Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. He, and all of the characters mentioned in the book series of the same title, belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.
Warning: Half-Blood Prince spoilers.
Summary: As the Dark Lord once again rises to power, Harry Potter finds himself facing situations only found in his nightmares. The path of darkness is followed by those who have nothing to lose, but has Harry really reached that point?
Does not feature Horcrux storyline!
Dark Wings
Chapter One – Garden Mysteries
Harry Potter's eyes narrowed as he stared at the calendar tacked to the wall. July 29. Two days until he could take his Apparation test. Two days until he could use magic outside of Hogwarts. Two days until he could leave the Dursley's hellhole of a house forever.
He groaned and threw himself onto his bed, next to a large book of advanced defensive magic spells. He hadn't heard much word from anyone all summer, not that he'd had any high expectations. He was surprised that the Prophet hadn't started calling him 'The-Boy-Who-Was-Ignored.' But then, the Prophet hadn't printed much about him all summer, for which he was relieved.
He rose again from his bed with a sigh and crossed the room to try the door. The doorknob turned, but the door wouldn't open, which meant that the Dursleys had gone out. They'd again taken to locking him in his room, though they did usually leave it unlocked when they were home. Not that Harry spent any time with his relatives when he didn't have to. And he really didn't mind the time spent in his room, except in times like this one, when hunger had become an issue.
He crossed the small bedroom to Hedwig's cage and opened the door to stroke the snowy owl's head gently. The owl blinked her eyes open blearily and stared at him. He chuckled, and murmured, "Go back to sleep," in a soft voice. The owl hooted, sounding almost worried as she closed her eyes again and slowly returned to sleep.
Harry returned to his bed and lay down, dropping the defensive magic book to the ground without care to the noise it made. No one was around to yell at him, and he wouldn't have really card if there had been.
Moments later, he'd drifted to sleep. At least, he thought he must have, because he wasn't aware of his Uncle Vernon's return to the house, nor of her entry into Harry's room until the man's screaming of his name woke him up.
"Potter!" Harry groaned as the voice rattled through his skull, and winced as he was hit in the stomach by the book he had earlier tossed to the floor. He creaked his eyes open, aware that the large man was standing over him, an extremely angry expression on his slowly purpling face.
"What?" Harry asked groggily. Didn't his uncle realise it was rude to wake someone up when they were obviously sound asleep? Apparently not, and Harry's confused and tired expression seemed to anger the man more, though the only showing of it was an increase in his scowl.
"Don't you 'what' me. What the hell did you do to our garden?" he asked angrily. Harry blinked blankly at him. Garden? Vernon had woken him up because something had happened to the garden? He'd been locked in his room the entire time, how the hell could he have harmed the garden? But Vernon wouldn't believe that it hadn't been Harry – the man was an idiot.
"What're you talking about?" he asked blandly, moving to the side and standing. He made his way to the open bedroom door and pushed past his cousin, who had gathered there to see his father beat up on Harry. Large and lacking in neck, Dudley Dursley shied back as he passed.
Harry sprinted down the hallway and leapt down the stairs, ignoring his aunt's protesting exclamation and his uncle's shouts as he threw open the front door of the house and stepped outside.
What met his eyes both surprised and terrified him. The garden was in ruins. The neat flower beds had been trampled, the hedges looked as if they'd been burnt, and there were overturned garden ornaments and shattered planters all over the once grassy, now muddy, front lawn.
Harry spun to face his relatives, "You think I did this?" he exclaimed. He glowered at Vernon as the man nodded, a look on his face that said it was entirely the fault of Harry, and that he wouldn't be persuaded otherwise. An argument that spanned the next quarter of an hour resulted in Harry cleaning up the yard.
He frowned at the shards of a planter as he picked up the pieces. There were definitely large sections missing, but where had they gone? He figured that whoever had done this was probably responsible for stealing the missing pieces as 'souvenirs', but it was hard to tell for sure. And who could have done this? He supposed that it could have easily been Dudley and his gang – after all, Harry wasn't sure that Dudley had gone out with his parents. Yes, it could easily have been them – what better way to get Harry in trouble?
Still, something told Harry that Dudley hadn't been the one to do this. Not that his intuition mattered. If his uncle thought that Harry had done something, than Harry had done it, no matter whom it had actually been. It was quite annoying, but something that he'd be rid of in two days time. If only those days would go quickly.
Night had fallen before the front of the house looked anything nearing respectable. The hedges had had to be all but removed, the lawn made to look somewhat healthy, and many of the flowers uprooted from the garden. Harry groaned as he heaved a bag of garbage – mainly broken things – into a corner of the garage and then entered the house.
