Disclaimer: Characters owned by J K Rowling
Summary: Everyone has a path, but you don't have to go down it - do you? AU After the Ministry, something about Harry has changed. But for better, or for worse?
Rogue.
Potter: Dead Man's Robes.
In hindsight, Harry had to admit, of all the times and places he could've arrived, this was most probably not the best. In fact, atop the kitchen table, during a secret Order meeting, at a house whose location is supposedly a highly guarded secret – Yeah, more like the worst.
The second he arrived, the gunshot-crack of Kreacher Apparating still echoing in his ears, laughter still spilling from his mouth, several things had happened. Firstly, the ornate silver candelabras sparked to life, flames bursting forth from dusty candles, the House reveling in the return of a willing Master. Secondly, Harry had to duck, flinging himself to the slate floor, in order to avoid being blasted into atoms, as Remus and Kingsley leapt to their feet, curses shattering a large, empty goldfish bowl on top of the old mahogany dresser. Winded, Harry sat up, rubbing his bruised shoulder. He scrabbled to his feet, eyes narrow, wand out, the sharp knob of a dresser digging into his lower back as he tried to find his footing. Licking his lips, he glanced around the suddenly silent room.
They were all here – Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Mundungus… All the usual crowd. But something wasn't quite right… Harry's eyes flickered over the gathering one last time, before he let his wand drop to his side. He bowed his head, staring at the floor, as the first shocked murmurs began to hum in his ears, swelling to an almost deafening roar of confusion. Oh… Fuck. I forgot… He's not here, he can't… They aren't on my side – not anymore. What did Dumbledore tell them?! Do they… Do they think… What if they think it was… Me? I can't lose these allies! I'm not strong enough on my own!
He was snapped back to the present by a tentative hand on his shoulder. He dragged his head upright, and stared into the terrified golden eyes of Remus Lupin. He blinked, waiting for Remus to speak, but evidently his former professor was lost for words, and just stood there looking like the world had ended. Again. Ah… So Dumbledore did tell him. But he wouldn't have believed it, not Remus. He would have protested, screamed, refused to accept it. 'Not Harry!' he would have cried, 'Not my Cub! Not Harry!' And then I waltz in, all bloody, wand at the ready…
"Remus." Harry muttered, feeling his face grow hot under the scrutiny. Remus just stared at him, trembling, his face paler than Harry had ever seen. Harry swallowed and let his gaze drop to the floor. "R…Remus, I… I didn't… I wouldn't, not… Not even them, Remus. You have to believe me, I wouldn't…" His voice trailed off, Remus let out what could only be described as a whimper. Then, before he could do so much as draw a breath, Harry was clasped in a back-breaking embrace, Remus' tears soaking into the back of his t-shirt, his in-humanly strong fingers bruising Harry's already battered back. He hissed slightly in pain, but hugged Remus back, feeling a slight flutter of courage surge through him. Here is at least one person I can count on. He believes me, trusts in me. He will be on my side in this… After all, who else would he be fighting for? Who else is there left for him to be fighting for?!
It seemed like an eternity, but eventually Remus pulled back, his eyes golden, his whole frame shaking. He cleared his throat, and tried to smile reassuringly, but when he spoke… It wasn't the soft, warm voice of the chocolate-loving bookworm that Harry thought of as his only family left. It was deep, and wild, the sound of a forest in the dead of night. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up as he identified the voice of the wolf. "Harry, we need-need to get you cle-eaned off, ah-"
"Easy, Moony." He whispered, knowing the wolf's sensitive ears would pick up the murmur, even over the cries of outrage and horror that were beginning to surface from the assembled members of the Order. Remus nodded and smiled tightly, moving over to the kitchen door. Harry followed gratefully – or rather, he tried to. He had got no further than a couple of steps towards the door, when Molly Weasley stood, her face almost purple with rage. "Remus Lupin! What in the name of Merlin do you think you are doing! You heard Dumbledore, you heard what he said! I know that this boy is your best friend's son, but he, he… He's a MURDERER!" Harry froze, his eyes widening in shock. Well well. Molly Weasley. I guess I was wrong about you. So very wrong.
