Disclaimer: All recognized characters belong to the beloved J.K. Rowling. THANK YOU FOR FINALLY TELLING US WHEN THE FIFTH BOOK IS COMING OUT!!!!
A/N: Heh, I finally got another one up here. Dontcha all wove me now? ^_^ Please review it, else I'll die, and so will the story. x.x
Gone Over
Chapter One: The Beginning
~*~
Harry ran even harder. He had to run. He couldn't stop, not ever. He had to keep going, had to get away. He was too close to losing his self control, and he couldn't lose control. That would be what they wanted. That would be proving them right.
They could never be right.
"You dumb little idiot! Look what you did -"
They weren't right.
"Get up you little twerp! Breakfast needs to be ready for my Dudleykins in ten minutes! Hurry it up!"
They were wrong.
"You're worthless. A worthless, stupid boy!"
Always wrong.
"You're a good-for-nothing, rotten kid! Just like your parents!"
Never right. His parents were great.
"What are you doing, you freak!"
He was not a freak.
"What's this? Pictures of you're freak parents?"
His parents weren't freaks. They were wonderful.
"Put that away and get to work, you b*st*rd child."
He was not a bastard.
"I said get to work, you worthless boy!"
Always wrong.
Harry stopped running under a shady pine tree to catch his breath. He didn't know how long he had been running, but he did know that it had been a while. He didn't care though. All he knew was that he never wanted to go back, not ever. Not with those - those - creatures.
Harry looked around at his surroundings. He was in a forest somewhere. He didn't know where. He never bothered looking at muggle maps, not after he first received his Hogwarts Letter. After that he had seen it as he had found a home. A real home, and only during the summer months was he forced to stay at the prison known as Number Four at Privet Drive.
Harry sat down and leaned his back against the pine tree, resting. He decided he had to stop and think for a moment. He needed to decide what to do, now that he refused to stay with the Dursley's. Harry's eyes narrowed at the thought of the Dursley's and what they did.
"Go vacuum the parlour, boy." said Vernon Dursley. Harry just sat there and kept on looking at the photo album Hagrid had given him during his First Year.
"Did you hear me boy? I said go vacuum the parlour!" exclaimed Vernon, getting into Harry's face.
"I don't want to." Harry replied, "and if you make me, I'll just write to my godfather."
"Well, you know what I think of your godfather? This!" Vernon yelled, backhanding Harry which made him drop his photo album.
"What's this? Pictures of you're freak parents?" asked Uncle Vernon, picking up the photo album from off the floor. Harry didn't answer.
"Put that away and get to work, you b*st*rd child." Harry didn't move. He was trying to regain more self control, so he wouldn't accidentally use magic and get a notice from the Ministry of Magic.
"I said get to work, you worthless boy!" yelled Vernon. Harry glared at him and slowly got up.
"You know what, you've got a busy schedule today. Can't have you being distracted, can we?" asked Vernon with a malicious look in his eyes. He ripped page after page out of Harry's photo album, while Harry looked on in shocked horror.
Ripping.
Tearing.
Shredding.
Destroying.
Destroying one of Harry's few precious connections to his parents.
Gone. All gone.
And unseen wind gathered around Harry, making his already messy hair even more messy. Vernon Dursley slowly backed away in fear.
"You're the b*st*rd," Harry whispered in rage, "You are. Not me. You."
"Vernon, what is going -" Petunia Dursley gasped when she saw Harry.
"HOW DARE YOU DESTROY THE PICTURES OF MY PARENTS!!! WHAT RIGHT HAVE YOU TO DO SUCH A THING!!!" Harry yelled, magically making the wind he had unknowingly gathered around him push Vernon against the wall. Nearly glowing with rage, Harry made the wind pick Vernon up, and began to slowly draw the air out of his lungs.
"What are you doing, you freak!" screamed Petunia, running towards the suffocating Vernon.
Harry let go of the wind and Vernon fell. He stared, almost in a state of shock at Vernon and Petunia.
"Get out." Petunia whispered, then screaming, said, "GET OUT!!!"
Harry ran. Ran as far as he could.
Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He had thought that he understood why Tom Riddle had wanted to stay at Hogwarts over the summer holidays during his Second Year. Now he understood better than ever.
Tom Riddle.
Lord Voldemort.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
I am Lord Voldemort.
And it hit Harry.
For the first time since he had heard of Voldemort, Harry understood the why.
