Darkest Before Dawn
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all related material are copyrighted to J. K. Rowling. The fic is on a "fan fiction" website for a reason, kiddies.
SUMMARY: After a long disappearance over the summer, Harry returns to Hogwarts. Physically, at least.
Hey there... Amazing Snorkack here. I've lost my humorous touch over these past two years, so bear with me as I attempt to put together a new fanfic independent of anything you've seen in my previous ones. Don't expect a large amount of humor in the beginning, but I'll try to get a couple quips past you all. Well, enough of my senseless rambling, start reading!
Chapter 1
Waterlogged
The most dramatic scenes in literature and film are usually aided by nature. Rain, in all its majestic glory, comes to intensify the situation. The drops of water that fall from the sky are symbolic of a power that none can control.
How absolutely ironic it was that a child of destiny was caught in a downpour that night.
Harry Potter was no ordinary teenager. In a world that still evaded the non-magical to this day, he was the one beacon of hope. Many times he had played the hero, and with each the stakes were higher. He'd lost his parents at age one and his godfather at age fifteen. Beneath the stoic attitude he wore for the sake of others was a child crushed by the burden of responsibility and mangled by experience.
There was something that Harry hated above all else, and that was the Dark Lord, Voldemort. From the depths of nightmare there had rose a terrible enemy bent on eradicating all without purity of wizard blood. Every day he had grown more powerful. He had only been foiled when his attempt on the lives of the Potter family had backfired, his killing curse rebounded off a child. It left the Dark Lord on the brink of death. However, two years ago he had risen again, bringing with him the same terrible destruction he had always orchestrated. Harry was cursed with a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead and a mental link to Voldemort.
That link was tearing him apart as his summer holiday progressed. He was losing his sanity.
Occlumency was doing him no good. Even though he went to sleep devoid of emotion, it must not have been a difficult task for the Dark Lord to mess with his mind. Night after night he was visited by nightmares filled with blood and terror. They were the exposed ambitions of a maniac.
He could be warping me into someone else and I'd never know, Harry sighed inwardly.
His black hair was drenched and clung to him like a dead weight. His green eyes could see nothing through his battered, round glasses. All he got in the way of clothing were hand-me-downs from his disgustingly fat cousin, Dudley. The huge T-shirt and pair of baggy sweats hung off of Harry as though he were a twig doll. He was unusually skinny.
The thunderstorm roared around him. He headed for the home of his surrogate family. The Dursley household. He laughed aloud. They only kept him out of fear at this point.
He strolled down Privet Drive for a while longer. Mad-Eye Moody had warned him never to leave the house until the Order of the Phoenix came to get him, but Harry didn't care. If he got hit with a killing curse, then he'd obviously be beyond responsibility. He couldn't lose. Then his mind settled on Trelawney's first prophecy, and his expression turned sour. He would be the murderer or the victim of Voldemort only.
He loped up the driveway of Number 4 and stopped on the porch, taking a couple of seconds to dry off and look around. The Dursley car was parked in front of the squat garage, so he assumed they were home. He reached out to knock on the door.
There was a clamor nearby, and he whirled around to see several shadowy figures coming at him from Aunt Petunia's hedge. One of them raised a wand, and shouted something. A blue light hit Harry in the chest, and he was slammed against the door.
The moonlit Privet Drive swam before him in a blur of colors as the seven people walked up to him. He groped for his wand, but his hand was slow to react, and felt numb and heavy. His knees buckled underneath him, and everything went black.
The stress of Harry's disappearance was wearing everyone in the Order of the Phoenix down. To most, it appeared he had run away – all of his belongings had vanished from the Dursley residence, for instance. The Order had been quick to discover that was not the case. A high concentration of magical energy was found right before the Dursley's front door. The ministry confirmed that Harry had not used his wand at all once he'd left the school, so it must have been a trap.
Nymphadora Tonks slumped into an armchair in the living room of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. As a Metamorphmagus, she could change her appearance at will. No one but her parents knew what she had originally looked like, and they had long since died during the previous wizarding war. But now, without the ability to concentrate, her guises were slipping. Harry was gone, presumably dead, and this new war was as good as lost.
The fireplace crackled and flashed a violent emerald. Remus Lupin stepped out of the flames and dusted himself off. His face was as haggard as ever, perhaps even more so because of the approaching full moon. He unbuttoned his threadbare coat and tossed it over a chair. "Evening, Tonks."
"Wotcher, Remus."
The werewolf collapsed into the chair next to her. "Lovely weather for an emergency meeting."
"It's been raining nonstop for three weeks now," said Tonks.
One by one, the members of the Order began to arrive. Some came through the fireplace, others Apparated. Luckily for them, the portrait of Sirius Black's mother had finally been removed from the wall of the house. Forcefully. There would be no insane shrieking to greet each newcomer.
Dumbledore arrived last. After several protective spells were cast about the room, everyone settled down. The meeting began.
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