Chapter 1:Grieving
Sirius was gone and it was all his fault. He tried to let it sink in, but the thought of him gone was to painful. He had been the closest to a father figure Harry had ever had. His last hope of having a family was gone, and it was all his fault - again. If only he had used his double mirror to check on Sirius, it wouldn't have happened. He should have worked harder on his Occlumency. He mentally sighed and pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind. He stared at the dreary sky as he sat on a swing in Little Whinging's Park, and through his round glasses, his emerald eyes were pensive.
It was a particularly hard summer and his "wonderful" relatives weren't helping much. That was why Harry Potter came to the park, everyday after his chores. He heard muffled voices and sniggering and suspected that it was Dudley and his gang of cronies coming back from "tea" time. If he got back after Dudley did, he knew punishment was required. He didn't care though, it was quiet and peaceful in his room. But sometimes, he really missed the dark and peaceful cupboard.
He jumped off the swing and began making his way, silently, back to No. 4 Privet Drive. He wished he could have gone to live with Sirius, but he couldn't since Sirius…he stopped himself. The thought tore at his already broken heart. He felt as if he had been orphaned a second time, making the emptiness in his heart a little bigger. All he wanted was a family, either one person or ten. He wanted to be loved, to come back home to parents and siblings who loved him - but he knew that was impossible.
He had expected Remus to be beyond furious with him, but instead, his letters made Harry's heart ache. During the summer he had received letters from Remus, Tonks, Hermione and the Weasley's. He loved the letters, even though he rarely wrote back. They filled his insides with a warm feeling, if only for a little while.
The thing that annoyed him the most, was their sympathy. He didn't want their pity. The only letters that didn't have it were Ginny's and the twins'. Although they said they understood what he was going through, they didn't come off that way.
Ron's letters usually mentioned something about he and Hermione arriving at the Burrow, and how his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, were doing. Ginny's were bright, newsy and often funny. Besides the twins', he liked her letters the most because there was something about them that made him smile. Mrs. Weasley's letters were heart warming, and had a fierce and protective edge to them. The twins' letters were often funny and made him laugh, even when he felt terrible. He rarely answered to anything he received even though they begged him to.
He didn't know what to write, because if they knew how he really was, he'd get even more sympathy. Which, indeed, was the exact opposite of what he wanted. And lying? Not an option. His thoughts were interrupted as he reached the doorstep. He rang the doorbell and one minute later, Aunt Petunia opened the door.
"Get in boy, the neighbors are starting to stare," she scolded!
He knew perfectly well that the neighbors were not staring, but knew better than to talk back. Aunt Petunia hurried him inside.
"Go up to your room. We'll bring you your dinner, then you can come down and do the dishes," She instructed. He gave a small nod and headed up the stairs. His room had dead bolts on his door and bars on his window, but he didn't have the willpower to care.
He heard her make her way up the stairs after him and locked the door after he went inside. His relatives weren't as bad this summer, since they received a warning from the Order. His trunk had been put in his room. He took out a scrap piece of paper and jotted a quick note with his quill to the Weasley's and Hermione.
I'm fine. Safe at Privet Drive.
Muggles are behaving.
- Harry
He made two more exact replicas and called out "Hedwig!" He heard her hoot softly in reply as she took flight and landed on his shoulder. He stroked her feathers and carefully attached the notes to her talons.
"Take them to Grimmauld Place and Hermione," He said. She affectionately nipped his ear and gave one last hoot before soaring through the bars of his window and into the night sky. He watched her until she was a white speck in the sky, disappearing among the stars.
He heard the locks on his door being unlatched and expected that it was his Aunt Petunia, bringing him his dinner. Aunt Petunia walked inside and set his dinner down on his desk. Through the open door he could hear Dudley playing video games and Uncle Vernon watching the news and yelling at the TV; "This is rubbish!"
"Hurry up and eat!" she said, "When you've finished, bring the tray downstairs and wash the dishes. You may use the loo if you must, then off to bed! Dudley's friends are coming over tomorrow, so you better behave. Any funny business, boy, and you'll regret it," Aunt Petunia continued with a warning edge to her tone. She turned around and walked out, slamming the door behind her.
He knew why Dudley's friends were coming over. Dudley had won his school's wrestling tournament and his trophy was downstairs. He sighed. His relatives usually thought Dudley and his friends had 'tea and light snacks' while they were gone, but they always brought alcohol, cigarettes and weed. They always got away with it, because Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went out before his friends came over. If they broke something, they always blamed it on Harry. His relatives always believed them, no matter how obvious it was that he was innocent.
He noticed that his food was cold, but he knew better than to complain. Like they would do anything about it, he thought. He snorted at the thought that his aunt would even consider doing that. He started eating some of his soup so he wouldn't get in trouble. His relatives hadn't really starved Harry after he came back from Hogwarts, but they surely weren't being generous. He had even less to eat since Dudley's school sent home a diet sheet, but they made sure Dudley always had more to eat than Harry.
