Chapter One: The Prophet
It had been a week since returning "home". He'd not slept for more than 2 hours a night. He was afraid of his dreams which were more than nightmares. They intensified into full blown night terrors. He awoke every night with a silent scream at his lips. His throat was scratchy and stung as if he had really screamed. Luckily for him had yet to voice the scream that so often poised on his lips for if he did he was sure that threat or no threat he would beat to a pulp. The dream was always the same. It started much as it had years before when all he could catch was a flash of green light and a laugh. Then it showed his parents getting killed trying to protect him, then Cedric getting killed in the cemetery, and finally Sirius being shot in the chest with a simple stunning spell and slowly falling back into the archway. All were his fault. It was this horrible truth that tortured him every night and caused the silent screams. He was sitting on his bed with his knees drawn to his chest and his face screwed in concentration. He was trying to stop the tears flowing down his face. It did little to help. He cast around the room for something to distract him from the constant pain. His eyes passed over the discarded books that he had tried to use on other nights, they hadn't worked. They then traveled to the various letters littering his desk. They had been from all his friends, trying to "comfort" him.
He scoffed and thought, "As if they had any idea."
He felt bad thinking this because he knew they were trying to help but couldn't stop himself. He got up walked over to the dresser where they were all laid. Flipped through them, the top two were from Ron and Hermione. The rest were unopened as he had stopped after the first two because he knew they would all say the same thing. After looking at the letter the tears welled in his eyes again. He not only got Sirius killed by going to the Ministry that night he had also dragged his friends along with him nearly getting them killed in the process. He was dreading leaving the Dursleys' for the first time he could remember. He was sitting there lost in his own thoughts when he heard a tapping on the window. He walked to the window and raised it to let the owl inside. It flew in with a wild hoot started to fly dizzying circles around Harry's head. Harry quickly reached up to snag the owl and retrieved the letter and small bundle from Pig's leg. With that the overexcited owl took of out the window again. Harry opened the letter. It was from Ron and Hermione.
Harry,
You need to see this edition of the Daily Prophet. Dad told us and we immediately got itto send to you. We hope it will help you. If need us just write.
Love,
Ron and Hermione
Harry opened the package and unfurled the newspaper. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Sirius staring back out at him. It was an earlier picture of him. Before he got that dead look in his eye from Azkaban.
Sirius Black Cleared
In a surprise move by Cornelius Fudge today
Sirius Black,
Alleged mass murderer and Death Eater, was
exonerated
of all charges. He stated simply that he
reviewed the case and
heard the statements of Albus Dumbledore
and Harry Potter.
Along with eyewitness accounts from Aurors Kingsley
Shackleboltand and Nymphadora Tonks who
say he fought
the Death Eaters that were captured in the
Ministry earlier
this summer. "We all deeply regret what Sirius
Black has had
to go through." stated the Minister of
Magic. " He was sent to
Azkaban without a trial and served thirteen
years for crimes he
didn't commit." The Minister later stated
that they will now
begin a manhunt for Peter Petigrew. "He
was the one that
betrayed the Potters to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-
Named." the
minister said before bringing the
press conference to an end.
Sirius Black will be awarded the Order of
Merlin, First Class
post-humously for his unwavering support
of the light side. He
was unfortunately killed in the
attack by none other than his
cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, known
Death Eater. As the last
descendant of the Black line he
has no direct heir he has left
Everything to his godson. His godson is none
other than the
Boy-Who-Lived himself, Harry Potter.
Mr. Potter is unavailable
for comment this time.
