-Quinn, Late Afternoon, Thursday 1 August 1991 =-
Quinn was a large Gargoyle. He was designed by Rowena Ravenclaw herself and crafted with the help of the finest goblin stone-workers. The construction was done with a great eye for detail. Individual hairs were sticking out of his pig-like nose. The scales on his back fell naturally over each other as they would for creatures of flesh and blood.
He was much better than those fleshy creatures. His skin was ten times stronger and he had already lived for a millennium. No wizard could even come close to that number.
Being so old and wise, he was the most important Gargoyle of the castle. This gave him an important task. Only he, Quinn, would be allowed to guard the passage to the headmasters office.
Sometimes this vitally important task, was entertaining. He remembered vividly how he killed three dark wizards, that tried to gain access to the headmasters office in the battle of 1207.
For the most of the time, however, it was a boring job. Standing there, still as a statue waiting for someone who wanted to enter. He then had to wait for the password. When the person finally gave the correct password, he would step aside to let them pass. However, that wouldn't stop him from doing his job to the best of his capacity, which was needless to say better than anyone else's. No matter how boring the job was he would continue proving that he was the best gargoyle on the British isles, probably even the whole world.
Humans didn't make the job easy for him though. They restricted his rights to deal with trespassers and kept trying to ignore the protocols that were in place for good reasons.
In the past, he had been allowed to kill any trespasser. However, this right was restricted at what they called "too many casualties". Bullshit, he thought. If you guess a password wrong for three times, you should be decapitated. How else can you avoid people trying to guess passwords.
The headmasters didn't use an effective white-list any-more either. It used to be that the headmaster told him who could pass and if they were not on the list, they were not granted entrance. It was simple and efficient. Still, the headmasters wanted to make it easier for themselves and just added every newborn witch and wizard to the white-list in advance. This quite efficiently defeated its purpose. They were quite stupid, Quinn thought. But that wouldn't stop him doing his job.
Since that time, he had been unable to prevent attackers under Polyjuice. Not because he didn't see them but because they were on the white-list. Quinn had to let them pass once they provided the correct password. According to the protocol, Polyjuice was allowed. After all, the white-list would stop the attacks.
He felt that he, the big Quinn, had become rather useless. Yes, he was an unhappy gargoyle and felt that his skills perfected over centuries were being underutilized and under-appreciated. He also felt that the people in the castle didn't properly understand the importance of the task bestowed to him.
From far, Quinn heard a rather large man approaching. The sound his feet made while colliding with the grounds were heavy. The distinct pattern sounded like Rubeus Hagrid.
The gargoyle looked at the approaching man. He was three and a half meters high. His wild brown beard was like a picture frame for his kind face. His old brown coat waved through the air while he was walking to him. He looked like Hagrid.
The rather large man stopped in front of the statue revealing a distinct smell. The outside life the man was subjected to, combined with the smell of giant-like sweat were pretty unique. The man smelled like Hagrid.
The castle magic revealed that his name was Rubeus Hagrid.
He looked like Hagrid, he smelled like Hagrid, he sounded like Hagrid and magic itself, identified him to be Hagrid. Therefore, it seemed to be fairly likely that this guy was in fact Rubeus Hagrid.
He checked whether Rubeus Hagrid was on the white-list. The fact that every single one of the witches and wizards born in the last 683 years was on the white-list didn't matter. There was a protocol and Quinn would follow it. A lack of changes in the list wouldn't let him slacking off.
After checking the rather large list he found out that Rubeus Hagrid was indeed the alphabetically ordered white-list. As step one was complete, he went to step two of the protocol.
With the magical runes in his body, he erupted a magical field around them. This magical field would stop any people trying to overhear the password. With this field activated, he silently waited for the big man, who was most likely called Rubeus Hagrid, to speak the password.
"Marshmallow" the big man answered, not being heard by anyone else but him. He checked that it was indeed the password that was set 17 days, 3 hours and 52 minutes ago.
