Summary: Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts is filled with taunting dreams and dark secrets. Sirius' death fresh in his mind and bleeding in his heart, he finds his body taking the abuse for his pain as he blames himself. Harry Potter has fallen on hard times and this time he is not able to stand back up on his own, doesn't have the strength to stand back on his own. How will he ever be able to get back up, how will he ever find his strength again to continue to battle against Voldemort whose power is growing at a rapid rate? Plus what's with the new transfer student in Slytherin house following Harry around for? A beautiful new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has come to Hogwarts, but the question is will they make it through the year or do they have a secret agenda like all the others? Find out in the story Longing to be Found.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit off this story… Besides, I doubt if I did own Harry Potter I could make seven books or even if I did they wouldn't even be a third as good as they are. Plus there would be pairing changes, character personalities wouldn't be the same, and some would be so scared it wouldn't even be funny; defiantly would not have been a children's book. I do however own the two OC's in this story and would greatly appreciate it if you did not copy them.
Warnings: DARK! Contains mature content and adult themes not suitable for young children, slash (male/male relationships beyond friendship), non-con (rape), strong language, PWP at times, self mutilation, self gratification (masturbation), OOCness, AU…
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!...
Rated:M/NC-17
Drama/Angst
Longing to be Found…
By: TwilightKitsune1
Chapter One (1)
- Losing Self -
The days seemed to rush passed this summer at number four, Privet Drive. The daily routines of life there was a constant reminder of how alone one truly was. After the summer school would begin, but not many looked forward to it… there was one person who wasn't looking forward too much of anything anymore.
The sun was setting; its rays the color of fresh blood, its light beginning to fade away behind the tree lines. The sky that had earlier been filled with light was too becoming darkened by the on coming of night. Stars already coming out to dance in the sky with the moon that had yet to appear, and there was beautiful flickering of the lightning bugs; there were dull lights in the distance, the streetlights, springing to life to give some light for the oncoming night. It was the normal silence on Magnolia one would expect, a silent melody of crickets, or the occasional croak from a frog, maybe a gently meow in the distance from a stray cat, or yelp from a stray dog. A soft, not over powering, smell of freshly cut grass drifted around, hardly noticeable to the nose.
Harry Potter, the most famous wizard of the age, sat in a secluded part of the park on an old and rusting swing set that had yet to be torn down and replaced. He sat; his head leaned on to the rough, rusting metal chain that was slightly flaking off onto his face and shirt. One hand lightly grasping the chain his head was resting on, and his other hung limp by his side. There was not much in the surrounding area; nor was it spacious. It was just a forgotten part of the new park, off out of the way where one could sit and be alone, but not enough privacy to do much more due to the surrounding houses and such. There were trees, and the grass seemed like it was cut but not often enough to make it clear. There were old toys, destroyed by outside forces and age, that littered the ground, shoes with the laces tied together hung from the old tree. Harry had always loved it here when he found it at the age of six. He could get away from the Dursley's and Dudley, so he could be alone and not stuck in a small closet that made him feel like a prisoner… He hated that feeling, he knew he was a prisoner, and thought he'd never be free of them. If he was a prisoner they had control, he could do nothing but suffer, take his punishment quietly and with no complaints, or suffer more.
His eyes had glazed, and became unfocused as he looked into the distance. He could feel eye's prying into his back; he could feel them as if he saw them. He knew someone was watching him but at the moment all worry, caution, and fear was completely out of his mind. He ignored his senses screaming at him that there was someone watching him. That his guard needed to be back up.
He didn't see the coming night, dancing stars, or the flickering lights of the beautiful lightning bugs or the dull streetlights springing to life, no he saw flashes of the curses and the hexes that were used in the Ministry as they flew all around him. He heard no gentle melody the crickets played or the occasional frogs croak, not even the faint meow or yelp of stray's, no he listened to the screams of those who fought around him, there spells that they uttered quickly, and there were those who were suffering around him. He just watched, with Neville Longbottom by his side, as Dumbledore arrived to help them and push Voldemort's forces back… As it got darker, the darker Harry's memories became, and turning toward Sirius they soon did.
