Once again I don't own anything or else Tom Riddle would have raised Harry.
Happy reading.
Harry woke with a gasp before rolling over and curling into a ball. Absently he reached up and wiped the wetness coating his cheeks, an action he had become familiar with over the last two weeks. There was a heavy weight filling his stomach, a combination of guilt and grief that had weighed upon him since Cedric's death.
He winced as he remembered the friendly Hufflepuff. Here he was crying over a stranger who most likely didn't even exist when he should be paying pence for his fellow student's murder.
He angrily swiped at the wetness as his feelings of grief doubled and images of Cedric's lifeless eyes popped into his head. He was no better than Dumbledore, the one in the dream anyway. He might not have planned Cedric's death but he was responsible none the less.
Not that he believed the real Dumbledore would have actually sought out the death of someone. But say he had. It would explain why Voldemort was the way he was. People weren't normally born that evil after all, something had to turn them in that direction. But then if this really was just a dream and it hadn't happened why was Voldemort as deranged as he was?
"Urgh," he moaned clutching at his head. It was all so confusing, and it hurt to think about. He rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. For once he allowed his grief to pour out of him in a normal manner. He didn't care that crying never helped anything or that a boy almost fifteen didn't go around balling like a baby. For once, just once, he wanted to be empty, to have the guilt, the grief, the confusion go away.
"Why aren't you up yet?" Petunia's shrill voice came through the door hours later. "You'd best hurry. Vernon's already in the shower."
Harry jerked awake, turning and staring in wonder at the clock. He couldn't remember falling back to sleep, had never been able to sleep after a dream had woken him. Taking stock he realized he felt better, lighter. He hadn't felt this relieved and rested in a long time. Certainly not since his name had come out of that stupid goblet.
He jumped at the second band on the door, gulping as he realized just how late it was. If he didn't get breakfast done he was sure to get a beating. Not that he cared much about that, his uncle was bound to find a reason to beat him soon anyway. But not this morning, Harry determined. He wasn't going to let the fat oaf ruin the first good mood he'd had in months.
He rolled out of bed, still in the baggy pants and stained shirt he'd worn the day before. He was sure his hair was even more of a mess than it usually was but there was no time to fix it.
His aunt frowned at his appearance but just shooed him to the stove with a cuff to the back of his head. "Porridge will do this morning," She said stiffly. "There's no sense Vernon being in a bad mood for work just because you were being lazy."
Harry threw her a confused look. Petunia rarely did anything to help him. He puzzled it out as he put the water on to boil and filled the toaster. She obviously wanted to keep Vernon in a good mood, which usually involved her spending large amounts of money.
He shrugged the thoughts away, glad that something was going his way for once. Feeling charitable he threw a rasher of bacon on the stove, hiding his smirk as he did so. The Dursley men would concentrate on the meat and toast and fill half their porridge bowl with sugar. Which meant there would be left overs. And that meant he would get to eat this morning.
He was definitely hungry that was for sure, a surprise after the earlier rolling of his stomach. No matter what else these dreams were making him feel they were certainly improving his sleeping and eating habits.
He had just gotten the pot of porridge and the towering plate of toast on the table when the large man came stomping in the room. He glared at the rather plain offering but made no comment.
Smirking to himself in victory Harry ducked into the laundry room. He might as well get started on his chores while he waited. The longer he was in Vernon's sight the more chance he had of getting smacked.
He had just finished sorting the piles and started the first load when he heard the expected shout.
"Boy, get in here and get this kitchen clean," Petunia demanded. She gave a faint look of surprise when he stepped out of the laundry room before nodding grudgingly. "Finish that off before you stick it in the water." She nodded to the pot of porridge. "When you're done you can get started on painting the shed."
"Yes Aunt Petunia." He waited until she'd left the room before frowning down at the pitiful amount left in the pot. Petunia must have made up Dudley's bowl, putting in far more than the overweight teen would have.
Snitching a piece of toast from his cousin's plate he scrapped the pan clean, the meager meal doing little to satisfy his hunger. Kitchen set to rights he headed outside and the mindless task of painting. As he worked he thought back to his dream.
He could admit that he felt admiration for the man who had stood at the window holding the wards. He didn't care if it was Voldemort he was admiring. The man's confidence and conviction had been almost addicting. Harry could easily see now why people would give up their life and freedom to follow him into his madness.
Harry wondered if he'd looked like that when he'd stood against Voldemort in the graveyard. Had he managed to look like he had known what he was doing? Not that he'd had much competition that night. He smirked as he pictured old snake face. Voldemort himself had appeared more insane that anything.
Of course the man's nature wasn't the only thing he'd noticed in the dream. The evil dark lord had had friends at one time, real friends that had stayed with him until the very end. Would any of his friends do that for him?