As that was the current correct password, the gargoyle stepped aside allowing the large man to pass and listened as he started walking up the spiral staircase.
"Really?" the gargoyle thought. "Humans are getting worse and worse at choosing proper passwords." Who would put such a bad password as a form of security. Anyone can guess it. He had to admit, it was not the worst password he heard, not by far.
The half-giant squeezed himself through the hole. He scratched himself on his left arm as he started climbing the staircase while being slightly bent over. It was obviously made for smaller people.
Quinn knew he could easily make the hole bigger. If he would be asked, he would do so. However, without the request he was not allowed to try to help people. After all, the users of Hogwarts should be aware of the details of the protocol. Rowena Ravenclaw had made a diamen that should inform the headmaster of all the details of the protocol.
-= Albus Dumbledore =-
Albus Dumbledore was reading a nice muggle book. The cover had a green hand drawn picture of a forest and some mountains. He had just completed the first few pages when he was interrupted by a distinct sound. Knowing what it meant, he looked in a small mirror attached to his desk. This mirror, showed him who wanted to enter his office.
Recognizing the rather large man, he waited to the right moment. Just before his grounds-keeper would knock. At the exact right time, he spoke in his old warm voice. "Come in Hagrid".
Nine years ago, Hagrid had accidentally knocked the door out of his frame. Since the incident, he gave people entrance before knocking. The added mystery of responding to the knock before it happened was an added bonus of course.
Hagrid stepped into his office, seemingly a bit frustrated about not being able to knock. On his left arm, he had a minor wound but the man didn't seem to care much. Probably his giant blood flowing through his veins.
Looking over his book he followed the eyes of the rather large man. Hagrid was looking at the countless magical devices spread around in his office. He was obviously wondering about the origin and functionality of some of them. Many people did. Well, those were secrets that he would keep for himself. The mysterious items were a crucial part of the "wise old man" image Dumbledore was so fond of.
Of course, Albus knew the secrets of most devices. Only from one device he couldn't figure out what it did, not that he would ever admit that to anyone of course.
Each device was special in his own way. Some devices would give signals, like puffs of strangely coloured clouds, small melodies of pop muggle songs or frankly anything you could imagine. Ssome of them would change their appearance from day to day. A few of them changed depending on the angle you looked at them. And one of them had a different function if you didn't have your morning tea.
While he put his book away, he noticed how the headmaster was now looking with awe in his eyes at the numberous paintings. Each headmaster was there to provide him with their knowledge and give him advice. At least, that was the theory. In practice they just gave him critics or were chatting in dead and old languages. If they gave advice, most of it was unsolicited, unhelpful and generally unwanted.
Hagrid politely greeted old headmaster. "Good afternoon, Dumbledore"
"What do you mean?" the headmaster responded smiling. He was thinking about the book he just read and couldn't help himself. "Do you wish me a good afternoon, or mean that it is a good afternoon whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this afternoon; or that it is an afternoon to be good on?"
Hagrid looked a bit too tired to think about the words of wisdom. "Whatever you like." the huge man said, dismissing the response to his great disappointment.
The grounds-keeper flopped down on an old wooden chair finally letting his feet rest. It was a wooden chair not quite like most others in the castle, the chair was crafted from thick pieces of wood and specially made to handle the increased weight of the large man. It was a bit rough at some places but the craftsmanship was still obvious in the construction. Despite the increased durability of the chair it still creaked audibly under the weight of the grounds-keeper who sat down a bit faster due to exhaustion than he originally intended.
He offered a lemon drop to Hagrid, which the man promptly turned down, before continuing to the main point of the meeting. "I assume you didn't have any problems picking up the item." he continued.
Hagrid's hand went into one of his brown coats pockets and produced a small paper bag. "Yeah, here I have it."