Harry remembered his joy at finally getting out of that place that had been his prison growing up, and then again when he should have been free. He could see how Sirius came to life; feeling as though he was finally being allowed a good fight after all his suffering. He seemed so young, years falling off his face as the fighting went on… Then there was shock, there was fear, he was falling… Falling away from Harry, far away from Harry, to a place Harry wouldn't be able to follow. A veil appeared center stage in Harry's mind, flapping in a non-existent wind, engulfing Sirius behind it. Swallowing him whole and not spiting him out…Harry stared at the veil for a long while, it was Lupin that pulled him from his trance, explained the truth to Harry; Sirius was dead… he was dead and it was Bellatrix fault! He was furious, anger filling his being, blind rage, and he craved revenge… He craved the satisfaction of killing her with his own hands, with his own power. No one else could do it; no one else was allowed to do it… His anger stopped and turned to self-hatred, it wasn't her fault, or anyone else's; it was his…Sirius was dead because of Harry. Yet for the time being he was chasing that wench. He could blame her, hate her, kill her. Just for this instant Harry was willing to kill an innocent just to make himself feel at peace… and for some odd reason he didn't care to murder those who were innocent yet evil.
He was brought out of his thoughts when the once vacant swing beside him became occupied. It groaned and creaked under the new weight. His eyes instantly refocused, his head turning to the new comer, and his once limp hand jumping to life and rushing toward his hidden wand. His movements froze for an instant as he looked at a tiered looking Mrs. Figg sitting beside him.
"Mrs. Figg…What are you doing here?" Harry asked, forcing a smile on his face, his hand inching closer to his wand just incase it was a trick just like with Moody during his fourth year. Thinking of that year brought a pain to him. His fault.
"The real question Harry is, what are you doing here? It is late you should be getting home, nearly ten already and your still out acting like a hooligan I bet." Mrs. Figg complained. "Here I am walking back from the store with some new cat food for my babies and then I look into the park and find you sitting in it not doing anything but staring into space. You are a lazy boy aren't you, need to learn responsibility."
Harry cringed; Mrs. Figg was reminding him of – "WHAT TIME IS IT?"
"Nearly ten's what I said; you also need to be learning how to listen too. Your elders boy, listen to them when they're speaking to you!" Mrs. Figg stared at his frightened face for a moment before she shock her head, "I'll take you home with me, and speak to those Dursley's tomorrow if you would like… Maybe we could speak tonight Harry, just talk about things; I can tell you all about my babies that just had babies themselves." She smiled for a moment. "Besides, you've been stuck in that house for most of the summer so far. You haven't even come over to help me anymore…" Mrs. Figg looked sad for a moment then her stern look came back to her face as though it had never left, so Harry chalked it up to his imagination.
Harry sighed; she was the first to even want to talk things all summer long… No one else cared, and his uncle knew Sirius was gone and his punishment, his suffering, had returned to how it used to be back to before he was in school, but so much more. Maybe she could tell someone from the order, maybe they could relay the message of 'help me' to Dumbledore.
As he was about to, he saw an image of Cedric and Sirius for an instant in his head smiling at him, and the intention of asking for help was gone and replaced by the fact that they were dead because of him. They were no longer alive because they became involved with him and he could only watch as they died. He was alone because he acted with out thinking first. He deserved everything he was getting, and more then that.
A sigh escaped his hold; it was a sigh of pain and sorrow, but Mrs. Figg didn't notice it, she just looked at Harry patently. "No…I'm fine. You guys shouldn't worry about me; you might get grey hairs if you're not careful." Harry said, slightly forcing a smirk to Mrs. Figg.
An actual chuckle escaped her lips and she looked at Harry with happy eyes, "I was worried about you Harry, you haven't smiled all summer and we were beginning to worry about you… And grey hairs are the least of our worries right now anyway."
Harry stood from the swing and looked at Mrs. Figg for a moment. She did seem to be getting older, she was much older then his young eyes remember her, the crazy cat lady who would take care of him while he was little. Though she always seemed old to him, those wrinkles were getting a little more defined, and the idea of her being able to live the rest of her old life out where there is no Voldemort and no reason to hide from the night, made him wonder.