He couldn't care less though, his appetite had almost vanished - if not completely - since Sirius died. He could feel the pain, guilt and sorrow gnawing at him. He knew the Order wanted to send him to 12 Grimmauld Place in two weeks, but he didn't know if he could handle it. He wanted to go to The Burrow. He had always loved going there - since it felt like his real home. A vacation from, school, Voldemort, Death Eaters, the Dursley's and being The-Boy-Who-Lived. There - he could be himself. Just Harry. But now, thanks to him, the Burrow was a main target.
A wave of guilt washed over him. It was his fault that the Weasley's had to stay at 12 Grimmauld Place. Why did it always have to be him? He always had to play the hero but he ended up putting people in dangers way - just because he cared for them. All of his parent figures had died - all because of him. But he didn't cry, because crying solves nothing. It doesn't help or make anything better - he learned that a long time ago.
He had been so close after the Third Task, after watching Cedric die and Voldemort reborn. He didn't know what to do with his feelings, so he just bottled them up. His childhood had a lot to do with never saying he was hungry, tired, hurt or sick. If no one cared then, he knew that no one would care now.
He sighed and finished his soup, chugging down his glass of water - not even stopping for air. He carefully put the glass, spoon and bowl back on the small tray and got up. He began making his way downstairs and noticed that Uncle Vernon was still watching the muggle news and his Aunt was in the Den too, but paying little attention to the TV. When he entered the kitchen he saw that Dudley was at the kitchen table eating a bag of crisps. He knew that Dudley wasn't allowed to, because of his diet sheet, but didn't make a move to tell on him. He wondered if Dudley would get in trouble if he was caught, but doubted he would be punished or starved as he had been when he was young.
He turned his attention back to the dishes and began washing them. He washed each of them so thoroughly that he could see himself on the plate. He carefully dried them and put them away. His relatives wouldn't let him use the dishwasher. He wondered why they wouldn't just put it in the dishwasher instead of having him do it by hand - it would be much faster after all. They probably did it just for the sake of making him work. He heard a chair moving across the floor and noticed Dudley getting up. He walked up to Harry and stopped, wearing strange expression on his face. He opened his mouth and it looked like he was about to say something, but just shook his head and walked into the den. Dudley had been giving Harry strange looks all summer, as if he was trying to figure him out. Harry disregarded it and followed Dudley into the den.
"Uncle Vernon, I finished the dishes," he said quietly. His Uncle didn't even turn his head towards Harry.
"Petunia, dear, can you please check to see if the boy did the dishes?" he asked.
"Why, of course Vernon." She got up off the couch and made her way into the kitchen. He held his breath and waited for the answer. If she was in a bad mood, she would make up lies just to get him in trouble. Unfortunately for Harry, it was one of those days.
"Two of the plates are still dirty and they are all still wet. And the boy didn't put the dishes in the right spot," she shrieked to Uncle Vernon.
"BOY!" Roared Uncle Vernon. Harry flinched, knowing Uncle Vernon was very mad. He cautiously turned to look at his uncle, whose red veins bulged out on his purple face. His small, pig-like eyes glittered dangerously, which was not a good sign.
"GO TO YOUR ROOM BOY! AND DON'T BE EXPECTING ANY MEALS FOR THE NEXT WEEK!" He roared, looking beyond furious. He slapped Harry in the face so hard, he fell over. Harry was shocked, his uncle hadn't hit him as much after he'd attended Hogwarts. Due to the pain and shock, he was slower to get up, which made his uncle even more mad - if that was even possible. His uncle grabbed Harry by his hair and pulled him up onto his feet and pushed him so that he stumbled backwards a few feet. He knew this was his cue, so he ran upstairs and shut the door behind him.
He noticed that Hedwig wasn't back and sighed. He laid down on his 'bed' and tried to get comfortable. A minute later, he gave up and just ended up lying on his side, staring at the wall. He dreaded the night, since he always had nightmares. It was either Voldemort laughing and a flash of green light, the Chamber of Secrets, Cedric dying, Voldemort getting reborn, or Sirius falling through the Veil. Tonight, he had the worst - a mix of all of them.
A/N: Hope you liked it so far! I'm new at this and pointers and praises will really help a new writer like me! I know I'm going to enjoy writing this and don't worry I'm going to add one or maybe even two sequels! I have a surprise for Hogwarts that you will love! I promise I won't disappoint you guys. No slash or Severitus. Also a special thanks to my mom for helping me check my spelling and grammar! Please review. SPECIAL NOTICE: I'm on a trip for two weeks and it might take longer to update the second chapter. I'll work on it as much as I can. :D
Next chapter...The Burrow
-Addicted2snickers
