Disclaimer. Everything you recognize is not mine.
A/N. First chapter, thank you for reading and I hope you like it.
Dear Mr. Potter,
I hope this letter finds you well.
I have some urgent matters to discuss with you, so I will be visiting you at Privet Drive on august 31st during the afternoon..
I cannot, for obvious reasons, discuss my visit in this letter. Please make sure you pack your belongings for you will be leaving your relatives that day as well.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts
Putting the letter down, Harry wondered what was so urgent that Professor Dumbledore could not wait untill September 1st. They would be seeing each other again on Hogwarts in two days after all.
Harry thought everything over in his mind, searching for any clue as to what the professor would want to discuss with him. It could be about the prophecy, but what was there to discuss? Harry already knew every line about it. He knew enough about it anyway, he would have to kill or be killed, and Harry knew he would never be able to destroy Voldemort.
Shuddering, Harry remembered that night. The night he was told about the prophecy, the night his godfather died. And it was all his fault. If he had not been so stupid, Sirius would still be alive.
His guilt burned inside him, eating him up. Every night he had nightmares about it, every night he saw Sirius falling, screaming it was all his fault, and every night Harry would wake up screaming and crying out that he was sorry.
He hardly left his room anymore. Nothing mattered, everyone he loved would die eventually. He couldn't put his friends in any more danger. If Voldemort was supposed to kill him, he might as well do it now.
But of course that would never happen, because he was the bloody boy-who-lived. Nothing was ever fair for him, people would be watching him. And Harry was too chicken to do it himself, so he had to wait until Voldemort would find him.
O, Sirius, how I wish you would still be here. Harry grabbed the mirror Sirius gave him and stared at it. But just as all the other times, he could see nothing else but himself in it.
A tapping brought Harry back to the present. Looking up he saw Hedwig sitting on the windowsill, tapping impatiently on the window.
Harry got up from his bed quickly before his aunt or worse, his uncle, would hear Hedwig as well. He opened up the window to let his owl in.
Hedwig flew over to her perch and held her leg out, showing Harry two letters tied on it. Getting them off, Harry saw that they were from Ron and Hermione. Harry already knew what they would say. His friends wrote him almost every week asking the same questions 'Are you alright?' No he was not bloody alright! 'Are your relatives treating you alright?' The same as always; starving me, ignoring me and locking me up in my room. 'Did you finish your homework already?'. That one would be coming from Hermione. But he always lied, telling them he was alright. His relatives where treating him just fine and he had already finished his work.
In truth, he didn't care anymore. Why would he do his homework ? Unless it would tell him how to defeat a dark lord he didn't give a damn about it.
His aunt and uncle locked him up in his room. The locks where still in place, as was the doggy flap. They would shove some food and water in and that was it. They would only let him out to use the bathroom. At least they would still let Hedwig in his room, but Harry wondered if that was because they didn't hear her or that they were scared someone would come by if he stopped answering their letters. He supposed it was the latter.
Having no desire to answer just yet, Harry set aside the letters. He decided he could read them later. He was tired now, he was always tired lately.
Hedwig hooted softly, nibbling on his finger. Harry gave her an owl treat. Hedwig was always there for him. Most of the time she would go out hunting, sometimes bringing back a mouse for Harry, like she knew was starved by his relatives. He could never get rid of it while she was still there of course, she was sharing her food with him. But once she flew off again he immediately threw the dead animal out his window, preferably in the neighbor's garden. Aunt Petunia would throw a fit if she saw a dead mouse in her perfectly trimmed garden.
It was getting darker outside, which meant before long Harry would be sleeping again. It also meant the nightmares would come soon.
Every night Harry tried to stay awake, but it never worked. He would fall asleep quickly, being as tired as he was.
Giving Hedwig a last stroke on her soft white feathers, Harry went back to his bed. Maybe a little reading would help him stay awake longer.
'Itty bitty baby Potter, can't even perform a proper spell!' Bellatrix's screech filled the atrium, sending chills down his spine. People began appearing behind her. There he was, Sirius Black. But instead of his usual smiling face, he was looking at Harry without any expression. It hurt Harry more than anything to see his godfather look at him like that, he had gotten so used to the warm smile he usually gave Harry.
Next to Sirius stood Cedric. With the same dead face. Both of them kept staring at Harry. Bellatrix Lestrange continued screeching insults at Harry, but Harry couldn'tt hear her. He could only stare at the lifeless faces of Sirius and Cedric.
Suddenly Cedric started laughing, not the warm joyful laughter he knew Cedric to have. But a dead hollow sound.
'People just keep dying for you, don't they Harry?'
Harry started walking towards them, but Bellatrix held him back. Her slim fingers wrapped around his arms. Screaming, Harry tried to break free from her grasp. He felt disgusted with the feeling of her fingers touching him. The fingers of a murderer, a death eater. The witch that had killed his godfather.
Sirius and Cedric turned around, walking away from him. Harry tried to fight harder, screaming for them to turn around.
'SIRIUS! CEDRIC! I'm sorry! Please come back, I'M SORRY!'
Bellatrix was just too strong. She continued to laugh at Harry, her arms never moving an inch.
'SIRIUS STOP! PLEASE COME BACK!'
