Title: Qye

Author: Shades

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: DM/HP/OC, RW/HG, SF/DT

Summary: Fifth Year has come around for Harry Potter, one summer since the tragic events of the Triwizard Tournament. He has become quiet and withdrawn, keeping his gloomy thoughts to himself. But he will not have the time to be concerned about outside worries like Voldemort, not when he has to worry about his own problems at Hogwarts. Because with Fifth Year comes a woman, a vampire woman, DADA teacher and with her she brings out odd feelings and odd people. Indeed, Harry is in for another life-turning year at Hogwarts.

Warning: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF. NO OotP! I will NEVER acknowledge that book as part of HP world! Do you hear me Rowling?!? *shakes fist* Fifth book never came out for me! There might be some similarities between the stories but I will NOT follow that thing called the fifth book!  There is slash however so if that isn't your cup of tea, please leave and don't flame me. Thanks!

Disclaimer: *glowers* No, I don't own Harry Potter  or all it's characters. *hisses*  I do, however, own all the original characters – such as Lest and Marylin – in this story. *eye twitches* And just to let everyone know, I don't own the name Lestat.  Nope, that belongs to the great writer Anne Rice and I have simply borrowed the name.  The character, Lest, however is my character.  I simply say this because I have been accused of plagiarism.  The Hammer, I am truly sorry and offended you would think I would plagiarize.  *sigh* ; - ; There, I think that takes care of all disclaimers.  Continue reading.

------- = Change of Scene

~~~~~ = Flashback

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Chapter Six

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"You know the first thing I'm going to do as soon as I graduate?" Ron muttered Monday morning as he rubbed his tired eyes.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing and there was a Potions quiz first thing this morning.

Harry looked at his friend in sympathetic amusement as he drank some of his pumpkin juice, his Potions notes next to his plate of eggs and kippers.  They had spent the entire night studying frantically for the Potions quiz that they had…forgotten…about and he could understand his best friend's sour mood.  Studying until midnight and then having to wake up early for a quiz – a Potions one at that – did not make a Weasley happy.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow as she unabashedly placed a piece of toast on Harry's plate.  Harry sighed loudly but said nothing.  All he would get from saying something was a glare and lecture, two things he did not need from Hermione before two hours with Snape.

"Kick Snape straight in the - "

"RON!"

The redhead glowered at her, viciously stabbing a piece of sausage.  "The greasy git would deserve it," he growled, taking a fierce bite out of the piece of meat on his fork.  "Honestly!" he said suddenly, throwing down his fork and glaring at it.  "Who the hell gives a quiz on a Monday morning?  An evil sadistic bastard, that's who.  I'd be doing the world a great service."

"He warned us about it on Friday," Hermione sniffed, pouring herself some more pumpkin juice.  "It's your own fault that you chose to play chess and waste your time on Saturday instead of studying."  Ron shifted his glare to her and the brunette glared back.  For a whole minute, the two silently met each other's eyes, sparks flying.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned his face away from his silent friends.  'Three…two…one…'

The shouting began.  Harry calmly turned the page in his notebook as things like "Siding with Slytherins!" and "Consequences of being lazy!" flew around him.  A little further down the table, Dean and Seamus were once again betting on who would win this argument while Neville stared at the bickering friends.

'I wonder how much longer it's going to take for them to translate each others words as being the equivalent of "I love you"…' Harry mused as his eyes quickly scanned his messy writing while munching on his piece of toast.  'Maybe that closet idea wasn't such a bad idea after all,' he thought, inwardly smiling slightly.  'Of course, they're likely to kill me for doing that to them.  It would be for their own good though.  Hmm…now where could I - '

His thoughts were interrupted suddenly as a hand was dropped on his shoulder.  Startled, he looked up from his notes to see a pale McGonagall standing behind him.  Beside him, Ron and Hermione's bickering slowly trailed off.

"The Headmaster would like to speak with you, Potter," she said in a tight voice.  Harry's brow furrowed slightly.  It almost sounded like she was…pained?  Her eyes appeared to be a bit too bright as well.  Apprehension began to bubble up in him.