The groundskeeper was just about to pull the stone from the bag when he stopped him. It wouldn't do to inform the groundskeeper that couldn't keep his mouth shut, that this stone was a fake. He had retrieved the actual stone earlier during the day but Hagrid was a distraction. Not that it had been needed, this time.
To give a reason to the other man, Dumbledore told him a fake reason. "Even at the places where we feel safe, we cannot be too careful."
He took the bag from Hagrid in his right hand. With the other hand, he opened his bottom right drawer. Moving some multicolored socks away, he made place for the stone. After placing the bag in the drawer he closed it. All this was done, while not revealing the content of the bag.
"It will be safe at Hogwarts." Hagrid said confidently. "If anyone can keep it safe, it is you."
"Thank you for going out of your way to retrieve it." He answered while really meaning it. It was sometimes difficult keeping dark wizards in the dark.
Then he continued his conversation with the rather large man "Did you run into any unusual situations during your trip? I heard there was quite some commotion around the Leaky Caldron this morning."
Hagrid looked around silently for a moment, as if looking for the correct words to express his thoughts. When his eyes revealed he had found a start, he answered the question "Not with the stone. But there were some problems with Harry."
The headmaster leaned a bit forward. He had thought that someone may have made attempts on getting the stone. He didn't expect any problems with the Boy-Who-Lived though. Harry was an important asset, both politically and for the prophecy. He was a key piece in many of his plans and any unplanned situation involving the boy could have great consequences. Many scenario's played in his head what could have gone wrong. He had to know what went wrong. In a lower and faster voice, he asked the next few questions. "You did help him with shopping? Did something go wrong at the shopping? Did he get all his school supplies? Is he alright?"
"The shopping went okay." the giant answered. "I had to drive a few fans away and some small problems at Ollivander's." he answered before continuing. "However, that is not what I was referring to."
"The Dursley's never informed him about Magic and how their parents died. They told them James and Lily died in a car crash." continued Hagrid in a trembled voice. Tears started forming in his eyes. The large man took a rater dirty handkerchief out of his pocket. He wiped his tears away and to blow his nose in a rather loud sound. Albus started walking over to his liquor cabinet, anticipating the need for some relief for his grounds-keeper.
"They call him either freak or boy." Hagrid continued with a sense of dread on his quite white face. "He is very small and much to skinny for my liking, so I doubt they are feeding him enough. I wouldn't be surprised if he is physically abused as well."
The headmaster understood that something was wrong. However, he had to do some damage control, no matter the problem he had to make sure that the boy continued going along the intended path. "Unfortunately, that house is the only place he would be safe. The blood wards are the strongest wards in existence. After all, they are powered by love, the strongest form of magic."
Hagrid visibly had some difficulty not raising his voice. "Love?" he almost shouted. "I don't think he is loved by that family. They hate and despite him."
Trying to calm the half-giant and reassuring himself, Albus started to explain. "I have monitored the wards myself. Without love towards harry, the wards would have collapsed a long time ago." the headmaster took a small breath before continuing his answer. "Therefore, they must love him. It may be hidden deep down, in such a way that they don't show it. But there must be love nonetheless."
Seeing that Hagrid was not really convinced, he continued "However, I will talk with Harry about it when he is at school. If it is as bad as you say, I can work out an alternative solution."
"That would be nice" Hagrid answered wiping tears away with his hand. "He was such a beautiful baby when we dropped him off. And I would have hate it if he …." Emotions seemed to have overtaken the man who could not finish his sentence. After a second, he unsuccessfully tried to start over "James and Lily's son …."
Albus was very good at reading people and he didn't fail this time. "Hagrid, do you want something to drink?" he asked.
"Do you have some Firewhiskey?" he finally asked.
The headmaster gave him a bottle and a mug. "Please continue your story when you're ready."
While most people would never use a mug in combination with Firewhiskey, the blood of the giants made it possible for Hagrid to tolerate much higher levels of Alcohol. He still became drunk but he wouldn't get a headacke.