He returned the glare Petunia gave him as he trudged up the stairs to bathe. Let the woman glare. It was her bloody husband's fault that Harry was covered in muck in the first place.
His scar burned as he shed his clothing in the otherwise spotless bathroom, and he glanced in the mirror, almost expecting it to be brighter than it normally was. There was no difference though, however inflamed it felt. He scrubbed a hand across it, wondering with more curiosity than he should have had about what Lord Voldemort was planning. Sometimes, it frustrated him that Voldemort was using occlumency against him. True, the nightmares had terrified him, but he'd also been far more informed of the Dark Lord's movements when he'd been having them.
It was a lose-lose situation, he mused as he stepped into the shower and allowed already running water to flow over him. The hot water scorched across his skin in a manner that was almost calming, relaxing muscles that had tensed up, and soothing others that were sore from working in the garden. Who had done it?
He was no closer to figuring it out twenty minutes later when he was standing back in his room. He signed and shook his head. There was no reason to worry about it. It had probably just been someone with a grudge against the Dursleys. Well, Dudley anyway. He figured that a lot of people had to have a grudge against Dudley.
Harry shook his head to rid his hair of excess water and slipped a shirt over his head. It had once belonged to Dudley, but then, most of the clothes he wore while at the Dursley's did. Most of the time it was far too warm to wear any of Mrs Weasley's jumpers, and he didn't really own any other muggle clothes.
He pulled on a baggy pair of pants and left the room at the sound of his uncle hollering his name. He entered the kitchen – spotless, as usual – and sat at the place at the table that was designated to him. As was usual, it had the least amount of food set before it. Two days, he reminded himself sternly, bolting down the meal and rising to clear his plate and leave the kitchen. A pointed glare from his uncle made him sit back down.
"What?" he asked disgruntled. Both Vernon and Petunia's eyebrows shot up. Dudley glanced nervously at Harry, and then hastened the pace at which he was eating. No one spoke for a moment.
Petunia glanced at Vernon as he finally opened his mouth to speak. "We have to discuss your punishment, of course," he said plainly. Harry gaped. Punishment? What had he done? It then dawned on him that the Dursleys still thought he had ruined their yard.
"I won't accept punishment for something I didn't do," he said plainly. Vernon's eyes narrowed again, and his face began to take on the puce shade that it usually gained when he was beyond angry at Harry.
"You're living under my roof, boy. You'll accept punishment for whatever I say," his uncle growled. Harry rolled his eyes. The Dursleys had forgotten that wizards came of age at 17. At least, Vernon had (which wasn't surprising in the least). Petunia, however, seemed to be pondering.
"Your birthday is the day after tomorrow," she murmured. Harry resisted the urge to say something sarcastic in return. It appeared that his aunt was going to stand up for him for once. Instead, he settled for a quick nod. Petunia tapped her fingers on the table top. Everyone stared at her – Dudley even stopped eating in order to do so – and waited for her to speak.
Finally, she did, "You'll be 17, which is the legal age for…" she paused here, trying to find a way around saying the word 'wizards.' She settled on, "Your kind," eventually. Harry nodded again. Being told he had to leave early July 31 wouldn't bother him – he was planning to do so anyway – but if Petunia said anything else…
However, it wasn't his aunt who continued speaking. "You'll be leaving?" Vernon asked. His voice was hopeful, and Harry simply blinked at him and nodded dumbly. Why would he stay any longer than was necessary?
Vernon grinned, and then a frown creased his forehead. "You're to go to your room and stay there until you leave," Harry shrugged. He'd expected that, "No meals," Vernon added. Harry rolled his eyes, stood, and left the kitchen before his sentence could be added to.
No meals. Well, that wasn't anything new. He fell onto his bed and pulled a scrap of parchment, intending to scribble a letter to Ron asking about Apparation testing. He fell asleep before he had the chance.
The next day moved slowly. Even though Harry had managed to sleep late, it still seemed to him that the afternoon was crawling by. He was eager, he realised. Eager to see his friends again and eager to leave the Dursleys for good. He read through another chapter of the defensive spell book he'd been looking through the night prior, and was working on the wand motion for it (a jab and swish movement) when his uncle came barging into the room.
The man's eyes narrowed into points as they fixed onto Harry's wand, and Harry quickly stuffed the strip of wood away. "I wasn't doing anything," he muttered quickly. His uncle's eyes said that they didn't believe him.
"I want you out by 10 tomorrow morning," Vernon ordered. Harry shrugged. He'd leave when he was ready, though it would probably be before 10. Long before 10, he hoped. Ignoring his uncle who still stood in the doorway, Harry walked to the small wardrobe that rested against the far wall, opened it and pulled his Firebolt from its dark confines. He proceeded in meticulously checking for scratches, before progressing to the tail and checking for any loose twigs. Clippers from his broom care-kit took off two. He was beginning to polish the handle when his uncle spoke again.
