Chapter 1 - Privet Drive
A/N - Hey guys! This is my very first story and I'm really liking the start of it. I hope it turns out to be a good story for y'all! Please remember to review and PM me if you want!
Harry lay on the uncomfortable bed under the stairs of Number 4 Privet Drive. He shivered, it was very cold despite the fact that it was summer. The lack of a blanket didn't help either, nor jacket. He was back where he started, when he felt most… normal. Which was funny because if you had asked his 9-year-old self, he would've said he felt anything but normal. As he looked around the room for the millionth time that day, he saw his old knight action figures, and slips from different newspapers he had managed to get from his uncle. He stared at the cracked ceiling hopelessly. His mind wandered and turned and he thought about the Battle of Hogwarts. Hogwarts had been in ruins when he left. His school for 6 years, was thoroughly damaged. Surely they would repair it but of course it wouldn't be the same. His mind left himself again, and it traveled to the people in his life. The people who had fought in the battle, the people who had stood by him, the people who cared most about him, and last of all, the people waiting for him. He also thought about something that he'd rather ignore. Forever. About how there were so many people who- who-
Harry pressed his hand to his forehead and ran his finger over his scar, that had once burned and hurt so much. But it was over, Voldemort was gone. So why was he here? Why did he choose to come back to his deserted old home? He turned on his side so he was facing the wall, and his thoughts turned again. As he thought about all the people he had left behind, all of the people that loved him, as family, he felt a tear form in the eye. He reached under his glasses to quickly wipe it away. Harry shook his head. What was he doing? He had abandoned all of the people who had cared about him most. His best friend, Ron. His other best friend, Hermione. She was like a sister to him. Mrs. Weasley, she was always like a mother to him. And- Ginny. Words couldn't describe how he felt about her, he couldn't even figure it out himself. But would they all care about him anymore? Did they even bother looking for him, or did they push any thought of him aside? He wouldn't blame them of course. All the damage, all of the wreckage, it was all his fault. If he had just went into the forest sooner, maybe he could've prevented some of it. Or if he had figured it all out sooner, he should've known. Harry shook his head once more, trying to rid the thought that maybe the Weasley's didn't like him, or care about him anymore. It was ridiculous, of course they did. Or.. maybe not.
He sighed, as he sat up from the bed he accidently hit his head on the ceiling of the small cupboard. He groaned in pain and rubbed the spot where he hit his head. Harry stood and crouched so he didn't hit the low ceiling again. He made his way across the tiny area, to where his trunk lay, covered in dust. It was still packed with his books, notes, candies,and an assortment of other things. As quickly as he could, he packed it up, filling it with everything that lay scattered on the ground. There were copies of the Daily Prophet thrown all around, he didn't pack those yet picked one up in spite of himself. The title read, 'The Boy Who Lived - Presumed Dead?' He snorted, he should've guessed, they thought he was dead. Surely the people who knew him the most one that that couldn't be true.. but what if they thought that as well? He was surprised the press hadn't found him yet, or anyone for that matter. He had moved around a little. Grimmauld Place, Godric's Hollow, here. He shrugged and threw the paper onto his bed. And then he continued to pack. He threw clothes into the trunk as fast as he could, as if he was afraid he would change his mind if he didn't leave soon.
He then heaved and dragged the heavy trunk outside the back of the house. He tried to brush off some of the dust on the trunk, but ended up with his hand covered in dust bunnies instead. He wiped it on his pants in haste. The backyard was fenced in, and he saw the bush he had hidden in once, trying to hear the news from the window. He replayed the scenario when his Aunt Marge blew up and floated into the sky. He tried to smile, he really did, but no such luck, how could someone smile in times like these? He was sure no one would want to see him when he went back, that he would be thoroughly hated by everyone. He sighed and thought that there might be a slight chance that someone was waiting for him to come back. That someone cared if he returned. He took a deep breath, he couldn't believe what he was about to do. He had to though, it was the only way to see if they cared about him anymore. And, if they didn't hate him, he might stay there. But if anyone gets loved or cared about wanted him to leave, he would be considered gone. He took another deep breath and nodded, he was going to do it. He was going back. Harry looked around to make sure no one was looking his way. And then with a loud pop, he apparated away from Privet Drive, away from the place he had spent so many years feeling out of place, yet, his most normal.
