A/N: Right, a few points before I start this story, I'll try to be quick:
Ok, so this is my first ever story so please be gentle! I did put in some stuff that I read in other stories, so if you see anything that's yours, tell me, so I can give you credit, ok?
My second point: I am NOT J.K. Rowling so don't expect this to be a masterpiece (otherwise I wouldn't be putting this on the internet) and if you don't like where this story is going, don't go writing non-sense flames and just search for another story that you do like, there are plenty.
And last of all, this story is not exactly as post OotP as I had wanted and some things are a bit over the top, but I hope you guys can bear that. And the story gets loads better after a couple of chapters.
Hope you like it:
Chapter 1: Tears and BruisesA high, cold cruel voice rang through the air, breaking the unbearable silence at last. "What is it," it said, almost in a bored tone.
"H-he is waiting outside, m-master."
"Well, bring him in, you useless fool!" The malicious voice spat, before sighing in anger.
"Yes, m-master." The short fat man scuttled out of the room and reentered it a few seconds later, with another man who was quite the opposite; he was tall, thin and still had all of his hair.
"Thank you, Wormtail. You may leave," said Voldemort, uncaringly waving his hand in the direction of the exit. His voice alone made the two men shudder. "What do you have, to report to me?" He turned to the tallest one, who had just entered.
"Nothing, sir. I still have not gained any information." The Dark Lord thought for a moment.
"Very well, you may also leave." The man turned around and left the room. The other stayed in his seat and reached out to pat the large snake that kept circling his chair, which stood in the middle of a dark and gloomy room. The snake hissed at his master and then continued to circle. "Yes, Nagini, it seems my plan is not working too well, but maybe it will pay off later. I need every information I can get in order to make my plan work flawlessly," he hissed back.
Harry Potter sat straight up in bed, clutching his scar. He'd had a dream, or rather a nightmare, about some large snake that talked to a man about a plan not working too well. It was often now that he had such nightmares. The pain in his scar subsided slowly and he looked around the room. He wanted to be everywhere but here, in this house.
After slowly stumbling out of bed, he walked over to his window. It was still dark outside and the street lamps lit Privet Drive weakly. A few leaves could be seen floating through the air under the direct light of the streetlamps, but besides them nothing else showed up under their feeble glow, yet still Harry felt uncomfortable. It felt as if someone, or something, was watching him from the shadows outside. He sat on his bed and stared at his desk where crumpled up pieces of parchment lay. He had tried to write to Sirius a dozen times so far, only to remember that his godfather was dead.
His eyes slowly moved to the corner of his desk where Hedwig's empty cage stood. She still hadn't returned from the hunt that had begun a few nights ago. Harry looked around his room and heaved a great sigh. He wished he could go to Hogwarts, but that wasn't until September first and it was now the thirty-first of July. 'What?' He thought, looking once more at his clock, which also showed the date. It was six fifteen, which meant that he had been sixteen for six hours and fifteen minutes already.
Of course he wasn't overly exited; he never received any presents from the Dursley's and his friends hadn't written to him at all the summer, like last year, unless you count the time they had sent a letter together asking how he was doing. That had been it, one crummy letter asking if he was all right. Of course he wasn't! What did they expect? That he was bouncing off the walls with joy?
Harry put his head on his pillow and slowly drifted off to sleep again, feeling very lonely.
A soft hoot woke Harry up and he found himself staring in the amber eyes of his owl, which had her head cocked to one side, as if inspecting him. "Hedwig!" He exclaimed softly. "You're back!" He stroked the top of her head with much fondness and she nipped affectionately at his fingers. "For a while you had me thinking you'd left me." Hedwig hooted again. Harry's reaction hadn't been overly exaggerated; Hedwig was the only one in this neighborhood that had a connection with magic like he did. Of course there was Mrs. Figg but she was busy with the Ministry a lot lately. Besides, his owl always seemed to understand how he was feeling.
"Glad to see you again." Harry whispered as he stroked Hedwig's head. His owl gave yet another hoot and then perched herself on his shoulder, revealing a small packet of gifts on his bed. A smile, something he hadn't worn for a long time, made it's way onto Harry's face as he grabbed the one nearest to him, which was pretty large, and pulled off the card.
Dear Harry,
Bin a bit busy with some things lately so I had no time ter write ter yeh, but I hope this present makes up fer it a bit. I'm quite sure yeh'll like it. (I had no time ter wrap it in decent wrapping paper, either.)