That was also a reason that he even considered giving his old friend a mug. Hagrid obviously thought this was a good idea. He took the bottle and emptied it in the cup. Then he took the mug and brought it to his lips. After emptying it, much faster than would even be healthy for him, he seemed to somewhat calmed down.
With a bit of new courage Hagrid was to continue his story. "He doesn't seem to have a lot of magic."
This news could prove to be a bigger problem than any less than optimal family situation. A bad family relationship could be fixed. Even if the wards would fail, Harry could be moved to a different location. The absence of magic could not be fixed that easily.
Harry Potter was undoubtedly the boy of the prophecy. The prophecy hinted at some kind of incredible magic. Magic powerful to defeat Voldemort. If his magic was less than average that could very well become a problem. Although there were dark rituals that could increase the boy's power, that would defeat the purpose of his plan. After all the boy should become the new champion of the light. How could harry become that champion? It was a problem for which the headmaster didn't have the answer at hand.
He had to find out why the boy didn't seem to have magic. Maybe the boy was affected by the abuse in unusual ways. If that was the case, he had to be removed from the harmful environment. Still more research had to be taken before coming to such a decision.
"He cannot remember a single case of accidental magic." Hagrid explained. "In addition, the want he got at Ollivander didn't really react to his magic."
"What kind of wand?"
"10¾" vine wood, dragon heartstring"
That was at least a bit of relief. The wand woods weren't poor choices. Vine wood not the most common for wands, but the wielders often tried to proof themselves. Dragon heartstring were wands with slightly more power than most wands.
-= Albus Dumbledore =-
Within the hour, the headmaster with a long white beard was standing in front of the door on Privet Drive. The headmaster looked around, noticing that the garden was neatly trimmed and without much inspiration.
There were a few muggles in the street, all seemingly ignoring him. This wasn't surprising as if he was invisible. A well applied disillusionment charm could be very useful.
He silently approached number 4 and took a reading from the wards. They were reasonably strong. Not as strong as he might have hoped but it would still be sufficient to make sure the boy remained protected.
He drew his wand, pointing it to the front door.
"Alohomora" he whispered. As on command, the door opened seemingly on it's own.
Without making a sound he sneaked into the house. A well applied silencing silencing was very useful. Especially in combination with disillusion charm. Through the thoroughly cleaned hallway he walked to the half open living room door. He gently pushed against it, opening it further. This allowed him to enter the living room. with a gentle flick of his wand, he applied a notice me not charm at the same time as stepping inside.
In the living room, he saw four people eating a meal. The food consisted of mashed potatoes, some roasted beef and plenty of gravy. A small, untouched, bowl of salad sat in the corner of the table while one of them poured some more gravy over his meal. Vernon, Petunia, Dudley and Harry. The boy sat quietly on a corner of the table and seemed greatly appreciate, the in comparison, small amount of potatoes he had on his place. There were sufficient explanations. Maybe the boy was a picky eater or maybe he already ate most of it. Still, he would make a mental note of it.
He didn't seem to have the best clothing, but Albus has not kept up with muggle fashion. Since they started using tea in the process of making shirts he complete lost it.
He had to find out whether or not the boy was abused. The easiest way was by using mind reading. Even though it was marginally legal, it would be the best solution for this case.
Legilimency didn't work on muggles. The spell required a magical core in the target to connect to. As muggles lacked a magical core the spell could not be able to make a connection with it. On wizards or withes it could be used though. From the core, the spell could enter the target's mind and give the caster access to it's thoughts and memories.
Therefore only one person in this room could be used to give Albus the information he required. He had to cast legilimency on Harry Potter.
Ignoring the finer details of the law for the greater good, he put his wand in position. The spell to enter the boy's mind came easily.
As the spell connected, he felt the magical core. He ordered the magic to form a temporary connection. With this connection he could access Harry's core. From the core he start probing around to find the mind.
