Harry Potter and the Dresden Files
Chapter 1, Harry's work and a prophecy
Just a note to all my dedicated readers that all stories will be on hiatus. Annoying, I know, I feel the same way, but I just don't have the spirit to continue it, it appears. -Makes sad face-
Summer Holidays, year, 2002
Before Harry's sixth year
Harry lay on his bed, his mind empty of all thoughts and feelings, nothing entering his mind. While most people, namely the Dursleys, would've regarded this as nothing other than laziness, the truth was, in reality that it wasn't. In fact, if it was then not only would Harry count it as a blessing, but others as well, namely Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts and Remus Lupin, now the godfather of Harry, although Harry didn't know it yet.
Harry had basically spent the last few days just lying there, prone and unmoving, his face staring at the ceiling, looking, but not looking.In fact, the only time that Harry had left his room was to go downstairs to eat, and he didn't eat that much either. Needless to say, he didn't care much these days for anything. He often neglected his owl, Hedwig, hardly giving her owl treats or food anymore, in fact, it got so bad that Hedwig had left him only a few days into the summer, presumably to the wilderness until her master had recovered from his illness. If ever...
Unlike most pets, Hedwig was an intelligent beast, she was fully aware of her surroundings and she was tuned into Harry's feelings, although Harry knew it not. She had been ever since first year when Harry, suffering from the attentions of all those hanger-ons fled to the Owlry, her nesting place, where he stayed for the rest of the day, just stroking and talking to Hedwig. For that, he had the eternal loyalty of Hedwig. If she could, she would die for him.
Of course, the disappearance of Hedwig caused several problems for the Dursleys, although they didn't know it. As far as they were concerned, apart from their freak nephew, everything was just normal. They had blocked out the memory of the confrontation at the train station and were under the assumption that their nephew was fulfilling the requirementsthat had been set by the Order members. Their policy with Harry was "if you ignore me, we'll ignore you". They hadn't even set him any chores! And so, it was to their great surprise that just four days after the confrontation, there was a knocking at the door.
--
Knock, knock, knock.
Vernon Dursley looked up from the newspaper he was reading in his comfortable armchair. He had just been reading about a terrible incident in which a bridge had somehow collapsed after just ten years of service. The newspaper, the Daily Mail, was laying the blame firmly at the feet of the Prime Minister. That was Labor for you, a bunch of pansies that had no idea how this country worked. A firm hand and a belt was what were needed! It was the conservatives that had the right idea for this nation, a proper, hard-working party that would make sure things were working properly. No doubt they'd stop the recent bouts of vandalism that had just occurred as soon as Dudley had returned from school. Still, Dudley could certainly take care of himself!
Knock, knock, knock.
'Petunia, darling?' Vernon called out. 'Someone's at the door!'
'I'm upstairs, dear; can you please get it for me?'
Vernon's face scowled, women these days. Most of them had become far too lazy these days. In his father's day, women knew their place. Their goals in life were to cook the meal for the men of the house, stay in the house once they reached their thirties and had come past it. Now, these days they were everywhere, working in men's jobs! Now they were doctors where they used to be nurses. Now they were business women where they used to be secretaries. Now they were -
Knock, knock, knock!
'Yes, yes alright! I'm coming!' Vernon bellowed, putting his newspaper to one side and getting up, clutching his tummy as he did so. He grimaced a bit; he seemed to be getting a lot of stomach aches these days. He would have to talk to Petunia about that later; probably it was her cooking that did it.
He opened the door, hoping that it was a salesman. They were always good to have a rant at after a nice spot of lunch. As he opened it, his stomach suddenly gave a lurch of shock. It was one of the freaks from the train station! He quickly made to close it, slamming the door just as a foot blocked it from closing. The freak then forced it open, his seemingly frail body having muscles in it. He advanced upon the now stuttering Vernon.
'Hello, Mr. Dursley,' the freak said calmly, halting in front of Vernon who was backed against a wall. 'I assume you remember me from the station, my name isRemus Lupin.' While Remus' voice was level, there was clearly a steely tone that seemed to hide an animal growl and the promise of being torn apart.
'I also assume that you remember our conversation as well, with our little agreement?' He enhanced the last word.'
Vernon finally found his voice. 'Yes, I do remember as a matter of fact. I remember you threatening me and my family. And we've kept to it as well. We've fed the boy, we've kept his room clean and we've allowed him to keep his school equipment as well.' Vernon was clearly more confident now in his speaking. 'So what do you want?'
Lupin stood to his full height, clearly taller than Vernon by a head. 'Incorrect, Dursley, the terms haven't been kept, we clearly stated that Harry was to send an owl every three days, and we've yet to receive one. So where is he, Dursley?'
Now, Vernon didn't count himself as a coward, he was more than willing to stand up for what he believed in, but at that moment he could see something in the man's eyes, a hint of red, a hint of the Big, Bad Wolf that his mother used to tell stories when he was no more than a child.
