The characters and just about everything else, belong to J.K. Rowling, and only the story and any new characters belong to me.
Harry Potter and the Hidden Truth
Chapter 1 The Letter
The summer would not be a good one for Harry Potter. Any normal kid would be happy to start the summer holidays. It would mean no school for a few months, but Harry was not normal. He loved school. He loved his friends. And he hated his family. Ok, maybe not hated, but they never gave him a reason to like them. His parents were killed when he was a baby, and he was sent to live with his Aunt and Uncle. They did not like Harry, or anyone like him. They made his life miserable.
For the longest time Harry believed that his parents were killed in a car accident. He really had no reason to doubt what his Aunt and Uncle had told him. I mean after all, why would they lie. But lie they did. Harry did not discover the truth until his eleventh birthday. That was the day Harry's life changed forever. And now, Harry was not sure if it changed for the better. Some aspects of his life were indeed much better than they had been.
He no longer slept in the small cupboard under the stairs. He now had his own room. It still had all of Dudley's broken toys in it, but it was at least a better place to sleep. He also had friends. Ron and Hermione were the best friends a person could have.
But being a wizard had a bad side as well. There was the knowledge that your parents died because of magic. The fact that he was famous for something he really had no control over, something that he can't remember, and doesn't know how he did it. The fact that Voldemort was out to kill him, and he still doesn't know why. And the fact that people he cared for were put in harms way, because of their association with him.
Harry often found himself wondering what life would have been like; if he had never found out that he was a wizard. Sure, he would still be with the Dursley's, but at least he would have a normal life. He would be going to a public school, with other normal kids, and the worst thing he would have to watch out for, would be Dudley. That didn't sound too bad, but it was no use to dwell on what would never be.
He also would not be having the nightmares, which he was currently having. That is if he is lucky enough to even fall asleep. Harry almost forgot what sleep was like, it didn't happen very often these days. When he would manage to get some sleep, he would almost always be jarred from his rest by images of his parent's death. Or the death of the innocent Hogwarts student Cedric Diggory, who was killed because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, next to Harry Potter. Cedric had died for no reason. Harry did not know why Voldemort had went after his parents, but he did want them dead for a reason. He felt from his experiences with Dementors, and his encounter with Voldemort, that he had specifically targeted his father, and himself. Lily had just got in the way, and refused to let him at Harry. That's why she was killed. Harry wondered what it was about him and his father that made Voldemort want them dead.
This holiday term had already been a strange one for Harry. It was only two days since he left his friends at King's Cross Station. But he desperately wanted to be back at Hogwarts Castle. It was the only real place where Harry felt at home. He was outside in the hot mid-day sun, weeding the garden, which he feared would take all day. It felt as if, as soon as he pulled one weed, ten more showed up. The sun was shining down on Harry making him utterly miserable. He paused from the gardening, rubbing the sweat from his face, and succeeding in getting his face really dirty. With a tired sigh, he took off his gloves and threw them to the ground
"Man. I wish these weeds would just disappear" and to his surprise, they did just that. Harry was in shock. One minute, the garden was thick with weeds, and now, there wasn't a weed in sight. Harry could not explain what had just happened, but he assumed it was wandless magic. Harry had been capable of things like this all of his life. Making things happen, when he was angry or upset, without really meaning to.
Now that the weeding had been done, Harry had the rest of the day free. He didn't want to go in the house, afraid that Aunt Petunia would give him more chores to do. He was thirsty, so he went to the side of the house, to get a drink from the outside tap. After that was done, Harry decided to make use of the comfortable hammock that was in the very back of the yard. It was in the shade, and so he hoped maybe he might be able to get some sleep.
As Harry lie there, he thought about his childhood. It really wasn't all that bad. He had food to eat, although not very much. He had a roof over his head and clean clothes, that was more than a lot of kids had. He began to think of what it must have been like for Tom Riddle. His father had left his mother when he found out that she was a witch, and then she died giving birth to her son. Riddle was then raised in a muggle orphanage, which must have been difficult. Harry wasn't too fond of the Dursley's, but at least they were family. He wondered how his life might have been different if he too had gone to a muggle orphanage, rather than to the Dursley's. Would he have turned out like Riddle? When he was in the Chamber of Secrets, Riddle had brought up the similarities between the two of them. If he could turn evil like that, what was stopping Harry from becoming the same way?
His early years had not been terribly happy one. Harry tried to remember a time when he might have considered himself happy. Those times were few and far between. The first thing that came to mind was when it would rain. Harry loved the rain. He used sneak out of the house to play in it. Sometimes staying out there for hours, or until his aunt or uncle would come to get him. He would always get in trouble for that.