A month ago this article would have been fantastic but now after all that has happened it caused new tears to well in his eyes. Somewhere beneath the guilt and sadness that now familiar feeling of anger. He was angry at the Minister for ignoring him and Dumbledore last year. As he looked at the article he relived that awful night again. This didn't matter anymore because it was too late. He had killed his godfather with his stupidity. He looked down again into the smiling face of his godfather and saw the image that Voldemort had sent him in his dream. Sirius kneeling on the floor with Voldemort standing over him performing the Cruciatius Curse on him. After lifting the curse he laughed that awful laugh. That laugh that showed no mirth but instead evil in its purest form. When Harry had heard that laugh in the past it filled him with fear and dread. Now it caused his anger to flare into a white hot fury. He hated that laugh almost as he had the snake behind it. When he opened his eyes his reflection immediately caught his eye and he froze. No. Impossible. When he first opened them he could have swore his eyes were glowing green. After looking again and seeing no sign of the glow he decided he must have imagined it. The anger had died down a bit with this distraction but hadn't left. What filled the empty space was determination. He knew what the prophecy had said. That he would become either murderer or victim. "A few days ago I would have chosen victim." he thought as his eyes passed to the knife laying on his nightstand. It was a simple kitchen knife with serrated edges. He had lain in his bed every night since coming back to the Dursleys' and ran it over his wrists. It would have been so easy. So easy to stop the pain, stop the guilt, and give him peace at last but he didn't. What stopped him was the Weasleys. Every time he had come close to ending it they popped in his head. He knew that if he ended it they would not stand a chance. Their family is really close to Dumbledore and this made them an excellent target for Voldemort. Tonight, however, his mind was made up. No more easy way out. He was going to kill Voldemort. His mind began spinning as he ran over things he would need to do. The first obviously was get into shape. Since he had been banned from Quidditch last year he had grown considerably weaker. His mind made up he got dressed and eased out the door. He took care not to make a sound because he was actually on good terms with his "family" this year. They ignored him and he returned the gesture. But even with Mad- Eye's warning he didn't want to provoke them.
He made his way to the end of the driveway and stretched for a few minutes to loosen up and began jogging. He was careful to pace himself so as not to tire out to quickly. He had never had a lot of endurance. True, he was quick for a short time (living with Dudley for nearly 16 years made sure of that) but tired quickly. As he ran his mind passed through all the things that had happened in the last five years. As he grew closer to the present his speed began to slowly increase. After about a mile his breath became so ragged that it hurt his chest to even inhale. He reached Sirius being killed just as he started to slow down. When he saw his godfather fall into the veil again that anger came back just as strong as it was in his room. His feet started to move faster all of a sudden. In fact he could hardly feel them touching the ground anymore. He flew past all the darkened houses barely seeing more than a blur. His chest had quit hurting too. His breath became even again. He stopped a while later to look at his watch. 1:00 a.m. This can't be right. If it was one then he had been running for an hour straight and he wasn't out of breath or in pain at all. Actually he felt exhilarated. He turned to see where he was but with a stab of fear realized that he didn't know where he was but it passed quickly. He simply shrugged his shoulders and turned around to head back. Again he became exhausted rather quickly and started to slow. He remembered that laugh and he sped up again as the anger flared in him again. Before he even realized it he had passed the Dursleys' house. He spun around and walked back. Not because he was tired but because he was wondering what was going on. He had clearly just run for two straight hours and wasn't even tired. As he reached the house he glanced around him wondering who's turn it was to watch him. He didn't see anyone though he had the vague feeling of being watched. He found that he didn't care. He was through relying on adults to "protect" him. He was going to do it himself.
As he eased back into the house and up the stairs he went over a few things he had to do before facing Voldemort besides getting into shape. As soon as Hedwig got back from hunting he was going to send her off to Diagon Alley to get him some dueling books. He was also going to get an assortment of hex, curse, and spell books. Since he couldn't practice magic outside the school he would just read the books and try the things once he got back to Hogwarts. The first thing he did upon entering his room was walk over to the nightstand and grabbed the knife. As he took it back to the kitchen to put it where it belongs he felt disgusted with himself that he had even considered it. He then straightened up his room before beginning the rest of his workout. By four he was laying on his bed staring at the ceiling in wonder again. He had just completed nearly two hours of a very rigorous workout that should have left him so tired he couldn't stand up. But instead he had barely broken a sweat. He felt as if he could have kept it up forever. He stopped at four because he wanted to try to get a little sleep before morning. As he lay there staring at the ceiling he remembered Hagrid's words from two summers ago. He told him that, "What's coming will come and we'll meet it when it does." These words rang through Harry. A grim smile grew on his face as he said out loud, "Here I come Tom."