"Thanks Mrs. Figg." Was all that he said as he made his way back to number four, Privet Drive. On his way out of the park, taking the short cut into the ally, he did not notice that his path was close to pitch black and hard to see down, but he knew the quick ways back to number four, Privet Drive by heart, learned out of fear. He also failed to notice that Mrs. Figg stayed seated on the old and rusting swing set, slightly moving forwards and backwards as she watched him go.
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As Harry reached the door he began to reconsider Mrs. Figg's offer. Shaking his head to steal his determination he began to move toward the door when suddenly he saw a faint light come to life in the kitchen. Thinking it might just be his Aunt Petunia since she comes into the kitchen at night just to see if there's anything suspicious going on next door. If he went back there and if it were her she'd let him in with an angry look and just tell Uncle Vernon tomorrow before he went to work… but if it was Dudley it might be tricky. Thinking it easier then trying to come in the front way he silently walked to the back. As he reached the door he gave three soft knocks so not to draw outside attention to himself.
He glanced around him to make sure no one was around, and no one followed him here. It was completely dark out now and the only light was coming from dull streetlights, but they weren't very bright in the first place. There was no movement from other houses and all lights were off except for a TV down the road behind lacy curtains. Other then that there was nothing else visible except for shadows and black outlines of unknown origin. As the footsteps came closer to the door Harry looked forward, his heart jerked. It was neither Aunt Petunia, nor Dudley. It was the one he didn't want to catch him out this late with everyone else asleep. Fear gripped him and stole his strength away as the door slightly opened and he saw eyes look around outside until they landed on him, stopping and becoming sadistic all at once. His breath left him as he felt himself being pulled into the kitchen.
The world around him was a blur and he could not feel a thing. Suddenly reality hit, as well as the counter's corner into his back. Then he remembered, Vernon was the one in the empty kitchen, looking down at Harry with sadistic eyes outside he had grabbed him and quickly threw him into whatever he could in that instant. Harry's body was shacking from the abuse it had just received and as he shakily began to rise off the tiled floor, a foot connected with his elbow, pushing it in the wrong direction. That action was quickly followed by a snap, pop noise. Harry's elbow was now in intense pain making him drop back down to the floor and cling to it, cradling it against his chest. Tears stung his eyes, but Harry quickly pushed them away. He would not cry about this, will not cry about this. As he was bout to try and get up again the foot came back and connected with his chest, his ribs, his stomach, his legs, anywhere that could be hidden under clothes.
After half an hour or so he began to start breathing harder, Harry stayed still in the fetal position. It was soon going to end he hoped, he'd start to get tiered, won't do anything that makes him seem "unusual" or a "freak" if the others are still here. Only beat him and then leave him there all night depending on how bad it is. If Harry didn't move, didn't breath, then there wasn't any pain. He was close to unconsciousness. So close to it that it seemed like a blessing to come now. Harry could feel the sweet oblivion coming until he felt something cold and wet hit him. He felt as though he had been punched as his breath was stolen away by the cold.
Vernon wasn't going to lose his play toy so soon tonight, no the night had only just begun. He gripped Harry's hair tight, and pulled it so hard Harry could have sworn he'd have ripped it out had Harry not gone up with the quick jerk to his head. His body was protesting with every movement, every breath, and now with the cold water collecting over his wounds, with every slight breeze, every movement, pains in the smallest amount hit him in waves. His body was battered and his mind was screaming. It was coming, the pain, the humiliation, every thing he hated that Uncle Vernon pushed on him because he didn't want it was coming, it was coming and the worst part was there was nothing he could do about it.
Harry was shoved up against the wall and Vernon leaned in close to Harry's ear, whispering to him, "You know what's coming…" Harry could smell the horrid stench on his breath. So foul and disgusting and laced with a strong scent of alcohol, like nothing he'd ever smelled before, just that smell made him want to gage. As he was fighting with his stomach and how it so desperately wanted to release its contents, he felt his wand removed from his pocket and heard it fall to the ground a little bit away. Tears now began to leak from his eyes, not many, only one or two. Harry couldn't hold back his body's desire to shake and shiver from the pain, hatred, and fear. He was treated unkindly, and he felt it all as this disgusting man defiled him again. His hands exploring everywhere he heard him speak to him again as he harshly turned Harry to face him, "They abandon those they don't need…"
All that went through his head was why, he was supposed to be safe, supposed to be protected… but this was happening a lot more often then it used to.