He pushed in a randomly chosen direction. It felt like he was pushing at thin air. He felt no resistance but also no mind.
It was not unusual to be required to poke around a couple of times before finding the mind. They tend to drift, so he poked a second time.
After the fifth attempt, Albus was starting to get a bit worried. In most cases, it was possible to find someone's mind in three tries. Five tries and not finding anything was unusual. However, at the sixth attempt he did collide with what must be Harry's subconscious.
Knowing the direction, he started trying to read the boy's memories. Soon he would know what was happening in this house.
At least that was the plan.
When he entered the boy's mind-scape, he saw a dark stone wall. It was at least 50 meters high and as long as the eye could reach. It was made of solid bricks without cracks. On the ground was a blackish liquid. It was sticky and it impacted his movement.
He wondered how a young child like Harry could already have a fully developed mindscape. Suddenly, he noticed an orange light from far. It seemed to grow and come closer. Recognizing it as fire, he tried to run away. Feeling the liquid on the ground being sticky, he couldn't move.
This was a trap.
He quickly channeled his magic through his legs to remove the liquid at his legs. This allowed him to come free and escape just in time.
When feeling the presence of the real world again, he lost his balance. As he tried not to fall over, he accidentally knocked over a vase.
The family looked up, surprised at the sudden sound. As Petunia came closer to investigate, the headmaster crawled away. Dumbledore promptly made his way outside of the wards and disapparated. He was wondering how it was that an eleven year old boy was so proficient at the mind arts.
One thing was for sure. Harry was magical.
-= Harry Potter, Thursday 15 August 1991, Evening =-
Harry was unaware that in the last few weeks his future headmaster visited his house more than once. Sometimes he had been doing a chore, but more often than not he could be found in his room reading his new books. This was mainly to study ahead for his school year. Although it hadn't started he wanted to be prepared. One time, he even looked straight through the old man disillusioned body, not that Harry would be able to notice that of course.
The old man at that time, had been a bit worried. He had been sure that Harry had been looking at him. In fact, he had wondered till three at night how the boy looked through his charms.
Although, Harry had been putting a lot of effort in his studies, he wasn't that knowledgeable. He even knew less than the average first year student at Hogwarts.
To remedy this, he had made an agreement with the Dursley's. He was allowed to read in the afternoon and evening if he did his chores in the morning. They didn't allow him to practice, but reading was tolerated as long as he didn't bother anyone and kept out of sight.
For Harry, this was very important. He didn't have any magical accidents as far as he could remember. To compensate for his apparent lack of magic he planned to spend a lot of time studying and make sure that he knew the theory.
Currently he was reading an interesting chapter about bezoars. They seemed quite useful, counteracting most simple poisons. He made a mental note buying one, the next time he would be in Diagon Alley. Briefly he wondered why something like that wouldn't be part of the standard school equipment. Given the large list of poisons he had seen in just the index of this single book alone, there must be a lot of accidents. He quickly concluded that carrying the bezoars was the task of the teachers.
Flipping the page he heard some kind of popping noise from outside. He sat up, not recognizing it and nobody else in the house seemed to react to it. He must have imagined it. A second pop, not much later, made him curious.
Walking over to the window he looked outside. In the neat garden he spent the entire morning trimming he saw an unusual sight. Two men wearing skull masks man were looking around the garden. One of them being slightly larger than the other. Their dark cloaks waved in the slight breeze as they examined the address. He could see that they carried wands in their hands.
It was a peculiar sight. Harry couldn't help to wonder what his uncle and aunt would say about such an abnormal sight. They would probably be afraid that the neighbors would see them. Quite likely, they would call the police not wanting to deal with something like this themselves.
A month ago, it would have been unbelievable for him. Now he thought these were some kind of wizards. They were the only people who he had ever seen wearing cloaks and wands. Although, he hadn't heard of wizards wearing skull masks before.