Bolting upright, Harry realized he was back at number 4 Privet Drive. His hair was coated with sweat. He had a nightmare again, like he would ever be able to sleep without them. He wondered when he had fallen asleep. His DADA book was still lying on his bed, he must have dozed off reading it.
It was starting to get lighter outside. Harry looked at his watch and saw the date, it was August 31st. Professor Dumbledore was coming today. Tomorrow he would be going back to Hogwarts. He loved Hogwarts but he also dreaded the whispering and the stories people would be telling about him. He knew he wasn't doing good, but at least at privet drive people would let him be. Here he could think about the prophesy, about the godfather he had lost. No one would be questioning him about his nightmares because no one cared. Back at Hogwarts his friends would notice, they would want to know about everything that bothered him.
They would also notice how skinny he had gotten over the summer. Harry knew he looked horrible. He hadn't gone outside almost all summer, so his skin tone must be rivaling professor Snape's. Nothing he could do about that now.
His aunt was at his door, he recognized her light footsteps on the stairs. She shoved some dry toast and a glass of water through the dog flap.
'Aunt Petunia, could I use the bathroom please?' No response came. His aunt never responded, but he knew that she would let him out soon. She never refused him going to the bathroom, because he threatened that he would pee through the window if she would not let him out.
Harry heard the locks on his door opening. His aunt opened the door. A disgusted look was on her face as she looked him over.
After he used the bathroom, his aunt was still standing at his door, waiting for him so she could lock him up again. Guessing he should tell her about Dumbledore coming over, he stood in the opening, turning back to his aunt.
'My headmaster is coming over this afternoon. I received a letter from him yesterday.'
Harry saw Petunia's face sink, he knew she was afraid of anything from the magical world. She turned around, glancing at the stairs, afraid the Professor was already standing there. 'What do you mean, Potter? We told you we didn't want to see any of your freak friends in this house again!' She looked furious by the time she ended her sentence. Harry almost smiled at her stupidity, like he would ever invite the professor over himself.
'It's not like I invited him over for tea or something, I didn't ask for this either you know! He says it's important, and that it can not wait until tomorrow.'
Slamming the door in front of him, Petunia pulled Harry towards the bathroom again. Throwing him in it, she slammed the door only to return a few minutes later with clean clothes and a towel. Opening the door, she threw those in as well. 'Well, get a shower! What are you waiting for?'. She slammed the door closed again and heard her leave.
Stunned, Harry stood there for a while, staring at the door his aunt just slammed in his face. He had expected her to scream that no wizards were coming in her house, and Dumbledore would have to wait outside.
He did not expect her to make him take a shower and give him clean clothes. Maybe she knew she couldn't hold Professor Dumbledore outside the house if he wanted in, and she didn't want him to know about the conditions they kept Harry. After all, Professor Dumbledore was the one writing them asking to keep him safe and treat him well when he was brought over to them as a baby.
Deciding it didn't really matter what the reason was for her strange behavior, he started undressing. He winced when he saw his own appearance in the mirror. He got really underweight over the summer. He always turned skinny when staying with the Dursleys, but this summer he didn't really eat anything, he just wasn't hungry. His ribs were clearly visible under his skin. His hipbones where poking out as well as his shoulder blades.
But he was really grateful for Dudley's old clothes; they hid his body pretty well.
After his shower he went back to his room. But before he could close the door, his aunt screamed for him to come down. Rolling his eyes he obeyed, wondering what she wanted now.
When he got downstairs his aunt was sitting at the kitchen table, motioning for him to sit down opposite her. After Harry sat down, he watched his aunt in silence, waiting for her to start talking.
'Have you been writing to your headmaster?'
He didn't expect this question. He just stared at her for a moment, maybe he should scare her a little. If he told her he did write, she would go frantic. Vernon wasn't home so he didn't have to fear his anger. But he just wasn't in the mood, so he might as well tell the truth.
'No I didn't. I don't know why he is coming over. I already told you I don't want this either.'
His aunt looked him in the eye for a few seconds, contemplating if he was telling the truth. Finally she decided he wasn't lying. She got up and walked over to the kitchen, coming back with the plate of toast and the glass of water she brought up earlier.
'Eat. I can't have that man suspecting we don't feed you.' Like one plate of toast would make him less thin.
Harry snorted, but ate none the less. It wouldn't do to annoy his aunt, she looked terrified to say the least. She stood up again, wiping off invisible dust from her clothes. She was nervous, and Harry was enjoying it. He couldn't care less about her, after all these miserable years. They treated him like dirt, like a freak. Anger welled up inside him while watching his aunt fret about. They lock him up, starve him, yell at him or ignore him for days on end. As a kid he didn't know better, but now he saw how other families were, and he knew it wasn't normal to put a child in a cupboard.
His aunt turned around, watching him. He saw she was scared when she looked at him. She should be. Not of Dumbledore, he knew he would just blow it of, think nothing about anything that happened to him. To Dumbledore he was just a tool, a weapon to destroy Voldemort when the time was right.
No, if he wanted anything to change, he would have to do it himself. And he would, but first he wanted to know what was so important that Dumbledore needed to see him.
A/N Thank you for reading.