LANDSLIDE, james potter [2]

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Harry Potter had been waiting for somebody, anybody, to come rescue him from Privet Drive, where he had been living with his aunt, uncle and cousin for as long as he could remember. He wanted to know what was going on in the world, barely gotten any information. He had been left on his own, grieving his Godfather alone. He just wanted to be with someone who understand or even cared about what he had lost.

Then Professor Dumbledore had arrived at his house and decided to whisk him away to some secret little mission that Harry knew nothing about. He had just been clutching onto his Headmaster's arm as he apparated them to an unknown location. 

Harry could feel a strange sensation in his ears, as he wasn't very used to apparating. This was his first time after all. Dumbledore looked down at him in concern. "Are you all right? The sensation does take some getting used to."

"I'm fine," the Potter boy assured him, but still rubbing his ears as he studied the quiet neighborhood he now found himself in. It seemed like a muggle neighborhood. "But I think I might prefer brooms..."

 Dumbledore smiled. He glanced around, looking for the way to go. It was a rather new area for him too, but he had figured out where he was supposed to go. He tightened his cloak around his neck for warmth, though it was rather warm that summer.

"This way." The Headmaster hadn't waited for Harry as he started walking briskly past several houses and lights. Harry followed as quickly as he could. "So, tell me, Harry, your scar... Has it been hurting at all?"

The young boy raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing the lightning-shaped scar situated there. He hadn't felt anything there in so long he had almost forgotten it was there. "No, and I've been wondering about that. I thought it would be burning all the time now Voldemort's getting powerful again."

"I, on the other hand, thought otherwise," Dumbledore disagreed. "Lord Voldemort has finally realized the dangerous access to his thoughts and feelings you have been enjoying. It appears he is now employing Occlumency against you."

"Well, I'm not complaining," Harry muttered. He didn't mind getting rid of the pains, cold sweats and horrible nightmares he had been suffering from the past year. He looked around them as they passed yet another corner, feeling curious. "Professor?"

"Harry?" said Dumbledore cheerfully. 

"Er, where exactly are we?" the Boy Who Lived asked, mostly just hoping that he was still in England, Britain at the very least. 

"This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton," his Headmaster informed him, prononcing the name effortlessly as Harry imagined what a tongue twister that could be. He could see the Weasley twins making a bet on whether he would be able to say it ten times fast. 

"And what are we doing here?"

"Ah, yes, of course, I haven't told you," Dumbledore suddenly remembered. "Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."

Harry found it rather odd how he had employed one of his students to help him recruit an old teacher. Wouldn't another teacher be better for the job? "How can I help with that, sir?"

"Oh, I think we'll find a use for you." Dumbledore didn't elaborate upon his vague words, which only made Harry even more confused. "Left here, Harry."

Harry couldn't help but notice how incredibly dark the street was, as if it was removed of all life. The dreary air reminded him of the dementors, making him clutch his wand in his pocket. "Professor, why couldn't we just apparate directly into your old colleague's house?"