"All right," he said slowly, dropping his piece of toast on his plate and packing up his notes.  Stuffing his notebook in his bag, he glanced over at his friends who were looking at him worriedly.  Pushing away his nervousness, he forced his most reassuring smile.  "I'm sure it's nothing," he said quietly as he stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder.  They didn't look convinced.  He made his smile bigger and said, "Really, he probably just wants to know how I've been doing."  No change.  "Just save me a seat in Potions," he grinned slightly, turning to follow their silent Head of House.  "Hopefully, I'll miss the quiz."  That did it.

The worry faded slightly from Hermione, replaced with a disapproving frown.  Ron just grinned, albeit a bit weakly.  He grinned back, turning his back on them and leaving the Great Hall at the same moment that a tawny owl dropped the latest Daily Prophet on Hermione's lap.  He was already halfway down the hall when his bushy-haired friend managed to make a sound about the heading on the front page of the Prophet.

-------

Harry watched nervously as his Head of House quietly closed the door to Dumbledore's office.  She hadn't said a single word from the Great Hall to the Headmaster's office and before she had left, she had placed comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed.  Then she had left quickly, her eyes still strangely bright.  To say the least, he was highly worried.

Gripping the edges of his seat, he looked at the Headmaster.  The elderly man had said nothing since Harry had entered and the anxiety in him had grown when he saw the usual twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes missing.  Minutes passed by as Dumbledore looked at him with no expression and he began to sweat, gripping his chair until his knuckles were white.

Finally, as he was about to ask why he had been brought up, Dumbledore said quietly, "There's been an attack."

Harry slumped slightly, his bitterness and fury at Voldemort and Fudge rising slightly in him.  More lives ruined and he closed his eyes slightly in sorrow for whoever's life would be changed by this.  Then he opened them again, raising his green eyes to stare at the silent Headmaster.

'He wouldn't bring me up just to tell me that,' he thought in a distant part of his mind as fear began to grow in him, growing with each moment that Dumbledore was silent.  'He wouldn't…unless…unless it had something to do with me directly…' He trembled slightly, the names of all the people he cared about running through his head.

"At the moment, it's not certain if the attack is related with Voldemort or not, or if it was even a magical attack," Dumbledore said quietly, his blue eyes looking somberly at him.  Fear and worry left him for a moment and Harry looked confusedly at the Headmaster.

'What?' he thought, puzzled, staring at the unusually cheerless Dumbledore.  'But…all attacks against me are by Voldemort.  And all my ties are to the wizarding world.  What…'

Then he stilled.

"Harry," Dumbledore said gently, the blue eyes looking at him, "Your relatives were attacked."

It was his turn to be silent.  He stared at the Headmaster for a long moment, everything in him numb.  The Dursleys…his only living blood family as far as he knew…the people who mistreated him his entire life and whom he hated…

"What happened?" he asked.  Even to his own ears, his voice sounded odd.  He dully wondered if he should be feeling anything but this strange numbness.

"They were attacked late on Saturday night from what investigators can tell," Dumbledore said quietly, still using his gentle voice.  "They were barely found last night by some neighbors who thought that the house was unusually quiet with their car still in the driveway.  The neighbors called the police.  The Ministry has agents in the Muggle force to keep an eye on your home and other things as well.  As soon as one of them heard the address, they took over the case and obliviated the Muggles that knew about it."

He was silent then continued quietly. "Your uncle and aunt were murdered and your cousin was found in the cupboard under the stairs with a few injuries.  He was found by chance by one of the Aurors.  He started screaming the moment the cupboard was opened and the Auror had to stun him to keep him quiet.  He was taken to St. Mungo's and checked.  The physical damage wasn't great but… Dumbledore hesitated for a moment.  "He's being declared insane.  They've placed him in a ward in a Muggle asylum so his aunt can visit him.

Harry had turned his face to the floor while the Headmaster spoke and the numbness had grown.  'Dead…they're dead.'  He raised a hand to his face and absently rubbed at his stinging eyes.  He must need a new prescription

"Harry…" Dumbledore said gently but he continued to look at the ground, rubbing his stinging eyes and feeling numb.

No…wait.  He wasn't completely numb.  A new feeling was rising in him, something dark and…his eyes widened slightly in horror as he recognized the feeling and then he closed them quickly, shaking his head minutely.  'No…nonononono,' he chanted in his mind, trying to push away this new surfacing feeling.  'Anything but that…I don't feel like that…' But he did.  He felt it.  He felt bitterly…

…satisfied.

Pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes hard, he took in a deep shuddering breath.  His body shook and his stomach churned unpleasantly.  He swallowed back the bile that he felt in the back of his throat. 'I don't…I didn't want them to die.'  The satisfied part in him weakened slightly.  'They didn't deserve it.'  The feeling rose quickly.  'They didn't deserve death.  They hurt me but they didn't deserve death.' The feeling subsided slightly.  'They didn't deserve to die…they were the only real family I had.  It doesn't matter if I hated them or that they hated me, they were my family.  They raised me and taught me not to be like them. It's because of them that I don't hurt when people don't like me.  I hated them…but I didn't want them to die. ' The feeling faded to the back of his mind

He shivered and dropped his hands from his face, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle.  "Who?" he asked quietly, his tightly closed.

"The Ministry is investigating the matter," Dumbledore's gently voice said quietly near him.  Harry opened his eyes and looked up, blinking.  The Headmaster had moved from his chair without him noticing and Harry looked confusedly up at the somber figure.

"Oh…well…" he said, dimly wondering why Dumbledore was so close to him.  "Do I need to do anything?"

"The Ministry would just like to know if you wish to go home and retrieve whatever you might have left there," Dumbledore said quietly, his brightless blue eyes looking down at him.  Harry faintly pondered why he looked so sad and pained.

"Yes," he said unconsciously.  Then he blinked and furrowed his brow slightly.  'Why did I say that?' he thought, slightly mystified.  'I always bring everything I own to Hogwarts…' He opened his mouth to change his answer but then he closed it again.  Something was telling him he had to go back.  He numbly wondered what and why.

He jumped slightly as he felt a hand fall on his shoulder.  Blinking, he looked at the gnarled hand on his shoulder then up at the sorrowful figure of Dumbledore.  The blue eyes looked down at him sadly and the hand squeezed his shoulder.

"It's not your fault," the elderly man said quietly.  Harry frowned, raising a hand to rub his stinging eyes.  He removed his glasses, rubbing them harder.  Everything was getting blurry…he needed new glasses.

The hand squeezed tighter.  "It's not your fault," Dumbledore repeated again softly.  "Their deaths do not appear to be connected with Voldemort.  Do not put yourself at blame.  Not for this or for the deaths of those attacked by Voldemort.  They're not your fault."

Harry frowned, looking up at the Headmaster while rubbing his blurry eyes.  What was he talking about?  He didn't blame himself…did he?  He opened his mouth and then closed it again.  His throat was tight.  Maybe he was coming down with a cold, he thought faintly, sniffling slightly.  Hermione would be a hen if he were.

"Don't blame yourself for things you have not done," Dumbledore said gently, sitting down on a chair next to Harry.  He tried to keep his eyes focused on the Headmaster but his eyes were getting so blurry.  He tried to keep his attention on the Headmaster's voice but his ears were ringing.  He was so numb…

"Harry…" Dumbledore's soft, gentle voice floated to him.  "Stop holding yourself in."

He trembled.  His only family was gone…

Without shame, he hunched over and cried as the Headmaster gently rubbed his back, murmuring soothing words of nothing.

-------

"Take as long as you want," the Auror said, standing guard outside of Number Four, Privet Drive.  Four more were stationed all around the house, dressed in the uniform of Muggle police.  They had been assigned to guard him in case the murders were just a trap.  They hadn't said anything from the trip from Hogwarts to here, instead keeping a respectful silence.  But Harry hadn't minded the silence.  "Call me if you need me," the Auror added as Harry ducked under the yellow tape that covered the door.

Harry nodded silently, stuffing his hands inside his jeans as he walked into the place where he had been raised.

He looked around quietly, walking through the house slowly.  Barely a week since they had been killed and yet all of the Dursleys' possessions were gone, leaving white spaces on the walls.  The house felt strangely large and empty without the pictures of Dudley being spoiled.  The clouded moonlight shone through the living room windows, creating monstrous shadows out of the trees and bushes out on the lawn.  Harry shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as he turned away from the living room.  This was where his aunt and uncle had been found.

It was the day after Halloween and Harry was back for the last time at the place he never called home.  Walking up the stairs, he dully recalled the past week.

