"Follow me. Now."
In the entrance courtyard beneath the stars, Harry still reeling from the terrible news of Azkaban's fall, his mind struggling to process the magnitude of it—was left completely tongue-tied by Professor Watson's sudden order.
"But, where are we going? My luggage—there are still a few days left in the term, Professor?"
The questions tumbled out in confusion.
Could it be that Voldemort was already marshalling his newly returned followers for an assault on Hogwarts? Was the castle under threat right now? Sirius and Remus stared at Bryan with wide, uncertain eyes that reflected Harry's own bewilderment and fear.
"I'm taking you back to the Dursleys, Harry," Bryan said directly.
He noticed that his sharp tone had frightened Harry and he consciously softened his expression slightly, trying to appear less intimidating.
"We need to spend one night at your aunt and uncle's house on Privet Drive. Just one night. First thing tomorrow morning, we leave for Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. That is where you will spend the remainder of the summer. But tonight, we go to Little Whinging."
'Spending the summer at Sirius's house.' The thought blazed through Harry's mind like sunlight.
The sudden wave of joy swept away Harry's fear in an instant, washing over him like warm water.
"Then why can't we go directly to Grimmauld Place, Professor?" Harry asked eagerly, hope rising in his chest.
"Well, they are your aunt and uncle, aren't they, Harry?" Bryan said simply.
"Every summer up until now, you have spent at their home on Privet Drive. Since I intend to take you away this year—I think I owe them an explanation in person."
"Is it because of the Death Eater breakout, Professor?" Hermione's voice cut in sharply.
Her face had gone pale, her mind was already making connections. The words spilled from her before she could stop them.
"Are you worried it isn't safe for Harry to stay with his aunt and uncle this summer?"
"Oh, I could just send them a letter—the Dursleys will be absolutely thrilled to hear I won't be 'imposing' on them this summer!"
Harry grinned widely, still giddy from the good news about spending summer at Grimmauld Place, the grim reality of Voldemort's swelling forces was momentarily forgotten in his teenage excitement.
"Explaining in person is more courteous, Harry," Bryan said firmly.
"After all, they are your legal guardians according to both Muggle and wizarding law. That means something, whether you like them or not."
Harry muttered something under his breath. That designation had been true enough before Sirius returned to the wizarding world and was proven innocent, but his godfather was back now, wasn't he? Sirius had every right to take custody.
Sirius stood listening to all of this exchange, a small frown creasing his brow, his grey eyes were thoughtful.
He didn't for a moment believe that Bryan had any real respect for Harry's dreadful Muggle relatives.
The far more likely reason for this urgency was the one that Dumbledore and Bryan had already explained to him in private: the blood protection, why Harry had to return to the Dursleys each summer no matter what, no matter how much everyone involved hated it.
But why was Bryan in such a desperate hurry about it?
The victory banquet for the Triwizard Tournament hadn't even ended yet—students were still celebrating inside, music was still playing.
Night had already fallen across the grounds, yet here Bryan was, insisting that Harry pack his things and leave for the Dursleys this very evening, immediately, without even one night's rest. Bryan's unusual urgency cast a long shadow over everyone present, making the warm summer night feel suddenly cold.
"That means you as well, Hermione. And Ron," Bryan's sharp gaze shifted to the two of them standing slightly behind Harry.
Neither Ron nor Hermione had expected Professor Watson to call their names. Both stared at him in shock, eyes wide, mouths slightly open.
"They need to leave tonight as well, Bryan?" Sirius could no longer hold his tongue, concern was flooding through him.
"Pack your things, both of you, and go with Harry," Bryan commanded.
"Arthur, Molly—would you allow Ron to stay at Grimmauld Place for the time being? And Hermione, I suggest you write to your parents right now, say you need to remain in the wizarding world a little longer. Then go with Ron to Grimmauld Place tonight."
Bryan spoke with perfect calm.
"What's going on, Bryan?" Remus's voice was grave, edged with worry.
"Is Voldemort already preparing for all-out war?"
The three young wizards strained their ears desperately, staring fixedly at Professor Watson, hanging on every word.
"Go on—hurry up and pack your things," Bryan said. He did not answer Remus directly. His tone left absolutely no room for argument or questions.
The three students had no choice but to leave, casting uncertain glances back at the adults as they reluctantly headed toward the castle entrance.
"It's not Voldemort, Remus,"
Only once Harry and the others had disappeared through the grand entrance doors and were safely out of hearing distance did Bryan turn back to answer the waiting adults.
"Kingsley got word to me this afternoon through a messenger. He overheard Fudge and Dawlish plotting something in the Minister's office. He only caught one line from their conversation, but it was enough."
"The Minister and Dawlish?" Mr. Arthur Weasley asked, his voice was hollow. His face had gone white as parchment, his lips were barely moving with shock.
"What did Kingsley hear? What did they say?"
"'Harry Potter has nowhere left to run,'" Bryan quoted, letting the words speak for themselves.
"Those were Dawlish's exact words to Fudge. Dumbledore and I both believe that Fudge is planning to use Harry as a scapegoat—to shift public attention away from the Azkaban disaster, to escape the Ministry's current crisis, and, incidentally, to rein in the 'insolence' of people like Dumbledore and me who refuse to fall in line with his narrative about Voldemort."
A sharp gust of wind swallowed Sirius's roar of fury whole before it could escape fully into the night, but everyone saw his face contort with rage.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Every student and member of staff, ghosts included was still gathered in the Great Hall for the ongoing celebration. Down the ancient stone corridors, the staircases were still ringing with centuries of history and countless footsteps, the hurried footsteps of three students echoed sharply against the walls.
