Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.
Chapter Two: A fond adieu
Two Years ago
Harry's summer had been the worst of his life, and that was saying something. Not only had he been forced, "for his own protection", to have to remain with the Dursley's for the entire summer and all the joy that that had entailed; he'd cooked every meal of every day, often forced to watch helplessly as his ungrateful relatives ate the entire meal leaving him with barely a scrap of leftovers to sustain himself before tackling the dishes. He cleaned the house, did the wash, mowed the lawn, trimmed the hedge, washed and waxed Uncle Vernon's car, weeded the flower garden, painted the garage and so on and so on and on...
After working on his homework well into the night, Harry would fall into bed for a few precious hours of torture filled nightmarish sleep before rising to begin his long arduous day all over again. On the sole occasion that he'd overslept, his Uncle Vernon had unceremoniously kicked him awake and dragged him down the stairs by his heels, to prepare the family's breakfast. It had been easy for Uncle Vernon to beat and abuse him. Lack of sleep and proper nutrition, coupled with long hours of backbreaking work had left Harry a weakened shell of his former self. He couldn't even use his magic to defend himself from his Uncle's frequent abuse as Dumbledore had forbidden him the use of his wand.
Harry's seventeenth birthday had come and gone without notice, except for two missives. He'd received a generic note from Professor Dumbledore that expressly forbade him from using his wand, despite the fact that he was now considered an adult in the wizarding world. Dumbledore had made the excuse that he was not to draw any unwanted attention to himself whilst still residing safely within his blood relative's home.
Safe- Ha! That was a crock. His abusive uncle did far more damage to him than any Death Eaters could previously claim.
The only other bright spot had been the handmade birthday card he'd received from Ginny Weasley. Despite the cruelty of existence, he at least had the love and companionship of his friends,.. at least he'd thought so?Neither Ron nor Hermione had contacted him a single time during the whole summer. Ginny had mentioned in the note she'd placed in his card that Ron and Hermione were now actively involved in the Order of Phoenix as they were already of age, and had been away on Order business most of the summer. He'd sent them a note some days ago, but hadn't seen Hedwig since. He found himself growing very worried for his owl, as Hedwig had never been gone so long before.
Harry longed for his friends and thankfully he'd see them on the Hogwart's Express when they returned to Hogwart's in only a few short weeks. Until then, thoughts of Ginny Weasley would keep him buoyed, as they had the entire summer. Harry wasn't sure when it had happened, or if he was even sure that he'd really know if it happened, ...but, somewhere during the previous year he'd developed strong feelings for Ginny Weasley, These feeling he was beginning to suspect were... love? Of course, he'd never dared share his feelings openly with Ginny, though she was currently single and so,.. Oh, so tempting. He couldn't even really consider a relationship with anyone right now, not with the threat of an early demise, at the hands of Voldemort, hanging over his head. He couldn't risk getting involved with anyone right now, least of all Ginny. Anyone in a relationship with Harry Potter would be in constant jeopardy and that was something that he would never want for Ginny, no matter how much he secretly longed for her.
The letter from Hogwarts arrived two weeks prior to the start of term. Harry had been dismayed to learn that Professor McGonagal would be obtaining his school supplies for him, as it was still too dangerous for him to venture out in public. Even more disconcerting was the absence of his Quidditch Captain's badge, from his Hogwart's letter. He'd been Captain of the Gryffindor team last year and they'd steam rolled the competition in route to win Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup for the third year running. The absence of his Captain's badge must have been just an oversight on the part of Professor McGonagal. She too was probably overwhelmed with all the work she did between being Deputy Headmistress and one of the officers of the Order of Phoenix.
Harry had half hoped he would make Head Boy for his final year at Hogwart's, or at least Prefect. He'd had a good sixth year and finished in the top three on his finals. He also ran the D.A. and received nothing but praise for his efforts. All the D.A. finished tops in their DADA exams. He knew he shouldn't really care about such things, not with the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head. If he should survive the final confrontation, which was doubtful, he'd still need to make a life for himself in wizarding society. His family and Sirius had left him a fortune, but he couldn't just sit around and do nothing for the rest of his life, that just wasn't him. Good grades was a must if he had any hope of making the Auror Academy and putting Head Boy or at least Prefect on his application, certainly couldn't hurt his chances.
Harry sighed despondently. No Head Boy badge,.. not even Prefect.. and now even his Quidditch Captain standing appeared in jeopardy.