By the time he had finished with his breakdown in Dumbledore's office, he had already missed all of Potions and the beginning of Care of Magical Creatures.  He had been embarrassed to have broken down like that in front of Dumbledore but the Headmaster had shook it off, saying things that Harry couldn't really understand but made him feel slightly better.  Still, he had been more than ready to leave the office but Dumbledore wouldn't let him leave until he promised to visit Madam Pomfrey for a Dreamless Sleep potion.

The school nurse already had a potion waiting for him by the time he arrived and judging from the sympathetic look that she had given him, and taking into account McGonagall's behavior, he guessed that the staff already knew about the Dursleys.  He had quickly left the Infirmary, unable to stand any more sympathy or pity.  Dumbledore had given him the rest of the day off and he had secluded himself in his dorm, not wanting to see the other students staring or whispering.

Ron had come up after classes had finished.  His redheaded friend didn't say anything when he saw Harry staring up at the ceiling nor did he ask why Dumbledore had called him.  Harry bitterly guessed that the Daily Prophet had already gotten wind about his relatives' death.

Hermione also came up and tried to make Harry talk but Ron had shaken his head at her.  Harry was grateful that Ron had figured out that he didn't want to talk about it but Hermione hadn't looked too pleased as she closed her mouth.  She didn't stop her mothering though, even though she couldn't make him talk.  His bushy-haired friend forced him to go to dinner despite his lack of appetite.

The first night after finding out about the Dursleys deaths summed up the rest of the week for him.  People stared in pity at him, whispering about the article and about his relationship with his relatives.  Those who were mistrustful of him whispered loudly about how he hated them.  Those people had quickly been dealt with by the Weasleys, particularly Fred and George.  The twins had apparently made it their job to prank anyone who messed with him and he suspected this was because of him being their benefactor for their joke shop.

Even with the Weasleys' protection though, people continued to stare and whisper about him all week.  The Halloween Feast yesterday had been a torture and the only reason he had gone was because Hermione had threatened to hex him if he didn't.

Harry walked to his uncle and aunt's room, opening the door slightly.  The room was bare, just like Dudley's.  It appeared that all the work had been done in the living room.  Sighing, he quietly closed the door and walked toward his own bedroom.  The Ministry had sent an official in the middle of the week, asking him questions about the Dursleys and their contacts.  His information didn't seem to be a lot though, judging by the frustrated look in the official's eyes.  Before she had left, she had asked which room was his so that it wouldn't be touched while the house was cleaned up.

He had paled slightly at hearing that.  Hearing that the house had to be cleaned up…Dumbledore didn't tell him the details of what had happened and the Prophet's article was vague on the attack.  All he had managed to gleam from what he heard was that his cousin had been locked in the cupboard and the neighbors had frantically called the police when they had discovered the bodies of Petunia and Vernon in the living room.  He knew that the murder had been brutal but hearing that the house had to be cleaned…he had been ill after the official had left.

He opened the door to his room and stood in the doorway, looking around the place in which he lived for only a few years.  Walking in, he looked around.  Everything looked pretty much the same except for a few ruffled papers and books dropped on the floor.  Picking one up, he absently put it back on the shelf.  The attackers had been in this room.  But why?

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair as he walked over to the loose floorboard.  Kneeling down, he lifted it up and looked down into it.  Like he had guessed, he didn't leave anything behind.  Frowning, he replaced the floorboard.  Why had he come back if he hadn't left anything?  Letting out a frustrated breath, he turned and quickly left the room without a backwards glance.

'Why did I come back?' he thought to himself, frowning as he walked down the stairs.  'I know I didn't leave anything and I hated living here.  But I still came back.  Why?'  He let out a long breath, reaching the bottom of the stairs.  From there he looked around the house.

The pictures were missing from the walls.  The rugs, the vases, the carpet – which Harry had heard had been heavily streaked with blood - were all gone.  One of the Aurors of his escort had muttered how he didn't want to go into the house again after seeing the carpet, not noticing Harry had been standing behind him.  The other Auror had nudged the muttering Auror, jerking her head to him staring.  The Auror stopped muttering and had flushed, looking away from him.  Harry hadn't said anything.

'Why did I come back?' Harry thought wearily, looking around.  'I never belonged here.  It never felt like home.  I didn't need to.  Why?'  Sighing, he turned and walked towards the front door, ready to tell his escort that he was ready to leave.  Then he stopped.

