Summary: Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts is filled with taunting dreams and dark secrets. Sirius' death fresh in his mind and bleeding in his heart, he finds his body taking the abuse for his pain as he blames himself. Harry Potter has fallen on hard times and this time he is not able to stand back up on his own, doesn't have the strength to stand back up on his own. How will he ever find his strength again to continue to battle against Voldemort whose power is growing at a rapid rate? Plus who is this new transfer student in Slytherin house that is following Harry around? A beautiful new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has also come to Hogwarts, but the question remains will she make it through the year or does this teacher have a secret agenda like all the others. Is Harry going to have to fight for his life as well as his friend's lives yet again this year with his will teetering over the edge about to fall? Find out in the story Longing to be Found.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, ideas, or location's, found in the Harry Potter universe, it is property of J. K. Rowling , and found in movies produced by Warner Bros. The storyline concept for this particular fanfiction was created in the recesses of the twisted mind of this writer and no profit is being made from this story, it's just for a bit of fun. I do however own the two OC's (original characters) in this story so please do not copy them.
Warnings: DARK! Contains mature content and adult themes not suitable for young children. Slash (male/male relationships beyond friendship; also known as yaoi), non-con (rape), strong language, PWP at times, self-mutilation, self-gratification (masturbation), OOC-ness, AU…
…YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!...
Rated:M/NC-17
Drama/Angst
Longing to be Found…
By: TwilightKitsune1
Chapter One (1)
- Losing Self –
The days seemed to rush past this summer at number four, Privet Drive and the daily routines of life there were a constant reminder of how alone one truly was. After the summer school would begin, but not many looked forward to it… There was one person in particular who wasn't looking forward too much of anything anymore.
The sun was beginning to set; its rays seemed to give one last valiant effort to burn in the sky giving off the same color of fresh blood, its the light already fading away behind the distant tree line. The sky that earlier seemed so bright was becoming darkened by the oncoming night. Stars were already coming out to hang high in the night sky with the moon that had yet to appear over the horizon. There was a beautiful flickering of the lightning bugs that seemed to dance now as the sun faded. Dull lights in the distance, street lamps most likely, sprang to life to give some light to the oncoming night. It was the normal silence on Magnolia people came to expect. A silent melody of crickets, or the occasional croak from a frog, and maybe a gentle mew in the distance from a stray cat or loud yelp from a dog sounded in their nightly symphony. A soft, not over powering, smell of freshly cut grass drifted in the air, it was hardly noticeable to the nose but still gave the sense of summer.
Harry Potter, the most famous wizard of the age, sat in a secluded part of a park on an old rusted swing that had yet to be torn down and replaced. He sat with his head leaned to a rough rusting metal chain link that left flaks on both his face and shirt, but he paid it no mind. One of his hands lightly grasped the tarnished chain his head rested on as the other hung limp by his side. There wasn't much in the surrounding area nor was this a spacious place. It was just a forgotten place in part of the new park.
It was off out of the way where one could sit and be alone, but due to the surrounding homes in the area not much of anything "delinquent" could be done here so many parents paid it no mind. There were trees here and the grass seemed like it was cut, but not often enough to make it clear, just enough so people wouldn't have brush growing past their knees. Old toys destroyed by nature and age littered the ground, forgotten. Shoes with the laces tied together hung from a few of the old trees around the area, as though to mark those who had been here, those who had gone. Harry had always loved this place when he found it, when he had only been six years old. He could get away from the Dursley's here. He could be alone here, he could have his thoughts here. He could have grand adventures and not be trapped in a small closet that made him feel so much like a prisoner… He hated that feeling, knew in the end he was a prisoner. It was that thought that he'd never be free of them that drove him to find a sanctuary that had nothing to do with them. If he was a prisoner they had control, he could do nothing but suffer, take his punishment quietly and with no complaints. Or worse would come…
His eyes had glazed and became unfocused as he looked into the distance. He could feel eyes prying into his back; he could feel them as if he saw them. He knew someone was watching him but at the moment all worry, all caution, and all fear was completely out of his mind. He ignored his senses screaming at him that there was someone watching him and that his guard needed to be back up. He ignored his base instincts and became lost in his mind.
