Chapter1: The Unwanted
Visitors.
Harry woke up in the morning incredibly late. He gasped,
scrambled out of bed, and quickly shoved on his shirt and a pair of jeans. What
had he been thinking, getting up so late? Surly the Dursley's would punish him.
Feeling his stomach couldn't sink any lower, he ran from his room, and bounded
down the stairs in one leap.
He could hear the delighted chatter of the Dursley's,
crowded around the kitchen table behind the door he was just about to open. The
Dursley's didn't even notice Harry walked inside. They just ignored him as
always, as if any chair with Harry in it was empty. Harry felt the feeling rush
back into his legs. So far, they hadn't yelled at him, our even worse, they
hadn't notice Harry was late for breakfast.
He miserably took only one slice of
toast and a strip of bacon form the plates in the center of the table. Dudley,
who was sitting next to his big, beefy father, was gobbling down his scrambled
eggs, making his four chins wobble and flop. Harry's Aunt Petunia was forcing a
dozen helpings of food for him each meals. 'My Duddy-kins must stay pleasantly
plump for his mommy-poo'. All this baby talk sickened Harry, as he fought the
urge to vomit on his plate. Then Uncle Vernon hastily looked over at Harry from
his newspaper he was reading.
"You, boy!" he said loudly, and
Dudley stopped to watch. He loved to watch his cousin get into trouble.
"Do something with your hair!" Vernon roared, "You look
to much like that retched James boy!"
Harry felt his nerves falter, and
his rage rise in his chest.
"Vernon, we can't do anything to the
boy" said Aunt Petunia, "His hair keeps growing back. Tried to sear it all off,
and it grew back the next morning!"
She and Vernon exchanged dark looks,
while Dudley looked horrified at Harry. But to Harry's immense relief, there
was a loud knock on the door from beyond the door into the hall. Uncle Vernon
belched, and stood up.
"I'll get it," he announced
importantly. Harry rolled his eyes as his uncle waddled out of the kitchen and
into the next room. Aunt Petunia continued to stare at him in disgust, and make
comments about his 'flee filled hair' and 'ugly scar' until Harry had a strong
urge to crack her over the head with a frying pan. Instead, He said nothing,
and prodded his burnt toast with his fork. Today was and ordinary, miserable
and lonely day with the Dursley's, and with no word from Ron or Hermione.
Dudley smirked at him.
It was when Harry had started on his
bacon when he heard it. In the next room, his uncle Vernon let out a petrified
scream. Harry accidentally spit his orange juice over on Dudley in sudden
shock. But before Dudley had came around to tell him off, Uncle Vernon, looking
positively horrified, skidded into the kitchen, a mad look in his eyes. He
aimlessly pointed a trustingly finger at Harry.
"YOU!" he yelled, as if in a loss
for words, "YOU-THIS IS YOUR DOING!"
Wondering how he could possibly
blame him for doing anything when he was in the next room, Harry looked
meaningfully back at him.
"VERNON!" shrieked aunt Petunia from
the corner, eyes widening with horror. She was pointing outside to the trees.
She launched herself into a corner with Dudley, who was squealing like a pig,
and running in circles. Completely amazed by what he didn't understand, Harry
was left alone in the middle of the kitchen, while the Dursley's had turned the
table over, and hid behind it.
"W-wha-" Harry started, but froze.
There was some sort of bright green light was flashing from the outside. Harry
ran for the window, and looked out. He gasped.
About
twenty tall wizards in black robes had their wands out. Harry instinctively
recognized them; he had seen them last year.
They were
death eaters. But Harry had known the pale wizard in the front more than the
rest. Lord Voldemort himself was standing within ten feet from the window, a
hungry look in his red eyes. But their spells were doing nothing to the house.
To Harry's amazement, the light hadn't even reached the bricks. A pink,
transparent like force field was surrounding the house, keeping the deadly
curses away for only a fraction of the time. Those must be the protection
Dumbledore told me about, Harry mentally told himself. But it looked as though
the pink wall was fading
Harry started to panic. He ran from the window, gripping
his hair in horror. The Dursley's were watching him in fright. Harry took on
last look at them, and ran out of the room. Harry could see out the living room
window the same force field. The same was in the window by the door. Yet on
either side, the force field was slowly fading as the curses hit it. It
wouldn't last long. How on earth was he going to live through this? Voldemort
was outside with his death eaters, and Harry was quite alone. He didn't need to
weigh his chances.
But then a sudden idea hit his head. His wand- but
he'd be expelled for using magic. He was under the age limit. But there was no
way out. Besides, his uncle locked it up with the rest of his school supplies.
