Chapter 2: The Boy Who Lived

A/N: Hey! I just wanted to thank all the readers for the support on this story. I mean, seriously, I didn't expect it to be this popular! 10 followers!

For the wonderful support, I posted another chapter. Early. I hope it's not too bad. It's a little short, so I promise that the next chapter will be longer. Probably 4k words.

Disclaimer: Let us be thankful that I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters.

Harry Potter was not enjoying his summer. No. He never enjoyed any of his summers. The Dursleys were rude and abused him. But Dumbledore always sent him back to them for the summer for reasons unknown. And Dumbledore was being mean. He didn't write to Harry to tell him what was going on in the wizarding world. Nor were his friends. They probably wouldn't even notice if he had disappeared. Yes, that's right. The-Boy-Who-Lived was not important enough to even write to. And Sirius would not write to him either. He had no idea what was going on outside the world of his house. And Dumbledore forbid him to receive the Daily Prophet. Damn.

So Harry had tried to find new ways to find out what was going on in the Wizarding World. And this meant that he had to sneak outside and listen to the Muggle news. He had to sneak because of his favourite aunt and uncle thought he was plotting something when he was listening to the news.

Damn Voldemort. If it weren't for him, he wouldn't be lying a bush straining his ears, trying to listen to Muggle news. Mean person. But then again, his parents might try to avoid him like their friends were doing. Oh well. Still, damn Voldemort for coming back and taking over his life. Damn Voldemort for getting Cedric Diggory and not letting him sleep peacefully at night. And damn Pettigrew for adding to this mess and bring Voldemort back to life.

Yes. Harry concluded that he just has bad luck.

While Harry was busy cursing everything he could think of, he felt a sudden tug. Damn. He didn't want more adventure. So he quickly checked his pocket for his wand and made a run to grab his trunk and broomstick. Because tugs clearly meant to panic. So he panicked.

He ignored Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's shouts of "Boy!" and ran to his room. He had a small debate in his head over which he should pick up if he felt a tug. Because tugs are bad. And it probably meant adventure. This was not good. So, he chose his broomstick in the spur of the moment because that made him happy. Then he sat on his bed and waited for the tugging sensation to start again.

Wait, he was waiting for a tugging sensation to start? Yes, Harry concluded he was going crazy. Damn. This is what happens when he has a lack of social contact. He starts talking to himself and getting distracted from the news because of bloody tugging sensations.

And then Harry felt the tugging sensation again. Yes, it is time to panic, Harry decided. So he grabbed his broomstick and stuffed his wand into his pocket and started to run around the room. This was making a lot of noise, and his uncle was not happy.

"BOY? WHAT NONSENSE ARE YOU UP TO UP THERE?"

Harry didn't answer, but had another spur of the moment decision. Harry decided that if this tugging sensation were Voldemort calling him to him, he would have to look better. Not like a Muggle. So, he dressed into his black Hogwarts robes that he thought made him look epic. He posed into a heroic pose and waited for the tugging to take him to Voldemort. Because he was going to fight Voldemort with a broomstick and a wand in his Hogwarts robes. He was just that cool. Because he was the boy who lived, or 'Boy' for short as his uncle called him.

As the tugging became more and more violent, Harry started to freak out some more at his spur of the moment ideas. Had he really just chose his broomstick as a weapon to fight Voldemort? But it made him happy, and if he was going for a long time, he would be suffering from some terrible withdrawal symptoms, and that would make him sad. Harry didn't want to be sad. So he held his broomstick with more confidence.

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon's voice rang in his ears.

This was not good. When Harry was being summoned to Voldemort, he didn't want the last voice he heard be Uncle Vernon's calling of 'Boy'. No, that would not be cool. So he tried fervently to think of someone else's voice.

"Harry Potter..." a high pitched voice said in his ear.

Harry shook his head. No, he didn't want to think of Voldemort either.

"Harry, why would you choose your broomstick over books? No! Harry, drop your broom and live with the books!" a furious female voice called into his ear.

No! It hurt to think of Hermione, who had forgotten him. He didn't want to think of a furious Hermione before he left to go and see Voldemort. That had to be a bad omen.