'Th - the boy - Harry - is in his bedroom, has been ever since he came back from the train station, he's been quiet as a mouse, we haven't seen hair nor tail or him except for meals, and he doesn't even speak then.' Vernon was babbling now, all thoughts of his dignity gone.
The look on Remus' face, previously calm with a look of steel in his face now took on a slightly look of concern. 'You say he's been up there for four days, Vernon?'
Vernon nodded, his double chins wobbling as he jerked his head up and down frenziedly. He was desperate to get away from this particular freak. Remus looked thoughtful; he turned away from Vernon and knew that it was his duty to help Harry through this difficult time. He would be thanked for it later. He turned back to Vernon.
'Tell me, Vernon, did you make him do chores when he came here during the summers?' Remus' voice was steady; the previous hint of danger had disappeared, replaced with curiosity.
Vernon's chest puffed out in slight pride. 'Of course, the boy was put here without our permission. Your headmaster just dumped him on us without even consulting us or thinking about what we were meant to do with him. We had hardly enough money to look after Dudley, let alone another one who wasn't even our own. I and Petunia decided that the boy would have to make up for this through work. We gave him what we felt he could handle, especially with his...freaky abilities.'
Remus felt a sneer almost crawl across his face as he realized the pure pettiness of the man in front of him. How Harry had ever survived his childhood in a place like this...it was disgusting. Not even Lucius Malfoy would've condemned a child of his enemy to a place like this; it went against everything that most wizards believed in. It was a sad fact, but most wizards and witches felt themselves superior to Muggles, hell, even Remus himself felt that way at some times, even though he was what was regarded as a vicious animal that ought to be put down in a blink of an eye.
It was partly now why Remus was hating himself for what he was about to do, but he knew that Albus Dumbledore would agree with him, it was necessary for Harry to get over this depression that he was in. There were plenty of examples of people breaking out of depression through various things, and he was pretty sure that working would do something like that. But that didn't mean that he had to like it though.
'Vernon, I have a task for you. As I'm sure you've guessed Harry is not his usual self. I and others wish to break him out of this. We believe that the best way to do this is through chores. Can I assume that in light of our previous conversation you've refrained from doing so?' As Vernon nodded, Remus continued. 'Assign him tasks; keep him distracted from thinking about anything else. Do you understand me?'
With another nod from Vernon, Remus turned to leave. As he made it to the front door, he hesitated and looked up the stairs to where Harry was. 'Please God, tell me I've done the right thing,' Remus whispered as he turned and left the Dursley's doorstep.
As Vernon slammed the door quietly behind Remus, he suddenly turned on his feet and with a gleeful expression, half ran; half waddled to his bedroom where he knew that Petunia would be busy working on the bedclothes like a proper woman ought to be doing.
'Petunia, darling!' Vernon cried out in joy as he spun her around.
'Vernon!' Petunia giggled with shock as she was spun around. 'Whatever's going on?'
'You know that person at the door?'
'Yes, what about him, dear?'
'It was one of those freaks at the door, apparently the boy hasn't sent out any letters to those freaks like he was supposed too.'
'What?' Petunia's face suddenly burned red with anger. 'How dare that boy, after everything we've do-'
'Yes, that's what I thought as well, but apparently they don't even care! They've given us permission to work the boy to the bone if we want without any reprisals! We can set him any job we want and he'll have to do it!'
Petunia's head suddenly burnt with all the different ideas and jobs that she could whip up for the boy to do. 'No reprisals?'
'No reprisals!'
'When should we start?'
Vernon looked tempted to say right that second, but as he looked outside and took into account the darkening light, he realized that there would be no point in getting the boy to work now as he would be able to stop within an hour. He turned back to Petunia, his face slightly downcast. 'We'll set him to work tomorrow, my love.'
Petunia and Vernon both grinned with glee as thoughts of jobs entered their heads. The rest of the summer was sure to be very, very difficult for the freak.
--
Harry sighed as he once again applied yet another slick of paint to the garden fence. He had done this very task no more than a few hours ago, yet his Uncle Vernon had ordered him to do it again, stating that it was a rubbish job. Ever since that fatal day, just three days ago, he had been working non-stop for the Dursleys.
He had been lying on his bed, anticipating yet another day of just lying there, thinking of nothing when suddenly, his door had burst open and Uncle Vernon burst in the room and started yelling at him. Apparently, his Uncle Vernon had enough of his "lazing about", and would not put up with it anymore. He had then been picked up by his shirt and marched downstairs. He had then been handed a mop and was ordered to mop the kitchen floor. Ever since then, from 8 till 7, he had been given tasks and jobs. If he hadn't completed them in time, then he would have to continue. On the off-chance that he did manage to complete these jobs, he would then be told to leave the house for a couple of hours to go whether he wanted. That wasn't so bad; he often went around the town. It astonished him that there was so much in the town that he simply hadn't noticed before. The people, however, had very much left to be desired. The rumors that the Dursleys had spread about him had made their mark on the townspeople. If he went into a store, there would almost certainly be a shop assistant following him discreetly, watching to see if he took anything.
