Disclaimer: Harry Potter solely belongs to Ms. Rowling. No profit or infringement intended.
Warning: Mature sexual content and severe use of vulgarity.
Grammatical and spelling errors are all my doing.
Prologue
He planned it. He planned it well. In fact, it was so good that none of them, not even his faithful enemy, had the slightest idea. No, none of them knew that their Golden Boy, their Saviour, their Chosen One, the Boy who Lived, Harry Potter, was going insane. Insane. Nope, that doesn't seem to fit right. Mental better suits it. Yes, he was mental. He was bloody well out of his mind.
But Harry Potter couldn't care less. And he was proud of it.
The point is it just didn't matter anymore. Why? Harry hated questions, specifically that one. He'd been asking himself all his life. Why? Why? Why? But Harry had an answer now. He had the answer all along. The most honest answer he could ever come up with: Because the world was just one big bloody wanker.
Harry Potter. That name could've been ordinary, it could've been a name someone normally forgets at first encounters. It could've been as simple as Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, hell, even Dudley Dursley. But no, it just had to be swarmed all over everybody's heads. Every single kid just had to know that name like it was some fucking historical embeddings on a relic meant to be praised. Harry Potter just had to be the Boy who bloody Lived.
The Boy who Lived. Pathetic title. What if he turned out to be a girl? The Girl who Lived? Bloody hell, that was just… terrible in the most terrifying way you can express it.
No. He didn't want to be that bloody Boy who bloody Lived. He just wanted to be like everybody else. A boy. A normal boy. But no. Harry Potter isn't allowed to be normal. No. He had to have the most melodramatic life anyone could ever come up with. He just had to lose his parents at age one. Then, he just had to live with the worst mixture of obese and anorectic relatives, the only blood-relatives he has left, so as to add that little spice of sadness in his childhood. But, of course, the drama just wasn't enough. He'd just had to be given a godfather with a tragic history whom, by the way, he'd also lost. And now, the one man he truly trusted, the only man he wished to cling on, is now dead. Like all the others.
Why were they all floating up the bloody clouds? Simple. Because they were Harry Potter's bloody family. And we all know who Harry Potter's supposed to be. Harry Potter is our hero. He's supposed to fight against that scary sadistic snake-man and make the world all bright and beautiful like a fucking miracle.
And that was it, that was all everybody saw. The golden hero with his beautiful golden title, shimmering for everybody to see.
And that's why Harry made a plan. A plan to fool everybody. A plan that will simply turn their little smiles to frowns. This time, Harry will be the one smiling. Not that there's anything to smile at what he's about to do. He knew that. He can almost predict the headlines of the Daily Prophet, he's just going to face the same media, the same scandals and rumors, which, this time, will ought to be true.
But Harry Potter didn't care. To hell what other people think. To hell with the Wizarding world. To hell with the whole world.
True, Harry's about to betray everyone who trusted him, everyone who believed in him. But hey, if not for that stupid prophecy, those people wouldn't be there at all. They can all go drown in the Pacific with their hopes and expectations shoved down their throats for all he cared.
So here was the famous Harry Potter. Mr. Golden Boy. Smiling to himself like the lunatic he is. All thanks to his special plan.
One particular thing Harry really liked about his plan is he didn't have to pack one bloody thing.
"Well Hedwig. It's up to you now; come with me," Harry opened the front door of the empty Dursley residence and placed the birdcage on the welcome mat. "Or go free." He said, unlocking the cage for the alabaster-feathered owl.
Dearest Hedwig only hoot at the deserted street of Privet Drive and glanced at her smiling master with wide, bugging eyes then back at the dimly lit lane. Harry felt a pang as his pet sprang off her cage and flew with wide wings. Harry could talk to snakes, but not to owls, nevertheless Harry knew Hedwig caught the idea of his plan. It was only common for Hedwig to go against it. Harry couldn't really blame her, anyone who's got a brain and a heart would surely leave him at this state of mentality.
Then again, his smile came back as soon as it left. And so did Hedwig. The bird, now having a rodent between its beak, landed on Harry's shoulder and snuggled closely as she happily consumed the poor thing.
"You do know he's going to kill you too, don't you?" the owl only scuffed her head on her wings, as if shrugging to Harry. "Alright. Come on. Let's get you fed, we've got an hour before the Order arrives."
"And we better not be here when they do, don't we?" with that, Harry Potter closed the door and fed his owl, giving himself the pleasure of eating a feast of leftovers the Dursleys had forgotten about. It wasn't all that bad. At least he didn't have to sneak down to get bits and bits to stop the starving. No, not this time. This time, he's going to act as though the place was his.
After a well-stuffed dinner, Harry honored himself one last tour of the house. As he swept to each room, he invited a memory or two of the misery and hopelessness that suffocated him dry before. Memories he'd tried hard to ignore, to forget. It was easier recalling them than pushing them away. All Harry's worst memories were lingering here, they still had that thick stench of cruelty. And as Harry Potter entered the cupboard he once lived his young life in, itching from the sturdy dusts and aching from the lack of space, he felt the need to weep a few tears for that child. Yes, that child was still here, still haunting the ragged blankets, still deepening the words he'd carved on his little room. Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. He'd carved it several times after his first term at Hogwarts, it had to be on a spot where that blasted aunt of his wouldn't notice but still could be visible for him to see and remind him of who he really is.