Hermione would he guessed. But would she stay with him because she truly cared for him or because he was one of her only friends and she was as lonely as he was? And how much of a friend was she really? He didn't tell her his deepest fears or what happened during his summers. But then she'd never asked anyway. She was more concerned with bossing him around and lording her good grades over everyone.
He immediately felt guilty. Hermione had stood by him when the whole school had turned against him. All three times at that. Sure she had faults but not many people would do that. He made a mental note to write to her that evening. She might not know much about his private life but she did know some of what had happened in the third task and was probably worrying about him.
Ron on the other hand. Harry sighed as he rounded to the back of the shed. The redhead had said a lot of hurtful things when Harry's name had come out of the goblet. Sure Ron had taken them back but not until it looked like Harry had a chance of winning the tournament. Harry had agreed to renew their friendship but the whole thing had left a bad taste in his mouth.
Was it possible that Ron was just using him? Did he go around gloating that he was best friends with the Boy-Who-Lived? He went down the trapdoor with you in first year, and followed the spiders in second year, his stubborn mind reminded him.
Harry felt like banging his head on the building as the rest of his good mood left him. He was determined to keep an open mind about his first friend but he didn't have a lot of faith that Ron would stick for anything unless there was something in it for him.
Maybe it was time for him to branch out some, cultivate some new friendships. Sure he knew a lot of people but not anyone else he could just hang out with. Who had just two friends? Why didn't he have more? Voldemort could have a whole roomful of friends that would stand by him but Harry had two people he wasn't even sure he could count on. Score one for the mad man.
That's not all he'd had, Harry reminded himself. The paintbrush slowed as he thought about the absolute love he had witnessed between husband and wife. He'd never seen two people show that much emotion toward each other. Aunt Petunia and Vernon had a good marriage he supposed but they certainly weren't all gooey over each other. And the Weasley's, well he's seen them hug a time or two and peck each other on the cheek but he wouldn't call them madly in love.
He couldn't help the feeling of hope that rushed through him. If Tom, who grown up loveless and without parents, could find a partner that could show him so much affection than maybe someday he could find something like that himself. He flushed a brilliant red as Cho's face flashed in front of his eyes and he hurriedly bent over the paint bucket before anyone could see.
"Are done yet?" His aunt called from the porch startling him. Stepping back he realized that he'd daydreamed several hours away while the shed seemed to have painted itself.
"Yes," he called stepping into view. "It'll have to set for a while before I can put the second coat on."
She nodded as she fused with her handbag. "I'm headed out and I don't want you in the house while I'm gone. Who knows what you could get into."
He barely managed to keep silent. This wan't the first time the Dursley's had locked him out of the house. His bad mood doubled as he wondered down the street, hunching his shoulders at the disapproving looks he received. The temperatures had risen through the morning so that now the sun was burning his exposed skin. Add in the dirty and now sweat drenched clothes and he didn't blame them for shying away. He wasn't sure he'd want to come near himself either.
He sighed as he entered a nearby playground, settling himself into the one swing that hadn't been destroyed by Dudley and his friends. He was hot, thirsty and so hungry he felt like sicking up on himself.
Would it really have been so hard to have let him in the house? Even being locked in his room would have been better than this. At least then he's have been out if the sun.
His thoughts turned dark as he scuffed his shoes in the dry dirt.
Dumbledore had planned to kill Voldemort's wife. Would have killed her in cold blood if she hadn't died in child birth. Of course the only reason she'd died in childbirth was because she was trapped in the house by Dumbledore's people so essentially he really had killed her.
There's no way that could be true, Harry argued with himself. Dumbledore would never do something that cold.
'Wouldn't he?' A traitorous voice in his head pointed out. 'Who leaves you here every summer without help? Who insisted you give a report before being treated for injuries after the chamber incident and again after the graveyard?'
He winced as he pushed those thoughts firmly from his mind. 'That's different.' he insisted to himself. 'Its not the same as actually plotting to kill someone and then taunting the grieving husband. That….that was just cold and heartless. That's something that Voldemort would have done.'
What had Voldemort done before that time to have deserved the loss of his wife and child? No, not Voldemort. Tom, Harry decided. If he was going to stand here and dissect the dream he could at least respect the man's wishes. And wasn't it crazy that he didn't use the name Voldemort? That it had been a lark made up by a teenager to impress his friends? It had been Dumbledore that had assigned the name. No wonder he was always telling everyone to use it.
Though Tom must have embraced it at one point, didn't he refer to himself as that in the graveyard? And what about the death eaters? He really could't see the proud and loyal men that had stood by Tom taking such a crass name , or agreeing to be branded. How had all that come about?