Unaware that the two people would quite well fit in the description of a Death Eater, Harry was not alarmed. Although Hagrid had told him about Voldemort, he didn't mention what their followers were called. Neither did he mention anything how they looked like.
As Harry was not informed well enough how dangerous these people could be, he was curious. What were the two wizards doing in their garden. He opened the window and asked in a quiet but polite voice "Hello there. What are you looking for?"
The larger man looked up and asked in a slightly sneering voice "Are you Harry Potter?"
Harry didn't know why the man sneered but dismissed it. He probably misjudged the situation anyway. It is not easy to spot emotions behind these masks. Not paying attention to the man's rude voice, Harry answered in a pleading voice "Yes, but can you speak a bit more quiet? I don't think uncle Vernon likes it if there are two wizards in his garden."
The two masked people looked at each other. They talked quietly with each other. Their voice was so low that harry couldn't hear a word they were saying, at least he didn't have to worry about anyone else hearing the two. Looking back at Harry, they appeared to have come to a conclusion.
"Ah, this mission will be easy." One on them said while drawing his wand. He pointed the wand at Harry and started an incantation. When seeing the wand being raised, the boy finally suspected he might be in trouble.
He didn't wait for the incantation to be finished. While hearing some sort of abracadabra, instinct took over.
A bolt of Green light shot towards him. He recognised it as some kind of attack and it was probably dangerous.
Making himself small and using the windowsill as cover, he ducked away. The spell hit the window that appeared to explode. Shards of glass rained over him. This was dangerous. He had to get away. He quickly crawled over the floor barefooted, cutting himself on some glass, which felt like nails piercing through his feet. But he had to keep moving, away from the danger, to the other side of the room.
Reaching the much safer place, he started thinking. The people would make it inside soon. He had to hide himself. Going over the possible places, he chose a spot and made his way towards it.
Making sure to move silently, he walked to his destination. He had a plenty of experience with moving silently. Sometimes he had to sneak to the fridge at night in order to make sure he had enough to eat.
Arriving at his hiding spot he quickly hid himself, lying there between some old pieces of cloth.
-= Death Eaters =-
Meanwhile the death eaters were in a discussion.
"You idiot" the smaller one said. "This could have been all over by now, but you couldn't even hit a 11 year old child."
"Shut up, I didn't miss, he dodged." the other death eater hissed. "We can easily kill him the next time. Why don't yourself useful for once and get the door open."
The smaller death eater started casting. He used some ward detection spells but no active wards lid up. There was an unknown, rather complex but unpowered ward, nothing that would stop them. He would have expected the most famous boy in the wizarding world to be a bit better protected than a single inactive ward in a muggle neighbourhood but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
A simple spell opened the front door, revealing a rather well kept corridor. They entered the building, dirtying the spotless floor with their muddy boots.
Behind them, they closed the door and sealed the door. The back-door got the same treatment, trapping the Dursley's and Harry inside the house. They would not let them be outsmarted by an eleven year old boy.
Since the boy was last seen upstairs, they ignored the ground floor for now. Walking upstairs, their heavy boots colliding with the stairs making a loud stomping noise.
As they got upstairs, they were aggressively greeted by a shouting large man, who more resembled a walrus. "Who are you, what are you doing here, don't tell me you are one of those freaks?"
How did this muggle dare to question them? Who is he calling people freaks? He should be punished. A cruciatus curse escaped the lips of the first death eater.
He laughed as he saw pain shooting through the muggles body. Knowing the spell felt like daggers pierced his body everywhere. The muggle, unable to use his limbs fell over. Pathetic. His muscles twitched from the stab wounds he must have felt.
The masked man picked up the twitching body and hissed in his ears. "That's for calling us, freaks you filthy muggle"
He ignored the tears from the walrus's face when he asked "Why are you here?"
The Death Eater looked at the man and wanted to break him "I come to kill Harry Potter. Tell me where he is."