It was just another let down in a long summer full of them.
September the First, couldn't get here soon enough for his liking. To be with his friends and back at Hogwarts, the only home he'd ever truly known, was all he had to look forward to these days. At the very least he could count on getting full meals on a regular basis. He'd not had the luxury of a full stomach since he's left Platform 9 and 3/4 and arrived at Private Drive.
Harry packed the last of his meager possessions into his trunk, including the still empty cage of his beloved owl. Hedwig had still yet to return and Harry despaired for her. After a few despondent moments, he shook himself out of his dark thoughts and took a last thankful look at the tiny bedroom he'd being seeing for the last time.
Thank God I never have to set foot in this house again!
He shrunk his trunk and put the tiny results of his charm work, in his front pocket. It was the last time he'd be here and he'd be damned if he was going to give his relatives the luxury of watching him struggle under the weight of his trunk. Harry made his way downstairs, summoning up his Gryffindor courage to have to ask his uncle for a ride to the train station. The Dursleys knew he was leaving today as he'd always left on the first of September. He'd asked his uncle about a ride to the train depot only last week, but had received only a noncommittal grunt in replay to his request.
Harry hit the landing of the foyer with quiet exuberance. His Uncle hated it when he was loud in the hallway, not that he ever was, but he saw no reason to provoke the man, especially since he needed his uncle to provide him with transportation this last time. Harry was startled to find his relatives smartly dressed and waiting for him at the doorway.
Maybe they wanted to at least part on good terms, he thought compassionately.
Harry walked tentatively up to his waiting relatives.
"Well,.. er. I guess this is it then?" he began nervously in a friendly tone, grinning uncertainly.
"Where's your trunk?" his aunt asked suspiciously.
"I shrunk it. It's in my.." Harry began to answer before his aunt cut him off.
"I don't need to know the details of that unnaturalness! she snapped. "As long as you have everything I'm satisfied. You do have everything? Haven't left a mess for me upstairs, have you?" she snapped impatiently.
"No, Aunt Petunia. I've got everything with me." Harry answered in a dejected tone as he realized her only concern was that he's removed all trace of his having ever been in their home.
Harry turned his eyes on his uncle and asked sheepishly.
"Can I get a lift then?"
His uncle Vernon narrowed his beady eyes and grinned in a wicked way that put Harry immediately on his guard.
"A lift eh, well certainly, my boy. Dudley?" he called for his offish son.
As if on cue, Dudley grabbed Harry up in a bear hug and hoisted him up off the ground.
"Hey!" Harry protested uselessly. "What are you playing at?"
He struggled to no avail as his Uncle smiled warmly, answering as he opened the front door and motioned Dudley forward.
"We're giving you exactly what you asked for; a lift. You're still as ungrateful as always, I see. Well, it's to be expected from someone of your ilk. Dudley, do be sure to wish your cousin a fond adieu."
With a grunt of effort, Dudley launched Harry through the door way and laughed cruelly as he watched his cousin crash face first into the paved approach.
Harry 's broken nose gushed blood and he could feel some of his teeth knock loose from the impact, but the worst of it was the cruel laughter he heard from behind as he struggled to pull himself up from the pavers.
"That's out with old rubbish! Well done, Dudders." his uncle chortled from the doorway.
"That was fun. I could haul him up and do it again, Dad?" Dudley offered wickedly.
"That's enough you two." Harry could hear his Aunt's rescuing voice through his watering eyes and his futile attempts to staunch the flow of blood from his ruined nose.
He turned gratefully to offer his aunt tentative thanks, but on seeing her face from the doorway, the sentiment died in his throat.
Aunt Petunia was smiling sweetly as she addressed her husband and son. "Let's go out and celebrate like we've planned. Our liberation from that seventeen year burden, my hated sister saddled us with, is finally at an end." she said with a nod in Harry's direction and then slammed the door close behind her.
Harry's ears stung with the sounds of laughter from within Number Four Private Drive as he made his way unsteadily down the approach and through the fence gate.
He made his way to the filling station about a mile away. He ignored the odd looks he'd received from the station attendant as he stumbled into the men's lavatory round the side of the station. The cold water he splashed across his face was a welcome relief from the throbbing of his nose. He washed the blood from his cheeks and neck before chancing a look in the bathroom mirror.
He had never considered himself handsome, but this was certainly no improvement.