Tom must have snapped in his grief, turned evil and infected his followers with his rage. From what he had seen the men in that room had certainly loved and respected their leader's wife so it would have been easy to do. So everything Voldemort ended up doing was really Dumbledore's fault.
Its not hard to see how Tom had turned evil with Dumbledore turning the whole wizarding world against him like that.
But was Tom totally blameless? Harry himself had lost both of his parents, had had to grow up in isolation and an environment of hate. Courtesy of Dumbledore, he reminded himself bitterly. Would the headmaster turn on him, once Tom had been destroyed, would Dumbledore point to Harry and tell everyone that Harry was the next dark lord because he had survived the killing curse. Would the wizarding world turn against him as easily as the Hogwarts students had?
"This is ridiculous." He grumbled angrily. "I'm angry at the headmaster for refusing to even consider another housing option so my subconscious is making up all kinds of stories. Making him into the ultimate evil bad guy."
"Well I have a reason to be mad at him." He announced firmly . "I'm not going to feel guilty about that.
"About what?" A perky voice asked from behind him.
Heart in his throat Harry whirled around, his feet kicking up a cloud of dirt as he skidded out of the swing.
"Well isn't that a nice welcome," the woman sputtered, wiping off her face.
"Who are you?" Harry demanded, refusing to be embarrassed. His hand was thrust firmly in his pocket gripping his wand.
"Tonks." she answered cheekily. "And if you value your life you'll never call me anything else."
"That doesn't tell me a whole lot," he pointed out coolly.
She grinned. "Mad eye would be proud of you. Constant vigilance." She took a step back at the look that came over his face. "I'm an auror and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I'm a good guy, will girl." She sent him a winning smile.
"Why should I believe that?" He snarled. "I thought Moody was a good guy too but he was really a death eater in disguise."
"Oh." Tonks blinked before grimacing. "Probably not a good idea to bring him up then huh." She fidgeted. "How to convince you? Oh! Buckbeak!" She announced triumphantly.
"What?" Harry asked startled.
She bounced on the balls of her feet. "Sirius told me how you saved him on Buckbeak. Total props for that by the way."
"You know Sirius?" He asked dropping his guard.
Tonks smiled at his eager look. "Oh yeah, He's my cousin and a member of the order. I just saw him a couple hours ago. He's really worried about you kid."
"He's okay though? He's safe?" He rushed out. At her nod he continued. "Whats this Order?"
She winced as she led him to the one shady corner of the park. "I probably shouldn't tell you but well I guess I've already let that cat out of the bag. It's the Order of the Phoenix, a special group Dumbledore started in the first war to stop You-Know-Who."
Harry immediately flashed to his dream. Tom had been attacked by a group of Dumbledore's people. His luitentents had had orders to kill Tom's wife. "And Sirius is part of this group?" He asked slowly.
Tonks nodded, settling comfortably on the ground in a way that had Harry eyeing her. "Joined right out of Hogwarts from what I heard." She looked down at herself when he continued to stare. "What? Do I still have dirt on me?"
Harry flushed and jerked his gaze away. "Why are you here?" He asked quickly. "Did my godfather send you?" He asked as he brushed at his dirty hair, wishing for the first time that he'd had time to actually get cleaned up that morning.
She hid her smile at his actions. "Nope I"m on duty. I'm not supposed to let you know I was here but you just looked so lonely and sad. And well I was really bored and I'm not used to sitting around while others work."
He looked at her blankly. "On duty for what?"
"Guard duty," She stated, staring back at him in confusion. "Did you think Dumbledore would just send you here alone now that You-Know-Who is back?"
"I didn't…" Harry paused as fury swam through him. "I didn't know anything about it. Why didn't someone tell me? Has there been someone here, watching me the entire time?"
Tonks nodded warily as she watched him pace. "Umm we take shifts. This is my first one and I'm breaking all kinds of rules." She admitted with a shrug.
"Who else has been here?" He snarled kicking at a clump of dirt.
"Well a load of people signed up." She answered looking apologetic. "The whole Boy Who Lived thing. Diggle, Kingsley, he's my partner, umm Arthur Weasley and his oldest." She winced at the way his eyes widened before becoming hard.
"Sirius? Lupin? Are they involved?" He demanded, misery clouding his eyes.
She had to resist the urge to pull him into a hug. "Sirius wanted to, only to be able to see you I think." She added hastily. "But Dumbledore refused to let him leave headquarters."
"He's locked up?" Harry asked perplexed, his anger diverted for a moment. "Who is Dumbledore to say what Sirius can and can't do?"
"I guess he's just trying to keep him safe?" She offered half heartedly. "I think he needs to figure something else out cause Sirius is miserable. Anyway Lupin is on a special mission so he's not around to guard you. They're trying to take down Greyback."