"You can't just… Teleport?" he asked blandly. Harry looked up at him and shook his head with a slight roll of his eyes. Teleport? Uncle Vernon really was an ignorant muggle.
"Wizards don't teleport, Uncle Vernon," he said sounding exasperated. Vernon winced at hearing the word 'wizard' being spoken to him. "And I can't legally Apparate until I have my licence." Vernon harrumphed.
"You're not flying out of my yard in broad daylight!" Vernon bellowed. Harry blinked at him. An ignorant and extremely dense muggle.
"Disillusionment charm on my trunk, my broomstick and myself," Harry explained blandly. "I don't feel like being the target of media attention, muggle or otherwise." Vernon glared at him, and Harry returned the look. He'd thought of everything, he wasn't stupid.
Vernon didn't appear to have any further objections, and turned to leave the room with a scowled, "No later than 10, boy." Harry rolled his eyes as the door slammed shut and one of the bolts slid into place. He returned to polishing his Firebolt. Half an hour later found Harry smelling of broom polish, sitting on his bed and holding the shining racing broom in his hands. He placed it to the side of the room as he heard the bolt slide back again. It surprised him that it was Dudley who came swaggering in.
His cousin sneered at the broomstick and made to grab it. Harry's wand was out at once, pointed toward the pudgy blonde boy, "Touch it and I'll curse you," he warned in a wary voice. Dudley jumped back, his eyes showing much the same fear as his father's had as he stared at the wand.
"Y-you wouldn't. D-dad would-" he began to stutter. Harry rolled his eyes.
"I would," he said blandly, but lowered his wand as Dudley moved father away from the Firebolt. "And Uncle Vernon couldn't do anything, seeing as I'm leaving tomorrow," he knew Dudley had already known this, but the boy's eyes lit up anyway. Harry instantly had his guard up. His cousin being this happy was usually bad news for Harry.
Memories of 'Harry-hunting' came back. "What do you want, Dudley?" Harry asked. His cousin shrugged, swaggered over to the bed and sat down, completely uninvited. Harry glared at him, but his cousin deemed not to notice, and then turned to face him with a blank look on his face. The boy really was stupid.
"Dad really hates you, you know," the other boy started slowly. Harry blinked. Had it taken 16 years for Dudley to figure that out? He waited for the boy to continue – there had to be some other reason for his approach. "I think it's 'cause he's scared of you." Harry nodded. That, and his uncle was a racist idiot.
"Is there a point to this conversation?" Harry asked in a bored tone. His cousin shrugged and Harry rolled his eyes before standing and beginning to throw things absently into his trunk. Dudley picked up a spell book from the floor and read the cover aloud, though Harry barely heard the murmuring of 'Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4,' as he went around the room gathering other books.
The trunk was nearly full when Dudley spoke again, "I've always thought that Mum might like you a bit, even if she doesn't show it." Harry snorted. Aunt Petunia, like him? The woman had a way of showing it if she did.
"Somehow, I doubt it," he said plainly, looking around the room and sighing at the amount of stuff that was still lying around. He pondered the space issues for a moment. Enchanting the trunk would be easiest. Of course, if he didn't want to be expelled from Hogwarts – again – he'd have to wait until the next morning to charm it.
Dudley shrugged and stood, "Whatever," he muttered, "See ya, Potter." And he turned and left the room. Harry stared after his cousin in wonder. What had Dudley been thinking? Harry blinked and looked around after a moment, cursing Dudley silently. 'A Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4' was missing. Bloody Dursleys.
He tried to open the door, annoyed when it wouldn't budge. He eyed the clock on the wall, contemplating blasting the door from its frame. But it wasn't yet midnight. He groaned and leaned back against the hardwood of the door. Leave it to Dudley to make his leaving more difficult. Hedwig hooted suddenly, and Harry looked at her surprised. She was staring out the window. It was one hour to midnight, what could be bothering the owl?
Wand in hand, Harry walked to the window and cautiously peered out. It was darker than was normal outside of the house. Harry didn't think it was possible for all of the street lights to have burned out, but it seemed that that was the case. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as a dark shape moved in the yard, near where the ruined hedges stood. A burst of light appeared, momentarily illuminating the darkened area. Four figures in large black cloaks stood there. The light had been a spell.
There were Death Eaters outside the Dursleys.
Author's Corner
First chapter finished D Now, just to warn everyone, I made up the summary on the spot. Which is why it's pretty bad. But it'll probably change as I write more chapters. ...I hope
Review, and I'll probably get chapter 2 up faster, since I just have to type it… Motivate me to type!
Until chapter 2---