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Hours of the night must have ticked by before Harry found himself alone. He had passed out from the pain and probably due to his body's sudden assault from his uncle that rushed him into unconsciousness as soon as it was able to. As he got up, a little shaky on his legs, he found himself thankful for the fact that his body was already healing itself much like he used to. He looked around him for a moment and found his clothes to be in a pile in the corner. So on unsteady legs he walked over to his belongings, got dressed and put his wand back into his pocket, when he finished his legs were becoming strong again so he walked up the stairs, tightly holding onto the side rail just incase he couldn't walk properly up the stairs, which happens sometimes after nights like these. As he passed the room to his aunt and uncle's bedroom he heard his uncle's snoring, happily into the night, as if nothing had happened only a few moments ago. All Harry wished was that what had happened was a dream, unreal, and he was just now sneaking into the house… but he knew it wasn't like that, it had happened, and since it wasn't the first time he knew it wouldn't be the last.
As he entered his room and collapsed onto the bed he found his body not in as much pain as it had been earlier. Turning his head slightly to the side he reached over and turned on the only sources of light in his room, which was the lamp he had fixed a few years ago. When the light in his room came on he examined his injures and found that his elbow swollen, looking as though there was an orange under his skin, and became extremely difficult to move, thankfully it wasn't broken. His stomach was covered in strange colored and swollen areas, one of his ribs was pointing out at an odd angle, and there were dark and ugly looking bruises covering most of his chest. On his legs he found that they were bruising in dark colors and one of his knees was almost as swollen as his elbow, but not as bad. He'd heal in a couple days so there would be no evidence of the events that had passed just a little bit ago. All of them, that is, except for his rib that was pointing out at a strange angle. He'd have to come up with an excuse for it. He'd probably tell anyone who asked about it he'd fallen down some stairs or something… His brain was too tired to think of anything else as an excuse, so he'd think about it tomorrow. He had to smirk to himself as he reached up to turn the lamp off; he was probably going to use the oldest excuse there is when you get beat up. He was becoming so pathetic.
As he was half way to turning the light off, he saw two shadows in his room that wasn't there when he had left earlier that day. Turning to find out what it was he found it to be Hedwig and Pig perched on his windowsill, watching him as he moved. There eyes were staring right at his injures he had just covered back again. Harry could have sworn he saw Hedwig's eyes flash with Pig's. They were holding letters addressed to him in their beaks, waiting for him to take them from them.
Moving as quickly as he dared with his unsteady legs and aching body, he went to them and collected the notes in their beaks. He gave both of them a pat on the head and fetched them treats from his closet. As he passed his bed he laid the letters on it, gave them their treats and fetched them some water. When he had finished attending to the two of them and they were happily drinking at their shared drink, for once Hedwig was not giving Pig looks of disapproval, Harry went back to the two letters from his friends.
As he finished his skin had become pale and his stomach again asking to be drained of all its contents. Harry obliged to its wishes and rushed to his trash bin. After a few moments he fell backwards and laid on the floor and watched as the two owls flew around hooting, upset because he had become upset. Hedwig landed by his side and Pig landed a little further away from Harry and just watched, slightly bouncing toward his legs. Hedwig hooted softly, comfortingly, and jumped to Harry's chest. Looking down at him, Harry saw that there was worry in her eyes.
Slightly smiling he scratched under her beak for a moment and smiled up at her. "I'm alright Hedwig… I had just forgotten that today was my birthday."
THE END OF CHAPTER ONE!
A/N: There it is, a chapter to one of the first stories I ever did, much better and re-written till I can re write it no more. I wanted to go back and fix it up since the first time the story came out the chapters were a little… yeah… but I think their better then they were, stronger. I know there wasn't much story here but hey this is only the beginning and I needed what I put in here to build on you know. I truly hope you liked it, tell me what you think, and thanks for reading!