He didn't see the oncoming night, the stars that hung in the sky waiting, the dancing of the beautiful lightning bugs, nor did he see the dull street lamps that had sprung to life. No what he saw were the flashes of the curses and the hexes that were used in the Ministry as they flew all around him. He heard no gentle melody from crickets as they played their nightly lullaby, the occasional croak from the frogs had gone silent, even the gentle mews from the cats and those loud yelps from the dogs had turned silent as though drowned out. No all he heard were the screams of those who had fought around him in that place, their spells and hexes that were uttered. He just watched now, listening to it all again, with Neville Longbottom by his side. He watched and he listened and he saw Dumbledore arrive to help push Voldemort's forces back… As it got darker, the darker Harry's memories became, and soon all that filled his mind was his late Godfather.
Harry remembered Sirius' joy at finally getting out of that place that had been his prison growing up, and then it had been again when he should have been free. Harry could see how Sirius came to life feeling as though he was finally being allowed a good fight after all his suffering. He seemed so young, years falling off his face as the fighting went on… Then, strangely, there was shock and there was fear. He was falling… Falling away from Harry, far away from Harry to a place he wouldn't be able to follow.
A veil appeared center stage in Harry's mind, flapping in a non-existent wind, engulfing Sirius behind it. Swallowing him whole and not giving him back…Harry stared at the veil for a long while, it was Lupin that pulled him from his trance, explained the truth to Harry. Sirius was dead… He was dead and it was Bellatrix's fault! Harry was furious. Anger filling his whole being, and in a blind fit of rage all he craved was revenge… He craved the satisfaction of killing her with his own hands, with his own power. No one else could do it; no one else was allowed to do it, to have that satisfaction… His anger stopped and turned to self-hatred. It wasn't her fault, or anyone else's… It was his…Sirius was dead because of Harry in the end. Yet for the time being Harry was chasing that wench. He could blame her, hate her, kill her. Just for that instant Harry was willing to kill an innocent just to give himself peace… and for some odd reason he didn't care to murder those who were innocent yet evil.
Harry was brought out of his thoughts, out of his memories, when the once vacant swing beside him became occupied. It groaned and creaked under the new weight. His eyes instantly refocused, his head turning to the new comer and his once limp hand jumping to life and rushing toward his wand. His movements froze for in an instant as he looked at a tired looking Mrs. Figg sitting beside him.
"Mrs. Figg…What are you doing here?" Harry asked, forcing a smile on his face, his hand inching ever closer to his wand just in case it was a trick like it had been with Moody during his fourth year. Thinking of that year brought an amount of pain and guilt to him. His fault.
"The real question Harry is, what are you doing here? It is late you should be getting home. Nearly ten already and your still out acting like a hooligan I bet." Mrs. Figg complained. "Here I am walking back from the store with some new cat food for my babies and then I look into the park and find you sitting in it not doing anything but staring into space. You are a lazy boy aren't you, need to learn responsibility."
Harry cringed. Mrs. Figg was reminding him of – "WHAT TIME IS IT?"
"Nearly ten's what I said. You also need to be learning how to listen too. Your elders boy, listen to them when they're speaking to you." Mrs. Figg stared at his frightened face for a moment before she shook her head, "I'll take you home with me, speak to those Dursley's tomorrow for you if you want… Maybe we could talk tonight Harry, about things… I can tell you all about my babies that just had babies themselves." She smiled for a moment. "Besides, you've been stuck in that house for most of the summer so far. You don't even come over to help me anymore…" Mrs. Figg looked sad for a moment then her stern look came back to her face as though it had never left so Harry chalked it up to his imagination.
Harry sighed. She was the first person to even want to talk about things all summer long… No one else cared, and his uncle knew Sirius was gone and his punishment, his suffering, had returned. Maybe she could tell someone from the order, maybe they could relay the message of 'help me' to Dumbledore.
As he was about to say something, for only an instant he saw them in his mind, an image of Cedric and Sirius smiling at him as they had when they had been alive, and all intentions of asking for help disappeared and were replaced by the fact that they had died because of him. They were no longer alive because they became involved with him, close to him. All he could do for them in the was just watch as they fell and he could do nothing but cause their pain, their families pain, their deaths. He was alone because he acted without thinking first.
He deserved everything he was getting, and more than this some days. He deserved, he wished to trade places with them… But so many people would stand and say he was being an idiot or foolish because he had to fight Voldemort… Has to fight.