Hagrid.
P.S. Hope yer doin' all right over there.
Harry picked up the package again and thought Hagrid was right: the wrapping paper wasn't exactly what you'd call decent. It seemed like recycled toilet paper. But he couldn't care less as he ripped the toilet paper off. A large crimson colored photo album lay in his hands. He opened it and saw that Hagrid had scribbled a note on the first page:
Yeh can never have enough photo albums, eh? Asked everyone fer more pictures of yer parents… an' Sirius. Hope yeh enjoy it.
Tears formed in Harry's eyes as he flipped the page. The first picture was probably the most recent. It was in the lovely living room of Sirius' house. He stood there smiling and waving. Most of the pictures contained Sirius but a few showed his parents during their Hogwarts years and the years after.
Harry carefully laid the album down and reached for the next present, though he doubted it could surpass Hagrid's album.
Dear Harry,
I am currently in Greece with my parents. The weather is lovely and the food is absolutely delicious. I was a bit surprised when I found Hedwig sitting in my hotel room (how on earth could she have known I was here?) but I immediately gave her the gift I had bought for you a few days ago. I do hope you like it.
Have a good summer!
Love,
Hermione
Harry unwrapped the neatly wrapped package and found a whole bunch of sweets in his lap. All of them were sugar free, of course; her parents were dentists. Most sweets Harry recognized but a few were unfamiliar to him and he guessed they were Greek. He grabbed one and stuffed it in his mouth as he reached for the next package that contained a note. He almost knew for sure it was from Ron.
Dear Harry,
I've been a bit busy the last few days to write to you; Fred and George keep trying to test their new inventions on me and I'm awfully careful now. Once they ambushed me as I was walking down the stairs: we rolled down three flights and when we landed in the hall downstairs they stuffed some bitter tasting candy in my mouth and I sprouted seven extra ears. Mum was beside herself with rage, needless to say, and her scolding carried all the way to the attic: the ghoul, unfortunately, heard her and started banging things against the pipes for hours, even when Mum had finished shouting.
Anyways, I bought your present in Diagon Alley last time I was there with my mum and I really hope you like it. (She sent you something, too, I don't know if it's arrived yet.)
Ron
Harry unwrapped the package and found himself holding a book called: Quidditch Like You've Never Known It Before. The cover was a soft shade of yellow, the title jumping out in a bright purple.
"Brilliant," Harry muttered to himself. The next presents weren't nearly as great but he appreciated it all the same. He had received Mrs. Weasley's mince pies, a pair of socks that didn't match from Dobby; one was green with wands on it, the other blue with sparkling stars, and a book with all sorts of different spells from Remus Lupin.
Harry held Lupin's gift in his hands thinking there was now only one of the Marauder's left that was truly a Marauder; Wormtail, of course, was a traitor. He was just thinking more about Sirius when there was a loud hammering on his bedroom door. Harry hurriedly wiped his tears away and then opened the door. Aunt Petunia stood there, her lips forming a tight line and her beady eyes glaring at him.
"Yes?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too rude.
"Something has arrived for you downstairs," she said curtly while still glaring at him.
"Er… All right," Harry said. Aunt Petunia turned around swiftly and then went back downstairs. Harry closed the door, got dressed and then walked downstairs, wondering why either someone would send him something by mail or why the owl hadn't delivered the message straight to him. He entered the kitchen where Uncle Vernon sat sipping his coffee while reading a newspaper and where Dudley sat grumpily eating a small piece of melon; he was still on his special diet, though no immediate effect could be seen.
"Er… Aunt Petunia said something had arrived for me," Harry said. Uncle Vernon looked up, his eyes narrowed.
"On the counter," he grunted. As Harry walked over to the counter, where a furry gray lump lay, Uncle Vernon yelled: "AND IF THOSE NUTTERS EVER SEND ANYTHING ELSE TO US YOU'LL NOT BE GOING BACK TO THAT SCHOOL!" Causing Harry to jump a little in shock. Harry picked the furry lump up, wondering what it was, when it emitted a soft hoot. He nearly dropped it in fright, but controlled himself.
"Thanks," he said to Uncle Vernon and then went back to his room carrying what appeared to be an owl; nothing else hoots, does it? Normally Dudley would've followed him upstairs to taunt him, but lately he appeared to be in too grumpy a mood lately to be teasing Harry much, not that Harry minded.
