Technically a DD 4e/5e crossover, but meh. Writing when I cba. Don't expect regular updates.
Harry was alone. It was a conclusion that had taken him several weeks to come to, but one he was now certain of. Seldom had he needed the presence of a friend to comfort him, but this time, the worst time, was just like the rest. Silence.
He lay on his bed in the dark, at Number 4, Privet Drive, opting unable to continue what had been a daily routine of writing a letter.
He'd written several letters, asking for advice. Then conversation, and finally just a cry for help, to get out of the pit of despair he was slowly descending into. Watching a boy die at the hands of the Dark Lord Voldemort had traumatised him and he was conscious of it. But so far the only messages he had received were warning him not to do anything rash (yes thank you Sirius) and the absence of his final remaining friend.
Hedwig, the snowy owl whom he cherished with all his heart had not returned from her last trip. That meant she was either trapped, injured, or... No, that would be ridiculous. They probably locked her up. Which made him doubly angry.
If they didn't want to talk, they could say so. Kidnapping his friend... Harry's hand curled onto a fist. It took him a minute to calm down again.
But it did no good to ponder on it. That was how it was, apparently. Harry was going to have to live with the solitude, and suffer in silence. Again.
Nothing remained but to close his eyes and slowly drift off, into the realms of Morpheus, where he knew Cedric's death would be replayed over, and over...
Ξ
Harry awoke rather peacefully; a strange occurrence these days. He couldn't recall any dreams, or anything else. Just peaceful, restful sleep. Harry actually felt like he'd rested for once.
It was as he sat up he realised something was off. The first thing being balance. He couldn't quite make out which way was downwards. Obviously he could see the floor but... speaking of the floor, it was grey. As was the whole room. It was daytime, light streaming in through the window, but the desk, the sheets, the walls - everything was in dull monochrome.
Unsteadily, Harry placed his feet on the floor, attempting to stand - and falling almost immediately. He felt a great pain in his head, and saw darkness.
Ξ
Three days later Harry was in the park of Little Whinging. It was small, but there were a few things to keep children entertained: a slide, a climbing frame; even a zipwire. And the all important swings, which he was making great use of - sitting and brooding had become quite a hobby of his. Brooding over being abandoned by his friends mostly. And his life in general up to that point. The countless times he'd been left in the dirt, starting when he'd lost a few house points in first year. People were petty.
But today, apparently, his brooding was to be disturbed.
Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye a group of several boys, his age. There was only one of those in Little Whinging: his cousin's group. If they saw him they'd surely make a beeline for him,something he'd normally avoid. But these past few days he'd felt a sturrung rage inside of him, begging to be unleashed.
He watched them walk across the park, evidently taking no notice of him. Any sudden movement, or sound and they'd come running for him.
They were almost at the end now and he was tempted to call out... but no, he couldn't. Why risk the pain? He would be expelled if he used magic to deal with them. He watched the group walk through the gate and around the bend..
There you go Sirius. Nothing rash. The exact opposite of what you would have done. The sarcastic thought only brought him anger at his supposed godfather.
Harry dismounted the swing and started walking. So far walking it off had been the best way to deal with it.
His speed slowly increased as more thought of betrayal and loneliness filled his head. After a bit of walking his speed became evident as he rounded a corner to find Dudley's gang. He quickly reversed, hiding in the shadow of the street he had come from, but still close enough to hear them talking.
"...he squealed like a pig! That was a good kick Marcus!"
"But your right hook though! Anyway, same time tomorrow? My parents are out again."
"Sure thing Big D. See ya!"
There were a couple more murmurs of farewells, and then they dispersed, leaving only Dudley to walk home alone.
Throwing caution to the wind, Harry approached.
"Hey Big D!" he grinned.
Dudley turned around, surprised for a moment, before visibly relaxing..
"Oh, its you." He grunted.
"Since when were you 'Big D' then?" Harry said cheerfully.
"Shut it." Dudley grunted again, sounding slightly annoyed.
"I must say, I do prefer Ickle Duddikins though. Has more of a ring to it don't you think?" Harry fell in beside his cousin, who was beginning to get visibly frustrated.