Touching the engravings on the ceiling did it, Harry didn't have to kneel up to reach it, he'd gotten bigger, all he had to do was stretch his arm. Feeling the wood and the marks of his name brought back that boy and Harry started crying. He wanted to reach out for this little Harry and just strangle him with a tight embrace and just tell him everything will be over, everything will be alright. But he couldn't, because if he did, he would be lying to little Harry. And Harry had enough of lies. He had enough of it. The last thing he wanted was to lie to himself.
Hedwig appeared and glided on Harry's lap, watching those fat droplets fall down her owner's eyes with such curiosity that Harry had to laugh at her. "What'd you know, Hedwig, I end up where I came in ten years ago." said Harry, resting his head against his crossed arms. His worst experiences and memories sprouted here, in this very space where he'd spent lonely nights as a child. But Harry nearly wished he could stay inside, for he'd already conquered his fears within these four dusty walls; the spiders by the corners of the crooked ceiling who'd often cover him with their sticky webs, the white ants who'd nearly chewed away his toy soldiers, even Dudley's footsteps thumping during nights that often gave Harry nightmares that consist of a fat and ugly troll rummaging the kitchen fridge after ever late hour was no more but a sad echo. Hedwig hopped up Harry's chest and watched him. "I never thought I would even think of coming back in this dusty shithole." continued Harry, freeing his one arm to pet the owl. "But since I am going mental, it's only right I visit it one last time. Right?" green eyes gave a questioning glance at big, round, glowing ones. "Right." sighed Harry.
Five minutes later, and only half an hour before his Order rescuers arrive, Harry Potter came walking down the Dursleys' backyard, glaring at Aunt Petunia's dear flowers but started smiling as he opened the fence door, which, to Ruffus, is a welcoming entrance. Ruffus, an ugly bulldog with a nasty tantrum, loved to play with flowers and by playing, he meant demolishing. Ecstatic by the very though itself, Harry purposely left the backdoor open, just in case the flowers didn't reach up to Ruffus' delight. Aunt Petunia had a beautiful collection of expensive vases with those fancy flower designs in the living room. Ruffus would surely enjoy playing with those.
"Have fun, Ruffus." Harry muttered to himself with delight before mounting on his broom and disappearing under his Invisibility Cloak. "Ready Hedwig?" breathed Harry under the cloak, the owl only responded with a shuffle of her wings and tried to cling on the broom securely, scooting behind a bit to get a better stance beneath Harry's chest. Hedwig really didn't fancy falling off.
"Got my wand, broom, cloak… Hedwig," Harry quietly reminded himself, trying to avoid the feathery head of his owl. "And myself." He said finally. Seconds later, the Firebolt was airborne.
:: :: :: :: ::
Rubeus Hagrid appeared after lifting the Disillusionment charm and mounting off the motorcycle he'd used to take Harry with when the lad was just a tad size of his hand. Twelve others followed suit, either descending from brooms or alighting from thestrals. Not one word escaped anyone's lips at the sight they all held.
Fence door, open. Back door, open. House, empty. Harry, gone.
All eyes glanced at each other. Worried. Suspicious. Frightened. Confused. But one thought ran to each and everyone's mind; something was terribly, terribly wrong.
"Search the house, all the rooms." Moody first broke the silence.
"Homenum Revelio." A flash of light rose from the tip of Hermione's wand, and as the caster lifted her arm, the light became a luminous wave, rapidly dashing throughout the whole kitchen until it reached the corners. Everyone around Hermione began glowing, indicating all the humans present in the room.
Few of the men; Ron, Bill, the twins and Mr. Weasley vanished from the room and began scanning the rest of the house.
"Use the Stealth Sensoring charm." Lupin advised before the others began roaming around the residence. "Any detecting spells you know of. Certain charms don't work on Invisibility Cloaks, at least, the kind that Harry has." He added before casting the spell himself nonverbally and, like Hermione, finding nothing.
"Call Figgs, he might be there, search her house too." Ordered Moody to Tonks who complied, taking Fleur and Kingsley with her.
"Blimey, where can the lad be?" Hagrid said after inspecting the back yard, seems the only place he could fit in rather than the kitchen. No one could answer or even make a suggestion.
"He's not in his room, but all his stuff's there. It didn't look like he'd plan on packing." said Ron after several minutes.
"What about his wand? His cloak?" Hermione received an answer she wasn't really hopping for. "Even Hedwig's cage is empty." Ron added after shaking a 'no' to the bushy-haired girl.
The other redheaded Weasleys all came back with no such luck as well.
"All the other rooms are empty, no clothes, no personal things." Mr. Weasley said, summarizing all the other boys' answers.
"Except Harry's…" Hermione muttered, her fingers began trembling furiously. Ron approached her and held them tightly and softly dragging her to a warm embrace.