Turning around, he looked down the shadowed hallway.  Slowly, his feet walked down the corridor as if having a mind of their own.  They led him down the hallway, slowly and hesitantly.  Then they stopped.

Harry stared at the cupboard.  Without thinking, he opened it slowly.

The cupboard beneath the stairs had been cleaned.  Harry ducked in, noticing that everything was gone from the place he had been raised.  Sitting down against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and closed his eyes.

'Why did I come back here?' he thought, taking in a deep breath.  'I hated this place…didn't I?'  No…he didn't.  For some reason, it felt…right…being back here.  Being back under the cupboard.  He remembered being locked in here when he was younger, remembered it being the place he wanted to get out of.  But now that he thought about it, he didn't hate it.

The cupboard.  Before magic and Hogwarts.  Before Ron and Hermione.  Before the Weasleys and Sirius.  Before Snape and Voldemort.  Before the Ministry and the press.  Before his life became so complicated.

He opened his eyes, looking into the dark hallway.  'Life was so simple when I was here,' he thought bleakly.  'Didn't have to worry about anything except staying out of their way.  Didn't have to worry about life and death.  Didn't have so many responsibilities…'

He closed his eyes again.  'I wish things were still that way …'

He stayed like that for a few moments.  Then he shook his head, laughing mirthlessly at himself.  'What am I saying?  I hated it.'  He looked around the cupboard.  'It was simple, being in here.  But I wasn't happy.  I have Ron and Mione and Sirius and Hogwarts now.'  He shook his head, dropping his arms.  'No…I don't wish I was back here…no matter how comfortable it was.'

Shaking his head, he stood up, forgetting he had grown since last being in the cupboard.  He hissed as his head hit the top of the cupboard.  He fell back down on the floor, wincing slightly as he rubbed his head.  'Nice show of grace there, Potter,' he thought sourly, rubbing his head.   He placed a hand against the wall of the cupboard, deciding to use it to help him stand up.

The wall shifted.  He jerked his hand away and looked at the wall that his hand had rested on.  Blinking, he saw that his hand had broken into the wall.  Furrowing his brow, he moved closer.  No, he hadn't broken it.  A piece of the wall had moved, showing a little hiding spot behind it.  He moved the panel more and peered inside.

Reaching inside, he pulled out a small book with gold edging and no title.  Frowning, he looked at it before warily opening it.  There was writing inside the book, written in different colors.  Flipping through it, he saw dates and there were still blank pages in the back.  He flipped to the front and read the front page that just contained a couple of words written in calligraphy in dark purple ink.

'Qye's Journal'

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Author's Notes: I'm so evil. *smiles* Don't you all just love me? Hee. You can all imagine what happened to the Dursleys, I'm not saying a thing.  Well, I might later on but not right now.  Use your imagination!

Kay, I've noticed something.  I don't appreciate all you reviewers enough.  *hugs and kisses and cookies and glomps and chocolates to ALL WONDERFUL REVIEWERS*  You guys rock!  *_*  I'm sorry I can't name you all individually but I will at the end.  I thank you for taking time to read and review my story.  All of you are the reason I keep writing and you have no idea how happy you lot make me when I see your reviews.  Trust me, you cheer me up a lot.  *hugs all reviewers tightly*  THANK YOU!

*grins*  Okay, now that I've said my THANK YOU's, I'll answer a couple of questions that pop up.  One is how do you pronounce Qye and Opacre. ^^; Well, Qye can be pronounced K-way or K-wee and Opacre can be pronounced O-puh-kre.  Or however you like to pronounce it, I'm not picky. *blushes* I wasn't really thinking about their sounds when I thought them up.  Next question; when will Lest and Qye meet up again.  *ponders* Er…*checks notes* ^^; Still a while guys, SORRY!! Please keep reading, this story was intended to come out before Opacre but…*shrugs* Oh well.  Don't worry, I'll keep inserting Lest to make you all happy.

(Lest) *growls* You better.  Damn Malfoy is hanging around mine. *bristles*

*coughs* Er…right.  Anyway, hoped you liked the chapter (even though I didn't, like usual).  Wasn't beta-ed again. *wince* Sorry Furiku! Bad bad bad BAD weekend and I've lost your email address. ; - ; I promise I'll send next one to you though.  *sigh* Anyway, I hope ya'll liked it and keep reviewing!