Another sigh escaped his hold, this one a sigh of pain and sorrow, but Mrs. Figg didn't notice it as she just looked at Harry patently waiting. "No…I'm fine. You guys shouldn't worry about me you might get grey hairs if you're not careful." Harry said forcing a smirk to Mrs. Figg's face.
An actual chuckle escaped her lips and she looked at Harry, her eyes glimmered with a small sparkle of joy. "I was worried about you Harry, you haven't smiled all summer and we were beginning to worry about you… Besides grey hairs are the least of my worries right now."
Harry stood from the swing and looked at Mrs. Figg for a moment. She did seem to be getting older. She was much older than his young eyes remember her, the crazy cat lady who would take care of him while he was little. Though she always seemed old to him, those wrinkles were a little more defined, and the idea of her being able to live the rest of her old life out where there is no Voldemort and no reason to hide from the night, made him wonder.
"Thanks Mrs. Figg." Was all that he said as he made his way back to number four, Privet Drive. On his way out of the park, taking the short cut into the ally, he didn't seem to notice that his path was close to pitch black and hard to see down as the street lamp had blown a few days ago, but he knew the quick ways back to number four, Privet Drive by heart. Learned them out of fear. He also failed to notice that Mrs. Figg stayed seated on the old rusting swing, silently moving back and forth as she watched him disappear into the night.
XxXxX—XxXxX—XxXxX
As Harry reached the door he began to reconsider Mrs. Figg's offer. Shaking his head to steel his determination he moved to the door when he saw the faint glow from the kitchen. Thinking it may be Aunt Petunia since she often came into the kitchen in the middle of the night just to see if there was anything suspicious going on next door, anything she could possibly gossip about really, he silently made his way towards the kitchen hoping he'd just get an earful but still be allowed inside. If he went back there and it was her she'd let him in after a long debate on if he'd do better outside or in. she'd wear an angry look and just tell Uncle Vernon tomorrow before he went to work… but if it was Dudley it might be trickier. As Harry reached the door he gave three soft knocks so not to draw outside attention to himself knowing his Aunt would never come if he dared to knock loud enough for people to hear.
He glanced around him to make sure no one was around, that no one had followed him here. It was completely dark now and the only light that was now cast came from the dull street lamps that stood tall and silent in the distance. There was no movement from any of the other houses and most bore no light except for what looked to be a TV down the road behind a shift of lacy curtain. Other than that there was nothing visible except for shadows and outlines of some unknown forms, tricks of the eyes really that always seemed to happen on nights when the moon seemed to stay hidden. As the footsteps came closer to the door Harry looked forward and his heart gave a frantic jerk. It was neither Aunt Petunia nor Dudley, it was the one Harry had hoped wouldn't catch him out so late as everyone else lay sleeping. Fear gripped him and stole his strength as the door inched open, only enough for him to see eyes look around outside and scan the area before they landed on Harry. As they did the eyes stopped and seemed to become evil with depths that took every ounce of power from Harry in just that single look. No longer were they curious as to what was outside. Harry's breath left him as he felt himself being pulled into the kitchen in a rough uncaring manner.
The world around him was nothing more than a blur and he could no longer feel a thing, as though in that instant the fear had made him numb. Suddenly reality hit, as well as the counter corner as it unforgivingly found the mid-section of his back. Then Harry remembered, Vernon had been the one in the empty kitchen, he had been the one looking down at Harry with eyes that had made his blood go cold, and he had grabbed Harry and thrown him into the nightmare that would be in this kitchen tonight.
Harry's body was shacking from the abuse it had just received and as he began to rise off the tiled floor a foot connected with his elbow and pushed it into the wrong direction. That action was quickly followed by the sound of a sickening snapping popping noise that filled Harry's ears; the pain exploded as his elbow stopped popping. Harry dropped back down to the floor and clung to his injured limb, cradled it against his chest. Tears began to prickle behind his eyes but quickly he pushed them away. He would not cry about this, would not give Vermon the satisfaction of seeing him cry about the sold kick. As Harry was about to try to get up again the foot came back and made another solid connection to his chest. Then his ribs. His stomach. His legs. Harry was bombarded with blow after blow. Anywhere that was able to be stuck was struck so long as that place could be hidden away under clothes.
