Harry's stomach was in knots as they approached the Dursleys' house. Memories flooded through his mind even just looking at the exterior of the house—the little flower garden that Harry had been forced to weed in the blazing sun. The window his uncle had barred during the summer of his second year. The mail slot that had flooded with acceptance letters from Hogwarts, that his uncle had boarded up in a vain effort to keep Harry away from any chance of happiness.

It would only be for two weeks. He could handle two weeks.

Harry was hoping Remus would drop him off at the Dursleys' house and then be on his way. Apparently, nothing of the sort was on his mind. He walked Harry up to the front doorstep and actually knocked for him.

There was a pause, and then muffled grumbling could be heard from the other side

"—at this ungodly hour of the morning—" The door swung open, and there stood Uncle Vernon in his pajamas.

"Good morning, Mr. Dursley," Remus said, though without a trace of a smile on his face. "I've come to bring Harry to you."

"Oh." Uncle Vernon's eyes were wrinkled from recent sleep. "Well, get in, then."

Harry picked up his suitcase and took a step toward the door.

"Ruddy bad manners, if you ask me. My wife wasted a trip out to the train station yesterday. Thought we were rid of you, didn't we? Then this morning, here you are. Ungrateful as ever."

"Pardon?" Remus said.

Harry kept trying to shake his head at Remus, but Remus wasn't responding. "It's fine," Harry muttered. "Really, it's okay." He should have thought about the fact that the school would have contacted his aunt and uncle about when to be at the train station. Harry was used to this kind of rudeness from his uncle, but he also knew how it probably sounded to someone who wasn't. Still, he didn't want Remus to try to get involved. No good could possibly come of that altercation; it would just make things worse for Harry in the long run. He needed to make it through these two weeks.

Remus's eyebrows were knitted together, but he didn't say any more to Vernon. Instead, he turned to Harry. "Forget the owl. Floo me if you need me."

Harry nodded. "I will." He had no intention of doing so, though. Having the blood wards for protection was worth a couple of weeks with the Dursleys, and he'd never been here with an actual protective spell over him. It wouldn't be bad enough for him to feel the need to run.

"Take care," Remus said, and he took a couple of steps back, though he seemed determined to wait until he could ensure Harry made it into the house safely before leaving him.

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Harry stepped into the house with his luggage, and he carried them up to his bedroom, where he hoped to spend as much of his time as possible. The Dursleys had been a lot more bearable to live with after Harry told them about Sirius, but it was still better to stay out of their way. If he could spend the majority of the daytime in his room, and sneak out to eat at night, the two weeks would be over in no time. He might even get his summer homework finished before he had to head back to Grimmauld Place, so he could focus on spending time with Sirius while he was there.

His plan failed, though, when he ran into Dudley in the hall.

Dudley's eyes scrunched up in confusion. "When did you get here?"

"This morning," Harry said.

"Mum's not going to be happy."

Harry shrugged and turned to go toward his room.

"So where were you?"

"At my godfather's house."

The effect was immediate and visible. Dudley shrank back. "Sirius Black?"

"Yeah. The murderer."

Dudley swallowed. "Mum says she's gonna call the police about him."

Harry's throat felt dry. The Muggle police wouldn't be able to do much, but word might reach the Wizarding authorities as well. Harry hadn't stopped to think that he might be endangering Sirius by using him as a way to get the Dursleys to leave him alone. "She wouldn't do that." Harry tried and failed to make his voice sound easy and sure. "He's dangerous. If he finds out who made the call . . ."

A hint of a smile played with Dudley's lips—apparently he knew he was getting through—and he straightened up. "She was scared to, but she thinks it might be safer to call it in and have him locked up than to risk him being free." He smirked. "She says she won't have to make the call if you behave."

Harry still had his wand in his pocket. He whipped it out and aimed it at Dudley. "You tell your mum that if she does make that call—"

"Dad!" Dudley whimpered.

"—she'll have to deal with—"

"He's got the—the—"

Uncle Vernon reached the top of the stairs at that moment. Next thing Harry knew, he was being tackled to the ground, his wand skittering across the floor. Not that he could have used it without being expelled, anyway—the Ministry wouldn't care if he had used magic in self defense.

The protective spell Remus had placed over Harry, however, did seem to care that his relatives were technically defending themselves; Harry only wished it had been more interested in who had been the first to provoke the fight, because then it might have protected him more. Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry's wand before Harry could, and managed to land a few whacks over his head and arms as Harry scrambled to his feet and into his room. He'd left his luggage behind in the hall, as well as his wand, but he would have to worry about that later.

Harry stood with his back against the door, his uncle's shouting washing over him as he caught his breath. The back of his head stung in three places and his left shoulder in two, and his right side hurt from hitting the floor. Harry rubbed the sore spots with a slight wince.

He was thankful for the big breakfast Remus had made; leaving his bedroom certainly wasn't in the cards for today, not until he was sure the Dursleys were asleep. He might be able to risk slipping out to use the bathroom for a minute at a time, but going all the way down to the kitchen was certainly not an option. Thinking about that made him feel hungry even though he was still full.

Apparently, he needed to work on his temper, though. If Aunt Petunia was going to use Harry's behavior to inform her decision about whether to make that call about Sirius, Harry couldn't be lashing out at Dudley.

This was going to be more complicated than he'd thought.