and Fred said with a laugh.
The Weasley Joke Shop?
Harry felt that he had already guessed the answer.
"This is your shop?"
"We've graduated," Fred explained.
"Yes. I've finally entered the workforce," George added solemnly.
"Come and look at our merchandise!"
The two brothers enthusiastically invited Harry inside, reaching out to pull him into the shop.
"It's time to leave. We don't have much time."
Professor McGonagall shook her head. She still kept her distance from the twins' prank products.
"Now, we should go to the Weasleys' home. That's where you'll be staying from now on."
"Your report card will also be sent there."
After giving Harry a few more instructions, Professor McGonagall led him to a secluded, shadowy corner near the entrance to the alley.
"Hold my hand tightly. If I remember correctly, you haven't passed your Apparition test yet."
After a brief moment of distortion, Harry suddenly felt his body become unreal, almost as though he were floating in mid-air.
His vision twisted and blurred before gradually becoming clear again.
When his feet returned to solid ground, Harry finally felt reality settle around him. He adjusted his glasses and looked ahead.
A slightly crooked, Tudor-style house stood before him, with a chicken coop beside it. Everything—from the floors and ceilings to the stairs—seemed a little uneven.
Nothing was perfect.
"All right. I still have some work to do."
Professor McGonagall led Harry to the door of the shabby house but did not enter.
"The rest is up to you, Molly."
"All right. I'll make sure he gains a few pounds while he's staying with me."
Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry delightedly, speaking quickly. She did not release him for quite some time.
"Long time no see, Harry!"
Ron also gave him a hug.
Harry looked around carefully and immediately became flustered.
Several familiar faces had gathered around the table.
Sirius, Ginny, a strange pink-haired woman, Lupin, and others…
They were clustered around a low wooden table, its legs and surface covered with grease stains and scratches.
These were the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix.
After exchanging greetings, Lupin introduced Harry to the people he did not yet know.
"This is Nymphadora Tonks."
"Just call me Tonks. I remember we met on the Hogwarts Express, Harry."
As Lupin turned to let Ron pass, his arm accidentally struck something, knocking over a teacup.
Pale-red tea spread across the grain of the wooden table.
"If only…"
Sirius stared at the scene before him, his voice trailing off halfway through his exclamation.
The contract he had signed with his nephew also contained confidentiality clauses.
He had wanted to say that things would have been better if his ancestral home had not been transferred.
But every time he began, he stopped abruptly.
Actually, the Burrow isn't so bad either.
Apart from being somewhat crowded, it gave him a certain feeling of warmth and belonging.
"Where's Mr. Moody?"
Harry looked around and suddenly realised that someone was missing.
"He was attacked by dozens of Werewolves in Wesham Forest."
Lupin's smile faded slightly, and he spoke in a low voice.
"Hiss…"
Harry drew in a sharp breath.
"It's all right. In the end, only his wooden prosthetic leg was bitten. He won't turn into a Werewolf."
"Most of the Werewolves, on the other hand, ended up as roasted meat and ashes."
"However, he's currently recovering at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The healers need some time to make him a new leg."
"I suppose your Defence Against the Dark Arts class will have to change teachers again."
Lupin shrugged.
"Should we go and visit him?"
Harry shook his head and said that it was unnecessary.
"And what about Hermione?"
"I don't know. Perhaps something else has happened."
"Stop asking so many questions and let Harry rest for a while."
Mrs. Weasley brought over several more cups of hot tea.
"It's been a long time since we've had such a lively gathering."
Her face was bright with smiles.
"Aren't George and Fred noisy enough already?" Ron complained irritably.
"That's different."
Mrs. Weasley looked around at everyone gathered before her and nodded with satisfaction.
She thoroughly enjoyed having her family together.