"Muggles don't understand us, so they become afraid. They fear our power, our abilities. That fear turns into anger, and so they become angry at us. After that, they hate us. Voldemort knows and understands this. He took that understanding to a terrible level, believing that all muggles were like this when that's not true. It's only most of them."
Harry pulled his knees close to his chest. Seeing a stick lay nearby, he grabbed it and began drawing in the ground. Rain began to drizzle lightly outside of the thick branches of the pine tree he sat under.
"But then again," he muttered while writing in the dirt, "It's Voldemort's fault I'm with the Dursley's anyway. If it hadn't been for him, I could still be living with my parents. I wouldn't be the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. I wouldn't be a name everyone recognized. I wouldn't be out here right now. Cedric would still be alive."
He stared blankly into the dirt he was doodling on. After a while, he didn't know how long, he noticed that it had started raining a little bit harder and that he had written out his full name on the dirt.
Harry James Potter
Under that, he had apparently been rearranging the letters. He didn't remember doing it, but there was another name under his, made from all the letters in his name.
Majesty Raethorp
"Majesty Raethorp," he said aloud. It sounded kind of stupid, so he said it again without pronouncing the 'p' at the end. He picked up his stick once more and wrote the word 'his' in front of the new name.
"His Majesty Raethorp." he said aloud. A name no one knew, unlike his current one.
He sighed and tried to go to sleep as the rain poured down harder.
*~*
Harry awakened to the sound of something knocking on wood. Without opening his eyes he sat up and murmured, "I'm coming, I'm coming."
He attempted to reach for his glasses, thinking that he was once again in his cupboard under the stairs, only to find his hand connecting with tree bark.
"What the - " he said and opened his eyes to find his glasses were on him. Well, half on him. Looking around, he saw he was in a forest, and for a moment couldn't remember why he was there. Then the memories came flooding back.
He couldn't return.
I'm a bloody 16-year-old wizard, wandless and alone, in the muggle world. Now what am I supposed to do!?
He noticed that his writing and doodling from last night were still visible, if only just.
The rain must have washed most of it away
He stood up and stretched while his bones creaked and muscles groaned in protest. Massaging the shoulder he had fallen asleep on, he scuffled his sneakers against the dirt, destroying all remnants of his being there. A dew drop fell on his nose and he wiped it away. He sniffed his arm and grimaced.
"Merlin, do I need a shower or what?"
Sighing, Harry started the long trek back to the Dursleys. He didn't want to go back, but he needed to get his wand, among other important things. The number one on his List of Important Things to Get was a shower. Cracking his back, Harry broke out into a jog and started to think at the same time. What would he do when he reached the Dursley's? Well, he couldn't show up when they were at home. He'd have to wait till they left. They kept a spare key hidden by the door in case the usual one got lost or bent or something. But what after that? He couldn't possibly fit all his wizarding things in one of Dudley's muggle book bags without using magic. And if he wanted to dissappear for a while, at least until start of the new term, then there was no way he could use magic whatsoever. Harry began to make a list of things he would be able to fit in a book bag in his mind. Some muggle clothes would definitely be needed. Other necessities, like toothbrush and toothpastes and stuff would be important as well.
Harry stopped suddenly, realizing where he was. He had already made it back to Privet Drive. Had he really been jogging that long? He looked at his watch. He had been running for nearly two hours. Amazing how time can fly when you're preoccupied. It was around noon time, so he quickly went to Number Four, taking careful precautions to make sure he wasn't seen, and hid in the bushes. The Dursley's car was still in the driveway. How long would he have to wait till they left?
Not long apparently. It appeared that the Dursley's decided to go out for lunch.
Probably in celebration of my leaving.
Harry looked on bitterly as the Dursley's pulled out of the driveway and sped away. He waited a full ten minutes to make sure the neighbours would have gone back to whatever they were doing, and to make sure that the Dursley's hadn't forgotten something to make them come back and find him. Looking both ways, he grabbed the hidden house key and quickly unlocked the door and went inside. He locked it back up again in case the two Pigs and the Giraffe came home while he was still there. He ran up to the second floor and headed for his room. Grabbing some clean clothes, he immediately headed for the shower.
He shed his dirty clothes and turned the shower faucet and jumped right in, not even bothering to warm it up first. Harry gasped as the ice cold water hit his flesh. There was no time for luxuries. He didn't know when the Dursley's would be back and couldn't risk getting caught.
That was the Cardinal Rule of the Moment: Don't risk getting caught.