The tugging got more furious and Harry was unable to think of any other good voices that might make him smile. Damn. Harry really had the worst of luck. His brain didn't quite work.

Suddenly, his room began to disappear. No! Harry wasn't ready! He held onto his broom and dropped his wand at the last moment. Harry started to panic. This was not good. He was being summoned to Voldemort and he dropped his wand. Now he would have to fight Voldemort with his broomstick in Hogwarts robes. What would he do with the broomstick? Have fun flying with Voldemort?

So Harry tried to run away from the terrible tugging feeling and back into his room. This was especially difficult because he could not see it. But he had plenty of practice of groping his way around the room from when Dudley wore Harry's glasses. Because when Dudley couldn't see, he was as much of a threat as Voldemort.

Using his practiced hands, Harry felt his wand and closed his fingers around it. Then he let the tugging take him. Privet Drive disappeared and Harry felt himself surrounded with a blinding white light.

It was taking a little long. The pressure was too much for Harry as he thought he might explode. How would he fight Voldemort if he was not allowed to do magic outside of school? He didn't want to get expelled from Hogwarts! So, in another spur of the moment (he seemed to be doing a lot of those), he planned that he would not use magic when fighting Voldemort but fly! Because no one ever tried that before and it might work. Especially for Harry Potter, AKA The-Boy-Who-Lived.

The destination for Harry was not coming soon enough, and it needed to come, because Harry couldn't control the ridiculous thoughts coming into his head. Even if Voldemort were to read his mind, he would be unable to cast the killing curse at Harry because it would all be just so ridiculous. Harry just had to take some deep breaths and all would be well.

Suddenly, something began to materialize around him. An elaborate stoning, if you will. It reminded Harry of some place he had seen before. HOGWARTS!

Wait. Voldemort had gone out of his way to summon Harry to Hogwarts? Under Dumbledore's nose? Was he mental? Or was Dumbledore hurt? Harry couldn't think. He had to go save Dumbledore! Because Dumbledore couldn't protect himself and needed help from a fifteen year old boy. So Harry heroically mounted his broomstick he had been so wise to bring with him and flew towards Dumbledore's office.

Except maybe closing his eyes doing a heroic pose wasn't such a smart idea, because he banged against a wall. Groaning, he dismounted his broomstick. And then he had a horrible thought come into his head. It was dark! That meant it was after curfew at Hogwarts! Automatically, he reached inside his epic Hogwarts robes and realized he didn't have the invisibility cloak! Damn. Harry has bad luck.

But all was well. He would most certainly have the Marauder's Map, right? He wouldn't be dumb enough to forget the Map, would he? When he was being summoned to fight Voldemort, why wouldn't he want to check on what was going on in Hogwarts in the summer time? Damn. He didn't have the Map. He only had the stupid Firebolt he had thought to bring in the spur of the moment.

Hang on! It was summer time! So Harry didn't have to worry about getting caught. And he wouldn't be expelled! Harry was so happy, he started to dance.

Until he remembered Voldemort was there, hurting Dumbledore! He had to get onto his broomstick and save the day!

Unfortunately, without the Map, Harry had forgotten how to get to the Headmaster's office. Damn. He really had bad luck. He only figured out he was in the wrong place because he realized he had flown into the Great Hall. And Harry was tired. So, Harry decided that sleep came first because there would be no point saving Dumbledore from Voldemort if it were at his inconvenience. Because The-Boy-Who-Lived was too important to worry about Voldemort and was very busy with other things. Plus, he didn't want to see two people he was mad at. So Harry dozed off.

A/N: Thoughts? You know, I know this story is getting a lot of views (by my standards, anyway), and I'd be really thankful if some of you would take the time to review the story. Even if it's one word. It makes me happy.

Yeah, and sorry Harry appears to be dumb, I do realize that this is probably rather out of character for him. (I realize him forgetting how to get to the Headmaster's office is odd, but it just seemed right when I was writing it...) But he is trying to think fast, and it's hard to inject humour into a tugging feeling...as I said, this story actually has a serious plot, so it's rather hard to write. But you know, the more reviews, the faster I tend to write. As I have discovered in my two days of having an account :)

I want to thank my reviewers for the previous chapter: Sunshine72, Red17, and treehugger112010.