But even so, he was still content to simply just wander and browse the items, even if he couldn't buy them. Of course, it was made worst by Dudley and his little gang. Although Dudley had ignored him thanks to last year, he was still prone to set his gang on Harry from afar, not wishing to take part himself. That had caused him to start running, and there had been muscles starting to develop slowly, although he didn't expect it to last long when he returned to Hogwarts.
But at the moment, he was still stuck in the garden doing work for his relatives. He hated them at times. At least, he used to at any rates. These days he was just walking along without any particular thoughts in his head. He was so miserable these days. Practically everything reminded him of Sirius, the dog that went with its owner on a walk every day at four in the afternoon, the clouds that look like a dog, hell, even the color black made him feel down at times.
'Hey, freak!'
Harry didn't bother looking up; no doubt it was Dudley who thought him clever enough to come up with an insult like that.
'Oi, freak, I'm talking to you!'
Harry continued to ignore him.
'Have you been crying again, Potter? Have you been crying into your pillow? "Cedric, oh Cedric, don't hurt Cedric", whose Cedric, Potter? Your boyfriend?'
The raucous laughing of Dudley made Harry's blood boil; he was starting to feel something other than pain and agony for once. But he kept it down, he kept looking at the fence that he was painting, hoping that Dudley would lose interest in him and leave him be.
'Hey, Potter, where's Mummy and Daddy? Did they leave you? They didn't want you, freak. Your worthless, Potter. No one wants you; no one likes you, we all ha-'
Harry snapped. He leapt to his feet, swirled around and holding the bucket of paint, flung it into Dudley's repulsive, ugly face. Dudley immediately screamed and started clawing at his eyes, rubbing at it frantically. Harry suddenly panicked as he saw a ripple of what looked like a disillusion charm. Realizing that Dumbledore was keeping his dogs on his scent, Harry lost his temper fully, and leaping over the half painted fence, he ran through the streets, knocking down bypassers, ignoring their cries and shouts. He would lose them; he would not stay any longer in a house of hate.
Already though, he could feel exhaustion approaching him. He felt a great tiredness spread through his limbs, through his aching legs and his weary arms that felt like lead. He hadn't eaten much today, only a piece of bread that was hardly fresh. He had to stop, to sit, to lie down. He jogged into an alleyway, his breath panting like a dog, his legs screaming for peace. He felt his legs collapse under him, a great feeling of release spreading through his body as he allowed himself to go numb. He was tired, so very tired. He would close his eyes, yes, just close his eyes and have a nice sleep. He was entitled, and then, then he would do something else...yes, leave...home...mum...dad...
As Harry allowed the blackness to take him, he didn't feel what it was he was lying on. A silver coin, ancient in its style and its words. It felt the beating of a heart directly above it, it glowed red, hot red. It changed color, its temperature rising steadily, a hundred, five hundred, ten thousand...it's previously dull red had turned a sparkling beaming white, hidden only by Harry's body.
It started to burn, burn into his body. The pain was so great that it became numb to Harry; his nerves simply were incapable of feeling such a feat. His skin and flesh melted like butter against a hot knife, only to regrow at a rapid speed as soon as the coin had burnt its way through it. It continued through the body, corrupting the cells that it encountered, changing the very biology of Harry to its suiting. As it made its way through the body, it eventually reached the perfect area in which it would grow.
The brain.
Yes, this would make an excellent host for Naamah. And she would prosper once again.
Hogwarts, Staff meeting
Professor Trelawney sighed, tapping her feet and staring into the distance of the staffroom. Today was the monthly staff meeting, even though there was no school to actually talk about. In short, it was boring and pointless. The other teachers were babbling on about their own classes and what new parts in their subjects they wanted to teach.
Of course, saint Dumbledore would listen to them and then respectfully and sadly shake his head, denying them their new works for whatever reason. She had done the same at one point; she had such grand ideas for Divination. She knew that they would work and that a new generation of Seers would emerge to assist the Wizarding World. But no, according to Dumbledore, the school couldn't pay for all that.
She hated her students at times. They constantly mocked her work, her heritage. She tried so hard to help the students widen their minds, think of the supernatural. But so many of them just didn't have the correct aptitudes to do so. They chose to stay with their books, to use their wands for everything, foolishly believing everything that is written is correct. But there were forces out there that weren't marked, that wizard kind didn't or doesn't want to know about.
As Flitwick asked another question to Dumbledore, Trelawney suddenly felt a little funny. Quite queasy in fact…suddenly, blackness took her.
Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers suddenly stopped talking as they watched in amazement as for the third time in her life, Trelawney made a prophecy.
And as the Chosen One suffers under the wrath of the Dark Lord,
So falls love, happiness and light,
A new Dark Power arises, yet it does not fight for dark,
The god's have chosen,
A boy falls to darkness,
And yet he will be happy,
As the Dark Lord falls