He was disappointed when the walrus seemed to give up so soon when he answered. "Second room on the right".
He was being strangely helpful and he couldn't punish him for that. He would have hoped him to beg for the boys life or something just so he had an excuse to torture the fat muggle some more, but he just gave him up, like he didn't want to have him in the first place.
The man begged again. "Please, leave us alone" he begged "We never wanted that freak here".
That was a good one. Most families in the wizarding world would give a lot for the chance to raise that boy. But the one place that did raise him was the one place that didn't want him. The irony was not missed to the Death Eater.
Still, the muggle man had to be punished. "We do not grant requests." he responded to the crying man. "CRUCIO"
He saw that the man was in pain again. New daggers seem to stab him at new points. He laughed, knowing that the pain would seem like an eternity until it would lessen.
Moonlight shone through the broken window revealing a small bedroom. The shards of glass reflected some of the light, giving the whole room a spooky appearance. There was a sagging bed and some broken toys in the corner, a few drawers with a damaged handle and a visibly worn wardrobe that was a little bit open.
In bed lay a potions book which looked like one of the only new things in the room.
"Come out, wherever you are" the first death eater said "and we will make it quick and painless."
There was no response.
"Ah, you want to play the hard way" the death eater said, grinning. It was really an enjoyable evening.
He and his friend started to search systematically. They examined corner by corner, starting with the bed. He wasn't under the bed. After that, one of them arrived at the wardrobe. It such as obvious hiding spot that he silently laughed at the foolish attempt of hiding the boy was making.
When he opened the door, he opened the creaking doors shouting "Gotcha".
Light fell in the wooden cabinet. It revealed a few old jackets and pants hanging down next to a pair of new, unworn, Hogwarts uniforms. A quick glance showed them there was no boy in here.
-= Harry Potter =-
"Gotcha" Harry heard someone shouting from the floor below him. It was followed with a less loud swear. "Damn, I could have sworn he would have hidden himself there."
Harry felt lucky that the masked people hadn't discovered he sneaked up to the attic while they are getting into the house. In the attic he found an old clothing basket where hid himself in.
He had listened to the voices from the floor below and was now sure they wanted to kill him.
His heart was beating like crazy until he heard one of the masked men say "Come over here. I found a blood trail I think."
After hearing that he became so terrified that he could swear his heart skipped a beat or two.
"Blood trail?" he asked to himself. "What kind of blood trail?" Oh no, the glass from the window. If he cut himself there, it may have left a trail. If that's the case, the trail would likely lead directly to him.
He could try to move somewhere else. But, the blood trail would just give him away again. And there was still the chance he would not be found in his current hiding spot.
Unable to find something better, he prayed that the inevitable discovery would not happen. Harry wasn't really religious but when confronted with a situation of certain death, most people started to pray.
He listened to the sound of two pairs of boots walking up the stairs. The creaking of the old door as it opened and closed.
"Harry" one of the men whispered "where are you?". He could hear they were close. Maybe a meter or so away.
"Bombardo" the other shouted. He heard an explosion. Wood got splintered. Metal fell on the floor. Porcelain shattered. It must be a mess outside.
"Bombardo" he shouted again. The sound of a second explosion attacked his hears. He heard more metal falling.
"Bombardo" was shouted for a third time. The cloth basket was hit. Shards of wood flew beside his face. A heat wave went over him.
The light blinded him for a moment but when he could see again, he saw the two men looking at him.
"Looks like you lost your game of hide and seek, Potter." he said while raising his wand.
"It is time for you to die" the other said, smiling.
He would know, even before the incantation was done, that he would not be able to dodge the green light. There was nothing he could do.
How will Harry survive this? Think about it for a minute before clicking 'next'. A hint can be found in 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets' by J. K. Roling.
For those who noticed that I messed up between the names Dudley and Dursley, thanks for pointing it out. It has been corrected.