"I said SHUT IT!" Dudley replied, his hamlike hands curling into fists.
"But I thought you liked being called 'Diddums'. You don't complain when-"
Harry narrowly dodged the fist that came hurtling in the direction of his nose. Dudley glared at him for a second, then mumbled something under his breath before walking on again, fists still clenched.
"What's that Dudders? I can't hear you." Harry smirked, still standing where he'd been before.
Dudley stopped and yelled angrily "I SAID YOU'RE NOT SO TOUGH AT NIGHT ARE YOU?! "
"What do you mean?" Harry said, feeling the colour slowly drain from his face.
"You think I haven't heard you moaning at night? It's pathetic."
Harry was speechless for the moment, pale faced and with a dry throat. Then, "I've no idea what you mean."
"Oh come off it, even Mum and Dad can hear it," Dudley was the one smirking now. "'Don't kill Cedric! don't kill Cedric!' Who's Cedric? Your boyfriend?"
That was enough for Harry to snap. All the rage he'd been building up was let loose as he began to march forward, drawing his wand. Dudley looked at the stick and jeered.
"You can't use it outside school. You'll be expelled." He still had that stupid grin on his face. Until Harry brought the wand up, jabbing it between the boy's chin and his Adam's apple.
"Who says they didn't change the rules? Nothing is stopping me, Ickle Duddykins." Harry's voice was cold and harsh, each syllable dripping with venom and malice. Dudley's face morphed into one of fear.
"Th-they didn't! They couldn't! Y-you're bluffing!" Harry enjoyed every fearful word, finally able to feel powerful. Then Dudley shrieked.
"Stop it! Whatever you're doing stop it now!"
Harry hadn't noticed it before, but it was suddenly colder. The sky had darkened, with dark grey clouds coating it. The wind had picked up somewhat, causing something wooden nearby to strain and creak.
Without any warning, the entire world darkened and turned grey for a brief second, and a sharp pain caused Harry to bend overover and clutch at his head.
Harry's face met with a foot, and his wand was wrenched from his hand. He heard a loud SNAP! and then heavy footsteps running away. Harry fell to the ground.
And then the pain stopped, and the world brightened, colours refilling the land. But the chill remained. And worse, Harry began to feel sorrow and fear grip his mind: the effect of a dementor's presence. Getting to his feet and searching the sky told him all he expected.
Two dark, cloaked, legless silhouettes were rapidly descending in his direction. He scanned the ground to see where he'd dropped his wand. No... he couldn't see it but-
There! Five feet from him he saw the long, slender piece of wood... snapped in two pieces.
Harry's throat felt dry, but this wasn't the time. He picked up the pieces and ran.
It didn't take Harry long to catch up to his whale of a cousin. Upon seeing him Dudley desperately tried to speed up, apparently still afraid that Harry could hurt him without a wand. He almost slowed down in confusion when Harry yelled "Run!"
Then they were side by side, Dudley confused but afraid, Harry trying his best to outrun the embodiment of fear itself. In the back of his mind a piercing scream began to echo, but without his wand he could do nothing.
Then one came around the corner ahead. Harry grabbed his cousin's hand and pulled in the other direction-
But there was the other one. Both ends of the small street were cut off. There was no way out.
Moving too fast for Harry to react they were on top of the two boys, knocking them to the floor.
Without his wand, Harry did the only thing he could. He landed the punch square in the thing's face, knocking its hood back and revealing a rotten, translucent, skeletal head with small bits of some kind of black metal piercing it's cheekbones.
The dementor shrieked. A deafening scream pierced the street, and Harry barely heard Dudley yelling in pain for it to stop. Then both of them were unable to talk as some kind of force sucked on their mouths, forcing them open.
Harry felt all warmth leaving him, as he was forced to stare into the empty sockets of the being. He craned his neck trying to escape but it didn't matter. He felt a numbness, slowly losing control of himself. He couldn't feel his legs or his arms, and now his chest was gone.
And it travelled further still. His neck was unfeelable, and suddenly he had no sense of smell or taste. The world was odd without smell. And then his vision was gone, as he felt himself travelling up, out of his mouth. And then he had no feeling whatsoever, and there was but darkness.
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