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Élan Vital's Departure (remake)
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Bringer of Life

Gender: Male
Location: The Land of Quar

Élan Vital's Departure (remake)

Chapter One
Journey to the Burrow

Seventeen year old Harry Potter of Number Four, Privet Drive sat on the stairs in front of a house that had a well kept garden. Any time now, he would be leaving his aunt, uncle, and cousin. He felt a small sense of happiness at that thought. No one would ever confine him like the Dursley's did. The moment Mr. Weasley arrived, Harry would be a free man. If Harry had the choice he wouldn't be sitting on the stairs on such a hot, blistering day waiting for his best mate's dad to pick him up. Oh no, he would be elsewhere, off with his friends on some wild adventure. He made a promise to the old headmaster that he would return to the Dursley's one last time and he kept that vow.

Aunt Petunia kept looking out the window every five or so minutes, partially to glare at him and to some extent to see if he left yet. Harry sighed as knowing well as she as she did that Arthur was late. He honestly assumed that he would be tardy. Also, there was the matter of how he was going to arriving. Back in his fourth year, Ron, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley came from through the Dursley's fire place. Would he come like a normal person? No, Harry doubted that since he didn't have the Ford Angelina anymore. Most likely, Harry thought, the wizard would Apparate, something Harry could not do quite yet.

Every once in a while, Harry thought he heard a faint popping sound; he kept glancing around to see if it was Mr. Weasley. No such luck. He resumed sitting on the stairs, looking around blankly. His wand held firmly in his hand. Ever since the incident at Hogwarts, Harry went everywhere with his wand. He even kept it to protect the Dursleys, in case they were attacked while he was there. When he was younger, he mused to himself about what it would be like if something horrible were to happen to Vernon, Petunia and Dudley. Now, ever since he lost those that were dear to him, Harry knew that he could not wish ill on them. No matter how badly they treated him, they were still family; they were his mother's family.

At the same time, he felt a great sense of sorrow about leaving Number Four, Privet Drive. He did spend most of his life at the residence of the Dursley's despite the fact that he wasn't considered part of their family. No matter how much they hated him, they always made sure that he didn’t starve, as little food as it may be, had clothes on his back, as big and baggy as they were, and a roof over his head, even he lived under the stairs for quite some time. They even allowed him to go where he wanted, as long as he returned before Dudley.

Harry truly felt a sense of appreciation toward them. He got everything Dumbledore hoped for. Food to eat, a roof over his head, and clothes to wear. Who else really would have taken care of a baby who bore a lighting bolt shaped scar? He was lucky that the Dursley's did. Now, they hardly went near him for how he treated them. A pang of guilt flowed through him, knowing that he meant no harm toward them.

Around one o’clock, (he had to go inside to check the clock because his watch died back in fourth year) Arthur Weasley finally arrived. He Apparated like Harry expected. From taking a quick glance, he could tell that Mr. Weasley was distraught. Harry felt that a switch of career was responsible for this, since he had different hours than before. It offered better pay, and Harry thought that he liked the new job. He anticipated that we would wear his wizarding robes, but he instead was dressed in Muggle clothing.

“Harry, how are you?”

“I'm fine, thanks, how are you?”

“Do you have time to show me some of the Muggle's electical stuff?”

“Erm, I should probably get my stuff from upstairs and let my aunt and uncle know I'm leaving,” Harry said, taking the opportunity to take one final look at the inside of the Dursley's house.

“You leaving, boy?” asked Uncle Vernon, who hadn't changed much at all. He still had very little neck and his face turned a shade of violet whenever he got angry. “Dudley, hit him with your Smelting's stick one last time.”

Dudley did not stir from his place. He looked fearfully at Harry as if he were going to take his wand out and jinx him. Aunt Petunia wasn't in the living room like the other two were. He presumed that she was busy in the kitchen looking out the window to see whatever what's-her-face-next- door happened to be doing. It felt awkward to say goodbye, at last. Of all the Dursley's, he honestly had to say his aunt happened to be the nicest. He wasn't sure if it was because her sister was his mother, or maybe because she felt for him for losing everyone in his life. Harry still felt curious about why she'd been in contact with Dumbledore all along and he never knew about it; he wondered if Uncle Vernon knew.

“Well, goodbye,” Harry said as he entered the kitchen.

As he thought, Aunt Petunia's eyes glared at the next door neighbor's house. At first, she didn't seem to notice that Harry was standing there, in Dudley's clothing, in her kitchen saying farewell. He never imagined himself saying goodbye to the Dursley's. Whenever he dreamt about leaving the hell hole that he called home, he imagined doing so in a grand manner. Thinking back to his second year, he remembered how Fred, George, and Ron came to rescue him in the flying Ford Angelina. He remembered his uncle trying to stop him only to fail. That was a grand escape from Privet Drive.

“Good bye, Harry,” Aunt Petunia said in an unusual tone of voice. It was rather soft, not snappish like it usually was.

That didn't strike him as the oddest part of the whole affair. Petunia walked up to him and gave him a hug. Throughout his life, she never showed any compassion. This was so...he couldn't even believe he was thinking this...this was so...unDursleyish of her. Not once in his life at Privet Drive had she ever hugged him. What made her do such a thing now? He returned it, not sure of what else to do. Harry nodded to her after a few seconds and ran up to what was once his room.

Looking at the room, he could not seem to recognize it anymore. It no longer seemed like his room with everything that belonged to him packed away in his trunk. He put everything neatly away the moment he got home for Hogwarts. He sighed, knowing that things were about to change drastically. He was a free man. Off to be with the Weasley's for the summer as usual. After that, he would move to Grimmauld Place, where used to live. That would be his home, the Order of the Phoenix worked so hard to make it a suitable place to live in as well as a headquarters. He knew that it would serve him well to live there. The only problem happened lied in two things. One being Bellatrix, Sirrus' murderer and his cousin. Next Kreacher, who betrayed them while he had served another as well as .