Surely the ministry would let him if was a life or death situation. The
Dursley's could die too, after all. But then a sickening crack, followed by a
cold, high pitched laughter that rang in his ears. They got through the
defenses.
Harry made up his mind, and dashed forwards and back
into the kitchen. The Dursley's were now clinging onto each other like
lifesavers. Harry dived to the ground, avoiding a curse, and skidded over to
them.
"I NEED THE KEY TO THE CUBOARD!" Harry yelled to
Vernon over the noise, "I NEED MY WAND!"
Harry knew he couldn't get into trouble at a time
like this for mentioning the fact that he was a wizard. His uncle hesitated,
while Dudley screamed, eyes widening at Harry.
"LOOK, I WONT KILL YOU OR ANYTHING!" bellowed Harry,
and Petunia shrieked again, "DO YOU WANT TO LIVE OR NOT? GIVE ME THE KEYS!"
Uncle Vernon didn't reach into his back pocket.
Instead, he starred at him in horror, his lower lip trembling.
"Y-y-you'll be e-e-expelled!" he finally said. Harry
was starting to get angry.
"SINCE WHEN DO YOU CARE?" he asked loudly, holding
out his hand for the key.
Uncle Vernon starred at him in protest, and jumped
when another death eater hit the house, this time upstairs. Harry heard a
crunching sound, as if the roof was about to cave in.
"D-D-DO YOU K-K-KNOW THAT M-M-MAN?" stuttered Aunt
Petunia, terrified. Harry had no idea why they were wasting his time.
"YES, I KNOW HIM!" he called back, as the blasting
sound grew louder, "HE'S LORD VOLDEMORT! HAGRID TOLD ME IN MY FIRST YEAR, REMEMBER? HE MURDERED MY PARENTS!"
Harry paused, and looked menacingly at them, trembling all over. What if he
never gave him the keys? But the look on his face-
"GIVE ME THE KEYS!" Harry yelled, getting angrier.
Finally, his uncle reached into his back pocket, and threw him a long chain of
keys. Harry shoved them into his belt, stood up, and pushed the table against
the wall so that the Dursley's would have at least a little bit of protection.
Then Harry flew down the out of the kitchen, and
into the hall way, hands over his head to block the falling debris from the
ceiling, which seemed as though it was caving in. He skidded to a halt in front
of the cupboard, and fumbled for the keys. The round silver one opened the
door, and Harry instantly grabbed his wand from his trunk. He could feel
himself shaking all over, and his shirt was wet with sweat. Nervous as he was,
he made his way back to the kitchen.
The Dursleys still huddled in the corner of the
room, behind the up-turned table where Harry had left them. He wrenched it
over, and pointed his wand straight at them. Dudley screamed.
"DEPENDIEAN!" Harry bellowed, and a bright orange
bolt of light streamed out of his wand. A moment later, the Dursleys were
inside a sort of bubble-like transparent wall that would repel spells. Uncle
Vernon was shaking a fist at him, as Harry set off back into the hall.
He knew he hadn't had a chance facing Voldemort and
his death eaters, but at least he could use his wand trying to fight them off.
At least the Dursley's are safe, thought Harry bitterly. But then he froze.
The house ended where he was. His mouth fell open in
shock. He could see the other side of the house split in half, and lying on the
ground quite a while away from him. And between the two halves was the man
Harry had hated for seven, long solid years.
Lord
Voldemort was standing, twirling his wand in his long, white fingers,
surrounded by his death eaters. He was wearing his usual sneer that was the
only feature that was lightened up on his face. His red eyes flashed with envy
and almost greed.
"Harry" he said, trying to sound
pleasant, but failing badly. Harry wasn't going to fall for it, "I do hope the
Dursley's do not blame you for my entrance on the lines that I will kill you
this time."
Harry felt his scar suddenly seer
with a fresh, wave of pain. He clapped his hand to his forehead briefly, but
stopped. He just noticed Peter Peddigrew was standing amongst the death eaters,
starring at Voldemort like he was a saint. His robes were much more mangled
than last time he saw him. And he still had that silver hand… the one Voldemort
have given him the night of his rebirth. Harry's gaze looked more furious as he
found out what he was facing, and what odds he had against him.
Maybe he had a chance. Maybe it
wasn't just luck that protected him from the dark forces. Maybe he was just to
good for Voldemort to realize. But what were the odds of him giving up, or even
coming back alive?