It had been a week since returning "home". He'd not slept for more than 2 hours a night. He was afraid of his dreams which were more than nightmares. They intensified into full blown night terrors. He awoke every night with a silent scream at his lips. His throat was scratchy and stung as if he had really screamed. Luckily for him had yet to voice the scream that so often poised on his lips for if he did he was sure that threat or no threat he would beat to a pulp. The dream was always the same. It started much as it had years before when all he could catch was a flash of green light and a laugh. Then it showed his parents getting killed trying to protect him, then Cedric getting killed in the cemetery, and finally Sirius being shot in the chest with a simple stunning spell and slowly falling back into the archway. All were his fault. It was this horrible truth that tortured him every night and caused the silent screams. He was sitting on his bed with his knees drawn to his chest and his face screwed in concentration. He was trying to stop the tears flowing down his face. It did little to help. He cast around the room for something to distract him from the constant pain. His eyes passed over the discarded books that he had tried to use on other nights, they hadn't worked. They then traveled to the various letters littering his desk. They had been from all his friends, trying to "comfort" him.
He scoffed and thought, "As if they had any idea."
He felt bad thinking this because he knew they were trying to help but couldn't stop himself. He got up walked over to the dresser where they were all laid. Flipped through them, the top two were from Ron and Hermione. The rest were unopened as he had stopped after the first two because he knew they would all say the same thing. After looking at the letter the tears welled in his eyes again. He not only got Sirius killed by going to the Ministry that night he had also dragged his friends along with him nearly getting them killed in the process. He was dreading leaving the Dursleys' for the first time he could remember. He was sitting there lost in his own thoughts when he heard a tapping on the window. He walked to the window and raised it to let the owl inside. It flew in with a wild hoot started to fly dizzying circles around Harry's head. Harry quickly reached up to snag the owl and retrieved the letter and small bundle from Pig's leg. With that the overexcited owl took of out the window again. Harry opened the letter. It was from Ron and Hermione.
Harry,
You need to see this edition of the Daily Prophet. Dad told us and we immediately got itto send to you. We hope it will help you. If need us just write.
Love,
Ron and Hermione
Harry opened the package and unfurled the newspaper. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Sirius staring back out at him. It was an earlier picture of him. Before he got that dead look in his eye from Azkaban.
Sirius Black Cleared
In a surprise move by Cornelius Fudge today
Sirius Black,
Alleged mass murderer and Death Eater, was
exonerated
of all charges. He stated simply that he
reviewed the case and
heard the statements of Albus Dumbledore
and Harry Potter.
Along with eyewitness accounts from Aurors Kingsley
Shackleboltand and Nymphadora Tonks who
say he fought
the Death Eaters that were captured in the
Ministry earlier
this summer. "We all deeply regret what Sirius
Black has had
to go through." stated the Minister of
Magic. " He was sent to
Azkaban without a trial and served thirteen
years for crimes he
didn't commit." The Minister later stated
that they will now
begin a manhunt for Peter Petigrew. "He
was the one that
betrayed the Potters to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-
Named." the
minister said before bringing the
press conference to an end.
Sirius Black will be awarded the Order of
Merlin, First Class
post-humously for his unwavering support
of the light side. He
was unfortunately killed in the
attack by none other than his
cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, known
Death Eater. As the last
descendant of the Black line he
has no direct heir he has left
Everything to his godson. His godson is none
other than the
Boy-Who-Lived himself, Harry Potter.
Mr. Potter is unavailable
for comment this time.