It did not occur to him how much trouble it would be to try to bring the luggage down. A tiny bit of magic wouldn't hurt, he reckoned. Plus, he was seventeen and of age already, and was allowed to use magic. It wasn't like the Dursley's were upstairs in his room either. What harm could it really do? He could easily just shrink his belongings to a small, decent size and reverse the spell when he arrived at the Burrow. So, making the final thought, he cast the spell and watched everything he possessed shrink down in size. Luckily for him, the trunk was small enough to put it in his pocket of his Muggle jeans.

A few minutes later, Harry met up with Mr. Weasley who busied himself looking at a street light. To get his attention, he had to tap on his shoulder, since calling out his name did nothing. Turning around, Arthur saw Harry and beamed with delight.

“Harry, you all set to go? Said by to your aunt and uncle? Very good. For security reasons, we need to catch a train to London, which leaves in forty-five minutes. No way we can catch that in time without the use of magic.”

“Why don't you Apparate both of us there?”

Arthur's face turned as red as his hair from embarrassment. “I can only go so far with someone else. I calculated that we should be able to get to the train station and catch the train to London. From there, we will have a car waiting for us, provided by the Ministry once again. And from there, we will relocate in a small, Muggle town and catch the Knight Bus there.”

Pretending to understand the plan, Harry nodded. Though deep down, he could not make sense of it. Why were they going through so much trouble to see him to the Burrow? Did something have to do with him again? Or were they not going to the Burrow after all? What if they were going to the Order's new headquarters? He shifted towards Privet Drive one last time, facing his aunt and uncle's well kept lawn, and then the house. He could swear that Aunt Petunia was looking outside from an upstairs window at him and Mr. Weasley. He knew immediately where Uncle Vernon and Dudley were, watching TV as usual, as if Harry were never there to begin with. For some reason, he felt that his aunt really did understood him more than his uncle and cousin.

“Hang on to me now. Ready? One...two...three...”



Old Post Mar 28th, 2007 11:11 PM
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Bringer of Life

Gender: Male
Location: The Land of Quar

Harry shut his eyes tightly remembering the last time he Apparated with Dumbledore. At least it's better than Floo Powder, he thought to himself. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that they were in the mix of the crowd at King's Cross. Following Mr. Weasley, they bought their tickets, with Harry’s help; he needed to show Mr. Weasley which bills to use. In his first year, he had to help Rubeus Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts with the task.

As the time flew by, Harry and Mr. Weasley prepared themselves to board their train to London. They managed to get a seat to themselves. Arthur pulled out The Daily Prophet, while Harry rested his head against the window allowing his mind to wander slightly.


Harry remembered a few months back when he was imprisoned under one of Dumbledore's spells. Dumbledore’s pleading repeated constantly in his head like a broken record player. He never felt so helpless in his life. If Harry had been able to survive a confrontation with the Dark Lord, he was positive he was more than capable of handling a few Death Eaters, but Dumbledore stopped him with that spell.


Never during his time at being at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had he heard the beloved wizard plead with someone before. It's been said that only one person brought fear to Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore himself. So why was Dumbledore begging Severus Snape, a Death Eater? It didn't make sense to him at all. There was more to it than that. Could it have been the liquid he drank back in the cave? He was weakened from doing that. The Horcrux happened to be a fake and Dumbledore didn't know that. Where else would he look for that one Horcrux? The only thing he could think of was the R.A.B.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Snape's voice reverberated in his mind. Harry should have made an attempt to save Dumbledore before anything got that far. His scar seared, but he learned to ignore the pain by then. His eyes remained closed tightly as he fought the hot tears from coming. He continued to face the window and not at Mr. Weasley. He felt too ashamed to allow him to see the state he was in.

“Harry, we're here,” Arthur said gently.

Harry’s mind snapped back to reality. Looking around, he saw people exiting the train that arrived in London. Obediently, without question, he followed Mr. Weasley off the train. They hadn't walk too far when he spotted the ever so familiar Ministry car. Arthur climbed into the front and he, Harry, went into the back seat. The ride didn't last too long, or so it seemed to Harry, when they left the drive. Looking at the small village, he couldn't figure out where they were. Mr. Weasley allowed them some time to get a quick bite to eat in which Harry (once again) helped him handle the bills. Twice, he had to stop him from playing with the light switch.

Soon after, Arthur flagged down the Knight Bus. He and Harry found their own seat once again. No one was within earshot. It didn't seem to matter, since neither of them talked. Few stops went by, where an elderly witch, a toothless man, and one who smelled strongly of stale cigarettes exited.

“The Burrow,” shouted the person who took Stan's place. It didn't really feel the same without him, since the former conductor now was in Azkaban.

“Come on, Harry. Everyone will want to see you.”

He smiled at the thought. This time, he did not follow Mr. Weasley, but broke into a run. Harry froze in midstep, wondering what it would be like between he and Ginny. It never occurred to him before. He felt that she probably hated him. She had every reason to. Taking a deep breath he walked into the Burrow at last, happy to be at a place he could actually call home.


Old Post Mar 28th, 2007 11:14 PM
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Maybe someday...

Gender: Male
Location: Inside of your earhole :S

YEAH i loved this story first time!!

Old Post Apr 1st, 2007 07:04 PM
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Bringer of Life

Gender: Male
Location: The Land of Quar

hehe thanks big grin


Old Post Apr 3rd, 2007 12:47 AM
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