Harry arrived in front of the Burrow, and he cautiously peered into the windows of the dimly lit rooms inside the house. He could see Fred and George's room, yet the light was off. There were many boxes in the room, but there was no bed. George had moved into the joke shop and Fred was- Harry didn't want to think about it. He sighed quickly and sharply, as if he thought someone would hear him if he let all of his breath out. He didn't want anyone to know he was there yet, that way he could still change his mind and leave, go back to Privet Drive for a few more months. He shook his head, no, he was really going to stay, he wasn't going to back out this time. He examined the front yard, it needed to be de-gnomed, but he felt at home already. A warm and bright light was peeking out from behind a curtain on the top floor. He knew for a fact that that was Ginny's room. And then there was Ron's room on the side of the house right next to Ginny's.
Harry sighed again, he couldn't keep stalling, eventually he was going to have to go into the house. Even though he had been putting it off for as long as he possibly could, he decided that he had to go in soon, now or never. As he approached the doorway he wondered what the reactions of his sudden appearance would be. Mad, happy, confused. He knew for a fact Ron and Hermione would be glad to see him. Well, maybe not so much Ron. Not after what happened at Hogwarts. He hoped they would be happy to see him, but they have every right to be angry, and he knew that. He just hoped that maybe they would be glad to see him finally. After all these months. Harry didn't even know how long he had been gone, he hadn't kept track of time, he didn't even know what day it was, just that it was summer. It had probably been around a year. He had left right after the battle, so most likely a little over a year.
He stood then right in front of the doorway, his fist raised to knock, but he didn't. He couldn't. Harry couldn't even imagine how much they hated him, he caused their brother's death. It was his fault Fred died, even he wouldn't deny it. He lowered his fist and pushed his ear up to the door. He could hear the usual clatter of pots and pans and silverware inside of the house. He remembered those dinners, it was one of the things he missed most about the Weasley house. That and the people inside of it. They were a big happy family, something Harry didn't get to have as a child. He smiled imagining it. The time he had smiled all year. He suddenly got the urge to break down the door and barge into that happy family, one he so longed to be apart of. But that was outrageous, it would be much politer to knock. So he raised his fist once more and pounded on the door. He took a step back and waited for someone to answer. He tapped his foot a little, it was taking longer than usual. He could hear the bustling around inside, so why hadn't anyone opened the door yet? Harry decided that no one must've heard his knock so he knocked again. He had turned out to be right because a moment later the door was thrown open and Hermione's face appeared.
"Harry!" she squealed and barrowled at him into an enormous hug.
Ron peeked his head out the door and caught sight of harry, at first he was speechless. He opened his mouth to say something but words didn't fill the silence, finally Ron's voice seemed to catch up with the rest of him, "Harry! What're you doing here!? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" he shouted smiling widely. He pushed Hermione off of Harry and gave him a brotherly hug, "I don't care right now but you better tell me later," he muttered into Harry's ear.
Harry beamed ear to ear as Mrs. Weasley rushed them all inside after hugging Harry briefly. His trunk had been thrown to the ground, forgotten. But Mrs. Weasley hurried to pick it up, "Ginevra," she called, "Take Harry's trunk up to Ron's room?" she asked.
A flash of red hair came towards Mrs. Weasley and suddenly Harry's breath was taken away. He had forgotten how beautiful Ginny was, "Of course Mum," she said quietly and rushed away with Harry's bag. Shortly later they heard Ginny's door slam shut, breaking the silence.