He laid the owl on his bed and sat down on the floor, watching it. After about a second or so the owl lifted its head and Harry realized which one it was –
"Errol!" He exclaimed. Errol gave a frail hoot and stuck out its leg. Harry took the piece of parchment off and then set Errol in Hedwig's cage so he could regain his strength. He then unfolded the parchment and read the letter.
Dear Harry,
Mum said that you were allowed to spend the rest of the summer with us but since Hedwig has just left with your gift she said I could use Errol to send this. Personally I don't think he'd live to deliver another letter, but prove me wrong and send a reply back ASAP. We're picking you up with Ministry cars today at half past five (p.m.) whether the Muggles let you leave or not.
Wait, I think I hear Fred and George sneaking up on me. Hold on… No, just my imagination, but I'm seriously paranoid. Why can't they test their stuff on Ginny? Or Percy… that'll shut him up about
But just then his writing trailed off of the parchment and Harry was pretty sure Fred and George had strapped Ron down to the ground and popped some new invention of theirs in his mouth.
Sorry Harry but I have to go after Fred and George now. See you at five thirty.
Ron
Harry folded the piece of parchment back up and went downstairs. All he had to do now was ask Uncle Vernon if it was all right that he spent the rest of the summer vacation at Ron's. It seemed like an easy task but Harry knew it was exactly the opposite. He entered the kitchen and found his uncle still reading the newspaper. Dudley was nowhere to be seen. He was probably out beating up some kids with his gang.
"Excuse me, uncle Vernon?" asked Harry. His uncle looked up, eyes narrowing as they always did when Harry was around.
"What?" his uncle snapped.
"I was wondering if it was all right if I spent the rest of my summer vacation at Ron's house. They're picking me up at five thirty this evening," said Harry.
"How are they picking you up?" Grunted Uncle Vernon.
"By car," replied Harry.
"All right, then. But you better stay away the rest of summer and stay at that ruddy school of yours over the winter and Easter vacations. I don't want you ruining our holidays," Uncle Vernon said. Harry smiled, inwardly.
"All right, then," he said and then walked back up to his room, planning to pack his things already.
Five thirty that evening could not have come slower. For a while Harry had actually thought someone had set the clocks to go so slow on purpose. He walked downstairs carrying his trunk and owl cage, with Hedwig and Errol in it, and set them in the hall. He then entered the living room but walked almost immediately back into the hall; Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were in the living room and he didn't feel like waiting with them. Instead he sat down on the stairs watching the door.
Finally the bell rang and Harry jumped up to answer. When he opened the door he looked into the grinning face of Ron who had grown another few inches, though he himself had gotten quite taller, too.
"Hey, mate. We're here to pick you up," Ron said and then peered inside the house. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia walked into the hall, looking very disapproving.
"I'll just grab my stuff," said Harry and he grabbed his trunk and owl cage and walked outside in the cool, crisp air. Mr. Weasley put Harry's things in the back of the car and then walked over to Harry's Aunt and Uncle, no doubt wanting to catch a glimpse of the interior of the house.
"Bye," Harry told the Dursley's and he waved at Dudley, who was peering curiously out of one of the windows. Uncle Vernon grunted in return and Aunt Petunia's lips formed an even thinner line than before. Harry got into the back seat with Ron and Mr. Weasley seated himself behind the steering wheel after having failed to catch a glance of some Muggle items. They drove off and Harry felt a lot happier than he had done waking up.
But when Mr. Weasley stopped the car Harry looked around and his heart sank; they stood in front of Sirius' house, or at least the two houses beside it. When he thought of the address given by Dumbledore, Sirius' dark home appeared, shoving the other two houses aside. Slowly Harry walked inside, knowing the rest of the summer vacation wasn't going to be as great as it would have been at the Burrow.
Harry stayed awake for hours every night when he tried to fall asleep. It was really hard to drift off, for thoughts of Sirius came floating in and out of his mind, and whenever a happy memory of Sirius came, tears would streak down Harry's face and fall on his pillow. He often looked in the photo album he had received from Hagrid and thoughts would enter his mind of a life where Sirius was still alive and no longer accused of the murder he had never committed but had, instead, been Wormtail's fault.