Harry was brought back to reality, when he felt moisture fall on his skin. He opened his eyes. It was raining. It wasn't supposed to rain today. For a brief moment he thought he had better go inside, but then he decided against it. He would lay in the hammock, and pretend he was that same little boy, blissfully unaware of the dangers that would come to him in the future. Harry soon fell asleep, and this time, he wasn't woken by nightmares.
*****
Harry woke up a couple of hours later, having got the best sleep he had in a month. He headed into the house, to take a shower and get ready for dinner. After his shower, Harry headed down stairs, and wondered into the living room. He took up an empty armchair in the back of the room, so as not to disturb Vernon and Dudley, and began to watch the news. This was a habit he had started, hoping that if Voldemort was up to anything, the muggles might have noticed, and put it on the news.
A large brown eagle owl soared through the open window at 4 Pivet Drive, circling the room, until Harry motioned it towards him, the owl landed on his arm. Harry removed the envelope from the owl, and it took to the air again, and then flew from the house.
Harry made his way in to the dining room, so he could read the letter in private. He began to look over the letter, it appeared to be an ordinary letter, but it had no address on it. Harry wondered who the letter could be from. He was hoping that it was from Sirius. He had sent Hedwig with a letter for Sirius, and he was hoping to hear back from him. But she had retuned with no response.
Harry's uncle, Vernon, came thundering into the room. "What do you think you're doing? You know you're not to receive owls in the middle of the day." He shouted.
Harry thought of his response for a moment. Searching for the answer that would get the best response from his uncle. Vernon knew all about Sirius, he saw the news report about the escaped prisoner. And for it to be on the muggle news, he must be dangerous.
"I'm sorry, it's probably from Sirius, my godfather. Since he is on the run from the Ministry of Magic and the muggle authorities, he has to send me owls when he can."
Harry hesitated for a moment, thinking that using the word magic, and muggle in the same sentence would warrant a reaction from his uncle, however none came, so he finished.
"I can write to him and tell him not to send anymore owls, but then he would probably think that something was wrong."
Harry watched his uncle, who was now visibly shaking and turning red with anger. "No, that isn't necessary. Maybe you should write him back and let him know that everything is fine." he said, looking like Dudley did when Aunt Petunia caught him raiding the refrigerator. "Oh, I will." Harry stated, grinning at how easy it was to manipulate his uncle.
Harry opened the envelope, pulling out a piece of black parchment. He unfolded it. He noticed that it was written in green ink, and then he glanced to the top of the parchment, that's when he noticed it, in the center of the parchment, was the dark mark. "No, it can't be!" Harry felt a twinge of pain in his scar, but it was nothing like the pain he usually got.
Dear Harry,
I am sorry about your loss. It is always unfortunate, when someone as young as Mr. Diggory dies. I hope that you are not feeling too guilty about his death. But, I thought if anyone could prevent his death, it would have been the great wizard, Harry Potter.
However Harry, you can prevent any further loss of life. Join me, and help rid the world of those unfit to live. No one could stop the two of us together. Refuse and I will kill everyone that you care about.
Consider your options carefully, Harry. Your decision could change the world, as we know it.
I will be waiting for your answer. But I suggest not taking too long. I am not sure if your mudblood friend, will be able to wait very long either.
VOLDEMORT
Harry dropped the letter on the table. He thought about what he had to do. If he refused, Voldemort would kill his friends. Suddenly, with a popping noise, Harry was gone.
*****
Harry stood in the middle of a dark room, there were only a few candles lit, casting an eerie shadow across the room. Harry could see an altar in the middle of the room. He took out his wand. "Lumos" he whispered. With the light from his wand, he examined the large structure again. It was solid stone, with snakes carved into the sides. There appeared to be something lying atop the altar. He slowly walked closer to it, and then he realized what it was. "Hermione" he screamed. He raced toward her. She was alive, but unconscious. He grabbed Hermione, loosening her bindings; he pulled her down to the hard stone floor.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his scar. He quickly turned around, standing behind him, was Voldemort.
"Hello Harry. Happy to see me?" he hissed. "Have you made your decision?" he waited for an answer. "Harry, it's not wise to make me wait. Give me your answer!"
"No!" Harry yelled. "My answer is no!"
Voldemort grinned, "I was hoping for a different answer Harry."
"I will never join you!" Harry said defiantly. "Why would I align my self with someone who killed my parents, and tried to kill me?"
"You ask why Harry. Because you can't beat me. I was giving you the opportunity to live, and rule the world with me. But, since you refuse, you leave me with no other option." He raised his wand, pointing it directly at Hermione. "Avada Kedavera" he screamed.
Without thinking, he grabbed Hermione, pulling himself in front of her, blocking her from the curse. He felt it hit him in the back, and then he felt no more. His lifeless body slumped to the floor.