After sometime Vernon began to start breathing heavily and Harry just stayed still where he was on the floor, no longer trying to move or avoid the blows. 'Just lay here, don't move, don't breath, it'll stop soon…' Harry repeated to himself as he listened to Vernon's labored breathing. 'Soon it'll end, soon he'll stop.' Harry hoped, 'He'll start to get tiered, won't do anything that makes him seem "unusual" or a "freak" if the others are still here. Only a beating and then he'll leave. If I don't move, don't breath, then there isn't any pain.' Harry was close to unconsciousness so close to it that it seemed like a blessing. Harry could feel the sweet oblivion coming until he was suddenly gasping. He felt the icy chill of the water as it covered him, stealing his breath from his body and locking his lungs for a moment making it near impossible to breathe for a few seconds and the sweet promise of unconsciousness was erased as Harry fought for air to reenter his lungs after the sudden shock to his system.
Vernon wasn't going to lose Harry to fainting so easily tonight, no the night had only just started after all. He gripped Harry's hair tight in his fist and in one swift jerk he pulled it so hard Harry could have sworn he'd have ripped the hair in his hold out had Harry not gone up anticipating the sudden jerk of his head. Harry's body was protesting every movement, every breath that came and went, and now as the cold water collected over his wounds, with every slight breeze and movement there was pain. As though thousands of needles pressing into his skin. Harry listened as the water and blood now dripped on the floor collecting together and faintly he wondered if it was more of a mess due to the water that had been so carelessly tossed or would Harry have still bleed everywhere had there not been water for his blood to pool at it.
His body was battered and his mind was screaming in its daze. It was coming, the pain, the humiliation, everything he hated that Uncle Vernon pushed on him because he didn't want it was coming. It was coming and the worst part was there was nothing he could do about it.
Harry was shoved up against the wall and Vernon leaned in close to Harry's ear and whispered, "You know what's coming right?" Harry could smell a horrid stench on his breath, so foul and disgusting and laced with a strong scent of alcohol. It was like nothing he'd ever smelled before, just that smell made him want to retch. As Harry was fighting with his stomach and how it so desperately wanted to release its contents he felt his wand removed from his pocket and heard it fall away to the ground. The tears that had threatened earlier and were fought back now returned to form in his eyes, one escaping Harry's hold. Harry couldn't hold back his body's desire to tremble from the pain, the hatred, the guilt, and the fear. He felt it all as this disgusting man defiled him again. Vernon's hands explored everywhere and Harry heard him speak again as he harshly turned Harry to face him. "They abandon those they don't need…"
All that could go through Harry's mind in that instant was one question. 'Why?' He was supposed to be safe, supposed to be protected…
XxXxX—XxXxX—XxXxX
Time made no difference in that instant as it seemed to tick by without anyone the wiser of the happenings or going on's at Number Four, Privet Drive. Harry didn't know how long it was before he found himself alone in the kitchen, he wasn't even sure when he had passed out from the pain and it was probably due to the sudden assault and violation that his body had rushed him into unconsciousness. As he got up, his leg's unsteady and weak, he found himself thankful for the fact that his body had already started healing itself much like it always had. He looked around him for a moment and found that his clothes had been tossed into a pile in a corner of the kitchen. Still unsteady underneath his own weight Harry half crawled, half walked over to his belongings and got dressed slipping his wand back into his pocket as he found it under one of the counters laying forgotten. As he was finished dressing Harry was pleased that he had gotten some strength back into his legs so he wouldn't have to crawl the steps up to his bedroom as he has had to so many other nights.
As he walked up the stairs Harry tightly clung to the rail to make sure he didn't fall in case he should suddenly lose the strength in his legs which he never enjoyed. As he passed the door to his aunt and uncle's bedroom he heard his uncle's carefree snoring, as though nothing had happened only moments ago. All Harry wished was that what had happened only moments ago had been nothing more than a terrible nightmare. Unreal and nothing more than lies his mind had come up with to torment him. He wished he was only now just now sneaking into the house… but Harry knew life wasn't like that. It had all happened and since it wasn't the first time he knew it wouldn't be the last.