A month ago this article would have been fantastic but now after all that has happened it caused new tears to well in his eyes. Somewhere beneath the guilt and sadness that now familiar feeling of anger. He was angry at the Minister for ignoring him and Dumbledore last year. As he looked at the article he relived that awful night again. This didn't matter anymore because it was too late. He had killed his godfather with his stupidity. He looked down again into the smiling face of his godfather and saw the image that Voldemort had sent him in his dream. Sirius kneeling on the floor with Voldemort standing over him performing the Cruciatius Curse on him. After lifting the curse he laughed that awful laugh. That laugh that showed no mirth but instead evil in its purest form. When Harry had heard that laugh in the past it filled him with fear and dread. Now it caused his anger to flare into a white hot fury. He hated that laugh almost as he had the snake behind it. When he opened his eyes his reflection immediately caught his eye and he froze. No. Impossible. When he first opened them he could have swore his eyes were glowing green. After looking again and seeing no sign of the glow he decided he must have imagined it. The anger had died down a bit with this distraction but hadn't left. What filled the empty space was determination. He knew what the prophecy had said. That he would become either murderer or victim. "A few days ago I would have chosen victim." he thought as his eyes passed to the knife laying on his nightstand. It was a simple kitchen knife with serrated edges. He had lain in his bed every night since coming back to the Dursleys' and ran it over his wrists. It would have been so easy. So easy to stop the pain, stop the guilt, and give him peace at last but he didn't. What stopped him was the Weasleys. Every time he had come close to ending it they popped in his head. He knew that if he ended it they would not stand a chance. Their family is really close to Dumbledore and this made them an excellent target for Voldemort. Tonight, however, his mind was made up. No more easy way out. He was going to kill Voldemort. His mind began spinning as he ran over things he would need to do. The first obviously was get into shape. Since he had been banned from Quidditch last year he had grown considerably weaker. His mind made up he got dressed and eased out the door. He took care not to make a sound because he was actually on good terms with his "family" this year. They ignored him and he returned the gesture. But even with Mad- Eye's warning he didn't want to provoke them.
He made his way to the end of the driveway and stretched for a few minutes to loosen up and began jogging. He was careful to pace himself so as not to tire out to quickly. He had never had a lot of endurance. True, he was quick for a short time (living with Dudley for nearly 16 years made sure of that) but tired quickly. As he ran his mind passed through all the things that had happened in the last five years. As he grew closer to the present his speed began to slowly increase. After about a mile his breath became so ragged that it hurt his chest to even inhale. He reached Sirius being killed just as he started to slow down. When he saw his godfather fall into the veil again that anger came back just as strong as it was in his room. His feet started to move faster all of a sudden. In fact he could hardly feel them touching the ground anymore. He flew past all the darkened houses barely seeing more than a blur. His chest had quit hurting too. His breath became even again. He stopped a while later to look at his watch. 1:00 a.m. This can't be right. If it was one then he had been running for an hour straight and he wasn't out of breath or in pain at all. Actually he felt exhilarated. He turned to see where he was but with a stab of fear realized that he didn't know where he was but it passed quickly. He simply shrugged his shoulders and turned around to head back. Again he became exhausted rather quickly and started to slow. He remembered that laugh and he sped up again as the anger flared in him again. Before he even realized it he had passed the Dursleys' house. He spun around and walked back. Not because he was tired but because he was wondering what was going on. He had clearly just run for two straight hours and wasn't even tired. As he reached the house he glanced around him wondering who's turn it was to watch him. He didn't see anyone though he had the vague feeling of being watched. He found that he didn't care. He was through relying on adults to "protect" him. He was going to do it himself.
As he eased back into the house and up the stairs he went over a few things he had to do before facing Voldemort besides getting into shape. As soon as Hedwig got back from hunting he was going to send her off to Diagon Alley to get him some dueling books. He was also going to get an assortment of hex, curse, and spell books. Since he couldn't practice magic outside the school he would just read the books and try the things once he got back to Hogwarts. The first thing he did upon entering his room was walk over to the nightstand and grabbed the knife. As he took it back to the kitchen to put it where it belongs he felt disgusted with himself that he had even considered it. He then straightened up his room before beginning the rest of his workout. By four he was laying on his bed staring at the ceiling in wonder again. He had just completed nearly two hours of a very rigorous workout that should have left him so tired he couldn't stand up. But instead he had barely broken a sweat. He felt as if he could have kept it up forever. He stopped at four because he wanted to try to get a little sleep before morning. As he lay there staring at the ceiling he remembered Hagrid's words from two summers ago. He told him that, "What's coming will come and we'll meet it when it does." These words rang through Harry. A grim smile grew on his face as he said out loud, "Here I come Tom."