It seemed slim. Harry was facing the
man who killed Cedric, his parents, and so many others. They didn't deserve
that. And now he's attacking the Dursley's to get to Harry, while Harry himself
doesn't know why he wants him so badly. That made his head hurt even more, but-
What if he could pay him back for
all the sins he had caused? Ginny almost died because of Voldemort. Sirius was
on the run because of Peddigrew, and Harry couldn't live with him. That would
have been his dream. Cedric died because he Voldemort was planning on killing
Harry. He murdered him for no reason at all. And his parents… what had they
done to deserve what they had received? Nothing, in Harry's matter.
All his good feelings had somehow
melted away, and were replaced by strands of sheer hate. His face contorted
into rage, and he raised his wand, pointing it at Peddigrew.
"TRANSFIXIDNIUM!" he bellowed. But
Wormtail was completely taken by surprise. Harry's wand erupted with a think,
stream of white light, and hit him hard. He screamed as the light hit him, and
a moment later, he was flying though the air, and landed face down on the grass
of the neighbors yard. He was, without any hesitation, out cold. Voldemort let
out a yell of anger, and pointed his wand at Harry.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screeched, and a
bright green jet of light shot towards Harry. But Harry knew this was coming.
He rolled sideways, completely avoiding the curse. It hit the ground with a
sickening crack, burning a hole into the ground about the size of a manhole.
"INPEDIMEDIA!" Harry shouted, and
instantly, about four or five death eaters hit the cold ground, stunned.
Voldemort laughed again.
"Harry, this is out first duel your
actually fighting against me," he said, sneering coldly. Harry gulped. His
second thoughts were about to drift back into his head, but he fought them
back.
"Peddigrew," said Harry, "Why on
earth would he stay with you? You threatening to kill him if he leaves you or
something? I don't think he'd stay with you by his liking."
Voldemort stopped, and to Harry's
surprise, thought hard about what he had said.
"Yes, Harry, he is my servant," he
answered, "But why am I telling you this? Why waist my voice by talking to you?
You are going to die, you know."
He raised his wand once more.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screamed, and
another fresh beam of light poured out of his wand, and headed towards Harry.
But Harry was smart enough to know not stay were he was. He dived to the
ground, avoiding another curse.
Now Harry had to do it. It seemed as
though his thoughts of sheer hate of Voldemort had devoured him. His heart was
pounding so fast against his ribs, it was painful. He raised his wand.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry bellowed.
Voldemort didn't know what had happened. Harry's mouth fell open, and watched
as Voldemort's wand slipped from his grasp, and dart towards Harry. He caught
it in one raised hand. He couldn't have done what he had thought he had done.
It must have been a miracle dream sequence. Harry lowered his hand, and gulped.
Voldemort's wand was indeed in his hand, the identical match for his wand.
Voldemort was now wand less, and starring at Harry with almost fear in his evil
eyes.
The
remaining death eaters were starring at him in shock. Harry snapped the wand he
held in his hand into two pieces, and threw them into a nearby bush, still
amazed with himself.
"KILL HIM!" Voldemort suddenly shrieked, and about
half a dozen death eaters raced towards Harry, who had no time to react. He
felt his insides whirl around in blood and darkness as the impact of the
Critaticus curse hit him from all sides. He fell to the ground, face down in a
heap, twisting and screaming in pain. The familiar feeling came back to him. Like
knives slicing up his insides, and the thought of never ending pain.
Harry was shrivelled on the ground, howling. The
death eaters wouldn't stop. Harry gasped. He even recognized them. The same
faces he had seen last year. Mac Nair, Lucius Malfoy, and even Crabbe, Goyle
and Malfoy were surrounding him, closing in, all snickering and pointing at
him. Harry just about had enough. Through the dense blood surrounding his eyes,
he felt the grass around him. To his relief, he felt his hand reach something long
and thin. His wand.
"S-STUPIFY!" yelled Harry, with difficulty. Warm,
think white light surrounded him, and Harry felt the weight of the death eaters
release him, and fall to the ground.
A moment later, Harry heard nothing
but silence. He could taste blood, and his leg was numb with constant pain.
Trying his best not to pass out, he raised his head off the grass, and focused
his vision more clearly. Death eaters littered the ground around him and-
Voldemort was nowhere in sight.
He got up unsteadily to his feet,
clutching a hedge for support. Voldemort was indeed gone. He hadn't hit him
with his curse; it wouldn't do any damage to him. He could apparate, yet he
could see Pettigrew's unconscious body was still lying in the opposite lot,
motionless. Harry's head hurt just thinking, so he stopped, and dropped his
wand to the ground.
His mind dissolved into pitch dark, and his body
became limp once more. He fell to his knees, feeling he couldn't support his
own weight, and toppled to the ground. Whirls of colour swam past his eyes as
he quickly became unconscious.
A/N: Once again, the big heads return. I'll try to hurry
with the next chapter…
