Disclaimer. Harry Potter is the the property of J.K.Rowling
Chapter One
Losing it
Present
Running. Faster and faster and faster until suddenly all he could see was green. A surreal greenish haze surrounded him. An onlooker would say he didn't look scared. He should have been scared. If you looked closer, all you could see was a stony, defying silence and shockingly green eyes. Brilliantly startling in their clarity. Looking at them you couldn't see the fear. But. It was there nonetheless. Scared, hell no he was terrified! This was it. His uncle had finally lost it. Harry himself had lost it with him.
Past
He had woken up this morning to a furious rapping at the window. There was an owl? at the window. It looked like an owl that is. He wasn't sure of the matter. It was black and had gilded streaks. However, the gold wasn't all that goldish. It had an odd green gleam. There was something unnatural about this owl. It was holding a scarlet envelope. Not a howler. No just something else. Something far worse. He had a foreboding that if he didn't open this then it wouldn't go away but something unspeakable would happen. So he did what he could do. The only thing that-
"Boy will you stop that infernal racket up there!" an angry shout from downstairs interrupted his thoughts.
At that moment he shoved open the window and grabbed the letter. He felt a smarting at his fingertips. A tingle flew down his spine and then there was an explosion. Heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs. The door burst open and the man who looked like a bulging balloon looked around the room making fishlike mouth movements. Harry barely had the time to register the pain as an arm grabbed his shoulder and pulled him fast down the stairs. Muttering furiously Vernon Dursley slammed open the car door and shoved Harry into his car and got into the drivers seat. Fumbling for the key, he managed to start the engine. Harry's non-reaction was due to the fact of what he had seen on the walls of his bedroom. He needn't have seen them all but one was enough. He had seen a crude moving drawing of a battlefield. Each member of the Weasley family was being tortured and so was Hermione. There was blood everywhere and in the corner Dumbledore was just sitting and watching it take place. He had stared, as there was movement. Out of the mass of red, he could see a bloody Ron suddenly shielding Hermione from view looking in fear directly into Harry's eyes. In that moment when blue met green Harry saw fear. The lot of the people were staring at him in fear and hatred. Molly Weasley's eyes were looking at him disappointment, Hermione's in shock and Ginny's pity.
Sitting numbly in the car Harry was trying to gain order of his thoughts. Was this real? Was it some sort picture of what was going to happen. It was his fault, he had admitted, that Sirius had been killed. If only he had gotten that damned mirror and used his brains but no that wouldn't do now would it for the great Harry bloody Potter nope. Not a chance. He had to put himself and five others at risk not forgetting the order by being
It was all his fault. Full stop. He had realised as he was being driven home from the train station that he was a danger to everyone and so kept his distance at least tried to the separation from the magical world for once aiding him. He sent a letter every other day with the mandatory "I'm okay" He couldn't care less about Ron's insensitivity, of Hermione's skirting around the edges or anyone else for that matter. At least he hoped they felt so. He made it sound in the letters as though he was having the time of his life. Away from the Weasley's. As soon as he returned he had planned to separate himself by pretending to be absorbed in his studies but first of all he had plan. He would play matchmaker. He had kind of in the back of his mind seen this one coming. Ron and Hermione. Oh yes. As soon as the started going out they would probably prefer not being around him and be truly happy. And so this had been his plan of action as soon as he got back to Hogwarts
Sitting in the car, which was now swerving dangerously Harry practically flying out of his seat every so often, left him with these thoughts racing through his head. His first plan to keep them away wouldn't work. No. He had to make them hate him some how. Otherwise, all those he loved. Everyone that he held dear would die. Perhaps it would be best if his uncle crashed and they both ended up dead. That would be killing two birds with one stone. But his compassion held him firmly stopping him from plundering into the darkness of death. He would save them all. But at a cost. He would save them all by hurting them the most. They themselves would pull away from him. Yes, that was what he would do.
The car lurched to a halt. They were in the middle of a wood. Uncle Vernon turned of the engine and heaved our of the car. He got to Harry's side and flung the door open. He drew back his fist which found Harry's cheek. Harry could taste the blood in his mouth, that awful taste that seemed somewhat, well interesting. And as his uncle screamed word words of murder at him Harry's rage fumed to a boiling point. He got up of the ground (the place where he had suddenly found himself )and wiped away his blood. Furiously he threw punches at uncle Vernon. Punches that were well aimed unlike the Dursley's wild blind punches. Punches that had the anger Harry had kept bottled up. anger at the Dursley's and anger at Dumbledore. Anger at Ron and Hermione and anger, anger at himself. As Vernon Dursley staggered from the ground blood drenching the summer leaves Harry Potter ran. He ran for his life.
Present
As he found himself in a clearing, he blinked. There was a fallen figure on the grass. He gasped. "Ginny". It was Ginny's dead body. Blood was streaming from her forehead. Merging with the lay of her fiery red hair. Her dress was shrugged of her shoulder somewhat forcedly full of rips. It appeared to have been a struggle. Her bare arms bruised her legs shades of purple. She looked beaten, tortured, goodness knew what she had gone through. Although he knew she was dead, he knelt down towards her body and tried to wake her. She couldn't be dead he thought full of grief. No, not Ginny. A bird hooted. He looked up to see the same owl fly away as something descending to the ground. His wand. What was it doing here? The owl. Something flickered in the back of his mind. The owl that had delivered the scarlet letter had grabbed his wand. The hell! What was it doing here? he disregarded it. crouching over Ginny's body he shook it trying to wake her, he was so immersed in doing so that he didn't hear the sound of the apparitions of various wizards. He started laughing. Laughing against his will. His throat constricted and he found he couldn't stop
The wizards found Harry Potter just crouched there over, what was that, a dead body? Laughing. There was nothing funny here. Quickly assessing the situation, they stunned him. Harry Potter lost all consciousness.