"He's not there. We've checked all her rooms. Figgs said she saw him an hour before we got here." Tonks fell silent for a moment and thought about how she can elaborate the old lady's strange description earlier.
"Well?" barked an impatient Moody.
"Well… She said that she saw Harry standing in the front door with his owl. She said that it looked like Harry was setting it free but it didn't, it just flew out and back to Harry's shoulder… and then he went back in." The room and its occupants where all muffled with odd silence. Eyes were lingering at Tonks with strange looks and narrowed gazes.
"Did she hear anything? Any noise that might bloody explain why the boy isn't here?" Moody asked again, obviously not contended with what Tonks found.
"N-no." Tonks stuttered, the fright in her eyes clearly visible from Moody's temper. "She didn't." she whispered, feeling helpless.
"B—LOODY HELL!" almost everybody twitched from Moody's sudden outburst. The loud stomping of his cane still echoing the room.
"Get that bloody woman in here!" Tonks disappeared as soon as it escaped Moody's lips.
Minutes later, Mrs. Figg was seating at the Dursleys' kitchen. All twelve set of eyes starring at her, each running different emotions. Moody, she had to admit, had a pretty strong emotion. Mrs. Figg was nervous that his glare might melt her, metaphorically speaking, of course.
"Well? Speak up, woman!" Figg literally bounced from her chair.
"Moody, calm your damn temper, will you? It's not doing any good to anybody." Lupin just had to say. "Go ahead, Mrs. Figg, tell us what you need to tell us." He said after receiving a grumpy nod from a fuming Mad Eye.
"Al-alright. W-well. I— I saw 'im standing in th-that door over there." A wrinkly, quivering finger pointed at the front door. "He-he had his pet bird in a cage with him… and he opened the cage and—"
"Yes, yes, Figg. We know that bloody part already, did you hear the boy speak about anything?" Moody was practically red at that time.
"Well… I was looking outside the w-window. You can't really hear anything across the— the street with the window c-close." Mrs. Figg, the poor old lady, was literally jerking every moment Moody leaned closer with his swiveling blue eye.
"I checked the sensors. There hasn't been any intruders in the house since Dumbledore set it active." Kingsley interrupted as he walked in.
"Figg, did you see anybody else come in after that? Anybody passing by the streets?" Moody asked stiffly. The woman could only reply with a shaking head. "Not a noise? A sound? Any damn thing?" she responded the same answer.
"Merlin… Are yeh all tha' thick?" it was Mundugus who spoke. All twelve heads turn to him. "Even a bloody horklump can tell what 'appened."
"Mind elaborating on that?" said Bill, his face scrunching with disgust as he glared at the scruffy man. The scar viciously clawed on his face only made it worse.
"Don' 'ave to, boy. It's all glued on everybody's 'eads. Nobody just got the grits to say it ou' loud." The man walked towards the refrigerator.
"You're not saying that Harry left alone." Hermione started all of a sudden. "We had this planned. He knew we're supposed to be here to fetch him! He knew!" Ron was now trying to get a hold on a sobbing Hermione.
"Tha's right. He knew. Maybe tha's why he left."
"Why in bloody hell would Harry do that?" demanded Bill.
"Well maybe the damn boy had had enough. Ever think o' that?"
"Stop it, Flecher, you shut that bloody mouth of yours." Ron spat back, collecting Hermione within his arms.
"Wherever tha' boy is, one thing's for sure, he's stuffed." Mundugus smirked, swinging the frig door wide open for everyone to witness the empty bottles and containers.
"No. 'Arry couldn't have ran off. Why would he?" Hagrid began.
"Me'be hez wid othzer neighbrz?" Fleur suggested.
"But why would he leave the house when he knows we're coming for him?" said Fred.
"Fred's got a point there." George added. "So did Krecher, he's a git and all, but he's right. What if Harry left on purpose?"
"Where are you going with this, George? You think Harry ran off because he's given up?" Mr. Weasley said.
"What if he did, dad? I mean, we have to consider the facts, don't we?" replied George. "The house is empty. No wand. No cloak. Food's gone. For all we know, Harry might be halfway out of Surrey by now, on a bus or some muggle car."
"Or a broom." Fred added, causing all eyes to shot his direction.
"His broom. Ron, did you see his broom?" Hermione said suddenly, her fingers clinging tightly on Ron's sweater.
"I— I didn't notice." Ron stuttered, feeling uneasy with the sudden flick of attention. "I'll go look." He said before sprinting off the room.
"Question is why did he leave without us." It was Tonks who spoke. "He might have other reasons than… that." She added, gesturing to George.
"It's not there." Said Ron after walking back the room. "I've tried summoning it, no luck."
"Look, wherever he is, we have to find him." Lupin noted. "It doesn't matter why he left. There're other possibilities, he might've tried leaving the house and got snatched by whoever."
"I just don't understand…" Hermione murmured, her eyes glittered tears. "I don't understand why he would just leave."
None of them did. Just as Harry planned. And he planned it well.
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