Harry finished washing the grime out of his hair and off his body, and quickly jumped out. He shivered for a moment and grabbed a towel to dry himself. Getting dressed, he left the bathroom to find a book bag. Harry didn't bother drying his hair.
Looking in Dudley's room, Harry wrinkled his nose. He had thought his cousin was a pig before, but if he'd had any doubts (which he hadn't) they were blown away with this sight. Dudley's clothes were strewn about the floor, with candy wrappers covering whatever parts of the floor would have been seen. The bed wasn't made and the tv and computer were still on, along with all the lights. Carefully, Harry made sure not to step on any candy wrappers, which left only the clothes to step on. He made his way to the closet and opened it, jumping out of the way just in time as a pile of things came tumbling out. Harry shook his head. How could anyone live like this? Not even he and Ron were this messy!
Must be a muggle thing.
Harry picked through the pile of things and finally found Dudley's book bag. He dumped everything that was in it, which happened to be candy wrappers and nothing more, out onto Dudley's already invisible floor. Harry left the horrific room and went back to his own. Setting the book bag on his bed, he grabbed some clothes, rolled them up so they were small and shoved them in the book bag, all the while straining his ears so he could hear if the Dursley's car pulls up. He finished putting his clothes in and paused, thinking of what else he might need.
Money.
Of course, how could he be so stupid as to forget money? Harry ran down the stairs to his old 'bedroom', the cupboard under the stairs. Picking the lock, he grabbed the trunk and dragged it up to the smallest bedroom. Taking all of the books out of it, he opened the loosened floor board and put his books in there. Almost as an afterthought, he stuck his quills and his robes in there as well as his Firebolt, although he did so reluctantly. His wand he kept with him. No sense in being defenceless with Voldemort after you. He took out all the money he had in there and put it in his book bag. He'll have to somehow get to Gringotts, without being seen, and change it to pounds. If Harry was to dissappear, he would have to disappear into the muggle world. It would be too easy to catch him if he stayed in the wizarding world.
He walked down the stairs dragging the now empty trunk behind him. He put the trunk back under the cupboard, carefully making it so it appeared as if it had never been moved. Harry had just finished arranging it when he heard a car door slam and the keys begin to turn.
Oh sh*t.
He quickly closed the cupboard door and laid on top of his trunk, a most uncomfortable position, and quieted his breathing.
Merlin above, don't let them find me.
"What a fine day it is Dudley!" exclaimed a voice that was unmistakebly Vernon Dursley's. Harry clenched his teeth and slowly counted backwards from 100.
"I want more food!" exclaimed Dudley. Harry could see a fake pout on his chubby face already.
"There's some in the kitchen, Duddykins. Why don't you go get some ice cream, okay sweetie?" asked Petunia. As soon as Dudley was apparently out of earshot, not that the boy ever listened in the first place, Petunia asked, "Do you think he'll come back?"
"No, that boy is as good as dead, - "
86, 85, 84, 83...
" - he won't come back here if he knows what's good for him."
Okay, maybe a hundred isn't big enough. 1,000, 999, 998...
"MUM!!! I CAN'T FIND THE ICE CREAM!!!" yelled Pig Boy from the kitchen.
"Coming honey!" called Petunia as Harry heard her footsteps walk away, followed by Vernon's, "and bring out the Port! This is a special occasion!"
989, 988, 987, 986...
Harry counted a couple of more numbers, not just to calm himself but to make sure they didn't walkout as he came out of the cupboard. He opened the door quickly so the hinges wouldn't have time to squeak, rolled off the trunk and onto the floor and quickly closed the cupboard door back up. Harry paused to listen for any footsteps then made his way up to his room like a speeding, silent cat. He zippered up the book bag and silently creeped downstairs. The lower he got, the louder the Dursley's laughter would get, and the more bitter Harry's face became.
Worthless lot, the bunch of them. Family of Pigs and a Giraffe.
He was about to walk out the door, when Dudley's coat caught his eye. Harry smirked and took that as well. He would need it more than Dudley.
Dudley doesn't need a coat anyway. All that blubber should be more than enough to keep Pig Boy warm.
Harry gave Number Four of Privet Drive one last grim smile before he walked out the door.
As Harry walked down the road an American muggle verse came to mind. He didn't know where he learned it from, but it kept going over and over in his mind.
Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almightly, I'm free at last.
A/N: wow…..nearly six full pages for one chappie! @.@ That now sets the standard for it too. x.o Remember dearest readers, thou must reviewith or I die-ith! x.x