"Hermione!" Harry called out breathlessly as they rushed through the halls.
"Don't ask me, Harry!" Hermione shot back.
Torches passed in quick succession as they ran, throwing flickering light over Hermione's flushed, anxious face.
"Unless—just like Remus said—after regrouping his old followers from Azkaban, You-Know-Who is already planning to launch an all-out war! That's the only explanation!"
'All-out war.' The phrase fell from Hermione's lips, and the weight of it pressed down on all three of them until it felt hard to breathe properly. The corridor seemed to narrow around them.
"But that can't be right, can it?"
As the three of them turned sharply into the corridor leading to the Fat Lady's portrait, Ron's voice came out uncertain and frightened.
"Even You-Know-Who can't fight the entire Ministry and Dumbledore and Professor Watson all at once, can he? That would be suicide!"
"He is an utterly evil and utterly mad Dark wizard, Ron," Harry said firmly.
The Fat Lady, extremely put out at having been summoned back from the celebrations where she'd been having a wonderful time, grumbled loudly about inconsiderate students. Harry paid her absolutely no attention, pressing forward with Remus's earlier point.
"Expecting Voldemort to be reasonable or logical is laughable. For all we know, he really is planning to go to war—against the entire wizarding world, against Professor Watson, against Dumbledore, against everyone and everything at once."
One by one, the three of them clambered awkwardly through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room.
With everyone at the banquet below, the common room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
As they rushed toward the spiral staircase leading to the dormitories, Harry's eyes swept over the familiar room—the comfortable armchairs where he'd done homework, the crackling fire that never got out, the cluttered notice board covered with announcements, all the familiar, faded details he had known and loved for four years.
Everything seemed to blur, as if seen through gauze or fog.
'From this moment on, the past is gone for good,'
The thought surfaced in Harry's mind before he could stop it.
The two boys threw their belongings together in a complete frenzy, the dread of an uncertain future was keeping them both utterly silent.
"Blimey, I never knew my luggage was this heavy—how on earth did it get up here in the first place?"
Ron, who had finished packing first, heaved his battered trunk experimentally and looked genuinely astonished at its weight.
"We've never had to do this ourselves, Ron," Harry said.
He unhooked Hedwig's empty cage from beside the window. Hedwig was somewhere out on one of her flights, or perhaps up in the Owlery with the other school owls—he wasn't worried. He trusted she'd find him wherever he went, as she always did.
"The house-elves always moved our things for us at the start and end of term."
"Oh—right, I completely forgot!"
Ron smacked his forehead with his palm and wrestled his enormous trunk out of the dormitory, swearing under his breath.
"What took you so long?"
When Harry and Ron came stumbling down the stairs, Hermione had just finished her letter to her parents and was folding it precisely into an envelope.
"The trunks are heavy, Hermione," Harry explained, still breathless from the exertion.
"If you don't mind—could you ask Dobby to help us carry them down? Professor Watson is waiting for us outside. We're already late."
"When are you two ever going to use your heads properly?" Hermione gave Harry a look of such profound exasperation that he actually felt embarrassed.
"Honestly—we're still inside Hogwarts, not out in the countryside somewhere. A simple Levitation Charm will do the job perfectly well! You've been doing magic for four years!"
'Right. Magic.'
Harry and Ron exchanged a sheepish glance, then quietly pulled out their wands and levitated their trunks.
When they passed back through the entrance hall with their floating luggage, the Great Hall was still active with noise and laughter and music.
Harry hesitated at the doorway, then decided against going in to interrupt Hagrid, who was deep in energetic conversation with Madame Maxime, gesturing wildly with his enormous hands.
The adults were still waiting patiently in the courtyard beneath the stars. Harry noticed with a pang that every look they directed at him now carried a heaviness that hadn't been there before.
"Are you sure you haven't left anything behind?
Bryan stepped forward to check their belongings carefully.
"My letter, Professor—" Hermione held up the envelope.
Hermione held up the envelope she had spent the last five minutes carefully composing.
"I don't have an owl of my own to send it, Professor."
"That's not a problem at all," Bryan said smoothly.
He snapped his fingers. The letter vanished from Hermione's hand instantly, whisked away.
"Off you go, Harry—" Sirius said, his voice was rough.
He gripped Harry's shoulder hard, fighting to keep his voice steady and not reveal how worried he was.
"I'll be waiting to have breakfast with you tomorrow morning at Grimmauld Place. First thing. Don't make me wait."
A hurried farewell—too quick, too insufficient for everything Harry wanted to say and then Bryan took charge of Harry's trunk with a wave of his wand.
The two of them set off at a swift pace across the dark grounds toward the gates.
"How are we getting there, Professor Watson?"
Harry asked as they passed through the tall iron school gates that marked the boundary of Hogwarts.
"Apparition," Bryan answered simply.
He came to a halt just beyond the boundary of the Hogwarts grounds where the wards ended and Apparition became possible.
"Fortunately, I have visited your aunt and uncle's home before on Privet Drive, so we can Apparate directly to their doorstep—there's no need to trouble Dumbledore's phoenix for transportation."
Bryan placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. One stomach-lurching spin later of the sensation of being pulled through a very tight tube—the chirp of insects and the whisper of wind through trees was gone completely.
The neat pavement stretching ahead of them on both sides by the amber glow of identical streetlamps, told Harry everything he needed to know about where they'd arrived.
He had left the wizarding world behind.
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