As Harry entered his room he collapsed onto the bed. He found his body was more tired and at this point numb then anything. Turning his head slightly to the side he reached over and turned on the only sources of light in his room which was the lamp he had fixed a few years ago. When the light in his room came to life he examined his injures and found that his elbow had swollen. It looked as though there was an orange sitting where his joint should be, and it was becoming extremely difficult to move. Thankfully he didn't think it was broken, so he wasn't going to worry about it much right now. His stomach was covered in strange colored and swollen areas. One of his ribs now seemed to be pointing out at an odd angle, and there were dark and ugly looking bruises covering most of his chest. On his legs he found bruising in dark colors and one of his knees seemed to be in almost the same shape as his elbow. Though instead of pain when he moved it he really didn't feel anything except liquid in a tight space… Which part of him wondered if that was a good sign or bad…
Sighing he replaced his clothes; he'd heal in a couple days so there would be no evidence of the events that had happened just a little while ago. All of them, that is, except for his rib that was pointing out at such an odd angle. He'd have to come up with an excuse for it if anyone asked. He'd probably tell anyone who asked about it "he'd fallen down some stairs" or something… His brain was too tired to think of anything else as an excuse, and he knew he'd think more on it tomorrow. No one here would ask. They all knew Vernon's treatment of Harry wasn't exemplary or even legal sometimes, but Vernon stood by his 'beat the freak out of him' notion and they tended to agree. None had any idea the real reason was for… Harry had to smirk to himself as he reached up to turn the lamp off. He was probably going to use the oldest excuse there was when you get beat and didn't want anyone to know. Part of him knew he was becoming pathetic…
As he was half way to turning the light off he saw two shadows on the wall across from him that weren't normally there. Quickly turning to find out what was causing the shadows and reaching for his wand Harry found Hedwig and Pig perched on his windowsill, both watching him as he moved. Their eyes staring at his injures he had re-covered. Harry could have sworn he saw Hedwig's eyes flash with Pig's. They were holding letters addressed to him in their beaks waiting for him to take them.
Harry Moved as quickly as his body would allow on unsteady legs and as he moved his body cried out for him to lie down, but he went to them and collected the letters in their beaks. He gave both of them a pat on the head and fetched them treats from his closet. As he passed his bed he laid the letters down. Silently he gave them their treats and fetched them water. When he had finished attending to the two of them and they were happily drinking at their shared drink, and for once Hedwig was not giving Pig looks of disapproval, Harry went back to the two letters sitting on his bed that he found were from his friends Ron and Hermione.
As Harry finished reading both letters his skin became pale and his stomach again twisted asking, demanding, to be drained of all its contents. Harry could no longer hold back from its request and obliged to its demand, lunging to his trash bin. After a few moments he fell backwards and could only just lie on the floor looking to the ceiling and watch as the two owls flew around the small room hooting, upset because he had just been sick in the trash bin.
Hedwig landed by his side and Pig landed a little further away from Harry watching, silently bouncing toward his less injured leg. Hedwig hooted softly, comfortingly, and jumped to Harry's chest. Looking down at him, Harry saw that there was worry in her eyes.
Softly smiling up at her Harry scratched under Hedwig's beak for a moment. "I'm alright… I had just forgotten that today was my birthday."
END OF CHAPTER ONE (1)
A/N: Wowzaa! Okay so I went over this story top to bottom and the first chapters just weren't clicking… Like "click click click this is an awesome story!" (Which is never a good thing when the later chapters are awesome but the first chapters are suuuuck) SO I decided to go over it again… But this time I'm able to just fly right through because I finally, finally, FINALLY figured out what I feel was lacking from the story and had readers walking away after chapter one. I hope I fixed this little problem I was having and I hope I can get some more people interested in this story! Any feedback, comments, or helpful/kind reviews are always appreciated and very welcome! I wanna know what everyone thinks and if I fixed any issues the story was having :D
Small warning for you guys my grammar is on the not on the so good side and I am on the non-beta side of writing so any mistakes you see, totally my fault so please don't hold that against me to terribly much! It's just me getting too caught up in the story and wanting to post right quick for you guys and even though I go over the chapters so many times BEFORE and AFTER I put them up some stuff does slip through unnoticed... Sorry to anyone it bugs but I do try really hard to catch the BIG mistakes cause trust me, I have that same problem when I read a story and there are mistakes ALL over the place!
R&R!