The room exploded in uproar at her declaration, clamoring for revenge, baying for his blood. Harry flinched, and ducked, as a white-hot curse grazed past him, shattering the ornate kitchen mirror. Remus was in front of him instantly, crouched in a standard defensive position, a deafening roar torn from his lips. It died to a growl, and the room fell silent, stunned at the sight of the usually composed teacher, epitome of all things meek and mild. His lips were drawn up, teeth bared, a smudge of blood from Harry's shoulder across one cheek, his eyes wide and unblinking. Harry frowned, his stomach clenching uncomfortably as the few braver (or stupider) people in the crowd began to murmur, accusations sending prickles of rage across his skin. "Werewolf…"
"Dark Creature…"
"The Dark stick to their own…"
"It was true…"
"They're monsters, the both of them…"
"Murderous, beasts, monsters…"
So… He's the only one. He would turn against everything he's ever fought for, for me? And they would turn on him, just because of what he is… They're just as bad as Voldemort. Just as narrow-minded and prejudiced as any Death Eaters. They're just more… Civilized about it… Harry chuckled softly, confident in Remus' guardianship, and twirled his wand lazily in his hand, stuffing the other deep into the pocket of his over-sized jeans. "I would suggest that nobody moved… But I think you've all grasped that concept rather well…" His head snapped up, his eyes cold and unforgiving. "Now. I think it's time we reviewed the basics. Like manners, for example. It's really rather rude, you know. You come into my home, eat my food, sit at my table, drink my wine and curse at my servants. And then you dare to badmouth me when my back is turned? That's really quite disgraceful." He smirked slightly, a sudden feeling of malicious joy twisting inside of him at the sight of a shamefaced Mrs. Weasley unable to hold his gaze. "I don't need to prove myself to you. I don't need to defend myself against these lies. If I don't have even your trust… Then why should you have anything – ANYTHING from me?!"
A slight tremor in the air alerted him to his Headmaster's presence, and he continued to speak, his indignant rage evident on his face. "You expect me to fight for you, to sacrifice myself for you – to DIE FOR YOU!! And YOU CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE IN ME! YOU CAN'T EVEN LOOK ME IN THE EYE! Well, that's it. You've had your chance, you've had it. You have had all you are EVER going to get from me! Now leave me alone, just leave me the FUCK ALONE!" He wheeled round to face the Headmaster, eyes blazing. "That includes you, you MEDDLESOME OLD FOOL. I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT ME, I KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF ME. WELL HERE'S WHAT I THINK OF YOU! YOU CAN TAKE YOUR PROPHECY, YOU CAN TAKE YOUR ORDER, YOU CAN TAKE YOUR FUCKING LEMON DROPS AND SHOVE THEM UP YOUR-"
"Potter! That's enough!" The sharp voice of Professor Snape snapped him out of his rapid spiral into hysteria, and he swallowed, falling silent.
Ah… I forgot about him… So maybe Remus isn't the only one… Maybe there is hope left for us after all.
Harry nodded, rubbing the back of his head wearily. "I… Sorry. Sorry, I just… Please go. Please, everyone, go…" Dumbledore frowned and made as though to argue. Harry sighed, and snapped his fingers. The crack of House-Elf apparation was almost instantaneous, and there was Kreacher, all bows and toothless smiles, eager to please. "Look. S…Si…Sirius… He left me the house. The house, and the money. All of it… And like I said, I'm done with you. So, there will be no more donations. No more headquarters, none of it. I'll give you five minutes to gather your belongings and get out." His gaze once more dropping to the floor, Harry turned on his heel and walked to the door, pausing only once, to look back at Mundungus Fletcher, who let out a very unmanly squeak of fear. "Oh, and 'Dung? If you even so much as think of trying to steal any more of my possessions… Well, lets just say there'll be one more head up by the staircase – and it surely won't be Kreacher's, no matter how much he begs. Mkay?"
Two hours later, and Harry was immersed up to his chin in hot, soapy water, his head resting on the cool marble of the enormous bathtub. He let out a sigh, and rubbed his tired eyes, playing out the days events in his head, trying to grasp how his life could have turned so far upside down. Really, could I have been any stupider?! They were the only people I had… And now they hate me too! What… What is WRONG with me? Maybe I'm just tired, maybe I'm just… Oh… I don't know. It's just so unfair! Why don't they trust me?! I was going to offer up my life, my LIFE, to save them and their families. Ungrateful bastards. Can't even believe in the saviour they chose. So faithless, so faithless!
Well.
I'll show them, I'll show them all!
If a Fallen Saviour is what they want…
A Fallen Saviour is what they're going to get…
Authors Note: Firstly, I am so so so so so so sorry it took me so long to update this! There's not really an excuse, but I'll try to update more regularly from now on.
Okay, so considering all the constructive criticism I've received, last chapter was just not quite good enough… Which I agree with. I think I wrote this chapter more naturally – I knew where it was going, and I really do hope its better!
Anyway, please, please, please review, and tell me if you liked it!!
Thanks again to all of my reviewers - it really makes this writing thing worthwhile…
Next Chapter: Dead Man's Robes (This one should be good – From the point of view of one Mr. Draco Malfoy. What's his reaction to Harry's dramatic return?)