Harry thought back over the past couple of weeks and realized he hadn’t suffered a single headache.
His scar hadn’t so much as twinged.
“No, nothing at all,” he answered.
“My scar hasn’t hurt once.”
“I see,” Dumbledore murmured, his gaze drifting to the famous lightning bolt hidden beneath Harry’s fringe.
“May I run a few diagnostic scans? Nothing invasive, I promise.”
Harry shrugged his consent.
Dumbledore began casting a series of spells, repeating several of them multiple times to confirm his readings.
After a moment, he looked up.
“Would you mind speaking to a snake if I summon one?”
“If it will help,” Harry replied, puzzled.
Dumbledore conjured a small serpent.
Harry exchanged a brief, hissing conversation with it—the same way he had done with other snakes in the past.
“Hmm,” Dumbledore mused as he vanished the creature.
“I’d like to try one more spell, though it may feel somewhat uncomfortable.”
“If it helps with the wand, go ahead,” Harry sighed.
Dumbledore nodded and began chanting in an ancient, unfamiliar tongue, waving his wand in intricate patterns above Harry’s head.
Harry felt a sudden, intense pressure as though his brain was swelling inside his skull.
He clenched his teeth against the discomfort.
Dumbledore lowered his wand, eyes bright with excitement and twinkling madly.
“So?” Harry asked impatiently.
“Something I will need to think about,” the Headmaster replied, barely containing his enthusiasm.
“Nothing for you to worry about, my boy.”
“Do I need a new wand, then?” Harry pressed, irritation creeping into his voice.
“I believe so,” Dumbledore confirmed.
“I will collect you in a couple of weeks and we’ll visit Ollivander’s together.” He paused.
“May I see your scar for a moment?”
Harry sighed but lifted his fringe.
Dumbledore’s eyes widened.
“Inconceivable…”
“What is?” Harry asked, growing tired of the cryptic answers.
“Your scar… it is almost gone,” Dumbledore said, a smile spreading across his face.
“What does that mean?”
“I will explain everything once I fully understand it myself,” the old wizard promised sincerely.
“For now, think on what we discussed earlier.”
“I will,” Harry conceded.
“Good boy.” With that, Dumbledore left the room.
Harry dragged a hand through his hair and waited until he heard the front door close before stepping back into the hallway.
“You’re not leaving, then?” Petunia asked, unable to hide the hope in her voice.
“No, Aunt Petunia,” Harry replied.
“How about we make a deal? We stay out of each other’s way. I’ll make sure all the chores are done. I only need the bathroom, and I’ll provide my own food.” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Vernon grunted.
“Fine. As long as you stay away from us.”
“Works for me,” Harry shrugged.
The following days at Privet Drive fell into a strict routine.
Harry woke early, studied and practiced wand movements for as long as possible, confident he would be able to perform the spells properly once he had a new wand.
He enlisted Dobby and Winky to handle the household chores, knowing his own work was far more important.
The elves were only too happy to help, and Winky made sure he received several hearty meals a day—something Harry appreciated, as his appetite had grown considerably.
Aside from the complete lack of contact from the wizarding world, one thing began to bother him: he had far more pent-up energy than ever before.
He initially blamed it on eating more, but soon wondered if it had something to do with whatever Dumbledore had detected.
To burn off the excess energy, he started exercising every morning.
The benefits were immediate—he could focus on his studies without restlessness.
Push-ups, sit-ups, and occasional jogs around the neighborhood became part of his daily regimen, always with an invisible Order member trailing behind him.
He had been back at Privet Drive for nearly two weeks when, late one night, he sat at his desk finishing the last page of a book.
His alarm clock beeped, signaling midnight.
He stretched, preparing for the four hours of sleep he had grown accustomed to.
It wasn’t by choice, but he found he woke surprisingly well-rested regardless.
He had just returned the book to its trunk when two near-silent pops sounded behind him.
Harry spun, wand already in hand—but he wasn’t fast enough.
He caught a fleeting glimpse of two figures in dark robes before a jet of red light struck him squarely in the chest.
The world went black.