His nose was squashed over toward the left side of his face and his eyeteeth were broken and already deep black bruises ringed his eyes. He looked like a banshee or the ghoul that in habituated the Weasley's attic. His glasses were smeared with blood, the frames broken and the left lens was cracked. He muttered Repairo , and was pleased to find his glasses whole once again.
By necessity, as Dumbledore had forbidden him to use his wand, Harry had been practicing wandless spells throughout the summer and had already achieved a fundamental grasp of basic spells. Briefly, he considered trying a healing charm on his ruined nose, but thought better of the idea as he didn't want to risk making more of a mess out of his already damaged features, not that it could get much worse. He opted instead for placing a glamour charm on his appearance, choosing to hide his injuries from public notice until he could see madam Pomfrey back at Hogwarts. The Hogwart's healer would make quick work of repairing his injuries, just like always. He couldn't wait for her to have a go at his shoulder and ribs, the product of Uncle Vernon's most recent abuses. His shoulder ached mercilessly and he could feel a catch in his side every time he took a deep breath. He had many such unpleasant reminders of the deep abiding love that his Uncle and cousin held for him.
Harry tore off his blood drenched t-shirt and tossed it in the rubbish bin. He washed the dried blood from his chest where it had soaked thru his t-shirt. He withdrew his trunk from his pocket and with a wave of his hand, he returned the trunk to its normal size. He pulled another oversized, thread bare, Dudley cast off tee from his trunk and was just about to drop the tent sized garment over his head, when he stopped himself.
Bugger this, he thought bitterly.
Harry looked at the wall clock and was pleased to find that he still had over three hours to make it to Platform 9 and 3/4.
I have money. I could make it to Diagon Alley and retrieve some funds from Gringotts and make my way into muggle London. He smiled smugly to himself.
It's time Harry Potter left his hated old life behind, starting with the horrid rag's that had once served as Dudley's austere wardrobe.
Two hours later the students boarding the Hogwart's express were treated to a surprise. A smartly dressed, raven haired dream,walked down the platform toward the scarlet coaches. At first glance the drooling female population had sworn they'd never laid gaping eyes on the mysterious young man before.
Harry Potter fought down his rising nervousness, took a deep, calming breath and passed thru the barrier to Platform 9 and 3/4. He wore a night black dragon hide waist jacket with matching boots. He hadn't intended to purchase anything so extravagant, but after seeing the items in question while passing a storefront on his way through Diagon Alley, he just couldn't resist. He'd ended up spending nearly every galleon he'd originally withdrawn from his account, just on these two purchases alone, and had had to go back to Gringott's to withdraw more funds before he continued his shopping excursion. Now masked in a full body glamour charm that gavethe illusion of a healthy appearing, even athletic looking Harry Potter, sands the telltale and rather ugly scar on his forehead. Most noticeably, or less so , was the absence of his old fashioned, black framed ,round spectacles, in favor of some temporary contact lenses, that while not perfect, did the job until his prescription could be filled next week. His green eyes showed brilliantly now that they were no longer masked behind his cumbersome spectacles.
He wore his jacket open to reveal a dark green, formfitting silk shirt which he left out from the waist of his rather too tight, black jeans. The heels of his boots made a resonating crack as the struck the pavers of the platform. They weren't the only sound on the nearly dead quiet train depot. If one listened closely, one could easily hear the appreciative gasps and even a few throaty growls of appreciation from the female students that had yet to board the train for Hogwarts.
Anyone present might have thought the, as yet unrecognized, young man was oblivious to the reaction that the female population was having to him, they would be wrong. Growing more confident and self assured with each step, Harry made his way past a rather stunned appearing group of red heads, pausing only briefly to smile warmly and wink at its youngest member, Ginny Weasley, before entering the coach.
Ginny stood transfixed, her mouth working soundlessly as she blushed to the roots of her auburn hair.
"What, or who, was that?" Ron asked incredulously, not bothering to mask the irritation in his tone as he glanced sideways at Hermione, who for her part seemed to be fighting the same reaction as his sister to the mysterious newcomer, recognition finally dawning in her eyes.
"Yummm." Ginny breathed lasciviously. "Who indeed?"
Hermione looked irate for a moment before she schooled her features and lectured her young friend.
"Oh, honestly Ginny,.. you've seen Harry before." she scolded, ignoring her own previous distraction.
"Harry?" Ron blurted in shock.
"Harry?" Ginny murmured in question before mouthing a silent "wow" of appreciation.