Harry's mind flashed to his first dream and the man he thought was the werewolf. He'd had a dangerous air about him sure but he'd also seemed to really care about the bitten children. What did she mean by take him out? Was Lupin going to kill him?
"What's this headquarters?" He asked shelving his distasteful thoughts for the moment.
"It's Sirius's house, the one he grew up in. He offered to let Dumbledore use it," she explained.
Harry snorted. "Bet he's regretting that."
Tonks grinned back at him. "Definitely. Dumbledore's turned it into a safe house and moved the whole Weasley family in. I'm sure Sirius wouldn't mind helping out but Molly Weasley has taken over and running roughshod over everyone." She gasped as anger filled his face. "Don't get me wrong. I'm known the Weasleys forever and Molly's just doing what she knows best. I just don't much like the way she talks to Sirius, as if he really was a criminal."
"The Weasleys are at headquarters." Harry croaked, his hands clenched into fists. "Ron, the twins, everyone?"
She nodded warily. "Everyone except Charlie, he's still in Romania."
"And this house is safe enough to hold them, and Sirius, to have ultra secret meetings in and to plan the war against Voldemort?"
Tonks shuddered at the furious whisper. "Um yeah, the Blacks always have a ton of protections in their houses and Dumbledore put headquarters under the fidelius so it's about as safe as you can get. "
"THEN WHY AM I STUCK HERE?" The teen burst out furiously, stepping forward so that he was towering over her.
She scrambled to stand, refusing to be intimidated by him. "I don't know! Don't you think I've asked? Kingsley and I discussed it one night. How foolish it is to waste resources guarding you when you'd be safe at headquarters. Sirius demands you be brought there every time he sees the headmaster. But Dumbledore says you need to be with your family, that you need time away from the magical world to recover."
Harry whirled away from the understanding in her eyes. "You ever think that we listen to Dumbledore too much?" He asked in a choked voice. "That it's weird no one questions him? Who says he's always right?"
"I don't know Harry," she answered miserably. "He's Dumbledore. He's the good guy."
"But what if he's not?" He pressed, taking a step back at the look on her face. "I'm just talking nonsense. Hot and tired I guess." He shrugged before catching sight of the setting sun. He stiffened in fear, realizing how much time had passed. "I need to go," he hissed taking off down the street.
"Hey wait up. What's the hurry?" She asked running to keep up with him. "I'm not mad about what you said about Dumbledore."
"Its not that. My uncle's going to be home soon and if I don't have the shed finished he'll be furious." He growled, vaulting over the fence into his relative's back yard.
"We'll I've got a couple hours before we change shifts," she announced cheerful now that things seemed back to normal. "You got another brush? I'm willing to help out."
"Oh yeah that'll help." Harry snorted, peering around the back of the shed at the house with a worried look.
"Jeez Harry, you're acting like we'll get carted off to Azkaban. Its just a friend helping you out," she pointed out with a chuckle.
"Except the only friends I have are freaks that go to my freak school." He spat bitterly. "Trust me when I say he'll be really mad if he sees you."
Tonks frowned, not liking the sound of that. Her sharp eyes had already noticed the awkward way the teen held the paintbrush, protecting two of his fingers. "A neighbor then," she announced. "I can certainly pass as a friendly neighbor that stopped by to chat."
He darted her a quick look and snorted. "Not with that pink hair."
"We'll that's not a problem." She announced with a grin. Harry turned to face her as she squeezed her eyes shut. There was a small pop and Tonks opened her eyes, her hair now a shoulder length brown.
Harry's heart raced as he stared at her in shock. "How did you do that?"
"I'm a metamorphous." She hummed at his blank look. "Pretty much what the muggles would call at shape shifter. I can change anything about my body." She demonstrated by cycling her nose through several different styles.
"Stop that." He exclaimed, looking around frantically. "You can't do magic here."
She waves his concern away. "No one can see us back here, its fine."
"No its not." He argued, waving the paintbrush in his agiation and forcing her to jump back. "The ministry's already warned me once. No one can do magic around me during the summer."
"Oh we took care of that," she said happily. She laughed at his dumbfounded look. "You can't expect a slew of witches and wizards to sit out here watching your house for hours without doing a little magic. Its not possible trust me, so we made sure the ministry knew magic users were staying in the area. So basically its as if you lived in a wizarding town. As long as you don't use magic directly we're good." She peaked around the to the house before giving a quick flick of her wand that had entire shed gleaming brightly with paint.
"Wicked." Harry breathed, his grinning face moving between her and the shed.
"Now that that's done we can spend some more time getting to know each other. " Tonks announced brightly as she settled herself on the ground once more.
Harry laughed as he flopped down next to her.