Righteous fury flowed through Harry's body. Fury for the man that had ruined his life from the beginning, fury because not only did he not have his parents, but now he also didn't have a Godfather either, he had no family at all. 'At least you have three great friends, and you'll see the other two on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow, or at Hogwarts.' Hogwarts: his true home, the place where he was always welcome and where he always had the best time of his life. Hogwarts. With those thoughts he fell into a dreamless sleep, but agonizing pain stayed with him every second.
"No! Stop hitting her! Stop it! STOP!" Hermione screamed as her father slapped her mother hard. Her best friend, Nora, just stood in a corner and watched what Hermione had to put up with often this summer, though this was certainly not the usual behavior of Mr. Granger. It almost seemed as if someone had switched Hermione's father with an impostor that looked exactly the same, but acted differently.
Hermione watched her father, tears streaming down her face. She had no idea why he was acting this way. He had always been so nice when she was little. He had never shown any signs of violence until the beginning of this summer. Hermione looked at him and she could see the hurt in his eyes. The pain filled them to the brim. She just could not figure it out, it didn't matter how much she pained her brain, it was a complete, horrible, mystery to her: her father would be inquisitive about her and her school of magic and then somehow he ended up hitting her mother, but always looking like he didn't want to. But then why did he do it?
After a few minutes of being beaten, Mrs. Granger fell to the floor unconscious. "NO!" Hermione yelled and ran to her mother. 'Oh, thank god,' she thought, feeling a pulse. Mr. Granger hurried out of the house and into his car and then he drove away.
"Where is he going?" Nora asked softly, slowly walking over to Hermione, watching Mr. Granger drive off.
"He always does that. He'll come back in a few hours," Hermione answered quietly, not daring to look at her friend. "It's so strange. As if someone's forcing him. But this will give us a chance to call an ambulance for my mum."
"And what are you going to tell the doctors? That she got those bruises just from sitting?"
"No, we'll tell them that she… that she… we'll tell them that she fell down the stairs, ok? Please don't tell them my father did this, please, he doesn't mean to hit her. I can see it in his eyes. Usually he's just like he used to be, nice and caring, but then sometimes…" Hermione trailed off. "I know it's very strange, but please don't tell anyone," she begged. Nora sighed.
"Yes, fine. I'll keep my mouth shut," she said, looking encouragingly at her friend. Tears were already filling her eyes, and it wasn't even her father hitting her mother, but Hermione's.
Ten minutes later the ambulance arrived and took Hermione's mother to the hospital. Nora and Hermione had to stay at home but they would receive a call when the doctors had found out if Mrs. Granger was ok. It was the most horrible time of their lives… of course, at the time they didn't know things could get even worse.
"Well? What did they say? Is she all right?" Hermione asked Nora eagerly, but very anxiously. She had been too scared by what the doctors might say that she made Nora answer the phone.
"Your mum's in no danger at moment," Nora answered apprehensively.
"YES! She's fine! Thank God! But wait… why aren't you happy?" Hermione questioned, terrified of the answer.
"Er… well, she's in a coma…"
Twenty minutes later, when Hermione was still in shock, Nora was bustling around the Granger's kitchen making little ice packs for Hermione's bruises; she had taken a few hits from her father as well, but usually only by accident, it seemed. Even Nora had gotten a few hits from him, at times when he was most confused and befuddled, but she'd decided that she would still sleep over, to take care of Hermione. They were going to Hogwarts tomorrow anyway, and then they could get away for almost an entire year.
"You don't have to sleep over, you can go home if you want too," Hermione said hoarsely after fifteen minutes.
"No, that's ok, I'd rather stay here with you… unless you want to sleep over at my house? I can write my mother to send us some floo powder…" Nora's parents were both Muggle-born and had gone to Hogwarts, too, but they lived as normal Muggles, using their wands mostly for chores, like Mrs. Weasley does.
"I wish I could, but my stuff is here, and my dad would be furious if he found out I went out of the house at night without his permission, besides he's going to bring us to Kings Cross tomorrow, so we might as well stay," Hermione replied. Nora nodded understandingly, intending on staying with Hermione no matter what.
They went to bed a little while later. Though both of them couldn't sleep they didn't talk all night long as they usually did, but just stayed quiet, thoughts racing through their minds, feeling quite happy that they were going back to Hogwarts tomorrow.
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. (The chapters will get longer as the story proceeds.) Also Mr. Granger's weird behavior is explained in a later chapter and the first ten chapters of this story are more to get the whole thing started. After those it gets better and you'll see more of Harry, too.